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What a difference a month makes By Lee Juillerat Jul 22, 2022 12:30 PM A A 3 View all photos Stretching more than a mile in length, Long Lake lives up to its name. [Photo by Lee Juillerat] A “dragon” that doesn't bite resides near Long Lake's north end. [Photo by Lee Juillerat] Colorful wildflowers are abundant in a meadow north of Long Lake. [Photo by Lee Juillerat] Lost Creek Trail transformed from waterway to familiar wilderness route Lost Creek in mid-June was flowing wild, making its flooded, namesake trail impossible to follow. Located near the eastern boundary of the Sky Lakes Wilderness, even the section of the trail that crosses the normally unseen creek was awash with rushing water. Two of us carefully stepped across on logs and rocks while another crawled across a fallen tree. Two others in our quintet balked, retreated to the parking area and drove to the nearby Cold Spring Trailhead. On the other side of Lost Creek, the trail was unwalkable, completely hidden by rapidly flowing water. On that day in mid-June, Lost Creek wasn’t a creek; it was a river. That wasn’t the case earlier this week. As usual, there was no need to ford the creek because — as usual — there was no river, no creek, no water. If we hadn’t known it as the place where we carefully tippy-toed across, we would have simply strolled past the truly lost Lost Creek. Instead of bushwhacking around the swollen stream turned river and frequent patches of snow, we simply followed the trail. Surprisingly, there was no remnant debris on the path — seemingly unscathed by floodwaters. If I hadn’t been on the trail four weeks earlier and seen for myself how it looked, I would have thought anyone telling me about the trail turned river was overflowing with blarney. Instead, Lost Creek Trail is itself again: an easy-to-follow, 1 1/2-mile hike from its unsigned trailhead to its junction with the Badger Lake Trail and, a bit further north, connection with the Pacific Crest, Red Lake and Blue Canyon trails. Instead of weaving through brush and trees in a snow-laden landscape, we hiked up the obvious trail. Instead of breaking an impromptu path to Center Lake, we strolled past the lake en route to the Badger Lake Trail junction. From there we headed south, winding around and over trail-clogging trees. At Long Lake’s north end – about 2 3/4 miles from the Lost Creek Trailhead — Haldane Harris and I followed Bill Van Moorhem along the lakeshore to a clearing near a campsite hidden from the trail. The nearby attraction is a fallen tree, its branches and trunk contorted in the shape of a dragon. Long Lake lives up to its name: more than a mile in length. After water and snacks, we hiked north past the dragon – “Don’t get too close,” Bill laughingly warned, “It might attack!” – and along a long meadow alive with richly colored wildflowers, including past-their-prime penstemon, shooting stars and an array of others flowers. We weren’t the first to tread the area. Elk had left their tracks in the spongy meadow. On last month’s hike — abbreviated by slow going and falling snow — we stopped at Center Lake before retreating back to the parking area off Forest Road 3659. Instead of bundling in jackets, gloves and wool hats, we rolled up our shirtsleeves and, after applying generous doses of mosquito repellent, soaked up the heat. By early afternoon it was toasty hot. What a difference a month makes. Reach freelance writer Lee Juillerat at [email protected] or 541-880-4139.