I'm home at last, after spending a week (mostly) camping out in Eastern Oregon. I left here on Tuesday, Sept. 23rd and returned yesterday on Wednesday, Oct. 1st, driving the Miata down through Central Washington: to North Bend and I-90 via Hwy 18, thence to Ellensburg, Yakima, past Tri-Cities (Kennewick, Richland, and Pasco), across the Columbia River at Umatilla below McNary Dam, on to I-84 near Hermiston, through Pendleton, La Grande, Island City, and finally out to Cove and my sister Laurie's place. The drive is 315 miles and five-and-one-half hours, though it's fairly pleasurable in the Miata. No, I did not drive with the top down.
I stayed at my sister's the first and last nights, since Sam was to pick me up there and he didn't arrive until late. Then, I figured it would be un-sisterly to just shower, wash my clothes, and leave without a visit, so I stayed an extra night. We didn't end up talking a lot (which was probably just as well), though I did get to see my niece Alyssa's new baby and drive out to where my niece Chelsea lives with her fiancé Chris (they're getting married on Oct. 18th). Chris introduced me to all their horses, since he knew I was interested in perhaps borrowing one the next time I go up to Eagle Cap Wilderness. I will probably take him up on his offer of using his seven-year-old grey gelding the next time out, because that trail is murder. Besides, I'd like to have a horse to ride around up there. I thought it was terribly nice of him to say I could take his own horse out anytime I wanted, since all he knows about my horsemanship skills is what he's heard from my family—though he has talked to me a couple of times. He must have been favorable impressed, because I wouldn't loan my horse to just anybody!
We stayed at our base camp at Two Pan down at the trailhead on the Lostine River for the first three nights. The parking lot was full of big horse vans and stock trailers belonging to outfitters who were busily engaged in ferrying parties of elk hunters in and out (plus their kills) from a special archery hunt up in the Minam Canyon--at least that was our speculation. Sam used the time to make improvements to our camp site there. To those of you who don’t know him, Sam has never found anything that cannot be improved. The first night he leveled the spot where the dome tent was to go. The second day he put in a different (and a much nicer) fire pit that he'd found, complete with a brick hearth and a couple of logs next to it to set items on while cooking; he also leveled the floor of the screen tent where we keep food and cook on the propane camp stove. The third day he dug out a hole in the river for storing cold beverages. I spent my days helping him when I could, organizing all the stuff we'd brought along, playing with the dog, and hiking around. I also managed to write a journal and read two books while there. The weather could not have been nicer, though it was really cold at night (40 degrees F.). Also, it got dark pretty early, and there was nothing to do but go to bed, making the nights REALLY LONG. Mind you, I'm used to only sleeping about six hours a night, and I get off work at 1 am, so this was a radical change to my schedule. I found myself tired enough to sleep when I went to bed, but then I'd wake up at about 2 am (and several times afterward) and try to go back to sleep. You can probably understand that I was bored out of my mind by the third day.
On Saturday, we finally tackled the trail up the mountain. Mind you, Sam had warned me that it was quite difficult, but I knew pack strings of horses and mules went up and down it all the time, so I wasn't too worried. It was only three-and-a-half miles, after all--how hard could it be? Sam had also told me that it was like the Glacier Basin trail I'd hiked on Mt. Rainier a couple of years ago, but I must say that I was nowhere near being adequately mentally prepared for how bad it was. Yes, it was "like" a part of the Glacier Basin trail--but this one went on and on for three %&@$ing miles!--straight up! Thank God I had really good Gore-Tex hiking boots and some trekking poles, or I would have never made it. And, going up was nothing compared to coming back down again on Monday. How do you limp on both feet? I know the answer to that! Yes, I can and most likely will make the trip again, though next time I will know what I'm in for--and I may well take Chris up on his offer to loan me Grey Gelding to haul my backside up there.
Once we got to the meadows and the river valley, the scenery was truly impressive, and I managed to get some nice photos of Eagle Cap while Sam was fishing, but I didn't have the time or the gumption to go on to Mirror Lake, which I had really wanted to do. That undertaking was another three-and-a-half hours of trekking, and I just did not have it in me this time around. It will have to wait for next time (!) and (probably) the horse.
