08-07-2023 Kayaking and Relaxing at East Lake in the Newberry Crater National Monument

On our first morning at East Lake, we woke around 6:30.  The skies were cloudy and it was a bit chilly, enough to turn on the furnace.  We try to use the big furnace as little as possible, but when dry camping with no hookups there is no other option.  The little electric heater stays safely stashed in the bin in the shower.  RVrs know all about storing stuff in the shower.  At least ours has only two bins to remove before jumping in for a quick Navy-style shower.

We turned on the generator around 7, even though posted hours for generator use are between 6am and 10 pm.  That is a fairly long window for allowing that low-pitched rumble.  I am thankful that our generator is still fairly quiet.  Mo made coffee in the dependable Cuisinart pot we have traveled with for years, and I treated myself to a Starbucks in the new Keurig pot that I use at home as well.  Mo thinks Starbucks tastes burned, but since I first discovered good coffee at the original Starbucks in Seattle at Pike Street more than 40 years ago, I still love it.

After cooking a light breakfast we woke Mattie, all snuggled into her crate with her blankies, and I took her for a walk.  I did the campground loop and visited a bit with the camp host at the far end of the loop.  We had a little bit of a conversation about the flooding, the huge gullies throughout many of the campsites, and the fact that so many of the reserved sites were empty.  She attributed that to the heavy rain, overcast skies, and cool temperatures.  She told me that if someone hasn't arrived at their reserved site within 24 hours of the reserved time, she will wait one more day before putting the site up for anyone arriving after 2PM.

We decided that with the cool temperatures and cloudy skies, we would let Mattie rest in the MoHo while we went for our first morning kayaking on the lake. East Lake has one of our favorite launch sites in Oregon.  The beach is fine sandy pumice, shallow water out for a dozen feet, and an old cement block with metal loops that are perfect for locking up the kayaks so that we don't have to carry them back to the campsite every day. The paved boat launch where we park the car to unload the kayaks isn't terribly steep and we can reach the boats on top of the car without much difficulty to take them down.  So far, so good.  We can still get the boats back up to the top of the car, even with aging shoulders.

We know this lake well and decided that on this first morning, we would travel east toward the springs and save the white sandy beach to the west for the next morning when we hoped for warmer weather. The lake was calm, and it didn't take long for us to get beyond the steep rock wall that marks the location of the spring.  We could see that even this early in the morning there was someone at the spring.  

When we got closer, we saw that it was only one guy sitting there with his feet in the water.  He was a biker and when we called to him we had a nice conversation.  He was from Bend, first moving there for the snow and deciding to stay for good this past year.  He had biked from Bend and then took the trail from the east side boat launch on the lake to the spring.  

Mo's sister-in-law Nancy and I sitting in the spring when it was much higher on the landscape in 2013

In the past, it wasn't possible to walk to the spring along the shore from either direction, but the lake was lower this year and the trail was exposed enough to ride to the spring.  It used to be that the only access was either by boat or by the trail that is high above the water and required a steep climb down to the spring.  

The young man told us the water was very hot, maybe 104 degrees, and that the original location of the springs just a few feet away was dry.  We left him to his soak.

We decided to cross the lake toward the steep volcanic cliffs on the north side of the lake.  The twisted rock is evidence of the volcanic activity that created this great caldera and the beautiful lakes that are here.  The quiet on this side of the lake is palpable, with sounds from the campgrounds muted by the distance and the water.  

There is something magical about these cliffs and the clear, dark water next to them.  Huge moss-covered rocks are visible in the clear water.  Trees grow in the rock crevices and ferns can be seen in the dark places in the cracks in the rock. 

I tried to get some photos of Mo in her boat against the dark background, but they were a bit less than successful.  Mo tried to get photos of me as well, but we discovered that the contrast between my white kayak shirt, my white hair, and the dark cliffs were more than the phone camera could handle.

After some quiet time enjoying the cliffs and the silence, we turned toward the campground across the lake.  It was about 9:45 am and the lake was still as calm as glass.  I said something about the winds coming up around ten, and sure enough, as we approached the beach, the winds started ruffling the lake's surface.  

It was a lovely first paddle, although exiting my kayak was a bit more difficult than I expected.  I attempted to exit in about 4 inches of water and rolled onto my knees expecting to rise as I usually do.  The water was too shallow to give me the angle I needed and I  couldn't make my thigh muscles work. Mo had to pull me to a standing position and I learned that I needed to be in deeper water for my exit strategy to work effectively.

We locked the boats to the cement block, carrying our paddles and life vests back to our car parked at the campsite.  It was a perfect paddle, in spite of the cool and cloudy weather.  Upon returning to the MoHo, we turned on the heat to offset the morning chill.

