Journalist By Nature: Crater Lake National Park

Driving from the high desert area of Bend into the volcanic area of Crater Lake, Highway 97 takes you south through pine forests that hug the eastern edges of the Cascade Range. The undergrowth has been cleared for about 200 yards on either side of the highway as a fire delay tactic in this fierce fire season. Highway 97 is the major evacuation route in this part of Oregon. Giant brush hogs demolish everything they touch, leaving singular trees standing 50 feet apart in an image of a bad shaving job.

Railway car art

Passing through La Pine, I stock up for the last leg of my summer odyssey, block ice being the primary purchase, as well as gas and car snacks. The Burlington Northern Sante Fe railroad line bisects the highway at La Pine, stopping traffic while the brightly tagged cars clickety clack across the road. It might be the main form of entertainment in this tiny town. The checker at the local supermarket claimed all she did was work and sleep, so there may be some truth to the matter.

A beautiful bald eagle dined on fresh road kill at the side of the road, its characteristic white head and hooked beak seriously taking in its meal. Other than in captivity I had never seen our national bird up close and personal like that, even at 55 mph. Other wildlife was curiously absent after seeing elk and deer in the Bend area earlier in the day. The swath of cement cut endlessly through the stretches of green forest, rising slightly as I approached my destination. I headed for Diamond Lake Campground to secure a campsite for the night, not wishing to battle the hoards of tourists staying closer to Crater Lake. The summer crew at the registration desk was desperate for company as the campground was lightly populated and paperwork had been done for the day. We chatted about their college and career experiences before they sent me on a search for my site. I had a choice of thirty. Locating a level spot with a view of the lake and Mt. Bailey, I returned to pay my half price money courtesy of my National Park pass again.

With a half day to explore Crater Lake National Park before nightfall I headed for the entry gate. There was a sense of anticipation and discovery in my approach. What would the lake look like? How big would it really be? The approach was like driving up to a hidden aerie, knowing it was a treasure but not having first hand knowledge of it yet. Straight towards the forested rim ran the roadway. The Australian accented U.S. Forest Service ranger waved me through for free, again courtesy of my pass. That saved me another $10. The nine mile run to the rim was eventually similar to driving around Mt. Hood toward Govvy, rail-less curves winding higher and higher, snow pack lingering on the uphill sides, vistas opening up as the elevation increased. I passed over the great pumice fields on the north side of the crater, perfect snowmobiling plains with very few trees and level ground. Clouds had dogged my journey and continued to hang in brooding grey, minimizing the impact of seeing the lake for the first time.

A slice of Crater Lake

And then there it was in all its sapphire expansiveness, the crown jewel of Oregon. Six miles across, nearly 2000 feet deep, the deepest in the United States, with a record clarity of 134 feet. That means a black and white secchi disk can be definitively seen at a depth of 134 feet below the lake surface. These details mean nothing without the breathtaking experience of seeing this natural wonder in person. It is like trying to describe the Redwoods where no picture can possibly capture the immensity of the giant sequoias.

Along with the size of Crater Lake is its impossibly blue color. What do you call it: sapphire, azure, cobalt, indigo, navy, cerulean, beryl? It is all of these and more, changing with the time of day, cloud cover, seasons and weather. It is a seducing task to attempt to capture a quintessential snapshot of this caldera. 200 pictures and two days later I still did not feel I had accomplished the task. Even a two hour boat trip around the lake perimeter did not satisfy my need to acquire the proper picture memories.

Rocky Penstemon line the trail

The only trail to the shore is the 11% grade Cleetwood Cove path. I determined to give it a trial hike before buying my $37 ticket for the boat tour, just in case. Trekking poles in hand, hiking boots firmly laced I ventured down the 1.2 mile trail, gentle switchbacks at first and then a couple of long runs through the cliff-hugging forest and finally the steepest set of switchbacks to arrive at the boat ramp. Parts of the trail are deteriorating due to little landslides so orange fencing is in place to keep hikers away from the edges. There are solar-powered vault toilets that burn waste products and keep pollution from entering the lake. The tour boats were specially built with multiple filtering systems to keep any motor fuel or oil out of the water and they were helicopter-lifted for their arrival onto the lake. The boats are stored on one side of Wizard Island in boat sheds for the winter months. The return hike up the trail proved to be much more strenuous, making sense of all the little resting benches along the way. Slow and steady did it for me, at 25 minutes down and 40 minutes up. One young dude was running up and down, assumedly in preparation for some rigorous race. The kiddos naturally wandered, alternately laughing and complaining "are we there yet?"

