Hike with a Habitat Wildlife Biologist

View of the Sandy River from the trail at Oxbow Regional Park.

10 Essentials

When you are out hiking, it is often recommended that you bring along “the 10 essentials:” navigation, sunscreen, knife, first aid, headlamp, fire starter, shelter, extra clothes, extra food, and extra water. These items are necessary for your survival, especially when things don’t go according to plan. 

Wild animals also have “essentials”—things they need to survive. However, unlike humans, they can’t carry these in a pack but must find what they need in their environment. In a healthy, unaltered ecosystem, this can be a challenge. In a heavily impacted ecosystem, it can become impossible. 

Meet Bill

As a habitat wildlife biologist for over 40 years, Bill Wieler’s CV is jam-packed with conservation, education, and restoration work. Bill has spent his entire career studying how to best protect wildlife and ensure their essential needs are met; as well as, worked on countless restoration and enhancement projects to that end. 

So when I met up with Bill at the Alder Group Picnic area at Oxbow Regional Park near Gresham, Oregon to begin our hike, I was thrilled to learn more, not just about wild animals, but the places they live and how we can do our part to protect them. 

Bill Wieler standing next to a Pacific yew.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Alder Group Picnic Area
  • Distance: 2+ miles 
  • Elevation Gain: approximately 400 ft
  • Details: It costs $5 for parking. There are about 12 miles of hiking trails to explore. There are many different trail entry points to choose from. 

Yew Should Consider the Yew

Starting down the trail, one of the first things Bill pointed out was a Pacific yew tree. I love Pacific yew trees. As slow-growing conifers, they are often hidden among taller, more conspicuous trees. I often find them dripping with layers of moss and lichen, almost entirely concealing their noteworthy beautiful red bark. 

“It used to be considered a weed tree with no timber value,” said Bill, referring to the yew. He explained, only later, did scientists discover that its bark could be used to produce a cancer-fighting drug called taxol. “I always mention yew because it shows we really should be taking care of everything because we don’t know what animals and plants can provide.” 

Pacific yew along the trail.

Wildlife is Essential 

Wildlife is essential—it provides a host of benefits. Not every species will provide a cancer-fighting chemical like the Pacific yew, but ecosystems that contain a lot of different species have the potential to provide a myriad of benefits. 

According to Bill, “we depend upon natural ecosystems for many of our needs.”  “Food, fuel, and fiber” are perhaps the first of these benefits that come to mind. However, there are many less obvious benefits, including clean air and water, decomposition of wastes, and flood protection. This is not to mention the many social and emotional benefits biodiverse ecosystems offer. As Bill puts it, “they give us a complete, more healthy world. They enhance our sense of wonder and place.” 

Edible red huckleberries were abundant along the trail.

Moving Up

Unfortunately, most species are lost quietly without anyone noticing—species are lost before we even have a chance to appreciate their value. Even well-known species have faced threats because we have undervalued them.  For example, during the 1900s wolves were nearly eradicated from the lower 48 states in the U.S. because they were seen as dangerous to livestock operations.

Bill is optimistic though. He told me how he often polls people regarding their feelings on various wildlife species. And wolves, among other once-hated-species, have been moving up the list. As scientists have come to recognize the role of top predators in keeping other populations in check—what Bill referred to as “trickle-down ecology”—public acceptance of wolves has improved. For some reason, Bill hasn’t seen a large shift in public opinion when it comes to mosquitos and ticks though. 

Forest Dynamics

As we hiked deeper into the Douglas-fir/Hemlock forest, our conversation shifted from individual species of trees to consider forests. Forests are more than a collection of trees. Rather, healthy forests are dynamic ecosystems that operate as a unit. In fact, many of the wildlife benefits discussed earlier are really a function of a biodiverse ecosystem and not individual species.

According to Bill, there are six structures of a healthy forest ecosystem: 1) big trees, 2) snags, 3) logs, 4) soil, 5) open spaces, and 6) canopy layers. All of these components work together to keep the ecosystem functioning. 

While big trees provide excellent habitat for some species, like bats; when trees fall in the forest, it opens up space for new species and canopy layers to grow. These new species provide new resources and increased ecosystem resiliency. In addition, the down-wood and standing dead trees called snags, that remain following a blowdown, provide habitat for a host of insects and bacteria.  In fact, dead trees can host far more species than living trees, according to Bill. Then, over time the woody material decomposes, which builds the soil, providing nutrients for the next generation of forest plants. 

