mt hood loop highway Archives - Mount Hood History

Government Camp Bears: TMount Hood’s Forgotten Mascots

When Live Bears Entertained Tourists

Bears Were Once a Common Sight at Government Camp

In the 1920s and ’30s, tourists came to Mount Hood for snow, scenery, and rustic lodging. But for a short time, they also came to see the Government Camp bears.

Lodges in Government Camp kept live bear cubs on-site. These animals, often orphaned, were raised by hand and used as attractions. Visitors watched them, fed them treats, and sometimes posed for photos. Today, that might sound outrageous—but back then, it was a novelty.

Keeping bears on chains wasn’t unique to Mount Hood. From East Coast resorts to Western roadside stops, wild animals often entertained guests. Government Camp followed the same trend—with a snowy alpine twist.

The Setting: Government Camp in the Early Days

Government Camp began as a U.S. Cavalry supply dump along the Barlow Road in 1849. By the 1920s, it had grown into a seasonal hub for outdoor recreation. The new Mount Hood Loop Highway brought more visitors, and businesses expanded to meet demand.

The town had cozy lodges, a general store, and rugged charm. Two of the most popular stops were the Government Camp Hotel and the Battle Axe Inn. These places offered a mix of alpine hospitality—and bears.

A Runaway Bear and a Snowy Chase

In January 1927, a full-grown bear escaped from the Battle Axe Inn. The bear, owned by innkeeper E.J. Sickler, broke free from its chain and ran into the woods. Guests and locals tried to catch it, chasing it through the deep snow.

Bill Lenz, a veteran mountaineer, finally ended the chase. He roped the bear and calmly led it back to its enclosure. Newspapers described the event as an unexpected winter adventure. It was the kind of thing that could only happen on Mount Hood.

Teddy First, Then Lindy—and Others

Of all the bears once kept at Government Camp, only two became widely known—Teddy and Lindy. They appeared on postcards, in newspapers, and in the memories of mountain visitors. But they probably weren’t the only bears that lived there.

Teddy was the first. In the mid-1920s, he lived at the Government Camp Hotel. Trained to do tricks and drink soda pop, he became a tourist favorite. People gave him candy and snacks. He entertained visitors, but the treats made him sick and harder to control.

Eventually, Teddy grew too large and unpredictable. The hotel put him down.

They soon bought a new cub—Lindy. She was named after Charles Lindbergh, whose famous flight made headlines in 1927. The hotel hoped she would carry on Teddy’s role as a mascot. But Lindy never learned the same tricks. She had just begun drinking soda from bottles when she also became unmanageable.

Given how common it was in that era to take in orphaned cubs, it’s likely that other bears came and went from the lodges in Government Camp without fanfare. Teddy and Lindy became the best known simply because they were the ones who happened to become the most famous.

Trouble Inside the Hotel

In 1929, a newspaper article reported that both Lindy and Teddy had damaged property inside the Government Camp Hotel. That incident marked the end. Hotel staff euthanized the bear. It was a quiet ending—reported without drama, but with finality.

By then, attitudes were starting to shift. More people were beginning to understand that wild animals, even if raised by hand, don’t belong in hotels.

A Bear for the Movies

At least one bear from Government Camp ended up in a film. In 1927, a movie crew shooting on Mount Hood purchased a bear from the area. The idea of selling a bear to Hollywood might seem odd now, but back then it was business as usual.

The Practice Continued Into the 1930s

Some assume the practice ended with Teddy and Lindy. But a photo in my collection tells a different story. Dated October 31, 1937, the image shows a penned bear in Government Camp. A wooden sign above the enclosure simply says “Bear.”

The fencing is made of logs and wire. A tire toy hangs inside the pen. This shows that bears remained part of the tourist scene at Government Camp even a decade after Teddy’s arrival.

Government Camp Bears: A Lasting Impression

Over the years, I’ve collected many historic photos of these animals. One shows Lindy drinking from a soda bottle. Another captures Teddy on a tree stump. A third shows a cub in front of the Battle Axe Inn. These images offer a glimpse into a time when the line between wild and tame was much thinner.

The Government Camp bears are remembered with a mix of amusement and discomfort. Their stories reveal a strange chapter in Mount Hood’s past—one where animals were both beloved and exploited.

Today, bears live freely in the forests around Mount Hood, as they should. But for a brief moment in history, they were part of the welcome party.

