June Lake

If it's called June Lake then why did I hike it in August? Or, if I hiked it in August, then why isn't it called August Lake? Probably because I don't matter when it comes to naming geographical stuff. Besides which, that would also give the lake a moving target name-wise, depending on which month the lake gets visited. Anyway, nonsensical ramblings from your merry blogster aside, I made two August sorties to June Lake: once to scout the route and once to lead a Friends of the Umpqua venture there.

Little Timpanogas Lake

The route to the trailhead is a long and convoluted drive on dusty gravel roads encroached by scratchy vegetation. Part of the scouting trip's purpose was simply to remember how to get there. Once there, most hikers begin hiking at nearby Timpanogas Lake and continue on to Indigo Lake with good reason, for the small lake resides below Sawtooth Peak in a spectacular setting worthy of National Geographic. As a result, forlorn June Lake does not get nearly as much trail love from the hiking crowd. But hey, that's OK with me because June Lake is a beautiful mountain lake in its own right, nestled in a lake basin surrounded by forest. On the plus side, you are not likely to see very many hikers on the trail or at the peaceful lake.

This way or that way, or all of the above

In keeping with the avoidance of people theme, I parked not at busy Timpanogas Lake but at the lonely Middle Fork Trail, so named because Timpanogas Lake is the source of the Middle Fork Willamette River. In fact, the trail follows the nascent river downstream for about 35 miles or so, a backpack trip that is on my radar for some future epic. But today, I went upstream for a short utilitarian walk to the June Lake Trail, sideswiping scenic Little Timpanogas Lake as I did so.

Prince's pine flowered on the forest floor

In this locale, the most visited lakes are Timpanogas, Little Timpanogas, June, and Indigo. However, lakes Opal, Amos, and Andy are nearby, along with dozens upon dozens of little ponds and stagnant wet spots not worthy of a name. Naturally, with all this standing water just loitering in the area, it stands to reason there would be a healthy and vibrant population of mosquitos clogging up the airways, so to speak, and they were only too glad to see me. Even though I applied plenty of Deet, they still managed to find those hard to reach places like that particular spot behind the armpit that you just can’t bend your arm enough to get to.

There's lots of forest and mosquitoes between all the lakes

The trail to June Lake inclined uphill from Little Timpanogas Lake as it it went up and over a broad forested ridge in the course of several miles. At one spot, a brief view of the impressive Middle Fork Willamette canyon was offered up at an opening in the trees. But mostly there were no views, just a bunch of trees and one lone hiker doing battle with the winged insect vermin swarming all around him like a black cloud of wicked coal dust motes.

June Lake, from my aborted bushwhack around the lake

Just past a trail intersection with the tie-in trail to Indigo Lake, the track dropped steadily for over a mile before arriving at June Lake. My map showed a trail circumnavigating the lake and that seemed a good way to tack some mileage onto a shortish six mile hike, so around the lake I attempted to go. That worked only for about another half-mile when the path unceremoniously ended in the brush. I briefly entertained the notion of bushwhacking around the shore anyway but after about ten unpleasant yards of flailing at brush and mosquitoes both, that notion was summarily abandoned. 

Another sign we are on the right track

Scouting trip mission accomplished, several days later I returned with John, Joe, and Coreena in tow for the official hike. After a few pointed barbs about the long and rough road were slung in my direction, we set out on the trail and walked a lot quicker than I had done a few days prior. I didn’t take as many photos this time out just so I could keep up with this hardy crew. Amazingly, even though this hike was just three days later, there was a noticeable decrease in the amount of mosquitoes I had to contend with on the scouting trip. Most unfair! Lunch was eaten at peaceful June Lake before we headed back the way we came.

Postcard view at Indigo Lake

However, instead of returning to the trailhead, we opted to hike over to Indigo Lake for the sole purpose of oohing and aahing at the magnificent postcard view of Sawtooth Peak looming over the lake. On the way out, we made a perfunctory visit to Timpanogas Lake, turning this hike into a four-laker.

Timpanogas Lake

Because of my inane calendar-related blog intro, I did do a little bit of calendar research on the Internet. Apparently 2020 is the Year of the Rat, according to the Chinese Calendar. Fitting to be sure, because 2020 has so far been ever so ratlike. Taking individual months into consideration, then certainly August should be Month of the Mosquito. But honestly, Rat Lake doesn't sound all that inviting and Mosquito Lake(s) are a dime a dozen in Oregon. June Lake sounds nice, neat, and concise just as is, so we’ll leave the name exactly the way we found it.

