Rafting the Lower Owyhee: Day 5 - Pothole to Leslie Gulch

"Goose Drama"

This post documents our fifth and final day of our recent rafting trip down the Lower Owyhee River in far southeastern Oregon, four hours from our home in Bend.

After a cold night in which I battled my leaking sleeping pad, re-inflating it four times, I finally awakened at 5:50 in the morning to raucous Canada Goose calls and to thoughts of the logistics of how to pack and what to wear on our last day on the Owyhee. I really started regretting having to get home and wished we could extend our trip. I'm pretty sure I don't speak for Ann in this regard.

Again, I put on five layers before exiting the tent but unlike yesterday morning at Canyon, today we were on the west side of the river where sunrise comes early. We all took a moment out of what we were doing to watch the sun rise over the ridge opposite us. How many times in life do we get to see that? And with all that early sun, I was shedding layers by 8am.

Pre-Sunrise Cloud Formations

Sun Coming to Our Side of the River

Sun Almost Down to Our Camp

Et Voilà! Sunrise!

All the while we were drinking coffee and huddling around the fire waiting for the sun to come up, we had to deal with the most obnoxious goose drama ever. In the photo below, which shows the very tip of the big formation behind our camp, at the very top, backlit against the sky and slightly right of center, sits a goose, a very noisy goose.

It would sally forth from time to time, sometimes alone, sometimes with a compatriot, and make a lap of the rock spire or a lap in front of the spire. Then, it would land either right back where it started or on another high place, either alone or with its partner. And it would honk incessantly. Other geese from nearby pinnacles and even from down on the river would add their voices to the near-infuriating goose drama to which I awakened and which went on for hours. SO MUCH DRAMA!

Overly Dramatic Goose Atop a Rock Spire

The final stage of today's trip would be a tow across the reservoir, so before breakfast, we made sandwiches to eat during our tow. In reality, we ate them waiting for our tow to arrive. Breakfast was a scramble with mushrooms, tomatoes, and peppers along with a big batch of home fries and Canadian bacon. We motored through breakfast and got our gear packed quickly; we could all feel that Amanda wanted to get moving so that we did not miss our tow connection. She feared a possible headwind that fortunately never materialized.

With all of us hustling, we got away in decent time and started our final miles on the flattest water of the trip. Today was the only day that all three rafts would travel together. We would go just 7.5 miles from Pothole Camp to river mile 56, a mile below the limits of where motorized vessels are allowed to go. There, after lunch, we would chain together our rafts with those of the other group we had been leapfrogging for the 12-mile tow to the Leslie Gulch Boat Ramp. Our human-powered rafting route is shown in fuchsia on the lower map below while the tow route is highlighted on the upper map in dashed purple.

Day 5- Pothole Camp to Leslie Gulch Boat Ramp
(fuschia in raft, purple dash under tow)

The water on Day 5 was flat but still moving at a decent pace. The wind that Amanda feared did get up, but it was directly behind us and helped us make good time to the motorboat rendezvous. I took some last photos of the rock features on either side of the river as we neared the quasi-civilization of the Birch Creek takeout. The road out is steep and rough and a tough slog while pulling trailers of rafts, hence our tow to the much more benign Leslie Gulch road.

Civilization! The Birch Creek Road

An Old Waterwheel for Irrigation

More Trees in One Place Than We Saw All Trip
Birch Creek Takeout

Elena Doing Her Thing

And Sara

White Pelicans

Great Blue Heron

Great Egret

Still Bundled up Against the Raw Day

At the Rendezvous Point for the Motorboat

Say's Phoebe Watching Us

We arrived at the rendezvous point some 20 minutes ahead of the other group that would be joining us in the tow across the reservoir. We ate lunch as they were arriving, a prim and proper bunch if I have ever seen one. Each time we encountered them on the river, it just didn't look like they were having any fun. When we'd see them, they looked like schoolkids sitting in their perfectly spaced desks, hands folded in front of them, and heads attentively pointed at the teacher. 

We waited a pretty good long time for our tow boat, populated by Luke and his four dogs who all came to visit with us. He apparently was making many such tows today. At long last, we got lashed up and underway for the two-hour, twelve-mile tow. In our three boats, we all laid back and propped our feet up, while taking in the rays and the sights while under tow. Contrast this to the boats in front of us with all the students still sitting properly at full attention in their desks. Different strokes, I guess. I hope they had some fun.

