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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (March 1, 1879)
March, 187$, 70 THE WEST SHORE. Bui luppoM we discard ihc slow moving steamboat and take air-line pas s.i-c for the lummil of Mt. Hood. Coatpicuouf by its central potltion among the high peak of the northern Sierras, easily accessible by means of the old immigrant toad which crosses its southern flank, and in fidl view from idl the large towni of( Ircgon, Mt. Hood has lieen 11)01 0 often ascended, be rhymed and painted than any of its majestic brotherhood, of the sixty mile which lie between it and Portland we need not speak, though the slender lirs swaying at the slightest w ind, the vine-maples draped with moss-wreaths, the brook and waterfalls along the valley of the milk- bite Sandy arc very beautiful if not practically useful, and the lonely farms carved from the forest by year of pa tient labor, are Eminently useful if not beautiful. We must stop one moment, however, on Laurel Hill to breathe the sweet scent of the Mountain Halm, most beautiful of Iregon shruhs, and to view the igag road down which the imini giants of thirty years flK used to let their wagon hy ropes. On this const Vti make hi-tory n well as other things very fast, 10 those immigrants of '4j, looking eagerly from l.Urcl Hill out toward the luasc of hill ami plain which con stituted the prOMMd land, tbc only sign of life were Indian camp-fire and smoke of the prairie grnss fired to startle came into tbc hunter's sight. San Francise. Portland, Walla Walla, to. day ! Thirty year ago, a dismal range of sand hill, a tangled forest, an Indian camp.ground. We , I Ik bright little prairies Whleh lie at the foot of Mt. Hood, and make out last camp on the southern sjda of the mountain, at the edge of tbc 'tow. A dump of tuntcd bemlorki braaka the heavy wi,,,), ,m n hu DCMhAnj I'H.llit.e the chilly air. As night cfl .ee. the coloring of sun et, and the stars l.c with a brilliancy unknown at lowe. lexeK, wd boV H. when tbc lay of moonlight shoot noss the stiuw.lickU above u, M atter g d.aitKMtds i (hah- path, at, over wltelming Mditude settles down upon Use lonely camp. The withered hem UU ' and groat, in the icv wind, ami the alpine blossoms cringe. Pol years, perhaps ccntut ic, thaaa stunted . Inn... luu.ii sli iii'ilinir iust r ...... 00 o j On the edge of winter, and the bl ight little Rowers nave ncen innging ine very skirts of the snow-king himself. On the other hand the glaciers have been, in their turn, creeping down to ward the summer, and on the bordei land they trickle away drop by drop and loose themselves in tbc thickening vegetation. The view from our camp by moon light surpasses in wicrd grandeur any of the daylight scenes. The inequali ties of the wooded hills helow us dis appear in the imperfect lie-lit. and 1 o stretch away like n sea of ink, the uni form blackness relieved only hy the sparkle of lakes here and there through which we seem to look into luminous lepths far beneath. Away southward, more fleecy than a Cloud, lies the snOWV mass nf Mt T..iT..i- son. To the north the irrent rfnma ,,C O v Ml. N. Helens seems to come nearer and nearer in the uncertain moonlight, un til we imagine it banging right above our heads, just readv to hurv us bJ j neath aif avalanche of snow and rocks. Some enterprising capitalist with a view to enhance his own finances by ministering to the happiness of the hu man race, will at no distant time estab lish a summer resort here. Every pos sible requisite for a mountain retreat exists Here 111 its fulness. Groves of hemlock and of the beautiful Pkca AW,, full of (lowers and birds and an abundance of huge game, lakes stocked with trout, sparkling mountain stream, everything, indeed, which can please the mind and eye and stomach of the lover of nature, has been be stowed here without stint. Up in the morning in time to sec tbc un turn all the eastern flank of the mountains into a sheet of molten .!l.. too bright to look at. Vast masses of g rest on the seaward side of the mountain. On the cast side there is not vestige of cloud, and the great plain duadv begins to palpitate with the beat of the Joiy morning, while we, in our breev cvrie. iv thn.,....i I , ---- icei above, slake our thirst with chunks of or all the running streams have vanished during the night. We must be armed with pikc-polcs props and a hatchet: our ,. .,.11 , ' --o IIIU51. oe KKgll and our faces blacked. After nas exhausted himself i Ughlag at the grotesque appcaracc of the rut, we start. For half a mile we follow a long ridge from which the. snow lias disappeared, while down the valleys on either side, run long tongues of snow, whose surface, dingy with glacial de bris and with the dust blown from the denuded ridges, plainly shows that it has slid below its proper sphere. The air is wondrously clear. We amuse ourselves in guessing at the dis tance of a huge drift rock in the center of the snow-field. It appears to be about five hundred yards. The guess of a mile is received with jeers. Hut for three hours that imperturbable mass of matter looked down upon our slippinga and pantings and fre quent prostrations full length upon the snow. It was over two miles, and very elastic miles too, from our guessing point. We reach the Center Rocks or Sul phur Rocks as they are sometimes called, and now comes the tug of war. Only half a mile to the top, but we find to our grief that it is one of that class of half miles which count. The majority of Mt. Hood's visitors omit the ceremony of going beyond this point. They deny any imputations of exhaustion, but somehow they don't see that there is any practical benefit in exerting themselves just for the last thousand feet. The Sulphur Rocks are the remains of the old rim of the crater. The greater part of the crater walls on all sides except the north have crumbled away and been borne off on the bncks of glaciers, as coolly if not as rapidly as Samson carried off the gates of Gaza. Still the sulphurous snorts which make these remaining shaggy masses quake, attest the presence some where under ground of the old volcano king, though perhaps he is not quite so regal now as in those old days, ages and ages ago, when Mt. Hood was shaking the last lingering spray of tbc ocean from which it had just arisen, off its steaming head. When the cra ter walls were complete on all sides, that volcanic crest doubtless shot up thousands of feet above its present alti tude. Now only a few shattered col umns remain to attest the collosal ma jesty of the ancient structure. Hchind us as we climb tbc broken fragments of the Sulphur Rocks lies a wondrous panorama; hills and valleys, lakes and forests. But we prefer to cat