Head to Mount Hood on any given summer Saturday, and it can be hard to imagine finding quiet and solitude.  At times the traffic, noise, and crowds can be downright maddening.  People love this mountain, and all of its forests, lakes, and rivers.  So much so that sometimes we are in danger of loving them to death.

The good news is that if one is willing to sweat a little, you can still find beautiful wild places around Mount Hood, and that groups like Oregon Wild and Trout Unlimited are working hard to keep them that way.  On Saturday, July 19^th, we partnered to take a small group of folks out to see one such place, the Salmon River Meadows Wilderness Proposal, and to enjoy a day of back country fishing for beautiful native cutthroat trout.

The drive out of Portland on Saturday morning was marked by clouds and occasional drizzling rain.  Inevitably, the conversation in my car turned to concerns about turn-out.  When one’s alarm goes off at 7:00 AM on a gray, rainy morning in Portland, it can be hard to stay motivated to get out of bed and travel up to Mount Hood to spend the day outdoors.  

But as we neared the rendezvous location not far from Trillium Lake, the clouds parted, the sun came out, and suddenly we were treated a beautiful day with the snow-capped peak of Mount Hood posing in all it’s glory.  Our fear that the snooze bar and a couple of extra hours of sleep would win out over scenic vistas and fishing proved to be unfounded.  Not only did everyone who signed up for the trip join us, but everyone was actually early (with several anglers arriving earlier than their hike leaders.) I blame the lack of coffee at my house.

After some car shuffling and a short drive to the trail head, we were off.  Tom Wolf (TU’s Oregon Council President) and I had scouted the area the day before, exploring various options for accessing the river.  This 2,200 acre area is wild country.  Though the meadows themselves are flat, there are no easy ways to access them (or the river.)  Cross-country travel can involve serious bush whacking and hikes along steep slopes (as Tom and I experience the hard way).  Though you can get into meadows off Highway 26, this time of year they are covered in chest high grass and flowering lupine—beautiful, but trying to hike through the stuff can be hazardous to one’s ankles and knees.

Rather than subject our 8 trip participants to rhododendron thickets, climbing over old-growth logs, and swift-water crossings of the Salmon, we decided to stick to the trail and fish just upstream of an old log foot bridge over the river.  It proved to be a wise choice.  We arrived at the bridge to find a nice warm patch of mosquito-free sunshine, and rigged up our rods.  Several trip participants were new to the art of fly fishing, and Tom and I gave a bit of instruction on stringing up a fly rod, knot tying, and pinching down the barbs of hooks.  It wasn’t long before our little group was eager to hit the water, and off we went.

This area of the Salmon is tough fishing.  It is fast, cold water (flowing faster and colder than normal due to the huge snowpack on Mount Hood this year), and surrounded by thick rhododendron and vine maple.  This made casting tough, especially for the anglers just beginning to get the hang of fly casting.  Many flies were sacrificed to the Fish Gods that morning.

But when we grew frustrated with back casts that landed in sword ferns, all we had to do was look up to be amazed by some towering old-growth douglas firs and red cedars.  This part of Mount Hood experienced several large forest fires in the early 1900’s, and many of the big tress were killed.  But some survived, and the area was allowed to recover naturally.  On a hike into the Salmon River area today, one can experience both beautiful native trees that are 75 to 90 years old, and the occasional towering giant that is 250 years old and older.  Some of these ancients are marked by black fire scars, testament to the past (and to the fact that old-growth trees tend to survive fires better than younger trees.)

As the day went by, casting and technique improved, and soon a number of folks had found willing native cutthroat rising to their flies.  Though small, these fish are beautiful, and their abundance in the Salmon River is a good indication that it is still a healthy watershed. 

Breaking for lunch gave us time to get to know each other a bit more, and I was amazed by the diversity of folks who came to join us.  Some were recent college grads and AmeriCorps volunteers.  One family of long-time Portland residents came looking to get into the art of fly fishing and enjoy a nice hike.  Some had never fished for anything before, and came on the trip to learn.  Some were seasoned veterans looking to explore a wild place. 

If one is looking for wildness, beauty, and solitude, the Salmon River Meadows area has all that in spades.  Unfortunately, it is easy to take such places for granted.  A century of logging and development has taken a toll on Mount Hood’s wild lands.  Most of the mountain’s low elevation meadows have been developed, and stands of native forest—untouched by logging and road building—are becoming increasingly rare all across Oregon. 

The good news is that the Salmon River Meadows area is part of federal Wilderness legislation currently being considered in Congress.  Wilderness designation would safeguard this area forever from logging and other development, and ensure that future generations also have a chance to come and enjoy a peaceful day of fishing on the river.  After finishing our lunch and hiking back to the trail head, the intrepid back country anglers of the Salmon River each took a postcard to sign and mail in to Oregon’s Senators Ron Wyden (D) and Gordon Smith (R), urging them to act quickly to pass Mount Hood Wilderness legislation.

After that short, steep, dusty hike back to our vehicles, we headed off to Trillium Lake, just a short distance from the Salmon River.  It was a good spot to practice fly casting, go for a swim, take in the beauty of Mount Hood, and appreciate the wild solitude of the river we had just come from.  While our little party was the only group in the Salmon River Meadows, there were dozens and dozens of families enjoying Trillium Lake.  Boats bobbed like rubber duckies out on the lake, and every square inch of the shore was packed with sunbathers, fishermen, dog walkers, and picnics.  The parking lot was overflowing, and efforts to practice fly casting off the dam were constantly interrupted by passing motor homes and pickup trucks.

After a day spent enjoying the quiet beauty of the Salmon River, it was a good reminder of how precious our remaining wild places are.

 Check out higher resolution photos from this trip here.