lakes – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

July 28 2015 Taking a Break at Waldo Lake

Current Location: Rocky Point, Oregon

Current Temperature: 97 degrees F

I am NOT complaining about the heat. It is warmer than I can remember here in Rocky Point, but at the moment the WunderMap shows temperatures ranging from 106 to 109 in the Grants Pass area. That is NOT “feels like” weather, that is the real temperature. The Rogue Valley of Oregon is even hotter than notoriously hot Redding, California! Go figure.

In addition to being almost ten degrees cooler here in the trees at Rocky Point, the house is even cooler yet. I just returned from taking Mattie for a walk, a very hot walk, and when I walked into the house it felt as if we had air conditioning. So grateful for a well insulated, well built, cool and comfortable home. No air conditioning needed.

Insulation was the last thing on my mind on Tuesday morning when we packed up the MoHo and headed north to spend a bit of time in the mountains. Yes, I know, we live in the mountains, but camping at a lake at more than 5,000 feet elevation surrounded by mountain hemlock is a lot different than hanging out at home.

Our destination was the incredible Waldo Lake, Gem of the Cascades. Waldo isn’t far from where we live, and is just a short 13 miles north of the Highway 58 route that we often travel on the way to Eugene. However, as beautiful as it is, the reputation for heavy mosquito infestations keep us from camping there more often. According to the website, Waldo campgrounds are barely habitable until after mid-August and into September, and then the snow can fly as early as late September.

We found that out the hard way the last time we camped at Waldo, during the latter part of July back in 2010. It was a wonderful, albeit short stay, and both of us still laugh about the heavy clouds of mosquitoes surrounding us as we attempted to enjoy the beautiful lake. I wrote about that visit here.

The most wonderful aspect of Waldo Lake is its protection from gasoline engines. Only electric motors are allowed on this lake. The water is incredibly pure and crystal clear. Because it is a snow fed lake, and is surrounded by rhyolite and pumice, there is nothing to contribute to the growth of algae or murky water. It is wonderful to be near such a large beautiful lake without the sounds of jet skies and motorboats. Obviously, it is a very popular kayaking and sailing lake. There are so many places where fast boats are allowed, I am grateful that there are a few places like this for those of us who like the quieter pursuits.

Waldo Lake view from the amphitheater at North Waldo Campground The beauty of the place is so enticing, we decided that since we needed to travel once again to Eugene, we should go a day early and make an attempt at warding off the mosquitoes long enough to at least enjoy the lake for a little bit. I am not yet at my 90 day mark for healing from my surgery, the magic day when my lifting limit increases from a maximum of 5 pounds to 20 pounds. Mo refused to even think about taking the kayaks until I got the Ok from my surgeon.

I couldn’t imagine being at Waldo without my kayak, but it turned out to be one of the most memorable overnight camps we have ever spent.

Arriving late morning to a quiet campground with many open sites, we were amazed to discover that there was not a single mosquito in sight, nary a one, nowhere. We set up camp, parked in a nice open breezy site to ward off the supposedly ever present little beasts, and opened the doors to fresh mountain bug free air.

A few days before our visit, a cold front slipped through this part of Oregon, and I remember seeing temperatures in the high 30’s on the east side of the Cascades. Maybe the little stinkers decided to go south.

Our afternoon was filled with fresh, cool air, and skies so blue they looked almost electric. I pulled out the no nitrates/ no sulfates, whatever uncured bacon we found at Costco last week, sliced some fat tomatoes and we feasted on luscious sandwiches piled up with our fresh garden lettuce.

We decided that it was time to hike the Shoreline Trail. Not all of it, of course, but as much as we could manage in an afternoon. I knew that the Taylor Burn had decimated much of the land north of the lake, and that we probably wouldn’t make it all the way west to where the trees were still intact.

Still, it was a great hike, in perfect temperatures, with gorgeous views of the lake that would have been otherwise hidden by the deep hemlock forest if not for the burn.

There are many ponds tucked among the rolling slopes above the lake, and the trail is never really too steep or rocky to be enjoyable.

The wildflowers were sparse on the eastern edge, but as we walked west, and the landscape showed a bit more moisture, we saw more and more flowers blooming among the old burned stumps from the fire in 1996 that burned more than 10,000 of forest on the northern edge of the lake. Fireweed and pussytoes were the most prolific flowers, but there were a few others tucked away, and many sedges along the ponds.

Shrubs were dominated by willow and a few mountain ash with bright orange berries, and the regenerating trees were mostly mountain hemlock and red fir or subalpine fir.

It was Mattie’s first real hike, and she managed to keep up with us fairly well. Watching her trot along with those short little legs made me realize that she had to go at least six steps for every one of ours. Here and there, among the snags, we found old ponds and standing water. Good enough for Mattie, although something in the 4 inch deep water scared her back out of it after taking a drink.

In less than 3 miles, we found a side trail leading down toward the shore and enjoyed a beautiful break in the crystal clear cool waters. Mattie is still learning to go into the water, and it was exciting to work with her and get her to actually retrieve a stick in belly deep water.