Settling into the MoHo for a bit, we enjoyed the last of the apple galette I made before we left.  Our Gravenstien apple tree is producing well this year, and the first of the apples ripened just before we left on this trip.  I have a recipe for a galette that worked perfectly reduced to half the normal size.  Mo and I can never manage to eat the entire thing if I make a whole one.  

Later I decided that I would go to the Ten Mile Snow Park just outside the monument boundary to see if Gaelyn (The Geogypsy) had settled in as planned.  It was only a few miles from the campground, and sure enough, as I entered the huge parking lot, I found her rig parked all alone at the edge of the pavement.  

We had a nice visit, talking non-stop for almost two hours.  I should say that Gaelyn did most of the talking, which was great.  Anyone who knows and cares for Gaelyn knows that talking is one of her strong points. She is never boring and always has fascinating stories about her life on the road. She has been camping in the Oregon Outback on Winter Rim above Summer Lake for the last 12 days, one of our favorite places to camp in the Oregon desert.  She was even visited by a young bear and many quail.  She had lots of stories about this part of her summer road trip and will have a lot to write about on her blog.

Gaelyn's off-grid campsite at Winter Rim

I let Gaelyn know what the camp host said about available campsites and she spent a few moments deciding whether she would come to visit us at the lake and possibly stay overnight in the campground.  We decided that Tuesday afternoon would be a good time for her to come and stay at the lake.

Back home around 1:30, I settled in for a quiet afternoon napping and reading.  Mo enjoyed sitting outside for a time, but with the chill decided that it was better to relax inside the rig.  That is until she decided to go out again.  Mo loves to build and manage our campfires, and she had the fire ring all prepped with a nice little teepee of kindling long before it was time for supper.  

We had some sun, some wind, and some rain, but things were beginning to clear around 5PM and we decided to go for a walk along the lake toward the spring.  We have walked this trail in the past but were always stopped by the big rock fall that extended into the lake.  This time we were delighted to see that we could get around the rock fall and walk to the spring.

I was in jeans and a sweatshirt when we got to the spring, and was wearing walking shoes.  I so wanted to try out that hot water.  I wrapped my sweatshirt around my waist, took off my jeans, took off my shoes, and walked gingerly over the rocks to the spring.

The water felt great and was so hot that the rocks on the bottom of the spring were almost too hot to leave my feet touching them for long.  I love that little spring, even if it is only a foot and a half deep.  As I was sitting there, a kayaker approached asking how the spring was.  She had never visited this little spring before and asked if I minded if she joined me.  Of course, I minded, but of course, I said, "Sure, come on in."  She didn't last long in the hot water, and soon Mo and I had the spring to ourselves again.  

Mo took this photo of me after I put my jeans and shoes back on thank goodness

Mo isn't as much of a spring lover as I am and was perfectly content to sit on a rock and enjoy the lake view as the evening light and clouds played shadows over the water.

On our walk to the spring, we saw a woman running along the beach toward the campground.  On our return walk, she approached us again, running back toward the resort on the east side of the lake.  She was a delightful, adventurous person, reminding me a lot of my friend Jeanne, who loves to run.

She told us about the time she decided to run around the entire lake because her sister-in-law said she had done it.  Just beyond the white sandy beach on the west side, she ran into a bunch of nettles, not recognizing them until she was surrounded and her skin was stinging terribly.  She continued, and I asked how she managed to get around the steep cliffs on the opposite side of the lake.  She said, "Well I tried to find a trail but it gave out, so I just swam.".  That is something Jeanne would do, and I laughed out loud.  Then she told us that her sister-in-law finally admitted that, well, she didn't actually run around the entire lake and turned around when she reached the cliffs.  It was an entertaining story and she told it well.

By the time we returned to camp, the wind was howling again and there was a huge black cloud hanging over the campground.  We thought there might be a repeat of the last night's storm, but it never actually rained enough to get us wet.  I cooked a chop on the grill and with a salad and some of last night's mac salad we had a nice supper.  

We sat around the fire long enough for the coals to be low enough for me to roast one marshmallow.  I still laugh at these campfire marshmallows because they are so incredibly huge. The first time I bought them was for a camp right here at East Lake when we camped with Mo's brother and his wife Nancy.  Nancy and I laughed ourselves silly trying to get these huge things into our mouths.  No need for chocolate or graham crackers, just a silly time with a silly marshmallow that I don't even like that much.  It is a great memory of good times with Mo's brother who is now gone.

A  card game in the MoHo entertained Mo and me, before we retired with our Kindles for a bit of reading, was a perfect end to a very nearly perfect day.  Only the next day turned out to be even more perfect.  What a life.

A bit of a postscript here: I found this photo of me kayaking with my cat Jeremy on East Lake in 2013 while I was searching for the photo of Nancy and me eating those marshmallows.  I miss my soul cat.  There will never again be another Jeremy, who passed in the fall of 2014.