Sat:
Went to the Hollywood Farmers Market with the gang, ambled around, bought some fresh vegetables and fruits, and munched on a delicious tomale (although I still think the one at the Downtown FM has better tamales). The drive to Eugene was relaxing and uneventful. Neither of the two knew their directions very well so we got a bit lost but ultimately found C’s hotel and dropped her off.
The drive from there to the Lake reminded me of the drive in WA five years ago. There is something about driving on a scenic road flanked by tall majestic trees that is both soothing and exciting. We reached our destination faster than we thought: about 4.5 hours. Upon entering the road leading into the Park, my car was suddenly attacked by a riot of butterflies. Butterflies EVERYWHERE!!! They were flitting around, dashing for the windshield like thousands of kamikazes, or taking a perilous break on every inch of the road (only to be run over by regretful and disgusted drivers). My car was soon covered with the broken remains of butterflies and icky yellow streaks (the high speed impact creamed the poor bugs). We dubbed it “The Great Butterfly Massacre.”
I had the foresight to have booked a campsite, as this is one of the most popular national parks (esp. being the only national park in Oregon), and particularly on that day, a Saturday with a Rim Run. We checked in, and there she was, the same person who booked the campsite for me after the Xanterra operator said none was available. I thanked her again and she beamed shyly. Lesson Learned: don’t take NO for an answer so easily – it doesn’t hurt to try a different route.
Our site was awesome. We were at Loop G #29, at the (almost) end of the loop so we wouldn’t be bothered constantly by incoming cars. We were reasonably close to the bathroom (with flush toilets, a sink with mirror, and automatic paper tower dispenser!!!), to my immense relief (no pun intended), as I am still quite averse to the idea of going in the woods. Anyway, we spent the rest of the afternoon setting things up and making/eating dinner, and making our first campfire. The day was drawing to a close and the air got significantly cooler so the crackling fire provided welcoming warmth that we desperately needed. For dessert we made s’mores! I had heard so much about it but always assumed it was some sort of fancy French camp pastry (the apostrophe was very misleading!). Turns out, s’more just means “some more” (how poetic!) and it’s not fancy at all!
The Ranger Talk at 8:30pm was great! The ranger, Stephanie, was one of the best public speakers I have ever met. Granted, she had a well-written script and colorful slides and she must have done this a thousand times. However, it’s the way she talked: instead of sounding like reciting the script, she was telling a story (which kept our attention), and we learned a lot about the history of Crater Lake and what lie beneath. After the talk we huddled around the fire with other attendees, and as I was lamenting the lack of a Loch Crater Monster, we found out that the family standing next to us by the fire was from Scotland! It’s a small world!
Sun:
I woke up at 5:30am because when the day breaks, I wake up, and here in the wild, there isn’t a thick curtain over the window that could block out the light. Being an ambitious hiker/traveler, I always want to “do it all”, so last night I said I wanted to get up early to see the sunrise. But of course, the biting chill in the early morning and the prospect of driving 7 miles to the lake by myself didn’t provide much motivation so I went back to a most uncomfortable, fitful sleep (the foam pad and the Thermorest were so short and so flimsy that my whole body hurt). Finally, around 7am I couldn’t take it anymore and got up.
Went off in search of the coin-operated shower. I overestimated the time I needed for a shower so put in more money than necessary. At home there is more fuss but really it doesn’t take that long to be/feel clean out in the wild (sort of). At 75 cents for 4 minutes, I’d say 8 minutes are about just right.
Moseyed back to the camp, and the fire was already started with breakfast taking shape. I helped out and made my first pancake (so easy…)! The plan for the day was checking out a few hikes on Rim Drive West. Over dinner last night I pored over the park map and newspaper to pick out “quality trails.” My travel buddy, clad in torn jeans and tennis shoes (forgot hiking boots at home), was reluctant to challenge the more strenuous routes so we would take it easy.
Our first stop was the Crater Lake Lodge. We didn’t intend to start our hike there, but after following a paved road that eventually morphed into a trail leading to a mountain, we realized that we stumbled upon the Garfield Peak Trail, rated 5-star by the park newspaper. Apart from the incredible lake view, I also took numerous pictures of the gnarly snags on the trail, the undulating meadow, and the hanging cliffs. After about 2-3 hours we reached the top and had a hearty picnic lunch, surrounded by dancing butterflies and jumping hikers (for some reason, this place inspired people to pose for “action pictures” that just can’t be captured by consumer cameras). After coming down we were significantly winded so hung out on the balcony (moved to the lobby later because of the nipping wind) of the Lodge overlooking the lake, me gobbling down a sumptuous huckleberry ice cream.
