- Oregon County HP: #21
- Difficulty: ⭐️⭐️ ⭐️⭐️ (on a scale of 5)
- Summit Elevation: 8,027 feet
- Mountain Range: Northwest Great Basin Ranges
- Ancestral Lands: Cayuse, Umatilla and Walla Walla, Nüümü (Northern Paiute)
PLANNING DETAILS
Location: This county high point is an unnamed peak in the Oregon Canyon Mountains, approximately 15 miles north of McDermitt, Nevada. Some high pointers call this peak “Oregon Canyon Mountain Peak.” Others refer to it as “Stevenson Benchmark” because the highest peak in this range has a survey marker at the summit with the name Stevenson imprinted on it.
When to Visit: Summer and early fall – due to safety concerns on the drive and hike.
Getting to this high point requires driving 6.7 miles down several unpaved roads toward the BLM boundary for the Oregon Canyonlands Wilderness Study Area. The initial 3.7 miles of the approach is on a well-graved road that’s generally accessible by all vehicles year-round. However, the remaining 3 miles use unimproved dirt roads that may be impassible if the ground is muddy or wet (regardless of the vehicle’s clearance or 4×4 capabilities).
Fees/Permits Required: None. The approach between US Hwy 95 and the BLM boundary takes visitors through cattle grazing areas for a nearby ranch. There have been no reported issues with highpointers transiting this open-range area by vehicle, but visitors should take care to close any gates they pass through.
Getting There: Stevenson Benchmark is most easily accessed from US-95 on the east side of the mountain approximately 11 miles north of the Oregon-Nevada border.
Directions from McDermitt, NV:
- Drive north on US-95 into the state of Oregon and continue north for 11 miles.
- Turn left on Cleto Road and drive west for 3.7 miles. Cleto Road is a well-graded gravel road leading to a local ranch and it is suitable for all vehicles.
- After driving 3.7 miles on Cleto Road, make a slight left onto a dirt road and drive southwest.
- Approximately 1 mile down the dirt road, you will encounter the first of two barbed wire cattle gates on the access route (please make sure to securely close any gates after driving through them). The dirt road beyond this first gate is generally safe for mid-clearance vehicles as long as the road conditions are dry.
- After passing through the first gate, drive 1.6 miles further to the second barbed wire gate. Park at this second gate if you felt uncomfortable driving down the preceding dirt road. The conditions only get rougher beyond this point and there will be nowhere to safely turn around for the next 0.5 mile.
- If you have a high-clearance vehicle, proceed through the second gate, remembering to close it behind you and drive the final 0.5 miles on a rough, rutted dirt road.
- At the end of this dirt road, you will reach an open area with a tall white silo and cattle watering trough on the edge of the Oregon Canyon Wilderness Study Area. This is the closest “parking area” to the summit. (NOTE: If the ground is wet, I strongly recommend that all visitors park at the second gate and make the final 0.5-mile approach on foot. The area around the silo is covered with cow manure, and it would be an absolute nightmare to drive there in muddy conditions, even with 4WD.)
Directions from Burns:
- From downtown Burns, head east on OR-78 for 92 miles.
- When you reach the junction with US Hwy 95, turn right (toward Winnemucca, NV) and drive south for 44 miles.
- Turn right on Cleto Road and follow the directions for the route above for the remaining 6.7 miles to the Oregon Canyon Wilderness Study Area.
Parking: There is no trailhead or dedicated parking area for this high point. The closest parking to the start of the trek is near the white silo at BLM boundary for the Oregon Canyon Wilderness Study Area. However, there is also ample room to park near each of the barbed wire gates if road conditions don’t permit passage this far. The closest services (toilets, trash, water) are located 11 miles south in the town of McDermitt, NV.
Pets Allowed: Yes. However, given the lack of trail through sagebrush and rattlesnake territory, pets are not recommended.
Kid Friendly: No. This highpoint is not advisable for children under 16 years. The ascent of this climb is extremely steep and there is no trail leading to the summit. Consequently, there is a high chance of younger hikers getting lost or injured in a remote and waterless area.
Distance: Approximately 6.8 miles (roundtrip), but distances will vary based on your navigation skills on this cross-country route and your parking location.
The Summit: The summit of this unnamed peak is relatively flat. There is a silver-colored Department of the Interior survey marker at the high point with the word “Stevenson” and the number 1975 imprinted into it. There is also a summit register inside a jar protected by a nearby rock pile. On a clear day, this summit provides excellent views into northern Nevada and the Oregon desert.
TRIP SUMMARY
Date Visited: Oct. 3, 2024
Route Used: Cross-country travel up to the game trail at 7,400′ elevation – roughly 6.8 miles (round-trip)
My visit out to this county high point came at the end of a weeklong visit to Southeast Oregon, where I acquired my 20th Oregon CoHP (Steens Mountain), visited the Alvord Desert, and drove down to Nevada.
Given how remote this peak is – less than a dozen miles from the Oregon-Nevada border – I opted to stay at a hotel in Winnemucca, NV, the prior evening. The early morning drive north in the dark on US Hwy. 95 was busier than I expected because the remote highway is the primary road between Reno, NV, and Boise, ID.