Can you find the six structures of a healthy forest in this picture?

Observations of a Forest

Bill pointed out that all of the six structures are observable in the forest at Oxbow Regional Park. The park even has some old-growth forest within its boundaries. In contrast, a forest that has been managed for timber production is less likely to contain all of these structures and/or in less abundance. For example, 8-10 snags per acre are typical of a healthy forest, while forestry laws only require leaving behind 2 per acre following a clearcut. 

So next time you visit a forest, go ahead—count up the snags; note the various stages of log decomposition; observe how light filters through the canopy layers down to the forest floor; wrap your arms around a big tree. Though much of the changes that occur in a forest are slow, you can still appreciate the dynamics of the forest if you take the time to pay attention. 

A big Douglas-fir seen along the trail.

Fish Need Forests

As Bill and I followed the trail in a southwesterly direction, we found ourselves hiking just above the banks of the meandering course of the Sandy River. The Sandy River is about a 56 miles long tributary to the Columbia River and, apart from the Columbia, has the highest productivity of salmonid species in Oregon. Efforts to enhance the Sandy River to ensure it can continue to support salmonid populations are a big part of Bill’s current and past work. 

However, while discussing salmon with Bill, he directed my attention back toward the forest. He pointed out a large down tree near the trail. You see, forests are not only important to terrestrial wildlife.  Fish need forests too. 

Down-tree that Bill pointed out during our hike.

Bill explained, trees in streams and rivers, especially those with roots, provide a place for fish to hide from predators. They also disrupt the flow of water—creating a more dynamic stream channel with resting pools, gravel for fish to spawn in, and habitat for invertebrates.

Historically, the Sandy River had many logjams, as logs naturally recruit in stream beds over time. However, much of the logs in the Sandy River were removed by the Army Corps in the 60s as part of flood control efforts. Since then, returning logjams to the Sandy River has become an important part of stream enhancement work today. 

The Log Father

They call me the “log father,” Bill said—a nickname he acquired due to his persistent hunt for large trees needed for stream restoration. However, creating a log jam is not as simple as finding dislodged trees and dumping them in the river.  It takes a lot of planning, engineering, and equipment to get large logs in place and secure them. It is expensive work too! According to Bill, logjams are like icebergs— they are mostly underground. Human-constructed logjams must be secured in the ground in order to function properly, as well as to prevent them from being washed away in a big storm.

Later, after Bill and I parted ways, I spent some time walking the trails along the Sandy River looking for logjams. I was able to spot the top of several just at the water’s surface.

Logjams in the Sandy River.

Dismal to Happy 

After some time, Bill and I reached a small bridge that went over a very small stream.  This creek used to be named “Dismal Creek,” Bill told me, but now it is called “Happy Creek.” Why? Easy! We were standing next to an old floodplain of the Sandy River that had become disconnected during the age of dams, log removal, and channelization of rivers.

Happy Creek was an attempt to bring water back into the river system by restoring one of its side channels. In order to achieve this goal, a culvert was added on the opposite side of the road to collect runoff and divert it to the floodplain—turning dismal creek into a happy water-filled channel, with even happier consequences. 

What are those happy consequences? Well for starters, floodplains make excellent feeding grounds for fish; they also are a great place for fish to escape turbulent flows and find rest.  In addition, floodplains help reduce river pollution by collecting sediments and removing nutrients. Of course, one of the big reasons floodplains are making a comeback is because they reduce flooding and prevent erosion by dispersing flood energy away from areas we want to protect, like homes and businesses. 

Happy Creek.

How to Restore

Bill and I hiked down to the floodplain to observe it more closely. Seven years ago, Bill was the lead on the “Happy Creek Project,” so he was anxious to see how it was doing. When we got down there, he was thrilled to see the channel they had created had water in it. Though there was no way to know if the Sandy River or Happy Creek was the source of water, he was thrilled to see it was still wet this late in the year. 

The floodplain channel still filled with water in June.

Restoration is still fairly “new science.” Bill discussed that even during the initial phases of the Happy Creek Project, plans were easily dismantled as the team responded to nature. For example, at one point during the project, they found Pacific Lamprey in the restoration site. This was exciting news! But it also required the team to adapt their plans in order to protect the fish.

