Day 11: Speedy Sunset Paddle in East Sound, Orcas Island

I slept in a couple hours longer than Sara to try and rid myself of a standard migraine (which usually lasts through 2 or 3pm the next day). Around 10:30 we headed into town (Eastsound) for some coffee ands discovered pistachio fig chocolates and mint ice cream. Mmmm breakfast! At a little park on the north end of East Sound, Sara made some phone calls to work and Southwest baggage. Southwest informed her that her second bag, which contained all of her camping/hiking/running gear, was considered permanently lost. Southwest agreed to reimburse her for the cost of the items, with depreciation, but it’s not clear exactly what that means. It’s a sad day :(

We made a stop to the grocery co-op where I purchased bulk spices in tiny bags, perfect for camping (each bag was ~25 cents!). Our Mexican-style veggies/beans/couscous will be twice as delicious tonight. Now I’m sitting by Cascade Lake in Moran State Park, only a mile or so from our campsite, while Sara hikes to some waterfalls nearby and I try to rid myself of this lovely headache. 

My blogging view

Next morning update: After Sara returned from her hike we made an excellent lunch-dinner of toasted pine nut couscous with sautéed onions, peppers, squash, and kale with black beans and spices. 

We relaxed on our respective picnic table benches for a while to digest before getting our butts in gear to go kayaking. We selected Cascade Bay, at Rosario Point as our put-in location. Naturally, we made a quick ice cream stop at Lopez Island Creamery and had some amazing Toffee Coffee and Rocky Road deliciousness. Cascade Bay is half way down East Sound and only a 5 minute drive from our campsite. We launched around 6:20pm and paddled south along the east shore. 

Cascade Bay launch beach

An hour later we were very energized (thanks, ice cream!) and decided to aim for the point at the mouth of the Sound. As with many points, we discovered another one… and another one… after it until we finally reached the bottom of the island. We turned the corner and got another view of Mt. Baker. There was a breeze, but there was little to no current. A time check showed that we had been paddling for 1.5 hrs, and would only get back to the launch site by ~9:20pm, after dark. We turned around and booked it back up the shore. Shortly after turning around we saw some splashes in the distance that we assumed were seals. Minutes later I saw a seals head pop up in front of Sara’s kayak. The next time it popped up it had a dorsal fin! The porpoise surfaced a few more times as it swam away from us. Another marine mammal spotted!

We chased the sunset along the island’s western hills until we arrived back at the launch site around 8:50pm. As always, the moment we started stripping in the parking lot 4 families came walking towards us from all directions. We drove back to the campground with Sara’s favorite country song on the radio. “Swarms of adolescents,” as Sara would call them, were wandering the campground roads. This week the park is hosting a cross-country running camp that clearly reserved every site on the island except ours. We showered, reorganized the car in anticipation of our early departure the next morning, read, and went to bed by 11.

Date: Tuesday, July 29th 2014

Distance: 9 miles

Duration: 2.5 hrs

Day 10: Sunset Paddle with Mt. Baker and a Hike up Mt. Constitution

Monday morning we “slept in” and made a dinner-breakfast of spaghetti with tomato sauce, supplemented with mushrooms and chard – yum! Sara and I packed up our tents and left camp earlier than the rest of the crew. Everyone else was headed back to Anacortes later that morning, but we were headed to Orcas Island to continue the second half of our San Juan Islands trip. Even after multiple calls to the Southwest Airlines baggage counter (at 3 different airports), there was no indication that Sara’s two checked bags would be delivered, so we headed into Friday Harbor to replace some of the lost items. A 45-minute shopping spree later, Sara was the proud owner of some new chacos, underoos, paddling gloves, and other items. We made the usual stops for water, ice, and coffee before boarding the inter-island ferry. The ferry from San Juan Island to Orcas Island took ~1 hour, during which I wrote postcards and Sara enjoyed the warm sun on the deck.