After passing through McDermitt, NV, and crossing the border into Oregon, I couldn’t help but think that this part of the state was 100% more like Nevada or southern Idaho than anything I’d hiked in thus far in Oregon. It was nothing but scrub and sagebrush along the flat desert, with a few brown-looking peaks in the distance.
Eleven miles after the border, I reached the turn off the highway and onto Cleto Road. With the sun rising behind me, I enjoyed a lovely warm pink alpenglow on the mountains I’d soon be tackling.
The first few miles down Cleto Road were well-graded, and the road seemed to be heading toward a large ranch house about 5 miles off the highway. Cows were grazing here and there, but it was a relatively quiet morning. I would be the only visitor to this high point on this early October morning.
After 3 miles of driving on Cleto Road, it was time to turn left onto a narrower dirt road, which was still pretty easy to drive on in my RAV4. Tufts of brush seemed to rub against the underside of my car constantly, but at least my paint job wasn’t getting scratched up like it was during my drives to the trailhead for Boundary Peak, NV, in 2023 and 2024.
About a mile up this narrow dirt road, I reached a barbed wire gate spanning it. It was similar to the many cattle gates I’d opened during my thru-hikes on the Arizona Trail and the Colorado Trail. This was the typical low-cost method for containing the cows, allowing occasional vehicles or horseback riders to pass through.
I was careful to close the gate (lest I be to blame for the cows getting loose or roaming where they shouldn’t be). Then I drove another uneventful mile and a half toward some telephone lines and a second barbed wire gate.
I repeated the task with the second barbed wire gate, opening it, driving through, and then getting out of my car to close it again. However, the dirt road after this second gate was noticeably worse in condition. It definitely wasn’t designed for anything but a high-clearance vehicle. Thank goodness, it was early October, and everything was dry. Otherwise, this dirt road would be a nightmare to drive down.
After a bit more than half a mile, I reached a tall white silo. It sat in an open field covered with about a million cow pies. A large trough filled with water was nearby, explaining why this open field was so popular with the cows. But this silo was as far as I was going to drive.
I was now at the boundary of the Oregon Canyon Mountains Wilderness Study Area. The remainder of this trip was going to be on foot.
As I started my morning hike, the early morning sun cast a golden hue on the landscape up ahead of me. It seemed to highlight the formidable challenges that lay ahead. A prominent triangular peak that towered thousands of feet above me, blocking my true destination from view (Stevenson benchmark sat atop a peak directly behind it)
The first thing I had to worry about, though, was the steep rock wall at the top of the yellow scrub ahead of me. It looked nearly vertical, and I certainly didn’t have the rock-climbing skills to scale several hundred feet of rock wall. My highpointing strengths are in my hiking abilities, not in scaling rocks.
Luckily, I’d read lots of trip reports from prior highpointers who shared that there was a weak spot in the wall just to the right edge of the edifice. I just had to trust that it existed. And I began to head toward the small green area above the creek trickling out of Moonshine Canyon.
As I navigated uphill and cross-country through dry grasses and scrub brush, the rock wall seemed to loom even higher above me. Yet, as I got closer, it was also easier to see the small area where one vertical fin of rock seemed to overlap in front of another one, creating a gap with a steep hill between them. From afar, they’d seemed to be a continuous wall of rock. But now I could see there was a passage.
Of course, the climb was anything but easy. I may not have needed to do any rock climbing here, but I was heading uphill at a 10% grade or more the entire way. And there wasn’t a trail in sight – just lots of uneven ground and brush. This was the perfect place for rattlesnakes to hang out, waiting to bite my ankles, and I felt as if I was on constant alert for their telltale sounds.
Once I made it above the first obstacle (aka “the wall”), more desert scrub stretched uphill toward band after band of rocks. These rocks weren’t dark brown like the ones below me, though. Up here, the rocks seemed to be covered with a vibrant green lichen.
I knew from other visitors’ GPS tracks and posts that I’d needed to generally stick to the right side of these lichen-covered rocks on my route uphill. But I had two options of how to do so: (a) I could skirt to the right of the rocks and hike up a constant, strenuous slope; or (2) I could scramble up each 6-10 foot rock band and then enjoy a semi-flat slope up toward the next one as if I were ascending a giant staircase.
I chose this second (and in my opinion, easier) option as my method of climbing these distinct ramps. Once I reached the top one, I was walking across the plateau just below the prominent triangular peak that I’d been staring at since I left the comfort of my car.
Once again, I was grateful for the details of other highpointers’ trip reports on Peakbagger.com. If left to my own devices, I probably would have climbed up and over this gnarly peak to get to the back side of it. However, the trip reports saved me some effort.
This plateau was at an elevation of 6,600′, and I had to scramble up to 7,400′ elevation, where the trip reports promised that I would intersect with a well-worn game trail that wrapped around the peak’s right side. Just 800 vertical feet to go…
It was super slow going as I began my climb up the ridiculously steep slope. The ground was composed of loose rock, and I had to carefully choose each step to avoid slipping and falling. My trekking poles definitely got a workout during this climb, but at least my worry about rattlesnakes was (mostly) gone.
