Baker City herald. (Baker City, Or.) 1990-current, October 02, 2021, Page 7, Image 7

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    Outdoors
Rec
B1
Saturday, October 2, 2021
The Observer & Baker City Herald
Autumn at Elephant Rock
Dennis Dauble/Contributed Photo
Elephant Rock is on a steep slope above the Umatilla River at the southeast boundary of the Umatilla Indian Reservation. Below, alder leaves cast reflection in a deep pool on the Umatilla River.
DENNIS
DAUBLE
THE NATURAL WORLD
A
unique basalt formation known as
Elephant Rock stands sentry over
the Umatilla River canyon 30 miles
east of Pendleton. The geologic landmark
is most easily viewed when you travel
upstream on River Road. A nearby road
sign, trimmed in red and showcasing half
a dozen bullet holes, serves as a boundary
marker for those not familiar with local
lore: “Welcome to the Umatilla Indian
Reservation. Home of the Cayuse-Walla
Walla-Umatilla.”
The three-horse logo — paint, black
and appaloosa — remind of the once-great
wealth of the three area tribes whose home-
lands covered over 6,200 square miles,
stretching from the confluence of the Snake
and Columbia Rivers east to the Grande
Ronde Valley, and as far west as The
Dalles, where they traded with the “salmon
eaters.”
The story behind Elephant Rock con-
nects closely to members of the Cayuse
tribe who, known for their fierce nature and
expert horsemanship, roamed the hills and
valleys of the Blue Mountains. Early fur
traders called them “Cailloux,” meaning
“People of the Stones or Rocks.”
The nearby remains of three true ele-
phant species, including the extinct Elephas
columbi (a formidable specimen that stood
11 feet tall at the shoulder), reinforce how
historical narrative often converges with
the archeological record.
As recounted by tribal elders, Elephant
Rock marks the location where a young ele-
phant was turned to stone after his curi-
osity got the best of him and he disobeyed
instructions given by the trickster Coyote
to “not look back.”
Recent rainfall brought welcome relief
to the nearby foothills and raised the voice
of running water where the spent carcasses
of chinook salmon decay in shallow rif-
fles. Their ocean-derived nutrients are part
of the circle of life for aquatic creatures
and terrestrial wildlife that prowl the river
corridor.
Autumn also signals the arrival of
mountain whitefish in schools of a dozen or
more. They can be taken from deep pools
on a No. 18 Beadhead Chironomid drifted
deep or with a live stonefly nymph hooked
through the collar, although the latter
method is considered cheating in some
social circles.
When maple trees drop their last leaf
and heirloom apples ripe for picking drop
to the ground, our cabin’s well pump
is turned off. Water must be hauled for
washing up and to flush the toilet. “Plan
your activities and your diet accordingly,” I
remind visitors. But it’s only 50 yards to the
river, and I’ve yet to fill more than a dozen
plastic milk jugs over a long weekend.
Reading through passages from old
journals, I’m reminded that I am alone in
carrying on a fall fishing tradition that’s
four decades long and counting. There’s no
hurry to get on the stream, though. Angling
opportunity is best during brief periods
when sunlight penetrates the leafy stream
canopy and dark-hued trout can be seen
rising from the shadows.
Dew hangs heavy on bracken fern when
I hike up the North Fork Umatilla Wilder-
ness trail.
See, Elephant/Page B2
Sampling the Strawberry Wilderness
JAYSON
JACOBY
ON THE TRAIL
S
trawberry Mountain isn’t the tallest
peak in Eastern Oregon but it looks as
though it ought to be.
Few summits in the region dominate the
surrounding topography as thoroughly as
Strawberry Mountain.
Its eminence exceeds its elevation.
Which is not to say that Strawberry is a
middling mountain.
Its apex of 9,038 feet (or 9,042, or 9,055,
depending on which map you consult) falls
short of more than a dozen summits in the
Wallowas.
And Rock Creek Butte in the Elkhorns
west of Baker City has a slight edge, at
9,106 feet.
But between the Elkhorns and Steens
Mountain — a span of about 150 miles —
no pinnacle reaches higher than Strawberry
Mountain’s.
This massive pile of andesite — a vol-
canic rock that has more silica than its
IF YOU GO
Drive Highway 26 to Prairie City. Turn south onto S.
Main Street, crossing the John Day River and passing
the Sumpter Valley Railway Depot and Dewitt
Museum on the left. At an intersection, turn left on
SW Bridge Street, and, in a short distance, turn right
on S. Bridge Street, at a sign for Strawberry Camp-
ground, 11 miles away. Continue south on the paved
County Road 60, which turns to gravel after a few
miles. The road is well-maintained for all but the last
mile or so, when it becomes steeper and rougher.
The road ends at Strawberry Camp, which is also the
trailhead for Strawberry Basin Trail. There is no fee to
park, and no permits are required for hiking in the
Strawberry Mountain Wilderness.
eruptive cousin, basalt, but less than
another, rhyolite — commands the terrain
of eastern Grant County in a way few other
peaks in the area can replicate.
In no spot, perhaps, is Strawberry
Mountain more impressive than from
Prairie City, where its bulk nearly fills the
southern skyline.
My favorite vantage point, though, is a
short section of Highway 26 just west of
Dixie Pass.
Mark Morical/The (Bend) Bulletin, File
See, Strawberry/Page B2
Strawberry Mountain is the tallest peak in Eastern Oregon between the Elkhorns near Baker City, and
Steens Mountain.