Owyhee River

Spring break this year fell the last week in March, so we took the opportunity to do a 4 day/3 night paddle trip on the Owyhee River in southeastern Oregon.  The river only runs in the spring, and we caught it right at the end of its short season, with just 500 cfs in the canyon.  On the drive out, we stopped at the turn-off for our old wilderness therapy field area.  Glass Buttes, ancient obsidian flows, were always on the horizon and we looked at this vista for weeks at a time.  I had never taken any photos in the field, so I took the opportunity to get a shot of this powerful place that had such an impact on my life.

 

 At the put in in Rome, Oregon.  All the stuff you can fit in a kayak to live for 4 days.

  

 

Cliff swallow dwellings.

Chalk Basin.

Sand lily.  The only one I saw the whole time.

We hopped out of our boats to explore Chalk Basin. Twisting slot canyons and crazy rock formations.

 

 

Our camp in Iron Point Canyon- Green Dragon.

Desert parsley.

Vibrant lichens.

Looking down on camp.

The 45 mile section we paddled is called the "Grand Canyon of Oregon" and it was easy to see why.

Strange ladders and rain symbols.

Petroglyphs in the basalt at Jordan Creek.

A relaxing evening soak in Greely Bar hot springs.

Say's phoebe.

A pre-dawn soak in Ryegrass hot springs.

The ever-cheerful bushtit.

I am so glad we got to see these guys.

Bighorn sheep charging up the canyon walls.

Mystery raptor.

A wary ground squirrel popping out his burrow.

In my boat, I felt so small.

The red speck in the lower left is me.

Massive Iron Point.

 

Cheers to a fantastic camp site in Green Dragon Canyon.

I am in this picture.  A little person in a big place, in the lower right corner.

Hundreds of miles from any source of light pollution.  Home on the range.

“The fire. The odor of burning juniper is the sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth, in my honest judgment; I doubt if all the smoking censers of Dante's paradise could equal it. One breath of juniper smoke, like the perfume of sagebrush after rain, evokes in magical catalysis, like certain music, the space and light and clarity and piercing strangeness of the American West. Long may it burn.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

I am in this picture, kneeling on the ground to capture the sand lily picture.

Castles.

On the Moon, or Mars?

Can you see me?

You could spend days exploring all the magical places

The morel rock.

Whistling bird rapid.  I wonder what bird this one was named after.  Maybe a canyon wren?

I am just a little speck on the river.

Paddling along through something-or-other rapids.

   

  On the drive out, two of these creatures ran across the road in front of us.  They were huge, not cows, and very elusive.  We think they were wolves.

Tiny town of Jordan Valley near the Idaho border.