Escaping life’s cares in the Wallowas

There are mountain ranges, and then there are exceptional mountain ranges such as the Sawtooths of Idaho, the Tetons of Wyoming, and the Wallowas of northeastern Oregon.

Located 200 miles south of Spokane, the Wallowas lie at the heart of the Eagle Cap Wilderness, a 562-square-mile swath of supreme scenic beauty. It’s big country, filled with deep valleys, cool forests, huge sweeps of glacially polished rock, and peaks that rise to nearly 10,000 feet. Chief Joseph and his band of the Nez Perce people picked berries and hunted in these mountains long before while settlers arrived in 1860.

It is an ideal place for backpacking, so my wife and I headed there in early July for a three-day outing. Our plan was to hike five miles up the Hurricane Creek trail, camp near the creek, then day hike up to Echo Lake before returning to camp that night and hiking out on the third day.

It was a simple plan, and it worked perfectly.

Getting started

The Hurricane Creek trailhead is only six miles from Joseph, Oregon, but it’s a long and winding road to get there from the north. The road starts off as Washington 129, which is crooked as a dying snake when it leaves the Snake River south of Lewiston. From there, it climbs up and over Rattlesnake Grade, then plunges into the Grand Ronde River canyon. A few miles after crossing the Grande Ronde, the road enters Oregon, where it is re-christened as State Route 3.

We rolled up to the Hurricane Creek trailhead shortly after 10 on a mid-week morning, one day before the Fourth of July, and we were dismayed to find the parking lot nearly full. Most visitors would be day hikers, we assumed, but the sheer number of vehicles suggested the trail would be busy.

One noticeable absentee was our dog, an 8-year-old bundle of joy who once possessed more energy than any human could dissipate. Though it was a heartbreaking decision to leave her behind, the rigorous climb to Echo Lake and equally rigorous descent validated our decision. Echo Lake, which still has a lot of snow at this time of year, is not a good place for aging dogs.

Easy going

The first few miles of the Hurricane Creek trail climb gradually through a cool, shady forest. It’s pleasant hiking as the trail hems the creek, winding through moss-draped conifers that sway in the wind. There’s a handful of nice camps along the creek in those first few miles, and there are several side creeks which are crossable with little effort at this time of year.

There’s also evidence of avalanches, with thinly vegetated slide paths and hundreds of fallen trees all pointing in the same direction. Winter is hard in the Wallowas, and spring avalanches are a powerful force of nature.

As it climbs, the trail passes through spectacular fields of wildflowers. Warm-weather tree species, such as juniper and curl leaf mountain mahogany, also begin to appear.

After 3 1/2 miles, Hurricane Creek narrows down to a tight, steep gorge with a succession of lovely waterfalls. Squint your eyes and it could be a scene from the Austrian Alps as the water writhes and twists with savage intensity. Some nerveless kayaker probably has paddled it by now; if not, it’s only a matter of time before one does.

About 1 1/2 miles after the gorge, the Hurricane Creek trail reaches a junction with the Billy Jones trail, which leads to Echo Lake and, ultimately, Billy Jones Lake. The trail junction also marks the point where the easy hiking ends and the seriously steep slog begins.

There was no point in hauling all our gear up to Echo Lake, so my wife and I pitched our tent at the end of a meadow 70 yards beyond the trail junction. At that point, net elevation gain from the trailhead was a modest 900 vertical feet.

Up, up and away

Carrying light packs with plenty of water, we struck out early the next day. At first, the trail wound through a thickly forested zone speckled with magnificently gnarled western red cedar trees. Eventually, the trail steepened, the forest thinned out, and the sun bared its teeth.

An elevation gain of 2,300 feet over three miles sounds pretty abstract, but in reality it’s a hot, hateful slog up, up and up some more to reach Echo Lake. After a couple of hours, we crossed a subtle height of land and dropped into a mighty mountain cirque. Snowbanks began to appear in shady spots and it was clear we had arrived in the high country.

After all that climbing, it stood to reason that the lake must be close at hand – but reason plays no role in the approach to Echo Lake. In fact, hikers are only about two-thirds of the way there when they reach the lip of the cirque.

So we pressed on, up steep snowfields streaked with pink algal slime. The snow was heavily sun-cupped and, with a little imagination, it resembled an enormous egg carton capable of holding thousands of enormous eggs. As we climbed, we passed a succession of false summits, piles of shattered rock, and small, wizened trees known as krummholz. Our lungs were heaving, our blood was pounding, and we wondered if this was the day to keel over with a heart attack.

After one last false summit, we crested a rise and there was Echo Lake.

Hot day, c-c-c-cold lake

At an elevation of nearly 8,400 feet, Echo Lake is slow to welcome the warmth of summer. It was the Fourth of July when we visited, a few days before the fiercely hot weather arrived, and the lake was still about 70 percent iced-up. There was open water along the shoreline, with plenty of loose floes bobbing around, but most of the surface was still frozen. Here and there, pools of standing water were plainly visible atop the ice.

Clear as bootleg gin, the water in Echo Lake is mind-numbingly cold. It’s a great place for fish, but it is less welcoming for human swimmers.

We stopped for lunch in a sheltered spot near the outflow of Echo Lake. It was a simple meal, but the view was magnificent with a searingly blue sky overhead, the tree line at our feet, and a bird’s-eye view of the cirque below. The scale was enormous, rising from a lush, green canyon at the bottom to jagged peaks poking holes in the sky.

Our visit to Echo Lake was brief, but it was a tonic for the soul that kept us buzzing for days afterwards. If you’re looking to unplug from the modern world and regain perspective, the Wallowa Mountains are a great place to start.