A Walk in the Wallowas by Claire Tenscher
T
wo weeks before the devastating fires gripped Oregon, I took a three-night backpacking trip in the Wallowas. With smoke levels the way they are now, I’m thankful that I got a wonderful end-ofsummer trip.
Departing the Idaho Panhandle on a beautiful Friday morning, I headed south towards Joseph. The road swings through the forests into golden fields of ripe wheat and down across the deep canyons of the Snake River. Many of these roads are part of the Nez Perce historic trail, recounting the battles and broken treaties that led to the Nez Perce being forced out of their lands. The tribe has a presence in the Wallowas, including a fascinating hydropower station on the wilderness boundary; a sign nearby poignantly reminds hikers that everywhere a human foot can tread, it is likely one already has. The first view of the Wallowa Mountains stuns, as does the namesake lake shortly after. Two gilded moraines encircle the sapphire lake. The forested hills rise rapidly into mountains, still dotted with snow in late August. I chose to start from the Little Alps Trailhead, at
the end of Highway 82. Incidentally, no Northwest Forest Pass is required here, and there is a nice day use area with restrooms. It seemed busy to me, but to a fellow hiker, used to crowds on the Pacfic Crest and John Muir Trail, this was quiet. About 90 percent of the 75 parking slips were filled at 3 p.m. on a Friday. When I departed on Monday only about 30 percent were filled. Maps show a loop beginning up one fork of the Wallowa River and returning down another. My goal for the first night was Ice Lake; it seemed like a reasonable distance, but I hadn’t done much research beyond downloading the area’s GPS info. My late afternoon start meant I had the hike largely to myself. The trail surface is covered in a deep dust from heavy equine use. For the first two and a half miles it rises gradually through dense, healthy forest, following the West Fork. At the Ice Lake Junction, the trail splits and crosses
Ice Lake with alpenglow as the sun sets behind The Matterhorn, the author camped on the rise just across the outlet stream from where this photo was taken. Photo by Claire Tenscher.
this wide stream on a lovely log bridge with a handrail. The trail then climbs a dramatic 2,000 feet, but that’s spread over five miles, thanks to a serious commitment to switchbacks. Several groups of what I assumed must be day hikers descended past me with tiny school backpacks, making me conscious of my large load. Ice Falls is visible from a distance and with a little maneuvering several close views are possible. A white cataract spills through dark green trees. The waterfall mostly clings to a rock face, but in several sections throws itself bodily into thin air. As I reached the upper falls, the sun dropped below the mountains and several lovely campsites tempted me. The air cooled but I pressed on, hoping that there would still be light above. The trail suddenly topped the ridge and Ice Lake became visible. Tents dotted the shore. Reddish-pink rays of light still graced half the water. I jumped in while the rocks
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