Fun for us and cooling for her before we began the trek back home. The hike was 5.7 miles, and on the way home, Mattie saw a strip of snag shade across the trail and decided to instantly flop down and rest. That is when I knew that maybe we shouldn’t try to take her on more than a six mile hike on a sunny day in the mountains.

Waldo Lake near the swimming area After we got back to camp and rested a bit, it was time to go back beyond the boat launch to the swimming area. I so love swimming in crystal clear water with a clean sandy bottom. But oh! that water was COLD. I managed to jump in and swim a bit, and then after warming on the nearby rock, I jumped in again and swam part way across the narrow channel to one of the islands.

I was probably in the water a total of ten minutes at the most. Wish I had a photo to prove it, but we didn’t bring the camera along for our swim.

Back again at camp, Mo built a fabulous campfire and I heated up some leftovers I had planned for dinner before pulling out the marshmallows. I have no idea why I do that, I don’t even really like the marshmallows, I just like to roast them.

Finally, as evening progressed, the little no seeum’s found us and we decided to retreat into the motorhome.

The next morning, while it was still early, we walked the opposite direction on the Shoreline Trail toward Islet Campground where we had stayed in 2010. It is only about a mile and a half between campgrounds along the trail. Still, even early in the morning, there wasn’t a single mosquito to bother us and the no see um’s were nowhere to be found either.

A lovely breeze accompanied us as we hiked out on the Islet Peninsula where we tried to hike five years ago and were run off by mosquitoes. I have no idea why there were none on this most magical trip. I have no idea if they will hatch again before the fall frosts.

When we turned around to walk back through Islet Campground, we checked out our previous campsite, and then saw two little dogs that looked an awful lot like Mattie. Walking by, the two women who belonged to the dogs came over and asked if Mattie could be off leash and play.

What a time the three of them had! Their dogs were also Rat Terrier mixes rescued from a shelter. The women told us about a place near Portland along I-84 that is a 1,000 acre dog park. I guess we will have to find it someday.

By the time we got back to camp and ready to pack up, Mattie was in her perfect travel dog mode. She loves the motorhome, and always settles right down when we leave, usually in my lap or Mo’s depending on who is driving. As the day progresses, she will retreat to her bed on the floor, but she is never a problem while we are moving along. How lucky we are to have chosen a dog who likes being in the car or truck or MoHo especially!

If you would like to see the rest of the photos of our time at Waldo Lake, a link to my SmugMug Gallery is here.

On Wednesday, we left the campground by ten and were in the parking lot at the Eugene Valley River Mall before noon. In plenty of time for my doctor visit. The temps were already getting hot, and we turned on the generator and the air, with plans to settle in for the afternoon.

UhOh. The generator rumbled to life and then within a few minutes, it rumbled right back into silence. No generator. Mo tried a few things, but while she was messing with it, I was calling local RV parks! In plenty of time for my appointment with exactly one minute to spare, we managed to relocate to the Eugene Kamping World RV Park in Coburg, full hookups, TV and air conditioning! The price was fine at $33 bucks and some change. Armitage was nearby, but neither of us wanted to try to get in or find it. This was quick and easy and served our purpose just fine.

Later that evening, after my successful three month surgery checkup, we drove back to the east side of Eugene to have dinner with Phil and Joanne, friends of mine since 1977, that are now friends of ours.

It was the first time we had been to their new home, and Joanne had a great meal waiting for us. Their son Michael and his sweetie joined us for pre dinner snacks. It was great fun seeing him, and finding out that he is to be a new daddy in January.

I tried to get photos, but the new camera didn’t do quite what I expected, so these photos are a bit strange, but I wanted to put them here anyway, in honor of the lovely grilled salmon with homegrown basil pesto, quinoa and mushroom pilaf, and wonderful salad. Joanne made a blackberry cobbler for us as well, a gluten free/vegan recipe that she was trying out. It was interesting. Sorry Joanne, I probably won’t be going gluten free any time soon.

We left Eugene the next morning, grateful to be heading back over the crest of the Cascades as the record breaking heat wave was to hit the Willamette Valley and Eugene.

In the next few days we are expecting exciting company from Harris Beach/Brookings, so I am grateful that the heat wave is predicted to dissipate a bit.

In the mean time, the Blue Moon is set to rise over the lake at 8:32 PM and I plan to be there to enjoy it!

(Later: seems as though the Blue Moon was not mine to see. Dark and loud, but dry thunderstorms rumbled over our evening skies last night, and the power went down as well, but not a drop of rain)

September 10 to 12 Baker City to Wallowa Lake State Park

Currently in Rocky Point, Oregon, partly cloudy at 55 degrees F, predicted high of 64F

Don’t forget to click on the photos if you want a bigger version

Sometimes when we are traveling, our tendency is to go fairly long distances between locations. This time, however, we took our own sweet time getting from place to place, and then settled in to really enjoy the countryside. After the morning in Baker City, we thought it might be fun to wander off on some back roads instead of sticking to the Interstate. We could see the curvy road ambling northeast rising on the southern foothills of the Wallowa Mountains.

How bad could it be anyway?! Sure, the road was narrow, there were curves, but no real spooky drop-offs like the ones back in John Day Country, and we were rewarded with beautiful vistas of the Wallowas and the Eagle Cap Wilderness shining in the late summer sunlight.

