Mt Hood Loop Highway Archives - Mount Hood History

Mount Hood Auto Stages: From Rugged Roads to Modern Highways

The Rise and Fall of Primitive Travel on the Old Barlow Road

The Early Days of the Mount Hood Auto Stages

In the early 20th century, long before travelers zipped up Highway 26 to the ski lifts and resorts of Mount Hood, the trip to the mountain was rugged and uncertain. The road, built on the bones of the old Barlow Trail, was steep, narrow, and either muddy or dusty depending on the season. For those without their own means of transportation—and even for those who did—reliable travel meant trusting the early Mount Hood auto stages and their legendary drivers who knew every twist, rut, and washout of the mountain road.

Olinger Stages to Mount Hood. — Olinger Stages to Mount Hood

The Route to the Mountain

Before the 1880s, travelers followed the original Barlow Trail, carved out by immigrant wagon trains in the 1840s to the 1860’s. This immigrant trail came from Central Oregon and passed over Mount Hood’s southern shoulder. The route took travelers through the area that we know today on the south side of Mount Hood. Coming down from the mountain the route followed the north side of the Zigzag River and then crossed the Sandy River to the north side and through what we now know as Marmot. This remained the primary route until settlement increased east of Sandy.

In the 1880s, a new south side road connected Sandy to Government Camp by following the south bank of the Sandy River. This alternative offered gentler grades, primitive but useful bridges creating more reliable access. Consequently, it soon became the main road to and from the mountain. Meanwhile, the Marmot Road continued as a scenic alternate, especially for travelers heading to Aschoff’s Mountain Home.

The primary route—used by both stagecoaches and auto stages—passed through Sandy, Cherryville, Brightwood, Welches, Zigzag, Rhododendron, and Government Camp. Notable stops included the Cherryville Hotel, Welch’s Hotel, Tawney’s and the Rhododendron Inn, and others.

Mount Hood Auto Stages - Rhododendron Inn — The Rhododendron Inn

The Stage Lines and Their Drivers

Initially, travelers relied on horse-drawn stages operated by local residents. Joe Meinig and Walter Ziegler were among the best-known drivers in those early days. However, as the road improved and mountain tourism grew, motorized stages entered the picture.

By the 1910s, auto stages had largely replaced horse-drawn wagons. Bob Elliott, a Sandy garage owner, led the way with one of the first regular lines to Government Camp. His rugged fleet of Pierce-Arrows, Cadillacs, and White touring cars came equipped with chains, spare tires, and tools for inevitable roadside repairs.

One of the most prominent operations was Reliance Mount Hood Stages. They offered daily trips from Portland’s eastside waterfront and coordinated with nearly every lodging stop along the route. Their Touring Cars became a familiar sight climbing the dusty grades to Rhododendron and beyond.

Among the legendary drivers was Dr. Ivan M. Wooley. His memoir, Off to Mt. Hood – An Auto Biography Of The Old Road, preserves vivid recollections of the people, places, and perils of early auto stage travel. His storytelling has given us one of the richest surviving records of this vanished era.

Ivan Woolley Stuck on the Road to Mount Hood

Hard Roads and Gritty Travel

Despite the switch from horses to horsepower, travel remained difficult. The roads were merely widened wagon paths. On steep hills like Laurel Hill and McIntyre Hill, passengers often had to walk. The latter, near Brightwood, posed such a challenge that hotelier John McIntyre charged motorists a fee to haul their cars up the grade with his horses. Eventually, widening the road, regrading the hills and decreasing the grades helped. Still, early autos struggled.

Drivers had to wear many hats: mechanic, navigator, and even peacemaker. They fixed broken axles, crossed flooded creeks, and comforted uneasy passengers. Some vehicles towed freight. Others had canvas tops for sun and rain. The trip could last all day, but for many, that was part of the fun.

Mount Hood Auto Stages — Broke down in Government Camp

Mountain Tourism and the Resorts That Made It Possible

The auto stages helped turn Mount Hood into a major Oregon destination. Easier access drew tourists eager to escape city heat or enjoy snowy slopes. Resorts like Welch’s Ranch, Arrah Wanna Lodge, Tawney’s Mountain Home, and the Rhododendron Inn thrived. They offered lodging, camping, hearty meals, hunting, fishing, hiking, dances and community bonfires. Most worked directly with stage lines, ensuring guests could be dropped off at their doorsteps. Back then, the journey, the lodging, and the scenery created a complete experience.

The Automobile Takes Over

By the mid-1920s, personal automobiles had changed everything. Tourists no longer needed to reserve stage seats. They could drive, stop where they pleased, and enjoy more freedom. Ironically, the new Mount Hood Loop Highway—built to improve access—also ended the era of the auto stage. Independence had arrived.

The End of the Line for The Mount Hood Auto Stages

In 1923, the Mount Hood Loop Highway was completed, dramatically altering travel to the mountain. With the addition of a road to Hood River on the east side, the full loop was in place.

