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Crater Lake and Wizard Island in WinterLesson 1 |
Crater Lake is both a beautiful and
awe inspiring place with its deep waters surrounded by the steep and
intimidating slopes of the crater itself. With famous landmarks such
as Wizard Island, boat tours of the lake, and the Rim Road that
provides many amazing views, Crater Lake has earned its' title as a
national landmark. During the summer, thousands flock to the deepest
lake in the United States, at an impressive 1,932 ft. deep. While
the summer is a great time to see the lake, the TrailSide Adventure
crew have a hard time seeing by car, and dealing with the crowds.
So, what to do? Snowshoe the 33 mile Rim Road during the heart of
winter, of course!
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| Travis with loaded down sled. |
The planning stages began with the all
important building of a sled that could be pulled behind us, secured
to our bodies with a padded backpack waist strap. On said sled would
be 5 gallons of water, extra fuel for the stoves, the all important
heavy wool coat I just had to bring to keep warm in camp, and the
Native American Blanket Coat Travis had brought for warmth as well.
As well, we read up on everything Crater Lake related for a winter
trip. When to go, where to camp, regulations, permits needed, and
where to buy a map since even being on the Rim Road, getting lost in
the snow covered landscape is quite easy.
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| Winter Fashion Feaux Pas |
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| Winter Fashion Feaux Pas |
Deciding on 2 nights and 3 days for
our first attempt around the lake, we headed out, arriving and
checking in at the Ranger Station/Gift Shop. The Ranger pulled out a
three ring binder and gave a quick presentation on what to do, and
not to do, on our trip. No fires, stay away from the edge of the
rim, and with the heavy amount of snow that had fallen recently, we
needed to take the suggested avalanche detour routes.
Now we were excited. Lots of snow!
Avalanche danger! We filled out our permit, heaved on our packs, and
Travis hooked on the sled. We had 9 miles to go, and felt confident
in our ability to
make it to camp 1 around Kerr Notch before dark to
enjoy a hot chocolate with homemade Kahlua.
Off we went, and soon, up we went.
Post-holing to above our shins, even with snowshoes, the going was
slow as we pushed ourselves up the slope hoping to reach the rim of
Crater Lake. Travis, always the pack horse, had pushed ahead with
the sled on, but as I caught up we discussed the weight of the sled
and our slow pace. We poured out most of the water, knowing we could
melt snow in camp. Yet, even with that, the slowness caused by the
fresh, very light powder made the excursion a leg cramping, lung
punishing experience.
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| Aaron at start of trip 1 to Crater Lake |
After what felt like 10 miles, but was
closer to 2.5, we reached the avalanche bypass area. The Rim Road
at this location runs beneath Vidae Ridge, then loops around and runs
beneath Dutton Ridge, both steep and avalanche prone. At this point
a sign on the trail signified the trail we needed to take in order to
not have a mountain of snow collapse upon us. Into the woods we
went, looking ahead for the blue arrows nailed to trees that marked
our trail. On and on we went, making new trail and sinking even
deeper in the snow, dodging tree wells and thoroughly enjoying our
misery.
I have no idea how far we went, but we
knew that we needed to stop and set up camp, so we found a nice spot
off the trail and tied off the nylon tarp we use for many trips.
Digging out beneath it, we had a formidable shelter with plenty of
space that would hold some body heat and protect us from the wind.
We enjoyed the rest of the night drinking tea and hot chocolate with
Kahlua, melting snow for water, and fell asleep peacefully with hot
water bottles in the feet of our sleeping bags. We knew day two
would be easier.
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| Shelter after our 1st night |
We awoke to more fresh snow on the
ground, and large chunks falling from the sky. It didn't take us
long to realize that with even more snow, the fact that we were
already behind in mileage, and our slow pace of the day before, we
were not going to make it around the lake. After some coffee and
breakfast, we decided to just spend the day following the trail in
order to at least make it to an area where we could see the lake.
For some strange reason, seeing the lake in this winter landscape
seemed somewhat appropriate for such an adventure.
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| Shelter after our 2nd night |
We strapped on snowshoes and started
following the blue arrows, but within a couple of hours we lost the
flagging. We ended up just wandering most of the day, snow falling
intermittently, and never found the lake. At least we had decided
against trying to force our way through and irresponsibly trying to
finish the Rim Road. With an end coming to a fun and gorgeous, yet
uneventful day, we retired to our shelter, ready to quickly snowshoe
out the next morning. It was all down hill, so it would be easy.
As our worn out bodies recovered, I
suddenly woke up to a large THWACK
on the tarp and a startled scream from the sleeping bag next to me.
