July 8, 2012: Last year just around this time, a friend of mine that I had met through some photography projects I got involved with when I first moved into town had invited me on a camping trip with him, his girlfriend and a few others out in the Mt. Hood Wilderness. I had been up around the mountain a few times, but never within the wilderness that encompassed the foothills south of Mt. Hood. This would be a whole new adventure for me.
With Kino loaded up alongside all my camping equipment, I drove south from downtown Portland, then east along SR 224 past Estacada and into the Mt. Hood Wilderness. After nearly an hour of following the breathtaking canyons and azure blue waters of the Clackamas River, I finally passed the Ripplebrook Ranger Station, the landmark that told me to take the next left turn off the highway. My directions told me to stay right at all the forks in the road until I reached a huge wooden gate. From here, the road turned into rough gravel, which I followed until I reached their campsite, designated with a line of beer cans across the hood. Although the main recreation spot in these parts was the the semi-crowded Timothy Lake, there was instead a sign on the windshield with directions to Buck Lake, a quiet little swimming hole up the mountain where they were spending the warmth of the afternoon.
The road upwards was narrow. Like, barely a car wide, narrow. To my right, the cliffs dropped off into a deep valley, and to my left, a wall of rocks and trees rose above me to the next switchback. My Jeep bounced and bumped, and twisted and turned up the climb to Buck Lake, but we made it to the "parking area" with little problems. I was still unsure that I was in the right area, though. With not a soul to be seen, the only way to find out was to walk the road for the next few hundred yards in an effort to find the 1/2-mile trail that would lead up to the lake. Less than fifteen minutes later, Kino and I were climbing over a small ridge in the trees from which we were able to effortlessly drop down to the rocky shoreline of Buck Lake. From above, the water was crystal clear and strikingly blueish green. The surface was calm and the rays of sun were hitting it just right, so perfectly in fact, that it almost seemed like tinted glass as opposed to the murky, silt-filled lakes I was used to visiting back in Ohio.
I met my friends and were introduced to a few others that were up along for the ride, though I can't seem to recall their names. There were two other guys that seemed to be decent friends, a latino man and his son, and a married couple as well. We all got along alright, and after a few hours of swimming around the lake, we all headed in a caravan back down to the campsite, a nice little spot that butted up against the one of the genesis streams of the Clackamas River.
I only spent one night there, and I can't say that outside of firing off a homemade potato gun into the river, nothing truly extraordinary happened. It was just a hell of a good time. This was just one of those weekends where you find yourself among mostly strangers, yet everyone got along massively, chipped in their part for dinner, breakfast and keeping the fire going. We hung out well into the night, laughing and telling random stories around the campfire the entire time. I looked down to find Kino fast asleep by the fire, keeping himself warm against the oncoming chill of the night. It was here that myself, along with a few others decided to retire, and the livelihood of the evening dwindled with the campfire's embers.
I was the first to wake up in the morning, and passed the time by rebuilding the fire and cleaning up camp from the night before. I got breakfast started as well, and it wasn't long before the scent of pancakes and coffee aroused the rest of the crew from their tents. As the morning passed along, I slowly collected my gear and reloaded up my car to get a decent day's start out on the road. It would only be about a two hour drive back to Portland, but I wanted to make a few stops along the way, just to relax with my dog and soak up the sun along the isolated flow of the Clackamas River. I said my good-byes and left just about the same time as a few of the others, looking forward to the next time we'd all get together for another camping trip again. Although I haven't been back to that area of the wilderness with them since last year, I look forward to taking the trip again, this time with the goal to camp up at the lake itself. It's too serene of a spot not to try.
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