When we went to bed after that gorgeous sunset we were in a bit of a quandary as to what to do. The internet was iffy, and I had a hard time getting weather apps to show current information. All I could see was the giant blue severe weather warning over most of the area we planned to explore on Wednesday. It wasn’t encouraging. There was always the chance that it was being over predicted, something that happens often. Then again, driving the MoHo down the winding mountain road out of the snow zone didn’t sound good if the 5 inches predicted actually happened. The 20F degree prediction for Thursday morning didn’t sound particularly good either.
We were reasonably certain that the main snow event would hold off until Wednesday evening, so went to sleep without much worry about snow the next morning, but where did we want to be when it happened? Did we want to simply give up and run home? NO! Did we want to try to run as far as Farewell Bend on the other side of Crater Lake? Hmm, MAYBE. Looking up the sketchy weather for Farewell Bend wasn’t possible because the only locations that would come in on the weather apps were Prospect, at a lower elevation with a decent prediction for rain, or Crater Lake with a LOT of snow predicted.
Maybe we should just stay at the RV park in Summer Lake? But with bad weather predicted for the next 5 days we really didn’t want to be trapped for that long. When we woke up to cloudy skies and a tiny skiff of snow Wednesday morning, we made the decision. We would drive the 5 miles east into the Summer Lake area to check for birds at the refuge before returning to the MoHo for a good breakfast.
With the overcast skies and spitting rain and snow I didn’t bother to take the big camera, depending on the phone to document what I thought would be a rather boring quick trip around the refuge loop. Big mistake! My Samsung Galaxy Note20 does an excellent job with most photos, especially in good light, or even sketchy light. However, zoomed in photos of birds are just a bit too tough even for the great phone camera.
Mo drove and wouldn’t you know that all the good bird shots were on her side of the car. As most people who watch birds know, staying in the car is the only way they stay around, with the car working as a great blind. So Mo would drive, try to roll down the window, take the phone and try to focus. We finally figured out that she could hold the phone and I could click the stylus to take the photo. Then Mo would roll the window back up because it was so dang cold, and of course, another bird would appear.
We had a good time anyway, laughing sometimes and grumbling at each other at other times. The water levels were low, and the numbers of birds seemed low, although it is a bit late for the big migrations. We were a bit astounded at the variety, however, spotting lots of blackbirds, red winged and yellow headed, ruddy ducks, Canada geese with babies, a beautiful pair of sandhill cranes, with a dancing male. As we drove deeper into the refuge, beyond the campgrounds, we began to see black necked stilts with their bright pink legs and the gorgeous avocets that we remembered from our last trip to Summer Lake a few years ago. We saw a single swan in the distance, too far to determine which species it was, but as always the swan was beautifully graceful.
By the time we completed the viewing loop at the north end of the refuge it was getting close to 11AM and we were chilled to the bone. Home to the MoHo and a nice big breakfast with eggs and bacon and toast and juice, a real treat when traveling.
As we were getting ready to pack up, a car appeared with two women we had seen the day before at one of the information kiosks. They were looking for the rock. They had been up the trail and had been fooled by the fake mountain goat scratched into a smaller rock along the trail. We told them how to find the real one. Shortly after that another car with a young couple showed up looking for the rock as well, and we told them about the trail and to be sure to look on the upside of the trail to find it.
By the time the slide was in and the jacks raised we had determined that our next stop would be La Pine State Park. Mo took me there one time when we were visiting her brother when he lived in La Pine but we had never actually camped there. It was only a bit over an hour away via Highway 31 toward Highway 97 and the road was wide and easy except for some rather horrific frost heaves on the pumice plateau that just about rattled us to death.
Once at the park, we first attempted to find a site in the upper north loop, where there was electric only. We didn’t need sewer so thought it would be fine. We attempted to settle into the rather narrow and unlevel site since there weren’t many available until we started to hook up the power. Um…wait….20 amp? On a very old post?? I think not!! Not if we are paying rather than boondocking, we wanted to at least be able to run the microwave without turning everything else off.
We retraced the entrance road and continued to the Middle and South Loop, where nearly every site was taken, but at least the few available had 30 and 50 amp hookups and the sites were paved and very level. We picked one and settled in, grousing about the dreary skies, the complete lack of not only internet, but even a cell phone signal! Neither of us was exactly happy with where we were. The forest was thick second growth lodgepole with some skinny scattered ponderosa pine and everything was so flat and gray. There wasn’t a bit of a view and the park was very crowded. It was disconcerting to discover that we had only a tiny bit of signal, enough for a text message but no access to any kind of internet, email, or maps. It certainly wasn’t what we had envisioned for our desert trip, and as the snow flurries started falling it made it even less fun when we couldn’t track the weather to figure out what to expect. We settled in, both of us a bit grumpy, which doesn’t happen very often. After talking it out a bit, we decided to get in the car and try to explore the flat, featureless landscape and see what in the world people did when they visited La Pine State Park.
