Nee-Me-Poo & Imnaha Trails, Hells Canyon 4-23 to 4-24-19
Posted: April 30th, 2019, 3:02 pm
I took a quick excursion out to Snake River country, hiking a couple of trails and enjoying the spring ambience in the Lower Imnaha valley. From Imnaha itself, it was 6 ½ miles north on the narrow but paved Lower Imnaha Road passing bucolic rural homesteads with basalt rimrock and grassy benches above. Then it was another 16 ½ miles on the hardened mud and rock of the notorious Dug Bar Road until I got to the first trailhead.
Dug Bar Road
This drive merits a few photos of its own. The road was, in fact, quite negotiable but wound up and down with some almost vertical drop offs. It would be slippery after a heavy rain or snow melt and dusty in the summer, but there was no traffic on it at all, so I just ambled along at about 15 mph enjoying the views.
Nee-Me-Poo Trail
This was my first stop since I was determined to hike to Dug Bar and not drive all the way. It’s a National Historic Trail that ends at a section of the Nez Perce National Historic Park. In May 1877, Chief Joseph (Hinmatóowyalahtq’it) of the Wallowa band of the Nez Perce (Nimíipuu), was given an ultimatum by Army General Oliver O. Howard. The band had not ratified an 1863 treaty that put other groups of Nez Perce onto reservations and the Wallowa band remained in their ancestral home, the broad grassy expanses of the Wallowa valley which held the graves of their ancestors, but was now much coveted by white settlers for farmland. Chief Joseph was given 30 days to leave for an Idaho reservation or consider himself at war with the U.S. government. Whole villages had to be packed up, and thousands of cattle and horses were driven into Hells Canyon, where they crossed the swift-flowing spring current of the Snake River at Dug Bar. Hundreds of livestock were lost, but all the people crossed safely. The band were continuing to the Lapwai Reservation, but after some young members killed four settlers in retaliation for the murder of a Nez Perce elder, Joseph decided to take his group of 750 Wallowa Nez Perce and Palouse to Canada to meet with Chief Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa Lakota. A running battle of over 1,000 miles through the Bitterroot Range and Montana Territory ensued, culminating with the defeat of Joseph’s band at the Battle of Bear Paw on October 5th, 1877, just 40 miles south of the Canadian border.
The trail up over Lone Pine Saddle and down to Dug Bar traverses bunchgrass hillsides and, like other Hells Canyon trails, might be lost but for the local bovines, who freely integrate it with their own braiding pathways. There are posts and small cairns that mark the way for hikers. Near Lone Pine Saddle, I spotted four bighorn rams and then several small groups of deer. Arrowleaf balsamroot, bright pink Snake River phlox, and yellow bladderpod were blooming on the slopes.
The traverse from the saddle takes you above the Dug Bar Road and in and out of Big Canyon. I entered the northern part of the Hells Canyon Wilderness at the next saddle, and then descended to the Dug Bar Road. It was a short walk along the road to the Dug Bar Ranch, all shuttered up with no one at home. Then I walked down to the memorial cairn at the site of the 1877 crossing, the river then perhaps not quite as swollen as it was on my visit. It was a peaceful scene, with the hackberry trees just leafing out and a few horses grazing on the hillside above. A mail boat with two people aboard did make a pit stop, I think to refuel as there were no tourists and no one to take a mail delivery.
That evening, I decided to camp out at the trailhead. No one was traveling the Dug Bar Road, and the views stretched south along the Imnaha valley and its series of intersecting ridges.
Imnaha River Trail
This hike, which begins at the Cow Creek Bridge over the Imnaha River about 2 ¾ miles below the Nee-Me-Poo Trailhead, follows an extremely well-constructed trail, actually a rock-walled causeway of sorts, for four miles to Eureka Bar on the Snake. The Imnaha was roaring at full spate only a foot or two below the trail in places and sometimes kicking up four-foot-high pressure waves. The trail undulates but generally keeps low, often along the base of cliffs. Poison ivy is present along the length of the route, and in places blackberries crowd the trail. Much of the canyon is narrow and shaded for much of the day. The rock is 260 million-year-old diorite, about 17 times older than the Columbia River Basalts!
An otter skulked across the path early in the hike, but I saw no other wildlife. Lower down the canyon, there was evidence of mining activity, and I passed the entrance to the Mountain Chief Mine which now acts as a refuge for colonies of bats. Then the brown waters of the Imnaha joined the grayer flow of the Snake, keeping separated until hitting the Imnaha Rapids at Eureka Bar. There were three more prospects above the Snake, the foundation of the Eureka hotel, and the remains of the 13 story smelter. The Imnaha River Trail turns up Eureka Creek and heads up to Cemetery Ridge. This was also a peaceful spot. Soon, the canyon walls are going to reverberate with the roar of jet boats and the exclamations of excited visitors.
The story of Eureka is another of those brief but instructive Western yarns. In 1902, copper prospectors spread the story that the seams also contained gold. Soon, about 2,000 gold-fevered men were camped at Eureka Bar, and the hotel/saloon and building for a stamp mill were constructed, financed by East Coast investors. The Lewiston Southern Mining Company ran a steamer, the Imnaha, up the Snake, using cables attached to iron rings on the riverside cliffs to haul the boat up rapids. The stamp mill was loaded on the Imnaha in November 1903. The steamer began to haul herself over the whitewater at Mountain Sheep Rapid, but snagged her paddle wheel on the cable, stayed afloat long enough for all aboard to jump to safety, and then broke up and went to the bottom. With no stamp mill and no discernable presence of gold, everyone left. When the first officially designated mailman arrived, he found a ghost town.
