I really love this new campsite. Last night I was lulled to sleep to the sound of a thousand lake frogs chirping, and raindrops splattering on the roof. We woke up this morning to mist hovering over the lake and shrouding the mountains. The view through the bus windows is so serene.
It’s a dark, drizzly day. Importantly, we had enough power to make morning coffee, and there should be more solar to charge up our batteries as the day goes on.
It’s coooold, baby! We packed up our gear last night for backpacking. Everything is ready to go in the car, water bladders filled, all we need to do is go. But this morning we huddled in bed for a long time to stay warm and comfortable. The weather still sucks. It’s dark, windy, and rainy. It’s going to be like this for the next week. Not a good time for birthday celebrations in the mountains.
So we are shifting our plans for a few more days at least, and in the meantime enjoying some local novelties. Trading in our bitter and windy campground for a more favorable one, we are now the only inhabitants at Lost Lake. This little lake fills up in the winter time, then slowly drains away through a lava tube in the ground in the early summer, creating a kind of rushing whirlpool waterfall as the water pours into the ground. I hope we are not too early to see it. The lake looks pretty full.
There are a number of hot springs nearby also. The thought of immersive, full body warmth is so appealing right now!
It is still bitterly cold and rainy. We are camped out at Suttle Lake near Sisters Oregon, and have decided to hunker down and stay warm in the bus until tomorrow. It’s been challenging to find the motivation to go backpacking in such unpleasant conditions. But we have plenty more birthday vacation days to play with, so we’re not worried. Brad has promised amazing things that we’ll see once we do get on the trail – vistas of Mount Washington, Jefferson, and Three Fingered Jack, glacial mountain lakes of turquoise blue, and spring wildflower fields in full bloom.
We’re road trippin’ again! It’s a great feeling driving with shoes off, second coffee in my hand, new wave in my ear. Checking out the cute hind end of Cuddlebus in front of me. Chatting with my honey on the two-way radio. Taking video out the window of mountains and countryside blurring its way into history…
At 55 degrees it should have been cold, but no. It was unexpectedly balmy and humid, almost tropical. The farm fields were freshly mowed, filling the air with the cloying fragrance of warm, sweet grass. We drove into a storm, dark on the horizon.
In less than three days we leave this place for the next destination. Our time in the Wallowas has totaled more than two months, and it has been really good to us. But I’m feeling restless and it’s time to move on.
It’s a surprising realization at how much I’ve taken to this nomadic life on the road. We are lucky to be away from the chaos of city life with everything blowing up there. Pandemic, riots, looting, unrest. But at the same time, it’s not enough. We feel driven to go deeper, further, to find someplace even more alone and experience a greater feeling of solitude. There are still too many people. There is still too much noise.