Hosmer Lake

The seasons change quickly but unreliably here in the Cascades. My kayak group has been coming here around June 20th for almost 10 years. We come to paddle the Deschutes river and the (car accessible) Cascade Lakes and to take advantage of the Bend areas many hiking and biking trails. If you are into that kind of thing you will also find a host of fine breweries and pubs in this area. 

This week is late spring for the lowlands but usually early spring for the Cascades. On previous years when we have visited we see lots of ducklings, very little snow, and the reeds out on Lake Hosmer are tall and lush. This year, Old Man Winter has lingered long in the Pacific Northwest. On most years, down on the Willamette river, my Partner and I are out on a camping trip down the river for Mother’s Day. Some years with 90 degree temperatures. This year Portland has still not seen 90 and the river has been much too swollen with rain to venture out for camping. 

Up here in the Cascades spring is also very late. Many of our Kayaking group usually stay in the primitive campgrounds up around the high lakes. This year many had spots at Hosmer. A few days before the trip was to start, they got a notice that their reservations had been cancelled because the camp was not yet open because there was still too much snow. My partner called the local Ranger and was told that though lake Hosmer is accessible, the lakes further up the mountain were not. In particular, Sparks lake still had ice and snow on the lake and the road into the park was closed.

My partner and I are staying in a state campgrounds cabin over at La Pine State Park. The weather for that park the day before we were to arrive was 50% chance of snow.  So we packed our warm clothes and our dry suits and tumbled into the car for the 4 hour drive up to the Bend area.

We brought the Spring with us. The first night here it was very cold at night. We had the windows on the cabin closed and the little heaters turned on. The second night here, I left my PFD out on the railing to dry and in the morning it had ice on it. The third night, we had our windows open for half the night. The fourth day we went to Hosmer and it was sunny and 70 degrees by the time we got out on the water. 

Hosmer is a beautiful little jewel of a lake. The basin was formed by lava movement and the water all trickles down to the lake through lava tubes and broken lava rock and one little glacier fed stream. The water is cold and clear. Over on the east side of the lake is a place where the water overflows the  natural lava rock dam and goes down a little rocky gully to disappear into an underground river that will eventually bubble up to become the Deschutes river.  The water level  was a few inches deeper than in previous years, but it is hard for Hosmer to get very deep because the water just runs over the top of that little dam. 

Water Outflow is through there

The big seasonal difference was apparent even as my group filled up the little parking lot and hauled our boats off the racks and out to the launch. The water reeds that we usually find growing kayak head high were just brown stumps barely sticking up out of the water. Where are they? They are evidently a couple of weeks in the future, waiting for us. I remember being here this same week in June in previous years,  back then the lake shore, and out maybe 50 yards in some areas, would be encased in these 3 feet high lush green reedy grasses. From a kayak, you can’t see over them and so you find yourself in a little river canyon of green as your follow the main current that streams through this mountain lake. Sometimes, if you were adventurous, you could take a short cut through the reeds or just lie in wait in the reeds for some unsuspecting club member.  No such opportunity this year. The lake is bare and visible. 

And the water is clear and full of trout!! There were trout everywhere. Our adult son is along on this expedition and he is an avid kayak fisherman. He was very excited to see all of the trout, though a little disappointed that only fly fishing was legal. (and it had to be real fly fishing. With a fly reel and un-barbed hook).  It was fun to see them gliding around on the bottom, however. I bet the bald eagles we saw flying overhead were also glad to see them… when they could. 

The south side (the put-in) of the lake is predominantly reeds on one side and rocky shore on the other. But if you follow the open waterway north you get to a very different eco-system. Here the entire area is a sort of bog marsh. The shoreline and little islands are stick up on 2 or 3 foot ledges made of grass and bush matts on top of what I am thinking is peat or bog.  The area is signed with ‘keep off’ signs as the islands are used by goose and Sand Hill Crane for nesting. On previous years I have seen Sand Hill Crane staring at me from the high grass on the islands, looking like some sort of beaked Snake with only their heads visible over the grass.  This year, the grass isn’t very high yet and it has been too cold for most of the birds to think about hatching out their chicks.  I saw one lone egg. Larger than a chicken egg, sitting alone right next to a little 10 foot island. It was in 2 feet of cold clear water. Sorry, little unknown chick.

Be sure to lift your head up from trout and island watching as you paddle. The snow covered Cascade mountains are sitting out there to the North and West and the views of them change wonderfully as you paddle around the lake. You must get a picture of your party silhouetted against the backdrop of Mount Bachelor, looking so much like a snow topped volcano. A little later, from a different angle, you can get one with North Sister and Broken Top in the background. They are taller and have much more snow as well as a number of permanent Glaciers, the water from which is partly what is filling up this lake.  What glorious views. 

At the northern end of the lake, where the glacier fed mountain stream comes in, is a large shallow area that is the silted delta of that stream. Some years the lake is too shallow to paddle over this patch without getting stuck, forcing you up against the trees where the main channel should be. This year, however, there is a foot of water over the silt and we paddle right across it. As we go, the bottom is very visible and we paddle across several sets of tracks where deer or elk have gone across the lake. You can see the hove prints spelling out the running gait of a large mammal. 

See the Footprints in the water?

Our objective at this point is to paddle up the little stream for as far we can to a little grass bench right below a little set of cascade falls. This is our traditional place to pause for a snack and perhaps  a visit to the little boys bushes. There is a flower that grows on the banks of this little stream that I love and don’t see in many other places. The lovely little purple shooting star is springing up all around. I am glad that we were not too early to see them.  Paddling up this little stream also gave me a good chance to get a better look at the peat siding on the one bank. It is several feet thick and sticks straight up from the bottom.  I am guessing that it started as a thick layer of glacial silt and then had repeated layers of dried and decayed grass. But still it looks like the top layers are alive and may be some kind of growing peat. Does peat grow?

The Depth of the Peat

I had said that we usually had a snack and a rest on that little area below the falls. This year, I think we were the snack. The mosquitos were really aggressive. Will they be worse or better in a couple of weeks when the reeds are tall? Dare I come back?

On our way back to the landing, we encounter many fishermen, in little paddle floats, and many other kayakers. I saw 4 older couples in matching eddyline kayaks. Eddyline [link] makes fine, relatively light, and expensive kayaks. I have owned a couple and have been generally pleased with them. Suddenly they are everywhere. I think the Pandemic has really forced people outdoors and everyone has been buying kayaks and getting out there. 

There was one species of bird making itself known. The tanager (check on this). One stretch of the lake, in the reed stumps, a male had set up base every 50 feet or so and the brightly colored males were squawking up a storm, either to chase us off or to attract a mate..... unclear which. We let them get on with it. Time for us to get going. We still intend to make it to Sparks lake for another paddle before we call it a day.