I have long ignored the dirt road leading off up and west from Alvord Hot Springs, heading up the steep, steep eastern ascent of Steens Mountain. I assumed it went nowhere; most of the little spurs don’t around there. On crowded days in the Alvord, this is where people camp (by “crowded” I mean: when there are upwards of five people within ten miles). I have a thing for Pike Creek, anyway, which is another couple of miles north.

But this time Mr. Pencil and I turned onto the road that leads up the Indian Creek drainage. And, as it turns out, the only “crowded” weekend in the Steens is Memorial Day weekend anyway. So, empty.

And, lo, the road went and went and went. We forded Indian Creek and continued. I got out and spotted while David steered the ‘bru over potential high-center obstacles. He straddled ruts and small boulders.

Ultimately, we realized it was just as fast to walk, so we hiked a while up and up along the track. We discovered an extraordinarily eerie abandoned cabin (“I think I found Jacob’s cabin,” said David–it was that kind of decrepitude, and then some) and the remnants of a mine. The views, it’s probably extraneous to mention, were exceptional.

We could hear sage grouse carrying on in the near distance, and things were in bloom: lupine, paintbrush, fresh sage leaves.