The Princess of Washougal

It is always pleasant to find interesting stories and histories in places we travel. One such saga comes from the small town of Washougal, Washington on the banks of the Columbia River. We passed through after an adventure on the Oregon Coast, spending only one night in Washougal. It wasn't much, but enough to give me a small taste for the setting of this story. 

Across the Columbia River from Washougal is the imposing figure of Mount Hood. This snow-capped dome is mesmerizing and attracts the gaze no matter where you are. The banks of the river are fertile, providing feed for deer and other wildlife. Nearby in the Cascade Mountains are several waterfalls, most of them much less known than their counterparts on the Oregon side of the river. Washougal is considered a gateway to the Columbia River Gorge. 

Washougal is located across the Columbia River from Mount Hood.

Before arrival of Europeans the lower Columbia River was occupied by several different bands of Chinook-speaking Indians. Early explorers classified them as Cascade Peoples. These indigenous groups thrived off salmon from the river. 

This is where our story begins. 

Richard and Betsy (White Wing) Ough.

The leader of the Cascade Indians in this area was a man by the name of Chief Schulyhus. He came from royal lineage. Early Europeans called him “Sly Horse” because they couldn't pronounce his name. His wife, Running Fawn, was from the tribe whose village was in the location of present-day Washougal. 

To this union was born a daughter they named White Wing. I couldn't find much on White Wing's childhood, other than the obvious fact that if her father was a chief, then that made her a princess. It is said of her father that he “held the Cascades and the salmon fisheries on the Columbia River.” 

Washougal is a gateway to the Columbia River Gorge.

One day around 1832, White Wing and her father were catching salmon on the river. She paddled while her father lanced them with a spear. As the story goes, when they looked up they saw, “oh so many canoes coming and lots of white men in them.” They quickly paddled to shore where they considered killing the new intruders. 

One of them, a big man named McLoughlin, stepped forward and said, “No fight. We want to trade. You go and bring plenty good skins and see all the nice things I will give you for them. I got all pretty things what Indians like.” 

This man was Dr. John McLoughlin, a fur trader and officer of the Hudson's Bay Company stationed at Fort Vancouver. But it was the gentleman standing next to him that caught White Wing's attention. He was big also, standing at six foot two and weighing 240 pounds. And he “looked so nice!” His name was Richard Ough. 

Apparently the enchantment was mutual. The two couldn't keep their eyes off one another. Richard wanted to follow White Wing, but didn't in fear of losing his scalp. 

Fertile land as it may have appeared when the Cascade Indians called this home.

A month passed and Richard couldn't get White Wing out of his mind. He mustered the courage to return to the village. Here, it is said, he spent eight days haggling with Chief Schulyhus to take his daughter in marriage. Finally the chief gave in on the condition that he build her a house on the river and stay in the area for all time. 

Richard Ough didn't waste any time. The next day he summoned “100 Indian canoes” and began work on a small log cabin. This cabin was built near Fort Vancouver, which is down-river from present-day Washougal. 

The couple was married, with John McLoughlin performing the ceremony. He used the moment to seal peace between the two groups: “White Wing, this man is a big warrior and a good man. When I make you marry him, the red man and the white man will be brothers. They must live all the time in peace and never fight each other. The Indian must catch plenty salmon and get lots of good furs and trade them to the white man. The white man must get plenty things the Indian likes and always trade fair and never cheat the Indian." 

After many festivities which included singing, dancing, eating, jigging and giving gifts, the couple moved into their little cabin. It was here that they began raising a family. This was the beginning of a relationship that would last more than 50 years. During that time, Richard would call his new wife “Betsy.” 

Roughly eight years later, it was recommended that they move upriver where they could build a house and raise a farm. They bought a piece of land on the north bank of the Columbia River from a struggling Englishman for $45, a saddle horse, and a "baking of bread." This was on the location of present-day Washougal. They were the first settlers on record to have lived there. 

Betsy was known the rest of her life for her generosity. There's a story of a family passing through with two young babies. The mother was too sick to take care of them, so the Ough family took them in for a week to help her recover. On their way out, they gave them the family cow so the young girls could have milk. Betsy always referred to the babies as her "cowgirls."