Dug Bar Road
This drive merits a few photos of its own. The road was, in fact, quite negotiable but wound up and down with some almost vertical drop offs. It would be slippery after a heavy rain or snow melt and dusty in the summer, but there was no traffic on it at all, so I just ambled along at about 15 mph enjoying the views.
Nee-Me-Poo Trail
This was my first stop since I was determined to hike to Dug Bar and not drive all the way. It’s a National Historic Trail that ends at a section of the Nez Perce National Historic Park. In May 1877, Chief Joseph (Hinmatóowyalahtq’it) of the Wallowa band of the Nez Perce (Nimíipuu), was given an ultimatum by Army General Oliver O. Howard. The band had not ratified an 1863 treaty that put other groups of Nez Perce onto reservations and the Wallowa band remained in their ancestral home, the broad grassy expanses of the Wallowa valley which held the graves of their ancestors, but was now much coveted by white settlers for farmland. Chief Joseph was given 30 days to leave for an Idaho reservation or consider himself at war with the U.S. government. Whole villages had to be packed up, and thousands of cattle and horses were driven into Hells Canyon, where they crossed the swift-flowing spring current of the Snake River at Dug Bar. Hundreds of livestock were lost, but all the people crossed safely. The band were continuing to the Lapwai Reservation, but after some young members killed four settlers in retaliation for the murder of a Nez Perce elder, Joseph decided to take his group of 750 Wallowa Nez Perce and Palouse to Canada to meet with Chief Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa Lakota. A running battle of over 1,000 miles through the Bitterroot Range and Montana Territory ensued, culminating with the defeat of Joseph’s band at the Battle of Bear Paw on October 5th, 1877, just 40 miles south of the Canadian border.
The trail up over Lone Pine Saddle and down to Dug Bar traverses bunchgrass hillsides and, like other Hells Canyon trails, might be lost but for the local bovines, who freely integrate it with their own braiding pathways. There are posts and small cairns that mark the way for hikers. Near Lone Pine Saddle, I spotted four bighorn rams and then several small groups of deer. Arrowleaf balsamroot, bright pink Snake River phlox, and yellow bladderpod were blooming on the slopes.
The traverse from the saddle takes you above the Dug Bar Road and in and out of Big Canyon. I entered the northern part of the Hells Canyon Wilderness at the next saddle, and then descended to the Dug Bar Road. It was a short walk along the road to the Dug Bar Ranch, all shuttered up with no one at home. Then I walked down to the memorial cairn at the site of the 1877 crossing, the river then perhaps not quite as swollen as it was on my visit. It was a peaceful scene, with the hackberry trees just leafing out and a few horses grazing on the hillside above. A mail boat with two people aboard did make a pit stop, I think to refuel as there were no tourists and no one to take a mail delivery.
That evening, I decided to camp out at the trailhead. No one was traveling the Dug Bar Road, and the views stretched south along the Imnaha valley and its series of intersecting ridges.
Imnaha River Trail
This hike, which begins at the Cow Creek Bridge over the Imnaha River about 2 ¾ miles below the Nee-Me-Poo Trailhead, follows an extremely well-constructed trail, actually a rock-walled causeway of sorts, for four miles to Eureka Bar on the Snake. The Imnaha was roaring at full spate only a foot or two below the trail in places and sometimes kicking up four-foot-high pressure waves. The trail undulates but generally keeps low, often along the base of cliffs. Poison ivy is present along the length of the route, and in places blackberries crowd the trail. Much of the canyon is narrow and shaded for much of the day. The rock is 260 million-year-old diorite, about 17 times older than the Columbia River Basalts!
An otter skulked across the path early in the hike, but I saw no other wildlife. Lower down the canyon, there was evidence of mining activity, and I passed the entrance to the Mountain Chief Mine which now acts as a refuge for colonies of bats. Then the brown waters of the Imnaha joined the grayer flow of the Snake, keeping separated until hitting the Imnaha Rapids at Eureka Bar. There were three more prospects above the Snake, the foundation of the Eureka hotel, and the remains of the 13 story smelter. The Imnaha River Trail turns up Eureka Creek and heads up to Cemetery Ridge. This was also a peaceful spot. Soon, the canyon walls are going to reverberate with the roar of jet boats and the exclamations of excited visitors.
The story of Eureka is another of those brief but instructive Western yarns. In 1902, copper prospectors spread the story that the seams also contained gold. Soon, about 2,000 gold-fevered men were camped at Eureka Bar, and the hotel/saloon and building for a stamp mill were constructed, financed by East Coast investors. The Lewiston Southern Mining Company ran a steamer, the Imnaha, up the Snake, using cables attached to iron rings on the riverside cliffs to haul the boat up rapids. The stamp mill was loaded on the Imnaha in November 1903. The steamer began to haul herself over the whitewater at Mountain Sheep Rapid, but snagged her paddle wheel on the cable, stayed afloat long enough for all aboard to jump to safety, and then broke up and went to the bottom. With no stamp mill and no discernable presence of gold, everyone left. When the first officially designated mailman arrived, he found a ghost town.