Celestial bodies

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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June Lake

When Issiah and I had hiked to Indigo Lake the weekend before, we passed straight through the junction with the June Lake Trail. A half-hearted attempt was made to persuade Issiah to hike to the lake but that was pretty much a fail. He wasn't having any of that, especially after being told he was going to get ice cream on the way home. In retrospect, I perhaps should have used the ice cream as an enticement before we continued past the trail junction and not just have told him we'd stop for ice cream with no precondtions. Well, I'd never been to June Lake and I still wanted to go, as it is becoming increasingly hard to find a relatively nearby trail that I've never been on before. 

Blue sky on a hazy day

There were a number of wildfires burning south of Roseburg and the smoke had been pretty thick down in the 'burg. I was slated to lead a hike to Sawtooth Peak but when nary a hiker showed up, that freed me up to follow my hiking muse to June Lake instead. Conditions were fairly smoky so I headed up the North Umpqua Highway with low expectations about the quality of air I'd be breathing. However, once up the gravel road climbing away from Lemolo Lake, the air cleared up noticeably and lungs were grateful. While never completely smoke free, at least the sky was blue which it had not been for most of the drive.

First sight of Little Timpanogas Lake

A revisit to Indigo Lake was in order, if only for the extra miles to satisfy those who are mileage addicted like your merry blogster. And for extra extra miles, I parked on Forest Road 2154 and came in on the Middle Fork Trail. Little Timpanogas Lake is the source of the Middle Fork Willamette River and the short hike from the trailhead took longer than it should have, thanks to some amply laden huckleberry bushes growing along the trail. Normally, the huckleberry bushes get picked clean by passing hikers, but on a little-used trail there are millions of unharvested berries to tempt berry hounds.

Twisted stalk fruits dangle in the sun

Above Little Timpanogas Lake, there was a trail junction with the tie-in to the June Lake Trail. I didn't realize there was a tie-in (short-cut) to June Lake from Little Timpanogas Lake and the trail was not on my map so onward to Indigo Lake it was. Best to go with the familiar and the extra miles that come with it.

Indigo Lake, again

Indigo Lake was not as spectacular as the week before, mostly because there was a noticeable smoky haze in the air. But at least the sky was blue, so no complaining allowed, it had been dirty brown in town earlier in the morning. At Indigo Lake, I grabbed the trail that sort of circumnavigated the small and scenic lake. I say sort of, because at the far end of the lake, where it abuts the rocky base of Sawtooth Peak, you have to rock hop across boulders deposited by the rugged mountain over time immemorial. When I arrived at the rockpile, a father and son were there, debating the wisdom of scrambling through the rocks so I had them follow me across.

Autumn's first blush

Once the Indigo Lake circumnavigation was dispensed with, a quick retreat down the path brought me to the junction with the June Lake Trail. From here on in, it would be all new trail for me. Of course, the new trail was miles and miles of viewless forest but on the plus side, there were more huckleberries to graze upon. In a sure sign that summer was coming to an end, the bushes were displaying the first colors of autumn.

Bee all you can bee

After several miles of hiking and grazing, there was another trail junction to figure out. It was my old friend, the tie-in trail from Little Timpanogas Lake, coming in from the right. We (my imaginary friend and I) were going to June Lake and a left turn commenced a long descent to the lake, which was somewhat alarming because all that elevation loss would surely have to be gained on the way back.

June Lake

My preconception of June Lake was that of a small lake bordering on pond status, similar to Little Timpanogas Lake. But no, June Lake is fairly large and would make an ideal weekend backpack destination without the crowds so prevalent at Indigo Lake. A family of five was doing that very thing and Mom and Dad are hereby nominated as Parents of the Year for getting their kids out on a backpack trip.

Uphill, in the warm sun

After a lunch and photo shoot, it was trudge, trudge, trudge uphill back to the Indigo Lake Trail junction. In keeping with the new-trail theme of today's hike, I continued straight on the tie-in trail. The route ran mostly through shaded forest which was greatly appreciated, seeing as how the day had warmed up, and besides which, there were still berries to be eaten. A quad-burning ascent was followed by a knee-straining descent down to Little Timpanogas Lake, followed by the short hike out the Middle Fork Trail. I kind of decided I really liked this hike and I'll be back again, probably with a backpack on and grandchildren in tow. I'll also try to be more strategic about mentioning ice cream.