Betsy and Richard spent the rest of their days in Washougal. She was known as a pioneer doctor and was designated as the community midwife. She also owned many acres of land, which was uncommon in those days for women. Richard and Betsy sold much of their land in what would eventually become the city of Washougal. 

Betsy died around the age of 100 (she didn't know her exact age). She and her husband were buried in the local cemetery. 

Parker's Landing.

Washougal is a laid-back town. Everything seems to slow down a notch on the north side of the river. Our hotel was located near Parker's Landing, just off the bank of the river. This was the location of White Wing's tribal village. 

Parker's Landing is a good place for pedestrians and anyone wanting to sit down and enjoy the breeze. There's a dock, park benches, and grass. From here there is a good view of Mount Hood on the other side of the river. Mount Hood is the tallest peak in Oregon and fourth highest in the Cascades. It is an active volcano, with occasional bits of steam escaping its vents. 

My family was kind enough to let me drive them to another cemetery. We drove north on a quiet street, past the high school, and to a point roughly between the Washougal River and Campen Creek. I'm sure that it looked much different a century ago. 

It didn't take long to find the burial plot for the Ough family. The headstone for Richard had fallen over and had recently been propped back up with a metal brace. Three large cracks revealed where the headstone had broken. Nearby we found the headstone of their daughter, Elizabeth Dunn. Surprisingly, however, there is no grave marker for Betsy. 

Burial plot for Ough family.  There is no headstone for Betsy.

Grave of Richard Ough.

Grave of Elizabeth Dunn, daughter of Richard and Betsy.

I had suspected this from my research, but it still baffled me. I supposed that Betsy White Wing Ough was some sort of historical celebrity in Washougal. But maybe not. I would have thought that by now her descendants, or the city, would have banded together to place a large memorial over her grave. Perhaps someday that will happen. 

I think there is hope. Our travels led to one more place that is attempting to preserve the legacy of Betsy White Wing. 

We left the cemetery and drove down Main Street. I have never seen a Main Street so quiet and dead. No one was out. We turned right, and then another right, and came to another empty road—C Street. We parked in front of the city library. 

On a wall facing the street was painted a large mural: seven white egrets, six of them flying through the sky; five woven baskets sitting on the ground. In the background are clouds, trees, and Native American designs. At the bottom it reads: “Dedicated to Betsy White Wing.” 

The 9 x 25-foot mural was created in 2019 by Toma Villa, an internationally renowned artist from the Yakama Nation. The birds represent White Wing with her grace and beauty. Seven is a significant number in Columbia river longhouses. The birds face east, which is the way the wind blows on the river. The baskets accentuate White Wing as a weaver. 

The artist was inspired by a quote from Richard Ough when describing his feelings for the young princess: “…he thought he could see White Wing in the clouds and in the forest and in his dreams. He said, 'Come pretty bird and fly with me, for I am lonely, and my nest is empty.'” 

View of the Columbia River from Parker's Landing in Washougal, Washington.

For someone just passing through town, I felt I had learned quite a bit about the Princess of Washougal. We drove east on the Lewis and Clark Highway, passing green fields on the bank of the river. In my mind I thought that perhaps this is what it looked like in the early 1800's when White Wing lived in her village. 

As we continued into the Columbia River Gorge, we left Washougal behind—but never will I leave behind the love story of Richard Ough and his White Wing Princess. ♠

 

Mural dedicated to Betsy White Wing, painted by Toma Villa. Located at the city library in Washougal.

 

 

 

Oregon Road Trip: 8 Days; 6 States; 2,362 Miles

This would be the longest road trip we had ever taken as a family. I was excited, but a little apprehensive about having to spend so much time in the car. It proved to be one of our most memorable vacations ever. We didn't do anything extraordinary—like go to amusement parks or baseball games. Instead we kept it simple and saw some stunning landscapes. Every day was an adventure! 

Mormon Crickets.

