

The rim’s powerful presence was like a guard over the alkali lake. Abert Rim loomed high above us as we sought a wider view of Lake Abert. We wondered, what was the true cost of cattle ranching on this land? How could we go deeper and understand the tenuous balance of this ecosystem?įollowing our stop in Paisley, we transitioned north to Highway 395. The lack of pastures was a peculiar contrast to the greener regions in Central Oregon. We passed a large cattle ranch operation where herds were trekking through dust, congregating near piles of hay. In the morning, we enjoyed coffee watching a peachy sunrise behind our tent, planning another soak in the hot springs before packing and heading down the highway to the little town of Paisley for a meal. Their playful yells called attention to nocturnal life-more to be appreciated. During the night, we listened to a pack of coyotes as they traversed the dark land, greeting the cattle at a ranch a few miles away. The sparkle of single stars eventually transformed into the long glow of the Milky Way. That evening, we enjoyed a warm soak in the steaming pools until the first stars began to wink at us. The Summer Lake basin is a sacred place to local Indigenous tribes, and we began to feel the quiet majesty and a desire to conserve it, and precious water is at the heart of its survival. As we gazed toward the horizon, through the dusty haze, we could see the faint shimmer of water, but could not estimate how far away the lake began, as water scarcity changed its perimeter and threatened its ecosystem. We followed a small path, which descended from dirt mounds and dried washes. The rattlesnake was a good reminder to stay watchful as we walked toward the lake bed. Our dogs were curious, but we kept them away from the reptile, allowing it to pass through. As we approached the path, a juvenile Western rattlesnake slid past us carefully. Once parking our truck near our camp spot, we decided to walk to the 15-mile-long alkali lake bed.
#Back of my mind cracked#
When we arrived at the rustic bathhouse in front of Summer Lake, pale dust clouds whirled across the bed as heat radiated onto the cracked earth and dried cheatgrass. We hoped that we would see other wildlife, although we became unsure of that when we saw what drought and extensive water usage had done to the land. Winter Ridge, dappled with snow, towered over the Summer Lake basin as we continued down the highway closer to the wildlife refuge. A small group of pronghorn antelope grazed casually near an old farmhouse their pretty tan patterns and perked ears caught our eyes as we drove past.

The weather was perfect sunny and 60s with a breeze. My partner Katie, a carpenter, is also an avid outdoors lover, and together we enjoy road trips and exploring all parts of the Pacific Northwest, and especially the desert.Īs we left the hustle of Bend, we watched the change from verdant pastures and ponderosa pines to a nearly treeless expanse under a bright blue heaven. Something about the desert continues to call me over and over again. I work in healthcare, and being in nature helps me heal and decompress. We were in an impressionable state of mind, as we drove south on Highway 31 toward Summer Lake Hot Springs this past March. Author: Medina Glenn | Published: J| Category: My Desert Adventure
