Lucky to Be Here

Story and Photos by Levi Armichardy

With each curve, my excitement grows. I know the road well and can gauge distance by landmarks. From behind the wheel, I frequently scan the rocky cliffs and grassy slopes of Hells Canyon for deer, elk, mountain goats, or anything else interesting. I know it’s dangerous to take my eyes off the road but can’t help myself.

Finally, I round a bend and see the big ridge that marks camp. A few more curves, and then the road straightens out as it skirts the edge of a large flat extending toward the river. At the far end of the flat, I turn off the road onto a rocky dirt spur.

The flat has a long history. First it was used as a wintering ground for indigenous peoples, and then it became a homestead. The owners planted an orchard and garden and sold their products to miners. In the 1950s, it was terraced to build bunkhouses for dam workers. Now the flat is a campground. The bunkhouses are gone but the terraces—roughly fifty feet wide and five hundred feet long—make nice flat camping spots.

Fruit trees stand as testaments to the homesteaders, along with native hackberries. In the years that I’ve explored the ridges and side canyons around the flat, I’ve found other evidence of previous occupants: house foundations, abandoned mining equipment (and one abandoned tunnel), and old trails. I count the flats as I drive by and then turn into the second-to-last flat and drive to the end.

A wall tent stands at the back, and there’s a teepee on the next flat down. Three dogs run out, barking. I park my car, get out, and take a deep breath of the cool fall air.