Our Eastern Oregon trip (part I)

 

A few weeks ago we went on our first backpacking trip of the season, to Eastern Oregon. Normally we wouldn't go so early in the year, but Melina's preschool was on break so it was a good time. The weather turned out to be great (it was over 100 there a week later) and, apart from the ticks, a good time was had by all. Here's the trip report I wrote while we were on vacation.

Day I: Portland to Baker City

A five-hour drive broken up by a sub sandwich in the Dalles. Melina keeps up random conversation ("Is that boat sinking? Why are we going to the hotel this way? Is the hotel invisible?"). Jeff tries to explain the huge wind turbines we pass in the Eastern gorge. "Where did it go, on a big pole? Just like the car? Did it go up in the air? Is that how it's supposed to be, like that?"

Baker City: arrive at the Geiser Grand Hotel at 6:20. Motorcycle rally! Hundreds of Harleys and other motorcycles lined up in rows in the streets around the hotel. In the front, a stage with HELL'S CANYON RALLY in big letters, and a cheering crowd in black leather and skimpy teeshirts, horned helmets, skin-tight lace, and black German-style helmets. They're raffling off two pistols! Behind the hotel, a beer garden with another set of loudspeakers.

At first, we are freaked. When I made the reservation yesterday there was no mention of a biker rally. The lady at the desk tells us we can't get a refund because we made the reservation yesterday; I tell her we didn't know what we were getting into. We go up to see the room. The hotel is beautiful, a newly renovated turn-of-the-century (or earlier) gem with a second floor gallery looking down into the dining room; above, a stained glass ceiling. On the third floor, there are ghosts, but we get a room on the second floor that is well soundproofed, large and comfortable. After settling in (the staff is relieved) we go for a turn outside, checking out the characters and the bikes. Melina is a little scared of the motorcycles at first, but soon warms up. I want to take her photo with one of the scarier-looking bikes but I'm afraid of her tipping it over, with dire consequences. Actually, though, the crowd is well-mannered, mostly middle-aged couples with a few rough edges. Dinner is hot dogs and sauerkraut at a corner soda fountain. Melina is now completely wound up; as I write this I'm in the smoky library waiting for the all's-clear from Jeff, who is putting her to bed.

The next day: the night was not so bad. The stage behind the hotel closed around 11:00. People in the bar talked loudly until late, and smoke filtered in under the door, but the circumstances are unusual. Melina slept until 9:30-10:00 on the double bed; no major traumas. In the morning we packed and repacked and ate breakfast at Mad Matilda's coffeehouse. Excellent food and coffee!

Part II: North Fork John Day Wilderness

On Saturday we drove up past the historic little towns of Sumpter and Granite, to the Granite Creek trailhead. This area was the center of goldmining activity for about 100 years and there are big piles of rocks left over from dredging activity, plus lots of dilapidated cabins and mining equipment scattered about.

The Granite Creek drainage was beautiful and parklike, with Ponderosa pines, huckleberry bushes and grasses. Granite Creek itself was swollen with snowmelt, and was more of a roaring river than a creek. The area is quite remote and unvisited at this time of year; we saw nobody on the trail, though there was one car at the trailhead. Unfortunately my ability to enjoy the setting was hampered by a) a wicked case of PMS; b) Melina's incessant whining; c) an [unfounded] fear of rattlesnakes; and eventually d) the fear of never finding a camping spot. We noted (after hiking several miles in) that our Sullivan guide did not show any camping icons on this trail. At the very lowest point, when we started bickering about whether to continue on or retreat three miles back to the trailhead (low blood sugar was setting in), I walked ahead. Suddenly I saw a big white Newfoundland dog bounding through the bushes - at least, that's what I thought, until I realized it was a blonde bear. It stopped about 100 feet away from me and looked at me; I stared back and waved frantically to Jeff to come see, but he was too far behind me. I yelled "bear!" as quietly as I could, which of course spooked the bear, who ran off at top speed, its huge blonde rump wobbling through the undergrowth. It truly was a blonde bear - yellow, darkening to brown at the ends. I had never seen a bear this close, except from a car. Luckily it seemed very wary of us and therefore less likely to raid our camp.

Immediately after, a white-tailed deer ran toward us (probably spooked by the bear), saw us, and headed away.

We found a flat space to camp at the tip of a bluff where the bear had disappeared. Coincidence? I think not.

Part III: North Fork John Day Wilderness, contd.

On Monday, after a restless night where I worried about bears and falling trees, we decided to scout ahead on the trail. And wouldn't you know it, there was a *beautiful* campsite about 1/4 of a mile down the path. A large, grassy field; a sheltering tree; the convergence of two rollicking streams; the remains of a mining cabin; and even an old (but serviceable) outhouse. Little did we know, but it was also crawling, absolutely crawling, with ticks. (By the end, Melina and I were bitten by three ticks each, while Jeff got away with one; that's not counting the dozen or so we picked off before they could attach. Luckily they're not the kind that cause Lyme disease, though - just Rocky Mountain spotted fever. Which none of us have.)

