Whispers from the Water
Whispers from the Water
An excerpt from my Blue Mountains Trail Thru-Hike
Riley “Rabbit” Gill
This story begins on the morning of July 18th, 2023. At the bottom of Imnaha Canyon in Eastern Oregon. 26 days and 412 miles into my Blue Mountains Trail Thru-Hike. Follow along my quest to create a story like the ones I read about as a child.
…
…
The birds singing amongst the canyon stirred me to wakefulness in the early morning, it was time to continue on and get up and out of this beautiful abyss. I struggled to keep on my sleeping pad during the night, as the ground had been radiating heat through my sore, aching muscles. I would usually try to stay on the pad for warmth, but this time it was to try to stay cool. This was soon to be the fourth day in a row where I hiked 20+ miles in 95°-100° heat. The miles were taking a toll on my body, I felt strong, but trail-frayed and tired. I knew deep down that this very spot was the most significant place of the entire trail. The energies along the route were building up and descending into the otherworldly, canyon landscape had been the apex of the Journey, and I felt it. It took so much willpower to finally start the descent into the canyon. It was so vast and desolate that I got nauseous just looking down into it from the ridgeline above. It was like looking into Mother Earth herself, full of dangerous mystery and promise. Now that I had spent the night at the bottom of Her womb, it was time to leave. Climbing out of the canyon was the last battle, I may still have 100 miles to go, but I knew this was where the growth was happening. I glanced one more time around camp and at the Hackberry trees that grew next to the ancient firepit that I’m sure had been there long before settlers had arrived. Then I looked to the Imnaha River, it was the most water I had seen since Troy, about three and a half days prior. Little did I know that I would soon be longing for the sight of water.
I took the alternate route out of Cow Creek to save some miles. It was less out of desire for a shorter route and more for necessity to not starve the last day or so. The final segment of the trail was roughly 180 miles, quite a long haul to tackle without a resupply. Even if I hiked 20+ miles a day, it would take about 8-9 days to finish. Needless to say, my pack was heavy, and I was overencumbered.
Cow Creek slowly makes its way up to a small remote “trail” that was undoubtedly the hardest two miles I have ever hiked in my entire life. Milkweed thistle, prickly pear cactus and numerous other spiky atrocities barred my way to the top of Hells Canyon. It became so thick with painful plant life that I was forced to put on my long sleeve clothing and blast through it all, biting into my lip and clenching my whole body. Hot, sweaty, and bloody, I finally made it to the top, completely out of water. The two mile climb out of the canyon was significantly more strenuous than I had planned for, and I had consumed more water than I would have liked. The next water source was 15 miles away and I was BEAT DOWN. I had no choice but to trudge on until I found water.
I was hurting and dehydrated. I had never been so thirsty in my life. I was looking for water at every little chance that I could find, listening for the small trickles at every little ravine, but the desert lands had none to offer. After a few hours of hiking along the ridge, I made it to an old National Forest site called Cow Camp. I saw remnants of old buildings and a hunting tent that was in good condition, but clearly vacant. My map said that there was water four miles down the road, but I had this very ominous feeling that these sources were dry. I was thirsty enough to believe that there may very well be water inside the vacant tent, and that I was also thirsty enough to go ahead and find out for myself. I stood looking down at the camp for quite some time, pondering the decision. The long winding road down to the camp was just long enough to create a conundrum. Do I go down and waste energy and what little water was still in my system to look for water that may not be there? Or continue to the next water source on my map? I decided that it would be fine, the next source was only a little farther and I should continue on the trail. I slowly and somberly started walking past the camp. I made it about five steps after making my decision when I heard a feminine voice call out very clearly, “HEY!”. I stopped and called back a few times, no response. There was a very strange energy in the air, I could feel it all around my body and inside my head, almost like I was in a dream. I felt like I was being called to the vacant campsite. I went down the long road to the old camp and called out again, no response. Nobody in sight. I would initially be a little spooked at this, but something felt different, almost like the feeling right before you fall asleep, and your mind starts wandering around in that ethereal land that we call dreams. I continued on to the camp and the most beautiful, freshwater spring was gushing out of the mountain, ice cold and ready to save me from this arid wasteland. Someone had reinforced it with a pipe and trough. In my current state, it looked like a spring crafted for the gods themselves. The feeling of seeing freshwater after so many miles in the unrelenting heat will never be forgotten. It’s as if the water had its own color, like a thousand iridescent rainbows coming out of the mountain. Drinking the first sips straight from the mountain zapped me like a bolt of electricity, sending life throughout my body. I stayed here for two hours drinking more water than I could hold in my system. I continually called out for a response and never got anything back. I ate some of my food, rolled a cigarette, and lay on my pad to take a nap.
After waking, that unique, magical feeling that I was walking through a dream had gone away. The birds and bees that had so clearly felt like forest spirits before the nap, now felt like ordinary animals again. I no longer felt that strange and beautiful energy that had called me to the spring. It felt as if I had slept for a hundred years. I remembered the voice that called out to me and beckoned me to the shaded grove as well. I called out once more to see if I could get an answer this time…. No response. I packed my gear, filled my water bottles, and started off on the trail once more.
The significance of this experience wasn’t realized until I hiked to the next water source. A fire had burned the next ten miles of trail the previous year and had not been updated on the map. The three water troughs that were supposed to be along this section were just sad husks of metal. The infrastructure that pulled water from the mountain had burned up and no longer had flowing water. I was awe struck. If I had not been called to the spring at Cow Camp, I would not have had fresh water for another 20-25 miles….. I believe there were spirits in the mountain calling me to that small grove, like the nymphs that beckon to weary adventurers who have become lost in the ancient stories. If I skipped over it, like I originally decided to do, I would have been in serious trouble. It was an experience I had never had before in my life, but I owe the utmost gratitude for the spirits of the spring, or whatever it may have been. Mother Earth? Gaia? God?...... I was called out to that day and it may have saved my life……
I shouldered my pack, and continued along the dusty trail.
If you would like to hear more of my tale on the Blue Mountains Trail, check out my blog at www.rileygilladventures.com. You can also follow along on Instagram and YouTube at @rileygilladventures.
