Oregon is a landscape of variety. The damp coastal cliffs of
the western part of the state are in direct opposition to the dry eastern
high desert. There are areas so flat
where sagebrush and tumble weeds are the most dominant plant characteristics,
and then mountain ranges with land as rugged as an Englishman’s teeth and trees
as tall as clouds. This August, a dear
friend and old college roommate of mine, M., visiting from the Czech Republic, and
I set out to try and visit some of the variety Oregon has to offer on a three-day girls-only camping trip in the Southwestern part of the state.
Day One: Sand Dunes
We began by a trip to the beach. As we drove west, the winery-studded
Salem Hills gave way to roads lined with pine trees and logging area. The air then turned salty, the trees more
twisted, the air more chilly, and we were at the coast. She and I jumped out of the car at the D
river in Lincoln City, took off our shoes, and walked along the surf among the
people walking their dogs and flying kites.
The deep blue/gray of the ocean and the cushion and grit of the sand
brought out serious conversation. We
talked about things that didn’t really ever come up in detail over our regular skype
conversations—marriage, quarter-life crises, feminism, careers—and the wind
took our words from us and whisked the worry out of them, washed them in the
sea, and settled them back where they belonged in our mouths and ears. We drove
further south to Newport, stopping to see the Yaquina Head Lighthouse, hiking up
Salal Hill Trail, and to have fish’n’chips and see the sea lions bark at the Bayfront
area. We drove south and M. noted the Art
Deco style of Conde B. McCullough’s bridges as we continued towards Florence,
Oregon.
We set up camp at Honeyman State Park, bought some firewood
from a camp host who awkwardly mistook us as a romantic couple, and went to explore
the sand dunes. No sooner had we left
the canopy of the tree-filled campground, and then the ground turned to a
mixture of sand and pine needles and the sky started to expand in front of our
vision with wind-curved hills rising and falling all the way to the ocean. We climbed the biggest dune, rounding along
the steep edge closest to the campground up to the top, and watched the dune
buggies spin across the sand like insects.
It looked like a scene from the Star Wars or Mad Max films; it was barren,
bright, and surreal. We passed trail
markers that had been completely devoured by sand over time, covered almost
completely, and then we ran down the hill and back out through the campground
to Cleawox Lake. The lake was shallow,
warm, and perfect for soaking our feet.
We practiced some yoga poses lakeside as the sun started going
down. Back at camp we made a fire
without lighter fluid, I pounded my chest in pride like a gorilla with the
campfire roaring beside us, and we cooked weiners and drank Coria Estates Pinot
Noir out of plastic cups.
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| M. at Jesse M. Honeyman Memorial State Park |
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| Trail Marker buried almost completely by sand at Honeyman State Park |
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| View from the Tallest Sand Dune at Honeyman State Park |
Day Two: Caves
The next morning we deflated the air mattress, deconstructed
the tent, and packed the car to leave in search of coffee before our long drive
towards Oregon Caves National Monument.
We took a wrong turn onto Newport Lane in Coos Bay at a confusing
intersection that also appeared to be the red light district, and went across a
lonely bridge onto a nearly empty road.
We found our way back easily enough to Highway 101, then to Highway 42,
where we followed the Coquille River eastward all the way to Camas Valley and
beyond before finally turning south at Interstate 5. We sang along loudly to Regina Spektor songs
on the car stereo and made our way to Grant’s Pass and then followed signs and
the windy road off the beaten path up into the Klamath Mountains to the Caves.
The marble Caves were dark, cool, and not a bat was seen for
the entire tour deep into the earth (although several species apparently do
roost in the deeper parts of the caves in winter). We saw interesting cave formations made of moonmilk
and others, including stalactites and stalagmites and even a jutting line of
earth that was part of the fault line.
We ducked through the rocks into a large cavern called the Ghost Room,
and climbed up a ladder to a room filled with flowstone formations that looked
like hundreds of jellyfish rising up the cave wall. The forest ranger tour
guide pointed out where bones of a jaguar older than 20,000 years were
discovered, and we stood where bones of a grizzly bear from 50,000 years ago
were also found. When the tour ended and we exited the cave, blinking in the
light of the day, we took a short hike around the area. We stumbled by a deer on the side of the
trail who had no fear of humans and let us get within three feet, and saw another
mother doe and her two twin fawns gracefully pick their footing as they
clambered up the hill when we were coming down.
Day Three: Craters
On the third day, we drove to Ashland, Oregon and had a
picnic breakfast and a morning hike at Lithia Park along Ashland Creek. We walked the main stretch of downtown where I
bought some Jalapeno Artichoke bread from The Village Baker of Ashland (bread I’ve
dreamt about since the first time I ever visited Ashland). The Allen Elizabethan Theatre, where the
Oregon Shakespeare Festival is performed, had open doors, so we wandered in to look
at the stage, although didn’t stay for a play.
Instead, we got back in the car and headed northeast towards Crater Lake,
the deepest lake in the United States and the 7th deepest lake in
the world.
The lake is ethereal. It rests in the bowl of the caldera of
Mount Mazama and is a deep blue that is incomparable to other bodies of
water. Its color is dark and rich and
sits mysterious like a black opal in unrefined earth. I've been to Crater Lake before, and will never miss an opportunity to see it again. We first glimpsed the
lake from Rim Village, and then hiked up to Garfield Peak, where we could see entire
lake: Wizard Island, the Phantom Ship Island, and terrain south of the Crater. We saw the smoke of a wildfire burning north
of the Lake rise up in huge tufts that had started drifting across the
sky. Afterwards we visited Vidae Falls
and the Crater Lake Pinnacles, two other natural wonders within the boundaries
of the park. The Pinnacles are fossil
fumaroles located in the Sand Creek Canyon.
They are strange ashen formations, jutting out of the canyon sides like
broken ribs. Vidae Falls was our last
hike before heading to our campsite for the evening. That night we drank cold sodas from the Mazama
Village campground store, had a long conversation by the campfire about some of
our faults and our strengths and our language, put all our food in the bear box
provided at our campsite, and spent a long night curled tight in our sleeping
bags to keep warm before waking up early.
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| Crater Lake - View from Garfield Peak |
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| Me at Vidae Falls at Crater Lake National Park |
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| The Crater Lake Pinnacles in Crater Lake National Park - Photo Taken by M. |
When we awoke, the air was crisp and biting as it had been
the coldest night we faced the entire trip. Even though it was almost painful
to remove ourselves from the warmth of our sleeping bags, it was refreshing. The cold air, the friendship, the way we felt
like Mountain Women (dirty and ripe and constantly smelling of campfire and
armpit)—it was all refreshing. The whole trip was refreshing.
And then, we headed back towards Salem, to showers, to meals
cooked inside; having been made better from our experience.
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| Camp View - Mazama Campground at Crater Lake National Park |
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