I asked Travis if he was okay through my uncontrollable bout of
laughter. He said he was as he pushed the large snow ball off the
shelter that had fallen from the branches above. The heavy snowfall
had added up quickly, and by morning we would have almost a foot of
fresh snow.
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| Aaron trudging through fresh snow |
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| Long hike out |
Time was not wasted in the morning, as
snow continued to fall. With little water to minimize weight, we
began the hike out, thinking we could cover the mileage in about 3
hours. It took 8 as we seemed to sink deeper and deeper in the soft
snow. Even the downhill was difficult, having to lift our legs high
above the snow on each step. Wind gusts would blow snow down on us,
making visibility poor and our faces numb. Making it to
headquarters, dehydrated and exhausted, we were ready for nothing but
the heat of the car and a long drive to food and drink. Instead, we
arrived to a car buried in fallen and snow plowed snow, and spent the
next hour digging it our. Lesson one learned, we would plan
differently next time in order to succeed in our mission to snowshoe
Crater Lake. Yet the main lesson we learned was the difficulty of
snowshoeing through to much of a good thing, said good thing being
fresh snow.
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| The car when we returned, with only the windshield wipers showing through the snow. |
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| Digging out the car. |
Lesson 2, Part 1
Aaron at Crater Lake, Trip 2
Travis at Crater Lake, Trip 2
Attempt two, and we had it figured
out. Take 4 days, not 3. Less snow, so we could start at the Rim
Village and take out the hard push up to the rim. No five gallons of
water. Travel the other way around the lake, the way that is
suggested. Still difficult, but doable, and we were pumped, ready to
go. With the formalities of permits and Ranger talks over, and
Travis having dropped the car off at Park Headquarters, we began our
trip on a high note, seeing the lake immediately. However, for the
first half mile our progress was slowed by an unseen threat; tourist
at Rim Village up for a day of sightseeing and playing in the snow.
With our large packs and sled they would stop and out would come the
questions. “Are you really camping out here? How far are you
going? Is there something inherently wrong with you?” We politely
answered questions, and soon were far enough away from Rim Village to
not see any more people.
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| The trail getting narrow along Rim Road |
The Rim Road turned more into a
windswept trail with steep drop offs to both sides, one side heading
far away from the lake, the other side a gully formed by wind swept
snow and the steep cliff faces along the road. To traverse these
sections we would have to stay upon the little more than knife
ridge
snow, with Travis pulling the sled, and me guiding it with a rope
tied to the back in order to keep it from sliding to either side of
the trail, and maybe pulling Travis down with it.
Even with this, we were making good
time. The terrain was moderate in steepness, the snow was firm, and
the weather was nice at just above freezing with little wind and
slightly overcast. We had started a little late in the day, but we
soon made it to the base of Watchman Peak, just under four miles in
and at 7,500 feet in elevation. Our plan had us camping somewhere
around the area, yet not seeing a good place to set up camp, we
pushed past the base of Watchman and continued on.
Up and around the bottom of Watchman,
we headed back towards the rim and a view of the lake when the first
rain filled wind gust hit us. At around 35 degrees, the windchill
was bad, but even worse was the fact that instead of snow, the wind
was blowing just above freezing water all over us. Hard enough to
make us begin to worry a bit about finding a place to set up camp,
the wind began picking up, blowing more rain sideways and soaking us
before we knew what had happened. In one of the most dangerous
predicaments we could be in, we were completely wet in 35 degree
weather with wind gusts of up to about 30 mph. Where we were we saw
nothing even remotely appropriate, or for that matter possible, for
setting up camp. Turning back was a consideration, but we had no idea
of how far we might need to go to find a spot to set up a camp that
would protect us. So on we went and saw only a large clearing, a
high saddle at over 7,500 feet to be exact, and at this point we knew
we had to stop and figure out how to set some kind of shelter up.
The wind was biting into us, our shaking growing more violent,
breathing becoming difficult in the storm.
The wind seemed to just blow around
the structure, each side just as bad as the other. Rain still blew
in with the wind, and even with heavier clothes, gloves and caps, we
were becoming scarily hypothermic. Action was needed, and we headed
towards the only patch of trees we could see, an unimpressive growth
of stunted and snow battered White Barked pines. We figured if we
got the tarp strung up somewhat tightly, we could dig out an adequate
shelter, yet with the wind ripping and our numb hands we could not
get the tarp to do anything but sag sadly between the trees. It
would have to do. Crawling inside we had some air space from the
hanging tarp that at least broke the wind, but the damage had been
done. The cold had thoroughly taken control of our systems, and we
needed to dig down into the snow to make our shelter liveable for the
night. Taking my avalanche shovel, I speared the flat head towards
the snow and made barely a dent. The rain soaked snow was a
conglomerate of ice balls. We used an ice ax and were able to at
least knock a little ice off a limb that stuck into the shelter and
make bit of a dent towards some walls, but the work was to exhausting
and we were just to damn cold.
