I finagled a three-day weekend away from the office. The Subaru is neatly packed, the gas tank full, the GPS estimates we will arrive in Enterprise, Oregon in a little over four hours. We back out the driveway and head south at 6:00 p.m. on a Thursday evening in early August, craving an escape to higher altitudes.
We are headed to the Wallowa Mountains in the Eagle Cap Wilderness area within the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest. The Eagle Cap Wilderness area is Oregon’s largest at 556 square miles and is the ultimate playground for the outdoor enthusiast. It offers 534 miles of developed trails for exploring the over 50 alpine lakes and 32 peaks over 8,000 feet. A childlike excitement comes over me as I begin our journey.
As daylight fades to dusk, we weave our way down the canyon to Lewiston at the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers. From Lewiston, the road south is mostly uneventful until the road begins a relentless procession of hairpin turns that are enough to make a sailor carsick. The winding continues until we reach the crossing of the Grand Ronde River, beautiful in the moonlit night. There is another fifteen miles or so of nausea as the road curves and bends, snakes and winds to the final straightaway that brings us to Enterprise, Oregon.
It’s past 11:00 p.m. We arrive at the hotel weary, grateful for the receptionist who stayed open late to check us in. The hotel parking lot is full of firefighters’ trucks. Several crews of firefighters are getting a night’s rest in the motel before heading back to battle the Hurricane Creek forest fire at first light.
The next morning, while packing up the car, we meet with some of the firefighters in the parking lot of the hotel. We quiz the fireman on the Hurricane Creek fire and ask them for their assessment of the fire dangers in the Lostine, where we are headed. Having just been in the Lostine the day before, they give us their blessing to head out. We all leave the parking lot at the same early hour, heading into the wilderness for very different reasons.
Naturally, we stop for a latte at the local coffee shop en route to the trail head. We drive to the town of Lostine, where we head up the Lostine River seventeen miles to where the road ends at Two Pan Campground. There are over forty cars and horse trailers in the car park, a sign that we’ll have company on the trail. Mindful of the fire danger, we carefully fill out the permit info before depositing our permit and cash into the drop box. I chose the trail to Mirror Lake up the east side of the Lostine River due to its relatively gentle nature in comparison to the strenuous trek up to nearby Ice Lake.
We begin our journey under cloudy skies, with a twenty percent chance of thunderstorms per the NOAA.org forecast. I must confess,a thunderstorm in the mountains is my kryptonite. I cower when I hear the thunder reverberate off the granite peaks of the mountains near home and jump at every lightning bolt. But for the scenery and trail system before me in the Wallows, I decide I can deal with today’s odds.
Packed for two nights, we planned to set base camp at Mirror Lake, then summit Eagle Cap and explore the Lake Basin with light day packs. The first two miles of the trail switches back and forth and gains about 1,500 ft. of elevation until we reach the meadow. Here, the view opens up to the breathtaking valley. The clouds begin to part giving us sneak peeks of Eagle Cap before us, impressive at 9,572 ft. Hiking the trail itself is a social event of sorts; we are greeted by a steady procession of travelers headed back to the trail head on foot, on horseback, and on mules. I enjoy making small talk with the hikers and sizing up their gear to make mental estimations of how many days they have spent in the Wilderness Area. I appreciate how well marked, well maintained and in some ways, how well traveled the trail is. It is fun to see so many people of all ages enjoying the wilderness, respecting the trail and wearing infectious smiles that evidence the success of their journey. This is what a real day off is made of.
We meander through the valley, pausing to inspect unique rocks and bantering over whether they are sedimentary, metamorphic, or igneous, a side effect of being parents of an eighth grader.
The sun is out now and the skies have cleared. We stop at the bridge over Lostine Creek, dump our packs, remove our boots, and wade into the refreshing water. We laugh as the water, fed by the snowmelt on the peaks, quickly changes from refreshing to frigid to ‘I can’t feel my feet’ cold.
Invigorated, we resume up the trail to complete the last few miles of trail to Mirror Lake. Unlike so many of my favorite haunts closer to home, there are plentiful camp spots to choose from on the rock benches along the north shore of the lake. We disperse into the customary activity of seeking out the best possible camp site. We find it, no question, and begin to set up camp. I rinse off the day’s sweat at a sandy little beach below the campsite and don long sleeves and pants, a protective layer of clothing in defense against the army of mosquitos that dusk has summoned. By now, there is not a breath of wind. The lake is still, perfectly peaceful and serene (except for said mosquitos). My cell phone and email are distant memories. I give a thankful nod to my associate who graciously offered to handle the weekend’s business, affording me this special retreat. I grab the water bottles, bladders, and filter and wander over to the lake’s drainage to stock up on water for the next day’s adventure. Along the way, I spot the Matterhorn to the north; her twisted spire leaves no question as to why the peak bears the namesake of Switzerland’s crooked beauty. You begin to realize why this area is commonly referred to as the Little Switzerland of America.
