The Ghost of Pilot Butte Inn

Sometimes I can almost see it.  Walking the streets of downtown Bend in December sometimes I find myself stopping at the corner of Wall and Newport.   There, in the dead silence of falling snow, I imagine a different time in the same place.  Sometimes I can almost see the Ghost of Pilot Butte Inn. 

When I first saw the large boarded-up rustic lodge, it was just north of the main thoroughfare of downtown. I remember it being somewhat out of place both in location and time.  The seventies was no place for a downtown mountain chalet or sportsman’s lodge – not even for Bend, Oregon, the state’s closest imitation of Aspen or Sun Valley. 

The Pilot Butte Inn opened in 1917 the beginning of the Automobile era. The lodge became a destination place for fly fisherman, hunters, Hollywood stars and reportedly Eleanor Roosevelt.   There were grand timbered rooms, walls and ceilings and stone fireplaces. The dining room overlooked the Deschutes River and you could get a late night cocktail in the Mt. Bachelor Room. 

I biked past it every day on my way home from school. Standing tippy-toed, hands cupped over my eyes, I remember stopping to peak thru the lifeless glass.  Couldn’t see much – just dust, cob-webs and clutter – but even then I knew this must have been something.   I barely remember the debate about the decaying structure before it was abruptly torn down in 1973. 

It was later I came to realize that for decades the Pilot Butte Inn was the iconic centerpiece of my home town long before it was my home town.  As for my imagination in winter – maybe I’m just old enough to remember.  Or maybe just maybe, it’s the winter ale from Deschutes and/or Bend breweries.  Yeah that’s probably it.