Plague of Mormon Crickets: Day 1; Middle of Nowhere, Nevada; 302 miles. This was one of the most disgusting things I had seen in my life! At first we thought dirt had blown onto the highway, but upon closer examination we discovered the dirt was crawling! We had to stop to truly get a grasp of what we were witnessing. All around us for miles—on the road, on the hills—crawled millions of crickets! It is interesting that they all seemed to be instinctively migrating the same direction. On the highway, many of them had been plastered onto the pavement by passing traffic (which wasn't much). It was a sight that had to be seen to be believed, and I was very grateful that I wasn't a pioneer trying to eek out a living and planting crops.

Austin, Nevada.

Ghost town of Austin: Day 1; Austin, Nevada; 340 miles. With the nickname of “The Loneliest Road in America,” it is no surprise that U.S. Route 50 is home to some quaint little ghost towns. Nestled among the foothills of the Toiyabe Mountains, Austin is an old mining town with lots of boarded up and empty buildings. In 1863, Austin boasted a population of 10,000 people, but now there are less than 200. We spent about an hour here, walking along Main Street, driving up to Stokes Castle, and roaming through one of four fascinating cemeteries.

 

Reno, Nevada.

The Biggest Little City in the World: Day 1; Reno, Nevada; 513 miles. This was our first time ever in Reno. I was excited to see what the mini-Las Vegas would look like. We enjoyed our walk along the Trukee River, which runs through the middle of town. But my first impressions of Reno: dirty and sketchy—just like Las Vegas.

  

Doyle, California.

Small white church: Day 2; Doyle, California; 555 miles. I honestly don't know a thing about this little building. As we drove down Highway 395, I spotted a small white wooden church with a picket fence around it. Short steps led to the front entrance and a white wooden cross sat perched on top. It looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie. And to boot, it was next to a cemetery.

 

Burney Falls.

Burney Falls: Day 2; Cascade Mountains, California; 676 miles. This was my first time traveling through the Cascades and I wasn't disappointed. No one else was, either. The kids were surprised when they first set eyes upon the mighty waterfall. One hundred and twenty nine feet high and two hundred and fifty wide. It is indeed impressive. We walked the 1.3 mile-loop that circumvents the falls. Burney Falls was a detour from our route, but it was well worth it.

 

Clam Beach.

First view of the Pacific Ocean: Day 2; Clam Beach, California; 884 miles. We thought we'd never make it. The drive between Redding and Arcata was beautiful, but a very curvy road. But at last we made it to the beach! It wasn't at all what we expected. We found a super strong wind blowing from the sea and a very rugged coast line—choppy waves, wind-swept sand, drift logs and icy-cold water. Hills clad with pine trees rose in the distance. Right away we knew our June vacation would have no sunbathing or dips in the ocean.

Redwood Forest.

Walking with giants: Day 3; Redwood Forest, California; 915 miles. Our first contact with these massive trees came at Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. I was surprised at how few visitors we encountered. It felt as if we had the forest to ourselves. For over three miles we wandered along moss-lined trails beneath an impressive canopy of redwood trees. It is difficult to comprehend until you've actually been there. It was like wandering through a fantasy-land, where we could expect elves and hobbits to pop out at any time. There is a tame herd of Roosevelt elk near the entrance of the park. Prairie Creek is one of many places a visitor could go. Whatever you do, you need to get out and walk to truly gain the experience.

Smith River.

Chilling by the river: Day 3; Smith River, California; 949 miles. The Smith River is named after Jedediah Smith, the first European to explore this area by a route other than sea. We drove through an impressive redwood grove with lots of camping spots and picnic tables. Our stop here was completely spontaneous, as we were looking for someplace else. But it turned out to be a pleasant intermission. We chilled by the river and occasionally rolled up our pant legs and waded in. The kids had fun finding flat rocks and skipping them across the water.

Macklyn Cove.

Macklyn Cove: Day 3; Brookings, Oregon; 973 miles. At last in Oregon! Although we had a beach near our hotel, we chose someplace else for our first sandy spot. Macklyn Cove is more on the secluded side. The easiest route to get there included parking on a steep and narrow dead-end road, then walking down a flight of stairs. This place didn't disappoint. We found sandy stretches, as well as rocky coves. We spent a couple hours, wading in the ice-cold water and exploring the shoreline. Then we watched the sun go down and silhouette the cliffs that rose above the water.

