Uniquely Theo

On Monday, August 3, I hopped into Lady Spitfire, once again packed as though I were permanently moving into the wilderness, and headed through Central Oregon toward Lava Lake, which would be my base for exploring the Three Sisters area. I had first become aware of this unique volcanic landscape while reading my son’s Pacific Crest Trail hiking journal and now eager to see some of it myself. My plan was to day hike a couple of sections of the PCT that winds through this area.

The drive was pleasantly uneventful along two lane forested roads.  Fortunately, there were enough passing lanes that I did not have to become the crazy woman driver trying to pass everyone who wasn’t traveling at what I deemed the acceptable speed.  There are things about camping I am willing to endure but driving behind someone going 20  miles under the seed limit it definitely not one of them.

I had deliberately chosen this National Forest Campground because of its location —- and because I have learned the best way to avoid the RV-and-generator  crowd is to seek out campgrounds without electricity.  This one was essentially a tent only campground along the shore of beautiful Lava Lake with a view of South Sister rising across the water.

Arriving in the early afternoon, I was quite pleased with my spacious.  campsite. Camp set-up was remarkably smooth since I had the good sense to practice setting up the tent before I left home.  The campground was still relatively empty but as the afternoon wore on, a couple of other camping parties arrived and naturally selected sites right next to mine. I have to wonder why it is such a great idea to leave the comfort of my home, rummage around in the dirt, and then listen to somebody else’s  conversation while smelling and watching them preparing a delicious meal with a plethora of cooking equipment and later enter their three room two story tent that makes my own supplies look positively primitive. Still my tent was set back enough that I didn’t feel particularly exposed.

The there was the matter of electricity. Or, more accurately the lack of it. It had seemed like a good idea when booking. Almost immediately I began what would be a recurring obsession through the entire trip: How am I going to keep all my electronics charged?

My iPhone. My iPad.  My AirPods, My Portable Power Station.

At least I wisely left my computer at home. The portable batter pack did a decent job of keeping things going but eventually the battery pack needed to be recharged. That mean plugging it in to “cigarette” lighter in Lady Spitfire. The the inevitable question: If I’m not actually driving anywhere, am I really going to leave the car running just to charge my electronics with the exhaust spewing into the campsite? I will leave you wondering. I hate to admit but almost everything I do for entertainment is on that iPad: games, books, and news— all siting inside that glowing rectangle. Why did I think a non electricity campground was a great idea?

One settled, I took a lovely walk around the area.  I found the camp store for essentials like ice, groceries, maps etc. I did a two mile walk to Little Lava Lake. By then it was time to commence cooking a meal and there would be no elaborate camp cooking for me. The evening’s gourmet creation consisted of boil-in-a- bag instant cooked rice, some already prepared ground turkey mixed with taco seasoning with a bit of cheese as a topper! DONE! 

The darkness settled over Lava Lake and all felt right with my world. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the lake turned to liquid gold. The silhouette of South Sister faint in the distance, the landscape softened by the haze of wildfire smoke, and a duck family drifting through the sunset glow captured everything that made the day of driving, hiking and camping feel worth it.

But reality then set in. Now for the hopefully final challenge and hardest part of this entire experiment: getting myself in and out of the tent and then figuring out how to get  myself comfortably situated on my cot, settle in with my iPad, and convince my self that this is actually a relaxing way to spend the rest of the evening

I had staked a ground cloth in front of my tent to minimize the amount of the fine silty dirt that seemed to blanket this site and puff up with every I step took. The dirt was not content to stay outside either. It began sneaking out from beneath the tent and onto the ground cloth at the entrance, intent of finding its way inside. I quickly discovered there were couple of techniques for entering my tent. One option was to remove my Crocs, kneel on the ground sheet, assume something resembling the yoga table pose, and crawl forward into the tent. Another involved standing, bending at the waist until I was essentially at a right angle, stick my head through the tent opening, lifting one leg behind me and shaking off the Croc, stepping the foot into the tent, grabbing hold of the cot for support and balance , and then repeating this maneuver for the other foot. This I assume would need to be repeated to exit. I am sure there were other possibilities but at this point I had not discovered them.

 It was only the first night.  I was wondering if I was having fun yet?