Journalist By Nature: The Other Side

Mt. Hood from Coyote Wall

What difference does three miles of water make? This is the width of the Columbia River near Hood River, Oregon and White Salmon, Washington. Having roamed the Tom McCall Preserve on the Oregon side of the river last week (http://journalistbynature.blogspot.com) we decided to examine the south-facing hillside of Coyote Wall and the Labyrinth Loop on the Washington side this time. Bathed in unseasonably scorching 85 degrees, this piece of topography is another wildflower extravaganza, but of a different selection.

The shift in air currents down The Gorge brought sirocco-like winds from the warmer central part of the state. Even in the early morning hours, hair scattering as if blown by a super hairdryer, we were quite comfortable in shorts and sleeveless tops, backpacks holding our super supply of hydration liquids and sunscreen slathered on extra thick. Closing car doors with an extra tug against the steady blast we sped to our destination 60 miles away.

The lucent azure sky rolled endlessly on and provided a stunning backdrop for the rugged black-toned basalt cliffs studded with clumps of colonizing neon-yellow Desert parsley. Leafless trees stood silhouetted against this wash of colors, preparing to burst into a puff of spring green foliage. The old highway which in earlier times hugged the vertical cliffs high above the river now endures a random shower of boulders tumbling away from the cracking wall of rock. The roadway was closed for safety years ago and traffic routed along the newer Washington Highway 14 below. Hoofing it to the trailhead .7 mile east we followed the lambent Desert parsley-outlined road, or what was left uncovered by debris and passed through an ancient barbed wire fence gate, pausing to take in the expansive view upriver toward The Dalles. The calmly flowing waters were touched with whitecaps on this day, absent the often seen wind surfers who were missing a rad play day.

Coyote Wall is the perpendicular basalt structure that remains after its western half folded. Here is a short technical article worth reading that explains the geological movements. For hiking purposes, this area is visually rounded and soft with a delicate ocean of waving grasses but with a rocky surface holding a very thin layer of soil in which wildflowers take root. The trail heads generally north but soon branches off to multiple trails that scratch the face of the hillside like battle scars. Mountain bikers frequent this place and wear deep trenches in the trails so we move to the side a bit to find level footing as well as avoid the bikers' rapid descents. Because of the thin soil layer it is recommended that hikers stay on or as close to the trail as possible to avoid damaging the fragile plant life. Some side paths are closed for a period of plant rejuvenation.

Taking the westerly trail we meandered up a sinuous path near the edge of The Wall. Large splotches of Desert parsley dot the landscape and clamor for attention. It's hard to overlook them! But a closer examination reveals scattered tidbits of color, perhaps best described as tiny fairy bouquets. Minuscule deep purple-blue lupine blossoms, a mere millimeter or two across, grow side by side with larger white death camas, diminutive popcorn flowers, wild onions, golden bugloss fiddleneck, and a host of other unidentified but colorful mini-blooms. Although filled with flowers, this side of the river is not as dramatic as the balsamroot, grass widows or satin satin flower as it is sometimes called, yellow bells and purple desert parsley that carpet the Oregon side. Pushing to reach what I thought was the top of the hill I came upon a spread of balsamroot that replaced most of the yellow Desert parsley but also stretched for another two hilltops and unknown territory. Having achieved my goal for this hike I sat and drank in the top-of-the-world view of the mighty Columbia River but seeing only a tiny portion of its 1200 mile route.

Mountain biker

After lunching by boulders at the edge of The Wall we headed downhill to transverse the slope toward The Labyrinth and two creek-fed waterfalls. Again dodging downhill mountain bikers we stopped to enjoy the cool sounds of a bubbling brook rushing along over small rocks on its way to the river far below. Drawn by the moist conditions, moss and lush plants crowded close for their share of the water. An old gray skeleton of a tree stood watch over the spot as we stepped carefully over the stream on rocks well-placed by previous travelers. Continuing farther east we reached the edge of The Labyrinth, "the common name for the general area between Coyote Wall and Catherine Creek. It gets its name from the maze-like characteristic of the narrow canyons between the rocky cliffs." (Oregon Hikers.com) Peering over the steep precipice we view more basalt columns across a deep canyon but make no attempt to reach them on this journey.

Looping around to reach the lower part of the hill we enjoy mutual picture taking with other hikers at another short waterfall before heading back to the road leading to our parked cars. Water still seeps from within the rocky basalt incline to drip deliciously down the face of the cliffs. We are on our last ounces of water and the temperature is rising as heat is reflected from the hill. Thankfully the winds have kept us air conditioned but they are beginning to slack off by mid-afternoon. This is a hike that must be taken by the end of April else the baking sun will exhaust all hikers and dry the wildflowers to a seedpod crisp. Catch it while you can!