While wildfires raged in the Cascades, I spent some time in the Ochoco highlands. The smoke restricted photo opportunities, and made the air hard to breathe; but the area was very peaceful. I was not actually in the wilderness area, but camped a few hundred yards from its northern boundary.
The Bridge Creek Wilderness is south of the town of Mitchell, OR on the northern edge of Numu territory. I don’t have any stories of the people here—I’m still looking.
I was attracted to this area by a structure visible on a Satellite photo. It looked like old railroad tracks. However the area is not easy to access. There are no roads leading directly to the portions of the structure visible on the image. The closest road looks to be almost a mile away, still close enough to reach on foot. There is a possibility that the track comes closer to the road as it disappears into the forest.
On reaching the area I found that the road was washed out so steeply that I couldn’t climb down and back up again. This was all under cover so it wasn’t visible from the air.
When I arrived on site, I discovered that the structure is not an abandoned railroad track, but an old water pipe. What look like railroad ties are actually supports for metal pipe. Someone had collected some of the pipe and piled it along the road. Much more of it must have been collected and removed.
I guess the metal is worth something as scrap, but it probably falls under the antiquity protection act. I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder, perhaps it’s history, but it looks like trash to me.
After unsuccessfully trying a few more access points, I gave up the quest and drove higher into the mountains to find a campsite. I passed through an area that had burned about a decade ago. The new growth is about ten feet tall and provides wonderful browse and cover for deer and elk. Driving slowly, with the window down, I heard a few large animals crashing away from my truck. They were shielded from view by the new growth.
I saw many folks camped along the paved road into the mountains. Once I reached the gravel road, I didn’t see a soul. I was quite concerned as this area is only a 25-mile drive from Mitchell and a 40-mile drive from Prineville. Happily, folks camped within a few yards of the paved road.
Due to several downed trees blocking the access road, I was not able to get to the summit site I had marked on the photos. I was able to find a spot in a grassy saddle with some trees for shade. The remnants of an old fire ring identified a previously used campsite.
I cut poles to support a tarp and pitched it over the back of the camper shell. Setting the tarp up in this manner ensures that the interior of the shell and the tailgate are always in shade. This means that I can set up my radio and the battery for the Jackery solar generator in the shade. Setup this way, the tarp also protects from rain. It does NOT protect against lynx (or bobcat, or whatever it was); which I discovered a few years back.
Mountain pine beetles have killed a lot of trees in this area of the forest. More have died within the last year, most likely from water stress. Meaning that over the next few winters, many more trees will fall across the road.
The area in which I camped is a meadow covered in thigh-high grass. On one edge of the meadow, I found a salt block in a dusty bowl in the grass. Adjacent to the bowl stood an inverted tire serving as a feeding station. It was empty and over turned.
I arrived about dinner time. In deference to a state-wide burn ban, I cooked my food on a camp stove, eschewing a campfire. The full moon was due to rise this evening, so views of the deep sky would be limited. The moonlight didn’t matter, as smoke dimmed even the view of the moon. I made it an early night, falling asleep to the dry stick crackles of creatures moving about the surrounding woods.
Morning was announced by the hammering and calls of White-headed and hairy woodpeckers foraging on the dead trees surrounding the meadow. I setup my camera and despite almost three hours of stalking, I was unable to get a decent photograph. The dark backed birds stuck to the shady side of the tree weaving between branches just ahead of my viewfinder. I was able to get a few shots of a Hairy woodpecker.
About noon the birds moved off into the forest to do whatever they do when they aren’t waking sleeping humans.
I spent the afternoon tracking deer and elk through the forest next to the meadow. At one point I came across the trail of a medium-sized cat; either a large Bobcat or a small Mountain Lion. I spent quite a bit of time working out the trail, but could only follow it for about 15 feet. They are so light on their feet that it is really difficult to track them through the pine needles.
This photograph looked so much clearer in the field. The light was so bad that I should have tried a flashlight to create some shadows.
