Feeling decidedly tender from the previous night, our start on the drive South was a slow affair. Luckily the motel staff didn’t charge us for checking out late. Knowing the direction we needed to head, we drove South on the main drag of Bend. Spotting a chinese food place that would do more variety (and vegetables) than an Arby’s, we feasted to the best of our ability before hitting the road again toward Crater Lake.
The road was uneventful aside from a minor detour. Seeing a sign for a volcanic forest on the telltale orangey brown backing they use for sites of natural interest, I turned the car onto a narrow unpaved side road. That got narrower. And narrower. Herds of little chipmunks scurried out of our way. After about 4 miles I decided to turn the car around at a road that looked like only a tractor had ever used it, thinking we must have missed a turnoff sign or something.
Turns out I shouldn’t have, and that patience would have been a virtue. The road was the right one and would have revealed a site of strange geologic formations. Oh well, the day was wearing on, and we actually wanted to see Crater Lake.
Our housing was the interesting Whispering Pines motel, which was about as norman batesesque as the name suggests. In all seriousness it was absolutely fine and entirely comfortable, despite the creaky bed and burn stains on the kitchen counter and floor.
We dumped our bags and caught our breath before setting off on the drive toward crater lake. It was a glorious straight road for miles that were rapidly disappearing behind us. Pretty soon the road was climbing upward and trees getting thinner. Then they stopped entirely, as suddenly as if drawn with a ruler. The soil changed too, to a purple brown mottled with rocks and the occasional scrub. It pumice desert, a clear sign of recent volcano activity. The literature we’d received at the national park gate told us just how recent: less than 8000 years. Whatever had happened in the latest eruptions had been big, and scary for the population who probably lived in the area around the rumbling mountain.
Just how big was revealed when I decided to careen to a stop alongside a slew of other cars at an otherwise unremarkable pull-off. We got out of the car and the first thing I noticed was the chill in the air and its incredible stillness. The second thing was Crater Lake’s immensity. We had obviously seen an approaching big round splotch of blue on our sat nav unit on the drive over, but when you’re looking over a huge round lake completely hemmed by sheer cliffs on all sides, the opposite side almost too far to see, you realize the catastrophe of the eruption. It wiped a mile off the height of the existing mountain and scattered it all around. It left a gaping hole still high enough to keep snow year round, with enough melting to build up a perfectly clean lake over a few thousand years. It was, and I know I’m as guilty of overusing the word as anyone else, awesome.
In a funny way Crater Lake alone was worth the trip. Its serenity, beauty and harshness were not unrelated, though completely different, to those on Rainier, which of course is a volcano as well. Nothing short of awe-inspiring.
For dinner, we rounded the rim of the lake and descended to the visitor center to discover they were serving a buffet of home cooked food. I am not ashamed to say it was one of the best meals I’ve had on the trip so far. The food wasn’t oversalted, greasy or pretentious. Plus they served Rogue Brewery’s Dead Guy ale. Being a hiker and coming here after days in the wilderness surrounding the Lake must be heaven.
With night falling we had to make our way to meet our fate at the motel. It came near even before, as in the twilight deer and other animals come out to play. Lucky I wasn’t speeding too much, as I had to make a split-second braking swerve to avoid bambi wandering into the road. The guy tailing me must have been more frightened than me, but I guess it’ll teach you to keep a safe distance.