I’ve always enjoyed hiking and backpacking because it is the only way to see some of the most spectacular scenery in Eastern Oregon.

Maybe “enjoyed” isn’t the best word.

I love dipping my toes into a cool mountain lake and climbing to a viewpoint that reveals the layers of peeks and valleys across the Eagle Cap Wilderness.

It’s getting there that isn’t always pleasant.

I gifted my husband, Jayson, a new copy of “100 Hikes in Eastern Oregon,” an essential hiking guide by William L. Sullivan. We have a dogeared (and signed) copy of the book that was published in 2001, and I figured the new version would have updates to trail descriptions.

Jayson loves reading and hiking, so he immediately started on the book.

I should have known a hike was imminent.

He suggested Maxwell Lake, one of the few lakes in the Eagle Cap that can be accessed by a day hike. Most other lakes are so deep in the wilderness that only an overnight or multi-day trip is feasible.

The trail is 4 miles one way. The first part of Sullivan’s description sounds quite pleasant, with well-graded switchbacks that slowly gain elevation up the mountain.

It was the last mile that had me worried: “Then the path suddenly steepens, scrambles straight up a dusty, rocky slope 0.8 mile to a pass, and ambles 0.2 mile down to its end beside Maxwell Lake.”

Anticipation can be good and bad — this was not the good type.

The trail’s change was stark and my lungs felt the climb right away. Sullivan says the trail gains 940 feet in .8 of a mile, and my legs definitely began protesting about halfway through the climb.

The false summit didn’t help.

But then I saw the first sparkle of Maxwell Lake and I instantly felt better.

And that is the allure of hiking — the reward is (almost) always worth the work.

Snacks taste better in an alpine setting, and we spent nearly an hour just enjoying the view.

The hike down was easier on the lungs but tough on the legs, and my muscles definitely felt it the next day. (Find Jayson’s full story about the hike at www.bakercityherald.com/outdoors).

But soreness fades and I soon forget the misery of that uphill slog — all I remember is the vast view and the beauty of the wild.

I think I hear the siren call of the wilderness again…