Failure is part of the gig when it comes to restoration work, but along with it further understanding. “I have learned a lot from each project,” Bill told me. Observing and continuing to monitor projects will only reveal more. Bill said that he hoped to see gravel one day get washed into the floodplain here, creating spawning habitat. Will it? Only time will tell.

Looking Out for Fish

Even though restoration results vary widely, scientists do know a lot about what good fish habitat looks like.  We know what fish need. So if you are visiting a river or stream, Bill suggests looking for several features in order to assess its habitat quality for fish. First, he suggests checking the water temperature. Many fish species in the Pacific Northwest require really cold water to survive and reproduce. If the temperature feels good to you, it is probably too warm for the fish. Second, check the turbidity, or how difficult it is to see the stream bottom. Cloudy water is often the result of sediment pollution and can clog gills or smother fish eggs. Third, look for a variety of substrates in the water. Are there logs and boulders for insects to live on? Is there gravel for spawning? Finally, check for man-made barriers, like culverts that may make travel impossible for migratory fish. 

Of course, if you find any of these features missing, you can also do something about it! For instance, joining your local watershed council is a great way to be involved and learn about restoration work you can participate in locally.

Living with Wildlife 

About halfway through our hike, we looped back up to the road and crossed it to join a trail on the other side.  Just before we made the loop, I asked Bill about what he felt were the important issues or topics in wildlife today. His answer really came down to one major theme—education. Most people still really don’t understand the habits of wildlife. We don’t know how to live with wildlife. 

He explained—when it comes to wolves, for example, we have removed them from the endangered species list because their numbers are up. Yet, their distribution is very limited with packs only established in few places. According to Bill, for animals that have this sort of clumped distribution, delisting just doesn’t make sense

Another example Bill offered was with coyotes. Some people really don’t like coyotes and will kill them on sight. Never mind that coyotes are a minor threat compared to other species, but killing them is counterproductive. As Bill described it, coyotes have an innate reproductive trait that causes them to increase their litter size—from 2-3 up to as many as eight pups—when their numbers are threatened.

Then there is the deer problem. Most people don’t worry about deer populations, and may even feed deer—treating them like wild pets—attracting them into suburban and urban areas. However, according to Bill, deer are the most dangerous wildlife species of all, with more people becoming injured or even dying from deer-related automobile accidents. 

Risk Perception

Perhaps more than any other species, Mountain Lion threat is most misunderstood. Bill told me about a study he was involved in called CAT: scientists, with the assistance of local students radio-collared 25 mountain lions in order to see how much they were interacting with human populations. They found that mountain lions stayed away from people. The only time a mountain lion was tracked near humans during the study was in a case where a farmer was attracting deer, their primary food source.

Yet, people fear cougars because of a few newsworthy incidents. According to Bill, the result of these reports, and associated fears, means more taxpayer dollars being diverted toward tracking down and killing cougars, often without good reason.

If you are personally afraid of mountain lion encounters, Bill recommends avoiding dusk and dawn visits to areas where cougars have been sighted, especially if you plan to bike or run.

Overall, there are better ways to reduce cougar associated risk that doesn’t involve killing the animal.

A Changing Climate

Speaking of changing public perception of risk, climate change remains a risk worth paying attention to throughout the world, including in the Sandy River Watershed.

As Bill and I trekked through some heavy mud on the trail back to where we parked, he made a point to discuss his concerns with climate change. Bill explained—when it comes to climate change we know very little about how it will impact most wildlife species. We know fish will be profoundly impacted, for example, but the extent of the impact is still tenuous.

But, Bill emphasized, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do anything about it. In fact, the Sandy River is a cold water refuge for fish traveling in the Columbia River, making it a priority area to protect from climate change.

Bill’s favorite climate change solution is trees. He said that any chance he gets to talk to a climate scientist he asks them about planting trees, and he always gets a positive response.

Thus, under Bill’s direction, about 1.5 million trees and shrub species have been planted in the Sandy River Delta, with future plans to plant more in surrounding areas. Bill focused on using native trees in the plantings, including regionally native trees, such as madrone, oak, and ponderosa pine, chosen as a way to prepare for Oregon’s climate in the coming decades.