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce: She Killed a Bear With Her Hoe

A Strong Mountain Woman

Pioneer Grit And An Unforgettable Bear Story

I’ve spent a lot of time talking with old-timers and the family members of folks who’ve lived up here in the Mountain Community for years. In one or two conversations, I’d heard tell of a woman who gained local notoriety for killing a bear that invaded her space with a garden hoe. That’s right—a woman killed a bear with a hoe. At the time, I didn’t know much more about her—but I would later learn that her name was Mrs. Eliza A. Pierce, and her story is the stuff of mountain legend. Around here, she’s best remembered as the legendary Mrs. Pierce.

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce and Her Mountain Homestead

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce was no ordinary pioneer. In the early 1900s, she made her home at the junction of the Sandy and Zigzag Rivers near Mount Hood, Oregon. At over 60 years old, she arrived with almost nothing but determination and a 10-acre tract of untamed land in the area known as Sharon Springs.

What followed is hard to imagine. She built her own home, leveled her cabin site with a wheelbarrow, and filled it with earth carried from the upper slope of her property. She constructed a stone foundation by hand, built fences from cedar logs she split herself, and laid out a productive farm with strawberries, potatoes, pigs, goats, and a garden full of flowers—including 125 rose bushes she carefully watered with buckets hauled from a spring.

In later years, she added a springhouse, a chicken coop, and even a plank sidewalk to make water-carrying easier. She engineered drainage channels to redirect flooding and built a potato house to store her harvests through the mountain winters. Her efforts transformed the landscape, and by all accounts, she did every bit of it herself.

A Bear, a Hoe, and a Moment That Became Legend

One spring morning, a black bear chased her neighbor, Mr. Hutchinson, from his nearby cabin. The bear wandered into Mrs. Pierce’s yard while she worked in her garden. Without a rifle nearby, she grabbed her hoe and stood her ground—fighting off and killing the bear before help arrived.

The Legendary Mrs. Pierce didn’t just survive that encounter—she became famous for it. The story was reported in multiple Oregon newspapers. One article even joked that the old standard of “a good dog and a trusty rifle” was no longer necessary, since “everyone can afford a hoe, and bears are plentiful.”

Grit, Heart, and Generosity

Even without the bear story, Mrs. Pierce was remarkable. She lived alone not out of necessity, but by choice. Though she had adult children and money invested in Portland, she stayed on her land because she loved the forest and the work. She said she was “in love with nature” and wanted to do things for herself.

Neighbors admired her independence, but also her generosity. When someone fell ill nearby, she’d be the one to bring remedies. When others were in trouble, she offered help. In one instance, two young men offered to carry her heavy sack of supplies a mile from the road. She accepted the help—but later remarked, only half-jokingly, that she could’ve spanked both of them.

Mrs. Pierce also crafted and sold fine baskets and paintings. And in the quietest, most touching detail of all, she grew flowers to take to her late husband’s grave—making time for tenderness even in the hardest of lives.

Sharon Springs and the Changing Mountain

The land around Mrs. Pierce’s homestead was once part of the Sharon Springs tract, originally owned by W.R. McGarry. She was one of many who purchased land in this area and transformed it into something livable. Other settlers followed—among them Archibald and Nettie Howard, who built the nearby Mount Hood Hotel, and summer residents like the Vanes and the Baileys.

While others relied on hired help to develop their properties, Mrs. Pierce did the work with her own hands. Her land rose in value because of what she built, not what she bought. At one time, her 10-acre tract was valued at $25 per acre. Within a few years, land in the area was selling for $100 or more.

Why The Legendary Mrs. Pierce Still Matters

Even in her own time, The Legendary Mrs. Pierce was admired across Oregon. A 1912 newspaper feature titled “Woman’s Will vs. Nature’s Wilderness” told her story in poetic detail—describing her farm as a triumph of willpower over wildness. Her life was a blend of hard labor and quiet dignity, built not for show, but for survival and meaning.

She didn’t just live in the Mount Hood wilderness—she mastered it. She dug it, planted it, protected it, and made it her own. When we think of pioneers, we often think of names on roads or plaques. But Mrs. Pierce left something just as lasting: a story of what it means to be strong, self-reliant, and deeply rooted in place.

Today, her name might not be on any maps. But ask around long enough, and someone will remember. The woman who killed a bear with a hoe.

