WILSON RIVER MYSTERY: Footbridge Trailhead

Some of my colleagues headed out to fish on the Wilson River last Saturday. I thought it might be a good photo opportunity and planned to meet them somewhere between Lee’s Camp and the Footbridge Trailhead, but I forgot how early fishermen like to get up on weekends and I’m pretty sure they had gutted and cleaned their fish before I was even conscious that morning.

It didn’t escape my attention that a trailhead implies access to a trail. Soon, I found myself exploring a short section of the Wilson River Trail.

View from the footbridge – looking downriver

The river flows pretty quickly around a corner and into a kind of narrow rock throat that results in a variety of flow ratio phenomena like whirlpools and eddies and something that almost looks like boiling water. Knowledgeable fisher-people say things like, “Yeah, there’s a good ole’ hole there.” It is sometimes difficult to determine when fisher-people transition from talking about fishing to talking about sex.

There were signs that the amount of water in the riverbed had recently been much higher.

The Wilson River Trail might more appropriately be called the High Coast Range Trail That Never Affords a Glimpse of the Wilson River Unless It’s the Middle of Winter and There Aren’t Any Leaves on the Trees.

Eventually, I left the trail in order to get close to the river.

The direct sunlight was surprisingly warm. I sat on a rock next to the water and opened a beer. I was content to watch an underwater snail travel an inch or two. Some people had to settle for NASCAR

Later I found a tiny diagonally flowing waterfall.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

I noticed a strange carving in a rock along the trail. I wondered what people had populated this land in earlier times.

Detailed image of rock carving.

It was cold in the shade, and here and there were the tell-tale signs of winter – patches of snow hiding from the sun. I weaved my way through the woods and underbrush and broke into a hidden clearing.

Detailed image of clearing.

I’ve seen some strange things on my hiking trips this past year – or at least thought I saw strange things (Naked Picasso comes to mind) – but I was hard pressed to come up with a theory that would explain the presence of a barbell loaded with 400 pounds of weight in the middle of an empty clearing…

…and a carrot lying amongst a handful of rocks.

ARCHEOLOGICAL FINDINGS: High Rocks, Gladstone, OR

Joe (in blue) found himself wishing the boat had emergency brakes.

Carbon dating reveals that some native rock paintings date nearly all the way back to the late nineties.

Early inhabitants carved elaborate toilet seats into the natural rock.

…also sinks.

Ruins of a temple pyramid provide evidence that the extent of the Mayan civilization has been severely underestimated.

Carved throne showing an unmistakable Atlantean influence

Carved throne - detail

Ripples in time

Ancient engineers drove these rings into large rocks. The large rocks were then hooked to UFOs, carved into shape by laser beams and utilized in the construction of huge pyramids.

Site of human sacrifice

Low cost housing

Front porch

Almost half as dangerous as Ali Baba’s 40 thieves

Patio with a view – watching the river run.

LAVA CANYON - Closed Until Further Notice

The same rains that wiped out portions of the Ramona Falls trail also played havoc with the area around Mt. St. Helens (See also Ramona Falls Trail (Super-sized) Part Two - http://thenarrativeimage.blogspot.com/2007/05/ramona-falls-trail-super-sized-part-two.html ) .

Road 83, the 11.3 mile road that terminates at the Lava Canyon trailhead is washed out at about the 7 mile mark. There is a closed gate at the six mile mark (it’s locked…I checked) so access to June Lake, Ape Canyon and Lava Canyon require extra hiking or biking.

It can be somewhat disheartening to plod mile after mile along a broad road where posted signs sarcastically remind you to take the next curve at thirty-five miles an hour. There isn’t much to see besides trees until mile ten or so when one begins to approach a massive lahar spawned by Mt. St. Helens’ 1980 eruption.


It seems our human attention span is just not long enough to register the antics of volcanoes. We think the ground beneath us is stable and permanent and dare to build roads and skyscrapers.

Occasionally, a spokesperson for geologic time - like Mt. St. Helens - makes an eloquent case for the temporary nature of our species and its accomplishments.

Even so, we biologicals share a certain kind of stubborn shortsightedness.

Probing for weaknesses, the mountain reaches out with a finger of water.

I knew the road to Lava Canyon was closed, but what I didn’t know was that the Lava Canyon trail was also closed due to storm damage.

After walking for five miles, I kind of had a hankering to at least see what sort of storm damage had occurred. However, not wanting to defy the forest service, and taking various warnings of imminent death at face value, I could see no alternative but to send in the Monkey-Cam.

According to the Monkey-Cam, this guardrail and the little metal footings are all that remain of the trail’s first bridge.

Also, various handrails and other guides have been displaced leaving hikers to rely on their common sense when making decisions about how close to stand to the edge of polished lava overlooks.

Posted signs warn that there have been a number of recent fatalities in and around these waters.

Lava Canyon’s story goes something like this: In the distant past, between major events, a big forest covered this canyon’s floor. Then, in the course of time, Mt. St. Helens erupted and sent a river of basaltic lava down the canyon (the thick black layer). Parts of the lava layer cooled slowly enough to form crystal-like vertical columns.

Eventually, the canyon was buried and covered with a new forest that thrived until 1980 when tributaries of the massive lahar (seen earlier) scoured out the valley and revealed the remnants of the ancient lava flow.

The Monkey-Cam refused to cross the suspension bridge because of the sign that explained about it being ‘under repair’. The Monkey-Cam also started to demand more bananas as a hazardous pay bonus. Since I only had so many bananas and was unable to strike a deal with my store of trail mix, I’m afraid I have no data for points beyond the suspension bridge and cannot confirm whether the route to Smith Creek is still passable.

The setting sun creates an evocative image, casting a reddish glow in the sky above the restless mountain – as if the atmosphere were illuminated by a crater full of molten magma.