Waldo Wednesday Part II

 Wednesday morning not only did I take a little walk along the shoreline trail, but when enjoying my coffee from the inside of my car, so I didn't have to share blood with mosquitos, I spotted this little guy running around.

It's not a deer mouse, at least.  I don't want to see deer mice.  That's because they're the known carriers of Hantavirus.   Hantavirus is a killer.   I helped an old lady once in Albany get a bunch of cats fixed.  Part of helping ended up being a witness with a notary public to her will.  She couldn't find anyone else to be witness and had two loser sons already battling over her shack, should she die, and it was nothing more than that.

It was awhile later, after she had died, I heard a man died after cleaning a shed filled with deer mice and their droppings, of Hantavirus.   One of the sons. 

I headed across the lake for my kayak trip Wednesday.   Straight across, to the old plugged tunnel.

From a long ago Eugene newspaper article, briefly explaining the tunnel saga:

"Waldo has no inlet creeks, receiving its water from rain and snow. That fact led to the failure of a power-generation scheme devised by Danish engineer Simon Klovdahl. In 1912-1914 he successfully built a tunnel that tapped Waldo Lake’s water, diverting it west to Black Creek. The tunnel would have drained the lake by 40 feet. The project was abandoned, however, when it became obvious that the lake would take a decade to refill."

It's quite a paddle across to that point. A paddle boarder named Jake, from Bend, followed me over. He didn't really follow me, just saw the structure from a distance and decided to investigate. He was very friendly and said it was a workout to paddle over on an SUP. I can imagine. They catch the wind, having no hull or keel, and you're paddling with one blade, not two, as I did, with a kayak paddle. He was kneeling on the board instead of standing, to make it easier and reduce wind drag.

So I forgot to take any photos and as Jake headed back across the lake, I headed south down the southwest shore, much of which is badly burned, right up to West Beach, at the south end.

I call this place, along the SW side My Little Lagoon.  I've been coming to it since before the fires.

Flocks of Dragonflies were everywhere along the west shoreline.  Sometimes many congregated on my kayak as I paddled.    Or on my legs.  I said no, if they were mating.  No mating on my arm, I told them, shaking them off.

East Beach.   I avoided West Beach because there were people laid out there and I wanted to give them their peace and privacy.

This is another popular place to hike or canoe-in camp. There is even a fire ring in the field behind. But they don't want campers on the beach. It spoils views for kayakers and also people often don't understand you don't poop or pee near waterways. Some people will never understand that. At the reservoir, I see people pee directly into the lake from their boats. I want to ask them, do you know we drink this water downstream? Do you consider what if all the hundreds of people using this lake in one day did that? But these aren't bright people or they wouldn't be using our waterways as a toilet.


I went swimming at East Beach.

From east beach, I paddled back out and around a point and back down to the end.  There's another island, to paddle behind and there were tent campers who seemed eager to chat there.   They had canoe'ed in their gear and now seemed bored.  On along the shoreline, crossing the long lagoon finally, down which is the boat ramp and day use area, and on to Shadow Bay and camp.

The trees are covered in spanish moss.  Especially the north side.   It was everywhere on fallen branches I collected for firewood too.  These branches were bone dry and so was the moss.  I used it to light campfires, as tender.   When you see how thick the forests are in moss, and that this stuff lights with a spark, you understand how easily forest fires can start, whether its from lightning, a tossed cigarette, a spark from a vehicle tow chain or exhaust.  Here's a demo, with my campfire, lighting it single match, moss as tender.

Trees covered in moss like body hair

It was time to relax after I got back from my five hour kayak trip.

But I went out one more time.   Evenings there were always many people heading out to Shadow Point, down the shoreline trail, like a pilgramage, to watch the sunset.   I decided to watch it, on my last night, from my kayak out on the water.

I love Waldo Lake