In south central Oregon, next to the sandiest part of the Oregon Desert, improbably grows a stand of Ponderosa pine. These trees are about 40 miles removed from their nearest neighbors. But what makes them really special is that they are growing on very sandy soil in arid conditions. The Lost Forest averages only about 9.75” of rain each year. This is about half the minimum rainfall required by thriving, natural growing, Ponderosa pine.
What makes survival in these dry conditions possible seems to be the soil. The entire area is underlain by an impervious layer of calcium carbonate, the remnants of a Pleistocene seafloor. Over time, the area was uplifted and covered with ash from Mt. Mazama (Crater Lake’s volcano), and Newberry Crater. This layering, sandy soils over hard pan, conserves the meager rainfall. The topsoil quickly drains the water before it can evaporate onto the calcium layer where it is held available for plants with long enough roots.
The roads into and within the forest are amazingly well maintained, although those on the west side are quite rocky. Maybe because of the ORV traffic volume. The GaiaGPS map of the Natural Area has not been updated to reflect road closures. Consequently many of the roads marked on the map are now closed. Since I didn’t have time for a hike, I was not able to get into some areas that I wanted to see.
In addition, camping here is apparently restricted to designates sites only. Although, without signs, how you are supposed to know this, is not clear. By chance, I happened on one of the few campsites. Since nobody was around and it was starting to rain, I stopped for the night.
In checking my map location, I noticed a weak cell signal was available, so I phoned home. What a novelty to have cell communications from the desert; usually we speak via satellite, so conversations are short. This time we talked until the rain strengthened and I had to get camp setup before dark. I fixed a quick dinner and listened to the wind in the trees.
My camp setup consists of moving three boxes, and some tools, from the bed of the truck to the cab; then unrolling my sleeping pad and bag. I accomplished this in the light wind-blown rain, to the songs of mountain bluebirds, horned larks, and a few California quail. While I was eating my dinner a large bat made a few apparently unsuccessful passes around my truck. The dark settled in, and unlike my typical desert experience, my world was reduced to a small windblown, rain-dampened, forest edge.
I’m used to the silence of the sagebrush, but this night was all wind in the not-too-distant pines. I’m pretty sure that different species of trees make different sounds as the wind blows through their leaves and branches. Ponderosa pines seem to have a higher pitch than do junipers, but lower than Douglas-fir.
I spent the night sheltered in the truck reading about the origins of Viking culture. The wind was a perfect backdrop to a story of proto-Nordic peoples. The rain was an added bonus, although I suppose that blowing snow would have been more perfect. I settled for the sounds of a wet Icelandic coastal village. No matter, I was very snug in the back of my truck untouched by wind or rain.
Morning dawned cloudy, with a light breeze. The sand was pockmarked from the rain but the sandy soil had not held the moisture. My truck was completely dry. The morning bird song came from flickers, mourning doves, and ravens. I found this bird song identification application for my cell phone. Given the severity of my hearing loss, it helps me immensely.
As I drove back into the forest, I was again followed by a plume of fine dust.
This forest is much shorter than the pine forest in the Maury Mountains, or on Pine Mountain in the eastern Ochoco. The soil of the Maury Mountains is rockier, but Pine Mountain soil seems just as sandy as that of the Lost Forest. Reflecting the increased rainfall there (13.75”), the pine forests of the Maury Mountains hold much more vegetation per area than either Pine Mountain or the Lost Forest.
Pine Mountain is located at the south east corner of the Deadline Flat. I plan to tell the story of the Deadline in a future post.
I have an affinity for Ponderosa pine forests. Since Ponderosa growth tends to be water limited, they tend to be more open than other forest types and when they are in regions of more rain, are interspersed with grass. The wide spacing, combined with bright red-brown of Ponderosa pine trunks, make for attractive vistas. The Lost Forest is no exception. Wide spaced trees and bright red boles.
When I enter these areas, I wonder what stories the area inspired. Keep in mind that this forest is surrounded by sagebrush on the north, east, and south, and by blown sand dunes on the west. The forest must have sheltered many large mammals from the summer heat. This area must have been known to the peoples of the desert as a place where they found many a meal. They likely told many stories of how the forest came to be, and who lived there.
As far as I know, stories of this forest have been lost. Given the shifting sands, there is little surface record of the first peoples. But they were here. Not far away is Fort Rock, site of some of the earliest anthropological finds in North America. Sandals, points, and cordage dating from 9,000 to 10,500 years ago. This was a time when Mt. Mazama dominated the southern Cascades skyline—before it blew its top to form Crater Lake. Perhaps the Lost Forest was still connected to the forests of the Cascades.
These early peoples must have had stories that they told, sometimes in forests similar to this one. I wonder if the Neanderthals told stories, or is story a uniquely human form of communication. Some things we will likely never know, and I’m OK with that.