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    • Collawash River, Austin Narrows (2010)

      Among the cryptic names given to Oregon wildfires this summer is the Austin Fire, still burning in the upper Clackamas River basin. It’s unclear whether the Forest Service named this fire for Austin Hot Spring – a somewhat notorious private inholding along the Clackamas River – or nearby Austin Point, located a couple miles to the west along the Collawash River. My guess would be the latter, as it’s an important landmark along a major power transmission corridor that is no doubt a chief fire concern for the agency.

      Though little known, Austin Point rises dramatically nearly a thousand feet above the Collawash, pressing the river into a steep canyon that is among the most scenic spots in all of WyEast Country. The narrows continued to be a very active geologic work in progress, as they result from a massive, 4-mile wide active landslide extending to the river from a mile-high ridge known as Granite Peaks, just to the east. This autumn scene was captured where (appropriately) Slide Creek joins the Collawash River in the heart of the canyon section.

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      Image Description: Deep green forests with hints of lingering autumn gold and yellow frame a rambling section of the Collawash River where it flows between steep cliffs and boulders. A rugged mountainside in the distance fades into drifts of fog in this early winter scene.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Mount Hood from Lookout Mountain (2025)

      The Grasshopper Fire continues to spread along its eastern front, but the western part of the burn that encompasses Lookout Mountain and High Prairie has quieted since the fire began three weeks ago. This image from last November captures early snow on the mountain and a lenticular cloud that announces an incoming Pacific front (that can be seen on the horizon). 

      In the foreground, an isolated Whitebark pine colony survives at the very crest of the mountain, where the elevation reaches above 6,000 feet, the highest point in the Badger Creek Wilderness. Other than Mount Hood, itself, Lookout Mountain is the only peak in the area high enough to support this keystone alpine species. 

      The Lookout Mountain Whitebark grove is a mix of ancient, bleached skeletons, mature living trees and scattered young seedlings. Their physical isolation high above the rest of the dense, surrounding hemlock and fir forests (seen in the distance, below) is their best defense against wildfire, though we won’t know the fate of these trees until the area is reopened to the public, sometime after the fire.

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      Image Description: Mount Hood is freshly covered in an early dusting of autumn snow, and capped with a lenticular cloud, a series of stacked saucer-shaped clouds that often mark the approach of an incoming storm front. In the foreground, the gnarled, bleached skeleton of an ancient Whitebark pine frames the view, with younger, living pines flanking the old giant. These trees grow on the steep, rocky slopes of Lookout Mountain, the highest point in the Badger Creek Wilderness.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Mirror Lake by Benjamin Gifford (1920s)

      With the Grasshopper Fire shifting west and toward Mount Hood earlier this week, this historic image of Mirror Lake sometime in the 1920s came to mind. It’s a Benjamin Gifford photo, among the thousands that he and his son Ralph published over their combined careers as Oregon photographers (this is a colorized version of the original).

      Notable in the image is the recently burned landscape around Mirror Lake and on much of Mount Hood’s south and west slopes in the early 1900s. The Kinzel and Sherar burns had already consumed most of the forests south and west of the mountain when the Mount Hood Loop Highway was completed in the early 1920s. The burned landscape provided lots of mountain views framed with blooming rhododendron and beargrass at popular along Laurel Hill and at Buzzard Point that have since disappeared under dense forests.

      The Grasshopper Fire is expected to continue turning away from the mountain over the next few days, but this old image is a good reminder that the south side of Mount Hood will eventually burn, once again. Though tough to watch, it’s part of a natural cycle that was interrupted over the past century by human fire suppression, and is now returning in earnest.

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      Image Description: This historic, newly-colorized photo was taken in the 1920s by renowned photographer Benjamin Gifford. The image features Mirror Lake with snow-covered Mount Hood rising in the distance. Two fishermen are working in the foreground, with smoke rising from their campfire. Their fishing gear sits nearby. Skeletons of trees burned in the Kinzel fire of the early 1900s frame the lake, a reminder of the long history of fire in this area.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Inspiration Point (2024)

      It’s not often that “Road Work Ahead” signs are a welcome sight, but such is the case with the historic Cloud Cap Road, where the Forest Service is completing the first significant maintenance in 17 years. It remains a rough, primitive road in character with the surrounding historic district that includes the iconic 1889 Cloud Cap Inn as its crown jewel. But for the moment, at least, the road is once again passable to passenger vehicles without risk of broken axles. 

