For my thirtieth birthday, my husband Nico—who made it very clear almost as soon as we started dating that he did not like camping or backpacking and had no intention of being my outdoor adventure buddy—agreed to backpack thirty miles with me in the Eagle Cap Wilderness in Wallowa County, Oregon. I researched the trail (sort of...this is not my strong suit), scoured the internet for a map, highlighted our route, dug my camping gear out of the closet behind the couch, and packed our food.
When the day of departure finally arrived, we filled our coffee thermoses, loaded our packs and puppy into the back of our little green car, and hopped on the highway going south. The short drive from Moscow, Idaho to Joseph, Oregon spans three states and is itself a beautiful part of the trip, crossing the rolling hills of the Palouse, curving down the grade into Lewiston, across the Snake River into Washington, winding and weaving down Joseph Canyon, through the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest, and finally into Wallowa County.
We parked at the Wallowa Lake Trailhead—a busy spot with bathrooms and potable water spouts, and signs warning about the herds of aggressive mountain goats that will try to drink your sweat and eat your camping gear—and followed signs for Aneroid Lake. This portion of East Fork Trail 1804 was wide and well-maintained, and we ran into several other hikers in the first few miles. As we ascended through the forest, our puppy Ruby darting in and out of the trees, we ran into fewer and fewer people. By the time we reached the lake, we hadn’t seen anyone for a couple miles, and had our pick of the backcountry sites at Aneroid Campsite.
We chose a bluff overlooking the brilliant blue lake, which is surrounded by evergreen trees and snowcapped mountains. We nestled our tent beside a wall of pines that helped block the wind blowing over the water, collected wood for a fire, and then wandered down to the lakeshore. Ruby swam in the ice-cold water and we admired the view, which was especially impressive from that vantage point.
Aneroid Lake
Sunset is early in the mountains, and we returned to our campsite around 4:00 to start preparing dinner. We toasted bagels over the flames, sliced cheese and sausage, and heat up soup. Having something warm and hearty on the trail is such a treat, and we felt like we were really feasting when we sipped pre-made Manhattans from our flask before snuggling into our tent at 7:00 p.m.
Although temperatures were in the thirties that night, we were perfectly warm in our down bags, Ruby alternately sleeping peacefully between us and attempting to dive into my bag. The next morning, we ate a quick breakfast of oatmeal and instant coffee, broke down camp, and hopped back on the East Fork Trail, heading for Tenderfoot Pass.
East Fork Trail toward Tenderfoot Pass
During this portion of the trail I told Nico I felt like the Van Trapp family hiking into the Swiss Alps in the final scene of “The Sound of Music.” We were on a mountain pass surrounded by mountains, not another soul in sight, and for the first time on the trip it truly felt like we were in the wilderness.
Tenderfoot Pass
After coming to the top of Tenderfoot Pass, we began the steep ascent up Polaris. We stopped for a snack on the trail and Ruby froze, pointing at something in the valley below us. It turned out to be a herd of elk; we watched them move from a copse of trees up a snowy hillside, the bucks bugling as they led the way.
Polaris Pass was by far the most difficult portion of the trail. When we reached the top—the highest point of this loop—we were confronted by two different paths, both of which seemed like nothing more than game trails. After consulting our map and making a mental note that we could both really use a refresher course in Orienteering, we decided to go left, along the ridge. This was a mistake.
The “trail” petered out as soon as we came over the edge of the ridge. We could see the actual path far below and, given where we’d ended up, we decided the best thing to do was to pick our way straight down the mountainside until we reached the path. Nico, carrying a pack three times heavier than mine and still as agile as one of the mountain goats we had yet to see, nimbly skipped through the shale, Ruby prancing at his heels. I, scared of heights and not the world’s most graceful hiker, sat on my heels and scootched through the scree. It was slow. It was slightly terrifying. But eventually I joined Nico and Ruby on the trail, which was very narrow and covered in loose rocks that had a tendency to avalanche down the side of the mountain after every step. This sketchy portion only lasted a quarter of a mile or so, and then we were back on solid ground, following sweeping switchbacks into the valley. And the view, well, it was definitely worth it.
