When the Army Corps of Engineers sought to reduce Beacon Rock to rubble, Henry Biddle purchased it for $1 in 1915. Before World War I, he spent another $10,000 building a steep trail to the 848-foot summit, which allowed easy access for the first time. The trail’s popularity soon attracted rock climbers and motorcyclists.
We don’t know whether Native Americans climbed Che-che-op-tin (navel of the world). Reports suggest some adventuresome steamboat men “forced to use their fingers and feet” did — their full ascent is doubtful. The rock’s beauty drew Sunday picnickers from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. Once Biddle’s twisty-turny trail opened, Beacon Rock became a popular Southwest Washington destination. It also provided a local challenge for mountaineers, rock climbers and bikers.
The Columbian records the first motorcyclist to reach the peak as George Loby, riding an Indian Scout bike, in 1925. Loby followed Biddle’s narrow trail to the top and presumably back down, although the article mentions nothing about the descent. Deputy Sheriff Seth Davidson repeated Loby’s stunt on March 18, 1930. The reporter, failing to check the archives, mistakenly called Davidson’s ascent the first, noting any sliding on the narrow winding path might have sent the deputy to a rocky death.
Portlander Clarence Peddicord, blinded by an explosion a year earlier, attempted the trail in 1938. According to The Columbian, Peddicord’s seeing eye dog, Duke, “performed the astonishing feat of leading Clarence to the top.” Again, it emphasized climbing over the descent, which is always harder.
In December 1947, two college students decided to climb Beacon Rock. Armed with rope, pitons, carabiners and other climbing equipment, Zach Steward of Yale University and Bruce Green from Washington State College (now Washington State University) eagerly attempted the southeast face of the monolith. Steward rose 150 feet before lousy weather stopped his upward escalade. The students returned the following day to climb the east face but considered the mossy north and west sides too slippery.
A decade later, in February 1957, 100 people were involved in the rescue of Robert Boyle, 24. Repelling from the top, the Portlander entangled his lines and trapped himself on a small ledge about halfway down the rock’s north side in freezing weather. Stuck for 12 hours, unable to go up or down, he yelled for help. The wife of the Beacon Rock State Park superintendent, Mrs. Clarence Rudhe, called the Skamania County Sheriff’s office, which brought searchlights, and called a Portland mountaineering organization to help with the rescue. They retrieved Boyle at 2:15 a.m. with the help of a cable.
A 25-year-old Korean War veteran ventured up the pinnacle with 20 Boy Scouts in 1952. When the weekend outing ended, Marshall Field found himself confined to a hospital bed nursing lacerations, bruises, an injured knee and a broken ankle. As the troop hiked up the slope, he’d grabbed an overhanging tree branch, which broke, sending him tumbling down a gravel slope for 70 feet. Someone drove the injured man to the doctorless North Bonneville, then to Stevenson, where the only doctor was away at a football game. At that point the wounded vet took command of the car and drove himself to a Vancouver hospital.