Is it just me, or am I sensing a theme?  Trees are not only essential for both terrestrial and aquatic habitat needs right now, but their importance extends much further—as they play a role in improving Earth’s climate future. 

A patch of old growth found along the trail.

Appreciating Wildlife

During the last stretch of the hike, I asked Bill one final question, how can we be more like him? How can someone start thinking and behaving more like a wildlife habitat biologist? Bill had a lot of great answers (some of which I mentioned in earlier sections). However, one idea that stood out as significant was the need to spend quality time appreciating nature. 

Bill emphasized the need to spend time in stillness and silence. He talked about a youth education program he was involved in years ago. One of the activities was a 15-minute silence-solitude station. He talked about an eight-year-old who was determined to remain still during the activity—she didn’t move even when it was clear something was creeping up behind her. Eventually, she was face to face with a doe. “That kind of experience stays with you forever,” Bill emphasized. “One-on-one experiences with nature are invaluable.” 

I tend to agree.

Though I draw the line with mosquitoes. Sorry, Bill! I just can’t!  

Bill Weiler worked for 20 years for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife. He now works full time with the Sandy River Watershed Council and as a wildlife habitat consultant.  He is also the author of the book, “Don’t Run From Bears: Living With Wildlife in the Columbia River Gorge.”

Hike with a Geophysicist

Robert (Bob) Lillie at the summit of Marys Peak

Have you ever wanted to travel back in time to see what the Earth was like thousands or millions of years ago? Well, then this post is for you!

A hike on Marys Peak is like a window into Oregon’s geological past. Marys Peak’s rocks, viewpoints, and vegetation, all paint a picture of large-scale changes that occurred in Oregon millions of years ago, and continue to shape the landscape today.

Hiking with Robert (Bob) Lillie—a geophysicist with a knack for interpreting the Oregon landscape—is like having a tour guide along for the journey.

Armed with a simple model of Marys Peak, rock samples, and two books on Oregon Geology authored by Bob, he met me at the Day Use Area on Marys Peak to begin our hike.

View of Marys Peak from Beazell Memorial Forest’s south meadow.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Summit Trailhead (Marys Peak Day Use Area)
  • Distance: 3.5+ miles (summit loop trail + meadowedge loop trail)
  • Elevation Gain: approx 700 feet
  • Notes: Northwest Forest Pass is required to park at the Marys Peak Day Use Area where you will find ample parking and pit toilets. There are many additional hiking options on Marys Peak of various length and difficulty.

Marys Peak Rocks

Holding up a labeled bicycle helmet as a model, Bob explained that Marys Peak was made up of several layers of different types of rock, each with unique properties. At the base was black volcanic rock called basalt, followed by thick layers of light colored sandstone and dark shale, and at the top an intrusive rock known as gabbro. This hard gabbro layer, Bob pointed out, is where we would be hiking today.

Bob’s bicycle helmet model of Marys Peak.

Cool Rocks

You may recall from middle school science, that igneous rocks form when lava or magma cools and solidifies.  However, due to differences in formation and chemistry, not all igneous rocks turn out the same. Bob pulled out some rock samples- gabbro and basalt- and began to explain their differences.

Dark-colored basalt is a low-silica igneous rock that forms from thin, fast-flowing lava (think Hawaiian volcanoes) that cools and hardens quickly— within a few hours to days. Gabbro is also dark-colored with the same low-silica chemical composition as basalt, but forms from magma that cools very slowly below ground, taking 10s to 1000s of years to cool and harden.

The long cooling time allows large crystals to form in gabbro rock. On the other hand, basalt has very fine crystals, making it a bit dull looking and less valuable. Thus, gabbro is used in masonry in Oregon, often as a granite alternative, while basalt is used to gravel roadways.

Image Credit: Lillie, Robert. “Oregon’s Island in the Sky: Geology Road Guide to Marys Peak.” Wells Creek Publishers, 2017.

Putting the rock samples away, Bob and I followed the gravel road part of the summit loop trail upward from the parking lot. Eventually, we reached some gabbro outcroppings, with large crystals glimmering in the sunshine. 

