Richard Parker seems a little nervous as the free shuttle bus pulls out of the Skamania County fairgrounds in Stevenson, Washington, on the way to the Dog Mountain trailhead. His seatmates assure me he’s a seasoned hiker despite his very short legs, with both Table Mountain and the Elk–Kings Traverse under his belt, but I’m still a bit worried about him. A couple of hours later, however, huffing and puffing as I approach the summit, I see that the spry Mr. Parker has beaten me there and is already starting his descent.

On this sunny Sunday in late April, Richard Parker is one of several dogs on the shuttle bus, along with about 30 in-the-know humans who parked at the fairgrounds. Riding the shuttle bus, a service of Hood River–based Columbia Area Transit (and thus a CAT bus as well as a dog bus)—gets you a free, no-advance-booking-required pass for the popular hike, a seven-mile thigh burner. Back in 2018, the Forest Service instituted a special parking permit on weekends from mid-April through early June to try to contain the wildflower-season crowds. (This is in addition to the regular day-use fee or Northwest Forest Pass requirement.) Released three days in advance, the permits get snapped up quickly, and the Forest Service stations friendly representatives at the trailhead on weekends to make sure everyone has one. When the shuttle drops me there around 9am, they’ve already turned away a few hopeful hikers. Luckily, those folks could just drive 10 miles to Stevenson to park and take the 15-minute shuttle back to the trailhead, cleared to hike with a hand stamp from the bus driver. Maybe some of them just got off the shuttle with me.

My journey to reach the shuttle was longer and entirely on public transit, starting on TriMet with a bus to the Rose Quarter and then a MAX ride to Gateway Transit Center. After boarding CAT’s Columbia Gorge Express at 7:20am ($10 each way, unless you have a $40 annual Gorge Pass), I have about 20 minutes between buses in downtown Cascade Locks, just enough time to buy a chocolate–white chocolate chunk cookie at Thirsty Coffee and hit the municipal public restroom, which is a lot nicer than the outhouse I’ll visit later near the trailhead. The hike shuttle mostly goes back and forth between Stevenson and the trailhead, but it crosses to Oregon a few times a day for a stop in Cascade Locks. I’m the only passenger when I board, before we cruise past the toll booth on the Bridge of the Gods and pick up more riders (human and canine) in Stevenson.

At the trailhead, just over half of the 75 or so parking spots are occupied at 9am. I wait a few minutes for the crowd to thin before starting up the switchbacks. After a river viewpoint and a fork where one way is labeled “Difficult” and the other “More Difficult” (I go with the former), the switchbacks give way to a more even, shaded path that somehow never feels crowded. A sign promises I’m only a mile from the summit and the trail becomes unforgivingly vertical, so I take plenty of breaks to rest and hydrate and work my way through the cookie I picked up in Cascade Locks. When I emerge again from the trees, I’m met with yellow balsamroot and spreading phlox dotting the green slopes. In the coming weeks, there will be even more wildflowers in bloom, but what’s here is already stunning, and the stream of hikers on the brown ribbon of trail looks like a pilgrimage procession out of a Rick Steves episode.

At the top, rows of grassy hummocks provide stadium seating for the view of not just wildflowers but a grand expanse of the Columbia River Gorge and nearby peaks Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens. This is the real payoff, though many hikers continue a few steps beyond to take a picture of a sign marking the official summit, at 2,951 feet. I make friends with some of the dogs who have conquered their namesake mountain, one of whom I learn has his own Instagram. Speedy Richard Parker is probably halfway down the mountain by now.

I could go back the way I came, but I’ve read that returning via the Augspurger Trail is a little longer but kinder on the knees. It takes me away from the wildflowers and back into the woods, and is indeed less steep than the Dog Mountain Trail, though it crosses rockfall that might be hard on dog paws, especially on hot days.

About four miles later, I’m back at the trailhead and don’t have to wait long for a shuttle, which run every 20 minutes in the afternoon. They stop delivering people to the trailhead after 1pm, with the final return trip departing the trailhead at 5pm. I make it to Stevenson around 2pm and have time to kill before the next shuttle to Cascade Locks at 4:20, so I grab a mango-topped “taco tropical” and a Pacifico at El Rio and watch the Blazers fall apart in the second half of a playoff game. I could have been spared that heartbreak across the street at the Big River Grill, which has no TV but does have a framed picture of Alf, the ’80s-sitcom Alien Life Form, in its bathroom, or down the hill on the TV-less patio of Walking Man Brewing.

Post-taco, I scan the racks at Out and About, where I could buy myself a Pendleton Westerley sweater (a.k.a. the Dude’s sweater from The Big Lebowski) as a prize for completing the hike. Across the street, Bloomsbury has a refrigerated case of cut flowers and an impressive selection of aprons and baby blankets. At North Bank Books, which was united over the winter with Riverside Resale, I browse the bookshelves and racks of used clothes (purple tags are half off) and buy a couple $1 issues of the Skamania County Pioneer.

I arrive in Cascade Locks at 4:30pm, 10 minutes late for one Columbia Gorge Express bus but an hour and 20 minutes early for the next one. A lane closure on 84 has drivers looking for an alternate route to Portland and going through Cascade Locks on their way to the Washington side of the river, and traffic is so backed up that the bus I missed is running late and I could catch it. But by the time I see it creeping along Wa-Na-Pa Street I’m already happily seated at the third-floor bar at Gorges Beer Co. As I work through a kale Caesar with quality croutons and a very refreshing Let’s F’in Gorge pilsner, I read through the Pioneer and get the latest on Skamania County’s Flock camera drama and forensic developments in the Martin family case, plus a sheriff’s office incident report with lots of traffic stops, a possible missing airplane, and a suspected phone scam complete with a fake kidnapping. Full of news and kale, I return to the main drag and duck into Buddy’s Arcade, which is more of a barcade. I’m sad to learn I missed a video dance party the night before but relieved when the local on the next Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle barstool assures me it’s a recurring event—maybe I’ll make the next one.

That would mean an overnight, though. The 5:50pm bus I board is the last run of the day for the Columbia Gorge Express, so Cascade Locks nightlife—Buddy’s nighttime programming, the other brewery in town (Thunder Island), and the Whiskey Flats Tavern, which is both simultaneously very grown-up (a Jack Daniels–inspired logo and a neon lottery sign in the window) and very kid-friendly (organic root beer sold by the mug or float and a textbook kids’ menu)—will have to wait till I can make a weekend of it. Maybe I’ll combine it with another hike—if little Richard Parker can tackle them, so can I.