Recently a group of Friends of the Owyhee ventured to Birch Creek Historic Ranch for a sun-drenched, quiet celebration of Public Lands Day.
The road to Birch Creek is pretty legendary: a high-clearance vehicle is recommended. It’s bumpy, sharp rocks and deep holes abound, and there are at least four streams to cross in even the driest of times. I recall my husband made the trip years ago to join me on my first FOTO trip. Even though the scenery was breathtaking, he remembers the drive as… well, let’s just say it was one of the most challenging he’s driven in his experience!
Thankfully the BLM has made a few improvements recently to some of the slickest parts, but the road remains a hair-raising introduction to the incredible vista surrounding the scenic old ranch valley.
The fall weather remained unseasonably warm for our group; the hours of the day felt endless, lazy and pooling into eddies like the slow river beside us.
This was a chance to unwind, to feel time slow down and hang suspended, like a drop of dew on a strand of late-summer ryegrass. I felt personally transfixed by the peace of the place. I really needed the break from technology and seemed to feel my brain healing every hour I didn’t compulsively check my phone.
We just naturally sank into the rhythm of the canyon’s natural residents. Birds were everywhere; juncos dabbled in the dust for seeds, deer solemnly munched grass nearby in the evenings. We were amused by the heckling screech owls perched at dusk on the massive rock walls of the canyon. Then, we were awestruck by the spectacular show of lights above us: the Dark Night Sky of the Owyhee.
When the stars come out on a moonless night in the Owyhee desert, far away from the city lights, the darkness is profound and the sky transforms into a canvas of the cosmos around us. The absence of light pollution allows for an unobstructed view of the Milky Way, stretching across the celestial dome like a river of stars. It's a sight that transcends time, connecting us to the vastness of the universe, to something so inscrutable and immense that my mind simply stalls out. I throw my head back and gape in wonder, there alone in the dark with the stars.
The dark night skies play a vital role in the delicate balance of the Owyhee Desert's ecosystem. Nocturnal creatures, from owls to bats (and we saw a lot of bats!) rely on the cover of darkness to hunt, forage, and thrive. Artificial light would disrupt this natural rhythm, affecting the behavior and survival of these creatures. By advocating to preserve areas of such dark night skies, we help conserve the intricate web of life that relies on the cover of night.
As urban sprawl continues, so does the encroachment of light pollution into areas of the Owyhee front that used to remain dark. Have you noticed the exceptionally bright lights being used by some of the businesses newer to the area? Some are really bright… too bright. The glow from artificial lights can be seen from miles away, diminishing the clarity of the night sky that once defined the Owyhee desert nights.
So, what can we do to protect the dark night skies of the Owyhee? First of all, we can raise awareness with our friends, neighbors and local businesses about the impact of light pollution by becoming familiar with Dark Sky International at https://darksky.org/ . They have tips to help businesses choose responsible outdoor lighting that points down where we need the light instead of out into the dark sky, polluting our dark spaces.
We can also support organizations like FOTO who are working hard to gather the data to help designate dark sky areas. Our monitor in the Owyhee is downloaded quarterly, adding to the data-set that Dark Sky Oregon is using to establish Oregon’s Outback Dark Sky Preserve, to which we hope to add Malheur County’s phase soon. If you want to help us with gathering data, you can stop in to our new office at 992 W. Idaho in Ontario and pick up a monitor to use yourself when you’re out camping or hunting.
When venturing into the Owyhee with your group or family, consider opting for low-impact lighting at your campsite. Or even better, let the natural darkness wash over you for a while.
Humans are naturally drawn to gaze at the stars. Let’s appreciate our public access to one of the last great dark spaces remaining in the lower 48 states.