The instant I laid eyes on them, Lake Chelan, Stehekin, and the North Cascades National Park automatically catapulted to the top of my favorites list for this summer. Each is brilliant, breathtaking, captivating… truly magical.
After leaving Garrett in Salem, for the first time we stuffed all three of us into the cab of Toby’s 80’s Ford diesel (F250?). We got a big bite out of our Lake Chelan drive before stopping at a campground near Multnomah Falls (Oregon’s tallest and quite famous) off of I-84. When the boat is on a trailer, it’s more like an RV. Toby is very particular when it comes to his personal comfort. His insistence on his hammock set-up ended up being convenient, as it left the two spots in the cockpit open for Nathan and I. Shortly after ten, we tossed a tarp over the boom to ward off any of the ubiquitous Oregon rains that might materialize and snuggled into our sleeping bags for the night.
We awoke under the canopy of Oregon’s “jurassic” forests (they really do make you feel like dinosaurs are just around the corner)! Not to break character, I rolled out first and early to race along the trails outside the campground and then stumbled upon – SHOWERS!! When you’re on the road camp-style, finding a shower is similar to stumbling across a $20 on the sidewalk in your every day life. We tried to fit a visit to Multnomah in, but it was clear parking a truck and trailer was going to be a non-option. We settled for a quick photo taken in the middle of the road!
True to form, our trio turned what could have been a thirty minute stop into a two hour foray. We spent over an hour in The Dalles’ Fred Meyer parking lot epoxying something-or-other, drying out clothes, remembering other things on the shopping list, etc. Ridiculous. And totally par for the course. This put us in Chelan (the town at the foot of the lake) right around sunset – 9 p.m.-ish this time of year. We did as much re-con as we could before heading up to find camping. Side story: we are quite the picture. Our combined styles of dress, vehicle, boat, etc. don’t quite add up. We’re like a teenage boy who doesn’t know that stripes, red, polka dots, green, plaid, and platform shoes don’t really go together. The best “look” we got was while obtaining ‘boat gas’ in Chelan. Need to know: 1) Chelan is a resort town – think Tahoe or Vail. 2) our boat gas system is janky – fill container one with measuring capabilities, add to container two to mix additive, continue doing math possibly involving container three. Repeat. As we were working our magic on the gas, this brand new Mercedes Benz with two sixty-something country-club type people pulled in. After seeing back seat Ms. Snooty’s lips clearly say to her companions, “What are those people DOING?!” they decided to go to another gas station. Hilarious!
Finding camping turned into a hallmark story a week later. It all started when Nathan and I agreed it would be silly to pay to camp. We didn’t need any facilities, it was late so we’d be straight to bed, we were getting up early to launch the boat, and campgrounds are far less pleasant than your own little cozy pull-out on a country road. Toby, however, didn’t see it this way. For him, it was late, we didn’t know our way around, and any pullout – including ones we had seen on our way to the launch point – would require re-con and more driving. This classic two-against-one scenario would repeat itself again and again over the next few weeks. Anyway, Nathan and I prevailed in the face of Toby’s extreme irritation and landed a gorgeous spot in the National Forest overlooking a river valley under pine trees!
The morning run left my quads aching for days as I unintentionally ended up running hills – all the way down to the bottom of the river valley, up the other side, and back again. It was gorgeous! We were quite the show in camp, as all of us have committed to our fitness on the road. Push-ups, ab work using rocks as weights, substituting our five gallon bucket for a yoga ball, grabbing boat cushions for sit-up mats – all amongst the sage brush under the trees!
Our launch was lengthy (of course) and uneventful. Eventually we were under way in a gentle breeze – perfect for practicing maneuvers, soaking up the sun, and reading my book. Chelan is a 55 mile long lake carved by glaciers. It’s basically like sailing up a wide, pristine, canyon on dazzling blue waters that plunge over 1,400 feet to the lake floor. The lake drops off almost immediately, so there are no beaches, really. Just rocks along the shore that give way to 20 foot drop-offs. It’s breathtaking! And did I mention the water is freezing? Oh yeah, and after our launch point at Twenty-five Mile Creek, there are no roads in or out. Communities, yes. Roads to the outside world? No.
We spent the night a Graham Harbor – a tiny pullout along the lake. Four men were having their 30th annual high-school reunion and had taken over the best tables and fire pits for their shenanigans.
The morning didn’t deliver the breezes we had hoped for, so I enjoyed more sunbathing as we lazed our way up the lake. We stopped at the intense, gushing Domke Falls (like a Brit might say Donkey) for lunch with an impressive view.
Twenty minutes later, we got the wind we’d been wishing for and then some. Soon we were sailing through the most intense weather Toby and Nathan had seen in Lhungta. The nearly gale-force winds blew straight down the lake into our faces, covering us in spray as we crashed through three and four foot waves. Tacking back and forth was nerve-racking as we slammed from side to side. Each tack felt like we would tip the sailboat into the water for sure as we scrambled from high side to high side. What did I sign up for?! It was clear just how bad it was when Nathan-the-risk-taker started saying we should think about turning around. This time the two-against-one was Toby and I insisting that we were almost to our destination. When we finally landed at Refrigerator Harbor, the boater/campers who watched us come in couldn’t wait to tell us how crazy they thought we were!
As we set up camp on the remarkably calm shore, we could see the mast of the boat tipping back and forth like an out-of-control metronome. We explored the cave formerly used to keep mining dynamite cool back in the day before making dinner and joining our buddies – let’s call them Chad and Eric, local boys up camping – at the campfire. There was also a little lake-shore community a quarter-mile from the campground. The caretaker joined us at the fire, a classic “old guy” plying us with tales of his Vietnam days. In the morning, due to fierce winds, we decided to stay another day at Refrigerator Harbor. We had a relaxing morning before hiking up to Domke Lake for a picnic. The lake is big enough to land a float plane and has one “full-time” resident who stays nine-months a year with his horses, dirt bike to get up and down, cabin, and various outbuildings. We also hiked toward Emerald Lake swatting mosquitoes through the swampy areas until we reached a creek we couldn’t cross.
The only events that night were meeting the local volunteer ranger and his friends up to visit, and Nathan trying to kill himself with the pressure cooker (how else are we going to make killer food in camp?!). We turned in early with an agreement to be on the lake no later than 6:30 a.m. to beat the winds up the lake. We made it to Stehekin at the head of the lake by 8:30! Finally!
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