Heading up the summit trail to the first set of gabbro outcroppings

Weathering Time 

Remember, gabbro forms below ground. According to Bob, two miles of sedimentary layers once covered the now exposed gabbro rock. Of course, that was millions of years ago. So what happened? Where did the sedimentary layers go?

The answer lies in one of the most underappreciated geological processes— weathering an erosion. Weathering is the breakdown of rock by contact with the atmosphere, hydrosphere, and biosphere. Basically, exposed rocks get worn down over time with a little help from the environment.  This weathered material can then be eroded (moved away by wind and water), uncovering more rock that lies below. Sedimentary rock weathers and erodes easily, while igneous rock such as gabbro is much harder. 

 “Look up,” Bob exclaimed, “imagine two miles of sedimentary rock pushing down from above you.” 

The slow action of weathering and erosion removed it all! What a load off!

Mini-Yosemite 

As we hiked along the gabbro rock gardens, Bob pointed to some rounded outcroppings of gabbro rock that reminded me of pillow basalt— a form of basalt that results from cooling in water. Though pillow basalt can be viewed on the road up to Marys Peak, it made no sense that we would find it here in the gabbro layer. Something else was going on! Bob explained that the answer lies in a process known as spheroidal exfoliation.

With the slow removal of the weight of two miles of sedimentary rock layers, the gabbro sill would have fractured and broke into cubed or rectangular blocks. Then, spheroidal weathering would have taken over—discriminately breaking down the gabbro blocks; wearing down corners more than edges, and edges more than faces; and eventually forming rounded spheres surrounded by concentric “shells” flaking off.  Once exposed, these layers may erode and “peel” away layer by layer—much like peeling away the layers of an onion.

Spheroidal exfoliation on a gabbro outcropping

Bob compared the rounded rocks on Marys Peak to the huge granite domes (such as Half-Dome) you can see in Yosemite National Park. The same basic mechanisms of exfoliation apply, just on a different scale. Thus, Bob dubbed Marys Peak a “mini-Yosemite” in honor of the striking resemblance.

Hard as a Rock

At about 500 feet above the rest, Marys Peak is the highest mountain in Oregon’s Coast Range. In part, Marys Peak stands out above the other mountains because it is hard-headed or, as Bob puts it—stubborn! Compared to the sedimentary rocks that once covered it, the gabbro on top of Marys Peak is very resistant to weathering and erosion. The stubborn gabbro thus acts as a sort of shield to the elements, allowing the peak to remain prominent.

Image Credit: Lillie, Robert. “Oregon’s Island in the Sky: Geology Road Guide to Marys Peak.” Wells Creek Publishers, 2017.

Island in the Sky 

The fact that Marys Peak is “stubborn, has essentially allowed it to maintain its height and, in turn, a cold subalpine climate. Marys Peak, as Bob describes, is “an island in the sky.” 

With colder, harsher conditions than other coastal mountains, Marys Peak exists as a remnant of the past. Rather than the typical Coast Range Douglas-fir/hemlock forest, Marys Peak is a botanical anomaly, and a very beautiful one—it has even been designated a Scenic Botanical Special Interest Area.   

The meadows, rock gardens, and noble fir forests that make up the upper reaches of Marys Peak are unique to the Coast Range today, but once would have been typical of the region. Botanically speaking, Marys Peak is living in the last ice age that ended about 12,000 years ago. Many subalpine wildflower species are found here. During our hike through the rock garden, Bob and I took note of several: harsh Indian paintbrush, spreading phlox, Cascade desert parsley, and Cardwell’s penstemon, to name a few; and in the meadows- glacier lilies.  

A gabbro wildflower rock garden on Marys Peak

Marys Desert?!?

But subalpine flowers were not the only botanical anomaly of note on Marys Peak. As we hiked farther up the summit trail, past most of the rock gardens, Bob pointed out a slightly lower ridge to the left on the south flank of the mountain.  Here we found another remnant of the past—a veritable desert!  

Some 6,000 to 4,000 years ago, during a warm, dry period, species still found today in the eastern or southern parts of Oregon spread into parts of western Oregon.  Later, as the climate again shifted toward cooler and wetter, most of these—what are known as xeric species—retreated back.  But this outcropping- with it’s thin, rocky soil (thanks again to stubborn gabbro) and it’s harsh, drying winds- held onto its xeric species. The west-facing of this area is especially important because high winds coming from that direction blow away most of the heavy snow blanket that covers other areas near Marys Peak summit. 

