Owyhee Canyon – "Rustler's Roost"
Yesterday accompanied by leader of the nascent Friends of the Owyhee and Owyhee history buff Tim Davis, I visited “Rustlers’ Roost” down in the canyon, about two miles downstream from the mouth of Bogus creek. “Visit” is perhaps too prosaic a description for an hour and a half drive over roads that were not simply unpaved but were either cut through nature’s rough-hewn basalt cobbles or were inches deep in the fine volcanic tuff powder common to the Great Basin. After a bit of rain this tuff becomes a lubricious pudding that will defeat the most powerful 4WD rig and turn the nobbiest of tires into a set of slicks Big Daddy Don Garlits would have died for. And once we got off these, the “maintained” roads, the route narrowed and tilted on steep hillsides causing one to lean reactively to the uphill side. But after a short distance we came to a small slide blocking the road. That was almost a relief, since now there was no choice (turning back was not an option) but to walk.
Walking a mile and three quarters in 100º heat hardly counts as a blessing, however. We could see the river below and only wonder why the road hadn’t been built down there. An hour or so later we would retrace our path. In the course of a two and a half hour walk to our destination and back I drank a liter of water per hour. Oh, did I mention that the previous day I had pinched a nerve that sent pains stabbing through the left buttock? (Thankfully that is now gone.)
Looking Up River Toward Rustler's Roost from Bogus Creek
And what was our destination? Well, it is known variously as “the Navarro Place” or “Rustler’s Roost.” Originally it had been a “ranch.” There are differing thoughts on who built it, and some confuse it with nearby Bogus Creek ranch. (See “Moonshine and Long Ropes” in the sidebar.) But by about 1900 it belonged to José Navarro, a Basque settler who raised sheep. Later it was abandoned, and during the pre-WWII period its remoteness and remaining buildings and corrals made it an excellent hideout for rustlers to take their stolen livestock and change the brands with a running iron. For those who were stealing stock to start a herd, during low water they could easily ford the river and drive the animals on home.
Ranch House Ruins
When we reached the Navarro place, we found a pleasant grassy spot to eat our lunch and rest in the shade of tall cottonwoods of the sort that mark old home sites throughout the Owyhee. There was a large, flowing spring with cattails and tall grass. As we approached, we came first to a rusted horse-drawn mowing machine, an indication of a hay field that was no longer apparent. There was small corral constructed of lava rock with a sun-bleached animal skull atop the wall. Opposite that were collapsed remains of the chiseled stone walls of the ranch house built with blocks cut from volcanic tuff quarried nearby. Aside from the cottonwoods, which had probably been planted first when the house was built, there were no trees for lumber. A bit further on were the ruins of an old root cellar.
Root Cellar
After lunch, we pushed our way through the cattails and reeds, treading carefully not to sink through the thick, grassy mat into flowing spring water below and walked perhaps 200 yards to a pair of adjoining stone corrals that once held stolen cows. Curiously, atop one wall was the rusted blade of a two-man crosscut saw. Since there were no stumps suggesting any trees had been cut with it, Tim surmised that it may have been used to cut the tuff, a very soft stone.
Rock Corrals
The return to the car suggested the ground was unstable; a trail that had been uphill going out to the Navarro place had turned uphill going back. Though we were anxious to reach Jordan Valley before the Rock House coffee shop closed (excellent ice cream), we made a short detour to get a look at the Bogus Creek ranch. Ignoring–for what I thought were sensible reasons–the sign that proclaimed “NO HUNTING No Trespassing” (we weren’t hunting, and the place looked deserted) we drove through the gate toward a small wood building that looked more like a line shack than a ranch house. However, spying solar panels and a sign in the window that read “Due to The High Cost of Ammo, No Warning Will be Given.” We wheeled about and made it back to town in time for ice cream (wild huckleberry) and to check e-mail before heading back to Vale.
“Rustler’s Roost” and, indeed, Bogus Creek ranch house, are examples of the many remnants of early settlement. As hiking or floating destinations they afford and opportunity not only to enjoy the beauty of the place but an appreciation of what early settlers went through to supply meat to the miners of Silver City and elsewhere. I would recommend a cooler time of the year but one still that is dry.
Note to those familiar with Jordan Valley: the storied Basque Inn has closed and been replaced by the Flatiron Steak House in the same building. I have yet to try it.