BigWeather's Blog

Woke up and ate a tiny bit of food as neither Michelle or I were feeling particularly well.  The hotel was packed.  It seemed to be mainly foreigners, particularly French and Russian.  I noticed that last night at Fishermans Wharf as well — I guess the (relatively) weak dollar must be the cause.  Headed back to the room to rest for a tiny bit and try to feel better before setting out on the town.  Though we didn’t feel very well we didn’t want to waste our only full day in San Francisco.

About 11 o’clock we finally set out and walked down to the trolley stop not far from the hotel.  We took the trolley (Powell – Mason line) to Chinatown to do some shopping and find some lunch.  We ended up buying the day passes as we figured we’d get enough use out of them — this turned out to be wrong.

Stepping off the trolley at Powell and Washington we headed downhill into the heart of Chinatown.  There were some really interesting shops with everything from vegetables, to imported toys, to dried whole fish in the windows.

We ended up eating at Chinatown Restaurant and got three dishes as well as spring rolls to share.  We had sesame chicken, sweet and sour chicken, and Mongolian beef.  I know, not very daring, but we didn’t feel too great so our adventure threshold was pretty low.  Also got a bowl of steamed rice to share.  Addison and I got sweet tea but it had this weird aftertaste that was almost Yoohoo!-like.  Genetta got some hot tea and Michelle some ginger ale.  The food was decent, but we’ve had better.  Still it was fun to eat in Chinatown.

Afterwards we went shopping.  Other than our normal magnet we found some shuriken for Addison (and I got two for me, haha) as well as a small “jade” dragon for me.  Some stores we went into didn’t have any prices on the goods — I don’t know if they expected us to haggle or what so we just moved on to stores that did price their goods.  Genetta wanted to buy some jewelry, nothing too fancy, like some earrings or something.  She didn’t see anything in the gift shops we were shopping at so she went into a real jewelry store.  Eeeep!  They had a diamond necklace for just over $99,000.  Yikes!  A wee bit out of our price range.

We tried to take the trolley back towards the hotel (as we weren’t feeling great and wanted to rest a tiny bit and let the food settle) but it was too crowded.  We ended up walking (downhill, thankfully) about seven to ten blocks to the hotel, seeing Washington Square and the adjacent church (very neat), a distant view of the crooked part of Lombard Street, and areas of North Beach, as well as Coit Tower fairly near.  It was a beautiful day, nice breeze and not a cloud in the sky, and downhill so it went quite well.

After less than an hour of rest we headed out to Pier 39 to see the sea lions.  The sea lions are a recent phenomena to Pier 39, having appeared shortly after the 1989 earthquake.  At first there were just a couple but over time the numbers have swelled to sometimes 1,000 at a time.  Unlike Sea Lion Caves in Oregon the sea lions don’t use the area as a rookery, just as a place to swim free of predators (as they don’t enter the bay) and sun.  Also they are California sea lions, not Steller sea lions as in Oregon.

We greatly enjoyed watching them.  Most just lazed about, some even with their flippers dipped in the water.  Every once in a while one would jump in the water and play.  Some challenged each other, the loser getting knocked off the dock.  One dock had all of the sea lions on one corner so that it tilted at an extreme angle.

Genetta and I peeled off from Michelle and Addison and went to the end of the pier to check out Alcatraz.  We also saw a sailboat leaning far over due to the brisk wind as well as the sub and Liberty ship in the nearby pier.

After getting our fill of sea lions we headed down the middle of Pier 39 and hit a few shops.  They had some unique ones, that’s for sure.  They had a store catering to left-handed people called Lefty’s (what, no Leftorum?!), one dedicated to Irish goods (from which Genetta got some earrings), and two shops with just magnets.

We picked up the F bus and rode it to as close to Ghirardelli Square as we could.  Back in the day the chocolate was actually made in the city block but the buildings have long since been converted to shopping and restaurants, and of course a Ghirardelli store.  There we got some chocolate and ice cream.

Across the street was a municipal beach that was protected from the waves of the bay.  Swimmers were swimming the great distance from the west end of the beach to the east.  There were also some historical boats, like a multi-masted wooden one, nearby as well.

