Ape Canyon

Are there really apes in Ape Canyon?  (Inquiring minds want to know!)

Over the many times I've hiked here, no apes have ever been spotted.  But I do know if you want to get some great views of Mt. St. Helens, travel through a spectacular old-growth forest spared from the eruption, and in July see a great wildflower show, then the Ape Canyon trail is for you.

Young admiring the big trees

In mid-July a desolate pumice plain on the SE side of Mt. St. Helens called the "Plains of Abraham" erupts into a purple frenzy thanks to huge amounts of lupine and penstemon wildflowers.  The best way to reach this flowerful place is via the Ape Canyon trail.  One needs to climb 5 miles up Ape Canyon to rendezvous with the round-the-mountain Loowit Trail.  Then there's another mile or so on the Loowit to reach this stark, but beautiful area.

Hoping to catch the wildflower show on the Plains of Abraham, I invited my hiking buddy Young to join me for a trek up Ape Canyon.  Although it was near the end of July, I hoped that the flowers were still going strong.  One way to find out!

First mountain viewpoint

Driving to the trailhead proved to be a bit of an adventure, due to a recent road wash-out.  But luckily Young drives a sturdy truck which traversed the damaged road no problem.  We found cloudy skies and cool temperatures at the base of Ape Canyon.  Although there were zero mountain views, after weeks of enduring unseasonably hot weather today's chilly temps were just fine with us.

Trailside wildflowers

To start out, the Ape Canyon trail followed a cliff overlooking a huge lahar.  This barren floodplain was created from a flow of mud and rock down the Muddy River, unleashed during the 1980 eruption.  However the adjacent forest, which we were now hiking through, was somehow spared from the eruption's damage.  The first mile and half wound through second-growth forest, logged many years ago.  Beyond this point, we entered an area of untouched old-growth woods.  Young and I gaped at the huge fir and cedar trees lining our path.  The trail climbed steadily uphill, gaining 2500 feet over the course of 5 miles.

Approaching the Loowit trail junction

The only drawback to hiking this trail is that it's shared with mountain bikers.  Although all the bikers I've encountered here have always been polite, the threat of encountering one speeding downhill keeps me on edge.  Today just a mile up the trail my fears were realized when we had a near run-in with a downhill bike rider.   A young man unexpectedly whipped around a corner and nearly hit us.  Young and I scrambled off the trail in record time.  (I may have also screamed.)  The biker slammed on his brakes and immediately apologized.  He said since he hadn't seen any hikers thus far that day, he wasn't being very diligent in looking out for them.  The guy was so nice about the incident, we told him "no harm, no foul" before parting ways.

Desolate, but beautiful

As the morning wore on, the clouds surrounding MSH started to lift.  When Young and I reached the first viewpoint, about 3.5 miles up, we could now see the mountain's base.  That was encouraging!

Nice flower patch near a spring

About 4 miles along the Ape Canyon trail, the forest receded and we entered the desolate blast zone.  Climbing towards the Loowit Trail intersection, the green Ape Canyon narrowed down into a slot chasm.  A few wildflowers bloomed along the trail, but not in huge numbers.

Made it to the Windy - Loowit junction

After a long climb, the sign marking the Loowit Trail junction was a welcome sight.  From here, Young and I then headed eastward, now following the Loowit Trail, hoping we'd spot some wildflowers soon.

Reading the trail signs

About 3/4 mile from the Loowit - Ape Canyon junction, my friend and I passed a wet area where a small spring bubbled out of the earth.  On the side of a small rise was a nice patch of lupine and orange Indian paintbrush.  The best display of wildflowers thus far, I put my camera to work. 

MSH was starting to emerge

Just beyond the colorful wildflower patch, Young and I stopped at an overlook for lunch.  On a clear day, one can see Mt. Hood and Adams from atop this rocky cliff.  But today clouds obscured most of the views.  No matter, we were hungry and were happy for the nice rest area.  However, the wind began to blow and chilled us so much that Young and I donned our jackets and hoods to stay warm.  After hiking in heat most of the summer thus far, it felt strange to be cold again.

