August 5-6, 2025.

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I signed up for a mule-supported backcountry trail crew in the Wallowas later in August, so I wanted to do a quick overnight to sort out all my gear. Aaron dropped me off at the Buck Creek Trailhead, where I camped one night before hiking into a backcountry camp. I planned to explore several highpoints in the China Cap area, since they were all pretty close to one another. It’s a part of the Wallowas that I had not yet spent any time.

China Cap and Burger Butte

I packed up and hit the trail by 8 am. The first few miles of trail passed through a lovely forest with a few creek crossings and meadows. A fire had come through the area and also left a few open burn scars. I could already feel the summer heat as I huffed and puffed up to camp.

There was one lonely campsite marked on my trail map. I dropped my heavy pack there and ran around to see if I could scout a nicer spot with a view or some water or anything. But, no luck. I had picked up extra water at the last creek crossing so at least I would be fine for the next day.

I set up my camp, took a lunch break and reviewed the map. My friend had warned me that the standard route up China Cap was pretty boring, so I intended to find my own route up. As I walked along the trail below the summit, I looked up the hillside at a talus slope bordered by wildflowers. At that point, I let the wildflowers guide my route.

Paintbrush, corn lily, coyote mint and onion gave way to pussytoes, raillardella, stonecrop and buckwheat. I was in heaven. Partway up I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye and noticed a doe and two fawns grazing in the lush meadow. I stopped and watched them for quite some time before quietly continuing up the steep hillside.

From the summit of China Cap, I took in outstanding views of the surrounding mountain range. As I wandered around the broad summit area, I contemplated my options for getting over to Burger Butte. I could go back the way I came (option A) or find a route down the south ridge, which would take me to Burger Pass (option B). I always prefer a loop, but it does feel safer to take a known route versus an unknown route. From the top, the ridge looked intimidating. I saw cliffs and twisted stands of whitebark pine. Buuuut…there had to be a way, right?

With a little bit of fussing around, I managed to find a way down most of that ridge. It led through beautiful and colorful volcanic terrain, plus I got to see a mama and baby mountain goat. Towards the bottom, it became not fun anymore and I bailed back down to the trail.

In no time, I reached the luscious purple meadow of lupine at Burger Pass. I sat there to sketch the flowers before moving on. From there, I headed straight up the steep northeast ridge to Burger Butte. I couldn’t find any details on a route online besides “passage is fairly simple”, so I assumed it would be straightforward. However, shortly after I began my ascent, I was thwarted by a cliff band. I skirted around it to the east, but I soon reached another cliff. And another. My only saving grace was the fact that everywhere I got stuck, I was surrounded by wildflowers. They kept my mood up.

Ultimately, I reached the top. After all that work, I decided to stay up there and paint. I had packed a stove and a meal so I could enjoy my dinner from there, but I did NOT want to do that downclimb in the dark. Carefully, I made my way back to the pass. I tried in vain to find a better route, but they were all terrible. When I made it to the lupine field, I breathed a sigh of relief. Camp wasn’t too far away.

At camp

Since we got the van, I haven’t done very much tent camping. I did not want to be the person on the trail trip who was futzing around with gear, forgot stuff, etc. so this was my practice run. That evening I made sure my sleeping setup was all good, I practiced using my new Ursack and assessed the efficacy of all my camp supplies. Overall, I remembered pretty much everything so I went to bed pretty happy with myself.

Later that evening, it seemed every forest creature was up making sounds and lighting up the fear sensors in my brain. Squawks, squeaks, flutters, hoof beats. It sounded like a whole herd of elk paraded past my tent while coyotes howled, birds flapped by and mysterious creatures called to each other. I put in my headphones and tried to calm my nerves. Can’t practice the skill of sleeping in the woods alone unless you’re out in the woods alone!

Granite Butte and Mule Peak Lookout

After yesterday’s debacle, I anticipated an easier day. Most of my route followed trails, with just a few quick cross country jaunts. I packed the lightest possilbe daypack so I could move fast and get back to meet Aaron at Buck Creek.

From my camp, I returned to Burger Pass. Then I hiked down into the basin below Sand Pass. I noticed the meadows down there the previous day, so I couldn’t wait to see what was hiding in all that green I saw from afar. White bog orchid, Wallowa paintbrush, tiny little asters and the last shooting stars! It was so pretty. After my flower break I continued up, up, up to the aptly named Sand Pass. From here, the trail practically disappeared. I continued along the remnants I could find and then bushwhacked up to Granite Butte. It’s probably not on any list so no one comes up here. I think all summits are worthy of visitation, so I was happy to hang out and soak up some views.

I looked at the fire tower ahead of me, which was my next destination. A rocky ridgeline connected the two peaks, so I decided to take that route to the tower. I will literally never learn, will I? Loose blocks and dense trees blocked my path like a football defensive line so I sadly returned to the trail.

Hiking up the granite sand to Mule Peak Lookout was an absolute delight. Prostrate cushion buckwheat lay peacefully in cheery mounds to my left and right. Other hardy alpine flowers made an appearance too, but when there’s buckwheat around, nothing else matters.

