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Eastern Oregon: Part 3

March 20, 2018August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Day 5: Kimberly to Maupin

From Kimberly, we headed south following the John Day River. It was early in the morning and cold and cloudy. Light precipitation saturated the rainbow-colored hills: red, yellow, blue. As if in an effort to stifle the color, snow dusted the tops of the hills. We pulled into the small, deserted Blue Basin parking area in the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument and got out to take a look around. My husband carried Evie and I skipped ahead to snap photos. I crossed a little bridge and my jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A tiny ribbon of water meandered below. The water was the most brilliant milky turquoise blue.

I was blown away years ago when I visited the nearby Painted Hills and I was most excited to see more of the John Day Fossil Bed area on this trip. I didn’t think it could get much better than those striped hills, but Blue Basin after the rain exceeded all of my expectations. As we walked farther, you could see where the earth had eroded down into the namesake’s blue bowl. The jagged edges seemed to calve with the messiness and brilliant blue of glaciers. It was so quiet, no sign of life in any direction. We just stood and stared and wondered how we got to this alternate universe.

As we drove a little farther, we found a sign of civilization. The enormous white house and barn spread out on lush green grass seemed out of place against the arid backdrop of sagebrush and pine. We found that we had stumbled upon the Cant Ranch, established in the early 1900’s by James and Elizabeth Cant. They had come from Scotland and acquired the land through the Homestead Act. They raised cattle and sheep to supply the nearby mining villages and grew crops to sustain them and the animals thanks to the John Day River that ran wide and lazy through the property. After the Cants died in the 1970’s, the building became the National Park Headquarters and an interpretive center. It was closed while we were there, but a sign invited us to walk along a short trail to see the grounds and the towering Sheep Rock across the river.

We lingered for a bit and then headed across the road to the Paleontology Center. The center was full of fossils found in the area and renditions of the kind of life that lived in this bizarre locale millions of years ago. My favorites were perfectly preserved ferns and leaves. It was comforting to recognize them, to know they have flourished so long in this world. In the lobby, we watched video monitors of scientists studying fossils in real time. I picked up a National Parks passport for Evie and a bright futuristic postcard beckoning visitors back in August 2017 to watch the total solar eclipse. I thought what an ideally strange place to watch an equally strange phenomena.

Next, we headed to the old mining town of Mitchell to see if we could find something to eat. We found a promising cafe on the way to town but as we pulled into the parking lot, we noticed something seemed a little off. A woman with gray hair and an apron fussed with the cash register as I asked her if they were open. She said, sure, honey, we’re open. We just don’t have any electricity at the moment. I asked her how long they’ve been without power and she said all morning. I broke the news to my husband and we continued driving through town to see if there were any other options. In less than two minutes, we were through town and it appeared that the entire place was without power. People were standing outside just looking around like the sky may have answers. This place is weird, I told my husband. He gave me an mmm hmmm in agreement. We snacked on what we had in the car and moved on.

Our next stop was my beloved Painted Hills. I couldn’t wait to show my husband and Evie this place and enjoy it without the stifling heat that accompanied Nali and I on our first visit. We drove the long dirt road through ranch land as I kept repeating, just wait, it gets better! over and over. We parked among the dusty vans with plates from all over the country and I smiled with glee. I love it here so much! became my new mantra. My even-keeled husband seemed to enjoy it despite the impossibility of the place living up to all my accolades. He was used to my drama by now. Evie’s sharp little eyes surveyed with laser focus, but she too seemed to be becoming immune to my enthusiasm as she didn’t mutter a peep. It was ok, I was in my happy place.

We headed to the Painted Cove trail with its mounds of sculpted red clay. Here, the water ran orange as it braided itself to lower ground. The cloud ceiling was beginning to break and the deep blue sky emerged along with some sunshine. I lingered, I absorbed, I soaked it all up, not wanting the short trail, the trip, the sunshine to end.

We drove on. We took a back road through a gorgeous canyon that we couldn’t believe wasn’t a famous National Park or something. Tiny homesteads crumbled next to modern cabins and houses and we wondered if the originals had been there since the Homestead Act and the land passed down through generations. Occasionally a ghost town would appear out of nowhere and I’d check the map. Antelope, Shaniko, Bakeoven. We stopped to get some beef jerky and popcorn and I picked a homemade magnet that says, I’ve been to Fossil, Oregon with a picture of a triceratops.

