Sleeping - at an elevation of 8,000 feet - below the summit of Merritt Mountain was the most pleasant night of sleep we've had in a long time, even nicer than the previous night, perched on the canyon edge, overlooking the South Fork Owyhee River.
And, like the previous night, I'd set my alarm for a time of day no one should be awake, ensuring that - at the very least - I'd capture the Earth's shadow as the sun climbed into the sky behind us.
It was fabulous to watch the Belt of Venus fade across the horizon, the sun's rays finally kissing the snow-capped tips of Porter Peak.
Our high mountain meadow stayed shady as the sun illuminated the peaks around us.
Unlike the previous morning - where I'd headed back to bed for a couple hours - we knew we needed to get an earlier start in order to take advantage of cooler morning temperatures, so after taking a few photos, I let @mrs.turbodb know that she had only a couple more minutes before she needed to get up and through her morning routine.. With the flying camera a little more than a mile away and a thousand feet in the air, I proceeded to fly one of the smoothest, most perfect routes I've ever flown; I was thrilled!
Thrilled, until I looked down to stop the video, only to find that it wasn't recording! 
By then though, the light wasn't right for another flight, so a quick family whistle and we set about our morning tasks.
Thanks camp, you were amazing!
Our first order of business was getting back down the mountain so we could explore our way to the place I'd thought we were going to camp the previous night near Big Table / Timber Gulch. Well, that was the first order of business until my copilot pointed out a road I'd mapped up to the Rizzi Ranch. As always, I have a hard time passing anything up, so while there wasn't any real reason to wander further along McDonald Creek than we had the previous day, we probably weren't going to be back any time soon, so there was no better time than the present!
Coming down off Merritt Mountain, fields of White Mule's Ears covered the hillside.
A few hybrid White Mule's Ear (left), were intermingled with the standard variety (center). A bit of desert parsley(?) (right) was scattered about as well.
It was definitely still spring up here. Brilliant lupine grew up around the road.
We were 30 minutes into our first detour of the morning when a Red-tailed Hawk - carrying a rodent of some sort - soared by overhead and came to rest on the edge of a large nest. There, picking apart it's catch, baby birdlets gobbled greedily as fast as the food was presented.
Even during breakfast, a close eye was kept on the unusual company below.
Still only halfway to the Rizzi Ranch, the usual tug-of-war between leisurely exploration and the knowledge that there's only so much time in the day began to kick in. Luckily, though the roads were not heavily traveled, they were reasonably smooth, and we made good time when we weren't stopped to poke around some interesting artifact we found along the way.
Well, hello there, isn't your profile looking nice today?
We weren't expecting this at all.
As I opened the door to this barn, I startled a marmot napping inside, and it nearly startled me into a new pair of underwear.
New shoes.
We found Jake - a gopher snake - crossing the road near the barn, likely in search of tasty mini marmot.
A little before 9:00am - so a good while after we'd departed camp, but about the same time we'd gotten underway on previous mornings - we rolled into the Rizzi. Little more than a barn, a few corrals, and a bit of infrequently-used machinery, it seemed less like a ranch and more like a shop than we'd been expecting. Still, as with any of these places, it was fun to get out and poke around, so that's exactly what we did!
Green and gold of an old John Deere.
Rizzi redidents.
Iris (left) | Swallowtail (right).
From Rizzi Ranch back to the main road we'd been using as our west-to-east corridor, I resisted the urge to stop, assuring myself that if it'd been worth stopping for, we'd stopped on the way out. I'm not sure I believed that to be true, but it meant only a couple quick pauses - one to watch the Red-tailed Hawk drop a half-eaten prairie dog in the road, and the other to move Jake (the snake) out of the road, again - before turning east.
I'd been looking forward to the Big Table / Timber Gulch road, since - on satellite - there seemed to be a couple of forks, each working themselves to overlooks of the Bruneau River. I'd hoped that we could camp at one of them, though it wouldn't take long to realized that our decision to camp under the summit of Merritt Moutain was a much better choice. That's because - as we navigated the barely-there road toward Big Table - the first fork, from which all other forks branched - was nowhere to be found! Taking a look at the map, it seemed that there might be an alternate route a little further along, but it too had been lost to time, no intersection presenting itself as we continued to follow the Big Table road to the north.
We weren't where we wanted to be, but we had a nice view of Merritt Mountain!
The end of the road; the tracks simply fading into the green grass at the top of the last rise.
Bitter root (Lewisia rediviva).
Though what we found would most definitely have been a nice camp site, I was determined to search a little longer. Luckily, @mrs.turbodb had been scouring her maps for an alternate route, suggesting that we might be able to find one if we headed just a little further up the main road. So, back out we went, full-adventure-mode engaged.