A berry worthwhile hike

For more photos of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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Windy Pass Trail

The mountains call after the long winter layoff. Invariably, restless hikers will attempt a hike in the Cascades when the clime is hot and summery in the Umpqua Valley, only to find out the mountains are still undergoing some version of winter weather. I thought I'd be smart and hold out for another month but then Edwin called and I said, almost reflexively, "Ok sure, I'll go with you!" And that is the story of how I came to hike the Windy Pass Trail on an early June day.

Nothing but blue skies...for now

The basic plan was to hike from Timpanogas Lake to Cowhorn Mountain. However, a winter storm was blowing in with snowfall predicted so we had a most-of-the-day window of opportunity. But just in case, winter gear was stowed into daypacks before Edwin, John, and I set out from the lake. Although a chill breeze was moving cool air around as we set out, the day was initially sunny and totally at odds with the predicted forecast.

Rodent house, also known as Timpanogas Snow Shelter

A quarter of a mile along Timpanogas Lake's shoreline, lies the Timpanogas Snow Shelter and we stopped by to check it out. You never know when you might want to snowshoe to the lake and spend the night! During the summer, the resident rodentia are only too happy to scurry across sleeping camper's faces and raid their packs. At any rate, after our cursory visit to the shelter, we scurried ousrselves onto the Windy Pass Trail heading up to the Pacific Crest Trail.

One of several small ponds along the trail

Ah, uphill hiking is so much fun and soon our leg muscles were burning in unhappy companionship to that activity. We passed by a number of small ponds and lakelets, all coated with a film of tree pollen. Mosquitoes came by to visit, probably freshly hatched from the aforementioned ponds and lakelets. However, their numbers were not yet up to the usual summery multitudes, thankfully.

Orange peel fungus

We continued to angle upward through a forest of homogeneous trees, all covered with fuzzy moss like so many giant unshaven legs. There wasn't much vegetation underneath the trees but there were plenty of orange peel fungi sprouting alongside the trail like brightly colored doll cups. Periodically, there'd be a break in the trees and we enjoyed views of Sawtooth Mountain when that happened. Hidden by the forest, Amos and Andy Lakes lay below us somewhere, but we did get a glimpse of a lake which may have been one of the watery siblings. And then snow became an issue.

Edwin ponders the mystery of the disappearing trail

We had started hiking at 5,200 feet of altitude, at Timpanogas Lake, and had worked our way up to about 6,200 feet when the trail ran under a small snow drift. It wasn't too daunting, for we could see the trail continuing on the other side of the drift. But as we continued to hike, the drifts became more frequent and larger, really putting our route-finding skills to the test. Between my GPS and John and Edwin's stubbornness, we would find a piece of the trail and thus, were always able to continue.

Yup, this is the trail

I wasn't feeling all that walky on this day and found the hiking in soft snow to be quite tedious and before long, my quads were burning in quiet agony. At the point where my GPS said we were at the intersection with the Windy Pass Trail and the tie-in trail to the Pacific Crest Trail (and Windy Pass itself), I called it, or "wussed out" as John and Edwin termed my departure. They wanted to reach the PCT at least so we parted ways and I headed back down to snow-free environs.

At the wrong pond

On the way down, I hit a walking rhythm, which is easy to do when walking downhill. I stopped at a small pond that for some reason did not look familiar. After taking some pictures, I continued on the trail, which looked faint, sketchy, and even less familiar than the unfamiliar pond. Out came the GPS and I ascertained I had walked past the intersection with the trail leading to Timpanogas Lake. A slight backtrack was executed and I  soon found myself on familiar trail again.

Incoming bad weather

By now, clouds had scudded over and blotted out the sun. A breeze picked up and the temperature began dropping faster than a roller coaster in free fall. The predicted snowstorm was arriving, although any precipitation at this point was just raindrops here and there. After I consumed lunch and a small bottle of wine at the trailhead while slapping at mosquitoes, Edwin and John showed up and we quickly hightailed it out of there. They had made it to Cowhorn Mountain but then decided to turn back without summitting the craggy peak because the wind had picked up and it was uncomfortably cold. Despite the not so-summery hiking conditions, it felt good to be back in the Cascades after the long winter layoff.

Timpanogas Lake, as the storm rolled in

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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