It is amazing to me how many tiny little towns are scattered across this part of Oregon. Of course I knew of Baker City, La Grande, Pendleton, Joseph, and Enterprise. I do actually live in this state. But I had never heard of Cove, or Union, or Medical Springs, and as we continued our travels for the rest of the trip, many little towns appeared that were just blips on the map, and a blink of the eye.

People lived in these little towns, there were city halls, and fire departments, police stations, antique stores advertising “used antiques”. Hmmm. There were old barns, and beautiful ranches, and miles and miles of open space. It was lovely to wander through the countryside and imagine what it must be like to be born and raised in places like these, or to live there now. Did these people grow up here or did they somehow choose to come to a tiny town in the far reaches of Northeastern Oregon. Lots of fodder for the imagination as I rode along, for sure.

As you can see from the map, there is really no way to get to Joseph without skirting the amazing Wallowa Mountains. Home to the Eagle Cap Wilderness, these mountains are sometimes called the “Little Alps of Oregon” with good reason. Formed dominantly from granite from the Wallowa Batholith, the peaks are glaciated and dotted more than 50 apline glacial lakes. They reminded me a bit of the Sierras, only a bit more open like the Big Horns. The Wallowas are one of the premier backpacking destinations in Oregon, not nearly so well known as the Cascades with their volcanoes, but much more enticing to me.

The meandering route gave us just a taste of what was to come in the far corner of our home state. Somehow I was reminded a lot more of the Idaho I lived in for more than 30 years than the Oregon that is now my home. Everything felt so familiar, the forests even smelled different, familiar somehow. I recognized the plants, the geology, all of it was like coming home somehow.

Just like a lot of other folks, I thought, “I could easily live in this place”. The winters are long, the population of Wallowa County is a mere 7,500 or so, and shopping is far away in La Grande or Pendleton. But the towns are lovely, well cared for, the vistas are magnificent, the land open and spacious. Beautiful.

When we arrived at the Wallowa lake State Park in early afternoon, we were a day early for our reservation, but in spite of the crowded park, there was a site open for us until our space was ready the next day. We originally planned to stay longer in Baker City, but continuing to the lake and taking our chances for a spot was a good plan. When we first planned this trip, I didn’t think we would need reservations, but checking the State Park website was a good hunch, since we just barely snagged a spot for the four nights we wanted to stay.

Wallowa Lake is home to one of the best examples of glacial topography in the West, and images of the huge lateral moraines are used often in textbooks on geology and geomorphology. The lake is deep and blue and incredibly clear. Often the mountains still have a bit of snow in late summer, but none was left this year, a low snow year for the entire area. The lake was really quite low as well, surprising since it is a natural lake and not a reservoir, but I guess drought is drought, and lake levels will go down.

After settling into our one night spot, we took the Tracker for a visit to the Forest Service Information Center on the edge of the little town of Joseph. The woman at the desk was incredibly helpful, and there were a ton of brochures about the area. She suggested we try the Lostine Creek Scenic Route, maybe hike up Hurricane Creek, or go check out the Zumwalt Prairie to look for wildlife. All good ideas, but we settled on Lostine Creek, a deep glacially cut valley that climbed back into the Eagle Cap Wilderness.

We hoped for some close-up views of the mountains, but the creek is so deep in the canyon that it is hard to see much without actually doing some of the 12 mile hikes into the back country that boast elevation rises of 3 to 5 thousand feet. Maybe not today. Let’s go back to the campground and check out the local nature trail and let Abby swim in the lake.

It was good to be settled in and to know that we had at least one day of doing not much of anything. Mo had surprised me with the idea of a special birthday treat, and in a couple of days we were going to drive the Hells Canyon Scenic Byway to Hells Canyon Dam and a big adventure on the Snake River in the wild and scenic part of Hells Canyon.

After a great sleep, we took our time enjoying the campground, went to town to do some laundry and actually check in on the internet for a bit, and were back in camp in time to move to our more permanent site for the next few days. This is a very popular park, even in late September, and on this Wednesday morning as we tucked into a rather short space, I was again really glad I had made reservations the previous month before everything was completely gone.

As I picked up the new tag for the new site number, I overheard a very sad RV driver complaining to the park ranger in the kiosk, “I NEVER make reservations this time of year! What do you mean there is NOTHING?!” Blue lake, big mountains, cute town….a very popular place.

Finally in late afternoon we wet out on the lake in the kayaks to enjoy that gorgeous clear water. The mountains are so high that the sun disappears fairly quickly on the tucked away part of the lake, but it was still beautiful. There are lakeside homes all along the western shore, most of them very big and spendy looking, and only a few of them with folks hanging around on the decks and porches. Even so, the lake was reasonably quiet, and the kayak time was nice.

We never did see a lot of birds around. I suppose the shoreline is too rocky, the lake is too low, and the water too clear for bird food in any quantity. As lovely as the lake was, and even with that gorgeous clear water, I think I would rather meander around in an estuary somewhere that has a bit more complexity. Don’t get me wrong, it was a beautiful kayak and it felt great to finally get our boats out on the water. We originally planned to try doing some kayaking on the John Day River, but the drought wasn’t about to let that happen. I hate it when we haul the boats for miles and miles and never get them on the water!