I was unable to see or identify xeric species from where I stood, but prostate lupine (eastern Oregon species) and sulfur flowered buckwheat (southern Oregon species) are apparently two xeric species to keep an eye out for. 

Marys Desert—A xeric rock garden (desert ecosystem) on the west-facing slope of Marys Peak  

Story Beneath the Scenery

About ½ mile from the start of the trail, we reached the summit of Marys Peak. Ignoring the unsightly communication towers behind us, we looked out into the horizon. The views on Marys Peak are reason number two for visiting—come for the wildflowers, but make sure you stay for the viewpoints (and the geology)!  

From the summit, looking to the west, you can see the Pacific Ocean; and to the east the Cascade Volcanoes are prominently on display, with the Willamette Valley in the foreground. With such scenery, it is easy to get caught up in the simple beauty of Oregon.

It’s also the perfect opportunity to start thinking like a geophysicist—which, according to Bob, involves observing the landscape and visualizing what happened beneath Earth’s surface to cause it.  Much of geology happens slowly. We can’t watch changes occur, but we can use what we do see to develop inferences regarding the past. Like watching the final scene in a movie, it isn’t too difficult to deduce some of the earlier scenes if you are paying attention.  As Bob puts it- “there is a story beneath the scenery.”  

Views from the summit of Marys Peak

Moving Plates

The Earth is composed of about 12 hard tectonic plates that move around on a softer part of the mantle, called the asthenosphere. These plates grind past one another, and they grow and shrink as they move toward, under, and away from each other.  The motion is messy, resulting in cracking and folding, as well as earthquakes and even volcanic eruptions. These large-scale motions help explain much of Earth’s formations, including those visible from the top of Marys Peak. 

Born in the Ocean

Marys Peak did not start out as a peak. Rather, Marys Peak, and the Coast Range in general, started out as rocks and islands scattered about in the Pacific Ocean. What is now Oregon did not exist 200 million years ago! Over long periods of geological time, the North American plate bulldozed these rocks and islands off the ocean floor, and in the process built Oregon.  

As Bob explained, Oregon sits along a convergent plate boundary, where the North American and Juan de Fuca plates have been colliding for millions of years. More importantly, due to differences in density, the oceanic Juan de Fuca Plate has been diving beneath the continental North American Plate—a process known as subduction.  

But subduction is not a clean or smooth process.  Anything massive that doesn’t fit under North America is scraped off the oceanic plate and added to the continent. These masses of land, called exotic terranes, are responsible for a good portion of Oregon’s land mass, including Marys Peak and most of the coast range.  

In the case of Marys Peak, the basalt lava flows and overlying sedimentary rock layers formed in the ocean.  Later, as the oceanic plate subducted beneath the western edge of Oregon, magma intruded into these rock layers, forming vertical dikes and horizontal sills of gabbro (like the one that forms the “stubborn” caprock of Marys Peak). As the plate convergence continued, a large block of rock was thrust upward and eastward along the Corvallis Fault. Marys Peak was born!  

The other Coast Range mountains visible from Marys Peak summit are similarly composed of volcanic and sedimentary rocks from the ocean that were thrust upward and over the edge of the continent. And like Marys Peak, many of the other high Coast Range mountains are capped by hard, intrusive gabbro. 

Image Credit: Lillie, Robert. “Oregon’s Island in the Sky: Geology Road Guide to Marys Peak.” Wells Creek Publishers, 2017.

Volcanic Peaks

Marys Peak is not a volcano, but from Marys Peak you can see a great many volcanoes. From our vantage point, Bob and I were able to see Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, and the Three Sisters; and, later in the day, Three Fingered Jack, Mt, Washington, Mt. Bachelor, and Diamond Peak. On clearer days you can also see Mt. Rainer, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams farther north; and Mt. Thielsen, Mt. Mazama (Crater Lake), and Mt. McLoughlin to the south. Marys Peak offers views of most of Washington’s and Oregon’s great Cascade Volcanoes! 

I love the Cascade Volcanoes and can’t help but smile anytime I can see them off in the distance. But why are they there? Is there a story beneath the scenery? 

Don’t Sweat! 

Yep! Once again, plate tectonics provides an explanation.