Orcas Island is shaped like an upside-down U, with the ferry terminal on the west end and Moran State Park (our campground) on the east side. During our drive we stopped at Eastsound, at the inland end of East Sound (the water body that makes the island look like a U). We stopped in at the first kayaking shop we encountered and purchased a map of the island. One of the employees was incredibly helpful and marked all the launch sites around the island, explaining which would require checking the tides and which are generally current-less. He even gave us their phone number in case we wanted to call for a weather update. Upon arriving at Moran State Park, the check-in lady gave us some hiking recommendations that we pursued after setting up camp. We settled on a 6.7 mile loop that starts at Mountain Lake (a couple miles from our campsite), moves steeply up Mount Constitution past Summit Lake, drops again to Twin Lakes, and meanders back along the west side of Mountain Lake. The views from the top of Mt. Constitution were stellar – the day was perfectly clear and we had nearly 360 degree views of the San Juan Islands and more distant mountain ranges. Snowy Mount Baker was most prominent on the horizon:

The deep and crystal clear waters of Mountain Lake beckoned us upon our return to the car, so we jumped in to refresh ourselves before driving to the northern-most point of the Island (end of North Beach Road) to go for a sunset paddle. Unlike in California, the beaches here are not necessarily public. At the end of the road was a narrow parking lot fronted by a cobble beach with views of the Cascades to the left and Mount Baker to the right. Signs marked private property on either side of the very small public beach. We perched ourselves on a large driftwood log (abundant in these islands) to have a lunch-dinner of pitas with the usual veggie/hummus toppings, complete with honey-topped saltines for dessert. 

We were saddened by the private property signs

Stuffed with delicious food, we speedily unloaded Big Purple and Renaldo onto the increasingly crowded beach (it was empty when we arrived). After a brief mishap that resulted in Renaldo dumping Sara into the water (thank god for the wetsuit!), we were headed east along the shore. It was 7:20pm, so the sun was still high in the sky. We paddled towards snowy Mt. Baker, with glassy waters all around. A seal splashed in distance, and small jumping fish greeted us every stroke of the way. We continued to the northeast point of the island, where we spent a few minutes having a photo shoot in what might be the most scenic view I've ever experienced in my kayak. 

Paddling towards Mt. Baker

The sun was still blazing at our backs, so turning around wasn't an option (way too painful on the eyeballs). Instead, we hugged the shady parts of shore and turned into a small rocky beach where Sara searched for colorful pebbles and I took a “nap” in my boat. When the sky began to turn orange and the sun’s intensity dropped, we started heading back, witnessing a gorgeous sunset along the way. Mt. Baker evolved to different shades of purple and orange behind us. After the sun went down, the mountain ranges turned different shades of blue, grey, and purple, and Sara noted that this looked like every postcard she'd seen. 

Rocky point where we stopped to wait for the sun

Back at the beach, we quickly loaded the boats and wet gear into the car, with one bystanding biker expressing his love for Renaldo. Sadly, my head was pounding from a migraine, so we headed straight back to the campsite (#112) with only a quick stop to pick up water and a wine opener. Sara enjoyed an evening of showering, reading, and red wine, and I went immediately to bed!

Date: Monday, July 28th 2014

Distance: 3 miles

Duration: 1.5 hrs?

Lewiston Lake: The Annual Freshwater Paddle

Let me introduce you to Alice, my wonderful Bay Area kayaking buddy. She wrote this guest post about our quick trip up to Lewiston Lake over Memorial Day weekend. We also paddled on Whiskeytown Lake, which you can read about here. The last time we paddled on freshwater was at Clear Lake in June 2013, so this was quite refreshing!

After dilly dallying waterside at the Berkeley Marina (Nena had just completed a heroic game of kayak water polo and we were watching the more advanced paddlers warm up), Nena and I left the Bay’s sparkling waters for the heat of mid CA. At first it didn’t feel like it made sense to leave such pleasant weather behind because the Bay was so glorious, but it was cool to travel through so many climate zones- arid, agricultural, mountains and valleys. My camping book guided us just north of Whiskeytown Lake to Lewiston Lake, where we nabbed the final walk-in site at the end of the loop, hugging the southwestern side of the lake.

Lewiston Lake view, facing south, from a short hike we did before our paddle.

We were struck by the beauty and calm of Lewiston Lake and were pretty pumped to get on some fresh water, but after a 4+ hour car ride, we opted to stretch our legs first and kayak around part of the lake’s 15 miles of shoreline. We saw some amazing blue flowers and some cool butterflies. Apparently blackberry bushes line the lake, but we were a little early for those.

