The following image will appear in the November 2010 issue of Backpacker Magazine. It was taken on a quiet August morning last year, a little after sunrise. Summit Lake features two campgrounds and is centrally located along the main road through Lassen Volcanic National Park. It also serves as a trail head to some solitary back country hiking.
This is the conclusion of a recent backpacking trip to Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness. If you missed them, check out the first part here and the second part here.
I emerged from my tent half an hour before dawn on the morning of the fourth day a very cold man. My breath had frozen into ice crystals in the mesh on the inside of my tent and the 25 degree night had pushed my 30 degree sleeping bag beyond its limits. Watching the alpenglow emerge on the cliffs above the lake, I warmed myself by jumping up and down behind my tripod. Just as the sun was hitting the top of the peak, a cloud bank moved up out of the valley to the east, catching the sun’s rays.
The photo above shows our meager, no-fire campsite. Although cold, the entire area was beautiful to behold. With eager anticipation for some warmth, I watched the sun creep down the face of the cliff. The cloud bank continued to move up from the valley to the east, and a new set of much darker, ominous clouds emerged from the valley to the west. Suddenly I began to get nervous about some weather moving in, and we packed our site quickly, skipping breakfast.
As we were getting ready to leave, the sun finally hit the surface of the lake, generating steam rising from the frigid water.
The photo above shows the shoreline silhouetted against darkening storm clouds. The rising steam is backlit by the sun. It was definitely time to leave. I felt a little better that we were packed up, because if it started pouring on us, we could at least throw a poncho over us to keep dry. Packing up camp in a downpour on the other hand, was a miserable proposition.
As we hiked up out of Glacier Lake on our way to Glacier pass, the clouds continued to gather. From a higher elevation, the entire expanse of the lake was visible. The photo above was stitched from five overlapping photos, hand held. When photographing a panorama, the most important thing to keep consistent between images is focus and exposure. Things like white balance can be corrected on the computer later.
Closer to the pass, we got a view of the west fork of the Wallowa River draining out of the eastern end of Glacier Lake, and continuing down the valley to Frazier Lake, which we visited the day before. This photo shows how the entire eastern side of Glacier Lake seems to float high above deep valleys on three sides. It was stitched together from nine vertical shots, all hand held. Whenever possible, I shoot panoramas in a vertical format to preserve the top and bottom of the final image. Often times, the warping of photos by the stitching algorithms can reduce the resulting photo to a thin strip. The vertical format helps to counteract the vertical image loss.
We descended from Glacier Pass down to Moccasin Lake, and then a short distance to Mirror Lake. Originally I had planned to spend the night at Mirror Lake, but after talking to a ranger the night before, we decided to push through so our last day was not so long. She told us that there were over 60 groups camping at Mirror Lake the night before. Not wanting to hike for four days only to camp right on top of people, it was a no-brainer.
Past Mirror Lake, we climbed the steep trail to Horton Pass, our exit point of the Lakes Basin management area. Just before the top of the pass is the cutoff trail to the summit of Eagle Cap itself – the omniscient sentry overlooking much of the Lakes Basin. The trail junction offered up-close views of the peak and surrounding area.
At Horton Pass, I thought surely we had seen the highlights of the trip, and we could more or less blast through the descent from the pass to the car. However, Eagle Cap Wilderness had one final surprise in store for us – Eagle Creek Canyon.
We left the crowds behind (we didn’t see anyone else until we got close to our car the following day) and started downhill, all of our climbing behind us. As we descended further from the pass, the landscape got more beautiful. False hellebore turning golden and orange contrasted with the greens of the surrounding forest.
Sharp peaks lined each side of the canyon, while Eagle Creek rushed ahead, gathering size and force with every tributary we passed.
Once again, fast moving clouds created an ever-changing light show on the eastern cliffs. We hiked until the sun set behind the western ridge overlooking the canyon. With several hours of daylight left, we had plenty of time to find a picturesque camp site shaded by a ring of trees. Nearby, Eagle Creek could be heard gurgling away.
The photo above was just outside of the tree ring surrounding our camp site. Wildflowers were everywhere, creating a variegated feast for the eyes. This canyon was as scenic (if not more so) than the Imnaha River Valley we visited earlier in the trip. It was well worth the additional effort of a longer drive and more elevation gain to visit these two rivers, offering more spectacular sights and more solitude than the popular Lakes Basin area.
The next morning, we were up early and quickly broke camp and got on the trail. While we were anxious to get back to the car (and start our 7 hour drive!) we still lingered here and there to enjoy our surroundings. The beauty and variety of the scenery cemented my decision to come back to this part of Oregon for future trips. There is so much to explore here.
This is a continuation of a recent backpacking trip to Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness. If you missed it, check out the first part of the Eagle Cap journey here.