When an oceanic plate subducts, as is occurring off the Oregon Coast today, it starts to sweat!  At about 50 miles below the surface the plate is under so much heat and pressure that it begins to metamorphose and dehydrate. The hot water released reacts chemically with overlying rock, causing it to melt and generate magma. The result is the starting material for repeated volcanic eruptions. 

For the last several million years, the Cascade Volcanoes have been fed by the magma generated by the subduction of the Juan de Fuca Plate below the North American Plate.  The volcanic peaks have erupted countless times during this time period, building up their cone shapes with each eruption.  Though it may seem infrequent on a human timescale, eruptive periods are frequent- with more than 100 Cascade eruptions over the past few thousand years.  As long as subduction continues, the Cascades will continue to erupt. 

Image Credit: Lillie, Robert. “Oregon’s Island in the Sky: Geology Road Guide to Marys Peak.” Wells Creek Publishers, 2017.

The Dynamic Duo: Uplift and Erosion

As Bob pointed out, while tectonic activity is building up volcanoes and lifting up mountains, the other half of a dynamic duo is tearing it all down. The effects of erosion can also be observed at the summit of Marys Peak. 

The Marys Peak region once had an additional two miles of sedimentary rock sitting on top of it!  As the land was lifted up, wind, rain and snow were, at the same time, wearing it down. Sedimentary rock is easily eroded, but Marys hard-headedness—aka her gabbro top—is a big reason she remains tall today. 

The effects of erosion can also be be observed in the Cascade Volcanoes.  When volcanoes become inactive and are no longer being built up by eruptions, they start loosing their tops.  Mt. Washington and Mt. Thielsen are great examples of this. Their pointy tops suggest they haven’t erupted in a really long time, as glaciers have etched away their smooth cones. Yes, even volcanoes show signs of aging!  One the other hand, Mt. Hood’s symmetrical cone shape is a good indicator of “recent” volcanic activity. 

Story of People

After spending several minutes at the top of Marys Peak discussing the “story beneath the scenery,” Bob and I continued our hike, moving downward along the summit trail until we reached the Meadowedge trail junction. Here we took a left and followed the Meadowedge trail. 

Toward the end of that loop, Bob stopped me, suggesting one more time we read the landscape. 

 “What do you see?” He said. 

I looked out across a rolling meadow. But with thoughts of plate tectonics running through my head, I overlooked what he wanted me to see. Finally, he pointed it out- a stage!  

Following WWII, a group known as the Shriners began holding an annual fundraising event on Marys Peak known as the Marys Peak Trek. Each year thousands of people attended to enjoy food and entertainment. One of the meadows even became a parking lot. The damage was extensive. But by 1983, the Trek ended, and the meadows have had some time to start to recover. Even the earthen stage is easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it.  

The Shriners Trek stage.

Bob and I ended our hike by completing the meadowedge loop back to the summit trail, where we hiked through Noble fir forest back to the parking lot where we said our goodbyes.  

Back to the Future

I am not ready to say goodbye to Marys Peak.

Marys Peak still faces many challenges. Rare meadows have been encroached on by Noble fir forest, at least in part due to human disturbance. Social trails and wildflower gathering remain a constant threat to the meadows. And then there is climate change, threatening the very existence of this ice-aged ecosystem.

However, there are also many forces working to preserve Marys Peak. Meadows are being restored and Noble fir populations kept in check. Signs and barriers mark sensitive areas. And many local community groups, like the Marys Peak Alliance, are working to educate visitors on the ecological and cultural importance of Marys Peak.

As we look forward to the future of Marys Peak, it is my hope that it remains as it is today: a future set in the past.

Dr. Robert J. (Bob) Lillie is a free-lance writer, science communicator, and interpretive trainer. Bob was a Professor of Geosciences at Oregon State University from 1984 to 2011. He studied geology at the University of Louisiana- Lafayette and Oregon State University while earning his bachelors and masters degrees, and later studied geophysics at Cornell University where he earned his Ph.D. 

Bob has written extensively about Pacific Northwest geology in “Beauty from the Beast: Plate Tectonics and the Landscapes of the Pacific Northwest” and “Oregon’s Island in the Sky: Geology Road Guide to Marys Peak.” Both books are available at area bookstores, museums and visitor centers, as well as on amazon.com