JOSEPH, Ore. — Snowy summits encircle me and my son at our campsite deep in the Eagle Cap Wilderness. On the side of one peak, a sheer granite wall glows like a giant's lantern from fiery light it has captured from the retreating sun.
"What an amazing sight," says Tristan, my 15-year-old son sitting on a boulder near our tent.
Dusk has arrived. This day in late June is nearly over. But not for the brook trout, which have just begun leaping out of the alpine lake where we're camped. Nor for the mule deer. One suddenly appears on the other side of our tent, watching us as she grazes.
The only sounds are from me tripping over our gear as I run to get my fly rod before the feeding frenzy out on the lake is over.
On the dusty nine-mile trail leading back to civilization, there is but one set of human tracks other than ours — those of a fellow backpacker who was coming out of the wilderness as we were entering it.
Here at our campsite at 7,200 feet, it feels like my son and I have this alpine paradise all to ourselves.
One night, I was awakened by a noise outside our tent. When I aimed my flashlight into the darkness, several pairs of glowing eyes stared back from outside. We were surrounded by mule deer.
Occupying about 360,000 acres of this state's remote northeastern corner, not far from Idaho, Eagle Cap is the largest wilderness area in Oregon.
The Wallowa Mountains, the home of Eagle Cap, are known as "the Switzerland of America." There's even a mountain here called the Matterhorn. But it's not just the tight clusters of cloud-touching granite peaks that make this seem like Europe's Alps. It's also the green meadows and pastures that grace the Wallowas' outer flanks.
I have come here with my son for two reasons. The first is my love of backpacking. The second, and more important, is to introduce my son to backpacking — hoping that it might someday become his passion as well.
My son is not the outdoorsy type. He prefers more sedentary pursuits, among them listening to classical music.
As we dined on rice soup, granola bars, trail mix, fruit juice and bagels, the eastern Oregon mosquitoes dined on us.
I was worried that Tristan would demand that we abort our trip — just march the nine miles back to the car.
But he didn't.
I wondered why. I got my answer as I spotted Tristan admiring the surrounding peaks — Matterhorn, Eagle Cap, Sacajawea and Sentinel.
"It's so majestic here. It makes me think of Beethoven's music, like the Pastoral Symphony," he says.
Tristan was right. There is music here. As my son discovered, it flows without bidding through your mind as you admire the awesome beauty of this alpine landscape.
Oregon is an enormous state — the ninth largest. Its 98,386 square miles are sparsely populated. They also contain some of the nation's most spectacular scenic wonders, such as the rugged Oregon coast, Crater Lake, Hell's Canyon and the Wallowa Mountains.
Extending 60 miles by 30 miles across three Oregon counties, the Wallowas were sculpted by nine major glaciers during the Ice Age. The glaciers left deep glacial troughs, cirques, sawtooth ridges and 17 peaks over 9,000 feet. The tallest is 9,838-foot Sacajawea Peak.
The Wallowas have an abundance of wildlife, including elk, bighorn sheep, mule deer, black bear, mountain goats and cougars.
There's also a wide diversity of vegetation. Areas surrounding the foot of the mountains are semiarid, with sagebrush, bunchgrass and scattered pines. The mountains' slopes are timbered with ponderosa pine, lodgepole pine, Douglas fir, spruce, tamarack, subalpine fir and whitebark pine. Above timberline are alpine tundra and bare granite.
Attracting backpackers are not just the high peaks but also Eagle Cap's 50 or so alpine lakes, nearly all with trout.
This Oregon wilderness has 47 trailheads and nearly 500 miles of trails. Snow piles up so high in the upper elevations that many of Eagle Cap's passes are not open until July.
You don't have to be a backpacker or climber to enjoy Eagle Cap. It's also a haven for day-hikers, horseback riders and people who've heard about the view you get by taking the tramway ride up 8,241-foot Mount Howard.
Attracting about 32,000 visitors a year, Eagle Cap can get crowded during summer. Tristan and I beat the masses by coming in the last week of June. Parts of some trails were still snowed in. But at least we had our solitude.
Eagle Cap was originally set aside as a primitive area in 1930. It became part of the National Wilderness Preservation System 34 years later and is managed by the U.S. Forest Service.
The Wallowas' beauty was recognized far before white settlers arrived here in the 1800s. For thousands of years, this was home for a band of the Nez Perce Indians, whose lands stretched from eastern Oregon into Idaho and Washington state.
Because of his heroic battles against the U.S. Army, Chief Joseph, leader of the Wallowa band of the Nez Perce, became something of a cult figure. The town of Joseph, gateway to Eagle Cap, was named after him, as one of the Wallowas' highest peaks.
Somehow, you get the sense that Chief Joseph's spirit is roaming in these mountains. It's hard to believe that a man who loved this land so much could do otherwise.
Tristan and I spent three glorious days in Eagle Cap, hiking a total of 22 miles. During our time there, my son changed. He had come to realize why wilderness areas are so precious. And he now knew the incomparable joys that come from backpacking into an unspoiled area like this.
On our last day, we hiked five hours back to the trailhead at Wallowa Lake. I reached the car first. As Tristan came out of the wilderness, he was covered in trail dust and wearing a big grin. We gave each other high fives and a buddy hug.
"You were great!" I told him. "Wanna do this again sometime?"
"Sure," he said. "These mountains are cool."
I like to think that Chief Joseph was watching us, and that he smiled to see that my son had fallen under the spell of his beloved Wallowas.