Hosmer Lake, Take Two

About three weeks ago, we visited Hosmer Lake for the first time and were so taken with it that we wanted to go back, camera in hand. And what a difference three weeks makes in late summer, three more weeks without any rain as is usual for our rainless summers. Three weeks ago, the roadsides were alive with spectacular wildflowers and the fields in front of Sparks Lake were intensely lavender-purple from the acres of penstemons in bloom. This week, the flowers are done and gone.

This time, we had hoped to get an earlier start given a temperature forecast for the upper 90s, and we tried, but in the end, we still arrived around noon. This time, though, we had inflated our craft at home and so could get right on the water. One reason for the delay is that we planned to grab a quick couple of burritos from the Sol Verde food truck and take them with us, but the truck was unexpectedly closed, probably in response to the obnoxious heat. So we walked to the nearby The Lot food truck pod and grabbed a couple of smashburgers which we ended up eating there rather than taking such messy food to go.

Leaving the Boat Launch

Heading in the Direction of Mt. Bachelor

Red Elderberries, Sambucus racemosa, at the Launch

Drake Ring-Necked Duck

Trees and Rocks on Eastern Shore

One of the really great features of Hosmer Lake is that as you twist and turn through the various canals and waterways that comprise the lake, you get varied delightful views of the surrounding Cascade Mountains: Mt. Bachelor to the east, South Sister to the north, and Broken Top to the northeast. There are also smaller hills in the area such as Moolack Butte and Red Crater, but these do not catch your eye the way the 9-10,000-footers do.

Mt. Bachelor

Broken Top

South Sister

Because of the encroaching marsh plants, Hosmer Lake segments naturally into about three smaller lakes, the first at the southern end next to the boat ramp. After this, a canal snakes through rushes to a large open area containing two islands. From this largest open area, a small canal at the far western edge leads into a third open area running north-south. At the far northern end of this open expanse of water, Quinn Creek brings snow melt into the lake.

The flora varies along the lake from south to north. The west edges of the south section are lined with rushes, cattails, pondweed, and pond lilies. As you twist through the canal that these plants form, lots of birds hide in and among the vegetation. The previous time we were there, we saw a lot of Red-wing Blackbirds, this time we saw mainly Yellow-headed Blackbirds. Many female ducks were using the natural camouflage of the pondweed to hide in plain sight with their ducklings.

Yellow-Headed Blackbird

Long-Leaf Pondweed, Potamogeton nodosus

Yellow Pond Lily, Nuphar lutea

Female Ring-Necked Duck and Babies (3 Frames)

Pied-Billed Grebe

As you move into the middle section of the lake, the banks become lined with all manner of low grasses, flowers, and above all, big sections of Western Blueberries, not yet ripe, alas.

Spotted Water Hemlock, Cicuta maculata

Hooded Ladies'-Tresses, Spiranthes romanzoffiana

Bog Bilberry (Western Blueberry), Vaccinium uliginosum

Ann Doing Her Thing

At the far north end where the water is clearest and coldest and South Sister dominates the skyline, grasses containing lots of purple asters start to hem in the waterway. As the lake proper gives way to Quinn Creek, the water becomes very shallow, much swifter, and quite chilly. In this section of the lake, much less traveled than the other sections, I heard Bald Eagles, but could never pick them out of the treeline.

Speaking of trees, the eastern and northern shores, thanks in good part to the trees, see far less sun than do the more open western shores. The result is that the trees often come to the waterline and far fewer marsh plants crowd the shoreline.

Beautiful Clouds over South Sister

American Bistort, Bistorta bistortoides

Grass and Asters, Symphotrichum sp., up Quinn Creek

I paddled in my kayak about halfway up the creek to the falls when I realized that Ann was not behind me and wasn't coming my way, so I went back to find her, merrily paddling about on her SUP. On the way back, a mother Ring-necked Duck let me drift fairly close to her brood.

After Ann and I rendezvoused back in the middle and largest open expanse of the lake, we had drifted towards the eastern shore closest to Mt. Bachelor. As we started to head back to the car, I spied the unmistakable snow white head of a Bald Eagle on a log about 20 yards ashore. As I let the kayak drift towards shore, I could hear the quite animated calls of another eagle, a set of calls that I do not recall having heard before.

As I was photographing the eagle (hard to hold a decent manual focus through the grass in the foreground while the wind is moving the kayak about), the calls accelerated and another eagle hove into sight coming from our left. The all-dark eagle, clearly a fledgling but already full-grown with a massive wingspan, circled the adult once or twice and then landed on another log down in the weeds, just below the adult.

After a few minutes, the adult eagle flew off to join another adult north across the lake, leaving junior to hop up to the spot where the adult was and call and call. Ultimately, the young eagle took off across the way and joined the two adults. I have this idea that the adult eagle was giving the young eagle flight practice by flying away and making the baby join it.

Baby Eagle to Right on Ground

Baby Eagle

Purple Marshlocks, Comarum palustre

A Bluet Damselfly

Camouflage at Work: Mallards Hiding in Plain Sight

Parting Shot

After 3.5 hours on the lake, we were ready to be done and paddled our way back to the boat launch, making sure that all our unused paddling muscles were getting a good workout.

While we were at the lake, it was a fairly pleasant 84-85 degrees up at 5000 feet of elevation and especially comfortable when the sun hazed over for a few minutes. We drove back to Bend with the windows down and we could feel the temperature increase with every little decrease in elevation. The fairly reliable thermometer in my truck read 97F when we pulled into the parking lot at Silver Moon Brewery in downtown Bend. Welcome back to civilization!