Harbor at Brookings, Oregon.

Harbor walk: Day 4; Brookings, Oregon; 973 miles. I've always dreamed of spending an extended period of time out at sea on a small fishing boat. This morning—while everyone else slept— I walked to the harbor and gave myself a tour. A low fog hung over the port. In the early morning, the still water reflected an image of vessels and their masts. I walked along the dock and admired the character of each ship, most of them old and rusty, each with a unique name that tied it to the sea.

Tide pool at Lone Ranch Beach.

Searching for sea creatures: Day 4; Lone Ranch Beach, Oregon; 978 miles. The fog still hung low as we pulled into the parking area at Lone Ranch Beach, with hills of spruce behind a wide stretch of sand. Although devoid of spectacular sea stacks like many of the other beaches, this shoreline is abundant in tide pools. We removed our shoes and braved the chilly water to get a closer look at all the marine life clinging to the rocks. We found starfish, anemone, mussels, and a variety of colorful shells.

Lunch at Arch Rock.

Lunch with a view: Day 4; Arch Rock, Oregon; 986 miles. This stretch along Highway 101 is arguably the most scenic in all of Oregon. We could have spent all day exploring hidden coves and picturesque beaches. Since time was of the essence, however, we had to pick and choose, unfortunately bypassing several places. With the exception of a few meals, we always bought our food at a grocery store and ate outside or in our hotel. The view point at Arch Rock provided picnic tables, along with a fantastic vantage point to observe some of the sea stacks.

Coos Bay, Oregon.

Dinner by the bay: Day 4; Coos Bay, Oregon; 1,080 miles. Coos Bay has always been one of those places that has stuck out on a map, calling me to come. And on this day, we finally came. But it began a bit rocky when I made a U-turn, not knowing I was on a one-way street, and for a small moment, risked the lives of our entire family! Unbeknownst to me, Coos Bay does not sit next to the Ocean, but is inland a few miles, next to a bay. (Imagine that!) We ate fish and chips—and other fish food—on the boardwalk next to the bay. Several boats are docked there, including a boat / museum.

Oregon sand dunes.

Sand Dunes: Day 5; Florence, Oregon; 1,130 miles. We didn't plan on stopping here, but I took a serendipitous left-hand turn off the 101 and fifteen minutes later we were looking over a beautiful stretch of shoreline with deep-blue ocean on one side, and a never-ending mound of fine sand on the other. I never would have imagined sand dunes in Oregon, but here they were. I think this would have been a fun family beach had it been twenty degrees warmer. Instead, we waded in shallow water until our feet turned to popsicles, then dried them off on the warm sand.

Heceta Head Lighthouse.

Heceta Head Lighthouse: Day 5; Lane County, Oregon; 1,148 miles. Coming around the bend from Sea Lion Point, just before passing Devils Elbow, a very photogenic lighthouse comes into view, perched on the distant cliffs. I wasn't sure if we would stop here, but once I saw it, it was too enticing not to. The Heceta Head Lighthouse is a beautiful red and white structure built in 1893 and named after the Basque Explorer, Bruno de Heceta. The beam can shine for 21 nautical miles, making it the most visible light on the Oregon Coast. Closer to the lighthouse you can park near the beach and hike there on a paved trail.

View from our hotel.

Room with a view: Day 5; Newport, Oregon; 1,185 miles. Just being an average family, we usually can't afford a hotel on the beach. But this time we splurged. Upon arrival we found our room to have a superb view of Nye Beach, complete with balcony and chairs. Especially with the cold weather, it was pleasant to merely sit on the balcony and enjoy the vista. At night we watched the ships slowly move across the dark waters, and to the north of us the rotating beam of a lighthouse.

Yaquina Bay Bridge.

Run on the beach: Day 6; Newport Oregon; 1,185 miles. I had to take advantage of the long stretch of beach below our hotel. I woke up before anyone else and jogged south along the sandy coast, just feet from the incoming waves. Near the mouth of the Yaqina River I ran up and over dunes of sand and along a trail toward the bridge. The Yaquina Bay Bridge is a beautiful piece of architecture with several steel arches.