We drove all the way to Maupin, a small town (which seemed like a sprawling city to us at this point) at the bottom of a steep canyon and snuggled into a bend of the Deschutes River. We found a city park jam packed with RV’s but it had a strip of grass they let us tent campers have for the night. We found a decent restaurant that catered to the tourists coming to raft the river and had a table outside that we could sit at with Nali and a messy baby. As the day turned to evening, we watched a rafting crew get ready for a trip down the river.

Day 6: Maupin to Seattle

We had been on the road for 5 days and it seemed like a lifetime, and I mean that in the best way. We had developed a routine and it seemed Evie was loving, or at least tolerating, all the travel. But alas, it was time to return to Seattle. It was a beautiful bluebird day, the warmth and sun finally arrived just as we were leaving. We decided to take advantage of it and drove up to Mount Hood. We showed Evie the Timberline Lodge and I scribbled one last postcard and dropped it in the mailbox in the lobby. I gave Evie a kiss and told her we would return when she was older.

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Road Trip

Eastern Oregon: Part 2

February 28, 2018February 26, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Day 3: Joseph to Hells Canyon

Our next destination was Hells Canyon along the Snake River on the Oregon – Idaho border. We were hoping to drive through the Wallowa Mountains to get there, but the rangers in Joseph told us that the snow was lingering longer than usual on the high altitude roads, so we would have to drive around. So we headed back the way we came and then went south to La Grande and took the back roads to Halfway. This tiny western town was named so because it is located halfway between Cornucopia and Pine, in other words, halfway between nowhere and nowhere. We found some information about Cornucopia, a ghost town in the foothills of the Wallowas, and decided to go check it out.

The road to Cornucopia was unpaved, but in good shape. The name of the town eludes to the amount of gold found there. It was said that the area held the largest gold ore body in the Pacific Northwest, even possibly the United States. There was a bit more going on there than we expected. There were several small cabins and some old run-down larger structures, but the cabins seemed like they still got some use. We drove as far as we could until the road was covered in a winter’s worth of snow. The heavy mining activity was evidenced by heaping mounds of tailings along the shoulders of the creek. This was something we would see much more of on our trip in the coming days.

From there, we backtracked to Halfway and then headed northeast along the Snake River to Idaho. The highway hugged beautiful canyons as we approached the river. And then, in a tiny town called Oxbow, we unceremoniously crossed the Snake into Idaho. We knew this area to be one of the most remote places in the US. Only three roads even got close to the canyon and no other roads crossed the river. We saw only a handful of people on the 22 mile road to Hells Canyon Dam. We found a campground that appeared to just be some dirt tracks with a few flat areas for camping. They did have some nice toilets which I fully appreciated. There wasn’t any accessible water, though, so Evie and I set up camp while my husband drove back to get some water.

While he was gone I heard a truck come from another direction and stop below us. They turned up their music, it was Pink Floyd. I have to say it was a bit of a trip to be there with just Evie while hearing, hello, hello, hello? Is there anybody in there? With no other evidence of life around us whatsoever. It was like we were in a movie with a soundtrack. My husband returned and we made some dinner and read pamphlets about the Snake River dams to Evie before bedtime. While she slept, we took our sleeping bags out and watched the sun set. The stars started to appear and I waited to see a spectacular show, but a haze moved in. I settled for a handful of shooting stars.

Day 4: Hells Canyon to Kimberly

The next morning we woke up to what sounded like turkeys. It was sprinkling rain. We had some oatmeal breakfast and then headed farther into the canyon toward the dam. We saw some turkeys on the road just after we left the campground which solved that mystery. The canyon was much more green than I expected, probably only because it was May. The walls of the canyon were tinted sage green, the color of lichen. They plunged into the depths of the river and we couldn’t fathom how you could get down into the canyon from the top. It seems impossible.

We reached the Hells Canyon Dam and drove across it, stopping to look over the edge as the water rushed to freedom. From here, the river regained some of its wildness and remoteness. We were now back in Oregon as we drove to the end of the road which terminates at a visitor center. It was closed and seemingly abandoned as there were no other cars or people. We walked down a little bit into the canyon, beads of mist gathered on our hair.