For Further Reading

If you’re interested in the people and places that shaped the Mount Hood corridor during Mrs. Pierce’s time, here are a few more stories from the archive:

Howard’s Hotel at Sharon Springs
Learn about the short-lived hotel that once stood near Mrs. Pierce’s land along the Sandy River.
The Rhododendron Inn
Another historic stop along the Mount Hood Highway, with ties to early settlers in the Zigzag area.
Tawney’s Mountain Home
A popular early resort not far from where Mrs. Pierce farmed and built her homestead.
The Modern Barlow Trail Road
A look at the historic immigrant route that evolved into the highway passing just below Sharon Springs.
One of Mrs Pierces neighbors
Dr William DeVany – Mt Hood’s Buffalo Bill

Henry and Fred Steiner Deaths in the Mount Hood Forest

A Loss on The Mountain: The Deaths of Henry and Fred Steiner

Tragedy Beneath the Tall Trees

Henry Steiner was known throughout the Mount Hood region as a master builder of log homes. He and his wife, Mollie, raised their family in Brightwood, where Henry built dozens of rustic cabins that still stand today. His sons, including Fred, learned the trade from him and often worked alongside him. The Henry and Fred Steiner deaths in 1953 would mark one of the darkest moments in the community’s history, but by then, the “Steiner cabin” had already become a local hallmark of hand-built timber construction—steep-roofed, river-stone anchored, and shaped by hand rather than machine.

In the spring of 1953, the Henry and Fred Steiner deaths cast a long shadow over the Mount Hood community. Henry, a master cabin builder, vanished into the forest near Brightwood. Days later, his son Fred—who had traveled north from California to help find him—drowned in the river during the search. Their story is one of family, legacy, and quiet tragedy in the same forests where the cabins they built still stand.

The Disappearance of Henry Steiner

On Tuesday, April 7, 75-year-old Henry Steiner vanished from the wooded land near his home in Brightwood, Oregon. Though elderly, he remained active and independent. At first it was thought that he left to simply walk the forest trails he knew so well. When he failed to return, concern grew quickly.

State police, Clackamas County deputies, U.S. Forest Service crews, and Brightwood locals mounted a widespread search across the steep, forested terrain near Mount Hood. By Thursday, they had ruled out the possibility that he had taken a bus to visit family. All signs pointed to something having gone wrong in the woods.

Fred Steiner’s Search and Sacrifice

Fred Arthur Steiner, age 39, was working as a logger in Eureka, California when he learned of his father’s disappearance. He returned home to Brightwood to help with the search.

On Saturday, April 11, Fred set out with his brothers to search along the Sandy and Salmon Rivers. He entered the fast-moving water in a rubber life raft, with a rope attached to shore for safety. As he reached the confluence near Salmon River, the raft overturned in the rough current.

Fred could not swim, and despite the rope, he was swept downstream nearly a mile. Witnesses, including his brother John Steiner and brother-in-law Pat Carey, could do nothing. Cliff Finnell of Brightwood recovered Fred from the water after roughly 20 minutes. The Sandy Fire Department tried to revive him using an inhalator. He was rushed to Providence Hospital in Portland, where he was pronounced dead on arrival.

Discovery of Henry Steiner’s Body

Three weeks later, on Sunday, April 26, Henry Steiner’s body was discovered along Hackett Creek, about 1½ miles northeast of Brightwood. Two people—Otto Laur of Brightwood and Lynn Fuller of Portland—were inspecting Fuller’s summer cabin when they came across the scene.

Henry had apparently sat down to rest on a stump, perhaps fatigued or disoriented, and fallen backward. His cane was still propped against the stump when his body was found. The Clackamas County Coroner, Ray Rilance, reported no sign of foul play. The cause of death was assumed to be a heart attack. His body was taken to the Holman, Hankins & Rilance Funeral Home in Oregon City.

Remembering the Henry and Fred Steiner Deaths

Henry Steiner was more than a builder—he was an artist in wood and stone. His cabins, known today as Steiner Cabins, grace the slopes of Mount Hood with steep-pitched roofs, peeled-logs, arched doorways, Sunray decoration above the front door, and basalt fireplaces pulled from local creeks or built by local stonemason George Pinner. He blended Old World technique with Northwest sensibility.

Fred, a logger by trade, shared his father’s connection to the forest and deep sense of family. He died doing what many hope they would have the strength to do—trying to bring a loved one home.

The Henry and Fred Steiner deaths marked one of the most tragic chapters in the history of the Mount Hood corridor. But the cabins still stand, warmed by fires in hearths they built, nestled in groves they once walked. And in those woods, their legacy quietly remains.

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.

Billy Welch Welches Oregon

Billy Welch: The Heart and Soul of Welches, Oregon

A Young Pioneer – Billy Welch Welches Oregon

Billy Welch Welches Oregon – In the shadow of Mount Hood, where the Salmon River winds through a valley rich in history, the legacy of William “Billy” Welch remains deeply embedded in the land he called home. Billy Welch was more than just a homesteader — he was a community builder, a businessman, and a generous soul whose efforts helped shape the town that bears his family name.

