05-31-2020 Sunday at Hart Antelope Refuge

The winds continued through the night, but we slept really well until about 2 am. A bit of conversation in the dark about our plans for the next day and then Mo fell asleep, but I wasn’t so lucky. I finally got up around 4am to shift positions from lying to sitting which seems to help the leg pain when it hits me like this in the middle of the night.

We got up around 6 to a cloudy day that seemed a bit threatening. The winds had stopped, but there had been just a light patter of rain during the early morning hours although nothing seemed very wet when I stepped outdoors at dawn. Dawn comes a lot earlier this far east, even though we are in the same time zone as we are at home in Grants Pass. Surprising what a just a couple hundred miles can make when it comes to daylight times. After a quick breakfast we were on the road by 7:45

Even though on the previous day we had decided that driving southeast through the featureless desert wasn’t an option, Mo saw a camera marker on the refuge map that indicated the drive might be worth it. There aren’t a lot of roads to explore that go into the higher mountainous areas of the refuge at this time of year, with many roads gated. We did know that the Martin Canyon road had a sign saying it wasn’t officially open until June 15, but the gate was open and unlocked. We decided that our destination for the morning would be Desert Lake marked by the tiny camera on the map. I did mention to Mo that Desert Lake was only an intermittent lake and probably didn’t have any actual water in it.

We drove back up the hill and were surprised that it only takes about 15 minutes to get to the headquarters. Once again we turned south on Blue Sky Road and headed for the Martin Canyon turnoff that we had seen the previous day.

The road was only moderately rough for the most part, meandering across wide alluvial fans and descending gently into depressions and drainages that could hardly be called canyons. I was glad that I had the BLM map because the refuge map wasn’t very clear about the route to Desert Lake, with Martin Canyon road not showing on that map. We knew to turn east at the crossroad with Old Military Road, and then turn again south toward Desert Lake on another road with a strange name that for the life of me I can’t remember. Here is a link to the map.

Back Road to Desert Lake

It was so incredibly quiet except for the birds. The views of the spectacular desert landscape was worth the nearly 7 miles of rough road we took to get there. Colorful wildflowers were everywhere. We saw sulfur lupine, death camas, prairie lupine, various versions of white and pink low phlox, and tansy leaved evening primrose ‘Oenothera tanecetifoli’, which was especially thick on the roadbed.

As expected, the lakebed was dry, but a ridge of volcanic rock on the western side of the lake streaked with orange and chartreuse lichen was spectacular. The rocks were thick with birds that I didn’t recognize but the many types of songs indicated many different kinds of birds make their homes in the rocks. Bright white streaks of bird excrement painted the rocks as well as the lichens.

The one bird we did see and recognize in the low grass in the middle of the road was a horned lark. Of course, no photos since she was bouncing around in the grass so quickly I couldn’t get her on camera. They are ground dwellers, feeders, and nesters, so it may be she had a nest nearby in the dirt because she didn’t want to move out of the way of the car.

We also saw three sage grouse females walking in the sage and then flying low across the brush. I tried to get photos of them, but once again no telephoto, and fast moving birds in the sage didn’t allow very good photos. Still, I’m including one grainy shot because sage grouse are pretty special and are one of the protected species in this refuge. If you want to photograph the amazing sage grouse mating displays in the spring you are required to have a special permit to film birds in the “leks”, or mating grounds of the sage grouse.

We returned the same way we came, passing Old Military Road, turning west on Martin Canyon Road, and then back north on Blue Sky Road to Lookout. Once again, the expansive views were spectacular.  We decided that the next time we came to Hart Mountain we would plan to come just a bit later and explore Black Canyon Road and Military road into places yet to be found.

View to the northwest from Lookout with The Steens on the horizon

We saw only a few pronghorn this time compared to the large herds we saw in September 2013

Our plan for the second half of the day was to return to the Visitor Center and then travel east on the “main” gravel road toward Steens Mountain to Flook Lake. Daughter Melody visited this area last year, camping at the edge of the lake in a tent and bringing back her legal 7 pounds of rocks.