During the tow, we saw many typical reservoir birds such as Mallards, Canada Geese, Lesser Scaups, Western Grebes, various gulls, and Double-crested Cormorants. We also saw a great many White Pelicans which probably live here or at least visit on migration, but which I consider unusual, having only ever seen them in the Gulf of Mexico or when flying over Great Salt Lake. Groups of pelicans were soaring frequently overhead; I forget what impressive fliers these huge birds are.

Among many turkey vultures and a couple of Red-tailed Hawks, we might have seen an eagle, but it was terribly high and far away enough that I couldn't tell. I am very surprised to have not seen any eagles at all during our trip, however, lack of large trees for nesting sites would deter Bald Eagles, while Golden Eagles are not really fish eaters.

Just Under Tow

Sara, Bopping to the Tunes in her Head

Final Stretch Just Before Leslie Gulch Boat Ramp

At the end of the scenic two-hour tow, we arrived at the boat ramp and it was a bit of a cluster trying to get seven rafts unhitched and on the ramp. But in the end, it all got sorted and we started hauling all the gear out of all the rafts in preparation for putting the rafts and gear on the trailer. Al, driving the Momentum van, backed the trailer in and then she started breaking down gear like a whirling dervish.

I felt guilty about watching the ladies doing all the work, but understanding how it would be if we had "helpers" in the restaurant kitchen when we were breaking down for the night, I got the hell out of the way until I could use my height to help lift the big coolers and the topmost raft onto the trailer. This gave me time to hit the disgusting pit toilet and to wander about and shoot a couple photos of the gorgeous rock formations around the Leslie Gulch ramp.

Unpacking Everything

Loading up was a well-rehearsed and choreographed affair and soon enough, Al took a final photo of our group and we were off, albeit slowly, as we wound our way out of the dirt road leading up and out of the gulch. The road was in surprisingly good shape and both sides were covered with balsamroots with their gleaming yellow blooms dancing in the breeze. 

Last Stop: Coffee at the Rockhouse in Jordan Valley

Vista after incredible vista unfolded as we climbed up and out of the gulch and by the time we got out to hard-surfaced US 95, we could see residual snow on the Owyhee Mountains across the border in Idaho. At Amanda's insistence, we stopped at the Rockhouse in Jordan Valley before continuing the last leg of our 2-hour shuttle back to the Rome Boat Launch. I had a double espresso to help keep me going for the four-hour drive back to Bend, with a stop at the Safeway in Burns for a bite to eat for dinner.

After battling snow squalls and the setting sun directly in our faces, we arrived home just after dark, longing for a hot shower and a soft bed.

Rafting the Lower Owyhee: Day 4 - At Pothole Camp

"A Sunset to Remember"

This post documents the afternoon and evening of our fourth day of five on our recent rafting trip down the Lower Owyhee River in far southeastern Oregon, four hours from our home in Bend.

Arriving at Pothole Camp

When we landed at Pothole, I was in a haze of pain after dislocating my fibula getting into the raft at our lunch stop where we got to see a wonderful collection of petroglyphs etched into basalt boulders. I knew that I had not got my fibula back into its socket and that I was going to have to suck it up and address that immediately.

Fortunately, EMT Sara materialized seemingly out of nowhere to help. I have put it back in by myself on many occasions but it is one of the most painful things I have ever been through, shingles and eroded corneas included. I was glad to have her help in assisting me to straighten out my leg.

While she helped extend my leg, I was really concentrating on my breathing and managing my blood pressure as I was near to passing out from the pain. At one point, I may have nodded out for a second, because I vaguely recall telling her that I was dreaming. After a few minutes, she helped coax my leg straight out in front of me, and then when I lifted my knee just a tad came the pop heard around the camp, the joyous sound of the bone snapping back into its socket. Thank you Sara!

I cannot tell you how great the feeling is of resolving a dislocation, unless you have been there and done that. And I hope for your sake that you're clueless about this. It is night and day, the pain going from 10 down to 1 in an instant.

As I sat there, still in the raft, trying to collect my wits after an adrenaline dump, I was looking at the hill to the right in the photo above, the cone-shaped one with white sedimentary rock interspersed with strips of green vegetation. In my eyes, however, the white sedimentary rock was flashing purple, the hillside a pulsating purple and green, probably a side effect of the adrenaline.

Once the flashing abated and after some ibuprofen from my first aid kit, I was up and walking slowly and gingerly, but walking just the same. I wandered up the hillside to find Ann, who I asked to go away while we dealt with my leg, and Laird struggling to assemble the tent poles from which I had to remove the shock cord three days ago. The three of us managed to get it pitched in a beautiful location with rock towers visible out both sides.

