My relatively short existence on this planet has shown me that I am quite good at getting very, very close to destinations but not actually there. It is kind of like a modern day Zeno's Dichotomy Paradox. My brother and I have a history of making it not far from summits, I've driven for an hour out to a mountain bike trail only to realize I forgot my helmet or shoes, and I've flailed on many a rock climb right at the top (see: Cool Ranch Flavor at Smith).
This past week, Rachel and I tried to drive out to the Owyhee Reservoir. At our destination there was canyoneering in Leslie gulch and Succor creek, some sport climbing at said waterways, fishing and camping on the shores of arguably the most remote region in Oregon.
When we were filling up in the thriving metropolis of Rome, OR (blink and you'll miss it) we were told that inclement weather had caused a washout on the road to Leslie gulch. Succor creek (perhaps aptly named) was supposed to be pretty cool, and it still had climbing and canyoneering so we decided to try and go there instead. Around 8 miles from the campground, we saw the most giant grasshoppers/locusts/whatever they were I have ever seen. They made a very alien noise and where probably the size of a hotdog. We are talking old testament stuff here.
After numerous standoffs with cows (about 8 cows for every person out there), thence began the flood the likes of which the world has never seen. OK, so maybe it wasn't that bad, but the packed earth on the road turned into an adobe and axle grease combination that made the road completely impassable. We camped there, on the side O' the road hoping it would dry out that night. It didn't, so we decided to drive in from the other side.
This meant unavoidably driving into Idaho for a couple of hours. The roads there were just as bad. Disenchanted, we headed back towards Bend. We camped at Glass Butte on Highway 20, which I would recommend checking out. I've never seen more obsidian in my life, thus the Butte's name. There were many beautiful wildflowers viewed on our hike to the top, which mostly made up for a trip that had so far involved a buttload of driving. Rachel is such a good sport, and my cheerful disposition never really allows me to not have fun on road trips. It just didn't turn out like we had envisioned. But maybe that's a good thing. A little unexpected weather tantrum can sure keep you on your toes.
Near the top of Glass Butte
A hottie.
A place given the lofty title of "the Pillars of Rome." Rach and I dubbed it the mud walls of Rome. Somehow I expected a giant free standing ring of spires reminiscent of the coliseum. What we found were shabby mud cliffs with an angry peregrine falcon swooping around. Before you get the idea that I'm now jaded, it was actually awesome, just totally not what you would expect. Bonus: One more place in Oregon that I've now visited.
Considering you could almost get stuck walking around, we decided not driving further.
There was concern for a while this was going to become a permanent part of the car
The country out near the Owyhee river is completely stunning. There were sweeping vistas punctuated by odd spires and giant cliff faces. I'll have to go back and check out the actual canyons next time.
