Dixie Mountain Summit

Freight transit by water required multiple costly portages. The Tualatin River has impassable cataracts at the mouth. Even after joining the Willamette, boats are upstream of the falls with no canal bypass at the time. 

The only way to get goods out of the valley was to cart them over a mountain. But what route? Any dock on the Columbia, the lower Willamette or Multnomah channel would be acceptable. 

Many river communities, seeing the economic benefits of becoming a key shipping hub built roads over the Tualatin Mountains. Today's roads like Springville, Germantown, and Rocky Point trace their names and lineage back to failed port cities of the pioneer era.

Dixie Mountain has a similar story: A road that connected the Tualatin Valley to Scappoose. One big problem: Dixie is the highest point of the whole Tualatin Mountain range. It is literally the worst route to take to the sea.

That didn't stop the road from getting built nor farmers from settling along the route. That led to another big problem: mail service. At the time, mail had to be collected at the post office in person. The nearest office was a harrowing trip down to either Scappoose or Glencoe (now North Plains).

The only sensible thing to do was to start their own post office, despite having no center, community, stores, or schoolhouses. Instead, the "office" was the farm of one of the prominent residents.

For those of you concerned about a place named "Dixie" founded during the Reconstruction: don't worry! As was fashionable at the time, the first postmaster, John Dix, named it after himself. Apparently Dixville and Dixton were already taken.

In any event, the name stuck and the road has remained a passible (yet unpopular) connector between WashCo and Scappoose ever since. Nowadays, the main traffic is logging and isolated residents.

This ride retraces the steps of the first farmers from North Plains to the Dixie Mountain summit, over 1000 feet and 15 miles. Starting from Mayes Park, I head north until the road goes to gravel. 

Dixie Mountain road used to go all the way to the summit but after a washout on McKay Creek, I have to take Collins Road around the Bamboo Garden.

After a fairly steep and unrelenting climb, the road flattens out to rollers (short ups and downs) and I arrive at the Dixie Mountain Grange then the cemetery.

The grange used to have a strawberry festival every spring but shut down before Covid. It recently reopened and has monthly meetings and craft nights. If you're interested in joining, they maintain an active Facebook account.

I continue to the very top, where Dixie Mountain (gravel) meets Rocky Point Road (paved). This is the summit of the Tualatin Mountains but all I can see is a heavily forested cell phone tower. I head west along the ridge toward the post offices.

Yes, officies, over the years, Dixie post office moved a few times. Here's the application from 1895:

And here's the field where that office used to be:

There's a lot of clearcutting in the area, too. Strangely it offers some of the best views:

The most important feature on Dixie today is the Doppler radar tower. One of the only three stations in Oregon. If you don't like the weather forecast, blame Dixie.

I finally arrive at the site of the original post office at this crossroads on the ridge. There are no remnants left.

I turn around here. If I go any further, I'll cross into Columbia County (boo! hiss!).  While I'm quick to ride up gravel, I find the low traction unnerving when careening downhill. I take Skyline to Moreland, the safer descent. Besides, I can stop at Mason Hill Orchard on the way.

I bike there about once a week for 5lbs bag of apples (though in an apple emergency, I can carry home at least 20 lbs). They are a farm stand (no u-pick) which is perfect for a quick stop-by. 

Mark, one of the owners, is an avid cyclist and is happy to recommend routes to me (yes, I still need to ride to Laurelwood and summit Bald Peak).

With apples in hand, it's easy, mostly flat riding back to North Plains. Dixie was a collection of homesteads that banded together to make their lives easier. The area hasn't changed much in the intervening 150 years. It remains a sleepy corner of the county close to its farm and timber roots. It also makes a pretty good gravel cycle.