Purple wildflowers lined the trail

Bellies now satisfied, we continued our journey eastward in search of the wildflower bloom.  However, traveling from the spring area we came upon the Plains of Abraham proper and there were hardly any flowers, just a desolate stretch of gray pumice.  It appeared we were too late.  I recognized numerous dried-up penstemon blooms spread out along the landscape.  The unseasonably early hot weather appeared to have already baked most of the wildflowers.

We spotted a mama grouse

Although disappointed to miss the peak bloom, Young and I continued on towards the junction of the Loowit and Abraham Trails.  Happily, there was a bit of lupine still flowering, so I wasn't totally skunked in the wildflower department.  And although the wind kept things chilly, the clouds were lifting and we could now see quite a bit of Mt. St. Helens.

Back through the flower garden

Young and I made it to the Loowit-Abraham junction.  We took a few pictures of the stark landscape, and marveled at the far-reaching views.  But because it was still quite cold, we didn't linger long.  After about five minutes of gawking my friend and I turned around to retrace our steps back to Ape Canyon.

Best wildflower patch of the hike

Sometimes one sees mountain goats on the hills adjacent to the Loowit Trail.  I'd carried my zoom lens in hopes of getting some photos of these majestic creatures.  But I was skunked here too.  The only wildlife sighting we had for the day was a mama grouse as we were coming back through the spring area.  The grouse had a chick hiding in a nearby bush, and she kept distracting us by walking down the trail, hoping to lead us away from her young one.  I never managed to get a photo of the baby, but I did get a few great images of its mother.

Another photo of the flower patch - just because!

About the time Young and I walked back through the large wildflower patch, the mountain had emerged from the morning's clouds and was in full view.  Perfect timing because now I could get flower photos with MSH in the background.  Which is exactly what I did.  Then we headed towards the Loowit Junction, and back down Ape Canyon.

Mt Adams view at the upper start of Ape Canyon

Our day ended with a happy surprise when Young and I ran into old hiking friends John and Dorene as we descended the Ape Canyon trail.  We hiked together for the final two miles and had a great time catching up.  Our total distance came to 13 miles, so I was thankful for the engrossing conversations to distract me from my tired legs and feet.

Ran into some old hiking friends!

In case you were wondering why a canyon in SW Washington has such an unlikely name, here is the reason:  In the summer of 1924, a group of gold prospectors in the area claimed that 7 foot tall ape-like creatures attacked them with boulders.  According to the tale, the miners came across the animals in the forest and a man in their group shot one of the animals three times.  The wounded ape-like creature toppled off a cliff into an inaccessible canyon.  Later, the "ape-men" returned to the prospector's cabin, bombarded it with stones, and left gigantic footprints in the dust.  The story created a local sensation.  Forest Service rangers investigated the men's claims, but found nothing to substantiate their story.  Despite zero evidence, the legend persisted and continued to spread in later years. 

Who knows?  Maybe Sasquatch does live in the woods nearby.  Anyway, I think it's kind of a fun tale. 

The Marvelous McNeil Point

One of my top summer trails, I've been hauling myself up to Mt Hood's McNeil Point for many years.  Introduced to me by one of my hiking friends, its stunning wildflower meadows and mountain views kept me coming back each summer.  Multiple notes in an old hiking book show visits dating back to 2000, and nearly every year in the decade and half since then.  However sometime around 2020, thanks to social media, this lovely slice of paradise was "found."  The trail and parking area became so crowded, I decided to forego my annual trek for awhile. 

But last year I started missing McNeil's summer flower show.  It was time to go back!  Trying to avoid the crowds, I hiked there via lower elevation, longer trail.  It was such a slog, this year I decided to suck it up and return to the usual route.

A new sign!