The chilly rain persuaded us to move along and hit the road again. We enjoyed one last drive back down through the canyon before we headed toward Baker City. Once there we stopped for a break and had lunch at the Lone Pine Café, where I had another incredible meal that has to be one of my favorites of all time. While we devoured our food we scoured the map to determine our route for the day. We planned a short side trip to the old mining town of Sumpter complete with saloon and abandoned dredge.

As we headed into the mountains from Sumpter, we encountered a snow storm again. We drove up over a pass through a forest of trees and then all of the sudden the road just flattened into straight nothingness. No trees or hills, just a few chilly cows. We were on some kind of plateau in the middle of nowhere. Eventually we reached the tiny town of Long Creek where we stopped for some gas and food. We walked into the one store in town and got some looks. I have a feeling this town does not have a booming tourist business.

Eventually things started looking normal again and the snow let up only to be replaced with pouring rain. The wind was howling too as we winded along the John Day river. We found a tiny campground on BLM land outside of Kimberly and set up camp in the rain and wind. My husband set up the tent and then Evie and I took shelter and set up the inside. Our new tent was standing up well to the wind so far. Once we got everything set up and ate a cold supper, the rain stopped and the sky cleared to reveal the top of the mountain directly across the river from us.

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Road Trip

Eastern Oregon: Part 1

February 22, 2018February 23, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Day 1: Seattle to Not Quite Oregon

After driving all over Yakima looking for gas and a decent restaurant, we were finally sitting and eating at a crowded Bob’s Burgers. It was about two in the afternoon and we were not very far from Seattle. We were hoping to make it to Pendleton and find a campground, but as we looked at the map we decided we wouldn’t make it there for the night. Instead we frantically searched the web for campgrounds nearby, calling and getting news that they were full.

When my husband had the idea to go for a family road trip to eastern Oregon I thought it sounded great, but I didn’t want to do any planning. Evie was only 5 months old and neither of us really had the energy. So we decided to wing it. We came up with a general route and decided we would find campsites as we needed them. I’m not really a wing-it kind of gal and I have to admit I was a little worried sitting there at Bob’s.

We found a possible lead on a campsite farther south so we drove on. Stormy weather taunted us directly ahead. Close to the Washington – Oregon border we saw a sign along the road for a campground and decided to check it out. It was situated along the north bank of the Columbia River. It was really an RV park, but the nice lady at the booth offered us a spot on the open grass. We happily took it and were the only ones there with a tent.

We set up our brand new (!) luxurious four-person tent and spread out everything inside. It easily fit our two sleeping bags, a blanket for Nali to sleep on, Evie’s carseat, multiple bags of stuff, and even a little diaper changing station. Evie sat happily in her bumbo watching as we set up camp. As the sun began to set, it was clear that the storms had missed us and it was all blue skies. The springtime light filtered through the trees and lit up the white puffs of dandelions. Things were looking up.

Day 2: Not Quite Oregon to Joseph

Just a few minutes after leaving the campsite we were across the bridge and officially in Oregon. Pendleton was our next stop and the Woolen Mill was first on our list. We browsed the colorful flannels and blankets in what seemed like a museum of cabin coziness. We bought WAY too many blankets, but like I always say, there’s no such thing as too many blankets. Next, we headed downtown to the historic Hamley’s & Co, makers of world-famous saddles since 1883. From the outside, it looked like a tourist trap, but as soon as we walked in, it was obvious that this place is legit. The brick interior two-story store was packed with every kind of fine leather good and adorned with massive bronze statues of bucking broncos. To top it off, they had an entire room full of saddles and gear. It was quite impressive.

For lunch, we stumbled upon the Main Street Diner, complete with checkered floor and fantastic food. I had a club sandwich (my diner go-to) and a strawberry shake and I think they were both the best I’ve ever had. I took half of my sandwich to go and this made a wonderful road snack later. On the way out of town we stopped by the post office to mail home a postcard I picked up in Hamley’s. I wanted to send Evie a postcard from the road each day recounting the highlights.

Our next destination was Joseph, a small town nestled in the Wallowa Mountains. Instead of taking the most direct route, we headed northeast through the Blue Mountains. The name is a bit misleading because these mountains are full of green- ponderosa, juniper and larch dominated the landscape. As we climbed higher and higher into the Blues, we watched the temperature drop. We saw some rain clouds hovering over the peaks as we approached the mountains from Pendleton, and now we were in them. But it wasn’t raining, it was snowing, hard.

