Old hay rake, Cache Creek – Entrance to Hell’s Canyon
Sunrise found the Sea Lion cruising east up the Snake River heading for our morning destination of Clarkston, Washington and Lewiston, Idaho. The skies were clear, and morning temperatures were warm. Lewiston, Idaho marks the easternmost port with access to the Pacific Ocean. From this inland location, farm and wood products are moved by barge down river, while supplies and fuel are moved up river. This commercial exchange happens largely on the rivers we have been traveling along for the last two days, and as the Sea Lion pulled into Clarkston, Washington we saw the silos holding grain and the green fields falling back away from the river covered in rolling winter wheat.
The Sea Lion tied up at a small dock just in front of the Clarkston Inn, where she would remain for the day. We would be boarding jet boats and traveling 120 miles round trip deep into Hell’s Canyon, moving south up the of the Snake River. The Snake River has cut deeply through millions of years of Columbia River Basalt flows and the older sutured rocks creating a gorge up to 5,500 feet deep – the deepest canyon in North America. The resulting different cooling patterns of the basalt created a myriad of shapes on either side of the river. The spring greens had not escaped this rocky canyon and in every nook and cranny a bit of color celebrated this brief wet season. The pink flowers of an endemic Phlox peaked out of the new grasses while the showy yellow daisy shaped flowers of the Balsam root added a deep gold to the green hills! Common mergansers, buffleheads, great blue herons and many Canada geese plied the cool waters of the Snake River for food, while a golden eagle soared close to the cliffs. Three small groups of female Big Horn Rocky Mountain sheep were spotted feeding on the new shoots of grass, tiptoeing with great agility along the basalt cliffs.
This section of the river has been designated by the federal government as Wild and Scenic in order to preserve its natural state. In recognition of this status, there are only four points in the 65-mile-long canyon where primitive roads reach downstream. We made a late morning stop at Cache Creek, the official entrance to Hell’s Canyon with back country entry on a truly scrapy dirt road. There we had a chance to wander the grounds of an old homestead including what was once a well-used root cellar near the house. Close to the barn and several out buildings, there was an old rake hook; resting, a reminder of setttlers come and gone, and wonderful ornament to frame an image of Hell’s Canyon. Part of the house had been turned into an interpretative center for those of us looking for just a little more information on life in the canyon.
For some of us there was time to take a short walk in the peace and quiet of the canyon which brought the auditory gift of Canyon wrens, hummingbirds and Wild turkeys. Along with a visual feast for the more curious wanting to see springs rapid blooming flowers up close!
Soon we returned to our jet boat and continued up canyon stopping at several tributaries that feed the Snake River. Along the way, we began to hear of the first inhabitants to the area…the Old Ones, ancestors to the Nez Perce people. From the trails on the hillsides leading up to the summer grounds to the pictographs and petroglyphs, painted stories that decorated the basalt cliffs along the river near the winter camp sights…we continued our journey throughout the remainder of the day, learning of life thousands of years ago, while traveling in the footsteps of the ancestors.
Sunrise found the Sea Lion cruising east up the Snake River heading for our morning destination of Clarkston, Washington and Lewiston, Idaho. The skies were clear, and morning temperatures were warm. Lewiston, Idaho marks the easternmost port with access to the Pacific Ocean. From this inland location, farm and wood products are moved by barge down river, while supplies and fuel are moved up river. This commercial exchange happens largely on the rivers we have been traveling along for the last two days, and as the Sea Lion pulled into Clarkston, Washington we saw the silos holding grain and the green fields falling back away from the river covered in rolling winter wheat.
The Sea Lion tied up at a small dock just in front of the Clarkston Inn, where she would remain for the day. We would be boarding jet boats and traveling 120 miles round trip deep into Hell’s Canyon, moving south up the of the Snake River. The Snake River has cut deeply through millions of years of Columbia River Basalt flows and the older sutured rocks creating a gorge up to 5,500 feet deep – the deepest canyon in North America. The resulting different cooling patterns of the basalt created a myriad of shapes on either side of the river. The spring greens had not escaped this rocky canyon and in every nook and cranny a bit of color celebrated this brief wet season. The pink flowers of an endemic Phlox peaked out of the new grasses while the showy yellow daisy shaped flowers of the Balsam root added a deep gold to the green hills! Common mergansers, buffleheads, great blue herons and many Canada geese plied the cool waters of the Snake River for food, while a golden eagle soared close to the cliffs. Three small groups of female Big Horn Rocky Mountain sheep were spotted feeding on the new shoots of grass, tiptoeing with great agility along the basalt cliffs.
This section of the river has been designated by the federal government as Wild and Scenic in order to preserve its natural state. In recognition of this status, there are only four points in the 65-mile-long canyon where primitive roads reach downstream. We made a late morning stop at Cache Creek, the official entrance to Hell’s Canyon with back country entry on a truly scrapy dirt road. There we had a chance to wander the grounds of an old homestead including what was once a well-used root cellar near the house. Close to the barn and several out buildings, there was an old rake hook; resting, a reminder of setttlers come and gone, and wonderful ornament to frame an image of Hell’s Canyon. Part of the house had been turned into an interpretative center for those of us looking for just a little more information on life in the canyon.
For some of us there was time to take a short walk in the peace and quiet of the canyon which brought the auditory gift of Canyon wrens, hummingbirds and Wild turkeys. Along with a visual feast for the more curious wanting to see springs rapid blooming flowers up close!
Soon we returned to our jet boat and continued up canyon stopping at several tributaries that feed the Snake River. Along the way, we began to hear of the first inhabitants to the area…the Old Ones, ancestors to the Nez Perce people. From the trails on the hillsides leading up to the summer grounds to the pictographs and petroglyphs, painted stories that decorated the basalt cliffs along the river near the winter camp sights…we continued our journey throughout the remainder of the day, learning of life thousands of years ago, while traveling in the footsteps of the ancestors.
