| From West by Northwest.org Arts & Letters Photography: The Wallowas' Breathless Beauty By Michael Kemp, text and photos for West By Northwest.org Dec 23, 2003
In this cool foggy season near the shortest day of the year, we remember a long sweet moment when time is magical. It's summer. So there we were, a couple of desk-jocky 40-somethings hoisting packs too full, too heavy, too round (us, the packs - take your pick). I've always wanted to go to the center of Eagle Cap Wilderness. Ever since reading The Wallowas - Coming of Age in the Wilderness by William Ashworth way back in my youth. I had backpacked in to the Hummingbird Mountain area decades ago ... and made another trip along the north edge of the mountains with my then-wife and young son. We never got far from the car. I always felt the call of the Wallowa lake basin. And never quite got there. Until last summer.
The North edge of the Wallowa Mountains rises directly out of the plateau and canyon country that stretches flat and dry toward the confluence of the Snake and Columbia rivers. There is no prelude on the North slope. No foothills. Just grassy plains and ranches butting up against the mountain roots.
The day Danita and I arrived a purple smudge of fire haze had rolled up against the bulwark of granite. We took a day to be tourists. Took the tram from Wallowa Lake to the top of Mt. Howard. Had burgers and beer at in a little restaurant at 8,000'. Spent the afternoon admiring the views and getting our lungs used to hiking around up in the mountains. Ah yes - there we were the next morning getting reacquainted with those rounded, overweight packs. Backpacks and I have a love/hate relationship. I love where they let me camp. Then there's the weight. Straps and belts and buckles cutting, biting, making tourniquet marks on my nice soft office-colored flesh. God have mercy. Pass the ibuprofen.
The first two miles of trail climb 2,000' feet. Ankle twisting, horse-flop hopping switchbacks. The trail plays tag with East Lostine River. On the West side of the Cascades this would be called a creek. Water so clear it's like flowing crystal. Each pebble, each hunk of granite showing rich colors through the rush and foam.
OK ... so how much of the weight I'm carrying is my own extra pounds, how much is extra food, how much it all adds up to is way too much! Switchbacks. Rocks. Going up. More up. Way more up. And if that's not enough, there's more ahead, just lift your eyes up from the trail dust and look. Then we break over the lip into Lostine meadows.
And our first glimpse of Eagle Cap. Stagger to a shaded boulder. Rest and refreshments. Then mile after mile hiking the side hills of the lovely Lostine meadows ... Eagle Cap slowly growing larger by the hour. Then another hour or two climbing out of Lostine meadows and up on to the skirts of Eagle Cap. Toward the goal. Mirror Lake.
When we actually arrived I had no thought of taking a photo. Just gasping and staggering to an available campsite. The mirror like photo of Eagle Cap in Mirror Lake is from the next morning. And what a morning. What a place. Several photos follow. All I can say is that they do NOT do justice to Eagle Cap Wilderness. Trust me on this one. I remember feeling sick with exhaustion when we finally found a campsite. But I would not be surprised to find myself panting and struggling back up the trail next Summer. This is a place where beauty is something you move inside of. You breath it. You walk in it. Touch it. Smell it.Keep Well! Michael Kemp all photos (c) 2003 by Michael Kemp
Michael Kemp is an Oregon photographer, artist and web designer as well as a computer programmer. You may find his photography at West By Northwest.org since our first issues. His story and photographs about installing his wooden yurt is one of WxNW.org' most popular items in the archives. Also visit his Solstices contributions in the West By Northwest.org Holiday Reader. © Copyright 2000-2004 by West by Northwest.org |