View in Front of the Tent

And Behind the Tent

The Ann, Queen of Taking in the Sun

Lunch already behind us, Ann found a sunny spot in which to warm herself and Laird left to go explore the hillside behind the camp. I would have joined him, but not on a gimp knee. I did wander about the camp site to see what I could see, however. Bum knee or not, I am not one to sit still.

Veiny Dock, Rumex venosus

Rock, Fractured Like Sliced Ham

Patch of Whitetop, Lepidium sp.

Shadscale, Atriplex confertifolia

Oregon Sunshine, Eriophyllum lanatum, Blooms Blurry, Windy AF!

Cockleburs, Xanthium strumarium

Red Wing Blackbird in Sandbar Willow, Salix exigua

I included the photo of the blackbird above, not because there is anything special about this most common of birds in these most common of willows, but because it is a reminder of the bird drama at this camp site. We watched this guy over a few hours, calling and preening and displaying his epaulets, all in a seemingly fraught attempt to get the nearby female to pay him some attention. She got close to him a few times, but it seemed that when he would try to get close, he'd end up chasing her across the river to no avail. Poor bastard.

There were two patches of willows framing our rafts on the shore, one each on the upstream and downstream side of the rafts. Not only did the blackbird make its way between the two patches, but so did a beautiful male Yellow Warbler in full breeding plumage. I walked down to the willows once and got close enough to see the orangish-red vertical stripes on his breast.

While we were observing (and if truth be told, narrating) the antics of the male blackbird trying in vain to score a little something, a real life nature drama played out across the river when one of a pair of Common Ravens dropped into a Black-billed Magpie nest in a hackberry, no doubt in search of eggs or chicks. We're not sure of the outcome, but it was quite the avian tussle as the two magpies fought off the hawk-sized raven. Nature is cruel.

Later on, everyone saw a bird, a strong flier, large and white with black wing tips, winging along the far bank and at times circling on wings held and flapped much like a gull. Laird asked me what it was and I had to admit that I did not know. I would figure it out tomorrow when I saw a bunch of White Pelicans, but a) I have seen very few White Pelicans in my life, and b) really, a pelican in the freaking desert was so out of context that I never considered it.

While Cliff Swallows had been everywhere during our trip down the river, tonight they were especially prevalent and chatty in overflying our camp in pursuit of bugs. They were joined by a good amount of Vaux's Swifts, small birds that alternately flap each wing, resembling bats on the wing. They put on a great acrobatics show for us as we were noshing our appetizers.

We were never far from the fire, which like the hot butternut squash soup for an appetizer, helped us stay warm. Again, I had on five upper layers against the wind which blew brutally until about 8:20 when it calmed for the night. These winds seemed to amuse the Turkey Vultures as many of them worked in lazy circles over both sides of the river.

Appetizers: Butternut Squash Soup and Crostini with Goat Cheese, Romesco, and Arugula

Amanda Grilling Bangers for Dinner
She Also Grilled What Looked Like a Tri-Tip That I Didn't Taste

Grilled Sausage, Salad, Veggies, and Saffron Rice

After dinner, we sat around the fire, Ann wrapped in a sleeping bag against the cold. We could already feel as the sun started to move to the east side of the river away from us that it was going to be a cold night. In fact, we would get frost in the low spots during the night.

After dinner, I saw Amanda pull out some bananas and a stick of butter, and that can only mean one thing: Bananas Foster. Serving it over ice cream is standard, but that's an awful big rabbit to pull out of a small hat out in the wilderness. Instead, she scooped the bananas over whipped cream and sprinkled them with mini chocolate drops.

As a professional chef, it was pretty amusing to see her toss part of the rum on the fire and drag the flame black into the banana pan. Typically in the restaurant, we'd pour the rum in the pan, let it vaporize for a second, then tilt the pan toward the flame on the stove to ignite the alcohol. Amanda's method offers a lot more show! Once again, we were so stuffed after dinner that we needed no dessert, but after the final-night show, we had to suck it up and dig in.

Bananas Foster

After dessert, I ran to get my camera as the light got into that really sweet spot near sundown. Even once the sun went down, it still lit the clouds in glorious pink hues and then the moon made an appearance as well. What a glorious finale to our day!

Rain Shower Highlighted in Pink

Click here for Day 5, our final day on the Owyhee.