B
Friday, Sept. 6, 2019
RECREATION
REPORT
Steelhead
season under
way on several
local rivers
The steelhead
fi shing season
opened Sept. 1 on
sections of several
Northeastern Oregon
rivers. The bag limit
is one steelhead per
day through Dec. 31.
Open rivers include:
• Grande Ronde
River upstream to
Meadow Creek
• Imnaha River
downstream of Big
Sheep Creek
• Wallowa River
from the mouth
upstream to Trout
Creek
• Big Sheep Creek
downstream of Little
Sheep Creek
• Wenaha River
downstream of
Crooked Creek
• Snake River from
the state line to Hells
Canyon Dam
• Catherine
Creek upstream to
Highway 203 bridge
above Catherine
Creek State Park.
A relatively small
number of returning
steelhead is respon-
sible for the one-fi sh
daily bag limit.
“As with last year,
we have decided to
limit the daily catch
to one hatchery fi sh
per day in order to
protect the returning
wild steelhead as
well as to insure the
hatchery has enough
returning fi sh for
broodstock,” said
Winston Morton, act-
ing assistant district
fi sh biologist for the
Oregon Department
of Fish and Wildlife
in Enterprise.
The number of
steelhead returning
to the Columbia and
Snake River systems
are about 30% of
the 10-year average
so far. If numbers
increase, ODFW will
re-evaluate the one-
fi sh daily bag limit.
Free youth
pheasant hunt
Sept. 14-15 at
Ladd Marsh
Hunters 17 and
younger can hunt
pheasants for free
on Sept. 14 and 15 at
Ladd Marsh Wildlife
Area. Check-in both
days is at 7 a.m. at
59116 Pierce Road,
with hunting from
8 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Each hunter must
be accompanied by
an adult 21 or older;
adults are not al-
lowed to hunt.
Each youth hunter
must have a hunter
education certifi cate
or hunting license.
Hunters 12 or older
need an upland game
bird validation. All
participants, adults
and youth, must
wear a blaze orange
hat and vest, as well
as eye protection.
Registration
deadline is Sept. 9. To
register go to odfw.
huntfi shoregon.
com. More informa-
tion is available by
calling organizer Kyle
Martin at 541-963-
4954 or by email at
kyle.w.martin@state.
or.us
The Observer & Baker City Herald
Pondering Mountain Passes
Lisa Britton/For the EO Media Group-2017
The view west from Polaris Pass takes in much of the Eagle Cap Wilderness. The pass, the highest in the Wallowa Mountains crossed by an of-
fi cial trail, is on the divide between the West and East forks of the Wallowa River.
Just passing by
Some of the more
memorable climbs
I’ve made in the
mountains brought
me to low ground
rather than high.
Well, sort of.
The summits in these cases
are low only by comparison to
their surrounding topography.
By any other measure,
though, they are quite
elevated.
It is no coincidence that
mountain passes, though by
defi nition they occupy the
place where a ridge, or in
some cases an entire range,
dips, are often described as
“high passes.”
Humans have a particular
fascination with superlatives,
of course. This explains in
part why mountain peaks,
and especially those that
dominate the terrain for
dozens of miles around, hold
us in such awe.
Passes, by contrast, which
typically afford travelers a
way to avoid rather than
surmount a summit, are less
likely to inspire poetic odes to
the grandeur of nature.
It’s why the Theodule Pass
in the Swiss Alps is relatively
obscure — so much so that
the internet seems unable to
agree on whether to include
the fi nal “e” — but the peak
it skirts — the Matterhorn —
is perhaps the most famous
mountain in the world.
But even though passes
tend to languish in the
shadows of nearby summits,
both literally and fi guratively,
some of these breaches in
mountainous ramparts have
yielded a cultural history
at least as rich as those of
neighboring peaks.
This is logical, given
that passes serve the basic
purpose of allowing us to get
where we want to go as ef-
fi ciently as possible.
Climbing inaccessible
peaks, by contrast, has al-
ways struck some of the more
sober-minded among us as
folly — and worse still the
ON THE TRAIL
JAYSON JACOBY
sort of folly than can leave a
climber with toes blackened
by frostbite or a skull dashed
in by a tumbling chunk of
granite or limestone.
To critics there is a strong
and bitter fl avor of selfi sh-
ness to the enterprise, this
risking of precious life for a
dubious achievement that
serves no greater good.
Discovering and then
utilizing a mountain pass,
by contrast, is the sort of
endeavor that has a wider
societal appeal — and, often,
benefi t.
Blazing trails and railroads
and highways through wild
country can also be danger-
ous, of course, what with the
nature of mountain weather
and the occasional avalanche
or landslide or antagonistic
grizzly.
But for some people the
potential sacrifi ce can at least
be justifi ed if for instance
the effort opens a new trade
route, traditionally a common
reason to devise a passage
through the mountains.
I’ve long been intrigued by
the history of passes, and in
particular their progression
from footpath to wagon train
to, in many cases, modern
highway.
When I started hiking
regularly as a teenager my
interest in passes expanded
to include ones that, rather
than becoming thoroughfares
where 18-wheelers groan
their way up 6% grades, re-
main rudimentary, with only
a trail marking the passage.
When I was growing up in
Stayton, on the eastern edge
of the Willamette Valley, I
was especially enamored of
two passes through the Cas-
cades — the Santiam and the
McKenzie, each named for a
nearby river and both crossed
by a paved highway.
Jayson Jacoby / EO Media Group
Marble Creek Pass in the Elkhorn Mountains west of Baker City is also the southern
terminus of the Elkhorn Crest National Recreation Trail.
Lisa Britton/For the EO Media Group-2016
The view from Ivan Carper Pass, between the East and West forks of the Lostine River,
includes Eagle Cap (at right), and Upper (the smaller lake) and Mirror lakes. Polaris
Pass is the low spot between the two brownish-red peaks at the left.
We drove across the
Santiam Pass whenever we
visited Central Oregon and
even today, after living for a
few decades on the other end
of the state, the elevation of
except just “the pass,” it being
its summit — 4,817 feet —
unnecessary to specify which
comes to mind as easily as
one we meant.
my phone number.
See Passing/Page 2B
We never called it anything