The trek uphill was another choose-your-own-route adventure, but I kept my eyes focused on the right side of the peak’s cap. I knew I was going to eventually wrap around that side of this mountain, and it made more sense to gradually angle my way toward the game trail instead of going up the absolute steepest part of the slope in a straight line. What’s more, the cap of the mountain was always visible even when other waymarkers below it were not.
Once I got halfway up the prominent peak, I stopped to drink some water and turned back to take in the views behind me. US Hwy 95 was barely visible in the distance. My parking area was somewhere below the steep drop-off on the edge of the terrain. The bands of rock I’d scrambled up before the plateau looked like soft blobs and knobs.
When I finally reached the promised game trail at 7,400′ elevation, it was like a godsend. After hiking cross-country for the past 90 minutes, I was mentally and physically ready to follow an easier route.
It felt as if I was heading downhill once I started walking on the game trail. But I knew this was an optical illusion. I was generally following the same elevation line as the game trail wrapped around to the peak’s right side. But flat hiking never felt so dang easy!
Once I made it to the peak’s northern side, I entered the mouth of Angel Canyon. The loud sound of rushing water called my attention, and I could see a roaring waterfall cascading down a portion of the opposite canyon wall toward Fish Creek.
Taking this game trail was beneficial in so many ways. It was a reprieve from the constant climbing, allowing me to hike at a much faster pace. But the best part was that it kept me in the glorious shade. The peak was now blocking the sun, and I was no longer under its blazing gaze.
This trek along the game trail was where I finally got my first view of the summit I was heading toward. The unnamed summit that held the county high point was just above a saddle in the distance.
As I re-entered the sunshine, it didn’t feel quite as brutal. But that’s probably because the wind began to gust. It was pretty much a constant 10-15 mph cross-wind during the remainder of my hike above the saddle.
My final push to the summit wasn’t terribly difficult. The game trail petered out at the saddle, but there was far less brush and loose rock to deal with during that last 500 vertical feet. Even the uphill slope seemed easier as it rose toward my final destination.
Yet, one final challenge emerged just before the summit. The top of this unnamed peak seemed to be covered in rocks, and there was a 20-foot scramble up a steep band of rocks.
Surely there had to be a trick to getting up this final rock wall. I wasn’t expecting to climb 20 vertical feet of crumbly rock. There had to be a path or route others used to get up. I surveyed the wall as I approached, visually scanning its length from left to right on my way to the high ground. Just then, I intersected with another defined game trail that seemed to parallel the summit.
“Maybe this trail will take me the easy way up,” I mused to myself.
But it didn’t.
Instead, that trail wrapped around the far right side of the peak, taking me 0.2 miles out of my way, only to reveal another steep Class 2 hillside slope. Not much easier than the rock wall, in my opinion. However, I made quick work of the final ascent and was soon standing atop the unnamed peak, the high point for Malheur County.
I found the peak’s survey monument embedded in the rock right near the ledge I’d considered scrambling up. Immediately beside it, sat a rock pile with a jar containing a small summit register, too.
Unlike many of the other survey markers I’ve stumbled across in my highpointing adventures, this monument wasn’t emplaced by the National Geodetic Survey (or the U.S. Coast & Geodetic Survey). This marker was placed by the Department of the Interior!
I hypothesized that it was probably put there by some BLM folks to survey the east boundary of the Wilderness Study Area. Though I still had no clue who (or what) Stevenson was.
After a quick break, I signed my name to the small summit register and it was time to head back down. It had taken me 2.5 hours to get to the top, and I was fairly certain my descent wasn’t going to be much faster.
My prediction was correct. It took me nearly 2 hours to get all the way back down to my car. The most difficult section on my return trip was undoubtedly the sharp slope between the game trail and the plateau. I’d known it was steep when I was picking my way uphill, but the descent from 7,400′ and 6,600′ was a knee-buster, and I had to go meticulously slow to avoid falling.
Once I made it safely back to the white silo where I’d parked, it was miserably hot. It was at least 85 degrees now, with not a lick of shade. It felt like the sun had been baking my head for hours. I couldn’t fathom how anyone did this hike in mid-summer when the temperatures were 15-20 degrees warmer.
Nevertheless, I was pleased with myself for completing this rugged high point. It wasn’t the most physically demanding one. Nor the most technical one. It wasn’t the longest route of my Oregon CoHPs. Or even the sketchiest one.
But this was the one county high point that forced me to rely on my cross-country navigation skills! That achievement was a significant confidence booster overall.
BONUS MATERIAL
Camping Nearby:
- Willow Creek Hotsprings Campground is located on the west side of the Oregon Canyon Mountains, roughly halfway between the Harney CoHP (Steens Mountain) and the Malheur CoHP (Stevenson Benchmark). This BLM-dispersed camping area attracts visitors because it has several hot spring pools nearby. The only other amenity at the camping area is a vault toilet. Cost: Free
Resources:
- Highpointing Stevenson Benchmark (Peakbagger)
- Oregon Canyon Wilderness Study Area (BLM)
- Wilderness Study Area FAQs (BLM)
- Stevenson Benchmark Info (USGS)