Mo had packed up a good amount of wood for the trip, so we had another huge campfire after supper and enjoyed all the activity of a very busy campground with kids on bikes, lots of dogs (well behave and leashed) and giving Jeremy a chance to play around outside unhindered. We even put up the chili pepper lights on the MoHo awning, something we haven’t done in a very long time. There are some more photos of the state park linked here

Six Days off the Grid

Waking early Wednesday morning, I looked out over Medicine Lake, smooth as silk, without a ripple anywhere.

The skies were clear and only a faint bit of smoke remained on the eastern horizon. Our days of doing nothing were about to begin with a meandering 3.5 mile loop around the perimeter of the lake.

Our campground site is at the upper mid right of the map above, the swimming beach is the far right marker, the best fishing hole is on the lower left on the lake and the Brownell Cabin in on the lower bottom left on the shore. The good bike trail goes to Little Medicine Lake on the upper left shore. Somehow slipping into a kayak in the early morning feels like nothing at all, no effort, just a silky glide across water so clear I can count fish and silence only broken by the cry of ospreys.

I don’t know how long we were out there that first morning, maybe a couple of hours, but by the time we returned to camp the wind had picked up a bit and the smoke was disappearing completely. The day began with french press coffee and tiny donuts before we went out on the water and waiting for a mid morning hearty brunch seems to work best for us on this kind of trip.

The day would have continued without much fanfare, but as we settled onto the beach for a bit of sunny doing more nothing, our neighbor approached us all full of conversation and questions. She wanted to know where we were from, where we got our kayaks, and if we wanted to join up with their kayaking group from the Medford area. Martha was a very gregarious, talkative, and friendly woman and by the time she left, we had exchanged emails and had plans to contact each other for a day on Recreation Creek.

Not long after that conversation, she and her friend pulled out of the site just next to us, number 43. Earlier, when we found out they were moving, I asked Mo if maybe we should relocate, and she said, “No Way!!” But after they left, and we walked over to the site, the very easy, not steep, and not rocky path directly to the beach from the camp spot changed her mind. Ok, let’s do it!

Within minutes we pulled in the slide and backed the MoHo down the 50 yards or so to the much bigger, much more level, much more private site even closer to the lake. The funniest part of all was later when I was reviewing my photos, I realized that we had camped in this site back in 2005. How could I forget?!? Rather than hooking up the trailer, we just rolled it down the hill by hand to the new site, and floated the kayaks over to their new beach..

So much for doing nothing! After getting all settled in again, I had to run around in a flurry trying to take photos of the new site to remember why we made the move. It was a great plan and for the next several days we said over and over how happy we were that we didn’t have to get up and down that rocky trail to the beach from 45. Funny, I think I remember saying yesterday that 45 was such a great site. Well, it is, but only if you can’t get into 43.

A bit later we were down on the beach again when another woman came up to us asking questions about the boats and our rig. Seems as though she and her husband were camping and were hoping to eventually retire and buy a small motorhome of some kind. Before long we discovered that her husband was the base commander at Kingsley Field back in Klamath Falls and she was some kind of retired air force officer who now had three kids. I swear this woman didn’t look a day over 35. I guess some people make all the right choices at the right moment. She talked about her travels in the world, her husband, being active duty parents, and all about how much they loved living in Klamath Falls. People in campgrounds are just so incredibly friendly.

It wasn’t long afterward that another couple moved into our vacated site 45, only they at least were camping with a tent. Next thing you know, they are coming down the trail asking about the kayaks. They were from San Francisco, at least that is what they said at first. When we responded with “Oh, where in San Francisco?” she said, “Pacifica”. Then when Mo said she had taught in Pacifica for 25 years, they started talking about driving Devils Slide and the new tunnel, and then it came out that they actually live in Montera, just a few blocks away from Mo’s ranch in Montera where she lived for that 25 years while teaching. We all laughed about how you just say “San Francisco” to folks you assume won’t have a clue where Montera actually is located. How does that happen anyway?

It turned out that Barbara and Ansel were a highly entertaining couple, with some crazy quirks and a LOT of stories that they liked to tell with gusto. They also had a brand new inflatable kayak and were fairly new kayakers and wanted some advice about where to go on the lake. By this time it was very windy and there was no way anyone was going out on that lake in a kayak. We knew there was a small window of quiet usually in the morning for silky boating and told them to be up and on the water by 7 if they wanted to take advantage of it.

We spent the rest of the day doing our usual nothing, which includes some reading, some sitting and watching the sky, throwing balls for Abby in the water, watching the lake, and eating. We used the Weber Q for our suppers and the days just seemed to run all together. I had taken the computer with me, thinking that I could at least write for the blog with the inverter or when the generator was on, but sure enough, I had forgotten the plug! I am having to remember all this several days later since writing with a pencil is something I just can’t seem to do any more at all. I didn’t even take photos for two entire days and the only way to remember what we did is to go back over the photos.

We kayaked every morning and some evenings, had a big campfire every night where I roasted marshmallows and filled them with little pieces of chocolate that would melt perfectly. We had great dinners, and wonderful big breakfasts that were closer to lunch and never bothered with lunches the entire time.