At the summit, I poked around to find a nice spot to hang out. It occurred to me that Aaron had to work all day anyways, so there was no need for me to rush to the trailhead. I propped my backpack up on a rock and reclined there in my botanical paradise for a while.

On the way back to camp, I paused partway between Sand Pass and the meadow to paint a really cool basalt ridge I’d noticed on the hike up. It was such a unique and special spot and I appreciated being able to sit with it for some time. I thought I heard voices when I was painting, but I never did see anyone else the rest of the day.

I made one more stop near the trailhead and that was to pick huckleberries. I’d walked through a massive field of them on the first half of the hike in and hoped I’d have enough time and energy to gather berries on. There were three species of huckleberry, ripe and ready to be picked! In an hour’s time, it didn’t even look like I made a dent in the stash. I collected enough to keep me and Aaron happy for a few days and maybe some would make it into the freezer.

Overall, this was a really successful trip and a wonderful introduction to the quiet and beautiful east side of the Wallowas. While it doesn’t have the super dramatic high peaks of the Lakes Basin, it also has none of the crowds. I’ll take that over the Instagram shot any day of the week. Plus, I felt much more confident going into my work trip with a trail crew, both because I’d field tested my gear and because I had a better sense of the geography in the area.

August 1, 2025.

9.7 mi. | 2320′ ele. gain | 5:10 hr.

Bald Mt Trail > Little Bald Mt/ Bald Mt > Hells Half Acre Tr > Willow Creek Tr

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This is one of those hikes that simply came together because of where we ended up camping. While driving from Portland to the Wallowas, I decided to take a route I hadn’t been on before. I found a free Forest Service campsite at Coalmine Hill, where we spent the night. The next day, I knew I needed a hike, so of course I looked for the nearest highpoint. Seeing a two-for-one opportunity plus a loop, I knew I had my day figured out.

The Bald Mountain trail leads straight up from the campground through a typical dry-side forest. I found myself walking amidst familiar lupine, paintbrush and currant bushes that could have placed me in the areas outside of Bend. But here I was, nearly 200 miles away and things looked just the same. As I climbed up and out of the forest, I was transported to a more harsh, high desert landscape. Here were the dried up skeletons of wild buckwheat and biscuitroot tucked between fragrant sagebrush plants. Whoa, now I really felt back at home!

The trail withered away near the summit of Little Bald Mountain, where I sat to take a break and look at the map. I got distracted by the plethora of buckwheat there and got a little disoriented. Where did that trail go? Undeterred, I bushwhacked through the suddenly lush forest until I intercepted the Hells Half Acre Trail. Here I was surprised to see a massive number of huckleberry bushes that were loaded with fruit. I dropped a pin on my map, sure to return later. But first I scrambled up the hillside back to the desert, the “bald” part of Bald Mountain. I let the interesting rocks and plants guide me on a sinuous route to the summit. At the top, I found a mailbox welded shut by rust and time. A rock wren joined me for a snack break.

The sky was filled with clouds and it felt like rain. I didn’t linger too long on top, determined to make a loop out of this hike. I retreated to the huckleberry patch and, lacking a container in which to store my finds, filled up my fanny pack. From there, I walked carefully to avoid falling and making jam out of the whole lot.

For the remainder of the hike, I was thrust into a dark, lush forest absolutely teeming with life. And it wasn’t just plants that captured my attention. I found interesting spiders on a few species of orchids and lots of pollinators on other flowers. It was a reminder that I still have so much to learn about the flora and fauna around me. The miles passed by slowly as I paused to investigate every flash of color, every wing beat, every sound. This last minute plan turned out to be one of my favorite hikes in a while.

To check out all 57 species I recorded on this hike (I still need some ID confirmations!) see my list on iNaturalist.

This is not a well-known route, though I was able to find a 2023 trip report that confirmed these trails actually exist. That is always a big question mark in my mind when I visit a not-so-popular spot in the middle of nowhere. I feel compelled to write about these trails to similarly help out a fellow hiker who performs a search for a particular trail. If that is you, I hope this information is useful. I find that the official USFS website is often not updated or accurate and I wonder why they even bother putting anything online.

Other resources I use to help plan a hike on obscure trails include:

• Google Maps: Click on the satellite view to look at overhead images of the trail. In dense forest this is obviously not useful but in more open landscapes you can often see if the trail tread is visible. It’s also helpful to scout parking areas, look for bathrooms, etc.
• Peakbagger.com: If there’s a mountain involved, someone’s climbed it and logged a report on this website. While I’m not a member and I don’t contribute to this particular site, I find it’s a wealth of information. People often contribute brief, informative written reports, GPX files and other useful tidbits.
• iNaturalist: This might not be intuitive, but hear me out. You can zoom in on the map and look for pins on the trail you’re intending to hike. Then if you check out the observations, you can see user-submitted photos and the dates they were taken. Filter for recent observations and scroll through. If there’s not much, well you’ll have to find another resource. But recent observations can at least let you know the area is passable. They might even show what you can expect to find in that area during your visit.

Do you have any favorite strategies for planning hikes? Please share!