Eager to paddle before sunset, we unloaded our boats and launched into the water from the parking lot's rocky slope. The wind seemed to pick up just as we set out on our mini paddle. We hugged the shore, heading towards the dam that separates Trinity and Lewiston Lakes. Nena was in heaven to be on a lake and I was too; so much that I lost my Native sunglasses while reenacting a whitewater event. I leaned back, hit my back deck, and felt my glasses bounce off my head. They spiraled slowly down into the lake’s depths. We accepted their fate, and continued on, noticing fish jumping and pretty wildflowers growing off of the rock slopes. 

Alice, with sunglasses

Lewiston Lake felt more like a fishing destination than a paddling one, but it was beautiful, and with a motor craft speed limit of10 mph, it was pretty peaceful. As we paddled by a Marina, the lake turned into more of a riverine environment, and we noticed some marsh mazes and cool tufts of grass sprouting up intermittently - a scene from The Lorax. We took shelter from the wind in the grasses, and headed into the more lake-like area along the other side of the reservoir and behind a tall hill slope that jutted out and cast a shadow from the wind. The return was wearisome, as the wind continued, but we invented strategies to pull through it, such as closing ones eyes while paddling (surprisingly fun), paddling backwards, and singing.

These grassy tufts reminded me of the Lorax and Nena of Wilson, the volleyball

Beaver dam!

We made it back before dark, but considerations of practicing rolling or swimming were dashed as the temperature dropped and our stomachs grumbled. We decided to forego a campfire, ate dinner in the (scenic) parking lot, and surrendered to quiet/sleepy time. I ventured out of my tent in hopes of glancing a few straggling shooting stars from the meteor shower the night before. Instead, I dozed off while watching the gorgeous sky full of stars through my tent fly, no meteors in sight… All in all, a pretty relaxing spot, a great paddle, and good camping that all lead up to the larger lake that followed: Whiskeytown!

Date: Sunday, May 25th
Distance: ~ 6 miles
Time: 2 hrs?

Clear Lake: Boiling water, volcanoes, Bambi, and gnats.

Clear Lake, in Lake County, California, has been on my to-paddle list since I discovered it on a map and learned about its fascinating history a few months ago. More than a few friends responded with apathy at visiting the lake, alluding to its reputation for motorboats, rednecks, and water quality issues. While I certainly love a remote, undeveloped lake, I also enjoy exploring other flavors of paddling! Alice agreed to make the long day trip. We left the Bay at noon, drove about 2.5 hours (after each "meeting" at a different park-n-ride in Novato), and put our boats on the water around 4pm. Within 5 minutes we jumped out of our boats to refresh, ignoring the algal bloom that filled the water around us.

Stopped for chocolate milk on the way to Clear Lake. Photo by Alice Miller.

We launched from Lakeside Park, which is on the southwest side of the lake. It's a free county park where we could leave our cars after sunset (unlike Clear Lake State Park). There were some big swarms of "Clear Lake Gnats," which apparently hatch during this season and used to be a major pest. According to Wikipedia, the swarms were so thick before the 1940s that people would have to stop every 1/4 mile to wipe gnats off the windshields of cars (this is surprising since cars probably didn't go as fast as they do today). Control efforts involving DDD during the 1940's and '50s killed many birds (Western grebe) on the lake. Today the gnats are kept under control by two fish species that provide competition for food (zooplankton). [How do gnats eat plankton? Crazy]

Leaving the dock at Lakeside Park.

Apparently Clear Lake is one of the oldest lakes in North America. It used to be much larger and flow into to the Russian River, but volcanic eruptions and landslides severed that connection. Today the main outlet is Cache Creek, which is now controlled by Cache Creek Dam. A few dormant volcanos surround the lake, making for an interesting skyline. The Sulfur Bank Mine, once one of the largest mercury producers in world, is located on the east side of the lake. It is now a Superfund site (and historical landmark), and has led to very high mercury contamination in Clear Lake.

Hot springs in the middle of Soda Bay! Look closely at the base of the red rock to the right and you can see the springs bubbling up.

We paddled around Clear Lake State Park and into Soda Bay, where we encountered an unusual island (see photo above) of bright orange rocks. As we approached, the area between the rocks seemed to be boiling. There are a number of vent holes around Soda Bay, with the deepest (~100 feet) acting as nurseries for juvenile catfish. In the early 1900's these baths were built up and connected to shore by a walkway (destroyed by a fire in 1940).

A quick stop at the Country Store for a failed beer run.