Flook lake is another dry lakebed at this time of year, and there are many surface deposits of small pieces of agate, jasper, petrified wood, and opalized fossils.

We drove across the dry lake, parked on a slight rise, and brought out the chairs for a great lunch of leftover steak sandwiches.  After lunch, we took our time heading back along the playa looking for rocks from the Tracker windows.

Something funny about the landscape at Hart Mountain is the way it can shift and change in ways that are disorienting.  I was the one driving to Flook Lake and yet on the return trip, even though I knew exactly where I was going,  I still got disoriented. I could see Hart Mountain and Poker Jim Ridge, knew I was traveling west, and still had to double check to be sure I was going the right way. It was a very strange feeling and left once we reached the top of the steep hill going down to the Warner Wetlands. I made maps for a living, have a great sense of direction, and have spent a lot of time alone in wild places. Just a heads up, be sure you have a good map and some kind of GPS unit that works without the internet if you plan to wander around this part of Oregon. There is NO cell signal anywhere for a long distance.

Some people asked for a bit more information about the campground. It is operated by the refuge and there are 14 sites, including a camp host site which wasn’t occupied when we were there. I am not sure if that is because of COVID or if it is just too early in the season. The campground was originally a CCC camp developed in 1937 for young men who came west to help build the Hart Antelope Refuge. There is still a building nearby that looks like an old bunk house. At the main visitor center there are beautiful stone buildings characteristic of the CCC style.

There is no shade, the sites are dirt, but are widely spaced with nice metal fire rings and picnic tables at each site. There is a spigot for potable water at the picnic facility which states specifically that camping is NOT allowed under the shelter. When we arrived on Friday night the only occupants were a big motorhome and a small trailer. Throughout the weekend, a couple of campers came and went, but on Sunday night, to our surprise, there were 8 rigs in the campground. Still can’t quite figure out why all those people showed up at the end of the weekend.

I tried in the last post to describe how I feel about Hart Mountain, but I think part of it is the absolute aloneness, miles and miles of nothing and so much open space with no humans. We saw only one truck all day on Blue Sky Road.   The rest of the day we were completely alone. I always feel we are lucky when we return from these forays unscathed. Thank you to the powers that be.

Although, speaking of unscathed, we didn’t quite make it through the trip without an issue. After returning home around 3 in the afternoon, it was cool enough to nap and read a bit. As dinnertime approached, the cloud cover increased to a dull sort of gray. We ate our bean soup and Mo built one last great fire for our sunset watch. We had been pretty happy that our house battery charge stayed above 12 all the time. We ran the gennie before dinner for just an hour to top the charge.

We came in after the sunset and the charge had dropped to 9. What?? Ran the gennie again but as soon as it stopped the charge would drop like a stone. We pulled in the slide, pulled up the jacks so the lack of power wouldn’t interfere with using these operations. We went to bed. It was the darkest night ever.  We still  aren’t sure if there was a wire  loose or if the water level in the batteries was low. (update: water was low, Mo tightened all connections, and so far the batteries are again holding a charge here at home in the MoHo shed.)

We slept well  Morning came early with the sound of rain. We waited until 6am to start up the engine to at least heat up our coffee. Please note, with the rig on “store” instead of “use”, it is impossible to light the stove because the gas doesn’t run if there is no power. We didn’t realize that until we tried, thinking the gas should work no matter since we do not have electronic ignition on the stove.  We thought it would work since we always need to manually light the stove.  Preparing to travel was quick with the slide and jacks already stored.

We were on the road by 6:30 AM on Monday morning, taking a different route south through Adel to reach Highway 140.  It was a perfect choice.  The lakes of the Warner Wetlands extend south from Plush all the way to the highway and in the mixed morning light and partial cloud cover the views were mystical.  No photos once again, since I was driving, and pullovers on that section of road are rare. In the future I would always choose to travel to Plush from the western cutoff for the first views of Hart Mountain and to leave via the more eastern road to Adel so as not to miss the views of the wetlands.

