08-05-2025 First Days at Medicine Lake

There is nothing quite so wonderful as that moment of anticipation as we approach one of our favorite places in the west.  The Medicine Lake Highlands loom over the landscape south of the Oregon border near Tulelake.  We know the route well, having camped at Medicine Lake together several times since our very first shared camping trip in August of 2003.

We have returned several times in July or August, and sometimes in frosty September.  The only thing that keeps us from going there more often are the fires that can darken the skies with thick smoke during the months when the weather is conducive to an off-grid camping trip.  This year, for the first time, we planned to share this special place with Daughter Deborah, and I watched the smoke maps daily as our scheduled departure grew closer.  Wonder of wonders, the winds kept the smoke from the California fires north of the lake, and the skies were gorgeous and clear as we drove over the High Lakes Pass, past Klamath Lake, along the State Line road adjacent to the Lower Klamath Wildlife Refuge, through Tulelake, and south on Highway 139 toward Alturas.

We have two favorite campsites at this lake, 43, which was already occupied, and this one, 45

Medicine Lake Highlands unfold like a vast, uplifted world, a gentle giant of a volcano built up by successive basalt flows that erupted from fissures as recently as 1,000 years ago. As the land swells upward, its crown is hollowed into a shallow caldera where forest, water, and stone mingle.  Within that natural amphitheater rests Medicine Lake, a still, dark mirror cradled by slopes of pine and fir. On quiet days, the surface lies so calm it seems almost to deny the restless forces that shaped it. It is that glassy stillness that draws us again and again to camp beside the lake and launch our kayaks on the silky water.

Mo and Deb did most of the hauling of wood and gear down to the firepit and picnic table

There is much to explore in this magical landscape. Radiating outward from the lake, the highlands are etched with the marks of ancient fire. Vast fields of ropy layers of cooled lava sprawl toward the horizon, some weathered and softened by time, others raw and sharp-edged as if the eruption cooled only yesterday. 

To the east of the lake, Glass Mountain rises in a stark, glittering contrast to the dark basalt around it. Born in a furious eruption less than a thousand years ago, it is a hill of pure obsidian, a chaotic tumble of jagged shards and car-sized boulders that catch the sun like splinters of black crystal. Walking there is like treading on broken glass, each step ringing underfoot with the clinking sound of glass shards. This is the high volcanic country we looked forward to sharing with Deborah. 

After setting up camp and getting settled, Mo started a campfire, and I cooked supper on the Weber, our trusty little BBQ that has been with us for at least a decade.  We had marinated grilled chicken breasts with foil-roasted yukon potatoes and onions with a dollop of beef tallow, my newfound seasoning treat.  A simple salad and a bottle of wine rounded out the meal as we looked out over the lake.

Check out our little chipmunk companion investigating the warm fire

We had another companion on this trip, our newfound friend Eldarr, a little gnome we found at our last campsite at Fish Lake on Fourth of July Weekend.  He was so cute, with one broken leg, so we decided that he needed to come traveling with us.  I named him Eldarr after doing a bit of research on gnomes, and his name means keeper of fire and protector of the hearth.  It was fun learning about gnomes and their long, storied history in the Scandinavian countries.  Until recently, for me, gnomes were just those silly little things everywhere at Christmas that are such a "thing".  Now I know why.

After supper, the glassy lake beckoned, and Mo said, "How about going out in the boats?".  We had already unloaded the boats and carried them down to the beach, so we were ready to go.  Deb stayed with Mattie, and for the first time, we got photos of Mo and me together in our boats on a lake.  

We paddled across the lake to "our" meadow, and on the way back, a bit of a breeze came up to ruffle the water. We call it our meadow because in 2003, when we were tent camping and I was learning to sail, we would tack back and forth near the meadow in Mo's sweet little red sailboat.

Sailing on Medicine Lake in 2003

The moon was rising as we returned to camp and Mattie was very concerned about us being out of her sight for a time.  Deborah kept the fire going and the four of us settled in to watch the fire and the rising moon over the lake.

The next morning Mo and I got up early to enjoy the beautiful stillness of the lake early in the day.  As with most mountain lakes, the stillness only lasts until mid-morning or so with winds kicking up around 9 or 10, making the paddle home less enjoyable.

I took only my phone with me on this paddle, unwilling to go to the trouble of packing up the Nikon, but when I saw the eagles, I knew that was a mistake.  Even the fancy camera in my Samsung 25 Ultra can't zoom in enough to catch the detail that I hoped for.

On our last morning at the lake, I did take the big camera with much better results than this photo, which I will include in the last post of our trip.

Still, we enjoyed every minute of our time on the water, searching out the eagles and paddling to the far western shore of the lake where the pink polygonum was blooming as usual.

Deb enjoyed her morning time without being rushed, and walked down to the lake to open up her umbrella for us to use as a marker of where we should head for as we paddled back to camp

If you look closely, you can see the MoHo parked in the upper area of our campsite and Deb's blue tent down below.  Our campsite is one of several along the lakeshore that are designated as "first-come, first-served" sites, with no reservations.  Many sites in the upper part of the campground can be reserved through Recreation.gov, but during the week, even in summer, we feel comfortable taking a chance that we would get a spot in one of the four campgrounds at Medicine Lake. We have always enjoyed the A H Hogue campground better than the other. Hogue is the unnamed campground on this map between the Medicine and the Hemlock Campground.

Map of A.H.Hogue campground with site 45 on the lower center right next to the lake

We were ready by ten to begin the next adventure of the day, with a back road trip to the Little Mount Hoffman lookout with its spectacular views of the surrounding landscape.

Coming Next:  Little Mount Hoffman Lookout hike, Glass Mountain, and the Glass Flow