Later that day we hiked further along the trail to the old Gutridge Mine. Melina was very excited about seeing the "scary mine," and we were all disappointed when it proved to be nothing but several large piles of rocks. Still, we did spend some time relaxing and playing along the river. That night I slept horribly, feeling ticks crawling everywhere. In the middle of the night Melina started coughing with a croupy, seal-like bark that made my blood run cold (visions of a midnight trek to the trailhead), but it was just a passing thing and never reappeared. (Did I mention that Melina got a cold on the first day of our vacation?)

On Tuesday we retreated from the ticks and headed to our Forest Service rental cabin, the Fremont Miner's Retreat at the old Fremont Powerhouse near Granite. Ironically (considering how remote we were), we had to rush out to the car and drive fast in order to find cell service so that we could call the Forest Service before 4:00 and get the combination to the cabin lock. I found a tick on me in the car; I asked the ranger about them and she said that if you want to avoid ticks, you pretty much have to stay in town.

Part IV: Fremont Miner's Retreat

We spent Tuesday and Wednesday nights at the Fremont Miner's Retreat, a little bare-bones cabin in a settlement of about four other houses. There's a little pond ("Lake DePuddle"), a friendly ghost (in the house next to us), and an old electrical station that was used for mining operations. We went into the minimalist, ramshackle town of Granite for breakfast and had a good conversation with one of the locals, who told us all about bear and cougar sightings, trails, campsites, and how to mine for gold. On Wednesday we circumnavigated Olive Lake, which was more of a challenge than we expected because of the remaining snow and many downed trees. But all in all it was a mellow day, and finally a relaxing one.

On Thursday we left the cabin and had breakfast in the town of Sumpter. Afterward, we visited the Sumpter dredge, an impressive, gigantic contraption that was used to mine gold for several years. Later we checked in to the Geiser Grand Hotel again, getting the same room for a second night. (This time, we had a ghost sighting; see below). We took a walk to the park (where Melina had a bloody run-in with another girl, who hit her in the nose) and browsed through the very well equipped Baker City library.

Melina at Lake DePuddle

Sumpter Dredge

A ghost at the Geiser Grand

Notice how the ghost does not appear in the mirror behind it!

Part V: North Fork Umatilla Wilderness

On Friday we spent some time at Mad Matilda's Coffeehouse in Baker City (truly a first-class coffeehouse; they even roast their own beans). This Friday there were hundreds of cyclists in town for a stage race; I was surprised at all the goings-on in Baker City. It's a much more happenin' town than you would think.

After stocking up on chocolate, mints, and coffee beans, we headed north to the North Fork Umatilla wilderness. This is what I wrote that night:

Friday night, summer solstice, 9:05. Finally putting Melina to bed, completely punch-drunk. We are at a creekside campsite. It's still light enough to write by, plus I have a campfire going in front of me. Still quite warm.

The hike here was relatively brutal, despite being very level. Damage from the winter has not been repaired, so there was a lot of crawling over and around downed trees. Parts of the path were overgrown with itchy plants. Also, it was fairly warm and muggy, and the path never wavered from its straight, monotonous, claustrophobic route paralleling the left bank of the river (which was often too far away to see). There was so much dense greenery it is hard to believe that above us there are grassy plateaus.

Saw no wildlife, but many deer prints. No ticks and no mosquitoes!

Jeff ended up carrying Melina on his shoulders most of the way, because she toddles along so slowly and it was getting late. We figured our speed at 1.4 m.p.h., given waiting for Melina and climbing over/under/around downed trees. We passed one nice campsite at 2.7 miles, but it was too far from the creek, so we continued on and found a nice one 1.6 miles later. This is near the creek and has a nice firepit with a ton of firewood left by previous campers.

Saturday evening, 9:03. Slept horribly the previous night, for no apparent reason. Woke to cloudy skies, but we climbed up above the treeline onto the grassy hillsides, and our moods improved as the view grew more expansive. We hiked to a viewpoint at the end of Coyote Ridge. There were many wildflowers and much elk poop. Several small rain showers came and went; Melina fell asleep on Jeff's back during the first one and slept with Jeff's hat over her head. We saw one snake (a uniform brown) and a lizard or two, plus some interesting bugs; but no large wildlife. In camp, we are constantly serenaded by Swainson's thrushes.

Melina got busy cleaning the camp this morning. She found tufts of pine needles and used them to sweep rocks and dust off huckleberry leaves. She even cleaned our dishes in the river and wiped them off with a baby wipe.

On the hike, Jeff told Melina endless "one days"; I honor his fortitude.

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On Sunday we hiked out. This time it was sunny, and I was wearing long pants so I was immune to the itchy plants reaching out onto the trail. All in all, a much more pleasant hike. At one point, Melina dropped her orange Tigger somewhere, and I headed back to find it (meanwhile, Jeff had offered to buy her another one, which she readily agreed to). But Tigger was found lying by the side of the trail, and became the star of several One Days about mountain lions and monster cougars. After hiking out we treated ourselves to some gloppy iced coffee drinks in Pendleton and then zipped on home back to civilization and hot showers.

The next morning, I found a tick on my stomach!

Beetle on a flower

Melina tidying the forest

 

Mountain Woman and Melina (making a funny face)

Strawberry flower

Clarkia