As such, when you get to its top, it seems to tower over the lower hills to its south much like Mt. Rainier towers over its surroundings. Seven miles to the WNW of Clark is the stratovolcano Glacier Peak 10, ft , of which many a summitposter is familiar. Clark and Glacier are connected by a long high ridge. This ridge is known as the DaKobed Range. Other major peaks along this ridge include Luahna Peak est. The vertical drop from the summit to the White River on the southwest is an impressive 6, ft in about two miles.
The drop to the northeast to Napeequa River is 4, feet in about two miles. There are two important glaciers eating away at Clark. The first of these is the Walrus Glacier shown as the Clark Glacier on maps on the east. When it is in shape, this glacier is a semi-popular basic glacier climb for the Mountaineers. The second but larger glacier is the Richardson 1.
Boulder Pass 6, feet meanwhile is the pass capping the top of Boulder Creek that is located a few linear miles east of Clark Mountain. The open terrain and vegetation of the pass gives an airy view out over the peaks confining both the White and Napeequa Rivers.
Elevation Gain: Clark Mountain 6, vertical feet. Boulder Pass: 4, vertical feet. Newton Mabee Clark attended Stanford University, graduating in Marines, and served in World War I. Newton M. Clark died in Seattle in and had no children.
William returned with his family to Hood River in , shortly before his parents made their own return to Hood River from Portland. For the next ten years he worked in the flour and grain business for C. H Stranahan in Hood River before returning to public service in for the Oregon Highway Department, at a time when the Historic Columbia River Highway construction was in full swing.
William finished his career with the City of Hood River, serving as city engineer from to apparently his death in April , at the age of She died in at the age of Historical accounts show that Newton and Mary had moved back to Portland in about He had been called back from retirement to once again serve Grand Recorder of his beloved A. If this timeline is correct, the Clarks spent just five years in Hood River after their return, and the photos in this article of the Clarks taking part in community life in Hood River marked their final days living there.
Newton and Mary Clark both died in , and remarkably, both were exactly 80 years and 24 days old at the time of their deaths. However, Mary Clark was in failing health when her husband died, and she was unable to travel to Hood River to attend his service. It was a privilege to hear him recount tales of the days of the past.
As everlasting as the hills and mountain crags he loved were the principles and rugged honesty of Newton Clark. He was loyal to the things he believed in and fought untiringly for their accomplishment.
Clark had passed the age of 80 years. He walked with erectness and his step was firm. News of his death brought a shock of grief to all here last Friday. His comrades, men who knew him best, and loved him, and the families of pioneers, heard the sad news with pains of deepest regrets. But on the morning of July 20, Jeanette found that her mother had died in the night at her home in Portland, just a month after Newton has passed away. This tribute was published in the Hood River Glacier as the community mourned the loss of two of its most prominent pioneers:.
Yet few men or women who have not yet reached the three-score-and-ten mark are more active or vigorous than this sturdy couple, a typical product of the frontier and pioneer life.
Both are possessed of an optimism and enthusiasm that youth might envy. Though Newton and Mary Clark spent most of their years in Oregon living in Portland, their hearts were clearly in Hood River, where they had first carved out a life as Oregon pioneers. Not only did they choose to retire to Hood River however briefly before Newton was called back to service , they also chose to be buried there, just a few steps from where they had buried their daughter Grace eight years before, and where their son William would be buried just twelve years after they died.
True, he does have a spectacular glacier named for him, which sure beats a street or local park, but his commitment to service puts him in rare company among the early pioneers in Oregon. Fortunately, his contemporaries recognized this and there are excellent historical accounts of his life, if only we take the time to discover them.
For the direct quotes from Newton Clark used in this article, I turned to a front-page interview and profile published on April 6, by the Hood River Glacier, just two years before his death. For additional history, I turned to other news accounts from the era, as well as an excellent oral history largely written by Newton Clark, himself, in the History of Early Pioneer Families of Hood River, Oregon , compiled in by Mrs. Call it a burr under my saddle, but when I learned decades ago that Newton Clark was one man, not a hyphenation, it bothered me that the two outflow streams were each given one half of his name.
It struck me as a combination of historical ignorance and a degree of disrespect behind that decision, wherever it came from. So, where did it come from? My guess is that these were lighthearted names attached by an early forest ranger, long ago, when most of the features in our national forests were casually named with little thought that these names would stick for centuries to come.
Perhaps even Barney Cooper, the first district ranger for the Hood River area, named these streams in the early s? And if Barney came up with the names, then surely he knew Newton Clark personally? After all, Hood River was a very small community in those early days. Perhaps it was Newton Clark, himself, who came up with these names while out on a survey?
Whatever the reason behind the names for this pair of streams, the fact is that place names are one of the best and most durable ways to preserve our history for future generations. After all, would Newton have managed his remarkable life without a remarkable partner like Mary? Of course not. See how easy that is?
Of course, when it comes to geographic names, nothing is easy! The Clarks have certainly passed the 5-year requirement, years after their deaths. The second part of this requirement could be more of a challenge, but the fact that the Newton Clark Glacier already contains the full name of a historic figure would be my argument for making another exception, here.
The last part is easy, as the contribution the Clarks made to the area is undeniable and well documented. Most importantly, the proposed change would also clear up potential confusion, something the OGBN also factors into their decisions. Forest Service for their endorsements of the proposal, as well.
But some of the best views are from Gnarl Ridge, on the Timberline Trail. Here, the impressive scale of the Newton Creek canyon and the full width of the glacier are in full view.
In summer, a series of tall waterfalls cascade from the glacier over the Newton Clark Prow and into Newton Canyon. True to its name, Gnarl Ridge is home to hundreds of ancient, gnarled Whitebark pine that have survived the harsh conditions here for centuries.