After much pleading, cajoling and various attempts at convincing, my friend agreed to see the sunset (instead of staying at the camp playing Scrabble!!). We went back to the camp to take a break and eat dinner. After dinner we set out around 6:30 for The Watchman. We walked for almost half an hour and still couldn’t find a lake view. After studying the map we realized that we were heading the opposite direction (to the Devil’s Backbone) instead of The Watchman. This little detour turned out to be a really pleasant surprise. We walked on a sandy (pumice) rocky Alpine meadow covered with wildflowers and dotted with pines and snags. For the longest time we were the only people there, away from the hubbub of the tourist hotspots. We didn’t attempt The Watchman and stayed on the meadow closest to the parking lot, as the setting sun cast an orange red glow over the upper half of the caldera, while the lower half was still hidden in shadows. It was a most striking view.
After getting photo-crazy over some neat tree silhouettes against the dusky sky, I was shocked to be confronted with the ultimate tragedy: my camera battery died!!! Calmly I put in a spare battery that I charged to “full” before the trip, and to my horror, there wasn’t any juice in it either! NOOOOO!!! I was sooo mad. I blamed Amazon for the crappy spare battery, myself for being overzealous the day before, and again myself for not bringing my old camera, which is decent enough and most importantly, takes regular batteries that I can buy in the park stores. Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!
Mon:
Without a working camera, my enthusiasm reached a low point so I decided not to push for “perfection” as it’s already marred. I let my friend decide our schedule today: Annie Creak Canyon, Sun Notch, The Pinnacles, Pumice Castle, and Cleetwood. Most of these trails were short and easy, except for the Annie Creek one, as it was fairly steep going down into the canyon and neither of us had the energy.
The lake was uncannily calm today. I had wanted to take a picture of the perfect reflection but the wind the past few days had rendered this impossible (and the wind storm a few days before also destroyed the dock, resulting in the first letdown of the trip: no boat ride to Wizard Island). Now that the perfect reflection was finally available right here right now, I didn’t have the equipment for it. “Life is nothing but regrets,” I whined and griped, “and the more you want something the more God/Fate/whatever will prevent you from getting it. Looks like we just have to give up striving for something, because what’s the point – we are going to be disappointed anyway; on the flip side, if you stop trying, things might just work themselves out.” Anyway, my life philosophy took a nose dive into the realms of existentialism, much to my friend’s dismay.
The Pinnacles was a treat that, surprisingly, so many people opted not to see as it’s out of the way and not anywhere close to the lake. The sun-soaked trail leading to the canyon was cheerful enough, but the sandy/rocky pillars on both sides of the canyon were out of this world. They looked wild, desolate, mysterious, and just took our breath away. Miraculously, my dead original Canon battery had a brief resurrection and gave me three more shots before going back to hibernation.
By the end of it all we were both too tired and jaded to go down the Cleetwood Trail for a close encounter with the water. We said adios to the park and stopped by the Diamond Lake Recreation Area. Finally our swim suits were put into good use, as I took my first dip into a real mountain lake (my previous water experience was limited to the ocean and swimming pools). Not breathtaking, the lake was still rather enchanting and inviting. Basked in the sun and massaged by the alternating currents of warm and cold, I felt rather blissful.
We took the other route back to Eugene via Roseburg. The drive was gorgeous but I rode shotgun and took a nap in the car as it was getting hot and over lunch I had a cup (plastic nonetheless) of wine (which sat in the backseat cooler the whole time – a great but utterly unintentional violation of the law). We listened to Real Animal (Alejandro Escovedo) and Giving up the Ghost (Jackie Greene) over and over again. Good stuff! After picking up C, we had an early dinner in a drive-by BBQ place in downtown Eugene, which looked utterly depressing with all the closed shops and restaurants, and being again sober, I then took the wheel and delivered us safe and sound back to good old Portland.
Tue:
Slept in (but still woke up at 6am), did three loads of laundry, ran some errands, and stayed in the rest of the day calling friends and family and starting the new book Playing the Moldovans at Tennis.
It was super windy and chilly that day and I almost wanted to cancel. I am so glad I went anyway, because although it was gloomy in Portland, the Eastern Gorge area was mostly sunny .
Then today when I was taking my usual afternoon walk in my neighborhood park, I noticed the cluster of cherry blossom on the edge of the park. I didn’t even know they were cherry trees! Maybe because of the unseasonal snow, one of the big branches bent all the way to the ground, kissing the grassy slope. I could literally walk right into the cloud of flowers. I only had my iPhone (a poor excuse of a camera, since it goes too out of focus for close-up photography), but still spent almost half an hour walking around the branch, taking in the brilliant burst of petals, snapping pictures, and relishing this pure delight of finding beauty in a familiar place. What surprised me a little bit, was that the flowers are almost scentless.
I totally tried to steer him your way, as in, he should visit you when he goes to the East side. You are welcome. It was fun hanging out. The highlight of that week was a hike on the beautiful Elk Meadow trail full of blooming lupines that not only looked dreamy, but also smelled heavenly.
The weather was spectacular over the weekend. Since my only other (and now only) hiking friend, KS, was down with a cold, I was torn between joining a hiking group and going by myself. Saturday morning rolled around, and I knew I just couldn’t get up that early for the 8am start time. I took my time getting ready and finally left home around 9am for a place I had longed to visit, 
