Up the river

The secret garden

Belnap Hot Springs sits just off highway 126, one of Oregon's wooded corridors that was shockingly burned in last summer's fires. The highway runs through Eugene and closely follows the McKenzie River as it tumbles downhill to join the Willamette. It's a beautiful river, icy cold, especially in spring, and numerous campsites hug its edge. During the 70s and 80s, when we were living in Eugene, we knew this highway well and probably spent nights in every one of its campgrounds. But never, for some reason, Belnap.

So I was pleased to join my family there for a four-day camping trip last weekend. Highway 126 was too far south so we took OR 22 out of Salem most of the way. Here too were acres and acres of burned trees. Heavy logging equipment sat roadside in numerous places, and the almost complete destruction of the little town of Detroit Lake made us all sad. But there were multiple signs of rebuilding, which shows optimism. May it not be in vain.

Belnap sprawls across both sides of the river and has been a resort since the early 20s. The campground is huge, with crisscrossing paths that made it easy to get lost, even in daylight. One night my daughter and I did. We were coming back from the loo when our only light went dark with no warning. The trails and campsites are surrounded by tall trees and shrubs and the moon was no help. We stood in the blackness for a few minutes, shocked and amazed, and decided to move forward, thinking we could sense the absence of trees where our turnoff should be. 

This failed to materialize however, and after each of us had taken a turn walking into either a tree or a bush we turned around and crept back to the camp restrooms. Jennifer felt confident she could find camp using another route she knew, so I waited while she went off to retrieve a working light. It was blissfully quiet and from a grassy area nearby I could see the pale half moon finally rising. Eventually my dauntless daughter returned with a light and our little adventure was over.

During our stay we enjoyed the mineral hot springs pools, wandered the paths, sat by the river, and visited the "secret garden." On Friday we went to Clear Lake and rented a boat. Clear lake is the source of the McKenzie and the river was blocked by lava 2900 years ago. The river source, a large spring, filled the little valley and the extremely cold water left many of the ancient trees intact and still standing. We searched across the lake and found many. Jeff made his habitual dive into the icy water (any body of water will do) and after a quick return to the boat declared the cold a 9 on a scale of ten, and probably life threatening. (The lake supports no life, though fish are stocked in summer.)

On Saturday he road his bike over McKenzie pass to Sisters and we drove up to meet him. On the way back we stopped at Camp Sherman to visit the store and admire the Metolius, and then went on to dinner. It was late when we reached Sahalie Falls and the afternoon crowd had dwindled. We pulled in. I have been there many times over the years but have never seen such water and we wondered whether it was the recent rains or a too-early snow melt that sent so much of it plunging down the steep rocks.

It was lovely to have this break after so long in the city and I came home filled with memories of the weekend, and of all the many weekends Ray and Jennifer and I visited these same spots. There is a feeling of comfortable familiarity, of belonging here, that makes me realize how much this landscape owns my heart. Belnap isn't part of that yet, but I hope to return and explore more of its paths, and make more memories to fold away with the others.

As I write this on Wednesday, Portland is expecting three days of 100+ weather followed by several days in the 90s. This is so unlike the Oregon I have known so long that it startles. It's a clear sign, if one was needed, that our climate is changing and already there are a few small fires across the state. I fear for our forests and the people who live and work in them, and pray that the expected fires do not ignite. We have been poor stewards of this Earth and I can only hope it's not too late to be better.