Billy Welch was born on December 24, 1866. At the age of 16, he moved with his father, Samuel “Uncle Sam” Welch, to the Salmon River Valley. In 1882, they each claimed 160 acres of land and built a homestead. Over time, their property expanded to 1,000 acres.

Life on the Welch Ranch

The Welch ranch was a self-sufficient farm with pastures, barns, livestock, orchards, and a vegetable garden. Moreover, the nearby hills provided ample game. In addition, the Salmon River, which runs through the land, was teeming with fish. Billy continued to run the property as a ranch. Billy married Mamie Kopper in 1902 but Mamie died in 1903. Their daughter Lutie “Welch” Bailey was a resident of the area until her death.

Building a Community

Billy cared deeply about the growing settlement. In 1886, with neighbor Firmer Walkley, he claimed a one-acre plot at the junction of the Barlow Road and the road to Welches. They used this land to build the first Welches School. As a result, this early investment in education showed Billy’s dedication to the families establishing roots in the valley.

After Samuel’s death in 1889, Billy inherited the land and continued to develop the property. Not long after, tourists seeking respite from the city began arriving. Therefore, Billy responded by adapting the ranch to welcome them.

Welches Becomes a Destination

By 1905, the property was leased to Clinton “Linny” Kern and a Mr. Wrenn as a hotel resort. To keep up with demand of the tourists that were coming, Billy expanded the facilities. He added a dining hall, a dance hall, a store and a post office near the Welches Hotel. As demand increased, he also added tent cabins throughout the area. Billy took the hotel and property back from Kern and Wrenn in 1909.

In addition to running the resort, Billy remained focused on the growing community. In fact, he often supported neighbors and welcomed guests, making the Welch homestead a hub of local life. Furthermore, his hospitality created lasting memories for the many visitors who lived there or those who passed through.

A Life Full of Laughter and Music

People remember Billy as a jolly soul — good-natured, generous, and full of humor. He played the fiddle and hosted Saturday night dances that would sometimes last through the night, which were popular with both locals and visitors. These lively events took place in the dance hall above his store. There are stories told how the whole building seemed to rock while everyone danced to Billy and his fiddle and the occasional volunteer on the piano. The hall had an east-facing balcony. From there, guests cooled off and enjoyed moonlit views of Hunchback Mountain.

Billy also loved the outdoors. He was an avid hunter who relied on his hounds to flush out deer. Notably, his favorite dog, Leader, was a loyal companion on many trips. It’s common to see his dog next to him in photos. Whether he was playing music, greeting visitors, or roaming the forest with his dogs, Billy lived life with energy and joy.

A Strong Partnership

In April 1911, Billy married Jennie Faubion. She was the daughter of local homesteaders William and Anna Faubion. Together, Billy and Jennie managed the resort, store, post office, and dance hall. Jennie played a vital role in the operation and success of their ventures.

As Welches attracted more visitors, Billy began selling small plots of land to regular campers. Consequently, these families built summer cabins and returned year after year. This trend marked the beginning of Welches as a seasonal destination for recreation and relaxation that still exists today.

Over time, the town grew. Thanks to the couple’s efforts, Welches developed a strong reputation as a friendly, welcoming place. It became a destination loved by visitors and settlers alike. In many ways, their teamwork laid the foundation for the community spirit that still exists today.

Miss Jennie Faubion before she married Billy

Leaving a Legacy

In 1928, Billy leased part of his land to Ralph Waale, who constructed a nine-hole golf course and operated it until 1939. Eventually, after Waale stepped away, Billy and Jennie resumed control and managed the golf course until 1942.

Billy also served as the first postmaster of Welches, from 1905 until 1940. Through his service, he helped the growing community stay connected with the wider world. His work laid the foundation for the town’s lasting success. Additionally, after Billy passed, Jennie continued in this role until 1960. Her contributions further strengthened the continuity and spirit of the town.

Lutie Welch Baily, Billy Welch and Jennie Welch

A Lasting Memory

Billy Welch passed away on October 30, 1942. The land he helped develop eventually became a resort featuring a world-class golf course with sweeping views in all directions. Today, it remains a popular destination that continues to welcome visitors. Now known as The Mt. Hood Resort, it still sits in the same scenic valley that Billy and his father once called home.

Even though the cedar shake cabins and dance halls have almost faded, Billy’s name and spirit live on in Welches. He was more than a pioneer — he was the heart and soul of a community that still thrives in the shadow of Mount Hood.

Ultimately, Billy Welch’s legacy is one of vision, opportunity, connection, and joy. It serves as a reminder that one person’s dedication can shape an entire region for generations to come.

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!