Matthew Singer

The heatwave has hit the northwest. Today’s temperatures on the Palouse rose into the high 90’s, and tomorrow it may break 100. I wanted to hike so I can get in shape for backpacking next month, so I thought I’d take the dogs up to Freezeout Saddle and hike to Grandmother Mountain. But when I got up there, it was also hot and somewhat muggy, so we didn’t make it very far. I brought the camera, but got no pictures on this trip. The summer wildflowers are starting to bloom: beargrass was in its early stages, and the lupine had buds, but no open flowers yet. Plox was open, creating a colorful ground cover in places. The glacier lilies had already gone to seed. But overall, we should see the full color in the next week or two. Already, there is less snow on the trail than there was when I brought my parents up at the end of July last year. This holds good promise that the high country is now open for business.

The best part about today’s excursion was the wildlife sightings, nearly all of them from the car as we were headed down. The only wildlife I spotted from the trail was a fesh pile of bear scat. But on the way down, I came across a very colorful Western Tanager, an elk on the road, a family of skunks (mom and 3 juveniles, I believe), and what I believe to be a wolf. As I came to the bottom of the incine where the road meets the creek, I saw a large dog standing in the intersection. It looked like a husky, definitely bigger than a coyote, but I was also far away so it’s hard to tell. It ran off, and I kept driving, but then I saw it again in the road, running away. I tried to catch up to it to get a better look, but it darted off to the side and then I lost it. I’m not absolutely positive it was a wolf. Coyotes are much more common and more likely, but this was bigger than any coyote I’ve seen, though smaller than a wolf should be. It was more grey and white, rather than the brownish-grey that the coyotes are. It could be a feral dog. Either way, it surely wasn’t tame as it spooked at the first sight of the car. So, it could be a wolf, but I’m not positive, and I hesitate to call it as such. It’s exciting, nonetheless.

Ever since I first visited Elk River during my interview trip in February 2010, I had a desire to get to the top of Elk Butte. After all, who could resist a lookout tower boasting 3000 foot views? The only problem was finding a suitable way to get up there. While the maps show a road to the summit, descriptions also warn that the summit is not accessible by car. Most people reach the summit by four-wheelers in the summer and snowmobiles in the winter. I had read that it was a 7-mile one-way trip, which ruled out a day trip for my hiking abilities.

Two weekends ago, during a scouting mission to the Morris Creek Cedar Grove, I decided to drive the roads on the mountain to see just how far I could get. It turns out, you can drive to within 3 miles of the summit. Running low on time, I decided to come back to explore this hike and bring some friends along. That’s what I did this past weekend.

Many of my friends have been out to the falls, but have never gone into the town of Elk River, let alone ventured back to the grove of big trees. So I took them back to see the Giant Cedar where they were amazed at the size of the tree. We also had some fun identifying wildflowers in bloom. Since we got a late start, we skipped the Morris Cedar Grove and headed straight to the mountain.

The hike is 2.8 miles one-way on a gated road, thus the terrain is open on a well-defined path. The first half of the hike is completely open though a clear-cut. This patch is recovering with a nice cover of bushes and small trees creating a great habitat for birds. It also opens up the slopes to views of surrounding mountains. About a mile in, we reach a spot where we can see the summit. It’s tempting to hike stright up, but it’s certainly easier to walk the extra distance around to the other side. After this point, we re-enter the national forest and into a nice forested patch of hemlock and spruce with a dense understory of huckleberry. Based on the number of flowers on the huckleberry bushes, I think we may have a good year this year. During the last mile, the incline steepens as you gain about 500 feet to reach the tower.

An 80-foot fire tower stands on the summit of Elk Butte, however the cabin at the top is not accessible to the general public. A lower cabin at 30 feet is accessible by a stairway. Though the interior is locked, visitors can stand on the deck and look down at the town of Elk River 3000 feet below. There are theoretically veiws in all directions, but this requires you to lean around the cabin to see what is toward the north.