Our third day on the trail started in one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen. The closer we hiked to Hawkins Pass and the headwaters of the Imnaha River, the more spectacular the scenery became. The trail from our river-side camp site all the way to the pass gave us varied views of Jackson Peak to the west.
The bright yellows and oranges of the sun-baked meadows gave way to light and dark bands of green, with gray cliffs towering above. Just below Jackson Peak was a tree-less avalanche field, adding variety to the features of the landscape. Sunlight played through the fast-moving clouds, drawing shadows across the scene. Every moment brought a new mood and a changing picture.
Just when I thought we had seen all this valley had to offer, the land rose abruptly, turning the gentle Imnaha River into a beautiful waterfall. A short hike from the trail to the bottom of the falls was well worth the effort.
As the trail climbed in elevation, the valley opened up into a large bowl. Glacial snow melt cascaded down the sheer cliffs in tiny trickles, gathering the bowl to form the headwaters of the Imnaha. Darker gray and brown rock was banded throughout the limestone, forming a colorful tapestry of geological history. In this high mountain air, it was hard to imagine that this limestone was formed from the crushed bones of ancient sea creatures and coral. I tried to picture looking out upon vast coral reefs teaming with fish.
The trail continued upward toward Hawkins pass, switch-backing up a steep slope. This offered us expansive views of the valley we had hiked up that morning. Here is my brother once again volunteering to be my backcountry adventure model. I’d like to think he enjoyed the view as much as I enjoyed capturing him in it. This image is truly a kaleidoscope of nature, with oranges, yellows, many shades of green, all fading into the light blue of the distant mountains and sky.
After a quick break at the top of Hawkins pass, we were ready to descend into the popular Lakes Basin. Here we met our first people of the trip – an indication that we were entering a very popular area. In fact, from this point on, the trail got much busier (that is until we left the Lakes Basin area the following day!) The view from the pass was mostly rocky steep talus slopes. In the photo above, the wilderness’ namesake, Eagle Cap, can be seen peeking over the horizon, in the center-left.
The trail dropped to Frazier Lake, a popular spot to stop for lunch and a quick dip in the water. Once again, white limestone cliffs made an appearance. Here, a trail splits off to Wallowa Lake, following the west fork of the Wallowa River, but we turned left and started climbing again. After a short climb up a narrow valley, we arrived at Glacier Lake, our destination for the night.
Due to their overuse, at all lakes in the Lakes Basin area, it is against regulations to have a campfire. I don’t know why, but when I’m in these regulated areas, mother nature seems to spite me with some very cold nights. As the sun set over the horizon and the wind picked up, I knew we’d be in for a doozy. Staring across the lake at the glaciers clinging to the slopes of the cliff face, I could see where this lake got its name. In fact, this lake is only ice free for two months of the year. After that long night on the lake, I wasn’t surprised a bit.
To see more, be sure to check out the third part conclusion of this trip.
About a month ago I took a five day backpacking trip, accompanied by my brother and father. We decided to check out Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon’s largest National Wilderness area. Our loop took us through a “back door” approach to the very popular Lakes Basin management area of the wilderness, which features dozens of mountain lakes surrounded by towering peaks.
After a 5.5 hour drive from Portland, we got to the eastern side of Whitman National Forest, at which point we spent another 1.5 hours on unpaved forest service roads. Now I understood why our route was completely devoid of other people. The much more popular route into the Lakes Basin is to leave from Wallowa Lake from the north. After parking, we had a steep climb of 3000 feet in 6 miles. We got to our destination of Crater Lake with just enough daylight to set up camp.
The next morning we enjoyed the sunrise, broke camp, and pumped our water for the day. The photo above shows my brother and father getting water from the lake, with the reflection of Krag Peak in the surface of the water. Due to the lack of clouds that morning, the sunrise was rather dull, but the water was so still and clear that it provided very nice reflections. Once we were done, we hiked around the north side of Crater Lake and caught our first view of Cliff Creek Canyon.
Cliff Creek flows from an outlet of Crater Lake to the north east, eventually joining the Imnaha River. Cliff Creek Canyon a V-shaped valley interspersed with forest and meadows. I could see the remnants of various wildflowers here, although I think we were catching the tail end of the season. The trail was fairly uneventful, until we reached the Imnaha itself – a much bigger river, in a more impressive valley.
After an easy creek crossing, we wound up the Imnaha River Valley in a northerly direction, following the South Fork of the Imnaha River. Here the landscape exploded with beauty, informing us that everything before was just a prelude. Towering white limestone cliffs greeted us at every turn.
Broad meadows stretched before us, with mountains to each side. Lush grass bloomed with wild flowers, growing near the many tributaries running out of the mountains.
We hiked on until close to sunset, at which point we found a shaded camp site next to the river. Although the temperature dropped significantly that night, we had a pleasant night sleep listening to the quiet burbling of the water.
To see more, be sure to check out part two of this trip.