I recruited my friend Catherine to join me for my McNeil Point revisit.  Since she's a teacher and has summers off, we decided upon a late July weekday in hopes of encountering less people.  That, coupled with a fairly early start, ensured us a spot at the small trailhead parking area.

Heading up the ridge

It was a beautiful day!  The sun was out, the temps moderate, and the bugs few and far between.  Catherine and I headed up the first steep climb before junctioning with the Timberline Trail.  We then ascended up this trail, taking in occasional mountain views, wildflowers, and butterflies before coming to a sign pointing the way towards McNeil Point.  I was surprised to see the old, weather-beaten wooden sign that had been here for years replaced with a brand-new version.  To memorialize the occasion, I had Catherine pose beside it for a few pics.

Avalanche lily

After the obligatory sign photos, we began climbing again, this time following the spine of a rocky ridge.  Ducking in and out of scrubby fir forests Catherine and I finally came to a clearing with amazing views of Mt Hood and the adjacent Cascade peaks.

Orange Indian paintbrush highlight this colorful meadow

Past an old trail junction, we contoured along a slope into an alpine wonderland.  Wildflowers bloomed in the meadows here - orange Indian paintbrush, purple penstemon, pale purple asters, white avalanche lilies - and many others.  A few patches of snow lingered nearby.  Our trail even crossed a small snowfield, a bit slippery but doable.

Our goal is in sight

The alpine meadows directly below McNeil Point erupt into a kaleidoscope of colorful wildflowers in July.  Some years are better than others - rainfall, heat, and amount of winter snow all affect the vibrancy and timing of the bloom.  Back in 2013 I witnessed the absolute best wildflower show I've ever seen on this trail.  The pink heather and magenta Indian paintbrush was so prolific - the entire area was absolutely stunning!  (I blogged about it in this post.)  Since that year I've never seen it as good.

We came upon this most excellent meadow

I thought maybe we'd be too late to catch peak bloom.  After several years of either just missing it, or having a less-than-stellar wildflower show, I'd set the bar low.  So imagine my surprise and delight when I came around a bend in the trail to an entire meadow filled with pink heather and magenta Indian paintbrush, all in full, colorful bloom.

Heather and magenta paintbrush as far as the eye could see

As you can imagine, forward progress ground to a screeching halt, as cameras came out and photos were taken.  Many, many, photos!

Absolutely gorgeous!

The wildflower bloom was so amazing it nearly rivaled the fantastic 2013 show.  It certainly was the best I'd seen up here since.

A distant Mt. Adams anchors the skyline

Catherine and I lingered in this wonderful meadow for quite a long time.  (We probably would've gotten going sooner if not for me and my "just one more photo" mentality.)  But finally I decided I had enough images, and we still had a bit of distance and climbing to reach our final destination on McNeil Point.  Onward!  

Lots of wildflowers in this meadow!

The wildflower show wasn't over yet.  We passed by an area of lupine so lush and purple, we nick-named it "lupine alley."  And once upon McNeil Point's plateau, I ran into more flower fields, each as colorful as the next (but not quite as good as that heather/paintbrush meadow below.)

Catherine playing in the snow

Seeing a large snowfield above the trail, Catherine couldn't resist hiking up to it and sliding around.  

Poor McNeil Point stone shelter has seen better days

Despite all our dilly-dallying we did finally reach McNeil Point proper, defined by its old stone shelter.  Built in the 1930's by the Civilian Conservation Corp, the poor structure was looking pretty dilapidated.  A blue tarp covered the roof, anchored by rocks.  With its stability in question, I chose not to go inside.

Flower field and Mt. Hood view

Usually the meadows directly above this stone shelter host a wide variety of wildflowers.  Most noteable are the Western Pasque flower seed-heads, whose wild-haired poofs look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book.  (I've affectionately nick-named them "Hippy on a stick.")  This year's meadow show wasn't nearly as good as in years past.  I really haven't seen a spectacular bloom here since that wonderful day in 2013.  Since 2020, this area has been horribly overused and I suspect the wildflowers have suffered as a result (people - this is why you should stay on the trail!)