I decided I wanted to see Lombard Street up close so we stood in line waiting for a trolley.  What a waste of time, they were way too crowded.  Addison and I ended up walking the four blocks uphill (at an amazing slope — and each block got steeper and steeper) where we emerged at the top of the crooked portion of Lombard Street.  We took some pictures then descended steps adjacent to the crooked road.  Along the way we enjoyed looking at a lot of cool houses, including one that had a beautiful vine with purple flowers growing all over it.

Michelle noticed, the next morning, that the third car from the bottom in the picture above is going down backwards.  Cuh-razy.

As we descended back to the public beach to meet Genetta and Michelle we enjoyed wonderful views of the bay to the north as well as the neighborhoods to the east that we had walked through earlier in the day.  Genetta and Michelle had gone shopping in Ghirardelli Square in our absence.

It was about this time that we noticed a large, black plume of smoke coming from across the bay.  Soon we could see huge jets of flame.  We’d later learn that a Chevron-owned oil refinery in Richmond had an explosion.

We sought dinner at Lori’s Cafe where Genetta, Addison, and I had hotdogs and Michelle had some grilled cheese.  Wasn’t great, but wasn’t that bad either.  Headed back to the room and blogged while Michelle slept and the kids played on their iPads.

Note: After the first picture something must’ve gotten on my camera lens that I failed to catch.  Grrr…

We didn’t try to get up too early, given the very long day prior in Yosemite.  We had breakfast buffet at Tenaya Lodge.  It wasn’t bad at all, and they had a great variety of breakfast items from usual suspects of cereals, breads, eggs, bacon, and sausage but also cheese, fruit (strawberries and blueberries, yum!), quiche (with an unnecessary accent aigu on the e), and french toast (with brown sugar on top, double yum!).

After checking out we headed towards the Central Valley of California via route 41 (with a quick stop for sweet tea at McDonalds).  Wooded mountains gave way to scrubby hills before finally settling into the very flat and wide valley.  We traveled 99 from just north of Fresno all the way to just north of Modesto, stopping at McDonalds for lunch in Merced along the way.  This part of the drive passed pistachio groves, corn fields, and tons of other crops I wasn’t sure of.  In one field we even saw a very well defined dust devil that rose at least a hundred feet in the air.  Really, really cool, I had never seen such a wonderful specimen of dust devil before.

North of Modesto we turned on to interstate 580 which took us out of the Central Valley by going up and over a part of the coastal ranges.  We went past Livermore and the thousands of windmills lining the ridges and generating power.  So neat, I remembered seeing them almost two decades ago with Michelle.  Traffic really picked up in Oakland, where we opted not to take the Bay Bridge but rather take the bridge in Richmond just south of San Pablo Bay (the very same San Pablo Bay that Les Claypool is talking about in his songs) over to the Marin County peninsula north of San Francisco.

After passing San Quentin, California’s oldest prison, we turned off of route 101 and on to route 1 towards Muir Beach.  We only thought we had seen the last of the narrow winding roads when we left the mountains for the last time!  Other than Crater’s road Michelle was hard pressed to think of one worse out of all we had seen.

We arrived at Muir Beach and were able to easily park since it was past 3 o’clock.  After a short trip via boardwalk over some marshy land, we were on the sandy beach with a couple of large rocks in the water.  The biggest rock was called “Wobbly Rock” by hippies in the 1960s.  Though there were quite a few people it didn’t feel crowded as the beach was quite wide.  There were strands of kelp, little quarter-sized jellyfish, and lots of gull feathers strewn about the sand.

On either side of the beach was an area of rocks that extended well into the surf.  Addison and I climbed about both areas looking for starfish and the like in “tidal pools”.  Though the area didn’t have what I’d consider classic tidal pools, the rocks were a nice potential refuge for sea critters.  After some looking we eventually saw three crabs, numerous snails, and a sea sponge or some such.  Though we never did find a starfish we had a great time looking.

We joined Michelle and Genetta back at the car then headed back up route 1 to 101 and towards the Marin headlands that overlook the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco.  We were unable to find parking, however, and so I was only able to snap pictures from the moving car — something I’ve become quite good at on this trip!  The city and Alcatraz gleamed white, the water blue, but most amazingly the bridge and its supports red.  Absolutely gorgeous.