As roads improved and cars became more dependable, scheduled auto stages became obsolete. Tourists drove themselves, and although the mountain resorts endured, the days of colorful drivers and mechanical struggles quietly faded away.

Love Mount Hood History?

Discover more local stories, rare photos, and forgotten places:

Historic Photos
Mount Hood Pioneers
Welches & Rhododendron
Barlow Road Stories
Lost Resorts & Landmarks

Follow the trails. Meet the people. Uncover the past.

Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon – Pioneer Innkeeper

Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon – Pioneer of Hospitality

From the Swiss Alps to Oregon’s Mount Hood

Before Rhododendron, Oregon, became a known mountain getaway, Susette Franzetti helped build its identity. A Swiss hotelier with European training, she transformed the area with hospitality, real estate, and resilience. Ultimately, the story of Susette Franzetti Rhododendron Oregon is one of independence and quiet determination.

A Lifelong Passion for Hospitality

Susette Franzetti was born in 1879 near Lake Constance, Switzerland. After graduating high school, she studied French in Geneva and began training in hotels across Lugano, London, the Italian Riviera, and Corsica. She spoke seven languages and worked in the front office, purchasing, and guest services.

“You can’t be a successful resort keeper unless you really have in your heart the spirit of hospitality,” she once said.

Starting a New Life in America

In 1905, Susette immigrated to the United States. She married Emil Franzetti, a renowned European chef, and together they lived in New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C. By 1909, they had settled in Portland, Oregon, where Emil became the head chef at The Quelle.

They were a powerhouse pair—Emil in the kitchen, Susette handling the business side.

Managing the Rhododendron Inn Alone

In 1911, the Franzettis purchased the Rhododendron Inn, originally developed by Portland’s former mayor, Henry S. Rowe. The 160-acre property quickly became a favorite stop for travelers and skiers.

Tragedy struck in 1916 when Emil died in an automobile accident. Even so, Susette carried on. She ran the inn alone for seven years, continuing to serve guests and manage operations.

The Woman Who Helped Build Rhododendron

In 1923, Susette sold the Rhododendron Inn, but she didn’t slow down. She subdivided her land, built and sold 36 cottages, and helped shape what would become the town of Rhododendron. As a result, her sharp business sense and reputation for fairness left a lasting mark on the area.

In 1933, she said:

“I had 150 acres here, which I subdivided and sold in tracts and lots. I have built and sold 36 cottages here. Two-thirds of my property is already sold.”

Suitcases and Zeppelins: A Life of Travel

Despite living in the forest, Susette never stopped exploring. In 1925, she traveled to Europe via the Panama Canal. Four years later, she began a 16-month world tour, which included a Graf Zeppelin flight over England. Then in 1937, she boarded a ship in Portland bound for Naples to reunite with her brother from Switzerland.

Her love for travel and learning never faded.

Final Years and an Unseen Legacy

Susette spent her final years at Willamette Manor Convalescent Center, where she lived from 1957 until her death in 1972 at the age of 93. Her ashes were returned to her hometown of Romanshorn, Switzerland.

Although she left no surviving family, her influence still echoes through the cabins and lots she developed. To this day, her story is inseparable from the history of Rhododendron, Oregon.

Susette Franzetti’s Enduring Spirit

Few people did more to shape the look and spirit of early Rhododendron than Susette Franzetti. With her world-class hospitality background and independent spirit, she built a life rooted in generosity, vision, and perseverance.

The next time you walk the trails or pass through Rhododendron, picture a woman who once ran the inn, subdivided the land, and brought global perspective to a quiet corner of Oregon’s mountains.

Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn – Mount Hood’s Gourmet Chef

The Culinary Legacy of Emil Franzetti

The Chef Who Brought Fine Dining to the Forest

Before ski resorts dotted the highway and travelers packed the trailheads, Emil Franzetti of the Rhododendron Inn brought elegance and fine cuisine to Oregon’s Mount Hood region. He helped transform the rugged wilderness into a mountain destination known for hospitality and good food.

At a time when most mountain lodging focused on bare essentials, Emil introduced elegance and culinary sophistication to a rugged frontier. He made people feel like honored guests, even in the Oregon woods.

From the Italian Lakes to Royal Kitchens

Emil was born near the Italian lakes and trained in Switzerland. He built a world-class culinary career, cooking in Corsica, London, and along the Italian Riviera. His expertise earned him the prestigious role of chef to the King of Italy, a rare honor that spoke volumes about his talent.

Portland, Crawfish, and a New Path to the Mountain

In 1905, Emil moved to the United States and married Susette, a hospitality professional he had met in Geneva. Together, they lived in New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., where Emil worked at high-profile hotels, including the New Willard.

They eventually moved to Portland, Oregon. There, Emil became head chef at The Quelle, a restaurant celebrated for its crawfish cooked in wine. The Quelle was more than a restaurant—it was a culinary landmark. Emil’s role as head chef helped shape Portland’s fine dining scene. He spent four years there before he left for the little mountain community of Rhododendron.

Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn — Rhododendron Inn Annex

Rhododendron Inn Becomes a Culinary Destination

In 1911, Emil and Susette bought the Rhododendron Tavern, a lodge built by former Portland mayor Henry S. Rowe. Located on 160 wooded acres, the inn sat near the Zigzag River and welcomed travelers heading to Mount Hood.

Emil expanded the property and improved the guest experience. He added a dance hall, a swimming pool, bridle paths, and cozy guest cottages. He even caught trout himself from nearby streams and served them to guests. Emil created a space where rustic charm and refined hospitality came together.

The Tragic Loss of Emil Franzetti

In November 1916, Emil drove near the Zigzag Ranger Station when his car slid into soft sand and flipped over. A passing farmer found him hours later, unconscious and pinned beneath the vehicle.

Rescuers brought him to St. Vincent’s Hospital, but Emil never regained consciousness. He died shortly after, at just 35 years old.

Friends and fellow outdoorsmen gathered at St. Mary’s Cathedral for his funeral. Members of the Mazamas Winter Skiing Club, many of whom Emil had personally hosted, paid their respects.

How Emil Franzetti Changed Rhododendron Forever

Although Emil lived a short life, his impact endures. After his death, Susette continued operating the Rhododendron Inn for seven more years. Her work honored Emil’s vision and helped develop the area into the mountain community it is today.

Together, Emil and Susette helped turn Rhododendron into a meaningful stop along the Mount Hood Highway. Emil’s commitment to quality, service, and hospitality laid a foundation that others built upon.

Emil’s Spirit in the Heart of the Mountain

The Rhododendron Inn burned down in 1949, but Emil’s legacy lives on through the stories of early Oregon hospitality. His time at the inn remains a powerful example of how one individual can elevate a place through heart, skill, and a deep respect for the guests he served.

So the next time you travel the Mount Hood Highway, picture Emil Franzetti, fresh trout in hand, preparing a meal with the same care he once gave to kings.

Emil Franzetti’s story is inseparable from the legacy of the Rhododendron Inn. To this day, visitors and locals remember Emil Franzetti Rhododendron Inn as a turning point in Mount Hood’s tourism history.

Read about Susette Franzetti HERE
Read about Emil and Susette at the Rhododendron Inn HERE

Burnt Lake Fire 1904: How the Lake Got Its Name

The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 Still Leaves a Mark

If you’ve ever taken the trail up to Burnt Lake on the west side of Mount Hood, you’ve probably noticed the open ridges and the snags along the way—scarred trees that stand like ghosts among the newer growth. The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 swept through this area, leaving damage so severe that the lake was named for it. Though the forest has mostly grown back, signs of that fire still linger, more than 120 years later.

Where Is Burnt Lake?

Burnt Lake sits in the Mount Hood National Forest, just east of Rhododendron. The trail climbs through a mix of Douglas fir, hemlock, and alder before reaching a quiet alpine basin with a view of Mount Hood reflected in the water. It’s a peaceful place now. However, in 1904, fire transformed the scene in a matter of days.

Burnt Lake Fire 1904 – Photo Cheryl Hill – www.cherylhill.net

How the Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 Started

On August 25, 1904, according to newspaper accounts, a man named Henry Harmand was burning brush near the Zigzag River. The fire quickly spread beyond his control. Based on land records and name variations common at the time, it’s likely that Henry Harmand was actually Heinrich “Henry” Haman, a homesteader who had settled in the area that would later become the townsite of Rhododendron.

That summer brought hot, dry conditions, and strong east winds fanned the flames. Once the fire reached thick timber, it moved fast. It tore across the slopes above Rhododendron, swept through the Burnt Lake Basin, and pushed toward Mount Hood and the trails to Lost Lake and Bull Run, Lolo Pass today.

Smoke and Flame Across Mount Hood’s West Side

Eyewitnesses saw a “wall of flame” rising up the ridges. Meanwhile, thick smoke drifted down into Government Camp and Sandy, where locals said they could hardly see. There were no fire crews in those days—only settlers, a few hikers, and travelers on horseback. Because of this, there was no way to stop it. The fire burned for days.

By August 28, 1904, the Oregon Daily Journal and Sunday Oregonian reported that the blaze still raged across the western slope of Mount Hood. The fire had destroyed stands of old-growth forest. Trails vanished under ash and smoke. Charred trees marked the fire’s path from Zigzag Creek to Zigzag Ridge and then toward Burnt Lake.

How Burnt Lake Got Its Name

After the fire, people began referring to the lake as Burnt Lake, a name that stuck. The name became part of local memory—and part of the map. Even today, hikers still pass the reminders. Dead snags are still found along the trail. The ridgeline above the lake opens to the sky where the canopy hasn’t fully returned. If you pay attention, you can still see the shape of the fire in the land. The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 changed more than the trees—it gave a name to the place itself.