Sure enough, we did find another access point! Hopeful, our enthusiasm got the better of us and we completely missed the turn that would take us where I'd planned to go. Instead, we headed out yet another fork of Big Table, ultimately finding ourselves at another overlook with a similar view.
Along the way, we ran into Harold.
Harold was a little grumpy. "Picked up, again," he muttered.
Owyhee spring.
It was only as we were on our way back - lamenting the fact that the roads I'd mapped no longer existed - that we noticed a faint trail leading off into the unknown. Glancing over at my companion and a bit deflated, I admitted that while I'd have liked to go look, we really needed to get on our way to give ourselves any chance of seeing everything we'd planned.
And so, we pressed on toward Rowland.
Wild rose above the Bruneau River gorge.
Rowland was located just through this igneous gate.
It was during the 1880s that the Rowland area attracted enough ranchers to be called a ranching community. Although there were several attempts at mining, nothing of any consequence ever developed and the community returned to be strictly a ranching area.
A school was opened in 1900, with one family contributing nine children to the student body and until the early 1940s, Rowland offered locals and travelers a post office, a store - the main supplier of groceries, clothing, and farm supplies - and a saloon. Most of this was owned by one man - a John Scott - but when he died in 1930, his wife sold his holdings.
The largest mining operation - the Bruneau Gold Mine - was discovered and began production in 1930. Prospectors exploited fissure veins in the host rock - a limestone unit - from which ore containing gold, silver, and copper was produced. The mining operation involved the development of at least two adits to access these veins, and a mill was constructed to process the ore. Production continued until about 1941, after which the mining operations ceased.
Ruins of the old Bruneau Gold Mine Mill.
Above the main road, the only structure remaining from the mine is a small ore bin.
With the closure of the Bruneau Mine, Rowland again became solely a ranching community. Many small ranches around Rowland were purchased and consolidated into one large property. The post office closed in November of 1942.
With our bellies reminding us it was nearly noon, we continued through the lush flatlands that were once home to the ranching residents of the area toward two of the more notable historic ranches. Both owned by the Scott's, they seemed to be the only structures left in the area - perhaps a result of the mid-century consolidation. The older of the two would be the perfect spot for lunch!
The Old Scott Place, now a marmot mansion.
"Can you imagine growing up in a place like this?" @mrs.turbodb asked, as we munched on our sandwiches and cereal.
Though we'd eaten lunch in the shade, temps were already climbing into the high 80s °F, so we didn't linger long after swallowing our last bites. Pushing the A/C to high, we continued north - downstream - to the more recent Scott residence, a place I expected to find inhabited. A much larger complex, to my surprise, it was not!
The largest building on the property, we initially thought the Scott barn was a bunkhouse.
It was amazingly cool inside the old wooden structure.
I thought the hinges on the barn doors were especially cool.
We don't know why the Scott's left, but when they did, it still seemed to be "home." An old wreath, coat hangers, and a child's math workbook decorated one of the homes.
While the road continued past the Scott Place, it is slowly being reclaimed by willows - fed by the Bruneau River - and rockslides. Still, we pushed on as far as we could in the Tacoma - the pin stripe paint job getting a significant refresh - in hopes of reaching an intriguing point I'd marked on my map. Alas, eventually the fingernails-on-a-chalkboard sound - as large, dried branches rubbed against the outside of the truck - were even too much for me to bear, forcing us to cover the last mile on foot.
Covering ourselves in sunscreen, we set off along the old road, now only a cow trail in the widest of places.
Rock House.
Tightly sealed.
The rock house was a very cool find. While the inside was overrun by rodents, the overall construction seemed solid - old wavy glass, still unbroken, glazed into the windows and doors - and recent work to the roof (now metal) will help to preserve it for many years to come. If you find this place, please be respectful, leaving it intact, to be enjoyed into the future.
Retracing our steps, we were drenched in sweat after our short hike through the scorching terrain. We'd considered leaving the Tacoma idling - and A/C on - while we were gone, but ultimately angled the cab away from the sun in order to keep it as cool as possible without introducing additional risk of fire while we were not in the area. Still, the cab was hot - and would take nearly half an hour to cool down - as we worked our way back to Rowland, and then up and over the Buck Creek Mountains, toward our final destination.
To our southeast, the Jarbidge Mountains - still capped in snow - looked pleasantly cool.
Under the clouds and into the green.
When a road goes on forever.
That final destination - one I've wanted to visit for a few years - was the ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ Crossing of the Bruneau River. As had been the case with the South Fork of the Owyhee a couple days earlier, I knew there was no way we could actually ford the Bruneau, but I still wanted to see if we could get down to the crossing. Even this wasn't a guarantee; there aren't many roads that drop down from the Owyhee Plateau and into the canyons for a reason - they are hard to maintain and often treacherous to travel!