We went for short hikes up to the Glass Flow, rode our bikes up to Little Medicine Lake on the lovely bike trail. We tried to ride to Arnica Sink on the not so lovely bike trail that was deep sandy pumice mined with fat lava rocks. We turned around on that one and decided that riding on the road was much more fun.

The birds are always a highlight, and after a few mornings I actually recognized the two blue herons that flew from shore to shore. It is always a decision as to how close to get, with the rule being if the bird is uncomfortable and starts to look nervous, you are too close. I think I got too close to these herons. I felt guilty, and then would think, well maybe if I am really slow and still it would be ok, but it wasn’t, they flew away, and dang! I need a longer lens.

The lake is populated with at least a dozen ospreys, perched on snags on the east and west shorelines and always entertaining with the diving and fishing. We also saw one bald eagle on the west side one morning, and a couple of red tailed hawks and another hawk that I couldn’t identify.

I was surprised to see several vultures as well, as I don’t remember seeing them at this kind of high altitude before. There was one Great Egret in the meadow on the first morning, too far for a photo, and he wasn’t there again. Ducks were surprisingly few, with just a little group of young ones without a mother paddling along on the east side of the lake.

Mo and I don’t fish, but we had a great time searching for fish in the clear water, with some great success along the southwest shoreline where one of the springs comes up. Sometimes we could see six to ten trout, maybe 14 inches or so, swimming around beneath us. We also love paddling into the knotweed with the happy pink flowers standing up above the water and making for some great photos with my pink kayak.

On one of our days the winds blew so incredibly hard I decided to spend a large part of the day inside the rig knitting a luscious wrap that I have been working on for much too long. The sound of that wind was fabulous, and the clarity it brought to the sky was breathtaking. I loved it, even though it made it too wild on the lake to take out the kayaks or try to take a swim.

I completely finished reading a great book about cheese, and Spain, and slow food, and betrayal. It was written so well that I had to highlight phrase after phrase of beautiful words to remember. I highly recommend “The Telling Room”, by Michael Paternini. Reading that makes me feel like I have read something worthwhile is great. We even had time for watching a couple of movies in the evenings, with the inverter handling it just fine without having to run the generator. I laugh to remember that we had this rig for several years before we knew it would do that.

Finally on our second to the last day, the wind died down completely, and I managed to slip into that crystalline water for a great swim. Cold, but great. Barbara and Ansel came down the hill to join me, but neither one of them could manage to get all the way in. I probably wouldn’t have stayed in as long as I did if I hadn’t been trying to convince them to swim with me. The day heated up beautifully, but with the warmer temperatures and no winds, before long there was a bit of smoke in the air again. Nothing like Grants Pass a couple of weeks ago, but smoke nonetheless.

On our last morning kayak, we took our slow time meandering around the lake. While admiring the old historic cabin on the southwest shore, the owner came down to the shore to visit with us. I must say I haven’t had such a busy social life in a very long time! He regaled us with stories about the cabin, built in 1928 by his wife’s father who saved the life of the original owner of the property. When asked what he would like in return for saving his life, the man said, “If you ever sell the property, sell it to me”. Sure enough that is how he got it. Now there are three sisters who share the space with extended family who have memories of staying there as girls in the 1940’s. They live there 3 months out of the year and then return to Morro Bay in California.

He told us that the first trout were brought to the lake on mules in 1880 and by the 40’s there were huge browns in that lake that the girls remember catching. In the 60’s however, chubs were winning, and the Fish and Game decided to kill the lake and start over. Now the fish that are planted each spring are fairly well fished out of the lake with no big old boys left. The deepest hole in the lake is about 150 feet, but the rest of the lake is quite shallow. It was great to get local stories from the local folks. He even said we were welcome to hike up behind his place to Brownell Meadows but we will have to wait for the next trip to take him up on the offer. Besides, this was the camping trip for doing nothing and we were getting a bit carried away with all the somethings that we were doing.

When it was time to leave, once more the campground was very nearly empty, with only a few occupied sites even over in the busy Medicine Campground. Our Hogue camp was almost completely empty. How often can you find an empty campground on a lovely lake in the middle of August!?! We read on the campground sign that there was an RV dump nearby but turned the wrong direction and ended up going south on 49 instead of where we were supposed to go. As many times as we have been to Medicine Lake, I still needed to get out the map to be sure we were on the right road heading home.

Down from the Highlands, summer set in again, with temperatures rising ten degrees in as many miles and smoke thickening the air as we approached Klamath Falls. bummer. At least we got a nice break from it, and Rocky Point has enough thick forest to help oxygenate the air a bit. I just read that Janna and Mike tried to see Crater Lake this week. Such a bummer and bad timing. I an only imagine how disappointing it must be for folks who travel from all over the world to see the beautiful lake and its gorgeous blue. Ah well, Medicine Lake isn’t quite as blue, or as big, or as dramatic, but it was lovely and perfect and I am so glad that after five years we finally took our Medicine.

Medicine, or dropping off the grid into a Volcano

Medicine is a word of several meanings. As in, Take Your Medicine, or more beautifully, This Place Has Powerful Medicine. Medicine Lake is named for the second meaning, the sacred meaning, but the two seem to overlap here in the deeper meaning of healing, either body or spirit, and of course, both are connected.