The Legacy of the Burnt Lake Fire 1904

The Burnt Lake Fire of 1904 was one of the first major wildfires recorded on Mount Hood’s west side. It reshaped the forest, scarred the ridges, and gave a name to one of the area’s most scenic lakes. Today, Burnt Lake still reflects Mount Hood—but also a story that burned its way into the history of this mountain.

Map Curve, Is it Natural, or Man Made?

Map Curve – Mt Hood Highway 26

A Subtle Curve in the Road — and in Time

As you drive the Mount Hood Loop Highway near Rhododendron, there’s a quiet spot where the pavement shifts ever so slightly — a subtle bend that hints at something older. My friend Paul Keller captured the feeling of that place in a short reflection he shared with me. It’s a reminder that even the smallest detours can carry a story, including the infamous Map Turn, or Map Curve to some.

Paul’s writing speaks for itself, and I’m sharing it here with his permission. His observations highlight one of those often-overlooked places that help bring Mount Hood’s history to life.

Guest Post by Paul Keller

Make no mistake — that map up there is the real thing

by Paul Keller

HUNCHBACK MOUNTAIN — This dispatch is being written, believe it or not, inside “The Map” — approximately North Dakota, maybe eastern Montana.

If you’re new here, “The Map” is the namesake of Map Turn — Highway 26’s answer to the masked executioner.

Map Turn is the sweeping curve located west of Government Camp — just downslope from the new truck escape ramp — where several persons have perished in auto accidents in recent years. Eleven to date, according to Hoodland Fire Chief Don Arnimroot. (Interesting footnote: since the state highway department’s safety improvements were installed recently — including the truck escape ramp, new guardrails and better signing — Map Turn has failed to injure anyone!).

All past victims, however, failed to negotiate the fatal Map Turn bend: careening off the brim, down into the teeth of Laurel Canyon. D.O.A.

Hence, Map Turn — at least prior to these highway improvements — had achieved it’s own notoriety. Sort of a lethal hall of life hero. That potential executioner waiting to send the next unfortunate motorist on to St. Peter’s Gate.

But back to the story. Why tag it “Map Turn?” What and where is this “map,” anyway?

To understand the nomenclature, apply the brakes and pull your heap over on this popular corner. Then look west, my friend, look west.

Up there (the here where I now sit) on the eastern facing backbone of distant Hunchback’s ridge, you’ll see it. How unmistakable, really. The Map.

The map of our United States that is.

An almost perfect rendition, too. Including a well defined Florida, the New England states, and — who knows how — even Alaska. Shortcomings include an omission of the Hawaiian Islands and a dwarfed Texas. (Nobody’s perfect).

Now about those long mulled tales defending this as a logged parcel of land purposely chain-sawed and tailored by man. Pure hogwash.

Take it from this hiking boot sore reporter. The Map is a natural phenomenon. A field of giant gray boulders and a few stubborn trees.

Goodness knows how this big stone pockmark ever took on the spitting image of America the Beautiful.

In fact, maybe the roadside term shouldn’t be dismissed as simply the land-mark for a well known highway turn that affords an unblemished view of it.

Perhaps this mysterious handiwork by Mom Nature — or whatever deity you prefer — might be the Mount Hood Corridor’s own sleeping version to England’s intriguing Stonehenge.

At least an appreciative cartographical society might consider somehow honoring our natural tribute to the good old U.S. of A.

Well it’s high time I trudged back down and filed this story. What? How did I get up here in the first place? That’s for you to figure out.

Try using, pardon the repetition, a map.

Reflections on the Map Curve

I’ve passed that curve myself more times than I can count. Paul’s words bring back memories of old maps, dusty road cuts, and the way the forest quietly swallows pieces of the past. These map turns — these forgotten realignments — are more than roadwork; they’re evidence of a changing era, from pioneer trail to automobile highway.

If you’ve ever noticed this spot, or have memories of the old alignment, I’d love to hear your story. Every detail helps piece together the lost landscape of Mount Hood.

The Legacy of Emil and Susette Franzetti and the Rhododendron Inn

Inn Keepers Emil and Susette Franzetti

A Historic Inn Lost to Time

Tucked beneath the towering firs of Mount Hood’s forests, the Rhododendron Inn once stood as one of Oregon’s most celebrated mountain retreats. Over time, it became a well-known stop for weary travelers, outdoor enthusiasts, and adventure seekers. Although the inn is now gone, its legacy remains woven into the region’s history.

Among the individuals who shaped its story, Emil and Susette Franzetti stand out. Their journey was filled with ambition, hospitality, and resilience. They turned the Rhododendron Inn into a thriving mountain getaway. However, tragedy eventually struck, leaving behind a story of perseverance that helped define early tourism in Oregon’s Mount Hood region.

The Rhododendron Inn - Emil and Suzette Franzetti — The front of the old Rhododendron Inn

A Hotel in the Wilderness

The Rhododendron Inn was not originally the Franzettis’ creation. In 1905, Henry S. Rowe, a former Portland mayor, established the inn on 160 acres near the Zigzag River. His vision was to create a peaceful retreat for city dwellers in search of fresh air and mountain solitude.