We did end up stopping right near the entrance to the bridge so I could take some pictures.  There was a walkway down a set of steps made with railroad ties (well nosed by years of use) that went under the bridge then up again on the other side to a spot that had a wonderful view of the city.  I stayed a while and took pictures before heading back to the car.

The trip into San Francisco was a bit interesting due to very heavy traffic and construction.  Combine that with some of the hills (and one driver behind us that didn’t understand that one should leave room between cars — we almost rolled back on him twice) and we were relieved to turn off of route 101 (Lombard St.) and on to Van Ness and then North Point near Fisherman’s Wharf where our HIEx was located.

After getting settled in (and getting help from a very nice valet parking attendant as well as front-desk person) we headed out for dinner.  Michelle was feeling quite cold (lots of shivering) and by the time we found dinner at Boudin (a bakery famous for sourdough bread and bread bowls filled with clam chowder, tomato soup, chili, etc.) she was much worse for the wear, barely eating and instead just laying her head down on the table.  We hastened back to the room and let her rest while the kids played and I blogged.

I was remiss in the prior day’s blog in not mentioning what a beautiful location the Minden, Nevada HIEx we stayed in had — gorgeous view of the Sierra Nevada from the pool and breakfast room.  We woke up at 5a or so and were on the road by 7a in an attempt to get into Yosemite by 9a.  Really proud we were able to pull that off!  After McDonalds and gas we headed down route 395 to the end of Carson Valley, passing several ranches, and then into the hills.

The hills were rocky with scrub bushes dotting them.  We listened to the surprisingly close USA v. Lithuania basketball game (USA won 99-94, incidentally the score in the NCSU v. UNC game in 1991 when the Wolfpack won for the second time that season) as we drove on the windy road alongside a rocky stream.  We passed a very pretty blue lake called, appropriately enough, Topaz Lake and eventually arrived at Mono Lake and the town of Lee Vining, California.

We turned on to route 120, Tioga Pass Road, and drove the sixteen miles to the park entrance at Tioga Pass, elevation 9,945 feet.  We were stuck behind this really slow truck the whole time, until he finally turned off the road and into a campground.  Earlier a RV had courteously used a turnout to let the faster traffic by but the truck didn’t take the hint.  We also saw a helicopter flying low near the road and land at what must have been a helipad hidden from our view.

The peaks, despite weighing in at an impressive 10,000 feet plus, didn’t seem as huge as we were at nearly 10,000 feet ourselves.  Meadows, including the famous Tuolumne Meadows — the largest alpine meadow in the Sierra Nevadas, were all about, as well as small ponds.  Unfortunately the flowers were all gone, whether by drought or just being late season I don’t know.  It left the meadows brown, the main color coming from rocks that were scattered all about, deposited by glaciers long ago.  We stopped by the visitor center to acquaint ourselves with the park and what to see and do.  There were many hikers, including one just sitting in a portable chair in a meadow reading a book and relaxing.

During the long drive down to the village center we stopped a few times.  First at Tenaya Lake, a beautiful alpine lake surrounded by peaks.  Later we came to Olmsted Point, a vista that offered an amazing view backwards to Tenaya Lake as well as of Half Dome and parts of the valley.  It was named after Frederick Law Olmsted, famed landscape architect, who designed New York City’s Central Park and the Biltmore Estate’s landscape, among other things.  There were many hillsides worn smooth by glaciers and populated by many free-standing boulders deposited by glaciers as well.  It got to the point that I think “A glacier did it” is the geological equivalent of the standard answer for how things work in much fantasy, like Harry Potter — “A wizard did it.”

Arriving at the bottom of Tioga Pass Road we turned east into the valley, descending still and going through several tunnels.  Every once in a while we’d catch a stunning glimpse of the El Capitan or Half Dome, and even saw that Bridal Veil Falls was still flowing a little bit.  We were directed by a ranger to park pretty far from the village near a low stone bridge that offered a very nice view of Half Dome.