Both approaches, either from Cloud Cap or Hood River Meadows, involve a lot of climbing, though the scenery is some of the finest in Oregon.
One advantage of the Cloud Cap approach is that no glacial stream crossings are required. However, several permanent, and potentially treacherous snowfields must be crossed on this highest section of the Timberline Trail. This is a good family hike for a summer day, but it does require crossing Newton Creek without the aid of a footbridge — which can be an exciting experience.
By mid-summer, Timberline Trail hikers have usually stitched together a seasonal crossing with available logs and stones, but expect wet feet when the water is high! For a more remote experience, following the Newton Creek Trail to either Newton Creek or Clark Creek or both has dramatic views and a lot of rugged mountain terrain to explore. The route to the Newton Clark Trail crosses Clark Creek on a log bridge that has somehow survived this rowdy stream, then turns north and travels along Newton Creek before making a gradual climb along the northeast shoulder of the Newton Clark Moraine.
Or both, which is how I enjoy doing this hike. Where Newton Creek canyon is vast and awesome, Clark Creek canyon has a few surprises, including lovely, verdant Heather Canyon, a side canyon with a string of splashing waterfalls. The Clark Canyon headwall is also unique. The receding Newton Clark Glacier has left a wide, scoured rock amphitheater behind that has dozens of tiny streams running across its face in summer.
Downstream from the bowl, Clark Creek drops over a major waterfall visible from the Timberline Trail before reaching the debris-covered floor of the valley. In most years, an impromptu rope helps hikers navigate a washed-out bank as you approach the chaotic canyon floor, and this is a preview of what can be one of the more difficult glacial crossings on the Timberline Trail.
Like Clark Creek, you can skip the crossing this glacial stream and simply enjoy a lunch atop one of the many table-sized boulders that fill Newton Canyon, with a fine view of the mountain. The Newton Clark Glacier is more prominent here, and the steep cliffs of Gnarl Ridge and Lamberson Spur rise along the far canyon wall. There are a couple of ways to get to Bald Butte.
This steep but scenic trail switchbacks up an open slope of Oregon white oak and spring wildflowers before entering forest and joining the Surveyors Ridge Trail. Watch for a gravel spur road on the right, shortly after you pass under a swath of transmission towers, and follow the spur to a trailhead under the powerlines. The view from the trailhead is spectacular enough, but following the trail from here which is really the old, primitive lookout road to the summit of Bald Butte is even more sublime, passing several wildflower meadows that bloom in May and early June.
Hopefully, the Forest Service decision to close most areas in the forest to these destructive vehicles will eventually be enforced. You can hike to this area from the Gibson Prairie Horse Camp. Several handy boulders in the steep meadow pictured above make for a good destination for this short, easy hike. Turn right on Surveyors Ridge Trail, and you can take a shorter hike to Rimrock, where the views are somewhat overgrown, but still nice.
Visiting the twin canyons of the Newton Clark Glacier is a great way to appreciate the raw power of the floods it has generated over the years. Views along the lower section of the Newton Creek Trail below tell the story, with truck-sized boulders and stacks of foot logs tossed about in a quarter-mile wide flood channel. Much of the more recent devastation you see here occurred in the fall of , when heavy rains fell on a blanket of early snow, and combined to send a wall of rock and mud down the canyon.
The debris flow roared down to Highway 35, blocking culverts, covering the road with boulders and washing out large sections of road bed.
A similar event was occurring on the White River at the same time, temporarily cutting off access to the Mount Hood Meadows resort from both east and west. As sudden and violent as this event seemed, in reality it was part of an ongoing erosional process as old as the mountain, itself. LIDAR has allowed geoscientists to map the history of faults, floodplains and landslides as never before. The valley floor is made up of loose debris deposited from these floods over the millennia, and both Newton and Clark creeks have changed course in this soft material with regularity.
Click here for a larger view of the Newton Clark Flood Zone map. Whereas topographic maps simply show a relatively flat, featureless valley floor here, LIDAR reveals hundreds of interwoven flood channels across what we now know as the Newton Clark flood zone. Many of these channels were formed centuries ago, and some in our lifetimes.
Some may have flowed for decades without much change, while others may have formed in a single event, then went dry. Both Newton and Clark creeks are continually on the move, and so long as the main steam of the East Fork is on the opposite, and downhill side the Mount Hood Loop Highway OR 35 , both streams will continue to wreak havoc on the highway.
Beyond their cultural significance, glaciers also keep forests healthy and forest fires at bay. Glacial meltwater flows into rivers that generate hydroelectricity.
The ski industry generates hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue each year. Agricultural and ranching operations use irrigation dependent on glacier melt, and commercially fished salmon will suffer if the glaciers that keep rivers cool for their spawning warm up due to a lack of chilly glacial meltwater infusions, threatening the species and those whose livelihoods depend on them.
As these critically important icy giants melt away, some people , like Mark Carey, professor of environmental studies at the University of Oregon, wonder if glacier funerals encourage solutions-minded thinking or put too great a focus on the past. Carey recognized the potential that a glacier funeral has to attract attention to the industries and parts of society endangered by glacier loss, especially in the Lower 48 where glaciers are often overlooked.
But, he was weary of such events not being enough to counter the lack of climate policy in the United States and of their capacity to distract from efforts to pinpoint the drivers of and solutions for glacier change.
When the first domino fell as a group of scientists was inspired to commemorate the first loss of an Icelandic glacier to climate change, they set in motion a series of events that has yet to topple the final piece of the chain.
We need a fundamental, philosophical change in how we operate and think. It is yet possible that the changes needed are just a bit further down the line. View this post on Instagram.
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