Scars from Shadow Lake Fire persist

On August 23 of last year, a friend proposed that we hike the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) from McKenzie Pass to Santiam Pass. As much time as I'd spent in both areas, I had never actually connected the dots between the two.

It was a long, hard hike; but we successfully covered a lot of country I'd been anxious to explore. Five days later, the Shadow Lake Fire was ignited by a lightning strike, and that trail was closed for the rest of the hiking season.

The fire was initially spotted from the Black Butte lookout tower, but was smoldering in a remote area, and did not rate much early fire suppression attention. Within a couple of days, however, the fire grew to over 300 acres and began to attract more interest.

On August 29, the Central Oregon Interagency Dispatch Center issued a news release that said, "The fire was mapped this morning at 242 acres...Plans for this evening are to keep two engines on night shift to patrol the fire area for spots outside the containment line on the east flank...The closure is not expected to affect the Pacific Crest Trail."

In less than two weeks, however, the fire swept across the Cascade Crest and the PCT, and 10,000 acres were aflame in the shadow of Mt. Washington.

For obvious reasons, I never filed my column for that hike last year. So, last month, when the snow finally receded enough to explore the area, the two of us returned to that portion of the PCT to see what changes had been wrought.

We entered the 10-mile long burn just east of the Big Lake Youth Camp, where the PCT crosses Forest Road 500, which follows the route of the old Santiam Wagon Road. This road and Road 960, which leads to the camp, were successfully used as a fire line along the northern boundary of the fire. The fire burned to within a few yards of the Youth Camp, but the camp was saved.

Because of a mosaic fire pattern in this area, our first impression was that fire had not burned too hot. More than a few trees were spared in this area, and the landscape did not reflect the utter devastation we have seen resulting from some fires. In one area, the fire had apparently crowned, killing all the big trees but leaving large portions untouched beneath the burning canopy.

In some cases, 20- and 30-foot-tall trees had survived because they were below the treetop-level fire; and occasional big trees survived, as well. Farther in, unfortunately, we observed areas where everything was burned black down to the bare soil.

Even in these areas, however, the soil was not scorched to the point of sterility. The plant form we observed making the swiftest recovery was the ubiquitous beargrass. With the fallen needles and other forest floor debris entirely consumed, the beargrass shoots sprouted up like tiny palm trees atop their charred root stalks. Their deep, thick, tuber-like roots had survived the fire and were fully engaged in the business of life.

Some areas had extensive patches of untouched forest and others exhibited good survival rates of seedlings and smaller trees. Where we entered the burn, it was about two miles wide from north to south. As we approached the southern boundary of the fire, a mosaic pattern appeared again, as burned and unburned trees occupied the same space.

Farther along, the pattern changed to mostly unburned forest, with isolated burned trees having been charred by spot fires. Eventually, the landscape at trailside was exactly the same as it had been when we passed through last year.

I had not known how much of a mess we would encounter, and I was mentally prepared for some rough going. What we found, though, was that the trail itself was in pretty good shape, with surprisingly few downed trees blocking the path. The trail was easy to follow, and PCT hikers this year will hardly be inconvenienced at all by the effects of  the fire.

Still, another 10,000 acres of our once-verdant landscape has gone up in flames, and the scar will remain beyond our lifetimes. The once-endless green forests of our spectacular mountain country continue to dwindle with each passing year. I can't help but wonder what will be left for future generations.