How can Devils Lake not be fable? A recent lava flow from the active South Sister, 2000 ybp, congealed, sheeny. A body of water, shallow, alive, reflecting. A half-spirit red on dark stone, magical, alluring.
To a design-artist, one Jennifer Lake, based lower in the watershed in Bend, an item in the fungible global dazzle: “Devils Lake Pictograph” fabric by the yard.[2]
To this writer, a palimpsest of places —Devils Chain, Talapus Butte, Devil Hill, Katsuk Pond, Kaleetan — and tumultuous re-rememberings — red rock paintings facing the rising sun.[3]
Drawing from Luther Cressman, Petroglyphs in Oregon, 1937.
Cressman did not visit the site; drawing from a photo provided by the editor of the Bend-Bulletin.
NOTES
About Devils Chain and South Sister:
https://www.usgs.gov/volcanoes/three-sisters/future-eruptions-around-three-sisters
https://volcano.si.edu/gallery/ShowImage.cfm?photo=GVP-03093
Northwest Research Obsidian Studies Laboratory, which uses the most distinct and notable image as its logo, provides a summary of the geology:
http://www.obsidianlab.com/domeart.html
[1] Lucille F. Saunders, Sunday Oregonian, July 25 1920.
[2] https://www.zazzle.com/devils_lake_pictograph_red_fabric-256010813198478509
[3] In Chinook jargon, the trade language of the Columbia Plateau, Talapus=Coyote. Kaleetan=Arrow, Katsuk=The center of anything, between, crossing…
Among the density of two centuries of study and writing about Chinook jargon, David Douglas Robertson presents on an extraordinary website: https://chinookjargon.com/
CODA
As is true of most places, in Oregon country who does the mapping does the naming. Those names have a staying power. When unraveling the markers and messages in old maps, language studies, journalings, and USGS surveys, a constant temptation: erase boundaries. This is not simply one of topography; it’s profoundly one of memory transforming itself.
As Octavio Paz wrote: Un archipiĆ©lago de signos/An archipelago of signs … and further in Blanco (1966):
I lose my shadow,
I walk
through intangible forests,
sudden sculptures of the wind,
endless things,
sharpened paths,
I walk
my steps
dissolving
in a space that evaporates
into thoughts I don't think