Return to the Oregon Desert Trail

McDermitt Alternate to West Little Owyhee

After a night of car camping on the Alvord Desert playa, my friends drop me off on a dirt road near McDermitt, Nevada to experience the desert in the most immersive way possible: alone and one bad call away from heat stroke.

As they drive off to three weeks of backpacking in the Tetons, I begin my walk in what can only be referred to as a biblical plague. The Mormon cricket hatch was not one of the challenges I’d prepared for. As I walk further from town, their numbers swell. My attempt to avoid the jumping bugs – each about the size of a matchbox car- is fruitless. I try to ignore the distinct crunch of each misplaced step. There are millions of them. 

Leaving the dry basin of McDermitt, the hills once again erupt out of nowhere and remind me why I love this part of Oregon. I was last here a year ago on my first thru attempt of the ODT. I got off trail for personal reasons, but knew I would be back to experience this landscape. Despite the heat, lupine and small desert wildflowers are still in bloom and the green hills make for pleasant walking. Aside from the crickets, I see pronghorn, eagles, and fence lizards basking in the sun. Clear pools of water from the West Little Owyhee and a grassy canyon meadow make for lovely camping as I make an early night of it and enjoy the sunset from my home for the night.

Three Forks to Rome

Up and early to Rome. There is cell service and I take this time to catch up with friends and family as I walk the final miles of the section. The cross-county descent into ‘town’  is fairly steep, but it’s easy enough to pick my way down, across the Owyhee, and to Rome station.

Time to charge up my battery bank and fuel up on Gatorade and french fries. 

The original route of the ODT (now called the Rome alternate in the guidebook) goes over a historic bridge and up onto the plateau that makes up the next section to Lambert Rocks. The rerouted ODT (thanks to aggressive dogs from the private property around the bridge that borders the original route) goes up the interstate, up a canyon, down, crosses Jordan Creek, back up, and then cross county back to where the original route meets.

It’s 6 pm at this point, very hot, and I’m exhausted. The woman I befriended at Rome station agrees to drive me over the bridge later that night to avoid the dogs (who attack the car) and I am eternally grateful. If getting the ride over the bridge counts as cheating, so be it.

It is the full Strawberry Moon that night and I hike into the early morning under the soft, pink light.

Lambert Rocks to Leslie Gulch

When in Rome, as they say, I spent a few hours going over my exact schedule and water stops for the next few days. The heat is no joke and there is no getting help out here, so I need to take this seriously. The heat has killed my appetite (as expected), but I can go with a calorie deficit for a while. I can’t, however, go without sodium and electrolytes. My nutrition strategy consists of a steady intake of gels and Nuun throughout the day plus a plain tortilla if I can stomach it. Forgetting to eat is not an option this trip. My new focus becomes drinking and keeping my heart-rate down. No powering up hills, no running down them. Safe and slow.

At night, when temperatures are slightly cooler, I try to catch up on calories and force myself to eat cold-soak bean burritos. This works well; I keep hydrated, keep my energy up, and feel good and strong despite the heat.

The sagebrush plain slowly turns into red-rock spires that jut up out of the brown hills. I’ve made it to the Owyhee Canyonlands. The most impressive section of the entire ODT, and surprisingly, the largest unprotected area in the lower 48. The ‘easy route’ is blocked by private property, so my route takes me instead through a canyon with cow-trails I can only imagine are created by cows channeling their inner Alex Honnold.

I distract myself from the exposure by breaking my no-rock-collecting policy for the trip (every gram dedicated to water). Jade-colored rocks litter the ground and I pick up and leave behind different pieces until I have the perfect one for my ODT rock shelf. Before I know it, the canyon is navigated and I’m at the swim portion of the ODT.

I am delighted to be at the Owyhee again. The shore is marked with giant walls of rocks and a clear stream makes the perfect place to rest after traveling the canyon. There is a game trail one could take if one preferred not to get in the water, but I’ve been talking this part up for the past six months and it’s 100 degrees and I didn’t buy and carry two whole roll-top dry bags all this way to not get in the damn water.

“Here it is. Hope I don’t die,” I say to my video journal before packing my phone up and jumping in. Honestly, not that bad. The only mistake I make is breaking my own water crossing rule: always wear your shoes. Thanks to my decision back on the shore to attempt this section in sandals, I end up slicing my foot on a rock.

At the shore the exhaustion finally hits me. I never stopped today. From the road walk to the canyon to the swim, I was so focused on the route I didn’t stop once. I sit on the shore with my sliced foot and fantasize about someone driving up and offering me a ride the rest of the way.

I’m in a bad mood now. Hungry? Of course, I’ve eaten nothing but running gels and two tortillas. Angry? Yes, I broke my shoe rule and now I’m cleaning up and bandaging my foot due to my own hubris. Tired? I’ve been hiking since 4:45 this morning, it’s now 6 pm.

Ok, easy fixes. Snack, Aleve, and an hour nap at the campground. Walking out of Leslie Gulch provides a perfect end to the day with the towering walls around me. I walk bathed by the red-glow of the sunset folding into lavender and indigos as the night falls. 

Leslie Gulch to Owyhee Reservoir

The alarm seems to get earlier every morning. I filter water and then hike up Juniper Gulch. I will go ahead and spoil that this next section ends up being my favorite so that I don’t have to find words to explain the beauty that makes up each rock. Just know that each turn is better than the last and I can’t believe I am here.

About an hour in, I see signs of heat exhaustion – probably from my intense day yesterday. I feel dizzy and stop to lay down with my feet up. I take running gels, drink more water, and try not to feel guilty about ‘wasting’ the cool morning hours. After about two hours, I feel back to normal and continue on my way.

The main concern with the last section is water. I am going through a liter a mile right now with the heat and the water is not plentiful or all that great. The pools I find in drainages are still yellow after filtering and have a distinct bitter taste that not even double treating with both a filter and aqua-mira gets rid of. That’s okay though because I am thoroughly enjoying the day. Painted Canyon is my highlight. Golden eagles nest on top of spires. Huecos speckle the walls where swallows make their homes. I even find (and leave) an arrowhead.

But of course, this is the ODT. It can’t be that easy. The canyon turns into a smaller canyon and eventually leads to boulder scrambling to get up and out. From here, there is a spring. I don’t need water because I am waiting for the supposedly better water source in a few miles, but I figure I will be a good ODT hiker and check it out so I can update the data book.

What looks like dried, caked mud surrounding the spring turns out to be a cow poop sink hole. So, at 9:30 at night, I am stuck up to my knees in black cow shit. Awesome.

I camp up on a ridge. Tomorrow, Owyhee.

Owyhee Reservoir – Last Day

4am wake up. It’s going to be a hot one and I have eight miles to the terminus. 

I can’t think of a better way to end such a spectacular trip and a trail that has grown to be so important to me than the view of the Owyhee reservoir. My parents meet me at Indian Creek Campground and we walk out to the terminus on the peninsula together.

Despite growing up in the high desert, the ODT deepened my appreciation and understanding of the fragile desert ecosystem that exists in much of the state. The route differed from my other thru-hikes in how personal it always felt. The story of the Oregon desert is visible in each step and I am so thankful to those working to preserve the wild that still exists.