We dubbed this spot "lupine alley"

Catherine and I found an unused campsite near the shelter and perched on the rocks for lunch with a view.  Our vantage high above the Sandy River gave us panoramic vistas of the terrain below as well as Mt. Hood's craggy west face with her shrinking glaciers.

So lovely!

Catherine and I returned the way we came, retracing our steps across the McNeil plateau, down through lupine alley, and once again past the wonderful heather and paintbrush meadow.  More photos may have been taken here!

A plethora of paintbrush

From high on the ridge, we spotted the nearby Cascade peaks of Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. St. Helens.  In addition, smoke from a large wildfire burning in the Columbia River Gorge could be seen.  This one a human-caused wildfire, it's always sad to see more of the forest burning.

Beautiful mountain stream

On the way down, Catherine and I stopped by a lovely mountain stream, fed by snowmelt high on the mountain.  It wound through a patch of green vegetation, highlighted by bright spots of wildflowers, most notably purple lupine.

And there were butterflies!

The warm afternoon temps had brought out the butterflies and as we trekked downhill, I tried to capture a few as they settled onto the wildflowers.  I didn't have the best luck - usually as soon as I pointed my camera on these winged beauties, they nearly always flew away.

Two butterflies caught in a not-so-private moment

However, I was fortunate enough to capture two butterflies busy in a (ahem!) not-so-private moment.  I think they were too busy with each other to notice my camera.

Enjoying the views

It was so good to be back at McNeil Point again for the summer wildflowers.  And although we saw a few hikers, the meadows and shelter area weren't very busy at all.  My overcrowding fears didn't materialize.  Sometime you just have to say "what the heck" and go anyway.  I've found I'm always glad that I did!

Winged Wonders

It's been a good summer for butterflies.  Every year I catch a few on camera, flitting amongst the wildflowers.  But this summer season it seemed these winged wonders were everywhere - on every trail, in every wildflower patch.

Checkerspot butterfly

I'm no scientist, but I suspect our unusually hot and dry early summer weather might of had something to do with this year's butterfly population explosion.

Possible Summer Azure butterfly

My first encounter with butterfly-palooza came on a hike in early July.  We'd suffered through a heat wave the entire first week of the month.  Since I don't do well in hot weather, my hiking activities came to a screeching halt.  But after cowering indoors for over a week, I could stand it no longer.  When the temps finally dropped down to 90 degrees, I decided to hike anyway.  So I decided to do a quick trip up nearby Hardy Ridge.  The trail was mostly shaded and I remembered it had a pretty good wildflower bloom in July.

A Fritillary

Well.....Hardy Ridge usually had a good wildflower bloom.  While toiling up its trail I discovered, much to my dismay, that the recent hot weather had dried up most of the flowers.  There were still a few hardy blossoms about, but not the showy wildflowers in large quantities like I'd hoped.

Another Fritillary

However, as the temperatures rose I discovered another source of beauty - butterflies.  Dozens and dozens of butterflies began flitting about the flowers that were still blooming.

Parnassius clodius

Butterflies are tricky subjects.  About the time you point the camera and get things in focus, they always take off.  It's like the butterflies have sixth sense.  However, I've learned that when photographing butterflies, a zoom lens is your friend.  The more distance you can put between yourself and these winged beauties, the better your chances of not disturbing them.  Like any wildlife, if your subject isn't distracted by your presence, you stand a better chance of capturing a good image. 

A very beautiful butterfly!

I put this advice to work that afternoon on Hardy Ridge.  And I was able to capture a bunch of great images of a wide varieties of butterflies.  Large and small, colorful or not (but mostly the colorful types!) I was extremely happy with my photos that day.  Although the hike was hot, dusty, and not a lot of fun, seeing these lovely winged insects at work provided a huge bright spot that cancelled out some of the difficulties.

