Kayaking Potholes Reservoir near Moses Lake

July 2005

The upstroke blade of my feathered kayak paddle sounded "f f f f f f f f f" into the strong wind, like a kite vibrating as it strains above an open ocean coast. When we left our car a few hours before, I could hold up my paddle as a sail to be propelled along. Then as we headed back to a pre-chosen prime camping spot, the evening winds became something to push into, dig and stroke, dig and stroke.

We had driven the unnamed gravel roads that lead to the north shores of a lively bird sanctuary within the Potholes Reservoir, near Moses Lake of central Washington. The idea of a large freshwater lake dotted by a labyrinth of islands intrigued us, so we packed our kayaks for a visit to this manmade sanctuary.

After the area was dammed in the 1950s to provide an irrigation reserve for farmers, the water level rose so that tops of Pleistocene flood-formed sand dunes became islands. Reeds, bushes, and trees thrived; many species of birds and mammals proliferated in their newly formed habitat.

The reservoir and adjoining park land offers many interesting activities for all sorts. Birders have variety and quantity. Bass attract fishing poles. The more open southern end of the reservoir is fun for boaters, jet skiers, swimmers, and water skiers. The intimate and shallow north end offers nature, privacy, gunkholing, and camp-where-you-want relaxation for kayakers and canoeists.

Our first evening out on the water, I was most impressed by the birds. White Kingfishers hovering in the wind before dropping straight into the water with a loud splash after spotting a prized small fish to eat. Subsurface diving Western Grebes popping up from underwater foraging, only to be surprised by a yellow fiberglass whale and quickly diving back under, jumping up in the air to get momentum before their black and white head with red eyes disappears underwater. Species in V formations, including birds squawking like a pig or others with wings beating to the sound of a helicopter. Herons gliding low, Great Egrets circling in white brilliance, and bright yellow bodies contrasting with the arid brown and green of the central Washington landscape.

By observing topography and looking for good approaches, personal campsites are fairly easy to find. The highest rises may be only 25 feet above the water level, so small elevations rewarded us with panoramic views out to all horizons. Shade trees can be a more difficult and selective match, but I found a terrific campsite along a small "canal" that offered a tent-ready flat area by an overhanging tree with leaves that sounded like rain on a metal roof when the wind rose. And the privacy was constant; so constant that we could lounge around camp naked midday by the water, with only the birds as nonchalant voyeurs.

Camp in the evening was a pleasure too: talking, reading a book, watching the Sun set into a thin red horizon sky. The animal sounds continued to surround us, though different from the day. There was the deep baritone of bullfrogs, the high pitched buzz of insect wings, the chirp of crickets, and even a bird which made both of us look up startled since it sounded just like a cell phone ringing.

It is important to have a good sense of direction here and remember subtle variations in topography when winding through the vegetation covered dune islands of Potholes. Otherwise, stands of reeds run together and mini-islands blur, and a low-on-the-water kayaker can have quite a time finding a way through the tangle of half-submerged bushes that can extend from island to island. It can be fairly common to come into a cove that seemingly dead ends. But invariably we continued onwards without backtracking after some easy exploring along the edges for a passage through the bushes to a cove on the other side. With a lift of our paddles overhead and the gentle scrape of vegetation we would be through, bushes and spiky reeds springing back up in our wake whipping out droplets of water as we went. Sometimes finding that same path back from a completely different 180 degree view was another story, however.

Forward motion is the easy part, but finding your way back can be an interesting exercise in not getting lost if you are trying to return to a specific location and are out for many hours. Fortunately, I re-found our campsite from a distance since I had taken a mental picture of the tree over our tent. I saw it from a distance looking to the west, after we had already accidentally passed it on our trip back by an unplanned different route.

Heading southeast for a day out in the kayaks, we encountered more of the open aviary in all directions. Tall white egrets stood starkly against the grasses. Black Double-crested Cormorants literally ran on water from surface to air. And I was most impressed by the 3 foot circular floating rafts made of woven reeds made by the grebes. In the center of each was a dirt and twig nest with 2 or 3 bird eggs, all well camouflaged until upon them, when they were so easily visible and open to the big blue Washington sky. Definitely a birder's wonderland here, and much more to offer as well.