Elk Butte sits in an ideal location, central to viewing some prominent landmarks around north-central Idaho. To the north, you’ll view the meadow-covered slopes of Freezeout Saddle. To the east, you’ll notice some high peaks beyond Dworshak Reservoir. These belong to the Mallard-Larkins area. Some of the other high landmarks require a clear day. To the southeast, you might see some snow-covered peaks on the horizon belonging to the Bitterroot mountains. To the south, behind the camas prairie is the snow-capped Gospel Hump. A little bit further west, the Seven Devils rise above the horizon, and beyond that, the Wallowas may be visible on a really clear day. To the West, you’ll gaze over the Palouse with Moscow Mountain as the first major feature on the north end.

Elk Butte sits among active logging territory, so the scenery is dotted with patches of mature and cut forest. This can detract from the overall beauty, but remember, the logging operations sustain the economy of the region and also help in the conservation of some other special places. If you can look past the massive deforestation, you can get lost in the sheer number and size of the mountains. You’re truely at the edge of civilization.

If hiking to the summit, the trail is accessible by car on well-maintained logging roads. If four-wheeling to the summit, there are trails that take off from the base of the mountain. This can easily be combined with a trip to the cedar groves and the falls for a full-day or weekend visit at Elk River. Be sure to stop at the general store for some huckleberry ice cream. We unfortunately got there too late on this trip. For a map and directions to the trailhead, view my trip report here.

I think I’ve mentioned before that there are a number of cedar groves, stands of old-growth Western Red Cedar, nearby. I’ve already posted about the Hobo Cedar Grove out near Clarkia and Grandfather Mountains. Several times I’ve been to the Giant Cedar out near Elk River. On our way into Idaho when I moved out here, Erin and I stopped at the DeVoto Cedar Grove along Rt. 12. There is a cedar grove on Moscow Mountain, but I haven’t been up there to explore it yet. The last one that I know of in the immediate area is also near Elk River on the way to the Giant Tree. Its the Morris Creek Cedar Grove, recently renamed the Perkins Cedar Grove.

To get there, follow the North Basin road out of Elk River as if you were going to the Giant Tree. There will be a left turn with a sign for the Perkins Cedar Grove a few miles up. Turn here and follow this road, keeping right at all intersections. You will rise above 4000 feet to a parking area along Morris Creek. The trail through the cedar grove is short, only a half mile, but it looks as though it sees far fewer people than either the Giant Tree or the Hobo Cedar Grove.

My first impression was that this is a nice patch of forest, but the trees aren’t nearly as large as the Hobo Grove, but as I got further into the loop, I rescinded my thoughts. There are a number of impressive trees up here along with an understory of ferns, trillium, and calypso orchid. It’s a very nice stroll through the woods, but nothing challenging. I would pair this with the Giant Tree and the falls for a complete day in Elk River.

Old growth forests are rare to come by these days. If they haven’t been logged by the lumber companies, many stands have burned due to years of fire suppression causing massive wildfires to erupt. It’s really nice to walk through stands of trees so old, they were standing long before Europeans came to America. There are four such stands that I know of within two hours of Moscow. There are a few more farther afield. I had been meaning to check out this grove since we arrived in Idaho almost two years ago. We’d always time our trips to the big tree such that we’d be hungry right after, so we had always passed up the extra trip to the Morris grove. Last year, the road was closed for construction, so we were unable to get to the grove. Finally, I made it a point to go up there and check it out. I’m glad I did.

View Oregon Butte – 5/26-27/2012 in a larger map

Things don’t always go according to plan. Along the journey, you discover new interests or find obstacles that end up providing you with a totally different experience than originally expected. This lesson was hard hit this weekend as we attempted a backpacking trip in the Blue Mountains of southeastern Washington. The trip was a success, but certainly not what I had expected.

It’s really a lesson in not getting enough information ahead of time. On paper, it looked like the perfect trip. It’s a 16-mile loop up Panjab Creek to the Mt. Misery Trail on top of the  canyon ridge. The campsite is a place called Table Camp, located on maps with a spring just a mile before Oregon Butte. The return is via Turkey Creek which merges with Panjab Creek to complete the loop. Seems simple.

