Land O’Lakes

Dog On Two Kayaks Lake.  Swanky Resort Lake. Water Toy Lake.  Weird Guy In The Hammock and Chocolate Lab Lake.  Lost Lake.  Itty-Bitty Frog Lake.  Today was Land O’Lakes Day in the Central Oregon Cascades Day for us.

We were slightly less slothful (Three Sloths on a Five Sloths scale as opposed to Four Sloths yesterday) today.  We arose at a Semi-Slothful hour, bathed, breakfasted, packed up our gear and lunch, and got out the door around 11 am.

Our first stop was Suttle Lake about four miles up Oregon Highway 20 to the west of the cutoff for Camp Sherman where we’ve been staying.  The south shore of the lake is a day-use area popular with families who have brought their kayaks for an easy paddle before lunch. The star of the boating world here was Spot The Wonder Dog who easily hopped from the bow of one of his owner’s small craft to the bow of the other.

We briefly considered hiking west along this stretch of the lake, but the roar of traffic passing by on the highway above the lake convinced us to seek a quieter venue for a stroll.  Before setting off the explore the opposite side of the lake, we decided to check out The Lodge at Suttle Lake.

A less chic-chic inn would have called itself the Suttle Lake Resort implying that it was a down-to-earth-family-style-place like those near where we are staying.  But both the facade and lobby of “The Lodge” bespoke money, money, money.  Waterfront cabins here run $299/night (as opposed to the $210 we’re paying at the Metolius River Resort), but “Rustics” (whatever they are) go for $99 and the other cabins and lodge rooms aren’t Plaza Hotel pricey.

Our next stop was Scout Lake.  It might have been a water hazard on a PGA championship golf course.  Small and shallow, it was a perfect place for the multitude of small fry under of the age of ten to frolic on a day when the temperatures hit the mid-80’s.  Some paddled around in inflatable rafts, some splashed about using assorted water toys, and others just hung onto or jumped into the water from long floating logs.

After finishing our picnic lunch at a table high above the lake, we perambulated around its perimeter.  About three-quarters of the way around, Cindy decided that we should hike up to the top of a ridge over looking the lake.  The trail continued on to the south and so did we until we dropped down to another deeper, and slightly larger body of water, Dark Lake.

Walking along the eastern shore we came upon Weird Guy in A Hammock.  He had apparently taken a dip in the lake, shed his trunks and left them to dry on a rock along the trail, then crawled into a hammock strung between two trees to take an au natuarel siesta without expectation that any hikers would pass his way.  On the way back along the lake we noticed that he had discreetly covered his middle parts with a towel, although he did not stir from his slumbers or give any sign that he had noticed our presence.
 
Cabins and other structures on the west side of the lake appeared uninhabited and aging Ford pickups parked near a locked gate looked as those they had been slowly rusting away, unused for some years.  A sign said Camp Tamarack was being used pursuant to a permit from the U.S. Forest Service.

Later we would meet a “local” who said that school groups from Sisters would come here to stay for a a week or so to learn “survival” skills.  His Chocolate Lab, “Maya”, was learning how retrieve a tennis ball thrown into the lake and lived to tell about it while furiously shaking her saturated coat and spraying us with lake water.

After hiking back over the hill to Scout Lake and stopping to chat with a woman who was out birdwatching, we drove back to the highway and headed west over Santiam Pass (4,817 feet) and dropped down to Lost Lake to get a glimpse of the summit of 7,800—plus Three Fingered Jack poking up over the ridgeline to the north.  When we got to the edge of the lake we noticed several “mounds” of damp, dun colored soil that suddenly started to move as we approached them.  These clumps of dirt turned out to be bunches of tiny speckled Cascade Frogs.  Flocks of violet-hued butterflies flitted about and landed to slurp up moisture while the froggies danced and darted away from us.

We continued on westward, then swung south toward McKenzie Pass, intent on circling back to Sisters on Highway 242.  But it was 3;45 pm and figuring that taking that route would put us back to our cabin after 6 pm or later, we reversed course and went up and over Santiam Pass in the other direction.

After we were nearly back to Camp Sherman we decided to go back to the Headwaters of the Metolius to see if we might get a better view of Mt. Jefferson than had been possible yesterday when the peak was shrouded in clouds.  Today the skies were clear and the snow-capped peak gleamed in the distance.

Hoping to get an even better view of the mountain, we continued on north down Forest Service Road 14.  Jefferson would wink at us from time to time through the trees lining the road, but we never got a good view of it.

We ended our day back at the fish hatchery.  Digging 50 cents out of Cindy’s wallet, we bought a couple handfuls of fish food pellets to toss to the always-hungry trout.  By 5:30 it was just us and the fish; all of the other tourists had headed “home” for dinner and a half hour later we followed suit.