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The Race - Before They Are Gone
The current attacks on our public lands and the dismemberment of our federal land management agencies are catastrophic.The Lady and I are in our seventies. Our fights are behind us. And we believe there is not a chance of winning or even beginning to turn things around. We are realists. The results of the 2024 presidential election clearly show this country is beyond hope and a wasted cause. We give up.
And so, the race is on to see as much of the natural world we love before it is gone.
Rain continued as we traveled south from the big tree. The forecast talked of clearing. We’d find out. We approached the National Park from the north with anticipation as we neared the rim of the caldera with the lake at the bottom. It was 33° and spitting rain and snow. Clouds shrouded the landscape.
It was incredible with short breaks in the clouds, fog moving across the landscape, and a rime ice frosting on the trees.
I’ll mention another big surprise about the availability of campsites - this was a weekend.
We continued our drive south along the west side of Crater Lake stopping at every pull out to take in the changing views. Parking areas were less than half full.
A line of Clark’s Nutcrackers greeted us at one viewpoint. They were completely habituated to being fed by tourists. We sat down and had a serious talk with them about turning their lives around. It was a waste of energy, but you know all about that awful temptation to continue to try to help. With feathers fluffed against the cold, they worked hard to get attention. They succeeded in looking oh so cute but failed at getting food from us.
The weather continued with its glorious show.
A wave of rain returned as we stopped at the Visitors Center. The gift store and small cafe was a madhouse. This is where everyone was. We walked the paved rim trail with our rain gear taking breaks under large trees to cut the rain drops. It’s always special to us to feel weather up close and personal and the chill wind biting into our faces. It’s a part of feeling alive that grounds us.
We continued down the path to the historic old Crater Lake Lodge. With the weather outside and on a whim, we went inside and inquired at the dining room how long of a wait it would be to have a late lunch. Only a few minutes, that passed quickly as we had a wonderful chat with the two hosts, fun and energetic women.
Lunch was fantastic. The food was excellent. The Lady had a mushroom sandwich and I had fish & chips. It was so good we had to spurge and share a dessert. Our waiter was a young woman from the east coast and we enjoyed getting to know her. The atmosphere was enhanced as the rain turned to snow outside. It was clear many diners had never seen it snow before. Excitement moved through the room. Fire in the fireplace, snow falling outside, excellent food and staff, it was hard not to fall in love with this place.
The rain continued at the campground, a little lower in elevation and off the rim. There was ponding water in every low spot. Hot showers were available in the nearby market building. As evening came with the rain, it was Scrabble time in our camper.
The large group under easy-ups two campsites away, drunk and karaoke at full volume, is a horror story I need not elaborate on.
Go back, please, to the photo of the Lodge. See the trail traversing and climbing the mountain behind? The Lady saw it too. “Let’s go to the top of Garfield Peak!”
The weather continued with its dramatic changes as we started up to Garfield Peak the next morning.
The vistas were sublime.
We climbed up into the rime.
The clouds closed in repeatedly.
And just as quickly, a break would allow a brilliant shaft of sunlight through.
We waited in the clouds at the summit.
The clouds began to lift.
But never cleared overhead until we neared the trailhead hiking down.
The old Lodge is quite a landmark on the caldera rim with the lake a thousand feet below, especially from our vantage point on the trail above.
The road on the east rim had just opened from the north down to the Phantom Ship Viewpoint. Unfortunately, the trail down to the lake is closed long term for restoration and new construction, so that hike was unavailable to us. We drove to Phantom Ship Viewpoint - the road remains closed beyond there.
We returned north on the road and stopped at all the viewpoints, this made for a great afternoon. Traffic was very light on this section of road in the Park. Of course, it was blustery and cold.
It cleared enough in the evening that we hiked the complete Annies Creek loop near the campground. The Karaoke group was gone. It was a much quieter night, but rain continued off and on, drumming against the camper’s roof.
Over coffee the next morning, with everything wet and cold from the rain all around us, we recalled that incredible lunch we’d had at the Crater Lake Lodge. “Let’s go for breakfast!” we exclaimed in unison.
It was one of the worse breakfasts we’ve had in our lives. The coffee was lukewarm colored water. The food was poor. The wait staff was harried and unfriendly. What a profoundly different experience.
We needed something to put that breakfast behind us. The Lady’s suggestion - even with the biting cold wind - was “Let’s climb up to the fire lookout on The Watchman!”
The truck is down in the parking lot. This was a short, quick hike.
The lookout is hanging on.
Mt. McLoughlin and Mt. Shasta were visible to the south.
“We’ve never been to the Rogue River,” the Lady mentioned as she looked at the map, looking at options as we left Crater Lake.
The small, primitive, campground at Natural Bridge on the Rogue River was mostly empty. We found a private campsite at the upper end. We explored this fascinating place.
This is the river below where it comes back to the surface exiting the natural bridge underground channel.
Here's the view downstream from the bridge we were standing on.
The bridge.
Where the river exits the natural bridge.
A view downstream at the natural bridge. The river enters the underground channel below my feet, at the bottom of the photo.
Our topo map indicated another bridge upstream from our campsite, so we hiked the loop back to camp.
The Lady fell in love with a massive Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii). I told her we could not take it home with us.
Vine Maple (Acer circinatum) was everywhere.
Prince's Pine (Chimaphila umbellata) Thanks to Wandering Sagebrush for the identification.
The roar of the river lulled us into deep restful sleep. We were in a part of Oregon we’d spent very little time in. Where should we visit next? Our map was full of possibilities, but there was a standout. “We’ve never been to Oregon Caves National Monument!” the Lady noted. We reserved a campsite and booked a cave tour. That damn StarStink was proving itself to be quite convenient.
The weather had cleared. We walked out of the creek bottom up to the entrance road for an evening walk.
We arrived at the Visitors Center before it opened and enjoyed wandering the grounds before others showed up.
The collection of old historic buildings is a treasure.
The entrance to the cave system.
The historic Oregon Caves Chateau closed years ago.
Signs provide a glimpse inside from the past.
Since we’d arrived early, the staff put us on an earlier tour with fewer people. This worked out well. Our young woman tour guide was new and just learning her skills. What she may have lacked - she did a great job in our opinions - she made up with enthusiasm. We also liked that she had a gentle pace and covered things in detail. Maybe a bit slow with her pace as the next tour caught up with us. It was fun. I did not carry the camera into the dim light of the cave and enjoyed the tour without thinking of composing photos.
This last sign fascinated me. How many of you have old family photos on View-Master discs?
That’s it. This is the story of our month-long adventure in Oregon. I’ll leave you with this. If there is any hope for our public lands, it is with the young people. Here’s a message from someone we consider a hero in these times - Caroline Gleich
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