Medicine Lake is a small lake in the bottom of a 4 by 7 mile caldera on the Medicine Lake Highlands near the Northern California border. This sweet little lake is just a couple hours drive from Klamath Falls, and yet I don’t often hear of people from Klamath traveling here. Most of the license plates are from California, with folks driving up the nice paved two lane road from Mt Shasta. It is a bit of a drive, off the grid entirely, so perhaps that accounts for the open campsites and quiet lake.

There are no hookups here, no cell phone service, water in the campground but not at the sites. We came ready to boondock for six days, with a full tank of fresh water and empty waste tanks. Generator use is allowed in the campground from 8 in the morning to 10 at night, but we tried to be considerate and except for one early evening movie when the campground was nearly empty, we only ran the generator for an hour or so in the morning to keep up the charge. We were careful and when we left, our tanks still had plenty of room to take on the extra six gallons of water we added with jugs and a funnel. Mo has a small solar panel and although it doesn’t support heavy use, it does keep the charge up throughout the day.

Medicine Lake Highlands has the distinction of being the largest volcano in the Cascades and the largest volcano in California. Unlike the dramatic peaks we are all so familiar with, Shasta, Lassen, Mt Hood and others, this volcano is a broad volcano with dacite and rhyolite lava and obsidian flows as recent as 1000 years ago spreading from the shield volcano for more than 30 miles in every direction. From Klamath Falls, the Highlands can be seen in the distance to the south, unassuming, appearing as a nondescript broad plateau.

Medicine Lake Highland’s volcanic area exceeds 200 square miles in Modoc and Siskiyou counties and encompasses portions of three National Forests including Modoc, Klamath and Shasta-Trinity. Over the last half-million years, volcanic eruptions on the Medicine Lake shield volcano have created a rugged landscape dotted with diverse volcanic features including more than 700 lava tube caves. Some of the most popular features include Glass Mountain, Burnt Lava Flow, Medicine Lake Glass Flow and Undertakers Crater. Medicine Lake has no known outlets yet the water remains clean and clear with inflows only from snowmelt, rainfall and springs.

Driving south from Klamath Falls through Merrill, home of one of the best quilt shops in Oregon, Tater Patch, we continued into California on Highway 39 to Alturas, turning west toward Tionesta 40 miles or so south of Tulelake. The road to Medicine Lake is well marked, but narrow, paved but very rough. Abby and Jeremy complained quite a bit about the thumping, bumping rough sounds of the regular seams across the road. I guess they are created to prevent frost heave on a road crossing soils thick with pumice deposits.

The road rises over 20 miles or so from the juniper sage desert at 3900 feet to high red fir and lodgepole pine forests at nearly 7000 feet elevation. We watched the temperatures drop from the mid 90’s to the high 70’s as we drove. The skies were clear and gorgeous, with just a bit of smoke from the California fires marring the blue. In the past few years, we have planned trips to Medicine Lake, changing our mind at the last minute because of fires and smoke. This time we decided to go anyway, because fires and smoke in the west seem to be a constant and if we wait for no fires, we may never get back to this favorite little place.

We decided to skip the tow car on this trip, instead hauling the boats and bikes in a small trailer. We have traveled here several times, and spent days wandering the forest service roads exploring lava flows, obsidian flows, and taken in the views from the high mountain fire lookouts. This time we intended to relax completely. Without the car, we wouldn’t be tempted to wander any farther than we could go on a bike or our own two feet.

We arrived on a Tuesday afternoon, to find one of our favorite sites wide open. There are three main campgrounds at Medicine Lake, with the first one a bit more open and a sign says not suited to larger rigs. We aren’t quite sure what that means, because the sites are quite large, but the road is narrow. The sites are also not even close to level. We could camp there in a pinch, but the second campground, Hogue, is our favorite. There are a few sites in the upper part that can accommodate bigger rigs, but our favorites down by the lake are a bit small and not level. Medicine campground is the third one in, usually busier with lots of room for larger rigs. The Headquarters campground is farther west on the gravel road beyond Little Medicine Lake, and is very quiet, open and usually empty because it is a bit of a distance from the lake with no lake views. Another place that would do in a pinch if you drove a long distance to camp and there are no reservations here.

Our site 45 has a gorgeous view of the lake, a nice big picnic table down the slope from the rig, and for some reason there are two additional rock firepits added to the big one that was here when we camped last in 2008. A rocky trail leads down to the water and with a bit of maneuvering, we got the boats down to the shore where we could leave them safely for the duration of our visit.

We settled in for a great afternoon of watching the water, watching the sky, playing cards, and I brought out a decidedly sinful and delicious supper of old fashioned hot dogs, baked beans and potato salad that I made the day before at home. The site has only a small drawback. It really is a bit more suited to tent camping than a rig, but we managed to get the MoHo leveled and pulled in far enough that the back end was off the camp road. It is times like these that we are grateful for our perfect length of 26 feet. We can fit most anywhere and yet still have enough room to travel comfortably for weeks or months.