Chowder Bowl at Depoe Bay, Oregon.

Chugging oysters: Day 6; Depoe Bay, Oregon; 1,198 miles. When looking for whales at Depoe Bay became fruitless, we decided to peruse the shops along the main road (Highway 101). We bought some tasty kettle corn, watched salt water taffy being made, and found a good gift shop. Then we decided to step foot into the Chowder Bowl. When I saw the oyster cocktail on the menu, I knew I had to try it. When the raw shellfish came served in a shot glass, I had to ask how to eat it. (This was an embarrassment to my family and is a result of living a deprived life in the desert.) The waitress was so excited to teach me that she ran in back and grabbed a shot for herself! She instructed that first you drizzle it with Tabasco sauce, then you douse it with lemon juice. Then you down it in one gulp. That simple. On the count of three, and after a toast, (and with the entire restaurant looking on) we successfully consumed our oyster cocktails. At least two people filmed us and afterward I received an ovation. Probably the closest I will ever come to becoming a celebrity.

Mount Hood as seen from across the Columbia River.

View of Mount Hood: Day 6; Washougal, Washington; 1,320 miles. Just over the border from Oregon, and a few miles east of Vancouver, Washington is the small town of Washougal. I am glad we decided to spend the night here. It has a very rural feel to it, and seems a hundred miles away from the din of Portland. We lodged near the Columbia River, with a view of Mount Hood across the waters. We enjoyed sunset over the river and listened to a powerful thunderstorm move in overnight.

Columbia River Gorge.

Cape Horn Lookout: Day 7; Columbia River Gorge, Washington; 1,329 miles. The Columbia River is something to be revered. This mammoth waterway is the fourth largest river in the United States and discharges more water into the Pacific Ocean than any other river in the Americas. You can either drive it on the Oregon side or the Washington. I'm happy we chose the Washington side. I believe it is much less popular, yet just as spectacular.

Panther Creek Falls.

Cascades in the Cascades: Day 7; Panther Creek Falls, Washington; 1,366 miles. On this day it was my goal to see some beautiful waterfalls—and that we did! Our first waterfall we accessed by walking through a cemetery. The second we walked a short distance up on canyon, not far off the road. The third—and my favorite—required a twelve-mile drive deeper into the mountain range. Then we set out on foot through a thick forest, down to the bottom of a ravine. That put us face-to-face with Panther Creek Falls. As you can see from the picture, it is very impressive.

Upper Perry Arch Bridge, Oregon.

Upper Perry Arch Bridge: Day 7; Union County, Oregon; 1,590 miles. This stop was purely serendipitous. We crossed back into Oregon and surprisingly passed through a beautiful forest, which I believe is part of the Blue Mountains. It is right off the Old Oregon Trail. What we found was an arched bridge that spans over the Grande Ronde River and railroad tracks. The bridge is of an historical nature (built in 1924), but for us it was just a fun place to get out and stretch our legs. We crossed the railroad tracks and walked down to the water.

Shoshone Falls.

Shoshone Falls: Day 8; Twin Falls, Idaho; 1,894 miles. I have wanted to see this for a long time. Sometimes referred to as Niagara of the West, Shoshone Falls is an impressive cascade along the Snake River in Idaho. Even though water levels were high from a heavy snowfall this winter, I was worried that the falls might not be up to capacity. The size of the falls depends on the amount of water released from the Milner Dam, 24 miles up-stream. Indeed we weren't disappointed. The falls flowed at 85% of capacity and we enjoyed the view from the top with dozens of other people.

Harrisville Park, Utah.

Harrisville Park: Day 8; Harrisville, Utah; 2,072 miles. By this time, we were anxious to get home. Our drive today would be over nine hours. We found a small park with a pond where we pulled over to eat lunch. Although we had never been to this particular park before, it felt good to be in familiar territory with the Wasatch Mountains reigning in the background.

Home sweet home!: Day 8; Somewhere in Utah; 2,362 miles. ♠