On Sunday June 21, 2009, we started at the most amazing trail head that I’ve ever seen. The spring-fed Little Crater Lake is 45-feet deep and less than 100 feet in diameter, and it remains a steady 40ish degrees Fahrenheit all year long. Brrr. Unfortunately, in my picture you can’t really see how clear and deep the water is because of the rain.
We decided to take the trail towards Salmon Creek. There were lots of interesting mushrooms along the way. Mostly Amanitas and false Morels. We also saw a beautiful Reishi mushroom.
We found bonus beauty in this hike by stepping through some clear cut to visit the far-off meadow you could barely see from the trail. We couldn’t frolic in the meadow because it was a swampy buggy thing. As a matter of fact, there were still ponds and puddles everywhere with plenty of mosquitoes that swarmed the second you stopped moving.
It was a nice hike that would have been nicer had it not rained. We probably did around 8 miles in a few hours. We forgot our picnic blanket, so we didn’t really eat our lunch while we were hiking like we usually do. We don’t usually remember the blanket, but when the ground is wet, a picnic is the last thing on your mind. We used to bring wine or beer with us, but found it way too hard to get up and hike more after drinking. Sometimes it’s actually a little dangerous.
I should preface this next part with the fact that I sometimes hallucinate when I’m tired. This just is what it is. I was vaguely looking at the car parked next to our pickup as we hoofed the last hundred feet, and I thought out loud, it’s funny how a woman looks naked from a distance when she’s wearing a peach shirt…oh wait, she IS naked. I guess we interrupted a hot, heavy and very naked session when we returned to our car. But really people, when there are empty campgrounds around, why would you go and park in a parking lot next to a car? Next to the only car in the lot as a matter of fact. Clothes were flying everywhere, butts were diving back into the back seat as we averted our eyes (or tried to avert our eyes) and opened our car.
I can think of a million different ways to do it outside and not get caught or be stuck in a lousy car. You just need to keep your pants zipped up long enough to walk around and find a good romantic place with sunlight streaming through the coniferous branches. A car is not romantic at all. Maybe the old ’57 Chevys were more romantic and roomier, but cars nowadays are not. People spend far too much time in cars creating a feeling of solitude, but you’re not alone in your car. People can see you.