As we continued west through Lakeview Mo suggested a good hot breakfast at a restaurant.  Sounded great, except any restaurants that might be open would also be much farther west in Klamath Falls, and would require masks and who knows what else.  We decided instead to find a good pullover and cook our own breakfast.

 

The summit of Highway 140 where the Gearheart Mountain road heads north into the Gearheart Wilderness was perfect.  The skies opened up to brilliant blue, the trees smelled wonderful, and we had the large bathroom stop entirely to ourselves with the Forest Service pit toilet still closed for COVID.

Breakfast was superb, much better than anything we could find in a restaurant.

Google Maps of our Trip

05-30-2020 Saturday at Hart Antelope Refuge

After discovering that our fan was blowing the wrong way and fixing the problem, we slept great until about 7:30. Quiet hours in the campground are from 10PM to 6AM, so we had no problem deciding to turn on the gennie to make coffee, toast a waffle and cook some bacon for a breakfast treat. Although we had no cell service and no internet, we still took a bit of time to charge up the phones while the gennie was running. Our plans for the day included a lot of back country driving and I wanted to be sure that I could access my offline google maps that I had downloaded before leaving home. I had also managed to find the $4.00 BLM map that I purchased back in 2013 covering the area.

We like this campground because it is reasonably close to the refuge. Even with the steep gravel road and some washboards along the way, it only takes about twenty minutes to get to the Headquarters junction which is the starting point for several side trips, including the Hot Springs Campground.

Of course, it takes a lot longer if you take time to stop and walk the short loop trail that leads to a wonderful overlook. We were the only ones in the small parking lot and took Mattie out without a leash, but just as we were getting ready to walk up the trail, another car pulled in and we called Mattie to put on her leash. The very nice lady said, “Oh no, don’t do that for me!” Mattie immediately recognized a dog person and ran happily over to greet her.

Mattie was so excited to be in a new place and was a bit distracted. She loves trails and likes to lead us and is very good about staying on trail. If there is some kind of fork in the trail, all I have to do is point and say, “That way”, and she looks at me, turns and leads off in the right direction. I love how some dogs know exactly what you mean. Mattie has a great vocabulary, and she can even understand when we spell a few words so we have to be careful when saying the word “walk” unless we are ready to go. So sometimes we spell it, but that no longer works.

Warner Wetlands viewpoint in 2013

The views of the beautiful Warner Wetlands stretching out below us are always thrilling from this point. We have photos of Abby at this same point, but Mattie was a bit too excited to pose properly. The water was quite muddy possibly from recent rains, and the skies weren’t as clear as they were the last time we were at this point. We also noticed there were a LOT fewer flowers in bloom, thinking that maybe we had missed the full bloom and this elevation.

The wind was also beginning to blow with intention, which made my attempts to photograph tiny flowers with my phone a bit of a bust. I wasn’t ready to pull out the heavy camera while trying to hike rocks with two sticks. I surely do miss my sweet lightweight Lumix.  It was destroyed by a suddenly falling heavy framed picture as it sat quietly on a windowsill in our office . Ah well, someday I’ll pop for the bucks to replace it, but not just yet.

After our hike we continued up the steep hill with a couple of big switchbacks to the broad gently sloping lands of the refuge. Just before the refuge headquarters, which are still closed due to COVID19, we saw an open gate to a dirt/rock road toward Poker Jim Ridge and a spring. It’s a road we haven’t traveled in the past and decided it was a good time to try it out.

We saw 4 antelope near the road, quietly grazing and they watched us awhile without concern before walking off. Then a northern harrier swooped in front of the car, flying with the distinctive low acrobatics that is typical for this kind of hawk. The bright white horizontal band on the tail was the identifying feature. Too fast for the phone, so no picture once again.

We made it as far as the spring, which was surrounded by more thick vegetation than we wanted to walk through, so I have no idea if it was warm or not. The creek feeding into the spring was pretty from a distance. Near the spring were remnants of an old homestead.