To make this dream a reality, Rowe enlisted the help of Lee Holden, Portland’s fire chief at the time. With his assistance, the rustic yet elegant lodge took shape. As road conditions improved, more visitors arrived, and the inn’s popularity soared. Eventually, it became a well-known stop for those traveling toward Mount Hood.

By 1912 its ownership changed. Recognizing the inn’s potential, two seasoned hoteliers, Emil and Susette Franzetti, stepped in to elevate its status.

Emil Franzetti: A Chef for Kings

Born in Lugano, Switzerland, Emil Franzetti was not just an innkeeper—he was a renowned chef. His career took him across Europe, where he trained in some of the finest hotels. Over time, his skills became so refined that he even cooked for the King of Italy.

In 1905, Emil immigrated to the United States, determined to advance his career. After working in New York, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., he settled in Portland. There, he became the head chef at The Quelle, a famous restaurant celebrated for its crawfish dishes.

Despite his success, he longed for something different. For this reason, he and Suzette purchased the Rhododendron Inn in 1912. Their expertise and hospitality transformed the lodge into a premier mountain retreat.

A Premier Mountain Retreat

Under the Franzettis’ leadership, the Rhododendron Inn flourished. They expanded and enhanced the property, turning it into a highly sought-after destination.

Upgrades and Attractions:

A dance hall that hosted lively gatherings.
A spring-fed swimming pool for summer relaxation.
Tennis and croquet courts for sports enthusiasts.
Bridle paths and hiking trails, providing access to the surrounding forests.
Additional cottages and tent houses to accommodate more guests.

Emil’s warm hospitality made the inn unforgettable. Often, he personally caught fresh trout for guests, ensuring every meal was authentic and memorable. He was also an artist. The inn was decorated with his paintings. Furthermore, his world-class cuisine and welcoming personality helped solidify the Rhododendron Inn as one of Oregon’s most popular retreats.

Tragedy Strikes

While the inn thrived, misfortune struck the Franzetti family. On November 17, 1916, while traveling near Zigzag, Oregon, Emil’s car skidded off the road and overturned. A passing farmer eventually found him, trapped beneath the wreckage.

Rescuers rushed him to St. Vincent’s Hospital. Tragically, he never regained consciousness. At just 35 years old, Emil Franzetti passed away, leaving behind a thriving inn and a grieving wife.

His funeral took place at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Portland. To honor his memory, members of the Mazamas Mountain Climbing Club, of which he was a member, attended the ceremony. His loss devastated the Mount Hood community. Despite this, the Rhododendron Inn remained a beacon for travelers.

Susette’s Determination

Although Emil was gone, Susette Franzetti refused to let the Rhododendron Inn decline. Fluent in seven languages, she managed the business alone for seven more years.

Under her strong leadership, the inn continued attracting visitors. However, by 1923, she decided it was time to move on. She sold the Rhododendron Inn and subdivided much of the surrounding land.

Because of this, many properties in the area became home to Henry Steiner-built log cabins. These structures further enriched the architectural history of the region.

Franzetti Cabins, Rhododendron Oregon. — Franzetti Cabins

The Final Years of the Rhododendron Inn

Following Susette’s departure, the inn passed through multiple owners. Each transition marked a new chapter, but the original spirit of the place remained.

In 1932, a fire destroyed the annex building.
In 1943, new owner Thomas Rex renamed it the Rex Inn.
In 1949, a blowtorch accident caused a fire, reducing the inn to ashes.

Today, the site where the Rhododendron Inn once stood is barely recognizable. It lies just south of the modern highway, near the suspension bridge over the Zigzag River. While no buildings remain, the memories endure.

The Rhododendron Tavern - Emil and Suzette Franzetti — The Rhododendron Tavern

The Lasting Legacy of the Franzettis

The story of Emil and Susette Franzetti is not just about a lost inn. Instead, it stands as a testament to resilience, passion, and the pioneering spirit that shaped Oregon’s early tourism industry.

Though the Rhododendron Inn is gone, its impact remains. The Franzettis’ dedication helped develop the Mount Hood Highway, strengthening Rhododendron’s identity as a premier travel destination.

Next time you pass through Rhododendron, Oregon, take a moment to reflect. Picture the grand inn that once stood among the trees—its dance halls filled with music, fireplaces crackling with warmth, and Emil himself preparing fresh mountain trout for a guest.

Although time has erased the Rhododendron Inn, the spirit of Emil and Suzette Franzetti still lingers in the heart of Mount Hood’s history.

Do You Love Mount Hood History?

If you enjoyed this story, explore more forgotten tales of Oregon’s past on MountHoodHistory.com.

Have memories or stories about the Rhododendron Inn? Share them in the comments below!

Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs

A Lost Piece of Zigzag’s Oregon’s History

A Mysterious Rock Wall and a Forgotten Hotel

Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs – As you drive along the east end of Barlow Trail Road near the confluence of the Sandy and Zigzag Rivers, you may notice an old moss-covered rock wall. Weathered by time and nature, this beautifully crafted basalt and stone wall stands as a silent sentinel to the past. Yet, few—if any—know its origins. A 1920 map already labeled it as an “old rock wall.” Historical accounts mention it as a marker near old bridge brow logs from an original Barlow Trail crossing. But why was it built? What once stood behind those stones?

Piecing together historical maps, newspaper articles, and land records points to one answer: Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs. Built in the early 1910s, this long-forgotten inn lasted only a few years before fire destroyed it. Unlike the well-remembered Welch’s Hotel in Welches, McIntyre’s early hotel, or the Rhododendron Inn, Howard’s Hotel vanished from collective memory. Yet, its story is worth rediscovering.

The Mount Hood Road and the Growth of Tourism

The land where Howard’s Hotel stood was known as Sharon Springs, named after a small, year-round spring that still flows into Clear Creek near the Sandy and Zigzag Rivers. W.R. McGarry originally owned the land and subdivided it in the early 1900s as tourism in the Mount Hood region grew.

This growth followed the expansion of the Barlow Road, a pioneer-era route that later became a toll road. By the early 1900s, it transitioned into an automobile road, drawing more visitors. Travelers sought lodging along the way to Government Camp and Mount Hood’s higher elevations. Hotels and lodges sprang up to serve them.

Seeing an opportunity, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald Howard built a hotel at Sharon Springs, close to the Barlow Road and Mount Hood’s foothills.

Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs: Built for the Boom

Constructed in 1910, Howard’s Hotel was a three-story, 14-room cedar structure. It stood on the north side of the Sandy River along the old north bank road.

From the start, challenges arose. In 1911, a freshet washed away a crucial bridge over the Sandy River near the hotel and damaged two others, the Zigzag River and Bear Creek bridges. Access became difficult, forcing visitors to detour through Brightwood, where J.T. McIntyre had built a bridge.

Plans to rebuild the bridges were made, but the setback likely hurt the hotel’s early success. Meanwhile, competitors like Welch’s Hotel and the Rhododendron Inn thrived with easier access.

The Fire That Erased Howard’s Hotel

On a September night in 1912, disaster struck.

A report in The Oregonian (September 14, 1912) stated:

“The home of Mr. and Mrs. S. Howard, near the junction of Sandy and Zigzag River, in the Mount Hood district, known as the Howard Hotel, was destroyed by fire a few nights ago, and Mrs. Howard, who was alone at the time, barely escaped with her life. Fire started in the lower story from sparks from the fireplace after Mrs. Howard had retired for the night in an upper room.”

Mrs. Howard woke to flames blocking the stairs. Forced to escape through a side window, she fled in her night robe.

The hotel burned completely, with nothing saved. The financial loss ranged from $3,500 to $4,000. With no efforts to rebuild, Howard’s Hotel disappeared from both the landscape and local memory.

Why Has Howard’s Hotel Been Forgotten?

Unlike Welch’s Hotel, the Rhododendron Inn, or McIntyre’s Hotel, Howard’s Hotel lasted barely two years. No surviving photographs or major advertisements recorded its existence. Without a rebuilt structure or continued operation, history left it behind.

Nearby hotels thrived because they became part of a lasting tourism infrastructure. Welch’s Hotel evolved into the town of Welches. Rhododendron and Government Camp grew into permanent tourism hubs. But Howard’s Hotel faded, leaving only the rock wall as a possible clue to its past.

A Call for Further Investigation

The rock wall remains the only visible evidence of Howard’s Hotel. Its basalt and stone construction, multiple entryways, and elevated stone columns suggest more than a simple boundary wall.

Could forgotten records, lost photographs, or hidden remnants beneath the forest floor reveal more?

For now, the story of Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs remains an intriguing historical mystery—one that deserves to be remembered.

Conclusion: Preserving the Lost History of Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs

Howard’s Hotel burned in 1912, but its legacy should not be forgotten. Among the histories of Welches, Brightwood, and Rhododendron, it represents the challenges of early tourism in the Mount Hood wilderness.

Next time you pass through Zigzag, take a moment to consider the rock wall, the spring at Sharon Springs, and the stories hidden beneath the surface.

The past is still there—waiting to be uncovered.

Arrah Wanna Hotel in Wemme Oregon

A History of Arrah Wanna

The Birth of Arrah Wanna Hotel

Nestled in the picturesque surroundings of the Salmon River in Wemme, Oregon, the Arrah Wanna Lodge began its story in 1909 when George Routledge acquired 160 acres of timberland. At the time, the land sat about a mile from the nearest automobile road, making it an ideal mountain retreat.

That same year, the Mount Hood Hotel Company, led by C. W. Kern, J. R. Routledge, and R. Woods, announced plans to construct a Swiss Chalet-style hotel. Kern had previously operated the Welches Hotel for five years. By 1910, construction had begun on an 80 x 90-foot, two-story building with 40 rooms and wide verandas. The hotel featured rough timber finishes, large stone fireplaces, and running water. The estimated construction cost reached $20,000, and the hotel planned to open for the 1910 season.