With just a short ride, we found the Dan MacGregor memorial overlooking a lovely trail on a wide bow in the Deschutes River. With the sun appearing once again and the beautiful view of the river our mood began to improve considerably. Mo had camped at a forest service campground a few miles back toward La Pine and on the road that goes to Paulina Lake. Deciding to drive to that campground to check it out, we discovered a locked gate and a closed campground. Not sure why it was closed, but I am glad we hadn’t planned on staying there for the night.
The night was surprisingly quiet considering how full the campground was. I slept a bit fitfully, unsure of what the next day might bring. The snow flurries continued throughout the night, but by morning they were gone and lo and behold the sun was shining.
On the previous day I had photographed a map of the park with some locations that might be interesting to explore. When we checked into the park, there was only a simple map of the campground and not a single map or brochure about the area. Without the internet, we were basically following our noses, so I was glad I had photographed that park map.
We drove north and found the road leading toward “Falls”, a dot on the map. What we found was a magnificent surprise tucked away on that flat, featureless pumice plain covered with lodgepole and ponderosa. Fall River was gorgeous, a well known river for fly fishing, but on this cold sunny morning there wasn’t a soul in sight. We followed the trail to the Falls, not exactly sure how far it was, and as Mo asked me if I had any idea how much farther we needed to hike, both of us began to hear the roar of the falls.
It was lovely. Brilliant in the sunshine and surrounded by thick blooming bitterbrush and grass still green from the winter. In spite of our misgivings from the previous afternoon about La Pine State Park, the walk along the Deschutes River and the hike to Fall River Falls made a huge difference in our opinion of the place. We might decide to rent one of the cabins with a nice RV hookup area to visit next year with our friends Maryruth and Gerald. Just 20 miles south of Bend and not far from the Newberry Crater there would be lots to share in the area and Maryruth said they would love to rent the cabin.
By the time we left the campground at noon or so, the snow flurries had disappeared but there were huge black clouds on the horizon. Once we reached Highway 97 and I had cell service again, I discovered that we could expect more snow along our route to Farewell Bend west of the pass that is north of Crater Lake where we hiked last summer on our camping trip on the Rogue.
On that trip we discovered a sweet little boondocking camp site at Muir Creek, a tributary of the Rogue. Mo wanted to see if that spot was open for us, so we set our sights for the Muir Creek Bridge. It snowed on us a couple of times but by the time we drove in, the skies were a gorgeous blue. There is a trailhead that is on the west side of the creek with a large parking area with room to turn around. We parked there, unhooked the Tracker, and returned to the east side of the creek bridge to explore the campsite area.
We were thrilled to find it completely empty of campers, quiet and beautiful, and easily accessible with the MoHo. Having scoped out the best location, we returned for the MoHo and brought her back to what I now think may have been an even better boondocking site than our previous amazing spot at Pictured Rock Pass.
Our camping spot was a perfect dream of whispering forest, gurgling creek, brilliant sunshine and blue skies. Until it rained. But between the rain and snow showers, the sun was warm and Mo built a beautiful fire in one of the nicest firepits we have ever seen.
We sat outside in the afternoon sun with our kindles by the fire, reading till a shower ran us indoors, and then returning to the fire when the sun came back. Mo had only to step out the door to keep the fire going.
I hadn’t planned on dinners for this 4th night, and we thought about driving the 24 mile round trip to Beckie’s Cafe in Union Creek. It seemed like such a waste of precious time in the sunshine with our books so we made do. Dinner was tuna sandwiches and pickles and was perfect.
There was no need to close any of the blinds or cover the windshield here, since there wasn’t a soul around. The night was dark, and snow and rain came and went, but I was delighted to see that there was no snow on the ground when we woke. Funny thing happened when I looked out the front windshield and did a double take. It looked exactly like we were crossing the creek in the MoHo. Our front fender was less than 4 feet from the edge of the water, but from inside it looked exactly like we were in it.
I have no idea if this perfect boondock site will remain as perfect as it was for us on this weekday in May. Last year there was a tent and a trailer there when we visited in August. I also have no idea if the huge crowds of RVrs that are inundating almost every available site in the west will find our two perfect boondocks, one in the desert and another in the mountains. All I know is that for us everything was completely absolutely perfect!
The final leg of our trip home the next morning was just under two hours of familiar highway roads via the Rogue River route along Highway 62, crossing the Sam’s Valley on Highway 234 from Shady Cove to Gold Hill, and along Interstate 5 toward home. The skies at home cleared enough that we did our usual quick unloading of the rig, putting the food away, piling laundry into the laundry room, and letting the rest of the MoHo cleaning wait for the next day.
We managed to fill up 5 days and 4 nights with a LOT. It took me several days to process the photos, and several more days to write the stories. Hope my readers enjoy it as much as I have, but at least Mo and I won’t have to question which day we did what. Thank goodness for the blog to force me to write it down so that we remember.