All along the road we were treated to the magnificent ridge of the Steens on the northwest horizon. We have traveled to the Steens in the past as well, but to do that from Hart Mountain requires more than 50 miles of bone jarring gravel washboard road across the desert. The only other way to get there is to return to Lakeview and Highway 395, travel to Burns, and then back south through the Malheur Wildlife Refuge to Frenchglen. It’s a great trip, but not one we will be making this time around. Hart Mountain and The Steens are two of the most remote and iconic landscapes in the high desert of Eastern Oregon. We love them both.

The road continued north toward Poker Jim Ridge, where there is a lot of wildlife, but got too rough for the Tracker and our nerves and we found a place to turn around.

Returning to the main road and to the closed visitor center we took the familiar road to Hot Springs campground where we had lunch at our old campsite where we tent camped in 2004. We have lots of fun memories of that camping trip in the days when we first started traveling together.

We neglected to bring our chairs for the picnic, but brought out the red vinyl pads that were a freebie from our Adventure Caravans trip to the Rose Parade in 2017. That made sitting on the ground a bit easier. Getting up from the ground is another story, but we managed with a bit of laughter, rolling over and rising from our knees.

After lunch, we drove over to the natural hot springs in the meadow where I dangled my legs in the 102 degree water. The bottom was a bit mushy, so I didn’t get all the way down, but it sure felt good on the crazy legs. Mo walked off into the meadow with Mattie searching for the other springs. Mattie was beside herself happy and ran around like crazy, accidentally running through a muddy creek which was deeper than she expected. She raced over to me, running in circles of happiness and covered with black guck. I dangled her in my spring to clean her off but she couldn't get out fast enough. Mattie is NOT a water dog.

Photo from 2004 of the developed spring at the Hart Mountain Refuge

Before we left I checked out the rock enclosure with a partially developed deeper spring. As I walked up, I heard people laughing and talking and called out as I approached. Springs are often clothing optional and I didn’t want to get a big surprise. There were three people who said they had come from Medford and were laughing and talking while soaking in the spring. They were staying in Lakeview, and I wondered just how much all those little aerosol particles were blowing around inside that closed space with people much less than 6 feet apart. I didn’t have any desire to dip in but had a nice conversation from a distance.

We drove back north to the Blue Sky road and turning south toward Post Meadows. There are a few ungated roads leading to the southeast across what appeared to be featureless desert and we had no desire to wander off in that direction on more bad roads. Besides, there seemed to be nothing out there to see at the moment, and the roads had signs saying they weren't officially open until June 15.

Once at Post Meadows, with a lovely view of the highest point on Hart Mountain, Warner Peak at 8,017 feet, we stopped at the pit toilet and let Mattie run around some more. Such a happy dog! By this time the winds were getting stronger and we decided that was enough for the day and it was time to head home.

Along the route, we stopped at Indian Springs for another short walk. By this time the winds were really strong, and as we hiked up a small dirt hill that was built above a man made pond, Mo’s visor went flying. She braved climbing down the slippery steep hill to get the visor. It was a visor from Hells Canyon and I wasn’t about to part with it. From the small man made hill from dredging the pond, we could see the small spring surrounded with thick grass. Mattie ran into the thick grass and had the best find of the day, an old leg bone from what was probably an antelope. She was determined and carried that bone all the way to the car. No clue if this spring was warm since we didn’t try to get up close. Time to get out of that wind!

By the time we got down the hill and back to camp, the winds were blowing at least 30 mph. Our balloon spinner that we brought from ABQ last fall was blown into pieces but somehow Mo managed to find each piece and put it back together. We also put away the ground carpet that was held in place by 3 big rocks but billowing like a wild sail from the one corner that we neglected to secure. Trying to fold it up in that wind was funny, and both of us were blown around like puppets by the wind catching the carpet like a big sail.

Inside the rig, the slide topper was whipping around like crazy. Usually our topper is stable in high winds but not this time. For the first time we can remember, we pulled in the slide to protect the topper and stop the crazy noise from the winds.

