Janet Throop/Venture contributor Last summer's B & B Complex fire scarred thousands of acres, but made for great skiing.

Hot skiing

Santiam Pass fires leave great cross country environs

By Allen Throop
Venture contributor

Shortly after Santiam Pass was reopened after the forest fire of last summer, a friend drove over U.S. Highway 20 and told me about the miles of devastated forest she saw.

A few weeks later, with smoke and helicopters still in the air, I followed her route. The charred spires of a former green forest were not a pretty sight. I tried to suppress a thought but it kept coming back and back.

Now, as snow accumulates on the pass, I can no longer hide my feelings: Cross-country skiing the trails of the burned area will be great!

When my family first started cross-country skiing at Santiam Pass in the early 1980s, we would often go to Ray Benson Sno Park and ski to the south. Between the parking lot and Big Lake was a large, open, gently rolling area covered with small lodgepole pines that were buried for the winter after a few snowstorms.

We could ski in any direction, and with clear weather we had constant views of extinct volcanoes to keep us oriented: Hayrick Butte to the west, Mount Washington to the south and Three Fingered Jack to the north.

In time, I recognized that the open area was the site of a forest fire, and during years of skiing, the boundaries of the 1967 Big Lake Airstrip fire became clear to me.

From Big Lake, to Sand Mountain, to the top of the ski lifts at Hoodoo, the burned land was covered with manzanita, ceanothus, young lodgepole pine and other vegetation typical of burn scars and clear-cuts in the Cascade Range.

From any high spot, the landscape of gray spires accented with charcoal patches was easy to pick out.

Each year, we became more familiar with the land.

One winter, I thought the snow was shallower than usual because the young trees were obviously sticking out more than they had the previous year. I was wrong. The new lodgepole pines were getting taller.

As the years passed and the growth rate quickened, skiing off the trail in the burn scar grew ever more difficult.

As our skiing ability improved, we turned adventurous and left the trails behind.

Some days we would ski north toward Three Fingered Jack, an area that had not been burned. The mountain slope was steep but the scenery changed little from year-to-year.

Immediately upon leaving Santiam Sno Park, we would be in a wonderland of deep snow, green needles, and brown bark.

Unless we climbed high onto the rocky shoulders of Three Fingered Jack, our world was restricted to the snow beneath us and the trees around and above us.

On other days, we would ski between Hayrick Butte and the Hoodoo ski area and head for Sand Mountain, avoiding the snowmobiles by using the old Santiam Wagon Road and working our way through the young trees. The view from the top of Sand Mountain, even before the fire lookout was restored, made the trip out and back worthwhile.

If we had left a second car at Potato Hill or Little Nash Sno Park, we would eat lunch at The Rock, a place identified on no map and known to few others. On a sunny day, the rocks radiated warmth as we enjoyed the view, and when the wind came from the west, large trees provided shelter.

Telemark skiing down a steep clear-cut slope below The Rock was a highlight of most trips.

Last year, when my favorite wife and I made a final trip around the South Loop Trail at Ray Benson Sno Park, we had little choice but to stay on the trail in much of the burned area. Only through constant maintenance has the trail been kept free of vegetation.

Despite the setback of the 1960s fire, sizable trees once more dominate the landscape. Views of Mount Washington are now infrequent, although still available in spots such as near Brandenburg shelter, where the trees have not re-grown.

Likewise, telemarking through the clear-cut below The Rock is no longer fun. The skirts formed by the branches of the trees planted after the loggers left are now touching.

Perhaps in 50 years, when the conifers are sizable, a good skier will yodel with delight while carving beautiful turns in fresh snow with the tree canopy high above.

The B & B Complex fire of 2003 unquestionably made drastic changes as it consumed the vegetation near Santiam Pass.

The fire covered approximately 92,000 acres north and south of Highway 20 last summer, over 10 times the size of the 1967 fire. Most, but not all, of the fire was north of the highway.

Parts of the North Loop Trail were burned. The North Blowout Shelter is gone. Many islands of unburned or partially burned land remain within the fire's perimeter.

If I were skiing at Santiam Pass this winter, I would explore the drastically changed landscape along North Loop Trail.

The Forest Service has reestablished the blue route markers and has removed the burned trees that could be hazardous to trail users. The contrast between the green unburned areas and the black burned area should be dramatic, and on a clear day, the newly opened vistas should be spectacular.

Exploring the burn from the official trails might be enough for this winter.

Life and death in the forest continue.

Snow is falling and building up on branches, dead and alive. The wind will blow. The sound of trees falling and branches breaking will echo through the burned forest, regardless of the questions asked by philosophers.

Insects and fungus are already starting to eat away at all the newly dead wood. Black-backed woodpeckers are licking their long pointed bills knowing that each dead tree can be a new restaurant for them.

In a few years, the smell of ceanothus and the distinctive sight of manzanita bark will increase dramatically in the burned area.

Cross-country skiing has long been popular at Santiam Pass, and the fires of last summer should not deter visitors from the trails this winter.

In a few years, the dead branches now hanging in the trees will be on the ground, the tottering trees will have toppled over, and grand views from the slopes of Three Fingered Jack will reward those adventurous enough to make the trip.

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