Early Years and Challenges

Although the hotel was completed, financial struggles soon arose. Nevertheless, its location and design attracted conventions and gatherings, including a YMCA conference in 1916. Despite these successes, ownership changed in 1918 when J. L. Bowman of the Brownsville Woolen Mill Store in Portland purchased the property. Bowman then leased the hotel to Mr. and Mrs. George L. Spencer, who enhanced its reputation as a high-class resort. They introduced specialty meals, such as chicken dinners and the famous “Spencer Hot Gingerbread.” A giant fir tree near the hotel became a major attraction, measuring 41 feet in circumference and 300 feet tall.

A Tragic Fire and Rebirth

On June 5, 1922, tragedy struck when the Arrah Wanna Hotel burned to the ground. Strong winds fanned the flames, reducing the wooden structure to ruins in just 30 minutes. Fortunately, the surrounding cottages and J. L. Bowman’s summer home survived the disaster.

Determined to rebuild, Bowman oversaw the construction of a new hotel by May 1924. The new lodge featured 17 guest rooms and 10 bungalows. Built primarily of native fir with hard maple floors, the hotel also included modern conveniences. An electric plant at the Salmon River provided power, while hot and cold running water improved guest comfort. Traditional activities such as hiking, trout fishing, and berry picking remained popular. Additionally, a boardwalk along the river and new bungalows enhanced the visitor experience.

Growth and Changing Management

John L. Bowman passed away in July 1928. As the president of the Brownsville Woolen Mills, he had played a significant role in the history of the Arrah Wanna Hotel for a decade.

Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, the Arrah Wanna Hotel underwent various management changes and improvements. Advertisements promoted dining options, including their specialty $1.50 chicken dinners with mashed potatoes and gravy. Entertainment such as music, dancing, and campfire gatherings enriched the guest experience. By 1936, the lodge began serving beer under a new license. Despite these efforts, financial difficulties persisted, leading to periodic closures and the hotel being listed for sale or lease.

Oregon Baptist Church Buys Arrah Wanna

In 1941, the lodge entered a new chapter when a Baptist church group purchased the property for $12,750. Their vision was to create a summer camp, leading to the birth of Camp Arrah Wanna. That summer, the camp hosted its first youth retreat. A five-year improvement plan soon followed, adding a Bible house, tabernacle, dining hall, and swimming pool. Over time, the camp became a cornerstone for religious retreats and youth activities in the area.

Into Modern Times

By 1952, a new swimming pool was constructed, and in 1962, $50,000 was allocated for further improvements. Beginning in 1969, Camp Arrah Wanna became one of the locations hosting Portland Public Schools’ Outdoor School program. During this six-day outdoor experience, sixth-grade students learned about science and nature while immersing themselves in the wilderness.

Today, Camp Arrah Wanna remains under the ownership of the American Baptist Churches of the Central Pacific Coast. It serves as a retreat and recreational facility, also hosting conferences and events for various groups.

Legacy of the Arrah Wanna Hotel

From its early days as a luxurious mountain hotel to its transformation into a church camp and community center, the Arrah Wanna Hotel has played a vital role in Oregon’s history. Its scenic location, engaging activities, and mountain lodge charm continue to captivate visitors. As a beloved landmark in the Mount Hood area, its legacy endures, reflecting the rich heritage of the region.

Fires, Fear, and Fighting Back: The Week the Forest Burned Near Mt. Hood

The Forest Fires of October 13-17, 1952

A Dry Season Sparks Trouble

Late in the season, around midnight on October 13, 1952, trouble began in the dry forests surrounding Mt. Hood. Flames appeared south of the Mt. Hood Highway, just east of Rhododendron, near Yocum Falls. As the fire moved down through Laurel Canyon, it stretched toward Flag Mountain. Initially, officials suspected a tree had fallen on a power line, sparking the blaze. However, the Sandy Electric Company suggested that men violating the hunting ban may have started the fire instead of the 33,000-volt power line.

Mt Hood National Forest Fires of October 1952

Fires Spread Across the Region

Meanwhile, a second fire erupted when windblown embers ignited dry vegetation near Still Creek, along the north slope of Zigzag Canyon. As a result, flames threatened summer homes and caused landslides, sending large rocks tumbling toward the Zigzag River. Consequently, firefighters faced an increasingly dangerous situation.

By Tuesday, October 14, another fire had ignited. This time, flames burned up Henry Creek toward Devils Canyon near Rhododendron. Since dry east winds were blowing with typical intensity, they fanned the flames. Therefore, firefighters struggled to contain the rapidly spreading fires.

Road Closures and Evacuations

Due to the growing danger, officials closed the Mt. Hood Highway. Roadblocks went up in Sandy and Bend, allowing only emergency vehicles and buses to pass. As a precaution, traffic had to be rerouted through the Columbia River Gorge or the North Santiam Highway. Firefighters hosed down wooden bridges along the highway while residents sprayed their roofs with water, trying to keep embers at bay. Understandably, people in Rhododendron prepared to evacuate if necessary. The county’s civil defense agency remained on high alert, ready to assist should homes become threatened.

