Crater Lake

Last time we were at Fish Lake down by Richfield we found a trail head to Crater Lakes. No one we talked to anywhere had ever heard of Crater Lakes. There they were on the map though, and there was the trail head for a hike to the lakes. An unhiked trail to Jen is like an uneaten enchilada to me. “We will have to come back sometime and hike up to Crater Lakes.”

Well, this weekend was the sometime. John, Charma, Jen, and I began our hike to Crater Lakes on Friday morning. As we were gathering equipment at the trailhead three young people came back down the trail. I struck up conversation with them, specifically because I wanted to know if there was any use in carrying a fishing pole to the lakes.

“Are you planning to fish Crater Lakes?” he asked while eyeing my pole with a hint of humor in his eyes.

“We were thinking about it. Are there any fish in the Crater Lakes?”

“I don’t know. I have never been there.” He said. I took him at his word then, but later, after I had hauled fishing gear for 10 miles, I have my doubt he was very sincere. “You can let me know when you get back.”

The Forest Service trail sign said 2 miles to North Crater Lake. One thing we learned on the Appalachian Trail is that Forest Service signs are notoriously wrong. For example, the sign at North Crater Lake pointing back the way we had come said “Trail head 3 miles.” We all know that it isn’t 2 miles up and 3 miles down. How far is it really? The pedometer I have on my belt said we had walked 3.6 miles when we got to the 3 miles down sign.

And the Lake? What Lake? There isn’t any lake here. But I guess North Crater Lake sounds much classier than North Crater, which is what we found. We walked to South Crater Lake and while there still wasn’t much fishing, there was at least some water. The picture is South Crater Puddle.

Between the two lakes we jumped a small group of deer, does and fawns. We watched them scatter and then continued to South Lake. On our way back, just minutes later, we saw two fawns come back to the clearing. They were mewing like cats, calling for their mamas. I said, “Listen, they are calling for mom.” Jen wouldn’t believe me. She was sure I was making it up and what she was hearing was a bird and that as soon as she believed me that it was the deer I would laugh at her. Maybe I have fed her too many lines over the 41 years we have been together.

While we were eating lunch a horseman with a pack horse came into the North Crater. We thought about hiking out the way he had come in. Unfortunately we didn’t have a map. In front of us though was an unhiked trail. Jen wanted to hike it for an hour to see if it went anywhere. Charma wanted to go that way because she didn’t want to have to back down the steep trail we had come up. For once, John and I prevailed and we continued around the crater back to the trail we came up.

When we arrived back at the trail head, we looked at the map closely and discovered that the alternate trail did return to the trail head. Only it was about 4 times as long. That would have turned our ten mile hike into a 20 mile hike at least. Shoot! We might be still walking.

John and I made up a great story about all the fish we caught. Of course we didn’t bring any of them down the mountain because we practiced catch and release. And if I ever run into the guy who told me he had never been there with the glint of laughter in his eye, I am going to show him this picture of all the brookies we caught at South Crater Lake.


The next day, Saturday, we drove the Tahoe up the backside of the mountain to the same two crater lakes. I would say we wasted the day before by hiking to where we could have driven. But then, there would still be an unhiked trail on the plate. At least if we had driven there first, we wouldn’t have carried fishing gear for 10 miles.

On the bright side. I bought a new brace for my knee that I wore when we started down hill. I didn’t have any problems with my knee. Tomorrow I am going to get some orthopedic inserts for my shoes that will supposedly line the leg bones up so I will have less trouble. On a scale of 1 – 10, a return next May to the Appalachian Trail is approaching 6 ½.