Skamania Lodge: Hiking Wind Mountain and Finding Community

 Endless Winter: the Pacific Northwest’s foggy-damp dreamscape film, and I’m the star. I imagine myself a Twilight Blond Bella, just as forlorn, slightly better at acting (I pretend) rolling out in her Jeep Wrangler across a frozen Tundra (Highway 97) past a ghost Town (Shaniko) through the wind mill monolith passage of Dufur to the wide, nearly impassible Columbia Gorge. 

I teeter on the Edge; to the East a vast and barren desert land and to the West a progressively verdant and increasingly poisonous canyon fernland. I turn Left, drifting into place amongst a stream of semis. 84 to the Bridge of The Gods. No wind today, smooth sailing. 

I am Skamania bound. In the three years I have spent pilgrimaging solo to this resort, I have dubbed it “Ska- Mania” a comedic moniker, a familiar tune, a place that inspires its own rhythm. 

Let me explain. I first got a call after a solo hike along the coast. “Would I become a storyteller for Skamania?” I was certainly living a story, I was set to have surgery in a week to remove pre cancerous cells from my cervix. TMI, but it's how I got here.  I was really mad because any hike at the time caused me to bleed. I felt defeated. 

“Renee’, we want you to come to a wellness retreat and tell your story, we want you to know about Skamania and write about this special place.” I sat there, nearly in tears, did the universe really offer me a retreat the week after surgery? I agreed. 

I drove, solo, to Skamania for the first time. I was tired, still in recovery garments from surgery, with limitations ... .but a free pass to do small hikes and gentle yoga. 

This is now my fourth time back. 

Two times I have been to Skamania for yoga retreats, the first gentle and restorative. The second was outside on the property, getting to know the trails and trees. Last year I attended my first “Creators Summit” a gathering of other Pacific Northwest Creators so that we can connect and learn from each other, share incredible experiences, and help write the story of The Gorge. 

I have had the awesome honor to get to know individuals and businesses in The Columbia Gorge on both the Oregon and Washington side. One thing I love to hear is “Can we talk Gorge for a moment” followed by “do you know so and so” followed by recent hikes. The Gorge is a strong, interconnected network of very cool people. 

This trip is a combination of all of the above: a wellness retreat for creators! Wow, I didn’t know how deeply I needed this time to “talk shop” (there is NO creator handbook) and also get the chance to do my favorite thing in the world: be creative, and be creative with others! 

Also, and maybe most importantly? I needed a hike.

Now, I’ll be honest with you. The day of any trip I regret that I have signed up to leave my house. I’m a homebody at heart, which is why I challenge myself…and this is my first solo trip in 10 months.

I was traveling for work when someone broke into the house I was in and pulled a gun out. It’s been settled and everyone is ok, including the person in crisis. Still, it’s like riding a bike after breaking both your arms (and i speak from experience) every time you get back up, you win.

So, that said- knowing THIS trip would be to Skamania, where I have been on my own several times and always had a good time. Where I know the accommodations are so luxe, so beautiful, where I know the lobby and staff are so nice….

Where I know they have the BEST goodies, surprises, gifts, cute things, add ons, etc…..

that I did it. I drove across the state by myself, to meet new people, have new (scary) experiences, and see what becomes of me…..if I try.

bribes help, I digress.

I really do want to acknowledge and thank the partners at Skamania County Chamber of Commerce, Ashley (our coordinator) and all of the staff at Skamania. All of the items in our welcome bags are from the gift shop and most all of them are locally made and highlight The Gorge and the Pacific Northwest.

We received a package from Skamania’s spa, featuring Formulary brand products. Foot soaks, facial steam station, shower steamers, face and body scrubs, masks, oils, and lotions! They took care of us on another level…..in a treehouse no less.

Now, it’s a funny thing what “I do”. I write, I connect, I photo, I experience, I advocate, I share, I relieve, I inspire, I teach, I hold space, I curate, I create….

Yes, I open pretty packages to pretty backdrops in pretty places. It’s all so pretty (or so my lens portrays) but I like to think it’s a fair bit of showing up, audacity, tenacity, grit, innovation, passion, resilience, humility, and DELUSION. ha.

To me, creating is a symptom of a never ending burning madness……and to find others who are just insane is soothing.

Enter…..a creator summit. It is like an olympic sport, lights and cameras in hand, a smile and a vision, what is the purpose?

We surf (battle) algorithms daily

to share

food, hearts, triumphs, challenges, collective ideas….

crazy.