Giant snowflakes filled the sky and covered the ground. It was mid-May, in eastern Oregon. It was supposed to be warm, not snowing! We embraced the unexpected weather and stopped and got out of the car. I immediately stuck my tongue out to catch snowflakes and yelled at Evie to look! look! I don’t think she fully appreciated the impromptu blizzard. We continued on. Once through the Blues, the landscape flattened to rolling green hills. Soon enough the Wallowas were in view and we arrived in Joseph.

Joseph and Lake Wallowa was originally home to Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce tribe. The land was promised to them in an 1855 treaty until gold was discovered. The miners and Native Americans clashed until there were negotiations for a new treaty to shrink the boundaries of the reservation. The Nez Perce refused to sign and this eventually turned into war. In the end, Chief Joseph moved his people away from the area instead of living in the confines of the reservation. After his surrender, the government took the land and allowed it to be settled. Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce were banished from their homeland. The town was later named after Chief Joseph and we visited a memorial in his honor on the north side of the lake. This serves as a reminder of the injustices many Native Americans faced.

We had intended to camp, but it was much colder than we anticipated and it was forecasted to get down into the 20’s at night. We opted instead to rent a room at the south end of Wallowa Lake. We settled in and then bundled Evie up and walked to Wallowa Lake State Park. As we walked, deer appeared around us, seemingly following us. We walked out onto the shoreline and watched the sun set until we could no longer stand the cold. Later, I woke up in the middle of the night and walked outside to get some air. I swear I could see every single star in the sky.

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Outdoor Life

Total Solar Eclipse

August 25, 2017July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

I was lucky enough to see the total solar eclipse from Baker City, Oregon on Monday. It is an experience I will never forget and one that is difficult to describe. It is one that no pictures can do justice. You have to be there to see the eerie darkening and feel the temperature drop. And when that last burst of light fades into totality, it is pure magic.

Since I couldn’t find the words, I turned to literature.

“The sky snapped over the sun like a lens cover,” is how Annie Dillard describes it in her classic dark and eerie essay Total Eclipse about the 1979 total solar eclipse she witnessed in Yakima, Washington.

David Baron describes the feeling of otherworldly transcendence in his book, American Eclipse. “A total eclipse is a primal, transcendent experience. The shutting off of the sun does not bring utter darkness; it is more like falling through a trapdoor into a dimly lit, unrecognizable reality. The sky is not the sky of the earth – neither the star-filled dome of night nor the immersive blue of daylight, but an ashen ceiling of slate. A few bright stars and planets shine familiarly, like memories from a distant childhood, but the most prominent object is thoroughly foreign. You may know, intellectually, that it is both the sun and moon, yet it looks like neither. It is an ebony pupil surrounded by a pearly iris. It is the eye of the cosmos.”

But my favorite description is from Leigh Ann Henion in her book, Phenomenal, as she watched a total solar eclipse on an Australian beach. “Slowly, the plasma that has been hidden in the sun’s harshest rays begins to push out from the center of the moon, like iridescent petals blooming in darkness. Before me, the corona cries out in streamers of light. The face of the sun is white as stars, lilies, snow. It expands until it is a ring of pure light pulsating in the sky. Its edges have the same twinkling as those pale fingers that play music in the solar winds.”

As we took off in an airplane from Baker City shortly after totality, we saw coyotes roaming in the grass nearby. The air traffic controller warned pilots to watch out for a “flock of coyotes” on the runway, perhaps more accustomed to warning of hazards of the winged kind. There was something raw and surreal about taking off as a pack of coyotes roamed the runways. It was a little haunting but mostly humbling. It was a reminder of how little control we as humans really have on our universe and a reminder of how lucky we are to live on our spectacular planet Earth.

American Eclipse by David Baron
In the summer of 1878, a total solar eclipse swept across the country from the Rocky Mountains of Montana to Texas. Astronomers and scientists clamored and braved the arduous journey west to witness the rare event. Among them was the famous Thomas Edison who was testing out a new invention that measured the amount of heat radiating from the corona of the sun and the astronomer Maria Mitchell who brought a team of female students to observe and record data in a time when the field was largely male dominated. Baron recounts this exciting time in history that brings together astronomy and adventure in this fascinating book.