The first night at what Sam calls Two Creeks Camp, we listened to a bull elk bugling up and down in the valley below all night. He began at about 7:30 pm and ended up on the ridge above us about twelve hours later. At one point I seriously thought he was coming into camp to check us out (Roxi the dog and I were huddled in sleeping bags in the tent trying to keep warm--Sam had gone back down the mountain to bring up a second sleeping bag and a few other items we needed), but he didn't. Even though it would have been dangerous, I was disappointed at not getting to see him. The second night I heard him start out on the ridge top above us, but he went east into the box canyon up there. He must have found what he was looking for, because we didn't hear from him again.
The next day, after a breakfast of coffee, instant oatmeal, and sausages, we hiked up the canyon trail and Sam fished in the Lostine River (which at that point is little more than a creek). All the fish in the Lakes' Basin were originally planted long ago by the Forest Service, but there are now brook trout literally everywhere. You cannot walk down the banks of any stream there without seeing schools of fish, though by our standards they're pretty small. Seven-inchers are pretty good-sized fish, but most are three- to five-inches in length. It takes four or five of them per person for a meal, but they are nice meaty little fish. Sam brought one in nearly every time he stuck the fly he was using (a grasshopper) in the water.
While Sam was fishing, I hiked up the trail with the dog, since she likes to "help" Sam fish. I took a few more photos, but then I turned back and we sat down for a bit of lunch: a couple of taco wrap sandwiches, a nut bar, and a piece of fruit apiece. Carrying water was not necessary, since we could get a drink anytime we wanted. Sam fished a bit longer, until he felt we had enough for dinner, and we returned to camp.
Monday morning we broke camp and then hiked back down the trail to our base camp. That took all day, and we barely got to camp before dark. I can honestly say I cannot remember feeling more miserable in my entire life (I’d say it was an “8” on the pain scale), and the only thing that kept me going was that I had no choice. Going down that boulder-filled trail was no fun at all and a real challenge to my attitude. Was Sam going to leave me on the hillside and get an outfitter to pack my sorry butt down? Not unless I had a broken leg or something! Sam even told me he was proud of me several times, though I was beginning to whimper and whine near the end. We stayed overnight at base camp and the next morning divvied up the things I would bring home with me in the Miata. Sam intends to stay up there for another week, so I left the bulk of the food with him. On Tuesday night I stayed at my sister's and then drove home Wednesday afternoon.
I am so very glad Sam was a boy scout and has excellent woodsman's skills, beyond what I'd thought of in the past. He's tougher than I knew he was, and I have a new appreciation for what he usually does out there on his own. I know it's a cliché, but now that I'm home, there is absolutely nothing like sleeping in your own bed. You can believe it.
I stayed at my sister's the first and last nights, since Sam was to pick me up there and he didn't arrive until late. Then, I figured it would be un-sisterly to just shower, wash my clothes, and leave without a visit, so I stayed an extra night. We didn't end up talking a lot (which was probably just as well), though I did get to see my niece Alyssa's new baby and drive out to where my niece Chelsea lives with her fiancé Chris (they're getting married on Oct. 18th). Chris introduced me to all their horses, since he knew I was interested in perhaps borrowing one the next time I go up to Eagle Cap Wilderness. I will probably take him up on his offer of using his seven-year-old grey gelding the next time out, because that trail is murder. Besides, I'd like to have a horse to ride around up there. I thought it was terribly nice of him to say I could take his own horse out anytime I wanted, since all he knows about my horsemanship skills is what he's heard from my family—though he has talked to me a couple of times. He must have been favorable impressed, because I wouldn't loan my horse to just anybody!
We stayed at our base camp at Two Pan down at the trailhead on the Lostine River for the first three nights. The parking lot was full of big horse vans and stock trailers belonging to outfitters who were busily engaged in ferrying parties of elk hunters in and out (plus their kills) from a special archery hunt up in the Minam Canyon--at least that was our speculation. Sam used the time to make improvements to our camp site there. To those of you who don’t know him, Sam has never found anything that cannot be improved. The first night he leveled the spot where the dome tent was to go. The second day he put in a different (and a much nicer) fire pit that he'd found, complete with a brick hearth and a couple of logs next to it to set items on while cooking; he also leveled the floor of the screen tent where we keep food and cook on the propane camp stove. The third day he dug out a hole in the river for storing cold beverages. I spent my days helping him when I could, organizing all the stuff we'd brought along, playing with the dog, and hiking around. I also managed to write a journal and read two books while there. The weather could not have been nicer, though it was really cold at night (40 degrees F.). Also, it got dark pretty early, and there was nothing to do but go to bed, making the nights REALLY LONG. Mind you, I'm used to only sleeping about six hours a night, and I get off work at 1 am, so this was a radical change to my schedule. I found myself tired enough to sleep when I went to bed, but then I'd wake up at about 2 am (and several times afterward) and try to go back to sleep. You can probably understand that I was bored out of my mind by the third day.
