Time for an update to the thread...much has happened in the last 8 months on all fronts: fixes, mods, and trips! I'll make a renewed effort to make a post or two every week to try to catch up, probably in no particular order. Some mundane stuff, some exciting stuff. And some of you might recognize the now past trip reports that I've published elsewhere, but I'd like to keep ExPo up to date. Warning: lots of photos ahead! So here it goes, starting with the trip I was planning last September...
Big Lava Bed Trip Report: Rivers, Caves, and Disappearing Lakes - September 2014
We departed after work on a Friday, dropping off our kids at my parents’ place on the way out of town. Up until Thursday night, we didn’t know where we were going. For months I’ve wanted to tour around Big Lava Bed near the WA/OR border, but was sure we wouldn’t make it that far Friday night, so started thinking about other options. Maybe my default choice, Gallagher Head Lake. Some recent NWOL trip reports by Cascade_Wanderer and pasty63 had also piqued our interest:
Harts Pass and
Rat Trap Pass. Or maybe even the Tillamook State Forest.
But by Thursday night, I couldn’t resist the unknown of Big Lava Bed and some other intriguing sites nearby. That intrigue, combined with a campsite found by NWOL member BradleyC on the Columbia River that
I thought would be within a reasonable Friday night’s drive, and which would put us within striking distance to Big Lava Bed on Saturday morning, settled our plans. We decided to drive out I-90E to I-82E/US-97S to cover some ground we’d never traveled. The low clouds made us question what weather we were in for, but this was the last we’d see of a questionable forecast.
What I didn’t anticipate were the multiple passes and surprisingly mountainous terrain east of the Cascades. Beautiful, yes, but oh-so-slow in my fully-laden turbo diesel Discovery. What should’ve taken us 4.5 hours took us 6, and shortly after midnight, in complete darkness, we rolled onto the pad of shallow dirt and mostly rock that we would call camp. We fumbled around setting up our tent with a stiff breeze and stake-unfriendly ground, and finally crashed at 1AM.
The picture we awoke to at sunrise quickly erased the foggy memory of the night before. Vast stretches of golden rolling hills, sheer cliffs, and the massive Columbia River all coming to life with the rising sun. None of which we could fully comprehend in the blackness just hours before.
We packed up camp, headed into the small town of White Salmon, WA for breakfast and a Wi-Fi connection (we still had to download maps!), and made our way north towards what I’d like to think is one of the best kept yet easily accessible secrets of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest: an unmarked yet spectacular lava tube that doesn’t seem to get much press. Thanks to my friend and former spelunker, Rich, for sending me in that direction. Granted, I’m relatively new to this Northwest overlanding/exploratory lifestyle, so maybe 30-50 foot diameter caves that measure a mile long are old hat to y’all. But we were impressed!
Once parked to the side of a dirt forest road 1.5 hours northwest of White Salmon, we donned our headlamps and jackets, walked 100 yards along an unmarked trail that skirts the edge of a massive sink hole filled with fall colors, and scrambled down 30 feet of boulders into a collapsed section of the lava tube. We were in awe at the sheer size of this cavern, yet this was just a sampling of what was ahead. Scrambling through the tube another 100 yards and exiting the cavern at the far end, we found ourselves in another deep sink hole full of vine maple trees with a brilliant display of color, the sink hole walls covered in moss and ferns. At the opposite end of this third sinkhole was another cave entrance, but this one was far more impressive than the first. The mouth of this cave, already 20 or 30 feet below the surface, extended another 60 feet into the earth. Overcoming any remaining apprehension, we slowly scrambled deep into the cool, misty darkness. Photos can’t describe the landscape we saw, because, well, it was too dark for any decent photos with my camera skills. But we hiked and scrambled what seemed like a quarter mile into the cave with no end in sight to the 30 foot ceilings. (It supposedly meanders for roughly 1 mile, with a couple small offshoot caves, before coming to an end.)
Getting hungry, we headed back to the truck to search for a campsite. Making our way around Big Lava Bed (a fantastic and mind-boggling 9000 year old lava flow in southern Washington that can be easily spotted via satellite imagery), we came upon Goose Lake with a National Forest Service campground that was too tranquil to pass up. Not to mention it was getting late, and we had beer-boiled brats to cook up! And best part of this meal is drinking the hot broth on a cold night under the stars. Yeah, it was awesome.
Packed up the next morning and continued clockwise around Big Lava Bed to the site that had lured me to explore this incredible area in the first place: South Prairie, also known as Disappearing Lake. Every winter, it’s believed a lava tube next to the Prairie fills with water and freezes, creating an ice dam. Seasonal streams continue to flow into the prairie, creating an 8-foot deep lake. A few months later, in the spring, the ice dam melts, and the lake drains within a few weeks. I’m fascinated by this stuff.
7-minute Documentary Video
Of course, this time of year, it’s a grassy prairie, but was still worth passing through. We noticed some of the clues which point to its alter ego: driftwood, water lines, and the leaves on the trees seem to only grow starting 6 or 8 feet and above. I’d love to return in the winter and take a canoe out on the lake.
We headed home via Bridge of the Gods, past Multnomah Falls, through Portland for lunch at the unique Elephant Delicatessen, and arriving back in Seattle by nightfall.
Again, the drive took longer than it should have, even on I-5, but a slower pace allows more opportunity to take in the views, right? 20 MPG doesn’t hurt, either.