Hiking and Photographing the Owyhees

In the last five months, I’ve done more hiking than I have in the last 15 years. I find trekking the wilderness inspiring.

Most of the time, I hike alone.  My days are typically filled with interactions with numerous people. I like that. But getting away occasionally rejuvenates me.

My favorite places to hike are the Owyhee Mountains of southern Idaho. I can get to them and start hiking after a 35-minute drive.  There are benefits to living in Idaho!

I typically head out to hike in the early evening. I have several objectives for this kind of adventure. I’ve already mentioned one: I need solitude from time to time.

I also spend a great deal of my time taking photos when I hike. The “perfect” days for hiking photos have wild weather. I look for swirling clouds or sunrays shining through darkened skies. Great clouds and varied light make all the difference!

Part of my motivation to hike is exercise. I typically hike steep hills and mountains, and I often break a serious sweat. I prefer stair stepping in the wild to stair stepping at the gym.

Sagebrush, rock, and desert ravines motivate me to hike. Perhaps my experience growing up in the open spaces of eastern Washington State draw me away from forests and toward open deserts.

A couples days ago, my hike was especially enjoyable.  In previous weeks, the rains have descended in uncharacteristic May fashion.

The upside to rain, however, is that diverse desert flowers bloom. I don’t know their names, but their colorful hues appeal to my sense of beauty – especially when those flowers mix with green and golden crabgrass and green and gray sagebrush.

Two does scampered away from behind rocks while I hiked up a steep grade that day. The deer bounced off and paused after reaching a safe distance of about 60 yards. They disappeared after briefly glancing back at me. Unlike the deer I see while jogging near home, these does aren’t accustomed to seeing people.

I typically avoid trails when I hike – unless I think the trails are narrow enough to have been cleared by deer. There’s something about trekking on virgin soil that enlivens me. I could have been a fossil hunter or anthropologist if my earlier life had been different.

Sometimes I imagine finding an old miner’s campsite or Native American granary. I watch for pictographs and scan the rocks for caves. I’m also looking for animal dens and rattlesnakes. Exploring is second nature.

Last week, I followed the edge of a cliff that must have been 200-300 feet high. Rocks jutted out at weird angles. Portions of the edge had eroded. A half a dozen ravens circled below me.

While walking along the rim, I spotted a small pocket of water on a ledge.  I eased my way down to the pocket to take photos. I felt especially vulnerable – like prey exposed to an eagle’s eye and talons.

That evening the wind was especially brisk. Being on a cliff ledge makes the wind feel even stronger.

Despite the gale, I sprawled out next to the pocket of water.  I put on my wool hat and gloves, and buttoned my jacket tightly. Folding my arms on my chest to keep warm, I relaxed and enjoyed my perch.

I sat for about a half hour. The sun disappeared over the mountains in front of me. The ravens flew near to check on my status. And the wind swirled incessantly.

I lay suspended over the deep ravine, and I marveled at the beautiful creation.

Time well spent.