Wandering deep into the back country, one of the Owyhee’s “main” roads had beckoned to us for some time. Having previously explored here and there, and rolled Ralph out along various 20-, 30-, and 40-mile excursions, we were eager and ready for a big stretch.

The “Owyhee Back Country Byway” is called various things on various maps and segments [see my previous post about map accuracy and variability].  Here are some of the road names (from one source) that we followed, more-or-less in sequence (but the middle four names swap back and forth occasionally):

• (from Jordan Valley) Yturri Blvd
• Pleasant Valley Road
• Owyhee Uplands Back Country Byway
• Juniper Mountain Loop Road
• Juniper Mountain Road
• Mud Flat Road

You can’t see these road names on this map-picture, but this will give you an idea of the orientation of the route.

Following all of these road  segments (and passing by a host of other spurs and side-tracks) led us on a 107-mile oddysey, about 75 of it a dirt trek, across some of the loneliest country in the western US. To be honest, it’s not that challenging to follow the route, for this is one of the primary access roads to the region – – but it does take an intimate familiarity with the map and roads, and constant orientation to true position. The route we followed was generally as follows. Waypoints 2-5 were mostly dirt roads.

1. Jordan Valley
2. North Fork Owyhee
3. Cliffs
4. Mud Flat
5. Grandview
6. Murphy
7. Marsing
8. Jordan Valley

Occasional mileage signs are a big help too. It’s worth mentioning that attempting this without a GPS (used to establish known position) would be very challenging, and lack of a GPS would almost guarantee some false side-trips. NOTE we do NOT rely on the GPS for trip directions, ever. It’s right sometimes, and wrong sometimes. But it’s always accurate on position, so we use that information to plot ourselves onto the map. We then consult two, three, or even four maps to make sure we’re on the road we want to be on.

We were warned that there was some ranching transport activity that day, and in fact we did drive past a few cattle trucks. These encounters were at first pretty intimidating – – the trucks seemed to be using the entire road, and the dust reduced visibility to absolute zero. But these were brief episodes, and we decided early on simply to pull over to the side of the road. The truckers really appreciated this, since it gave them much more margin to pass us. And in the end, we were more entertained than bothered, finding ourselves temporarily parked on a road with visibility measured in inches. Truth is, even a light breeze clears the dust in a minute or two.

The road works southward and over onto the Idaho side, winding through hills and forests on its way to the North Fork of the Owyhee, where it descends a sharp canyon wall and then climbs up the far side.

North Fork River and Campground – – what a gorgeous spot. The camp is a tidy little flat space (middle-right in the picture). It’s right next to the river (lower center), and sheltered by the canyon walls (far side and near side where I took the photo). Pretty easy to get to and into, restrooms, LOTS of places to hike or just chill out. We’d love to stay there some time (out of hunting season of course). But that day, we were in Ralph and not Howie, so we just took a good look around and kept on going.

At the North Fork camp, we found this great placard, with the best, most concise information we’ve yet seen on the Plateau. Take a few minutes to read some of the background on this wonderful place.

After the North Fork crossing, the road climbs back up on top of the plateau, and weaves between broad ranges of mountain peaks that rise only a few thousand feet above the already-high plateau.

We were glad to see the Byway sign, but a bit puzzled by the “no quad” icon. Oregon and Idaho people ride their quads everywhere, and it’s hardly believable that they’d be prohibited on this fine dirt road. Maybe there’s just too much road-kill by the cattle trucks? We could only guess.

Once the land flattens a bit, cattle ranching becomes ubiquitous once again. Wide rolling swaths, of grassy juniper-pine scattered forest, go on for tens of miles.

Photographically, this section of the road is unremarkable, and I have few photos to show for 30 miles or so of travel. But what’s hard to show in tiny photo frames is the overpowering sense of vastness, a huge lonely land with few or no people, structures, fences or buildings. It’s really easy to imagine (and be in awe of) the pioneers who crossed this territory, or settled in it and made there lives here.

Talk about contrasts. Just when we thought all anyone cared about was cattle, we learned some Audubon types had “planted” a couple of hundred bird-houses some 25 years ago. They’re still standing. Apparently it really rejuvenated the local songbirds.

Eventually, the road descends, widens, and smooths out. At around mile 87, the road emerges between low hills to reveal the massive extent of the Snake River Valley in the hazy distance.

We had previously decided not to retrace our steps, but instead to return by asphalt, more for time-convenience than anything else. Our day’s plan was to spend most of our time on the Byway, and then zip home on a different 100 miles of highway. The whole loop eventually turned into just around 240 miles total.

That plan worked out pretty well. In fact, the return highways (ID78 and US95) were pretty pleasant in spots, and we definitely got to see a different part of the world: the far western outskirts of the much more densely populated Boise area.

After reaching Grandview and turning north on 78, we drove past a mix of terrain. In some places, there were sweeping vistas of well-irrigated farmlands (of course, with the Snake to draw water from, the desert could be made to bloom).

Occasionally, we’d see a huge, kind of pretentious house, completely uncharacteristic of the rustic nature of the area. California money? We don’t know, just guessing.

Elsewhere, we’d pull away from farms and fields, and find the desert grass and sagebrush hills once again dominating the landscape.

This was the kind of terrain that prevailed after we passed Marsing, joined US95, and turned back southward to Jordan Valley, Antelope Reservoir, and camp.

The weather was starting to sour a bit, with a big storm system forecast to come through. Being out on a dusty desert road turned to a muddy desert road did not seem prudent, so we spent our last night near Jordan Valley, and left the next day to follow the sun.

Next stop: Idaho’s remarkable Craters of the Moon National Monument.