There is a low building of black lava rock on the summit of McKenzie Pass that looks as if it grew out of the ground, and in a sense it did, since every stone in it came from the lava fields around it. Dee Wright Observatory was built by Civilian Conservation Corps workers in the 1930s, in the style of a medieval watchtower, with arched openings and a flat roof from which you can look out over an ocean of broken black basalt. It was named for a local packer and guide who had worked on the old road.
From the roof, brass sighting tubes point to the peaks in every direction: Mount Washington, Three Fingered Jack, Mount Jefferson, Mount Bachelor and the Three Sisters. The lava fields around you flowed from nearby vents within the last few thousand years, a surprisingly recent event in geological terms, and the rock is jagged, clinker-like and almost without soil. Scattered trees, bent by wind, grow from cracks, and a short loop trail leads through the lava beds. The place feels like the edge of a volcano, because it is.
The road to it, Oregon 242, is one of the great narrow mountain roads of the Northwest, and it is not for large vehicles. It climbs from the west side through old-growth forest in tight, winding bends, with little room for error, then crosses the lava fields at the top before descending to Sisters on the east side in more open country. The surface is smooth but the road is narrow and tight, with blind bends and little shoulder, and the speed limit is low. It is a delight on a motorcycle. It is also a seasonal road, closed by snow from late autumn until early summer, usually opening around the Fourth of July, so check the status before you plan.
There are toilets and a car park at the observatory, but no other services, and the pass is exposed to wind and sudden weather. Sisters, about twenty kilometres to the east, is the nearest town with petrol stations, cafés and shops, and it is sensible to fill the tank and buy supplies there, and bring layers even in summer.
Climb up to the roof and turn slowly through a full circle. The mountains line up like a row of silent witnesses.