We settled in for the rest of the late afternoon, watching the rain to the north, playing some cards, and waiting for the winds to die down, as they often do, so I could bbq a little steak for our Saturday supper.

Dinner was delicious. We had a nice New York, which I sliced into two pieces, and then we each ate just half and saved the other half for lunch the next day. Pretty good for just one steak! We also baked a potato and I ate half of it and Mo ate a quarter which is her usual style. Funny how much less we eat as we get older and are perfectly satisfied.

The winds finally died down and Mo built another gorgeous fire. The sunset was a bit of a bust, without the brilliant colors from the previous evening. We sat with the sky and the fire till after 9 before retreating to bed and the dark night. With the winds, another cloud cover formed and once again there was no chance to see the gorgeous starry skies that are such a wonder in this part of Oregon. The darkness and quiet is so very beautiful.

A perfect day, with another one to come.

05-29-2020 Heading for Hart Mountain

We have both been enjoying our time at home, with plenty to do and lots of inside and outside space in which to enjoy each other's company. Still, both of us have been getting a bit antsy and when Mo said last week, "I'm really getting ready for a trip!" I excitedly agreed. "Let's try Hart Mountain", I exclaimed.

Hart Mountain is in Eastern Oregon, is several hours from home here in Grants Pass. We have camped in a tent in the campground at the Hart Mountain Refuge, and have boondocked in the area in the MoHo. However, the road to the main campground is still dirt and washboards for more than 20 miles, so we don't take the MoHo up there.

There are so many quickly changing rules about when and where people can camp that we thought it might be best to try to boondock in the place we stayed in 2013, just a big wide equipment type place in the middle of nowhere but not officially on BLM land. With the internet proclaiming that renting an RV is the best way to vacation right now, we weren't quite sure that there would be an empty space for the upcoming weekend.

Boondocking north of Plush across the Warner Valley from Hart Mountain in 2013

I looked up the information about the Hart Mountain Campground, which is actually on the refuge and found out that our little campground at the end of the pavement on the way to the refuge, just inside the boundary is open! Yippee! There are no reservations, but we will leave early enough to arrive mid day and are reasonably certain that there will be a spot for us. So looking forward to some MoHo time.

The previous photos are some we took back in May of 2013, the last time we traveled to Hart Mountain and when we found the newly built Hart Mountain Campground but we didn't camp there.  At the time, it looked like a great spot. Dry camping and no hookups, but somewhat safer at this time than trying to boondock in lands that may or may not be open.

Now, as I write this on Friday night, I am sitting by the fire at twilight in shorts and a light shirt. At 7 this morning I had no idea the day would end like this. As we were preparing to get on the road, Mo turned on the gas for the fridge and nothing happened. A bit of trouble shooting led us to believe it was possibly the LP detector. Our detector is an older version that includes an on/off switch to manage the LP from inside the rig when needed.

We waited till 8 for nearby Caveman RV to open so I could pick up a new detector. When I walked in with a photo of the part, they were quite rude and insisted that it couldn't be replaced. They said the detector was an old style that was no longer used, and even if they could find one, it would cost several hundred dollars, and they had no openings for several weeks to do the job. They also said they hadn't been used in anything since the 1990's and was only used by low end RV builders. Hmmm. Our Dynamax was built in 2006 and isn't a cheap rig.

I drove a few blocks west to Affordable RV and they were extremely accommodating in spite of their crowded schedule. They told me if I brought the rig in at ten they could do a temporary fix so that we would have propane and wouldn’t have to delay our trip while they waited to receive the new part. In minutes the technician had the part disconnected and the propane valve on. He refused to charge us, saying they would let us know when they got in a replacement. Such great service and caring people. They laughed a lot and kept saying, “We don’t want you to miss your trip! We know how long you have waited for it!” We were very impressed.

Much to our surprise, we were on the road by 11:30. The trip to Hart Mountain is about 249 miles east, traveling along Highway 140 through Klamath Falls toward Lakeview on Highway 395, north a bit and then continuing east on HWY 140 toward the tiny community of Plush. With our late start, we decided to stop by Klamath Lake at the familiar Howard Bay launch site for a sandwich and to switch drivers from me to Mo.