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I select a freeze dried package of food for dinner, try a bit, and carefully make note of the name on the packet so as to never purchase it again. Anyway, I am more interested in the photographic opportunities that dusk offers. We chase the light with our cameras up and down the shoreline, snapping photos and trying to capture and record the beauty of this place in this moment. We enjoy this challenge until the day’s light is gone. The moon, nearly full, rises and rests in a saddle above the lake’s drainage creek, delighting us before bedtime. At an elevation of 7,595ft, the low temperature hovers around the perfect sleeping temperature of forty degrees. After carrying full packs for eight miles and busying ourselves around camp all evening, we sleep soundly.
The next morning, after admonishing myself for sleeping through the best light of the morning, I stumble out of the tent and head toward the lake with my camera. There is not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind. The mountain’s reflection on the lake makes for the type of photos where you can’t decipher right-side-up from upside-down. The morning sun is casting a glorious amber glow on Eagle Cap. I am thankful for this sight and cognizant that so many people never have the opportunity to see such beauty. Here is Mirror Lake, beneath Eagle Cap Peak in the Eagle Cap Wilderness area, arguably one of earth’s most beautiful spots, a mere four-and-a-half hour drive and eight-mile hike from home.
While sipping a powdered Starbucks Via coffee, we pack a few energy bars and head down the trail to summit Eagle Cap, passing the pristine Upper Lake. We turn off at Horton Pass and head toward the summit. Eagle Cap, at 9,575ft, offers sweeping views of Hurricane Canyon (where the wildfire has been burning), the Matterhorn, Glacier Lake and the seemingly endless Lostine Canyon, from which we came the day before. From Eagle Cap, we see the smoke slithering into parts of the Lostine Canyon and thickening in Hurricane Canyon. We’d planned to spend the day exploring nearby lakes in the basin, but despite the forecast for light winds, we make the decision to descend back to camp and hike out. It’s a bittersweet decision to forego the extra night and the planned exit via Minam Lake and the longer West Lostine River Trail. As we re-trace our steps out the Lostine, the smoke slowly thickens throughout the afternoon. By the time we hike out and navigate back to Enterprise, Oregon, the skies are so smoky that we realize we made a sound decision.
Not all is lost; it’s a perfect time to enjoy a post-hike brew at Terminal Gravity Brew Pub in Enterprise. The brew pub offers a variety of beers and quaint seating in their eclectic garden setting. As the smoke settles into the mountains making them barely visible, we raise our glasses to toast the weather we enjoyed and to not tempting fate. We wander down the road to Wallowa Lake State Park and secure their last remaining tent site due to the crowds gathered for the annual Bronze, Blues and Brews Festival in Joseph, Oregon. After a cleansing swim in Wallowa Lake, it’s time to head into Joseph to peruse the gift shops and grab a bite on the patio at Embers Restaurant and Pub. Joseph offers trendy shops and restaurants, and is rich in Native American history. The real beauty of the Wallowas is that you don’t have to enjoy hiking to experience the mountains. The mountains rise nearly 6,000 ft. straight up from the valleys. You can enjoy being a tourist or a trekker in a place like the Wallowas. Near the State Park, a tram ascends tourists 3,700 feet up to the top of Mt. Howard, an 8,000+ ft. peak. The tram ride offers views of the blue waters of Wallowa Lake and the Wallowa Valley, where Chief Joseph and his people spent their summers.
In the morning after coffee, we reluctantly head home. The circuitous road doesn’t aggravate my stomach as much driving it in the daylight. I spend a good deal of time on the way to Lewiston contemplating my next trip to the Wallowas. It’s 98 degrees, so I propose a swim stop at Hell’s Gate State Park. The guard spots our Idaho State Park Pass on the windshield and waves us through. We spend hours alternately swimming laps in the swim area and soaking up the sun on the sandy beach of the Snake River, while a diverse arrangement of boats parade up and down the river. We pack up after a heated underwater handstand competition and head for just the place to satisfy our hunger, Lewiston style. We stop at Effie Burger on the main drag heading through town. Effie Burger is one of those mystifying places, an iconic local staple, a tourists’ box to tick off their to-do list when visiting the city. If you have been to Effie Burger, rest assured, we split one monster-sized burger between the three of us, and still don’t conquer it. Satisfied, we return to the car and head north.
At 7:00 p.m., I power my phone back on, re-entering reality as we roll in to Coeur d’Alene. I don’t do so begrudgingly, but refreshed and thankful for the weekend’s escape. After all, we were lucky enough to spend a weekend in Switzerland… the Little Switzerland of America, that is. See you on the trail.
By Denise Lundy
Photography By David Ronalds
As Featured In: Winter/Spring 2015
1 Comment
Really enjoyed the narration. So descriptive and flows so easily. A beautiful country we have. At 85 now, my “trips” are via people like you. Thank you!