Arson Suspected in Brightwood

By Wednesday, October 15, conditions worsened. A third fire ignited near Brightwood around noon. Flames burned through thick ferns and second-growth timber. Unfortunately, local residents reported seeing two teenage boys speeding away in a blue coupe just before the fire started. Consequently, police issued an alert, but the suspects were never found.

A Threat to Bull Run Watershed

By Thursday, October 16, tensions ran high. The Brightwood fire moved toward the Bull Run watershed, the primary water source for Portland. Since winds carried the flames up Boulder Creek, they brought them dangerously close to Bull Run. Meanwhile, in Rhododendron, a 120-man crew worked tirelessly to build a fire line around the Henry Creek blaze. More than 400 firefighters battled flames across the region. At the same time, at Zigzag Ranger Station, local women volunteered to prepare sandwiches, helping to sustain the exhausted fire crews.

Firefighters Gain Control

Finally, on Friday, October 17, firefighters gained the upper hand. Crews, totaling 700 men, worked around the clock to contain the fires. By this point, the Brightwood blaze alone had consumed between 300 and 400 acres. In total, an estimated 1,200 acres burned before firefighters managed to control the destruction. Despite the progress, northeast winds and low humidity kept everyone on edge, hoping for much-needed rain.

A Community United

In the aftermath, the fires left a lasting impact. However, they also demonstrated the strength of the community. Firefighters risked everything to contain the flames, while residents took action—hosing down homes, preparing food, and offering support. Although the forest would recover, the stories of that harrowing week of the Forest Fires of 1952 would endure for generations.

Preserving the History

These photos are scanned from negatives in my personal collection, capturing the unforgettable events of that historic fire.

Zigzag Cabin Owner: A Local Legend

Portland’s Buffalo Bill – William DeVeny

An Active Community Participant

In the early 1900s, Portland’s Montavilla neighborhood was home to one of its most fascinating figures: Dr. William DeVeny. Known as the “Buffalo Bill of Portland,” William DeVeny was a community leader, civic advocate, and larger-than-life character. His influence stretched beyond Montavilla and into the Mount Hood region, where he worked to improve access to the wilderness.

DeVeny’s striking appearance—long hair, a thick beard, and signature buckskin attire—earned him his nickname. According to some accounts, Buffalo Bill Cody himself gave him the title. Yet, DeVeny was more than just a local icon—he was a man of action.

A Visionary for Montavilla

DeVeny dedicated himself to improving Montavilla. As secretary of the Montavilla Board of Trade, he led efforts to attract new businesses, including a fruit cannery, chair factory, and broom factory. He also pushed for better schools, clean water, and libraries, believing these essentials would help Montavilla thrive.

One of his most ambitious projects was Montavilla’s annexation to Portland. He argued that annexation would bring stronger infrastructure, including deeper water mains to prevent freezing and increased school funding. Although his campaign initially failed, he continued to fight for it.

In 1907, he ran for city council, hoping to create more change. However, his campaign faced controversy when petition collectors submitted duplicate signatures. Though DeVeny did not commit fraud, officials removed his name from the ballot. This setback ended his political aspirations, but not his commitment to the community.

He saw the need for better roads in the region. To improve access, he led the construction of a road connecting the Mount Hood automobile road to Truman Road on the north side of the Sandy River. The project, called DeVeny Road, required the building of several bridges. This new route made travel easier for settlers, forest rangers, and tourists.

Building Roads to Mount Hood

DeVeny’s passion for development extended into the Mount Hood wilderness. He owned a cabin near the mountain, which he called The Scout’s Rest, inspired by Buffalo Bill Cody’s Nebraska ranch.

By 1913, construction was complete. This road became a key link for travelers and helped boost tourism in the Mount Hood region. Eventually, it was renamed Lolo Pass Road, but DeVeny’s work remains a vital part of the area’s history.

A Complex and Evolving Figure

DeVeny’s views changed over time. Once a supporter of military training for boys, he later spoke out against war, particularly as World War I approached. Some believe he changed his stance because his sons became eligible for the draft.

Beyond civic work, DeVeny was a skilled chiropodist (foot doctor) and an accomplished photographer. Alongside his wife, Martha, he operated photography studios before settling in Portland.

He also supported women’s suffrage and equal rights, reflecting a progressive mindset that was ahead of his time.

A Lasting Legacy

Dr. William DeVeny passed away in 1918 at age 65. The Oregonian honored him as a civic leader, community advocate, and friend of famous frontiersmen. His contributions to Montavilla and Mount Hood shaped Oregon’s history in ways still seen today.

Today, hikers in Mount Hood’s forests and residents in Montavilla’s streets walk paths influenced by his work. His life is a powerful reminder of how one determined individual can shape a community’s future.