However, soon enough we were changed
into dry clothes, down coats, and huddled in our sleeping bags. The
wind was picking up, and still shaking, I stepped outside to pee.
Panic hit as I was struck by a large gust of wind. I went back to
the shelter and told Travis we should just pack up and leave.
Travis, being warmed up just a tiny bit more than me, said that would
be a bad idea. Ten minutes later I stepped out again to get
something, what I can't remember. Visibility, which had been okay
even with the wind and rain, had suddenly dropped to nothing.
Discerning where the snow ended and the sky began had become
impossible as a foggy mist had encapsulated the saddle we were in.
Harsh reality ended my panic and I headed back to the shelter. More
clothing and a hot water bottle of tea took away much of the
shivering, but a long, hard night was still to come.
Dinner cooked, we tried to eat, but
neither of us could get much down and we resided ourselves to tea and
water, and me to cigarettes. As the night grew darker, the wind grew
harder. The rain was sporadic, and sleep was just a silly notion.
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| Our saggy shelter that we stayed in through the storm |
Lesson 2, Part 2
Both Travis and I are very used to
wind. Coastal winds. Steady 30 to 40mph winds with 60 to 70mph
gust, even stronger several times a year. Coastal winds, when they
hit, are constant, noisy, and as long as a tree doesn't fall on you,
kind of thrilling. The wind that blew on us that night on Crater
Lake was much different. Silence would surround us, only the sound
of the sporadic water droplet falling onto the tarp being heard. Far
below in a large gully we would hear the distant build up of wind and
it would slowly crawl towards us, its bellow growing louder and
louder until an earth shaking gust would hit is, the tarp threatening
to rip out of the trees and ground and fly hopelessly into the depths
of Crater Lake. Later we learned that the gusts had been recorded at
up to 70 mph.
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| Before nightfall, warmed up a bit. |
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| If we only knew what was to come. |
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| Poor visibility the day of the storm. |
The rest of the night was spent with
our heads inside our sleeping bags. Each time the wind would build
we would cover our heads with our arms and our muscles would clench
with anticipation of another ice chunk falling on us. Some sleep
came, interrupted by heavy winds, sudden wind blown rain, and the
fear inducing falling ice. The water had begun to soak through our
bivy sacks and both of our sleeping bags were soaked at the feet.
The cliché of the night feeling like it would never end was no
longer a cliché, but a stubborn reality.
Yet morning came with no injuries, but
also no let up of the storm. We discussed waiting the storm out, or
at least letting it subside a bit, but as the morning grew later we
made the only decision we could; pack up as fast as possible and go
as quickly as we could to keep our body heat up. Packing was
difficult, but in not much time we were back on the trail, heading
the 4 miles back to Rim Village. Rain pounded us, and the visibility
and the wind made the narrow trails extremely difficult and perilous.
The gullies built between the Rim Road and the cliffs rising above
us made a difficult yet safer track, and through the gullies we
traveled, Travis with the sled, me with the rope directing the sled
on the icy snow.
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| Escape was not possible in the weather. |
The lake, just a day earlier a
beautiful sight in the winter wonderland, was now a gray mass of
nothingness, and without knowing the lake was there, it would seem
like only a giant void in the landscape.
On we pushed, staying warm with the
effort, and in record time we made it to where we could drop to the
paved Rim Road that lead to Park Headquarters. The area had changed
greatly as the mass of people had disappeared much like the lake in
the storm. A shame at this point, since we still had a 3 mile walk
down the road to the car and desperately wanted a ride.
Heading down the road, some cars
passed, and out came our thumbs, yet no one stopped. At one point a
ride in the back of a truck, the wind trying to freeze us to death,
would have been happily accepted. Then a beautiful black mustang
went pass us, the wrong way for a ride, but several minutes later
came back and stopped. Two German men asked if we needed a ride, and
we accepted graciously. They had driven up from San Francisco to see
the lake, but were sorely disappointed with the lack of a view. We
suggested they just head to Portland and check out some breweries.
And as for lesson 2. Easy, we learned
we need to try to snowshoe around Crater Lake again, so winter of
2015/16, here we come!
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| The void that is Crater Lake. This picture was taken in the same spot as the ones above with TrailSide Adventure members Aaron and Travis. |
Authors Note: For more information on
Crater Lake, both winter and the rest of the year, visit
As well, Crater Lake offers guided
snowshoe trips. Not all around the lake, but still a good
experience. Visit:
And finally, TrailSide Adventures will
be posting more on Crater Lake Snowshoeing, including our GPS map,
mileage, and other readings.
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