The weather was already looking sketchy. The forecast called for cloudy skies and 40% chance of snow on Saturday and 30% chance of snow and rain on Sunday. But the highs were in the 50’s and lows right around, but still above freezing. But that had been the weather for the past week, and that generally meant an hour or two of precipitation followed by sunshine. We decided to go for it.

On Saturday morning, 7 of us left Moscow and headed toward the Blue Mountains. Two more would come later and meet us at the campsite. The drive in was relatively straightforward. The campgrounds along the Tucannon River were packed, but there was plenty of parking at the trailhead. The Panjab Creek trail follows the creek for about 3.5 mile through some beautiful forest. Highlights include a stand of Pacific Yew, tons of wildflowers, and the sound of the rushing creek. The next two miles become a little steeper as the trail switchbacks up the side of the canyon, topping out in a large meadow full of Grass Widow. At this point, we have risen about 2000 feet with only a couple hundred more to go. The last three miles are fairly gentle along the ridge, with fallen trees as the only major obstacle. There is some snow up there, but not so much to make the trip miserable.

Eight miles and 5 hours later, we reached table camp only to find that there was considerably more snow on the mountain slopes than I had anticipated. The spring that was supoosed to be near the camp was nowhere to be found, either no longer active, or burried deep beneath 3+ feet of snow. We made camp anyway because we were all too tired to move on. There was another spring on the map a half-mile ahead attached to a creek. I had hopes that maybe this one would be more reliable. So I set out with a small search party, but after a painful expedition, we came back without water. We hadn’t planned on dry camping. Luckily there was an abundance of snow surrounding us, and the firewood supply was neverending, so we were able to melt snow without using up our stove fuel.  Melting snow for 9 people is a slow process, but its better than going without water.

It didn’t rain on us at all on Saturday, though the sky remained overcast. That was alright. We could still see out to the Wallowas and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. In fact, it never really got too cold at night. I suspect there had been an inversion where we had the warmer air on the ridge while all the people car camping along the river had the chill. The wind wasn’t even blowing, so in all, it was a very pleasant evening.

I’m not sure what time I actually awoke, but I’m told it was before 6:00 am. There was actually blue sky and it looked like the sun might peak through the clouds. Tyler and Genevieve were up shortly after and we started a fire and made ourselves breakfast. There was no sign of movement from any of the other tents. So after waiting, Tyler and I decided we’d make a go for the summit without packs. The worst of the climb was at the beginning. The snow was slick and a few of the slopes were steep. But when we reached the top of the ridge, there was actually a strip of bare rock. From there, we could see up the last ridge to the summit of Oregon Butte where the lookout cabin stood. There was a cornice at least 10 feet high, but again, the ridge back was baren of snow.

At almost 6400 feet, the view on Oregon Butte is amazing, and the photographs provided don’t even do it justice. The drop down to the rivers below is about 3000 feet. The landscape is bigger and more rugged than it looks on the map (or Google Earth). It’s probably even more impressive on a clear day, though even with the clouds and the haze, we could still make out the high peaks of the Wallowas and the Seven Devils. I imagine that the snow will melt in the next few weeks and the butte will be available as a dayhike from Teepee. I should like to return.

When we returned to camp, everyone else was up and finishing breakfast. After discussing the prospects of finishing the loop though the high elevation snows, we concluded that it would be best to just turn around and hike back the way we came. As we left camp, the sun came out and remained with us for the rest of the day. When we reached the trailhead, the temperatures had risen to a balmy 65 degrees. I was bushed by the end of the hike. I’ve never come out of a trip that sore before, and I’ve hiked longer trips with longer days. I attribute it to being out of shape from the winter. Nevertheless, I feel that the first backpacking trip of the 2012 season was a success, and I’m already looking forward to the next one.

I was left home alone this weekend. Erin had gone down to Boise and Ontario, OR for a regional meeting of one of the support groups she attends. She was also taking Lana down to Boise to be transported to her new home with a trainer in Wyoming. So while she was gone for three days, I was in charge of watching the animals. This unfortunately meant I couldn’t go out for any extended trips. No backpacking. No camping.