Crater Lake Lodge

With extra time on my hands I drove up to the Lodge, built in 1915 by a private developer and later acquired by the National Park Service in 1967. It is a simple structure, recently refurbished and appointed, including Douglas fir bark strips on the walls and Douglas fir tree trunks supporting the lobby ceiling. Large stone fireplaces burn brightly with gas fires, the temperatures outside dropping with the setting sun. On this day I strolled the pathways at the rim's edge, watching the foggy ceiling drop around the shoulders of Wizard Island, obscuring the full extent of the lake. Again, the many viewpoints pull you into believing you can embrace the complete panorama of the lake, but it is not so. Finally accepting this truth, I just enjoyed each part of the walk and accompanying views, storing them in my mind for later "viewing".

View towards Klamath Basin

Dinner from my cooler completed my day in the Park and as the sun-obscured sky turned dark, I began my descent to Diamond Lake Campground. However the trip was prolonged by having to drive very slow in order to safely navigate the faded and faintly seen paint lines that were or should have been along the sides of the road. Fog swirled around my car and I noted that some of the outer edges of the roadway had crumbled into the lower regions, leaving a ragged and probably unstable surface to drive on. Considering the average snowfall of over 500 inches each year, it is amazing that there are any roads at all! Once I arrived below the fog, the valley opened up for views to the Klamath Lake region and millions of acres of National Forest.

Diamond Lake Resort

Car camping once again, I was thankful for that thrift store sleeping bag as the temperatures dropped into the high 30's and I had to endure the sleepless sliding fetal posture through a night of chills and mosquitoes. The faint blue of dawn signaled my time to emerge from my cocoon and get presentable for the day. This became challenging as I realized I had shipped most of my "essentials", including clean underwear, off with my departed friends in a misguided attempt to go minimal. Splashing cold camp water on my sleep-deprived visage and jauntily fixing my hat upon my matted hair I drove to the Diamond Lake Resort for a cuppa and found the world of fishermen right at my elbow. At a table with a view of the boat dock, I ordered coffee and a hot breakfast sandwich, taking in the local color and conversations drifting through the dining hall. Stories of the best fishing spots, the virtues of various baits, gentlemanly camaraderie and fleeting moments of concern for friends were a peek into the world of long-time friends sharing a common love of fishing together. The waitress, a homely but pleasant and generous gal, offered me a cup to go at the end of the meal. You don't get that kind of service in town. The jolly desk manager, rosy cheeks and plaid shirt marking his lodge image, laughed when I presented him exact change for my meal. Such a friendly bunch of folks here on the lake.

Yes, THAT blue!

Returning to Cleetwood Cove, I was duly counted, ticketed and released to hike to the boat dock once again, this time to see the lake from its surface, all 13,000 acres of it. Ranger Dave provided a fascinating and educational lecture about how different types of people have seen the lake: local Indians, explorers, geologists, botanists, hydroscientists and regular visitors. Each group has seen the lake from a different perspective, concern and interest. You'll have to take the tour yourself to get the whole of it, but one takeaway is the fact that the greatest fear is not of another eruption but of an earthquake that would set off a huge landslide into the lake which would in turn create a tsunami wave that would crash to the opposite side and pull even more of the crater's sides into the waters, thus changing the lake level and clarity, possibly even opening a crack through which the lake would slowly drain. Something to ponder.

Caveman in coyote skins

With one final, yearning snapshot of the lake, I turned to leave this stunning natural wonder. I journeyed west toward Grants Pass where I met a caveman and barely escaped with my life. He was a rough character! Thankfully local friends provided me with shelter and yet another wonderful, real bed and a hot shower. A load of laundry put me back into clean and ample clothing for more days of visiting and working. Stretching my odyssey to the limit, I connected with two more friends in Salem and reacquired my "what if?" belongings. The next trip will require much better planning and packing to ensure a more comfortable time. But what is life if we don't learn from our mistakes now and then? This summer odyssey has been one of the best. I can't wait for the next one!