Cascade Lakes Loop

A great view of the road ahead

A series of mountain lakes, trail heads and the headwaters of the Deschutes River are paralleled by a road.

The Cascade Lakes Highway runs from Highway 158 (Willamette Pass road), north along the eastern slope of the Cascade Range, skirts the western edge of Mount Bachelor, before dropping into Bend, Oregon.

Clouds cling to the peak of Mt. Bachleor

We drive this route nearly every season, but from late November to Mid-May snow closes the highway.

By the middle of summer, the traffic is thick, especially on the Bend and Bachelor end of the road. However, a mid-week trek is usually light on tourists, bikers and hikers.

A mountain marsh on the edge of Sparks lake

Sparks Lake is an iconic photo location and for good reason.

There is a massive wetland framed by rocky crevices of Bachelor and dotted with seasonal wildflowers, as well as wildlife.

Thistle sways gently amid marsh grasses

August flora is primarily tiny little blossoms tucked in the dense green marsh grasses.

As for wildlife this stop, we caught sight of a flock of Canada Geese resting where lake and marsh meet.

The best sighting was of tiny frogs, hundreds of hopping reptiles, no bigger than your thumbnail.

They made navigating the boggy marsh an adventure. Let me just say  .  .  .  these little guys weren’t the only thing hopping.  

Head waters of the Deschutes River

Of course the most common stop for us on this road is one of the many access points to the Upper Deschutes River. This day our favorite turnout was open.

We found large patches of Fireweed (Rose Pink Willow Herb) along the river’s edge

This stretch of stream offers excellent places for Tip to fetch and swim.

This day we were met with exceptionally high water levels. Levels we’ve never seen in the month of August.

Mosquitoes were less of a problem than in June. We could actually spend time walking along the banks, where the river hadn’t encroached.

Tip got in some wading, though high water made it impossible to swim after sticks.

On the final leg south, our route winds through Ponderosa forests, between two large reservoirs and right up to our back door.

Summer Storms

Early morning fog rolls off the Little Deschutes and filters our sunrise

We’ve moved into August and onto summer’s end.

These late summer days can turn from sweater-cool mornings to blazing hot afternoons. Thus, departure time and destination are carefully planned out.

Fishing has been good on the Crooked this summer.

Early morning trips to the river have been particular enjoyable this week. First, there aren’t a lot of people around before eleven, and second, the fishing has been good.

But equally as important as the quiet are the cool mornings. We’re still starting the day in hoodies and sipping coffee on the streambank.

Black Billed Magpie inspects my hat.

We pack up around noon and are home for an early supper in the comfort of our climate controlled home  .  .  .  or under the shade of our patio awning  .  .  .  tall glasses of ice tea in hand

A new wrinkle has entered our summer afternoons  .  .  .  thunderstorms. About 3:00 pm the thunderheads, with their charcoal gray centers, push in from the southeast.

Prelude to a storm.

It starts with the distant claps of thunder and if you stand on the porch there are usually streaks of lightning marking the storm’s advance.

In fire season, we’re not keen on lightning rolling across tinder-dry Juniper and pine forests.

Raindrops collect on a poppy’s petals

So far the storms have brought rain  .  .  .  torrents of rain.

The last one even brought small hail stones. By 5:00 pm the clouds have pushed past and no longer feature that menacing dark tone at their core.

After the storm pushes by our Aspen tree dries in the sun

These blasts of weather, especially the accompanying rain, are a welcome relief. The air is filled with the clean smell of wet pine while dust and pollen has been washed away.

Just before sunset, we arrange the deck chairs and sip cocktails on the porch. It is a perfect way to bring a summer day to a close.

May Musings

Relaxing on a fine spring day

May, in Central Oregon, is an anomaly to seasonal shifts. April brings hope for spring. May comes, and winter still hangs around  .  .  .  think hail storm just two weeks ago.

Then you hit Memorial weekend, the official start to summer activities (camping, rafting). It’s not summer, yet it doesn’t feel like spring.

This week was a busy finish to the month. While we didn’t do any major excursions, we did manage a couple of trips up to the Crooked River.

There is the promise of a caddis or mayfly hatch  .  .  .  which didn’t materialize  .  .  .  on top of shirt-sleeve warm afternoons.

We’re still shaking off layers of winter, but are well into wildflowers, lower river levels, and increased wildlife activity.

Exploring a lush riparian

Some of the week was spent raking up those layers of winter in the form of yard debris (disposal offered for free).

We also pulled out old trees to replace with new bare root stock. Not real exciting stuff, but nice additions to the yard.

Hauling camera gear to next location.

With the promise of summer we’ve renewed plans for adventures now that our home improvement projects, AKA spring cleaning, has been completed.

River Watch

Dwarfed by Oregon geology

As regular readers of this blog will note, there are places we frequent regularly, some as often as weekly.

The observation of seasonal change enhances understanding of an area. You never step in the same stream twice refers to this constant level of change in nature.

Arrowleaf Balsamroot lights up the hillside

Weekly excursions often involve a quick check on a favorite spot. While  a seasonal change can be anticipated, the timing of these events isn’t a precise science.

Add to this is the narrow window high desert seasons afford flora and fauna. For example, the wild Iris bloom in the Crooked River riparian for a matter of days each spring.

Our interest is in stream flow as a measure for fishing. While an internet chart can state it’s 850 cfs, that data point is very different when standing on river’s edge and seeing just how much bank is exposed.

The hills south of Dufur are a rich green for a few weeks each spring

The crux if these side trips amounts to recon missions. While we’re already headed to Maupin for a river check, it’s easy to swing up to Dufur.

There we will catch bright green fields of spring wheat sprouts juxtaposed against a snow capped Mt Hood. This is a photo op that will not be possible in a few weeks.

A New Spot on the Flyway

Tree Swallow

It’s the height of migration and the wetlands along the Pacific Flyway are filling with all types of birds.

Usually we visit Summer Lake a few times during April and May. These trips often get extended east to Abert Lake. It’s prime birding time and locations.

Last year the Klamath River was in the news as several dams were removed. What followed was the nearly instant return of ocean-reared salmon to the lower river.

We’ve been charting a trip to Northern California and southern Oregon to see early stages of this rehab project.

Reflections on a marsh pond

In that planning process, we discovered a wetland refuge to the east of Crater Lake.

Klamath Lake Wildlife Refuge is south of the park, and while it’s a large area, we’ve not had much luck finding good birding sites.

Klamath Marsh Wildlife Refuge on the other hand, is a smaller track of wetland directly east of Crater Lake. Until this week, unexplored.

A wide expanse of natural meadow borders the marsh on the Crater Lake side. Ponderosa pine forest lines it’s western edge.

The great part of this birding spot is you can drive right through the middle of it. This makes it very much like an experience at Summer Lake.

Also, like Summer Lake, it’s only about an hour’s drive from the house. Our early morning arrival was met with a wall of fog rising off the marsh. The sun burned off these clouds, but not before we captured some great footage.

The road through the marsh takes off from Highway 97 and is a dozen miles north of Klamath Lake. It continues onto OR 31 at Silver Lake, which is about 30 minutes from Summer Lake, making it a perfect birding loop.