So I did what any responsible adult would do when he’s got the house to himself: I threw a party. Well, not a kegger or anything huge. I invited the remaining Biology graduate students out for a cook-out and fire. It was a blast. I’ve got to do this more often. I think everyone enjoyed getting out of Moscow for the evening, too.

But back to the hikes. Saturday turned into a hike followed by a cook-out and fire. A few people came out early and we headed to Elk Creek Falls. One of the new post-docs and her husband had just arrived and this was their first excursion out of town. It was a nice day to go to the falls. The hill sides were still green and the water was raging. The vegetation in front of the lower falls overlook had been chopped back so there was a clear view. I’ve been to Elk Creek Falls many times now, and yet I don’t have any photos posted online. How can that be?

Today, I took the dogs on a longer hike. Tyler, Gen, and Matthieu went for a hike on the Feather Creek loop last weekend, and I wanted to check it out for myself. This trail isn’t very well publicized, which might be why I had a hard time figuring out where it was on my own. I heard about it from Mattheiu, who in turn found out about it from the guys at Hyperspud Sports in town. The five-mile loop isn’t very scenic. There are no views and no landmark points of interest. It’s just a trail that follows a creek for two miles, and then returns through the woods.

What it lacks in major attractions, it makes up for in the little things. At first, it seemed like this was going to be a hike through recently logged / newly regenerating forest. While it’s certainly not old growth or as mature as the forsest surrounding Elk Creek Falls, but it becomes a nice woodland hike. The first thing I noticed were the flowers. Along the creek, there were tons of Western Trillium and Anemones in bloom. As the trail left the creek and ascended the hillside into the woods, the Calypso Orchids became more abundant.

The trail meandered back into a hollow where it crosses a few streams. Here the forest is full of larger trees, mostly cedar with some pines and firs. And then I stumbled upon a strange mushroom that looked like coral. Suddenly, I began to see it growing everywhere. A few steps farther down the trail, I noticed another mushroom, this one bright orange and shaped like a bowl. The final fungal find of the day were morrells, five in total. This was my first ever sighting of morrells in the wild. I’ve marked the spot on the GPS in hopes that I can return and collect some for cooking with.

Feather Creek is a five-mile loop through a nice mix of riparian and forest habitats. Though there are no major destinations along the trail, it provides a nice escape from the developed world and provides a couple hours of relaxation and feeling of solitude. Because its not well publicized, you’re likely to have this trail to yourself. This appears to be a promising wildflower and flora hike, but also seems like a promising place for wildlife sightings. There was plenty of bird activity, though I admit to not taking the time to try and identify everything I heard and saw. The trail is fairly new and appears to be well maintained. It’s not very steep and there’s not much elevation change, making it an easy hike for a family. There is a longer loop that takes off up the ridge, though the sign at the beginning claims this trail hasn’t been completed yet.

Feather Creek is located a few miles north of Bovill. To get there, travel north on Rt. 3 about 4 miles from Bovill. Turn left onto Talapus Creek Road. There will be a sign for the Feather Creek trail. Continue for a mile and turn right onto Feather Creek Road. The trailhead has a sign about 1.7 miles up.

Map and Elevation Information

The photo above was taken in February of 2010, my first visit to Asotin Creek. I’ve been back a couple of times as it is usually a reliable winter hike that is free of snow. I had never gone down in the spring when everything is green, and certainly not in the summer when temperatures can reach the 100 degree mark. So it was that Erin and I decided to spend a day down at Asotin Creek. The local wildflowers should be in bloom, and the hills might show hints of colors other than the drab brown of dried grass. We would also take the GPS and search for geocaches hidden along the trail. There are many.

