1. by Lacy Turner
M
y introduction to
Oregon’s desert
country, like all of my
best-loved wildernesses
in the state, came from my best hiking
friend Rodney. I moved to Portland
from Sedona, Arizona and complained
for years about being a cactus stuck
in mushroom land, until Rodney had
finally had enough. On my birthday in
1993 he showed up at my door with
a BLM map (The Burns District South
Half), a newsletter from the Oregon
Natural Desert Association (ONDA)
and a card on which was written: Get
the hell out to Oregon’s high desert
and stop complaining about being
stuck in this amazing state!
The Burns District South Half was
reduced to tatters the remainder of the ‘90s
visiting Steens Mountain, the Alvord Desert,
Malheur and Hart Mountain. I hiked on
sagebrush-crowded paths, scrambled up
dry ridges and found my real Oregon home
in the balance of east and west, desert and
forest. I met plenty of other Mazamas on
ONDA volunteer trips to remove obsolete
barbed wire out of Steens and Hart
Mountains. (Rodney had also shown up at
my door with an application card for the
Mazamas.) In 2000 I drove as far southeast
as one can in Oregon to the Owyhee
Canyonlands, and fell in love at first hike.
My Owyhee reconnaissance began at
Three Forks, where the North and Middle
Forks of the Owyhee join the main river
in a deep, complicated canyon. That first
hike I fell for was a rugged slog up Middle
Fork’s narrow canyon wherein I waded
deep pools with my daypack held up over
my head. I had signed on with a group
from the Northern Rockies (Idaho) Sierra
Club. They took me river-walking up the
North Fork’s streambed and on the classic
Three Forks hike: an old wagon route along
the river to hot springs pools surrounded
by waterfalls. Sitting in a hot springs pool
high above the Owyhee River I learned that
“Owyhee” was a 19th-century spelling for
Hawaii. The river was named when three
Hawaiians, hired by the Hudson’s Bay
Company as beaver trappers, were killed
near the river by Indians.
Three Forks is one of the most remote
places in Oregon, in “ION” country, where
Idaho, Oregon and Nevada converge. The
Owyhee desert ecosystem covers almost
9 million acres across three states, a
region so vast and isolated that it’s called
the American Outback. Rafters love the
Owyhee for its Wild and Scenic River
designation and famous rapids. Forks of
the Owyhee form a far-reaching network of
deep canyons carved into ancient lava
flows. The area is filled with arches
and hoodoos, sagebrush deserts and
juniper-dotted mountains, and I wanted
to explore as much of it as I could on
foot.
Rodney traveled to the Owyhee with
me once, to Three Forks, on what he
called the “Saved by the Sheep Trip.”
Over a long weekend in June we dealt
with rattlesnakes; a tire blowout and a
flat; and poison oak that plagued Rodney
for six months. Starting home, we saw three
Bighorn sheep, still as statues, at the crest of
Three Forks Road. (He still turns down my
yearly invitations to visit the Honeycombs
of the lower Owyhee.)
When ONDA’s Owyhee Coordinator,
Chris Hansen, posted the Honeycombs
Wilderness study Area volunteer outing
for June 2013 and let it be known that our
Owyhee Canyonlands:
A Love Affair
8—Mazama Bulletin

2. work would be hiking and scrambling,
the goal therein to “fall in love” with
the area, I jumped on it. The dry
canyons between the Owyhee Reservoir
and Three Fingers Gulch had been
on my short list for years, the sort of
rugged trail-free hiking that I enjoy the
most but would never take on alone. I
would finally get to the Honeycombs
formations, where over millions of
years soft spots in volcanic rock had
weathered into holes and niches in
gulches lined with color-changing cliffs.
Painted Canyon, I just knew, would be
the highlight of the trip.
We camped at Succor Creek State
Natural Area in a menagerie of hikers,
rock hounds and ATVs, but we were off
all day to deep secluded canyons where
no motors were allowed. Our first hike,
down Carleton Canyon to the confluence
of Painted Canyon and back up, was a
scrambler's delight. We slid down dry
waterfalls, edged into cliffs and did hand
to hand climbing. The canyon bottoms
were a maze of six-foot tall sagebrush
and gigantic boulders. The play of clouds
turned the towering formations orange,
purple, red and kept the “honeycomb”
cavities in stark relief. A rain shower
turned the jeep track into custard and the
slippery drive back to camp was, as Chris
had promised, “an adventure in itself.”
That night back at camp we hatched a
new plan: start out late morning the next
day and hike into the night. It was the
weekend of the Supermoon, the largest
moon of year. We’d climb up Juniper
Gulch in the heat, cool off in the Owyhee
Reservoir, picnic at dusk and head into
Timber Gulch after dark for the big moon.
Real gravel roads led us to Leslie
Gulch, where 15-million years ago a
volcano blasted out a basin that filled with
volcanic ash. The ash hardened to rock
and flash floods chiseled narrow ravines
with colorful cliffs, which for hikers means
that Leslie Gulch is a canyon offering five
interesting side canyons. One of them,
Juniper Gulch, has an actual mile of trail.