Even with our rest stop, we were quite tired by the time we gassed up in Lakeview at $2.45 per gallon/cash price, and still had 90 minutes to go to our campground destination.

I took over driving again at Lakeview and with the two hours of rest since my previous shift, enjoyed it thoroughly. There are two roads that exit Highway 140 north toward Plush. The route through Adel, farther east, is lovely and travels down a beautiful canyon and through the southern lakes of the Warner wetlands. The route we chose exits up a steep hill on a narrow road that approaches Hart Mountain from the southwest. It is from this road that the magnificent view of the iconic mountain rises on the northeast horizon.

I spent much of that driving time trying to understand what it is about a particular mountain that elicits such deep feelings for me. I love many mountains. Shasta, Rainier, Mt Hood, so many gorgeous volcanoes that fit all the descriptions of snow covered rugged peaked mountains that people love.

Hart Mountain isn’t a volcano. It isn’t a snow capped peak. It is a tilted fault-block mountain with an incredibly steep scarp on the west and a long, gentle eastern slope dropping to the wildness of the Eastern Oregon high desert. It rises like a friendly monster massive beast from the volcanic lowlands that are on its west flank. It is long, a rugged ridge that lies in a generally northeast to southwest direction, with nearly 3500 feet of elevation from the Warner Valley below to the top of Warner Peak, the highest point on Hart Mountain at just over 8,000 feet.

I tried to explain to Mo how I felt that Hart Mountain somehow had a soul, or a spirit, as if it is somehow alive and breathing. She nodded just a little and said hmmmm….So, I am curious if any of you have met a mountain that is a living, breathing thing that you feel inside your soul. I am that way about Hart Mountain. Go figure.

I love the feel of that mountain in ways I can’t begin to explain, I love its bulk and its many canyons, and the way it reflects the light at sunset. I love knowing that there are wild bighorn sheep crawling around on the cliffs even if my binocs aren’t strong enough to find them. I love that on the broad eastern flank of the mountain are some of the most protected herds of pronghorn antelope in the country, with about 1,900 on the refuge at last count.

On our last trip to Hart Mountain in 2013 we had boondocked across the valley in a nondescript wide place in the gravel, albeit with a great view. This time we knew that Camp Hart Mountain was open and hoped that even with our late arrival on a Friday night, there would still be a space for us to camp.

We are in Site 12 this time at Camp Hart Mountain

We arrived around 6pm, to find only 2 of the 14 spaces occupied. The campground was newly opened when we discovered it in 2013 and at that time they hadn’t decided on a fee. I guess they still haven’t decided, because the campground is still free. There is a pit toilet, picnic tables, potable water at the main picnic shelter and reasonably level dirt sites. We settled in and marveled at the very crazy weather. It was hot, (92F) and cloudy and there wasn’t a breath of wind.

After setting out our rug and chairs and unloading the firewood, we played cards a bit waiting for sunset time to enjoy the campfire. Supper was super easy, Costco hotdogs and baked beans! Our firewood is from the large pile of well seasoned oak and madrone we have at home stored from the trees we took down on the property back in 2013. That wood makes for some wonderful campfires, and the coals really made me wish that I liked roasted marshmallows enough to remember to bring them.

When we finally went to bed, we could barely breathe because of the very uncomfortable heat. We had all the windows open and the fan on full blast but nothing seemed to bring any relief into the bedroom part of the MoHo. It wasn’t until 4 in the morning or so that we figured out that we had somehow switched the Fantastic Fan from out to in and it wasn’t pulling fresh air into the rig the way it usually does. That hot night certainly wasn’t anything we had expected from what we had read about the predicted weather. There was a huge storm heading for the northwest and we had almost postponed our trip because of it. We had expected rain and wind but certainly not a hot, muggy night.

After we turned the fan to pull in the cool air, I slept like a baby with some truly fantastic, magical dreams. Perfect for a first night at the base of my favorite magical mountain.