Eagle Cap Peak

For our 5th anniversary, Sparky decided we needed to go for a hike. A friend of ours recommended what he called an "easy" hike up one of the forks of the Lostine River to the top of Eagle Cap Peak in Oregon.

"It's all on good Forest Service trail." he said.

While this is in fact true, he failed to mention both the actual mileage covered and the elevation gain. Which in my opinion were prodigious.

So here are some pictures:

Entering the Eagle Cap Wilderness:
One of the bridges over the Lostine was washed out, so we and the dogs got to improvise:
One of the waterfalls coming from the upper valley:
One of our first glimpses of Eagle Cap Peak. It looks like it's a long ways away. And it is.
Getting closer:
Our options once we reached the head of the valley:
Sparky wetting down the dogs for the hot and exposed push to the top:
Looking East towards one of the many lakes at the head of this basin:
Sellie the puppy going for a slide:
Getting ever closer: note the two large dikes of darker rock. As far as I could tell, they were basalt intrusions into the older plutonic granite. I didn't realize the Columbia Basin flood basalts reached so far south. Though perhaps they are remnants of a different event.
Looking back North from the top of the peak. The valley on the left (that we came up) is as classic a glacier carved valley as I've ever seen: U-shaped, heading almost directly north and almost perfectly straight. Very cool.
One of the other lakes seen from the peak:
Sparky, me and the dogs. We hauled champagne up to the top for our anniversary toast:
One of the few pictures taken on the way down:
It turns out the hike was just shy of 19 miles long, with an elevation gain of just about 4000 feet. Eagle Cap peak is about 9800 feet high, and seeing as how Sparky and I live about 500 feet above sea level, the last couple thousand feet were quite difficult for us. We'd walk about 20 or 30 yards (steeply uphill), and stop for a couple of minutes until our hearts stopped racing. We did this for probably the last mile to the top.

The reason we have so few pictures on the way down is because of exhaustion. I find walking downhill quite painful (too much knee abuse when younger), so I went very slowly. By the end, though I had no blisters, the bottoms of my feet were very sore, and each step was torture. Sparky was even worse off: she'll lose the toenails on both her big toes, and she developed several large blisters to boot.

The following day, I was so sore I just stayed in bed and watched the Olympics. I'm really looking forward to what Sparky wants to do next year. Really.

Selway Day 3: The big stuff

OK, I've calmed down. So back to the trip. We had been camped at Tony Point campground, which seems like where everyone camps before running the big rapids. Just upstream from the confluence with Moose Creek, Tony Point is a great camping area, though the landing kind of sucks. Moose Creek is big. It just about doubles the flow of the Selway, and makes the river much less like a mountain stream and more like a big water river. This bears keeping in mind for those who haven't been down there before.

I didn't keep that in mind, and just about paid the price for my inattentiveness.

The first big rapid of the day was called "Double Drop." Looking at it from the left bank, It looked pretty nasty. For both CB and me, the initial impression was to do a center-working-left kind of run whereas to avoid the absolutely huge hole at the bottom right of the drop. But both of us had heard/read that the best run was a powerful right to left run thereby taking the top rocks out of play. So we decided to trust someone else's expertise, and went right.

That was a mistake.

There was so much current pushing to the right after the initial drop, neither one of us had a chance to avoid the hole. We both opted to run it backwards to take advantage of the greater power available when pulling on the oars (though I have to admit, I went backwards as much because I really thought I was going to flip, and I just didn't want to look at the hole: once I started dropping into it, I never did look anywhere except straight ahead (back upstream)).

What little downstream momentum I was able to develop by rowing backwards (I think) made the difference: I definitely got stood up, stalled and momentarily surfed, but I hit it straight on (pretty good for not looking), and was able to power my way over the top of the backwash. CB, who was right behind me, didn't have enough time to change plans, so he ended up doing pretty much the same thing.

Meanwhile, everyone else was still standing on the rock on the left above the rapid watching to see how to do it. We showed them how not to do it, and through a complicated set of hand signals, expressed our belief that the center run would probably be better. Still, they stood there, pondering something for quite a while.

Finally, Sparky stepped up to the plate, and took her cat through. It was the lightest boat in our group, and she smoked through the center run. Eventually, the others followed suit, all taking the center approach and did great.


This is Double Drop from the scouting rock on the left: even now looking at it, I don't see how I convinced myself to run it right to left. If you giganticize it, you'll see that most of the water is pushing to the right, CB and I may have been able to make it if we had simply started with our butt ends pointed to the left and gotten up a good head of steam to the left before we even entered the rapid, but we didn't. And got lucky.

Here comes a bunch of pictures in no particular order from day 3.

The yummy enchiladas. Lois revolutionized the way we make them: still just as good, but even easier to put together. Yay for Lois!

The apple crisp for dessert: I unfortunately cooked it too long so the apples got (in my opinion) too mushy, but it still tasted good.
Little Niagra: rated class IV in both our guidebooks, at the flow we were there, there was a completely flat run down the right side.
Ladle rapid: again, rated class IV, but at our level, it was an easy run pretty much down the center, though admittedly, if you got off line, it would have gotten ugly really quick.
A-frame and Backstroke lounging after a long day. This was Tango Bar beach.
Myself, Lois, and MTM building the enchiladas. As usual, there was tons of help in the kitchen, and everything went both quickly and smoothly.
Even the can crushing: Lex using the preferred "two-rock" method.
A-frame showing her mastery of the local fauna: perhaps we should change her net-name to "Fishkiller." That sounds much more ferocious than the more accurate "catch-and-release girl."
Breakfast back at Tony Point.
And the loading of the boats: everyone dressed more warmly anticipating the big whitewater just downstream.
The excellent eddy at Tango Bar:
Tango Bar was my kind of camp: big and sandy with scantily clad women strewn all over the place.