We took it past enormous overhanging
cliffs to its terminus at a monumental
slab of honeycombed rock; then climbed
out the top of Juniper Gulch to a high
plateau view of Steens Mountain on the
far horizon. I had read that Timber is
the most beautiful gulch of the four and
I would undoubtedly concur had I not
hiked it at night.
It is amazing how quiet ten people
can be in a creek bed in the dark, all
stepping where the leader has put his
feet, climbing up walls where sagebrush
claimed the ground, each pair of eyes on
the boot heels in the headlamp’s beam.
We followed Chris left past a huge black
barrier (a 200-foot rock wall, he told us)
to canyon’s end in an amphitheater
(so he said) where we settled back
on the ground to watch the stars
come on. Moon beams on the walls
in front of us stole the show; they
crept up from the ground and played on
ridge tops, lit up cliffs of wild pinnacles
and then a path to the big yellow projector
itself above the rim. We stayed into the
chill and finally, almost noiselessly, hiked
out.
The Saturday night revelers had long
gone to bed when we rolled into Succor
Creek campground, the boom box down
south was tucked in for the night. It
was so quiet I could hear moon-addled
swallows swoop over the creek. I heated
milk and pulled my chair down to the
water. What a night! It was one of those
serendipitous wilderness surprises, not
even on my radar until I am smack in the
middle of it, like the three Bighorn sheep.
The most amazing part of the trip was the
least expected. I found the balm of desert
solitude with ten other people in a narrow
canyon in the middle of the night.
Resources with better factoids:
The Oregon Natural Desert
Association’s new Wild Owyhee website
is online—wildowyhee.org, click “Getting
There” for directions and maps.
ONDA’s online guide to the 800-mile
Oregon Desert Trail includes maps, GPS
From left to right: Juniper Gulch, Leslie Gulch
Wilderness Study Area. Mazama Barb Engel in
Carlton Canyon. Formations in Painted Canyon.
Hiking above Juniper Gulch. Photos: Lacy Turner
continued on next page
May/2014—9

3. With lighter snow fall this
year than in the past we have
moved up our spring work party
to Saturday, May 31. At the
current rate of snow melting you
can expect summer driving access
to the lodge to begin before the
end of May. The work party is
scheduled from 9 a.m.–3 p.m.
Enjoy a complimentary lunch
after an honest day`s work.
Volunteers are welcome to come
up the night before for a free
night`s stay with meals or just
come Saturday and receive a
coupon to come at a later date.
As usual we will be getting wood
split and stacked with our new
hydraulic splitter!
The Lost Lake Chuckwagon
Weekend is July 25–27. Hike
Leader Rick Amodeo will be
leading this year`s hike from
Timberline Lodge to Lost
Lake with an overnight stay
at Lost Creek Campground
with a Grilled Steak Dinner
or a Vegetarian option of
Grilled Mushrooms. For more
information see page 17. You can
also reach Rick at ricka@aaieng.
com.
May is our slowest month
at the lodge. During a typical
weekend we host fewer than
a dozen guests ... so if you are
looking a little solitude, this is the
month to visit.
Lodge
Manager: Charles Barker; Caretaker: Amanda Richards
503-272-9214, mazama.lodge@mazamas.org
News
tracks and waypoints, and
town information for the 213-
mile section of the trail in the
Owyhee Canyonlands: onda.
org.
The Oregon Chapter of the
Sierra Club features Owyhee
information; check out their
High Desert Committee’s
outings: oregon.sierraclub.org/
conserv/hidsrt/outings.asp
William L. Sullivan’s
Owyhee hikes in 100 Hikes/
Travel Guide: Eastern Oregon
(Leslie Gulch, Coffee Pot Crater
and Three Forks) and chapters
in Exploring Oregon’s Wild
Areas (Upper Owyhee River
and Lower Owyhee River)
provide a general overview for
those of us who like to mark up
real books.
The BLM offers GPS
coordinates and a wealth of
maps as part of their Owyhee
Canyonlands Wilderness and
Wild and Scenic Rivers plan
and assessment. (Allow me
to echo a line from the Wild
Owyhee website: The time
to permanently protect the
Owyhee Canyonlands is now.)
Driving conditions can be
challenging in the Owyhee;
a full-size spare tire, towing
straps and board for your jack
are strongly suggested.
I carry water-hiking shoes
and an extra pair of hiking
boots, snake-bite and first
aid kits, use my hiking poles
rather than a “snake stick” and
keep a 5-gallon container of
water in the car. The Owyhee
Canyonlands are a scenic
wonder year round, but May,
June and late September into
October are best for decent
weather and passable roads.
Anyone for night time foray
in a canyon off Lesley Gulch
Road?
Top: BCEP students do their snow practice inside the
warm lodge.
Bottom: Guest speaker Jon Bell and family enjoy
breakfast with their family dog Bruno.
Photos: Charles Barker
Owyhee Love
Affair,
continued from previous page
10—Mazama Bulletin