Our sleeping area looked out over the camp road, but there was no one in the site across from us, and the road was quiet, so it wasn’t a serious problem. The night was completely silent, the moon was low and reflected on the lake and the stars were brilliant. I wondered momentarily about the next several days. No internet, no phone, no car. Just a book, a boat, a bike, and a chair. Ahhhhhhhhh.

Next: kayaking, birds, and social life at Medicine Lake

Camping in a Caldera

Monday July 16 at East Lake in the Newberry Caldera east of Lapine, southeast of Bend, Oregon

Temperature at 9am 66 degrees F, last night low T 55 degrees F, might get to 79 today, or not.

Something about being in the mountains by a beautiful reflective lake makes time completely irrelevant. I know that it is morning. There are a few high puffy clouds coming in from the west that hint that there may be a shift in the weather on the way, but I have no way to predict what could happen except my own personal weather savvy from looking at the sky and feeling the air.

We have been here at East Lake, the smaller and quieter of two lovely lakes at Newberry Crater for a few days now. Not sure how many, maybe three? I vaguely remember going to the Sisters Quilt Show last Saturday, but it has already become a bit of a memory filled in and muted by hours and hours of images of reflected water and sky. I’ll have to blog about the quilt show eventually, maybe when I get back home and get out of this lazy lake mode.

Yesterday early in the morning we kayaked east and found the hot springs that I knew were tucked in along the shoreline, small pools hand dug in the pumice sands to moderate the hottest temperatures coming from the bubbling springs. A mayfly hatch made for interesting reflections on the perfectly still water, frustrating all the fishermen with their various catch methods. Those big black-backed trout were very happy filling up on mayflies. Seems as though someone dumped chubs in this lake and instead of poisoning the lake with rotenone as was done on Diamond Lake, they imported some non native Canadian Black Backed trout, or maybe they are European. Supposedly they are strong predators of chubs and the native trout can recuperate. Reminds me a bit of rabbits in Australia.

I was glad that those bugs weren’t very interested in landing on me and didn’t seem to bite. We heard that they only hatched yesterday, but a few non biting mayflies are nothing compared to mosquitoes and gnats, neither of which seem to have found this perfect little lake in the mountains.

There are incredible geologic stories of the Newberry Caldera, recent volcanism, obsidian flows, there is even a nice visitor center not far from the entrance to the national whatever area that this is. I don’t know. I don’t have internet or even a cell signal to look up and research every little thing, I just have my memories and much like the weather, I can only share what is already tucked away in my mind. I am completely disconnected from the outside world. All I have is water, pumice sand beaches, blue blue skies, clean clear water, and yes, an absolutely to die for, perfect campsite right on the beach.

Roger and Nancy provided a couple of nights of easy camping in their driveway in Lapine with hookups and a great dinner of bbq chicken on one night and we all shared a yummy treat dinner at McMennimen’s in Bend the night of the quilt show. On Sunday we packed up the rigs and headed east just an hour or so to Paulina and East Lake in the Newberry Crater area. We thought that by Sunday afternoon the campgrounds should have quieted enough that we could get a campsite without much trouble.

Surprise! East Lake is a very popular little fishing lake for the locals, and we only managed to snag a good beach front site by walking the park, checking the exit dates on all the tags, and finally asking one camper when he planned to leave. He was very accommodating, and said if we paid now, we could take possession of his site when he pulled out in a couple of hours. I guess that is the way it is done here. We got here about two hours before the 2PM exit time, and it wasn’t a bit too early since other folks were checking tags after us and any later than we were wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Even on a Sunday night, all the front row water sites were taken, but by Monday the park did have a very few unoccupied sites toward the back row of the park. We are camped at East Lake Campground, the best one in our opinion because of its easy access to the water, although there are bigger campgrounds in the area, and this one only has 24 sites. There is a boat launch and a large parking area for boat trailers.

Seems as though fishing is the most popular pastime here, and the first night we saw a young family pull in with a nice big string of trout for dinner. After the mayfly hatch, however, the catch went way down. The lake has a 10 mph limit so that makes it wonderful for kayakers like us. I haven’t yet learned how to paddle at 10 mph.

I really have lost track of time, a nice thing. We have been out in the boats paddling in several directions, found little bays and inlets, and of course, the hot springs. We have cooked suppers to share at the picnic table, and in Roger’s rig when the evening winds were a bit too much. We have had campfires with the great juniper wood Mo loaded up from home, and learned to make S’mor’s with Less, a new favorite of mine. S’mores are just too dry for me, but if you slip a perfect little square of chocolate inside a perfectly done marshmallow, the chocolate melts and ohmy!! Even Roger who refuses to eat marshmallows decided it looked too good to pass up and he loved the one that he tried.

Last night brought a bit of a downer for us, though, when we decided to go for a walk and Nancy discovered they had locked themselves out of their rig. No spare key anywhere. She also thought their car was locked, and of course we don’t have a car with us either. There is no cell phone service here, so we walked down to the camp host who offered a hangar and if needed a ride over to Paulina Lake and his boss who had a land line. Nancy’s wallet, everything, was in the rig, so she didn’t even have phone numbers of Good Sam, or any information to try to call. It was already getting dark and Mo and I were thinking we might need to break out the sofa bed (not ever used) and picturing a night in our rig with 4 adults, 2 dogs, and an elderly cat was interesting.