      Though almost always closed to the public, the Cloud Cap Inn remains the main attraction, though it requires a 9-mile journey up the old road. If you’re looking for a shorter dirt road adventure, the view from Inspiration Point at the 3-mile mark makes for a satisfying turnaround spot. The viewpoint has long been part of the motoring tradition on the mountain, and though there is an oversupply of “Inspiration Points” out there, this is the original for Mount Hood.

      To visit, follow Cloud Cap Road for about 3 miles past the seasonal gate at the end of the paved section. Watch for an old, steel guardrail (it even appears in the 1930s-era postcard, below!) and park here. The trees have grown and now mostly block the view from the road, but a short, steep path begins at the north end of the guardrail, by a wood sign with simply a “1” on it. Impressive views into the deep Eliot Branch canyon, mighty Stranahan Falls and the mountain towering above quickly unfold as you descend this short user path.

      The view from Inspiration Point today…

      …and a 1930s postcard view

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      Image Description: The first image is a modern-day view of Mount Hood from the rocky, tree-framed outcrop of Inspiration Point. The Eliot Branch of the Hood River flows far below, at the bottom of a deep canyon. Tall Stranahan Falls can be seen cascading into the head of the canyon. Mount Hood towers above, against a blue sky with wispy, white clouds. The Eliot Glacier tumbles down the northwest slope of the mountain, forming the icy headwaters of the Eliot Branch. The second image is a historic 1930s black-and-white postcard view of the scene as viewed from Cloud Cap Road, just above Inspiration Point.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Mount Hood Lily (2004)

      As much as I try to acknowledge all comments on the WyEast Blog, I sometimes stumble across comments posted years after the original article that slip through the cracks. In the case of Gary Fields’ comment (in 2013 and shown below) on this article on the Mount Hood Lily (posted four years prior, in 2009) I didn’t notice the comment until this morning — 13 years late! So, in the interest of connecting the dots across the asynchronous digital continuum, I’ll thank Gary here for this comment:

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      September 5, 2013 at 7:13 AM

      The Mount Hood Lily does indeed grow in the state of Washington. They can be found near the upper portion of Snowden Road.

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      Gary’s comment responds to the original blog article describing confusion over the more commonly used name for the Mount Hood Lily – the Washington Lily – being named for Martha Washington, as opposed to the State of Washington. 

      Though the USDA and other botanical sources still describe Mount Hood as the northernmost extent of this exceptionally beautiful lily, I don’t doubt Gary’s account at all. In fact, the Oregon Flora Project includes several entries in the hills above Mosier, well north of Mount Hood and just across the river from Snowden Road in Washington. I’ve also seen Mount Hood Lily throughout the Hood River Valley foothills and along Waucoma Ridge, in the high country of the Columbia River Gorge. So, there’s a good chance they’ve jumped the river in a few spots. 

      These spectacular wildflowers are blooming right now, in fact. If only this vintage 2004 image (taken with my first digital SLR twenty-two years ago!) of a Mount Hood Lily had scratch-n-sniff metadata, you could also appreciate their intoxicating fragrance that rivals any greenhouse-cultivated Stargazer lily. They are impressive plants that that are hard to miss, and commonly grow along forest roads if you find yourself up on the mountain this week. Just don’t call them “Washington Lily”…

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      Image Description: A trio of white, trumpet-shaped Mount Hood Lily blossoms bloom in a cluster, each with six curved, white petals surrounding a cluster of bright yellow stamens and a single green pistil at center. Not shown in this photo is the aromatic, powerfully sweet scent that these stately wildflowers are known for.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Upper Butte Creek Falls (2017)

      Butte Creek is a bit of a hidden gem in WyEast Country, located on land managed by the Oregon Department of Forestry (ODF) and accessed via a maze of logging roads. Amid miles of clearcuts on both public and private lands in all directions, the ODF has set aside the steep canyon surrounding Butte Creek Falls and its smaller, upstream sibling – known unofficially as Upper Butte Creek Falls – for recreation. A short, but excellent trail leads to both waterfalls and makes for a fine family outing (albeit with some serious drop-offs at the main falls overlook). 