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Road Trip

Painted Hills

April 20, 2017August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Ten years ago, when I moved to Seattle and had my first real job, I bought the prettiest calendar I could find with pictures of beautiful landscapes. Every month I was excited to see what the next one would be. On one of those months, I flipped up to a picture of the Painted Hills in Oregon. I had never seen anything like it before. The tan hills were striped with red and black and bursts of yellow flowers saturated the ravines. I was fascinated by this foreign landscape and vowed to go there someday.

Several years later in 2010, I took a road trip to Bend, Oregon over the 4th of July. I decided while I was there to take a day trip to the place I’ve been wanting to see. So Nali dog and I headed through the Ochoco National Forest to the Painted Hills Unit of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument.

The hills appear otherworldly as you approach the overlook. The colorful strata alternate from tan to red to black and are volcanic in origin. The oldest layers date back to 35 million years ago when this area was a lush, warm, and humid place. Prehistoric animals roamed here: saber-toothed tiger, camels and elephants. The climate was ideal for fossil formation and over the years many important fossils have been found here.

Native Americans frequented the area gathering roots and fishing for salmon in the nearby John Day river. They were the first to discover and appreciate the fossils here. Much later, in 1811, John Jacob Astor sent trappers out to explore the region. An unfortunate member of the group named John Day became lost and was robbed by Native Americans at the mouth of the river that now bears his name.

The first stop along the way is the Painted Hills Overlook Trail. This short trail boasts incredible views of the hills in all their glory. The 1/2 mile round trip trail climbs only 100 feet, and Nali and I felt every foot of it in the blazing heat of mid-summer. It must have been 100 degrees. But it was very much worth it. Desert wildflowers burst from the sagebrush and I kept my eyes out for snakes.

Next I drove a bit further to the short Red Cove trail. A boardwalk curves around the natural smooth clay mounds that tower above your head. I’ve never seen a landscape with such a rich red hue. It seemed unnatural and I was surprised to see life flourishing in the unusual soil. In fact, some of the species here are endemic to the region due to the unique soil.

I wandered some more on the short trails throughout the park soaking up every bit with astonishment and wonder. I felt as if I had been transported to another world, especially because there were hardly any other people out on the trails. I wondered what it would have been like for the Native Americans and early explorers to just stumble upon this extraordinary place. What did they think of it?

I finally had to tear myself away for sake of the heat (and my poor black dog) and mosey back to Bend. But not without a stop in one of many small Central Oregon towns for an ice cream cone.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Painted Hills Trails

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Road Trip

Smith Rock

April 4, 2017August 7, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

Have you ever stumbled upon a place by pure accident that turned out to be amazing? Many years ago, it happened to me at Smith Rock State Park. I was taking a little road trip to Bend, Oregon and planning out my trip on Google maps, looking for anything interesting along the way. I found a little green square close to Bend, indicating a park, and decided I would stop to check it out if I had some spare time without giving it much research or thought. Little did I know that I would happen upon one of the most beautiful places in Oregon.

Smith Rock State Park is located in the high desert of central Oregon and carved out of volcanic basalt. A caldera was formed 30 million years ago when the surrounding land collapsed into a lava chamber. Over time, the rock cooled and hardened and later, the Crooked River made its mark by carving out a canyon with 600 foot shear cliffs.

Smith Rock appears as a mirage as you drive toward it on completely flat terrain. It seemingly pops up out of nowhere and you can’t help but to go toward the towering features. There are several trails that meander along Crooked River in the green that clings to the river’s banks. Water fowl and other birds abound here and peregrine falcons and golden eagles nest in the cliff sides.

Sagebrush, ponderosa pine and desert wildflowers line the trails. Butterflies kiss the tops of yarrow. I was especially excited to see pink mariposa lilies and an old, twisted, fragrant juniper tree. The blue juniper “berries” are not really berries at all, they are the conifer’s cones. The birds are tricked into eating them and in turn spread their seed.

After wandering along the river a bit, I wanted to get up high and see the sights. I found a trail that headed up (very steeply) and climbed the rocky trail to Misery Ridge. Views expand for miles here. Nearby, I saw people rock climbing up an impossible looking column that had the unmistakable demeanor of a monkey. Later I found out that the tower is indeed called Monkey Face and is a popular climbing spot.

