Phantom Trails of the Santiam Canyon
By J. D. Adams

       Unfolded before me are Willamette National Forest maps from 1937 and
1948, rescued from obscurity with knowledge unleashed like the first beams
of the solstice through the portals of Stonehenge. Here was a world ruled by
trails, where the glacial power of Mt. Jefferson flowed unchallenged through
a towering expanse of old-growth forest. To complete this picture, I have
gathered memories from generations who lived and worked in the historic
landscape of the Santiam canyon.
       The Santiam Highway was a single track, treacherous and forbidding,
perched on the canyon wall where the Detroit Dam is today. The view dropping
off into the canyon is still etched into the minds of old-timers. Turnouts
were few, driving and negotiating skills were honed when two cars had to
pass each other.
       Detroit, originally named logging camp 17, was the hub of an
extensive trail network that connected the Little North Fork with the North
and Middle Santiam drainages. The Volcano Trail came northward from
Quartzville Creek, offering spectacular views as it topped the ridgeline,
descending to Blowout Creek and moving past the old Box Canyon Shelter. One
of the suspension bridges that were used on this trail is still intact. The
Byar’s Peak Trail has been largely bypassed by logging roads, but a faded
tread still exists on the highest, windy reaches of the peak. Rising from a
road now gated on the back streets of Detroit, the old Boulder Ridge Trail
connected the Outerson Mountain Lookout with the Triangulation Peak Lookout,
and continued into what is now the Jefferson Wilderness. The popular Tumble
Creek Trail is a remnant of a route that allowed access to three fire
lookouts and the Opal Lake Trail. Phone lines came down from the many fire
lookouts in the area into Mill City, Detroit, and Idanha.
        The town of Mill City began in 1887 with a sawmill relocated from
Stayton, growing to become one of the largest mills on the west coast. I
remember Mill City in the 50’s as a place of growing families and busy
shops, vibrant with the wealth carried by rumbling log trucks. We lived in a
neighborhood on the southwest edge of town, where houses had been built for
engineers of the Detroit Dam project. The trail from the old Thomas Cairn
Lookout came down almost into our backyard.
        Idanha is an Indian word meaning Spirit of the Healing Waters,
according to Lewis A. McArthur in Oregon Geographic Names. This town was the
eastern terminus of T. Egenton Hogg’s Oregon Pacific Railroad line. The
original name of Idanha was Muskrat Camp, later changed by the owner of a
resort hotel formerly at the site. The name is mysteriously linked to an old
Idan-Ha Hotel and Bottled Mineral Water Company in Soda Springs, Idaho.
       The Santiam River had a trail on the south bank starting at Detroit
that went up as far as Pamelia Creek. From here the Pamelia Lake Trail
forked eastward. According to local legend, pack strings of horses carried
hay bales in to the lake to dam the subterranean outflow and raise the water
level. Also leaving the Santiam, the Minto Mountain Trail zigzagged up to
Grizzly Lake and Lizard Lake, high on the top of Minto Mountain. Early
generations of Oregonians found it a good camping spot with the mountaintop
meadows and spring of water. In the early 1900s this trail merged with the
Skyline Trail; famous author and drama critic Walter Eaton describes a
journey along the trail in the book “Skyline Camps”, c1922. Mountain guide
Dee Wright scouted a northern section of the Skyline Trail, the predecessor
to the Pacific Crest Trail, in 1896. Premier northwest photographer Fred H.
Kiser, who did the photographs for Eaton’s book, also blazed the Skyline
Trail from Mt. Hood to Crater Lake in 1919. Prior to the 1964 designation of
wilderness, you could drive within ½ mile of Marion Lake, where there was a
boathouse, docks, and rustic cabins. Ornithologist Dr. A. G. Prill had a
cabin on the north side of the lake of which only the fireplace hearth
remains.
        Many of these pioneer trails were old Indian trails, some still in
use today. Underneath the Santiam Highway lies an Indian trail, a haunting
presence felt in twilight moments, when past and present merge into the
timelessness of the canyon. In the wind is the sound of a forgotten
traveler, cresting a ridge of long ago.