Cabbage butterfly

Since I'm no butterfly expert, I have to thank a couple of my Facebook friends for providing identifications for the butterfly images I captured.  

Swallowtail butterfly

The very next day, I went on another hike with my friends Debbie and Barry.  They wanted to check out Lookout Mountain, on the east side of Mt. Hood.  They'd heard it was a good place to see butterflies.  Fresh off my Hardy Ridge experience, I was totally ready for more.

Another checkerspot

And it was another successful day.  First thing I spotted a lovely swallowtail butterfly resting on some penstemon blooms right at the trailhead!

Not sure what this gray one is

And the day just got better.  I got more butterfly photos along the trail.  When we reached Lookout Mountain's summit, there were a couple hundred brightly-colored winged beauties floating between the wildflowers.  The only problem?  None of them landed for very long, if at all.  So even though there were lots of butterflies, I didn't get many photos from the place of highest concentration.

Fritillary 

However on our return trip, my friends and I had stopped in the woods for a quick break.  A lovely blue butterfly began hovering around me.  Then it landed on one of my hands.  The butterfly sat there on my hand for several minutes.  I couldn't believe it!  Although I wanted to take a photo, there was no way I could hold my camera one-handed.  Luckily, Debbie was able to snap several pics.  I've heard an old wives tale that if a butterfly lands on you you'll have good luck.  I certainly hope that's true!

This one landed on my hand and wouldn't leave!

Hope you've enjoyed this collection of butterfly images from early summer.  Since these lovely winged insects don't have a long lifespan, I'm glad I was able to capture some photographs on these hikes.  There's nothing like walking down a trail having butterflies soaring around you.  It really lifts ones spirits - and makes hiking in hot weather much more tolerable.

Rhodie Season

Prepare yourself - I'm flooding this post with lots of pink!

Drippy rhododendron blooms

In early summer, the forests surrounding Oregon's northern Cascades erupt into a riot of pink flowers.  Wild rhododendrons thrive in these cool, mossy environments and it's always a treat to witness their blooms.  Affectionately nicknamed "rhodies" by the locals, these bright wildflowers almost seem out of place amongst the green vegetation. 

Sandy River

Every June I try to get in a hike somewhere rhodies are blooming.  One favorite rhodie-rich trek is the trail to Ramona Falls. 

Penstemon was blooming too

It had been several years since I'd visited this trail, so I planned a Monday morning in mid-June for my return trip.  My chosen day dawned with heavy clouds that threatened rain.  Although this might deter some hikers, for me I welcomed the lack of harsh sunlight.  As a photographer I know cloudy days not only produce even lighting, they can also make colors pop!

Raindrop-spangled flowers

Since I live in the Pacific NW, I'm quite used to hiking in the rain.  After checking the forecast, which predicted a good chance of precip, I prepared by bringing rain jacket, backpack cover, and a waterproof cover for my camera bag.  

Scary Sandy River crossing

The sky was lightly drizzling when I pulled into the trailhead parking area.  After already enduring several days of hot, dry weather this spring, it was most welcome.

The show began on the river's opposite bank

The trail started out meandering through a thick, mossy forest.  Rhodies grew profusely here, and it didn't take long for me to spot those familiar pink blooms.  Forward progress was delayed for bit as my camera came out again and again.

The trail was lined with pink!

The Ramona Falls trail is a relatively easy trek except for one thing - after about a mile, hikers must cross the raging Sandy River.  The Forest Service used to provide a seasonal bridge for hikers, but many years ago a freak flood wiped it out.  Sadly a hiker on the bridge at the time lost her life.  The bridge was never replaced, so now hikers wishing to reach Ramona Falls are forced to cross the river by whatever means they can.  Usually there is a log spanning the churning water that hikers can balance upon (or butt-slide if you're chicken like me) to get across.