So, we set out for the canyon, stopping in Clarkston to grab some food for Erin. We pulled off at the Headgate County Park to grab a few caches and let the dogs out to stretch their legs. As we approached the wildlife management area, I saw signs that a Discovery Pass was required in order to park. Washington has recently begun charging for vehicle access to its state recreation lands, and the Asotin Creek trailhead falls under this juisdiction. A day pass is $10, and an annual pass is $30. I certainly wasn’t going to pay that much for a day trip, and I don’t visit the state lands enough to justify a $30 pass.

During the winter, there is a gate across the road just before the trailhead, kept closed to keep cars out during the mating season. The gate is opened in the spring and summer, which allowed us to drive past the trailhead, through the state land, and into the national forest. Here the road climbs out of the canyons and into the high country (5000 ft.) where there are more trees and more green grass, and subsequently more wildflowers. The meadows were full of Grass Widow, Yellow Bells, Mountain Bluebell, and even the occasional paintbrush had started to bloom. As much as I like the desert-like habitat down in the canyons, the upper elevations are really my favorite place to be. Of course, the the best part of being up top is the view.

When we reached the top, I pulled off the road onto a flat clearing with a view over the Asotin Creek canyon. Nearby, someone was burning and that had produced a thick haze over the mountains, but the view was still magnificent. I thought that this would make for a great campsite, and then I found a fire ring from someone else’s previous visit. We explored the meadow, looking at the wildflowers and then ate lunch.

We were really after a trail that traversed Pinkham Ridge. If we weren’t going to hike in Asotin Creek, we might as well hike above it. The Pinkham Ridge trail is really the top of the Asotin Creek trail, for after the trail heads upstream about 10 miles, it turns and heads up the steep canyon walls to Pinkham Ridge where it ends at a Forest Service road where we had parked. This last portion of the trail hasn’t been hiked very much and it certainly hasn’t been maintained. There’s no signs at the trailhead, and the trail itself seemed to have blended back in with the scenery. However, the brush and forest isn’t very thick and the grasses are short, so walking in this area isn’t too difficult, especially since the trail follows a narrow ridge. However if you were to come up this way, be sure to at least carry a map, but a GPS might be useful too.

We hiked just under 2 miles down the ridge to a little shelf and clearing, and there we laid out a blanket and napped in the tranquility above the canyon. We saw Mountain Bluebird and Stellar’s Jays and listened to the songs of the Chipping Sparrow, Chickadees, and nuthatches. So, what began as a disappointment turned out to be an awesome adventure. Next time, we can prepare for a full day in the Blue Mountains and just skip Asotin Creek altogether.

This past weekend, we had a nice day on my day off for once. So I took advantage of the sunshine and warm weather to get out and hike. Or so I thought.

I’ve been waiting to take my snowshoes out for a real winter trek, and the timing has been bad. I set my sights on the Gold Center trail, which leaves at the base of the mountains behind Clarkia and climbs its way up to the ridge just below Grandmother Mountain. I’ve always wanted to hike this trail, and winter seems like the best time to do this since the trailhead at Freezout Saddle is inaccessible.

The road out was rough as the snow was wet and almost slushy, but my Subaru made it with no trouble. Due to the past few days being so warm, I was expecting some dense, heavy snow that is fairly easy to walk on. But I found that while the snow was heavy, it was still very much unpacked, and even in snow shoes, I was having a tough time walking. Perhaps I should have brought the extra flotation tails with me after all, or perhaps I’m just woefully out of shape.

Deary has almost no snow left. Moscow and Pullman are dry. But Clarkia still has 2-3 feet, and the mountain elevations were getting fresh snow when we had rain at the bottom. That seemed promising. But I didn’t get out until after 1:00, so I had given up on making it to the ridge on this trip. I hadn’t expected the walk to be so difficult that it took me an our to go one mile on flat terrain.

Nevertheless, the snowy forest was beautiful, and my tracks were the first on this trail. Even the snowmobiles hadn’t gone this far in. The idea of getting to the summit of Grandmother Mountain in winter is somehow in reach, aided by the longer days. Still, it’s a 5+ mile, 3000 ft. ascent, so we’ll see. If I can float better on the snow, I may be able to endure the full 10 miles in one day. Otherwise, it may be summer challenge.