Still, when we've made it - to Indian Hot Springs, and to some old homesteads - the reward has always been worth it, so we hoped for another amazing experience here!
Dropping off of the rim, the first bit the of the descent was a big bumpy but gradual.
Can you see the "road?" It's there, but just barely.
While the first third of the route was unremarkable - but for the views - the remainder was anything but. Extremely narrow, it was clear that this route was more of an ATV trail than one meant for street-legal vehicles, making us glad for the narrow track width of our 25-year old Tacoma.
Working our way around a few 500lbs boulders meant getting uncomfortably close to the "there's no road there" side of the scree.
In the end - obviously, since the story exists - we made it to the bottom, our increased pulse helping to burn a few extra calories, but otherwise unscathed. There, I'd expected to check out the impassable crossing and then head back the way we'd come, but as I sent the flying camera into the air, I spotted some structures just over a small rise.
They were - we'd discover - remnants of an old homestead, then at one time - perhaps even now - a part of the Diamond A ranch or visited by the Diamond A crew. Whatever the case, tall grass grew up everywhere, this place rarely visited in this remote corner of Owyhee.
A home in paradise. At least for the few weeks that it's green. 
Storage barn with a metal door through the window of an old stock barn.
Looks like the good folks from the Diamond A were here as early as 1924!
Diamond A hands weren't the only ones to leave their mark. The folks from the Triangle R (the Rizzi's) were here too!
After poking around for a bit - there were several structures, including an old dugout to explore - it was nearly 4:00pm when we pushed our way through the tall grass to the Tacoma. We had a long, nail-biting climb ahead of us before racing back through the Buck Creek Mountains and north along Rowland Road to the highway, and eventually home.
This would have been a nice place to camp for the evening, had the temperature been 25°F cooler.
Wanting to push our way through the Boise area and into Oregon before finding a spot to camp for the night, we didn't stop much along the way. In fact, a single shot as we wound through the narrows along McDonald Creek, and another when I was sure I'd spotted "missiles," were really the only times I relaxed the pressure on the skinny pedal. After three hot days, we were ready for a shower!
Headed home.
From a distance, this was a very unsettling sight. Looking more closely - and in the context of the area - it made a lot more sense!
The Whole Story
When I finished Hells Canyon the rest of the group went on to the Owyhee.
Seeing your photos makes me wish I didn’t have to be home and could have done the trip with them. Beautiful
I’ll get out there sometime in the near future
Greg
Thanks Greg! This is probably a different region of the Owyhee than they went to, but all of them are great and worth several visits. The best time to visits is during May, before Memorial Day (and at least a few days after any heavy rains). Then, you get green grass and reasonable temperatures. By mid-June, everything is golden and hot!
Beautiful country, as always, thanks for sharing!
You’re welcome John!
I’m going to have to head down into that area…pretty sure I know roughly where you guys went. Very cool hinge on that barn…cool reptile finds as well.
As for me, I’m headed to the Gunflint Trail in the AM…nowhere near the Owyhee!
Cheers!
Enjoy!
Interesting read! That door hinge was something really different. Great photos!!
Yeah, that was a cool find there. A good reminder to always keep an eye out for the little things. I liked finding the Math workbook as well, since it really added a human element to the place.
Another great trip to God's country.
The rock house was built in 1896 by Billy Murphy and associates and established a freight station for the freight wagon serving the Diamond A and the Jarbidge area. This freight route didn't last long and was abandoned in 1900. The property is now owned my the Alzola brothers.
A story associated with Black Rock has to do with the Butch Cassidy gang and the holdup of the Winnemucca, Nevada bank. There has been much speculation as to whether part of the loot was cached at Black Rock, to be recovered at a later time. No report if anyone has ever found the loot.
There is a lot of history in the Owyhee desert of good and bad times. It was a very difficult place to homestead and make a go of it.
Like always, respect the homesteads and buildings taking only photos and memories.
Kenny
Kenny - thank you as always for the additional history and context. I always look forward to posting Owyhee stories, partly because I know that you’ll have some great context to add, and that context always makes a place more meaningful to me.
Hopefully I can do the same for some younger explorer, with some of the places I’ve been at some point.
I think you already inspire others because of your travels. Keep up the travels and posts
Love to see those old buildings still standing with glass in the windows!
It’s definitely special to find a place with the glass still intact! Those are the kinds of places that it’s important to keep a little more under wraps so they can stay special!
You can read even a bit more history of the structure in Kenny’s comment above.