Rhodies along the PCT

I was quite apprehensive about this river crossing.  Coming upon the mighty Sandy, I spotted the said log, suspended high above the river.  The water was churning mightily, making crossing this stream all the more intimidating.  There was no way I was gonna try to walk atop a log that was potentially wet and slippery.  So after ponding my options for a few minutes, I climbed atop and butt-slid across.  It wasn't pretty but I managed to get safely to the other side.

Peak bloom!

It's always a relief to get a river crossing done!  With that behind me for the meantime, I shifted my attention to the wildflowers.  Several patches of bright purple penstemon were blooming above the river bank, and their raindrop-spangled flowers were most photogenic.

Lotsa pink

A short path meandered through sandy soil before intersecting with the Pacific Crest and Ramona Falls Trails.  I took the PCT leg and immediately entered a rhododendron wonderland.

Peek-a-boo river views

This two mile stretch of the PCT was lined with rhododendron bushes, all in spectacular bloom.  And lucky for me, the rhodies were at peak!  The thick forest of mossy fir trees and misty weather added to the photo drama.  Every once and awhile the trees would part, giving glimpses of the Sandy River's barren, debris-lined channel.

Ramona Falls

It took a long time for me to cover the two miles between the river crossing and Ramona Falls.  The rhodie blooms were so impressive!  Their bright pinks practically glowed in the cloudy, wet weather.  Luckily, thus far the misty conditions were deterring most hikers, and I had the place nearly to myself.

 

Another view of the falls

Finally, the trail forked once again and a side path led me to magnificent Ramona Falls.  The waters of this 120-foot cascade stair-stepped down a rocky drop, looking much like a bridal train.  Again the cloudy, dark weather produced perfect light to photograph this beauty.  Usually a very busy area, I only encountered two groups the entire half hour I lingered here.

Ramona Creek Trail was like a fairyland

This hike offers a loop option, and I love taking a new trail on the return trip!  After basking in the glorious views of Ramona Falls, I packed up and ventured down the Ramona Creek Trail.  The forest here was a delight.  Full of all things green, it was a wonderland of ferns and moss.  Cute little Ramona Creek burbled through the middle of its mossy forest.

And more rhodies!

And of course there were more rhodies!  I discovered some of the biggest and brightest blooms along this trail.

Lovely Ramona Creek

After lightly misting most of the morning, it was here the sky decided to open up the faucets a bit more.  Although I tried to keep my camera in its bag, there were so many beautiful blooms I kept pulling it out again and again.  Soon not only did my camera get wet, so did the inside of its bag.  Although I tried to wipe it off every time before stowing, I couldn't get every drop.  After many repetitions residual dampness had begun to accumulate.  With so many beautiful rhodies yet to photograph I hated to stop.  However, although my camera was weather-sealed and could handle a small amount of moisture, I didn't want to risk damaging a very expensive device.  It pained me, but I finally had to pack it away for good.  

Droopy blooms

All day long I was dreading the recrossing of the Sandy River.  The angle the log was sitting would require an uphill butt-slide to get back across, and I wasn't thrilled about that at all.  However, upon reaching the river I observed a young couple beginning to cross.  Adjacent to the high log was a lower log at nearly water level that extended about halfway into the stream.  Both people shimmied across this lower log to its end.  There was a rock sticking into the flow on the other side, and the distance between the rock and log was short enough to jump across, which is what both people did.  That option looked much easier.  So I followed the same path that the young couple had taken.  And it was a piece of cake compared to sliding over a high log.  Now why hadn't I noticed this the first time?

  

Huge pink bush

No matter I was safely across the river once again.  I climbed up the opposite bank to finish the last mile.  Back through the rhodie bushes I traveled, resisting the urge to pull out my camera for yet more photos.  (I'd already captured quite enough for one day!)

Rainy, but wonderful

Oh what a glorious meander through rhododendron wonderland!  I came away with so many good images, it was hard to decide which ones to edit and post on social media.  I hope you've enjoyed my latest photo journey and didn't mind all the pink!