Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The Observer. (La Grande, Or.) 1968-current | View Entire Issue (Jan. 16, 2021)
B Saturday, January 16, 2021 The Observer & Baker City Herald Lisa Britton/For EO Media Group The Elkhorn Mountains from Sumpter Valley, about 25 miles southwest of Baker City. W INTER W ANDERLUST T he malady affl icts me ev- ery January, as certain as the handful of fi r needles the vacuum cleaner fails to inhale after the Christmas tree has been dragged to its ignominious end. Wanderlust. A fi ne word, that. “Lust” expresses the powerful na- ture of my desire to leave the house, which felt so cozy and welcoming during the holidays but now seems more like a comfortable yet confi n- ing prison, as stale as the mounds of icy, dirt-streaked snow that line the driveway. The lure to explore the outdoors, a place which even in its most fa- miliar guise still retains an endless capacity to surprise and delight, is closer to a compulsion than a gentle tug. Usually I satisfy this craving on foot. But occasionally I have an urge to see considerably more country than I can at the modest pace of my own locomotion. And once this idea lodges in my mind its stubbornness is formidable, as diffi cult to prise off as beggar’s lice that latches to a bootlace. I satiated my appetite for ad- venture on Saturday, Jan. 9, with a road trip that includes an eclectic mixture of the Blue Mountains’ di- verse scenery, along with a dollop of history and even a bit of poignancy. The 215-mile loop, all on paved ON THE ROAD JAYSON JACOBY roads, is perfectly suited for a one- day trip, even accounting for the likelihood of snow and ice through the half-dozen passes, and the ab- breviated daylight of midwinter. Starting from our home in Baker City, my family and I drove the route clockwise, in part because we planned to get dinner in La Grande and because I preferred that the only extended freeway stint would also be the fi nal leg. If you embark from La Grande the opposite direction might be more attractive, taking you up the Grande Ronde River initially rather than along 43 miles of I-84 to Baker City. We started by following a differ- ent river — the Powder — via High- way 7, which traces the Powder’s course upstream to near its source in Sumpter. The night before we left, the skies cleared after a stormy stretch. As we passed Phillips Reservoir and had our fi rst unobscured view of the west side of the Elkhorns I told my wife, Lisa, that I didn’t recall ever seeing this range — our backyard mountains, literally — look quite so pristinely white. The coating of new snow was so thorough that trees high on the ridges had lost the green tint that even heavily snow- laden conifers usually have. The mountains might have been dipped in marshmallow cream. Our kids, Max and Olivia, seemed more concerned that the old man keep his eyes on the road, a frequent admonition from the back seat. We navigated the two passes along Highway 7 — Larch and Tipton summits — then turned right at Bates, the erstwhile sawmill town, onto the two-lane county road that follows the Middle Fork of the John Day River west for 40 miles to Highway 395. The Middle Fork Road is among my favorite drives. It’s especially beguiling in winter. Oftentimes, as was the case on Jan. 9, the route begins in undis- tilled winter, with snow a couple of feet deep (including a few fresh, unplowed, inches on the road from the previous day’s storm).Yet as the river makes its gradual descent, as all rivers must, the snow depth di- minishes and eventually disappears but for scanty patches in the most protected glades. As the elevation dips from 4,200 feet at Bates to 2,900 at Highway 395, the terrain steadily sheds its typical Blue Mountains mixture of pine, fi r and tamarack, replaced by Lisa Britton/For EO Media Group grass, sage and an occasional clump The historic Galena Cemetery is in Grant County, near the old of western junipers. gold-mining town of the same name. The immaculately maintained See Wanderlust/Page 2B cemetery is on a knoll in a forest of second-growth ponderosa pines. The Devil Birds ■ The sometimes painful challenge of hunting chukar Carefully picking myself up from the edge of a jagged, ice-covered, granite face, I grimaced at the sharp pain in my right hip. My setter, Finn, was entangled between intense interest in a lone sagebrush in which a brace of chukar had just departed, and passing sidelong glances of puzzlement at me as I stretched, groaned, cursed, and struggled to remain up- right. Although furious and frustrated, I gazed in awe at the high bluffs above the Columbia River, covered in a fresh blanket of light snow. The chukar pair young Finn had busted were UPLAND the cause of the fall. PURSUITS Reacting in panic as they careened across canyon, BRAD TRUMBO my footing failed on the iced-over, near-vertical The water was glass-slick, re- slope. “The fall didn’t kill me, fl ecting perfectly the contours but Ali might,” I explained to of the shoreline. Finn as she wagged, bliss- Wincing again, I recovered fully ignorant. “I am done the new Browning pump that with chukar!” was my next my wife recently purchased utterance. as her upland bird gun. I Like most of the prairie decided I would “break it birds we upland hunters are in,” and did a fi ne job by so fond of, chukar are not the looks of the fresh and native to the U.S., initially excruciatingly deep gouges introduced from Pakistan in in the sleek walnut stock. 1893. Wild populations pres- ently thrive in 10 western states (California, Idaho, Ne- vada, Washington, Arizona, Colorado, Montana, Oregon, Utah and Wyoming), and British Columbia, Canada. Chukar can also be found on the main Hawaiian Islands. If you’ve ever been to Kauai, ponder running the rim of Waimea Canyon Brad Trumbo/Contributed Photo The dreaded ascent to the “Chukar Palace.” Brad Trumbo/Contributed Photo A hard-won chukar of the sagebrush steppe. as the chukar bail over the edge, laughing heartily. Would you shoot? I am far too excited about hunting again tomorrow to even consider recovering a bird in such exaggerated, death- defying terrain. For the record, I never saw or heard chukar in Waimea Canyon (the habitat is all wrong). In my early upland days, I remained in the dark about areas like the Owyhee and Steens where birds can be found along rimrock and out in the sagebrush. Rather, I traveled to the upper Co- lumbia, scrambling up scree and clinging to the faces. The “Chukar Palace” was a place my buddy Chas introduced me to. Dog-less, he climbs the slopes, taking limits, and never returning with less than a couple of birds a day. With or without a dog, I have never even gotten a shot at chukar while hunting the crags with Chas. Holding true to my word, I haven’t re- turned to the Chukar Palace. Chas’s dog-less success comes from knowing the habitat and reading the bird sign. And I am not convinced that a strong element of luck doesn’t factor into the equation. Sagebrush and cheatgrass are important food sources and water is critical in the early part of the season. See Chukar/Page 2B
