| Crater Lake Bike Tour |
Beth loaded up everyone and the bikes for a trip to Cleetwood Cove for a boat ride on Crater Lake. I didn't want to go on the boat ride. I needed some down time, plus the thought of hiking 1000 feet down to the dock, going out on a cold boat ride, then hiking 1000 feet back up did not appeal to me. I decided to wait in the nice warm van and read. The others headed out. The one glitch in my plan was that they parked the van in the shade, and I was freezing. My feet were like ice cubes. I got out and walked to the rim. What had begun as another glorious day started to look a little less promising. I saw some ominous-looking clouds in the distance. Next thing I knew, the clouds were covering the rim on the opposite side of the lake, heading my way. I hightailed back to the van, where Beth and I hunkered down to wait out the rain and sleet/hail. She said she would leave the bikes on the rack because she doubted that anyone would want to ride.
Meanwhile, the boat riders started out in nice sunny weather, but then had their version of Gilligan's Island when the storm came across the lake. They used any available garment and blanket to try to keep warm as the uncovered boat hustled back to shore ahead of schedule. Mitch said he was wearing the clothes he wears during blizzards in Colorado, and he still was cold.
 Starting our 3-hour cruise |
 Wind kicks up, Judith takes cover |
 Sleet, everyone takes cover |
Of course Bruce wanted to ride down the mountain. I figured I had my rain gear, so I would go too. I expected to be a complete icicle at the bottom, but the ride wasn't that long, and the van would be waiting. So I would go for it. Somehow I managed to unearth my big duffel bag in the trailer and I grabbed a few other cold-weather accessories. Four of us - Marco, Beth, and Bruce and I - headed off on the rim road towards the junction, a 5 mile segment. The rain turned to snow. I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of riding. Pete hovered around in the van to make sure we really were crazy enough to ride. We were committed. (Or should be committed.)
We got to the junction and I put on my final clothing layers for the big downhill. It wasn't as bad as I'd thought, not as cold or as scary, and certainly nothing like the precarious cold rainy descent from Red Mountain during our tour of Colorado in 1999. When we got to the bottom, the rain really came down and the four of us got drenched and cold. The others had set up lunch at Diamond Lake, where they plied the intrepid riders with hot beverages and food to ward off hypothermia. I wished that we had the hot tomato soup from the day before.
The leaders strongly suggested that we all should stay together and shuttle the rest of the way to Steamboat (another 40 miles of gentle downhill). My feet really were frozen by that point, and Bruce hadn't worn rain booties, so his were cold too. So we reluctantly got in the van to warm up and shuttle the rest of the way. We made them stop at several waterfalls (Clearwater and Watson falls) along the route and we all hiked into the woods to see the falls. The scenery here was classic Oregon, with water flowing over mossy green rocks. Even with the rain, the ground still was dry dust. We drove through some of the areas burned by recent wildfires and saw fallen logs still glowing red and smoking.
 Happy Hour |
 Nasturtiums at Steamboat |
 Dinner at Steamboat Inn |
We got to our final lodge, the Steamboat Inn, a wide spot along the road next to the Umpqua River, in time for wine and cheese. The place is a famous fishing lodge, renowned also for its cuisine. Our cabin was - you guessed it - right on the river. I made a beeline for the gas-powered stove and fired it up. We dried our slimy rain gear and then walked down to look at the river. Several crazy cats and dogs came out to greet us in the garden. Dinner at the Steamboat Inn was family style with stacks of salmon fillets for me and plenty of vegetables for Bruce.
 Umpqua River |
 Umpqua River rapids |