In fact, as I descended (more like slid down) the scree and headed back along the canyon floor, I learned that this is quite the rock climbing hot spot. In fact, it is a world class rock climbing spot and people from all over the world come to climb here. Want to try your skills? A long list of options appear if you look up climbing guides.

I also learned that there is some local lore about how the rock was named. Some say it was named after a US Calvary private named Smith who jumped from the spires rather than be caught by Native Americans. Although it is more likely that he actually fell from the rock during a bloody battle while he tried to get to a good vantage point. A less popular but most likely claim is that the rock is named after a sheriff called John Smith in the 1850’s.

As I headed back to the car I saw families picnicking and tourists alongside world class rock climbing athletes, birders, and just regular hikers like me. It is really a special place where anyone can find something to love.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Misery Ridge Loop

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Road Trip

Columbia Gorge Waterfalls

April 19, 2016July 30, 2018
by Ashley Gossens

I’ve done the drive so many times I could do it blindfolded. From Seattle, drive south on I-5 for a million hours and turn left at the Columbia River. A familiar whirl of wind envelopes me like I’ve entered a wind tunnel into the past.

The gorge is filled with history. The formation itself is a fascinating story. A massive flood ripped down the Columbia River during the Ice Age. Ice dams that held the glacial Lake Missoula, broke apart sending a torrent of water flooding much of eastern Washington and the Columbia River. The flood waters carved out a canyon leaving only the hard remnants of ancient volcanic rock forming what we know today as the gorge.

Native Americans have lived in the gorge for over 13,000 years. Much like today, it was an important transportation corridor to travel and conduct trade. It was also an important source of salmon. Lewis and Clark travelled the gorge in 1905 on their way to the Pacific Ocean and early settlers established steamboat lines along the river.

The first stop on the old Columbia River Highway is the Vista House. Perched at 700 feet on the rocky Crown Point, the small stone observatory gives an eagle’s perspective of the gorge. It was built as a resting place for early adventurers in the times before the interstate.

The first thing you will notice as you descend from the Vista House is how green it is here. This area, with little protection from the Pacific Ocean and it’s weather, receives around 70 inches of rain a year. This combined with the steep canyon cliffs creates a wonderland of waterfalls.

The first major waterfall you encounter is Lautorell Falls. If you weren’t watching for the sign, you could easily miss it. Enjoy a short walk to the base of the 250 foot high falls or travel further to Upper Latourell Falls. The next falls is Bridal Veil. This popular short trail travels the north side of the highway to the pretty falls. Most people just stop to check out the falls, but there is a lovely loop that travels through some of the best camas displays I’ve seen, and it’s usually not as crowded.

The 620 foot high Multnomah Falls with its iconic Benson Bridge is incredibly beautiful, but it’s also incredibly crowded. Leave the crowds behind on the Multnomah-Wahkeena Loop Trail. You could conduct a day long scavenger hunt on this trail with all the waterfalls and wildflowers found here. Fairy Falls, Ecola Falls, Weisendanger Falls and Dutchman Falls all cascade along this route and the trail is lined with dutchman’s britches, fairy bells, mountain bells, cow poison and Oregon iris, just to name a few.

Next up is Horsetail Falls which greets you right at the trailhead. But by now you know that it takes just a little more effort to get to something even better. In this case, it’s Ponytail Falls. This one is particularly fun in that you can actually walk behind it. A trail cuts through the eroded space behind the falls giving you a whole new perspective.

Lastly, there is my favorite, Elowah Falls. It’s not particularly different than the others, but I just love the big patch of golden lichen growing on the rock nearby and it’s contrast with the green around it. The waterfall itself is inviting and appears like a cloud. I like to think that if I touched it, it would feel like ribbons of cotton.

There are endless numbers of waterfalls in this area, and these are just some that you could visit in a day or two. The adventure of the gorge is just beginning at this point. Continue east to cross over into a completely different land, one that is dry and arid in complete contrast to the green and wet western portion. As the sun is setting, drive up the winding switchbacks to Rowena Crest to see the sun light up the purple and gold of the bountiful lupine and balsamroot.

Hikes Featured in this Post:
Latourell Falls
Multnomah Falls – Wahkeena Falls Loop
Horsetail Falls Loop
Elowah Falls & Upper McCord Creek Falls