The welcome dinner was held at an outdoor pavilion, safe from the rain under heaters, open flame, and twinkling lights. We have our own bar, our own grill, chef, and…..time to bond. Its mandatory.lol. With 5 women, our organizer, the staff….its intimate and vulnerable. Course after course of health forward dishes set the vibes.

Of course it’s awkward at first. I’m a theater kid so I try to be kind and go first and say hello. Its what I can do.

We learn about each other one by one: a sound healer, a cozy book creator, a traveling flight attendant, some Oregon girl(me), and Larie…….who has flown in late BECAUSE HER ACCOUNT HAS JUST BEEN DELETED.

Suddenly, her “get to know me identity” is 404 NOT FOUND. Who is she now, without a quarter million followers to her name. We all look around each other knowing we could just as easily wake up to the same fate. What does that even mean?

Was she even allowed at a Creators Summit “without a platform”?

Wait, are any of us worth anything…if we don’t have a handle? Followers? People watching?

Skamania said come anyway.

The group said, we got you.

The healing retreat had begun…..

God, I love tragedy for that. Now, before you say “you evil villain what did you just say?” I love tragedy because it drops the floor for the room, it takes away the need to be the most perfect. Well, if you have the right people around you anyway.

For me, after my time in psych wards and rehabs (yes plural) I know that it’s the bottom that we build from. It’s the worst that brings the best. NONE of us want Larie to have lost her account, nor do we want to lose our own.

*Ok, I actually dream of it(losing my socials)….I’m also cleverly and stupidly NOT monetized so while I make nothing, I lose nothing…..(I count experiences as everything so Im actually rich, mwuahaa)

but FOR REAL-MOST people wrestle with social media to earn a living. That’s not why I show up.

Im certifiably insane, don’t follow my model.

BUT, when we see how fragile life is, it’s systems, how we can lose rent or networks in a moment. Like ants, we band together. We cling. That’s what makes us strong. REAL EARTH CONNECTION. What’s real outlasts screennames, platforms, trends, statistics.

Am I getting ahead of myself? The retreat went from goody hauls to hauling out our trauma, fears, and hurts really fast.

Skamania, you are good at what you do.

Want to note this is a alcohol free hot toddy. I recently completed 100 days no alcohol and I’m practicing some moderation skills. I did not drink the first night. Bonding, sober…..who KNEW ?!

We spent so much time rallying around Larie that we nearly missed the spa before it closed. You see, the thing about media trips is they are anything but leisurely, wellness designed or not. The next day would bring a challenge for us all- Wind Mountain.

Dressed in matching robes, we hauled into Shanae’s car and drove to the spa, laughing and spilling out of the elevator in a puddle.

“I can hear you women laughing from inside the elevator” exclaims a startled guest. Well, we don’t want to be disruptive but to hear a group of women laughing…feeling open and free, it is time.

We continue on, another guest is trapped with us in the next elevator. He asks us what we are up to and we say we are a bride tribe! I voulnteer to be the one getting married. I didn’t have bridesmaids after all….

We take over the women’s locker room hot tub with a ten minute warning. It is enough, to melt into the moment, squealing until 9:59 and quiet time.

Shuffling with muffled giggles to a row of rocking chairs before a gigantic fireplace. The lodge is ours, we are sister witches rocking the place, rocking in place.

This is the central lawn of Skamania, overlooking the mighty Columbia River Gorge, snow on the tips of the mountains fading into forest fog and a curtain of mist. Helicopters blink through the canyon as the ever present train trumpets through the night. It is a song, a layered land of mystery and musk.

The group gathers in the lobby, nervous for the hike ahead. Chia overnight pudding, mango puree, bananas, and seaweed. I am the mountain mermaid, these flavors follow me where I go. Seaweed to climb, coffee to add to the excitability of it all.

It’s just that it’s a fairly steep climb. 1,800 feet in a miles time, the weather is as expected in early March, a mixed bag of damp, varying degrees of cold included.

According to Indigenous tradition, Wind Mountain earned its name when powerful winds were sent to circle the peak after sacred fishing knowledge was shared beyond the tribe. The mountain has long held spiritual importance for the Chinookan peoples of the Columbia River, including ancestors of the present-day Confederated Tribes of the Warm Springs Reservation of Oregon and Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation, whose traditional territories include the Gorge and its fisheries.

Near the summit are ancient stone features marking a spirit-quest site where young people historically fasted and prayed as part of rites of passage and guidance seeking. They are to be greatly protected and honored.

