The Summit of Beacon Rock

You made it — the summit of Beacon Rock, eight hundred and forty-eight feet straight up from where you parked. Catch your breath, and then take in what's around you, because this is one of the great views in the Northwest.

That's the Columbia River below you, the great river of the West, rolling toward the Pacific. Look upstream, to the east, and you can pick out Bonneville Dam and the mountains closing in where the gorge narrows. Downstream, to the west, the river widens toward Portland and Vancouver and, eventually, the sea that Lewis and Clark came all this way to find. Across the water is Oregon, and on a clear day the whole sweep of the gorge — cliffs, forest, and river — lays out in front of you like a map. You are standing on the frozen throat of a volcano, looking out over a canyon carved by ice-age floods. Not a bad spot.

Take your photos, but take them from behind the rail — the drop here is real and it is a long way down. And now, if you've got a few minutes, do this: find yourself a spot up here, out of the wind, and just sit a while. Because Boone has been saving the story of how this impossible trail got built — fifty-two switchbacks and twenty-two bridges up a sheer cliff — and there is no finer place on all the earth to hear that tale than standing on the top of the thing itself. So hang out a minute; he'll tell it to you right here.

When you're ready after that, head back down the same switchbacks; going down, watch your footing and let faster folks pass on the wider turns. Meet me back at the car, because next we're off to a completely different kind of walk — cool, green, and loud with falling water.