      It’s not coincidental that these waterfalls are near similar concentrations just to the south, along Abiqua Creek and famously, Silver Creek State Park. All three streams cascade in stairsteps over layers of Columbia River Basalt that flooded the region 16 million years ago, long before the Cascade Range we know today existed.

      In 2020, this section of the Butte Creek watershed somehow dodged the Riverside Fire that swept across a wide swath of the Clackamas and Molalla River basins. As a result, it remains as a lush, green reminder of the importance of slowing the pace of human-caused wildfires. 

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      Image Description: Butte Creek flows over a wide basalt shelf in white curtain, dropping into a deep splash pool. The waterfall is surrounded by tall maples, alders, cedars and firs in dozens of shades of green. In the foreground, bright green leaves of Salmonberry complete the scene.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Gumjuwac Overlook (2023)

      Sometimes a photo brings back a vivid personal memory completely disconnected from what you might see in an image. Such as the case with this early winter view from rocky viewpoint along the Gumjuwac Trail, on the west shoulder of Lookout Mountain and within the protected Badger Creek Wilderness.

      Much of the climb to this viewpoint is through deep, old-growth forests of Douglas fir, Western hemlock and scattered Western red cedar. About a mile from the trailhead in late November 2023, I came upon fresh bear tracks along the trail, the only tracks other than mine on the fresh snow.  They continued for some distance until I reached what had recently been a violent encounter at a wide switchback on the trail. There was no telling exactly what had unfolded, though two large animals had clearly faced off, leaving chaotic marks in the new snow. 

      The bear tracks ended here, but a clear path of broken brush and torn up snow led directly down the steep mountain slope from the trail in the wake of whatever chase had ensued. It was an awesome reminder that in wilderness, simple survival is the overriding constant for every living thing — except us.

      The wild encounter happened just below the viewpoint where this photo was taken. As I set up a tripod to take this image, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had unfolded on the trail just a few hours just before I came, and the rare privilege of stumbling upon it.

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      Image Description: the bright, white cone of Mount Hood stands high on the horizon, rising above lower, snow-covered peaks and ridges. The mountain is framed by snowy fir trees and two bleached snag leans in from the left to remind us of the harsh mountain conditions here. A pair of large boulders in the foreground complete the scene, freshly buried in a deep blanket of new snow.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • It’s the Muppets (of the Mountains) Show! (2003-18)

      The alpine snowfields are melting fast, and at this time of year Western pasqueflower (Pulsatilla occidentalis) springs into action. These wildflowers emerge and bloom so quickly after the snow clears that most will never see their blossoms – though almost anyone who spends time in the mountains will instantly recognize these plants by their seedhead! The mane of “hair” that covers their seed pods is famously groovy, and has inspired many colorful common names over the years. Among them:

      • Old man of the mountain

      • Hippie on a stick

      • Moptops

      • Tow-headed babies

      • Muppets of the mountains

      • Cousin Itt flower 

      (…my obscure offering of “Vilanch flower” really hasn’t stuck, unsurprisingly… you’ll have to Google it).  

      If you visit the alpine zone early enough, you might spot Western pasqueflower in its blooming phase, the unique flowers (below) revealing these as members of the Anemone family. They are so spirited is their spring emergence that the blooms come well ahead of their foliage, putting these flowers on a fast track to producing seeds, even as the summer season is just beginning.

      The bloom phase of Western pasqueflower does not last long, and soon their transformation into mountain hippies begins with a first stop in the New Wave 1980s, with spiky punk hair (below) that would make Billy Idol proud. 

      While their spiked 1980s punk styling continues to expand to Tina Turner proportions, these plants are also producing delicate, fern-like foliage that will persist through the summer. The spiked hair look didn’t last long in the 80s, nor does this phase for Western pasqueflower. Soon, their tightly spiked “hair” grows long and wavy, taking them back another decade to their ultimate early 1970s hippie motif. 