Why, if we are highlighting Skamania and a creators summit, should we hike to the top of a spiritual mountain, revered for centuries?

The significance of this site is not lost on me, it is my honor to witness….or rather, experience. I nearly barfed before the hike. I’ve noticed that when I travel to this part of Oregon I get really nauseous. I am not sure why.

I will tell you that on my first trip to Skamania, waiting for the elevator where the man told us our group was a bit too jovial and loud….I felt the ground shake. Two women turned to me and asked if I too felt the rumble.

That night I dreamt of a giant rockman who lived underneath the Columbia River. He would only awaken when these waters were threatened. Later that summer I was invited to take a Jet Boat tour up the Columbia from Portland to Multnomah Falls. I thought of the Rock Man, like in the never ending story. I saw his face, his hands, his strong body in nearly every rock piling that made up the mountains of this gorge. Rock man was everywhere, waiting to quake and shake and break…..if he must.

Could others hear his rumbles too?

Would Wind Mountain reveal another dream, as it was said to do. Or had I had my spirit quest come in reverse, dreaming of the Rockman and then climbing his mountain, to see his rock bed, made of quartz diorite, a hard intrusive igneous rock that formed millions of years ago.

Perhaps I am delirious to expect such a reveal, but it is my own experience that each land has its own lessons to speak. If you listen, you will hear. It takes no certain skill other than a belief in ancient things….like mountain voices and colors in the wind.

As children we knew it well, living in play, EXPECTING magic. Why does it take a quest, up a steep steep hill to remember what we’ve always had inside ourselves.

Strength, to climb high but also dive deep, and remember.

After wards we climb into the van, exhausted but no longer nervous. We have our tour guide Devin who is from First Nature Tours. They offer guided adventures throughout the Columbia River Gorge and Mount Hood region, designed to connect visitors with the landscape through local expertise. With more than two decades of experience, the company creates small-group and custom tours that combine hiking, cultural history, food, and outdoor exploration.

we stopped for lunch and a tasting at Hawkins Cellars, perched high on Underwood Mountain overlooking the Columbia River. The winery is run by winemaker Thane Hawkins, who focuses on small-production wines sourced from vineyards across the Columbia River Gorge American Viticultural Area.

The Gorge is one of the most diverse wine regions in the Northwest, stretching nearly 40 miles along the river and spanning a dramatic shift in climate from the wet western forests to the dry eastern hills. Elevation, volcanic soils, and constant wind create a patchwork of microclimates where cool-climate grapes like Riesling and Gewürztraminer thrive alongside Pinot Noir and Rhône varieties.

Then it was time to go Wind Mountain Ranch for a Chinese herbalism class led by Lara Dilkes, the practitioner behind PDX Acupuncture. Lara is a licensed acupuncturist and herbalist who has been practicing for more than 17 years, building her Portland clinic around whole-body care that blends acupuncture, functional nutrition, and traditional Chinese herbal medicine.

The class centered on the herbs she works with daily in her practice, adaptogenic tinctures and plant formulas designed to help the body regulate stress, hormones, and immune response.

I’m in need of a lot emotional regualtion, sleep support, and women’s health support. We mixed our own teas based off our needs. I left with a bottle of magnesium elixir as well as her adaptogenic coffee alternative. I’ve been struggling with caffeine and muscle twitches and so Lara’s products are perfect for a 41 year old woman like me….looking for balance, peace, and just a little less pain.

As I said, anyone would be tired but when you are hired for your experiencing skills….you keep experiencing. I’m not complaining, just noting the pace of a healing retreat in 48 hours. So back to the lodge we went to EXPERIENCE the spa. Remember, its mandatory.

After the climb, after the road miles, after the stories and the tea and the wind, I began to notice the artwork that lines the halls of the lodge. Carvings, woven forms, prints and symbols drawn from the Indigenous cultures of the Columbia River Gorge. Salmon. Cedar. Wind. Stories of survival tied to this river long before highways and retreats and creators summits.

These are not decorative pieces. They are reminders. The Columbia River has always been a place of trade, hardship, ceremony, and transformation. The people who lived here understood suffering as part of growth. Vision quests on mountains like Wind Mountain were never meant to be comfortable. The climb, the isolation, the hunger, the wind. All of it was meant to strip you down until you could hear something deeper.