I listened to shortwave in the late afternoon and evening. Despite the elevation, reception wasn’t as good as it had been in the desert. The furthest contact I heard was from Iowa. They were talking to Florida but I couldn’t pick up the other side of the conversation. Again, the smoke obscured the stars.
I hunted for scorpions amidst the logs, but found none.
The smoke kept me in camp, where I read from the memoirs of Hudson’s Bay Trader Samuel Hearne. Mr. Hearne was significant for bringing an appreciation for the ability of native workers in expanding the HBC’s reach and effectiveness. He sought to incorporate native families in his explorations. He also learned that living like the natives allowed him to explore much more easily than he had before. His experiences formed HBC attitudes to the native people for the next hundred years.
At the time the HBC sat on the shores of Hudson’s Bay and waited for the Natives to bring the furs to them. Rumors of a copper mine along the shores of the Arctic Ocean spurred the desire for an expedition to verify them. Since ice blocked the northern shore for most, if not all, of the year an expedition to discover the source of the copper would have to be overland.
An overland expedition to the Arctic from York would take months. On his first try, Samuel packed food for months, along with tents, boxes of books, and other necessary gear. To carry all of this he hired native porters. When the going got tough, they filtered off into the woods leaving him to carry his own baggage. He was back at the fort within six weeks.
On his second try, he left much of the food and gear. He hired locals to carry his tent and necessaries, as well as to hunt. He made it further this time but still turned around because the locals once again abandoned him. The men on the expedition missed their families, and needed winter clothing which their wives would make for them.
On this third try he figured out that he needed to travel like the natives. That is, take minimal baggage, live off the land, and most importantly include both native men and women. He found that the natives had a strict division of labor requiring both sexes to work together for survival success.
After Mr. Hearne’s success in making the expedition to and from the Arctic Ocean. The HBC slowly accepted the usefulness of working with the native people. Over the next fifty years many HBC leaders encouraged their employees to marry into local populations. This accrued many benefits to the Company, not the least of which was a new race of employees who were born to the wilderness—the Metis.
Samuel Hearne’s experiences would change the culture of both the Northwest Company and the HBC. So much so, that by the mid-19th century most of the HBC administrators had indigenous wives. Many HBC family names are still on the roster of Pacific Northwest Indian reservations.
At one point my reading was interrupted by the calls of a young Golden Eagle. I grabbed my camera but the eagle pair disappeared into the valley chasing what prey they could find.
In late afternoon the wind cleared the smoke enough that I decided to climb to the top of the eastern knob. On the way I checked the campsite that I had marked.
It’s a lovely spot but the grass is very thick and tall. I’m guessing that there hasn’t been much grazing here this year. As the access road is marked open on the Forest Motor Vehicle Use Map, it would definitely be worth clearing it to gain access.
The views were still compromised due to smoke but still worth the trouble.
Having come by the ridge-top I didn’t realize how steeply the ground sloped away from this peak. This should have resulted in a few vistas, but the surrounding slopes were not suitable for logging so large trees ringed the summit. Alas, no views were suitable for a time-lapse cloud photo—not that there were any clouds in sight—yet.
As I returned to camp, clouds moved in from the southwest. The weather report noted a 30% chance of rain overnight. Not wanting to pack up wet, I took down the tarp and sheltered all my camp gear before retiring for the night. I wanted to leave early enough to see who would be wandering the roads come morning.
The morning drive yielded seven deer and two elk. The elk were off to the right side of the truck and gone too quickly for me to even get the camera up. That’s the problem with photographing and driving–the driving has to come first. I was able to get some deer photos, but none were all that stellar. I need more practice shooting quickly from the truck. That’s something I can do at the refuge.
This was a nice relaxing trip. I will return to this area of the forest when the smoke clears. The knob looks like a prime ungulate retreat. There is both grass for grazing and shrubs for browsing. When I return I’ll clear some of the trees across the road. Perhaps eventually I can make it to the top.
Oh and I didn’t find any scorpions here either. I guess that I’ll have to look further.
Thanks!