Deadhorse Lake

The three rigs caravanned into the Fremont National Forest—first turning on to Thomas Creek Road, and criss-crossing through agricultural lands, until the National Forest lands started with typical small brown signs directing us toward Campbell and Dead Horse lakes.  We passed through some beautiful scenery, with wildflowers throughout green meadows, surrounded by timber lands.  The roads were open range and we slowed for cattle on the road several times.  Some pre-commercial thinning had stacks of small trees on landings past the Dairy Creek turnoff, but we were un-prepared for the extent of cutting once we turned onto the gravel road leading to the lakes.  Most trees were cut along a wide swath along the roads, but the upland areas were grey—dead tree thickets abounded, with only an occasional green survivor.  All the destruction relates to a severe beetle infestation.  Where once you could not see Campbell Lake from the road, now it was easily seen, all the way around, with barren campsites supporting only an occasional leggy tree.  Despitethis foreshadowing, I was unprepared for the sight of Deadhorse Lake—a place I had camped frequently under lush trees with the small blue lake lying like a gem surrounded by the green forest.  The green forest is gone and, like Campbell Lake, only a few trees are left in a swath around the lake, with dead grey forestland above on the hillsides.

After the initial shock, I adjusted.  The area is still pretty, but is not the lake from the past.  Don’t expect that, and the lakeside campground remains enjoyable.   We set up our camps side-by-side, with me between Brad and Erich.  The bug tent went up quickly, as did Laura’s tent.  Water was brownish, and not really acceptable for drinking, but we felt we could try Campbell Lake for water  Liz went for a walk with Emily, and the others were out and about as well.  Suddenly, a huge gust of wind—far more serious than any gusts we’d encountered, blew across the lake and hit the bug tent.  The stakes ripped out of the ground and the tent cartwheeled onto the campfire.  I ran toward it from the rig, and Laura ran up from the lake, and together we pulled the tent off the fire and rotated it back pver the nearby picnic table.  We re-affixed the poles, ran guy-string ties top two trees and another to a stump, and secured it from further wind cartwheeling.  However, a three foot length of netting had melted, which I patched with black Gorilla tape, and the tent was slightly mis-shapened, but it still did the trick and kept out the insects, more-or-less.  Gusty winds would batter it over the next several days, gradually pulling it into shapes never intended by the manufacturer.  One entry zipper gave up the ghost a couple of days later, but the tent still provided  shade and some protection from bugs.

 Laura got some nibbles on her first morning out, but I didn’t get a bite, nor did Erich or the others.  Fishing from the bank I sa challenge because of all of the trees and brush which are in the lake around the shoreline.

Cocktail hour came every night, and we enjoyed ourselves around the campfire.  Emily would play with her Ipod while the rest of us talked about this-and-that, then mainly went our separate ways for dinner.  The 4^th of July was a communal dinner, with everyone cooking chicken and bringing a side dish.  Great food, great company, and a good time was had by all.

Chris, Deidra and the boys joined us on the 4^th of July—they have a large tent that can fit all 4 of them, and it was easily set up, after we warned them about the wind and they weighted the tent bottom with their things.  Lincoln was really enjoying himself, playing in the dirt, fishing with his Dad, and exploring with his mom and Parker.  Lincoln  had his first campfire marshmallow, and little Parker enjoyed watching his Grandma do up the dishes.