Lo and behold, when Roger checked their Honda, it wasn’t locked! Still no wallet or rig keys, but at least one little Honda key in the glove box, something called a “valet key” that started the car. They decided the best option would be to drive back home (just an hour from here) where they could make the needed phone calls, have access to their information, and sleep in their own bed. We are hoping they will show up here sometime this morning with someone to open up the rig and all will be well.

Tuesday July 17 Sherry, this one is for you!

East Lake Hot Spring is a magical little spring that emerges right along the shoreline of the caldera lake bubbling up through the pumice sands. People have scooped out the sand into a couple of small pools, and edged them with rocks and logs to keep the hot water contained. The pumice is lightweight and a bit crunchy, but you can scoop it out deeper if you want a deeper pool, and the temperature can be controlled by sweeping more cool water from the lake into your little handmade pool of choice.

The momentary drama of last evening was solved easily when Roger and Nancy spent the night at home, calling first thing in the morning to the dealer where they bought their rig. It was a 2012 model, without electronic keys, so they got a replacement key for just $7.00, and before noon they were back here in the mountains with us, rig opened up, and everything just fine.

Nancy and I decided to kayak over to the springs while Mo and Roger took the spring hike trail up over the hill. They found us in the pools, from a high spot overlooking the spring, but certainly not any kind of path I would want to climb down to get there. Kayaks are the only way to go. Mo and I had boated over there earlier in the morning for a soak and there already were some kayakers there enjoying the lovely little spring, but they called out saying they would be leaving within ten minutes or so, and I waited my turn. I had the springs to myself for a long time while Mo paddled east to the East Lake Resort in the distance.

East Lake shoreline hot springs So my afternoon soak with Nancy was the second of the day for me. What an amazing treat! After paddling back to the campground, we all settled in on the beach with the dogs and balls, and Nancy and I even braved the chilly waters for some swimming. A bit later I thought it might be interesting to see how Jeremy was in the kayak and that turned out great. He did really well, but finally decided that he wanted to leap back to shore. It is said that Turkish Angora kitties love to swim and Jeremy may have not loved it, but he definitely was a great swimmer. He kept his head above water and just swam into shore. He may have been a bit indignant, and he was definitely a bag of bones with all that wet fur, but he didn’t seem to mind that much. I took him in a couple more times and he proved his swimming abilities quite well. Jeremy goes kayaking while the doge play

We were treated to a nice clean fluffy cat when he finished drying himself off. The sun was brilliant and the pumice sands were warm and he liked being there, at least I think he liked it. He at least didn’t run away. kitty swim

We all settled in on the beach and I kept looking at the dark cliffs on the opposite shore of the lake. The wind wasn’t too strong and I decided to jump in the boat one more time for an pre-supper paddle. It was only about a mile and a half across the lake, but I paddled hard for a good 45 minutes before I finally approached the cliffs. No matter how much I paddled, they always seemed as though they were close, but I kept paddling and they didn’t seem to get any closer. In the shadow of the cliffs, the water was calm, and I could hear it lapping inside the eroded rhyolite volcanic rock caves. The water was very deep and clear and the cliffs had much more complexity that it appeared from a distance. In fact, they were almost scary.

There was a deep spiritual silence there, and the closer I got to the rock, the more I felt as though I needed to ask permission to be there. I looked up and said a little prayer before I paddled close and touched those dark rocks. Yeah, it was spooky, for no reason I can name. A powerful spot. I turned away after a time and paddled straight back across the lake without much trouble. I had purposely left the camera behind so I wouldn’t have to worry about it, and as I was silently cruising around those rocks I thought it was properly fitting that I didn’t photograph the moment. rougher than it looks!

The next morning Mo and I woke to glassy waters and decided that it would be fun to cross the lake once again, returning by way of the springs. Within minutes of launching, a big lake wind came up making for a very rough crossing. This time I did have the camera, but the I took very few photos, since I was paddling hard against the wind and current. We reached the cliffs, which seemed less spooky and actually more dangerous with the rough water. I could see how a storm could bash you right up against those dark rocks. We didn’t linger, and decided that it would be safer and easier to skirt the shoreline along the northeast side of the lake along the Cinder Hill campground and around past the East Lake Resort to the hot springs.

By the time we reached the springs, we had been on the lake longer than planned so a dip wasn’t in the cards, but it was good to be there at least one more time. Roger and Nancy had already left early that morning and we needed to be in Lapine by mid afternoon. We packed up in a nice breeze but I was still sorry to leave that beautiful, warm and sunny beach.

On the way out I thought it would be good to stop at the visitor center, but the parking was extremely limited, with only 15 minutes on the south side of the road and no parking signs everywhere else. I figured it wasn’t worth it, but hopefully next time I go to East Lake I can stop in to read about the monument and the geology. The Newberry area is “hot”, and there is some controversy brewing about companies planning to inject water under high pressure deep into the fissures in the lava to generate steam power. Ahh, let’s mess with nature just a little bit more. But since I am still writing this without the benefit of the internet, you will just have to search it out yourself!