On Saturday, we finally tackled the trail up the mountain. Mind you, Sam had warned me that it was quite difficult, but I knew pack strings of horses and mules went up and down it all the time, so I wasn't too worried. It was only three-and-a-half miles, after all--how hard could it be? Sam had also told me that it was like the Glacier Basin trail I'd hiked on Mt. Rainier a couple of years ago, but I must say that I was nowhere near being adequately mentally prepared for how bad it was. Yes, it was "like" a part of the Glacier Basin trail--but this one went on and on for three %&@$ing miles!--straight up! Thank God I had really good Gore-Tex hiking boots and some trekking poles, or I would have never made it. And, going up was nothing compared to coming back down again on Monday. How do you limp on both feet? I know the answer to that! Yes, I can and most likely will make the trip again, though next time I will know what I'm in for--and I may well take Chris up on his offer to loan me Grey Gelding to haul my backside up there.
Once we got to the meadows and the river valley, the scenery was truly impressive, and I managed to get some nice photos of Eagle Cap while Sam was fishing, but I didn't have the time or the gumption to go on to Mirror Lake, which I had really wanted to do. That undertaking was another three-and-a-half hours of trekking, and I just did not have it in me this time around. It will have to wait for next time (!) and (probably) the horse.
The first night at what Sam calls Two Creeks Camp, we listened to a bull elk bugling up and down in the valley below all night. He began at about 7:30 pm and ended up on the ridge above us about twelve hours later. At one point I seriously thought he was coming into camp to check us out (Roxi the dog and I were huddled in sleeping bags in the tent trying to keep warm--Sam had gone back down the mountain to bring up a second sleeping bag and a few other items we needed), but he didn't. Even though it would have been dangerous, I was disappointed at not getting to see him. The second night I heard him start out on the ridge top above us, but he went east into the box canyon up there. He must have found what he was looking for, because we didn't hear from him again.
The next day, after a breakfast of coffee, instant oatmeal, and sausages, we hiked up the canyon trail and Sam fished in the Lostine River (which at that point is little more than a creek). All the fish in the Lakes' Basin were originally planted long ago by the Forest Service, but there are now brook trout literally everywhere. You cannot walk down the banks of any stream there without seeing schools of fish, though by our standards they're pretty small. Seven-inchers are pretty good-sized fish, but most are three- to five-inches in length. It takes four or five of them per person for a meal, but they are nice meaty little fish. Sam brought one in nearly every time he stuck the fly he was using (a grasshopper) in the water.
While Sam was fishing, I hiked up the trail with the dog, since she likes to "help" Sam fish. I took a few more photos, but then I turned back and we sat down for a bit of lunch: a couple of taco wrap sandwiches, a nut bar, and a piece of fruit apiece. Carrying water was not necessary, since we could get a drink anytime we wanted. Sam fished a bit longer, until he felt we had enough for dinner, and we returned to camp.
Monday morning we broke camp and then hiked back down the trail to our base camp. That took all day, and we barely got to camp before dark. I can honestly say I cannot remember feeling more miserable in my entire life (I’d say it was an “8” on the pain scale), and the only thing that kept me going was that I had no choice. Going down that boulder-filled trail was no fun at all and a real challenge to my attitude. Was Sam going to leave me on the hillside and get an outfitter to pack my sorry butt down? Not unless I had a broken leg or something! Sam even told me he was proud of me several times, though I was beginning to whimper and whine near the end. We stayed overnight at base camp and the next morning divvied up the things I would bring home with me in the Miata. Sam intends to stay up there for another week, so I left the bulk of the food with him. On Tuesday night I stayed at my sister's and then drove home Wednesday afternoon.
I am so very glad Sam was a boy scout and has excellent woodsman's skills, beyond what I'd thought of in the past. He's tougher than I knew he was, and I have a new appreciation for what he usually does out there on his own. I know it's a cliché, but now that I'm home, there is absolutely nothing like sleeping in your own bed. You can believe it.
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