We crossed over from Soda Bay to a narrow peninsula. The wind and waves picked up significantly in this exposed stretch, and made for some unexpected excitement. On the way back we were craving some cold beers and pulled over at the Country Store, which was in a shadier part of the bay. By the time we entered the air conditioned store we were quite chilly (not having brought extra layers) and no longer craved beers, so we munched some almonds and went on our way. :)

Alice paddling into the sunset

In summary, Clear Lake is a lake with many troubles, but also many unique and interesting stories and sights. I've been craving a long paddle on a big lake, and Clear Lake was perfect for that. We did not encounter the droves of motor boats that were predicted, and we almost felt alone on the lake - a strange feeling for California. I can't speak for Alice, but I'd go back to do some more exploring on the south end!

Mandatory sunset over the mountains picture.

Our return was perfectly timed with the sunset. We had an audience of fishermen as we loaded up our boats. On the drive home we crossed the mountains westward to HWY101, nearly hitting Bambi on the way (coincidentally during a conversation about movies with animal name titles).

Date: Saturday June 1st, 2013
Time: ~4.5 hours
Distance ~ 13.5 miles

West Coast, meet Big Purple.

After 8 months of dry, solitary confinement in the garage in Penfield, NY, Big Purple finally joined me in California on Friday evening. She (is it a "she"? I'm not sure) was on the road for 5 weeks (jealous!).

I arrived at the beautiful Stanford Boathouse in Redwood City just before 8pm. The site was completely deserted and sun was setting over San Francisco Bay. I hopped out of my car and went through the familiar motions of clamping the saddles onto the roof-rack and threading the weathered blue straps through the cross-bars. It took me a bit longer to remember how to tie a bowline knot. Even after tying 16 bowline knots on each of 20 tarps at COE I still can't seem to remember it!

I spent the next 15 minutes sitting on the dock attempting to open my kayak lock by going through every possible permutation of 11-21-09 (or was it 23? 27?). The combo was programmed into my previous cell phone, which is now lying in the dirt somewhere in the hills behind Santa Cruz. No success... I guess I'll just have two locks attached to the cable! Maybe that will help intimidate kayak-robbers.

Around 8:15 I turned to see a truck pulling a huge trailer of boats along the winding wooded driveway. Albert, the driver, stepped out of the cab and helped me unload my boat. Her 16.5-foot length looked small amongst the rowing shells and outrigger canoes.

Albert helped me load Big Purple onto my car and left me to cinch down the straps while he delivered an antique rowing shell to another excited recipient.

It's possible that I grinned for the entire 40 minute drive home. There is something so comforting about driving down the highway with the nose of your kayak sticking out in front of you, the bowlines fluttering in the wind.

Last, Smallest, Shortest, but Certainly One of the Best: Canadice Lake.

I'll admit it. I'm feeling a little sentimental right now. Bear with me please :)

In my first post I laid out my paddling goals for this summer. Some were intentionally ambitious and others were intentionally ambiguous. At some point last spring it occurred to me (possibly caused by some senior year sentimentality) that I live in an incredibly beautiful region called the Finger Lakes that's lush with kayaking opportunities that I had never really taken advantage of. I set out to circumnavigate or paddle at least 15 miles on each of the11 Finger Lakes by the end of the year. It wasn't really a challenging goal, but it certainly took some great company, planning, dedication, and hours in the car. Over the past 6 months I managed to drag myself and my friends to 24 different bodies of water, and I loved every minute of it! I guess now it's time to make some new goals!

Today we (Heather, Jeff Bu., Nick, Ben, Rob, and I) paddled the perimeter of Canadice Lake (Iroquois for "Long Lake," even though it's the shortest one!). After a slight delay on my part due to a desire for Honey Crisp apples from Honeoye, we put in at the only official put-in: on the east side, about a mile down the lake.

We headed south towards the shallow/swampy part of the lake. Similar to Hemlock Lake, virtually none of the Canadice shores are developed, apart from a few random canoes/aluminum boats strewn in the woods. We immediately noticed (and played around in) the stands of dead trees in the water at the south end - a sight we haven't really seen on any of the other Finger Lakes. There were also many flocks of birds hanging out at the south end of the lake.

After dabbling around the south end for a while, we headed back up along the west shore where we scoped out a stopping point for lunch. From the water rings around the tree trunks it looked like the water level was fairly low. It was easy to find a rocky beach where we could get out and stretch our legs.

