Indian paintbrush pushes skyward near one of the more scenic waterfalls upstream from McKay Crossing Campground. (David Jasper/The Bulletin)

La Pine adventure awaits

On Saturday, my wife and I returned to one of my favorite parts of Central Oregon, Newberry Volcano, and I was struck not just by the beauty, which I’ll get to, but also by the way the years fly by. 

Our family has spent so much time there over the past nearly 25 years we’ve lived here. We have photos of us when we were a family of three and our oldest daughter, now 25, was riding around in a backpack contraption. The last trip my mom and dad made here in 2006, we hiked the Obsidian Trail. I brought our younger two daughters to the natural waterslide on Paulina Creek probably 11 or 12 years back. 

My last time really getting outdoors in the area was June 2022, when another gorgeous trek, that time on the Paulina Lake Loop Trail, turned into a slog for me. Over the course of its 7.5 miles, I developed an increasingly worse sore throat, my pace slowed, and I started to wonder if I’d need to be carried out on a stretcher. I made it, but later at home I learned I’d been coming down with my first case of COVID-19. 

Better luck next time

No such bad luck last weekend, when we arrived just ever so slightly ahead of the crowd and hiked upstream, then back down, on Peter Skene Ogden Trail, which runs parallel to Paulina Creek. Depending on where you start, this out and back can be as long as you want to make it, anywhere from 17 miles roundtrip from the Ogden Group Camp for the full shebang, or 14 miles from McKay Crossing Campground, uphill — and for the most part, not steeply uphill — to where the creek begins as outflow from Paulina Lake down the flank of the sizable volcano. Downstream, the creek meets its end at the Little Deschutes River, a confluence the Western Rivers Conservancy is working with Deschutes Land Trust and the Bureau of Land Management to ensure its conservation.

We opted for the latter trailhead in McKay Crossing Campground, located just across the small bridge over the creek. From here, it’s 7 miles to Paulina Lake. As said, you can make this hike as long as you want. Along the way, Paulina Creek offers waterfall after waterfall – not necessarily giants, although you can keep going all the way to Paulina Falls for a more dramatic, 80-foot-high waterfall, too – and natural waterslides if you’re feeling up for adventure in chilly waters.

Follow your ear

Saturday was breathtakingly gorgeous: not too hot given our early start, but warm enough to dip our feet in the water along the many creekside spots available. Though we planned to hike upstream, our first waterfall encounter, McKay Falls, is located ever so slightly — 500 feet as the crow flies, longer on the trail — downstream of the trailhead. We gazed for a few before setting out for the hike proper and shedding a layer and slathering on sunscreen as we passed our car. 

As Scott Cook wrote in the last edition of his area guidebook “Bend, Overall,” follow your ears, because here the often quiet, or merely burbling stream begins to roar in places, and that’s when you know you’ve happened upon the next one. The early portions of the hike take you through a 1982 burn area, though it gets harder to see the remnants other than some charred logs. I remember my first and last hikes here 10 to 12 years ago as a much hotter walk in full sun, but what once were saplings are 10 and 15 feet high trees (they grow up so fast) and provide a modicum of shade. 

A woman on horseback — we didn’t catch her name, but her horse was named Sonny — passed us maybe 20 minutes into our hike. She noticed we’d been taking in the wildflowers. When I asked about a certain one I didn’t know, she said she calls them Bypathas, which sounded like a legit flower name until a beat later when she said “Because they’re by the path.” I laughed so loud I’m glad I didn’t startle Sonny.

As it turned out, I’d been looking at red columbine, currently providing creekside color along with many others I did know, including Indian paintbrush, common snowberry and wild roses.

We also saw several mountain bikers and a cyclocross rider pass by, but the ride is uphill only, so hikers and Sonnys don’t have to contend with speeding bikes. It’s about 1.5 miles to the natural waterslides, and we scored it all to ourselves. Neither of us were in swim trunks nor eager to brave the cold waters, but it also made a great spot to sit by the creek, dip our feet in, have a picnic and observe the insects, robins and vultures over the creek. 

I honestly could’ve just stayed there, but we wanted to see a little more of the creek and trail.

I’m glad we did. What followed were successions of waterfalls, a couple of which have ripe pools below them that had us regretting our lack of swimsuits, frigid water or not. We came to a small double set of falls after a total of about 2.5 miles, ate the last of our snacks, rested, took photos and then did the unavoidable and hit the trail back down. Sigh.

A few tips

Hikers will want sturdy shoes, and bring river shoes if you plan on hitting the water. Forget what you know about river stones: The volcanic rock here can be sharp. 

After the waterfalls, of course, the second best thing about hiking here might have been the lack of mosquitoes at a time of year when the evil little vampires are swarming in the neighboring Cascades. Bring repellent just in case and sunscreen just because it’s smart to take care of your skin. 

This is a popular trail and the waterslides bring people in droves. Personally, I’d be more than content going for a swim below the several waterfalls whose pools below beg for it, and avoid the masses altogether, but that’s me. We didn’t set out till nearly 10 a.m., when we were the only car parked by the trailhead, but it’s the early season. In high summer, I’d shoot for arriving before 9 a.m. to beat the crowds. 

Nothing gold can stay

Despite our short-range hike, we managed to turn it into a four-hour outing. On our way back down around 1 p.m., we saw close to a dozen people sunning themselves near the waterslide — none of whom were braving the flume — and counted ourselves lucky for having scored it to ourselves earlier.

Passing others with wet pets reminded me of how our dear departed family dog Kaloo loved to abandon the trail and plunge into the waters below; I teared up a bit at one point. I’m all for seeing new places, but there is something special about visiting spots you traversed at other stages of life. Not that any of this got me feeling melancholy. They say that negative ions in the air around waterfalls are good for your mood, and I can’t say I was in a bad one by the time we reluctantly called it a day.

We pledged to return — this summer, not years down the road — when it’s just a little hotter and the waters a smidge warmer. We did climb up and down steeper stretches of trail to get different perspectives on the waterfalls, but on the whole, the main trail is not that grueling. Nevertheless, I was surprised by how tired and achy my legs were by Saturday evening. Maybe it’s my aging boots, but I have a suspicion it’s my aging self.

Hurry up and get out there. Summer flies by, and as the poet said, nothing gold can stay.

Getting there: From Bend or Sunriver, head south on U.S. Highway 97 to south, then 3.2 miles east on Paulina Lake Road (County Road 21), and then 2.7 miles east on Forest Road 2120.