Our version looks a little different. A steep hike. A lost social media account. Surgery scars. Fear of traveling again. Creative burnout. But the lesson is the same. The Gorge has a way of showing you what remains when the noise drops away.

So when Skamania sends us toward the spa, it is not indulgence. It is part of the cycle. Restoration after effort. We move through small rituals, chair massages, quick facials, steam, heat, water.

The spa itself is built for exactly this rhythm, saunas, soaking pools, quiet lounges, treatment rooms, and products drawn from plant-based wellness traditions. After the mountain, after the stories, after the work of the day, the body gets its turn to heal.

And honestly… after Wind Mountain, we earned it.

At long last, we come together around a round table for one last meal as a group. Tired, relaxed, accomplished, hungry.

Some of us create the same kinds of work, others are still learning the ropes. For some this was just another media trip, for others it was their first. Some are mothers. Some hope to be. Most of us have dogs waiting at home. All of us are navigating the same quiet undercurrent that comes with putting yourself out into the world, the imposter syndrome, the second guessing, the strange feeling of wondering if what you are building even counts.

Social media life can look beautiful, adventurous, privileged even. And in many ways it is. But it is also lonely, confusing, competitive, and deeply personal work. To be visible is to constantly grow into the person who can carry that visibility. Influence is not just numbers. It is responsibility. What we share matters. Who we represent matters. How we treat each other, and the land we move through, matters.

By the time dessert arrived, the conversation had softened. The pressure to perform had faded. What remained was something simpler, a group of women comparing notes, sharing what works, admitting what doesn’t, and realizing how rare it is to have a room where everyone understands the strange work of building something out of stories.

For me, this trip felt like another marker along a longer path. Wild Oregon Girl started as a way to document places I loved, small hikes, coastal drives, the quiet corners of this state that felt like home. Somewhere along the way the work grew, and so did I.

The girl who first started writing these stories was searching for something. The woman who returns to places like Skamania now is building something. A life that includes solo travel, a small business run from creativity and stubborn persistence, motherhood, marriage, and the constant work of becoming.

None of it has been linear. I fail often. I try things that don’t work. I take risks that feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fall flat, but the motion forward is what matters.

Becoming Wild Oregon Woman is not a finished story. It is the work of continuing to show up, to travel, to listen, to create, and to grow alongside the landscapes that first inspired me.

Every trip, every time I try, it becomes another chapter in this book of life.

The next morning we gathered one last time with Skamania’s head chef and food and beverage director for a quiet farewell breakfast. The table was simple and thoughtful, a hazelnut and date shake, overnight oats topped with peanut brittle and rhubarb, local ingredients prepared with the same care that had carried through the entire retreat.

One member of our group had already departed, the circle a little smaller now. The rest of us sat there tired, a little sore from Wind Mountain, moving slower but still laughing. And of course, there was one more activity waiting for us. Another physical challenge. We grumbled about it the way friends do when they are exhausted but secretly curious. Could we really make it through one more feat before heading home?

But it turned out fine, as the other challenges had. Our practitioner studied the room and began guiding us into a mandala formation. One by one we shifted across the floor until our bodies locked into position, arms extended, backs braced, each person holding a piece of the pattern.

From above it would have looked like sacred geometry drawn across the floor. Inside it was effort, shaking muscles, breath finding rhythm again.

The shape only worked because every person stayed in it. If one body wavered the pattern shifted. If someone steadied, the structure held.

That is the way nature builds its systems too.

Rivers carve their paths through repetition and pressure. Forests return after fire through thousands of small acts of growth. Patterns hold because many parts keep showing up, even when the ground underneath them is uneven.

Healing carries that same grit. It is rarely graceful while it is happening. It looks more like the climb up Wind Mountain, lungs burning, legs questioning every step, yet the trail keeps rising. It looks like showing up in a room with strangers and admitting fear, insecurity, loss, and then realizing the person beside you understands.

By the end of the sequence our bodies lowered back to the floor, the mandala dissolving into laughter and relief.

The pattern had existed only for a moment, yet it left something behind. The reminder that even a short weekend can shift the lines of a life, that people who meet briefly can hold each other steady long enough for something new to take shape.

The Columbia River carved its way through these mountains with pressure, persistence, and time, shaping cliffs and valleys through forces that were anything but gentle. Wind, water, and fire built this place through resilience and natural fortitude.

The same is true for us. Growth comes through effort, through discomfort, through showing up again when the climb feels long. Like the Gorge itself, the work is slow, steady, and powerful enough to shape the landscape of a life.