View as we descended Polaris Pass
After descending Polaris Pass, we connected to West Fork Trail 1820 and followed it to Frazier Lake. We'd decided to eat lunch at Glacier Lake so, although it was already well past noon, we marched by the shallow, sparkling waters of Frazier without stopping. From here we hopped onto the Glacier Lake Trail and once again began climbing up. Up, up, up.
As we trudged up our third mountain pass of the day, I realized that I am woefully out of shape. A couch potato, really. I began plotting the ways I'd improve my workouts: more hours at the gym. Like, lots of hours. Hiking Moscow Mountain daily while carrying a full pack. Yoga morning and night. Something, anything, to ease the pain next time I hiked this trail -- which, even in the agony of the moment, I had every intention of doing.
Or maybe next time we split the three mountain passes and 21 miles from Aneroid Lake to Moccasin Lake between two days...
Anyway, we finally made it to Glacier Lake and our long-awaited lunch: tuna and chicken on tortillas, a handful of nuts, and plenty of dried mango. It was almost 4:00 at that point, and we were too tired and sore to attempt to capture the beauty of the lake with photos. We scarfed our food, rested in the sunshine and cold wind for a few minutes, and then hit the trail again.
We were hopeful that Glacier Lake was the high point of Glacier Pass. It is not. The trail beyond the lake is composed of large rocks and continues steeply heavenward, looking down on a stunning meadow below. Although my shoulders and quads were screaming, I tried to take it all in: the snow on the mountain peaks above us, the brilliant fall colors on the trees and bushes around us, birds hanging on the wind in the valley below us. And then over the ridge ahead came a man on horseback, a dog dancing ahead and another horse following behind.
He was like a sage emerging from the sagebrush, a prophet stepping forth from the wilderness, an angel who gave us an excuse to step off the trail and take a break (we had to get out of his way) and who told us that we could surely make it into the Lakes Basin before dark.
He was right. We soon topped Glacier Pass and then descended down a snowy forest trail. Just as the sun was sinking behind the tallest Wallowas, we came to Moccasin Lake. The water was perfectly still and mirrored the surrounding snowcapped peaks. The air smelled sweet and fresh. We again nestled our tent amongst the trees, with an unobstructed view of the lake and the mountains beyond, and fell asleep under the bright light of the rising moon.
Moccasin Lake
The next morning, our tent was covered in ice, though we were nice and toasty inside. Nico braved the cold and got up to make coffee. Sitting in my warm sleeping bag and drinking that coffee while gazing at the breathtaking view before me was one of my favorite parts of the trip.
We packed up slowly, enjoying the unbroken quiet of being alone in the mountains. After stuffing as much as we could fit into Nico's pack, we loaded Ruby into mine to give her a little break, and made our way back to Trail 1810.
The lakes of the Lakes Basin were pleasant enough, though not as impressive as Glacier or Moccasin. In fact, this was true of all 15 miles we walked that day. It was a nice hike, along streams and through forests of green pines and golden tamaracks and quaking aspens, but it paled in comparison to the majesty of crossing the mountain passes the day before. It was, however, mercifully downhill.
We moved fast, taking few breaks, and were back at the Wallowa Lake Trailhead by 2:00, feeling exhausted and exultant by turns. We hobbled to the car, drove a few miles to Embers Brewhouse, and collapsed at a table to rest our blistered feet and relive our favorite moments over burgers and beers.
Four days later our muscles have stop aching, our knees have stopped shaking, our shoulders have straightened back out, and I'm already plotting the next trip.
All Trails has this loop marked at 31.4 miles, but the GPSs on both our phones clocked 45 miles, and we rarely deviated from the trail. In the comments for this route on All Trails, other hikers share similar mileage. And let me tell you, it FELT like 45 miles!
Day 1 (9 miles): Started at Lake Wallowa Trailhead and followed East Fork Trail 1804 to Aneroid Campsite. Supposedly 6 miles, but both of our phones clocked 9.
Day 2 (21 miles): Continued on East Fork Trail 1804 over Tenderfoot and Polaris Passes. After descending Polaris, we connected to West Fork Trail 1820 and continued on it to Frazier Lake. We took the Glacier Lake Trail to the lake, over Glacier Pass, and to Moccasin Lake.
Day 3 (15 miles): We followed Trail 1810A down into the Lakes Basin, where we connected to West Fork Trail 1820. This took us all the way back to the Wallow Lake Trailhead.