The Wallowa's with the Wife (Yikes)

Part One

The lovely Mrs. M. and I scooted for the Wallowa Mountains the last week of Auguston a mission to visit WVR's elk camp and find some fish in the rivers.  Smoke from wild fires in central Oregon, as well as fires along the Columbia west of Maryhill and the John Day River canyon blurred the view for most the drive east.

So much so, we were unable to see the mountains from our first stop at Wallowa Lake.

The Wallowa Mountains are located in northeastern Oregon between the Blue Mountains and the Snake River.  The Eagle Cap Wilderness area is part of the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest.  The mountains were formed from granite from a magma upwelling the Late Jurassic and Early Cretaceous.

The steep ridges and deep canyons formed by the violence of the earth's beginnings now shelter large herds of Elk and Deer, a bunch of Mountain Lions, a few Wolf packs and other creatures of the forest and high plateau.

Our first destination was hunting and fishing partner W's elk camp high in the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest.  The area is lush pine forests, steep canyons, wide meadows and tough granite ridges.  Perfect habitat for huge Rocky Mountain Elk.  And perfect habitat for sneaky bow hunters looking to pin the rack of a lifetime.

Once we met up with the camp, W, Mrs. M and I went for a walk in the woods.  During our stalk, W repeatedly bugled and chirped for elk and was rewarded with a stunning shrill conversation in the quiet forest.  The talking went on until near dark, but the animals remained deep in the green.

The next day we took the drive to Buckhorn Overlook, which overlooks the Inmaha River canyon and one ridge over is Hell's Canyon, with the Seven Devils standing watch on the eastern rim.  Mrs M, W & Mrs. VR and I had a quick bite overlooking the canyons and then headed back to camp to take an evening hunt. 

Again, it was much like the day before.  Quietly walking through the woods, skirting several of the many meadows, looking for trail sign and sound.  On this hunt, the elk weren't talking, but they were close.  We could hear movement. 

As we walked along a skid trail, I was a moving elk.  It's body was a light brown.  A bull.  W. readied an arrow, and the group followed slowly in single file.  As we came to a small clearing, we heard the animals crashing through the brush, and a yearling elk bolted in sight up a nearby hill.  And then the forest was silent.  No sound but adrenalin hushed breath could be heard.

The evening hunt was over.  It was back to camp, cocktails and chow.

In the morning, Mrs. M and I would head to the Lostine River on the edge of the Eagle Cap Wilderness.

So there you have.  Stay tuned.