      It is this final phase tribute to the mid-70s Led Zepplin-Peter Frampton look (below) that persists for most of the summer, and is how most know the Western pasqueflower (…and to completely belabor the metaphor, their luxuriant hair eventually falls out in late summer, leaving them with only a few sad strands as they resign themselves to the county fair oldies circuit…)

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      Image Description: Three photos show the stages of blooming and seed head development of Western pasqueflower, an alpine member of the Anemone family. The first image shows a group of short, stout flowers emerging from bare ground, with white petals and bright yellow centers. The second image shows the initial stage of seed head development, with round globes covered in stiff green hairs. Delicate, fern-like foliage also appears at this stage for the Pasqueflower. The final stage shows three seedheads covered in long, wavy hairs that gives these plants their personality and many creative common names.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • White River Canyon Overlook (2017)

      The headwaters of the White River begin in a vast maze of sandy canyons that fan out below the White River Glacier, located on Mount Hood’s south side. The geologic story here is surprisingly new. Few hikers making their way up the west rim of this maze on the Timberline Trail realize that much of what they see around them – including the ground they are walking on — is barely two hundred years old. 

      At about the time Lt. William Broughton of the Royal British Navy was sailing up the Columbia River in 1792, and giving Mount Hood its modern name, the mountain was just completing a remake of the entire south side in an eruptive episode that lasted for a decade, beginning in 1781. These eruptions produced an enormous amount of volcanic ash and debris that piled up to form the smooth slopes that Timberline Lodge is built upon, and that make up the gentle slopes of Paradise Park. 

      Eight-hundred-foot Crater Rock formed from lava at the center of the vents that produced these eruptions. The monolith stands today as an impressive reminder of the power that has once again gone dormant beneath the mountain. Yet, when the Zigzag and White River glaciers reformed on the upper slopes in the years after this eruptive period, they began to make quick work of the soft new ash deposits, with their glacial outflow carving the deep canyons we see today. 

      How much material has been removed by the White River in the 230 years since? This second image gives a visual sense. Within the White River Canyon, Mesa Terrace stands as a fragile slice of the valley as it existed after the eruptions, and loses ground each year to the two forks of the White River that straddle it. The eroded areas are shaded in tan.

      Below Mesa Terrace, itself, is the pre-eruption valley floor, revealed along the eroded flanks of the terrace where the White River has exposed downed forests flattened by the eruptions. Buried for more than two centuries by hundreds of feet of ash and debris, they have been well-preserved, giving scientists insights into the mountain as it existed before.

      Travelers along the Mount Hood Loop can appreciate where all of this eroded material has gone when they cross the sprawling, mile-wide White River floodway, downstream, where the river continues to reshape the landscape to this day.

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      Image Description: The first image shows a maze of grey, sandy canyons below the snow-covered summit of Mount Hood, with the cascading White River Glacier at the head of the canyon. Blue Lupine bloom in the foreground, on the brink of the vast canyon. The second image shows the same scene, but with graphics to illustrate how the mountain once looked before these canyons had been carved into recent volcanic flows from eruptions that occurred just 230 years ago. An 800-foot lava formation called Crater Rock was created as part of these eruptions, and is circled near the top of the mountain, 

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)

    • Gnarl Ridge Ancient (2003)

      I visited this spot again last summer, twenty-two years after I took this photo. It was among my first with a digital SLR – back when that was still a novelty! This old Whitebark pine still survives here, in one of the harshest environments Mount Hood has to offer. 

      Gnarl Ridge is located high on the mountain’s southeast shoulder, where the ancient grove of Whitebarks gives the ridge its name. The trees here suffer the dual-punishment of howling winds and bitter cold from winter storms, followed by hot, dry summers, thanks to their southern exposure and the rain shadow effect on the east slopes of the mountain. 

      Whitebark pine have faced die-offs in recent decades, threatening this keystone species across the west. There’s more about the challenges these trees face in this 2013 blog article.

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      Image Description: An ancient Whitebark pine grows in the gray, volcanic sand and cinders on Mount Hood’s Gnarl Ridge. Its massive, contorted trunk lies low to the ground, bent by the extreme winters and bleached by hot summers on this high, exposed ridge. Old survivors like these give the ridge its name. Overhead, saucer-shaped lenticular clouds are forming over the Cascade crest, marking the approach of another Pacific storm from the west. On the far horizon, the rain shadow effect of the Cascade mountains can be seen in the golds, yellows and tans of desert country.

      Photo © WyEast Images (2026)