A big stink bug that found its way onto Jeff's pants...

By the time we headed out after lunch the water was so calm that you could see perfect reflections on the water:

 

Nick's boat perfectly matched the scenery today:

At the north end of the lake lies a dam that holds the water level of the lake higher than it would naturally be. It was fun to get out and explore it. There was a big concrete spillway to allow runoff in the case of a big rain storm.

It was mostly exciting as a great spot to shoot pictures from above:

We soon headed back towards the put-in where Rob and Ben practiced some rolling.  When we were back on land Heather pulled out a surprise bottle of sparkling wine and Rob threw in some delicious chocolate! We managed to get some funny looks from other boaters who were coming and going.

We ended the day at a Mexican restaurant in Canandaigua that Heather suggested. It was delicious and delightful. I'll leave you with this sunset on Canadice Lake:

Date: October 24th, 2010
Distance: 7 miles
Weather: Perfectly fall

Otisco: A Lake with a Split Personality

Today couldn't have been more perfect: perfect weather on Otisco, magnificent fall colors surrounding us, no motor boats on the water, and great turnout! Eleven of us (Daniel & Amy, Ben, Laurie, Don, Mike, and I from Ithaca, and Jeff B., Jeff H., Heather, and Nick from Rochester!) showed up for this beautiful paddle. After a few wrong turns, an incredibly steep hill, and some pungent overheated brakes, we all managed to meet at the causeway at the southwest end of the lake:

 Causeway - A road elevated on a raised embankment, usually across a broad body of water.

A brief history (to make up for forgetting my tour guide notes!): Otisco Lake is the east-most Finger Lake. The valley where it lies was formed by the same continental glacier that formed the rest of the Finger Lakes. The lake, however, was formed from the damming of Nine Mile Creek, which flows north through the valley. The area south of the causeway has very different water quality from the rest of the lake because it was originally a wetland. In 1869 the water level of the lake was raised 9ft for use in the Erie Canal. In 1908 it was raised another 4ft to provide drinking water for Syracuse.

Date: October 3rd, 2010
Weather: Sunny, 60 degrees, breezy - perfect!
Distance: 13.5 miles (9.5 to the top of the lake and back, and 4 miles exploring the south end)

We launched around 1:30pm, and headed north. It was a big group, but since all were competent paddlers, we stayed together quite well. We chit-chatted our way up the lake (bonding as kayakers do), and arrived at The Narrows (a section at the north end of the lake that's separated from the rest of the lake by a narrower section) in no time. We were having a hard time finding Otisco Lake Park (the only other public access spot on the lake) so Jeff & Jeff sped over to some residents sitting out on their dock to ask for directions. We found the park shortly after, located a little ways down the east shore of the lake. It was a quaint little park, with no bathrooms or buildings, but it was a beautiful place to take a lunch break on this sunny October afternoon:

Relaxing in the sun after an afternoon lunch break.

 

Nick getting back out on the water.

 

 

Daniel, Jeff, and Amy playing in the water

 

Kayakers are beautiful

We headed back down the lake, encountering many waterfowl along the way!

 

Ben, Jeff, and Mike disturbing the wildlife

We arrived back at the launch site a little after 5pm. Jeff B., Heather, Ben, and I decided to continue exploring beyond the causeway. The sun was starting to go down, and the fall colors were looking more vibrant than ever.

Oh fall, how I love thee.
 

At the south end of the lake we discovered the inlet creek, so we paddled up it until we couldn't turn our boats around anymore (dodging scary spiders and carp along the way). The creek winds through fields as opposed to the wetland/wooded inlets of other Finger Lakes.

Me exploring the inlet - thanks Jeff B. for the picture!

After circumnavigating the south end of the lake, we paddled back through the little opening in the causeway. The conditions on either side were drastically different. To the south end (down wind), the water was perfectly calm and wind-free. As soon as we passed through the opening we encountered a decent wind and chop - it was quite exhilarating!

Heather and Ben returning to the north side of the causeway at the end of the night.

We got back to our cars just as it was getting dark. Much to my delight, Ben and I discovered (1/2 of) a delicious mint chocolate bar on my dashboard. What better way to end a day of kayaking?! Perfect, I say, just perfect.

One more lake to go (Canadice). I will be sad when this is over!