June 23-24, 2023.
10.4 mi | 2225′ ele. gain | 6:45 hr.
Far, far up in the northeast corner of Oregon lies an old, boarded up fire lookout called Buckhorn Lookout. It’s only about an hour’s drive from Joseph, but the little mountain town of Joseph is many miles away from most places. Based on the write up in Matt Reeder’s Extraordinary Oregon, I decided to put this on the list of places to visit while wildflower touring around Oregon.
We arrived just before sunset and took in the incredible light show in the sky from the lookout viewpoint. The van looked particularly majestic in this colorful skyscape. The lookout itself is perched atop a remarkable canyon rivaling the Grand Canyon. But here we were, in Oregon, enjoying a quiet and peaceful vista worthy enough to be in a National Park.
Eureka Point hike
In the morning, I pointed my GPS towards Eureka Point. I began my walk from Eureka Lookout, following rough dirt roads, to the official trailhead for this hike. I think this is actually the better place to begin the hike, especially during wildflower season. I walked past so many vibrant patches of flowers, including buckwheat, mule’s ears, larkspur and geranium. It was a very scenic road walk that was about to get even more scenic.
The route follows an old road, so the tread is wide and generally pretty gradual as it descends into the Imnaha Canyon. Bees and butterflies buzzed and flitted among the plethora of perky blooms. A cool breeze blew up from the canyon below; I knew it wouldn’t last, so I enjoyed it while I could. Along the road, I passed through shady clumps of trees, wide open meadows, rock gardens. It became notably drier and dustier the further I went. It amazes me how hiking a trail with significant elevation gain is like time travel; what’s in peak bloom at the top is long gone at the bottom, and vice versa. I traveled through spring to early summer to late summer all in the course of a few hours.
The last third of the hike was extremely hot, brown and desperate looking. I debated whether it was worth going to the end point noted in the book or whether my time would be better spent prancing through the wildflower meadows back towards the lookout. But I was so close, and I thrive on hitting known targets, so I carried on.
Despite the book describing an actual route to this slightly-off-trail viewpoint, I made my own way out there (mostly because I’d forgotten this narrative existed). I climbed over a barbed wire fence, poked around at a few overlooks, then almost get poked back: prickly pear cactus! It was of course, too late to see them in flower, but I was still excited to find a new-to-me patch of cactus in Oregon!
It was very windy up there. I found the most reasonable spot to sit, eat lunch and paint. I couldn’t imagine ever being back in that area again, so I really wanted to savor my time there. Painting has given me a good reason to sit and enjoy a space. To really see a space. And to notice just how much I don’t see when I’m in motion. I still can’t believe how much time I’ve wasted trying to move as quickly as I could through a landscape. And just how much I’ve missed.
On my way back, I stumbled into the route Matt described, which was a totally normal and reasonable way to go. Of course. The walk back was hot, hot, hot. The sun’s position in the sky meant far fewer opportunities for shade, so I stopped at every chance I got. One really nice shady spot was already occupied by a really angry robin, who screeched at me incessantly until I got up and moved. I hoped that I’d brought enough water (I did).
On the way back, I watched the clouds drift across the sky. I noticed the palette of colors sprayed across each hillside. I marveled at the history carved into distant canyon walls. The landscape had so many stories to tell, if only one took the time to stop and listen.
We’d spend another couple nights at the viewpoint, since it was such a special place. Worth a visit for anyone who calls Oregon home for a day, a year, a lifetime.