Lost Lake is one of my favorite places near Mt. Hood. My wife and I have visited at least once a year since we moved to Oregon almost five years ago and it has never once disappointed. If you're looking for solitude, though, you won't find it at Lost Lake.
We fell in love with this beautiful place the first time we visited. It is highlighted by the majestic mountain towering gloriously above the lake, a well-maintained campground with fairly large sites, a lovely lakeside old-growth boardwalk and trail. It is the perfect spot to lounge in a hammock with a book and a few session IPAs on a hot summer day.
Late last week we decided we would drive up to Lost Lake on Saturday afternoon and spend the night.
Back in March, my Sony mirrorless camera flashed a terrible error message and melted on me. After seven weeks apart, this was the first weekend back with my camera and I was eager to capture some beautiful scenes. I also hoped to (attempt to) shoot the Milky Way for the first time. I have always been fascinated by the night sky and the thought of standing alone at the lake in the middle of the night looking up at the universe, painted with the Milky Way, made my heart feel full. Even if no photo came out, I would be content just to be there.
After an easy two hour drive we arrive at the lake and to our delight find the last lakeside tents-only campsite. We wander down to the lake to enjoy the views.
We set up camp and decide to bring our dinner to the lake and prepare in the day use area near the north viewpoint where we would then watch the sun set. The sun had already began its descent and the mountain was glowing, seemingly changing by the second.
We prepare a meal of grilled salmon burgers and asparagus and enjoy from the lakeshore as we watch the mountain change colors magnificently.
“There stood Mount Hood in all the glory of the alpine glow, looming immensely high, beaming with intelligence, and so impressive that one was overawed as if suddenly brought before some superior being newly arrived from the sky.”
Soon enough, the sun sets and we make our way back to our campsite for a fire. When we get in our tent a little before 11 pm the night sky is freckled with innumerable stars.
I wake to my alarm at 2:50 am, exit our tent and find it is raining, and no stars are in sight. No Milky Way viewing tonight. Feeling awake and motivated, though, we decide we'd get up in an hour to hike to Lost Lake Butte and catch the sunrise 1,200 feet above the lake.
We begin walking around 4:25 am as a light misty rain falls. The campground is still. We make good time and arrive at the butte, 2.3 miles later, around 5:15 am, and I make myself a cup of coffee, trying to ignore the fact that everything is completely socked in by fog. We nestle ourselves between a few boulders for shelter from the wind and rest. No epic sunrise this morning.
Even though we don't see the Milky Way or watch the sunrise alone on top of a butte overlooking a beautiful lake with Mt. Hood glowing in the near distance, I am still content to be there. I am outside, in nature, with my favorite person on this earth, carried by my own two legs to this beautiful place at dawn, miles from other people.
In these moments I am most alive, most in tune with myself and my surroundings. How could I be disappointed?
“The whole mountain appeared as one glorious manifestation of divine power, enthusiastic and benevolent, glowing like a countenance with ineffable repose and beauty, before which we could only gaze in devout and lowly admiration.”