THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 245 
there about seven in the evening and found Mrs. Heising preparing 
a venison supper. Did we refuse? Not any more than anyone else 
who has ever tasted one of her meals. A great many people stop 
there during the summer and it is becoming well known as one of 
the favorite spots in Eastern Oregon. They have a house with a 
number of rooms with half a dozen tents in the yard, all situated 
among the tall pines, and it is no wonder-one can sleep so well after 
a day’s fishing. 
We camped for the night and the next day Bob and Billy took 
a trail on horseback to what is known as Wasco Lake, about nine 
miles from Heising’s and about five or six miles south from Mt. 
Jefferson. We were told that the lake had been stocked with Eastern 
Brook trout and that they were biting good. After reaching the 
lake they started fishing, but after a half-hour’s battle—not a skir- 
mish—with some of the fiercest mosquitoes ever known to exist, 
Billy quit and sought comfort in the blinding fumes of a smudge on 
the far hillside. Bob hung on till he landed a three-pounder. A 
beauty of a specie of Eastern trout. They saw great numbers of trout 
in the lake, mostly big fellows, and doubtless would have filled 
their baskets in a very short time had they not been overwhelmed 
with the attack of the aforesaid pests. 
While they were at the lake, Phil and I went into the woods 
after bear. We saw the tracks of two or three in road, made during 
the night before, but after endeavoring to track them and after 
spending several hours scouring the nearby woods, we gave it up and 
returned to camp. Deer and bear are both quite plentiful in the woods 
back of Heising’s, as the tracks we saw would indicate. 
We left Heising’s the next morning bound for our objective point— 
Lake Odell. We passed through Sisters and stopped at Bend where 
we replenished some of our supplies, left there in the afternoon and 
reached Crescent in the evening where we camped on the Little 
Deschutes over night. Before leaving for the lake the next morning 
we stopped at Crescent to get our Evinrude motor which we had 
shipped by express to that point. This we found exceptionally useful 
on the lake. It is about nineteen miles from Crescent to the lake, 
which we reached about ten o’clock. We pitched our camp on the 
outlet at the southern edge of the lake beneath some beautiful tall 
firs and prepared to enjoy ourselves on what we consider one of the 
most attractive spots in all Oregon. Bounded as it is by heavy 
timber sloping to the water’s edge, snow-capped peaks nearby, one 
mile in width’ by seven in length, water of a crystal clearness filled 
with trout, located at an elevation affording the most ideal summer 
weather for a vacation period, it has deservedly become well Known as 
a great outing resort. Dr. J. A. Reuter, of The Dalles, the surgeon 
of repute of the Pacific Coast, has a cabin on the lake where he fre- 
quently spends a period of several days throughout each season, 
from early spring till late in the fall. 
In my opinion, the keenest sport about the lake is the fly fishing. 
Some like the trolling. There is an abundance of redsides and Dolly 
Vardens, either of which will take the spoon. We caught several 
trolling, but our greatest catches were made with the fly. Bob and I 
having the honor of being the fly fishermen of the party, spent our 
time along the edge of the lake with our flies, while Phil and Billy 
consumed an alarming amount of gas motoring with the femininity 
in and about the secluded nooks of the lake. We staid at the lake five 
days and while there had some excellent fly fishing, nothing excep- 
tionally large, the largest of our catch being about seventeen inches, 
but all of good average length and very gamey. 
