Mt. Hood and the Columbia River Gorge—Hidden in Plain View

I have a secret place that I visit only once a year, if that. Somewhere on the south side of Mt. Hood, well off the highway, down a dirt road and through a thicket of brambles and fallen trees, is my huckleberry patch. A hollow surrounded on all sides by protective bushes and middle age timber, you enter by stooping under a decomposing Douglas fir that lies across a dry creek bed. I'm sorry I can't tell you exactly where, because then you might try to find it. Actually, some years my secret place is so good at disguising itself that even I have a hard time locating the front door.

When it comes to huckleberries, timing is everything. They can appear anytime in August and hang on for just a few weeks. Some years they're still clinging to their wistful branches as late as the middle of September. The berries can be as small as a currant or as plump as a blueberry. Their skins vary from deep red to near black. Depending on the year, they can be in clumps that require only a gentle tug to send dozens cascading into your pail, or as sparse as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. That is what makes a successful huckleberry hunt so satisfying.

I am a second-generation Oregon huckleberry-er. One of the greatest treats for me growing up was a Saturday morning breakfast of huckleberry compote and fresh whipped cream over waffles. Taste one of my mother's still-warm huckleberry muffins, and you'd wonder why the blueberry even bothers; the flavor of a ripe wild huckleberry is what its lowly domesticated cousin wishes it could flaunt.

As a region, the Mt. Hood and Columbia Gorge area has wild sides that are clearly defined by seasons, too. One in particular: snow. The snow pack not only determines how happy skiers and snowboarders will be, but how much spring and summer melt will greet those who come here to fish, hike, camp, windsurf or, yes, pick huckleberries. After a few years here, you realize how much you use Mt. Hood and its relative whiteness as a gauge for what the coming months will hold.

Three years ago I stood on the summit of that mountain at daybreak and took in a 360º view of this region. It was amazing to have this top-level look at the diversity of this surrounding topography. To the east, the green of the Hood River Valley's fruit orchards and vineyards give way to the earth tones of the high desert. To the north, the Columbia River slices through the landscape, creating the perfect wind tunnel that turned the Gorge into a kiteboarder's Mecca. To the south, the peaks of the Cascade Range line themselves up like chess pieces on the checkerboard forests. To the west, the Willamette Valley kneels in front of the Coast range beyond.

It could take years to discover all the subtleties that differentiate this part of Oregon. Some of them are in your face, like Mt. Hood's looming crest or the soaring cliffs of the Columbia River Gorge. Others are far more understated, like the way the mountain's forests slowly transition into its valleys' farmlands, or the way you can happen upon a new discovery, like a well-hidden huckleberry patch.

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