We first grabbed lunch, right at noon, at Dagnan’s Deli in the Village.  It wasn’t bad, Addison and I had meatball subs and the ladies had a pepperoni pizza.  We then checked out the Village Store as well as blew through the displays in the visitor center, and opted out of the Yosemite Museum as well as the Ansel Adams gallery.

Unfortunately the Valley was super crowded, as it was twenty years ago during my first visit.  Eager to get away I led the family on the small loop trail to Lower Yosemite Falls.  Sadly, it too was crowded and it turns out the falls were just a trickle — the bone dry stream beds and lack of any noise should’ve been a clue there.  You’d think the rangers would have a sign saying something to the effect of “Falls are dry, don’t waste your time!” at the head of the trail but ah well.  There were people (stupidly, in my mind) climbing up the dry falls bed strewn with huge boulders.

Right after the walk we head a couple of cracks of thunder and saw a lightning flash.  We had just made it back to the covered area at the Lower Yosemite Falls trail head when it started to rain.  Not super heavy or anything, and clearing in short order, it was nonetheless the first rain we had experienced during our two week (thus far) trip — incredible considering most of that was in the normally raining Pacific Northwest!

When the rain let up we set out for the car.  We saw a monarch butterfly that flitted close to us for quite a bit as well as some mule deer.  The first mule deer sighting was a male and female that were prancing about.  The male ran right in front of a car but luckily didn’t hit it while the female stopped short and decided not to risk it (smart!) — possibly because of her fawn which just came into view.  Some stupid tourists were getting as close to the fawn as possible and the mother moved in between them and her baby and stood her ground ferociously before a ranger saw it and yelled at the tourists to leave the fawn alone.

We crossed the street on to a boardwalk that crossed the large meadow (and some marsh) in the center of the Valley.  So this is where all the views had been hiding!  The Valley was thickly wooded outside of the meadow, obscuring gorgeous views of El Capitan and Half Dome, among others.  We also saw a second set of mule deer just relaxing in the shade of a tree.  Both had a nice sets of antlers.

Back at the car we headed out of the crowded valley and towards Glacier Point Road on route 41.  There was an incredible view to be had just prior to entering the long tunnel that led out of the Valley but we had to pass on it as no parking was to be found.

Glacier Point Road was quite interesting — a steady climb with quite a few curves and little to no shoulder leading to a steep drop.  We made it almost to the end of the twenty or so mile long road when a ranger blocked the road and was saying that law enforcement had closed the point.  Other people were parking on the sides of the road and walking the remaining distance, but we figured that if the road was closed it was for a reason and headed back down towards Mariposa Grove of giant sequoia trees.  A darn shame, as the view from Glacier Point is considered to be one of the best.

We got near the Mariposa Grove just after 5 o’clock and turned into the parking lot of the Pioneer Museum as the Grove lot was supposedly full.  There we bought some candy and such and learned that the Grove lot probably wasn’t full at the late hour but that the last guided tour tram ran at 5 o’clock.  The cashier said that she heard that Glacier Point had been closed due to an accident, but we never found out for sure (someone else said a hang gliding accident).

We parked at the Grove and enjoyed seeing even the giant sequoias to be found in the parking area.  Amazing trees!  Though not as high as the upper-300 foot tall redwoods the giant sequoias have very wide trunks and are the most voluminous trees in the world.  They are also long-lived, several in the grove were around 1,500 years old.

As we had missed the tram we decided to walk to the California Tunnel Tree, about 0.6 miles away (so a round trip total of just over a mile).  It was a moderate climb, climbing about 400 feet in that distance (nothing compared to the Valley to Glacier Point trail — 3,000 feet over four miles!).  Sadly, despite a split rail fence and repeated signs asking people to stay on the trail (as stepping near the trees can damage the root system and, eventually, the trees), some people just couldn’t resist going right up to the trees to get their picture taken.  I walked past one group and told them I hoped the tree fell on them but then realized that was a bit mean.  Oh well.

The trail started by passing by a huge fallen tree, one that had been documented down even in the late-1800s.  Soldiers charged with protecting the grove (set aside by President Lincoln in 1864 along with the Valley) posed by it every year for many, many years.  It was immense, particularly the root of the trunk.

We saw a small cluster of trees called the Bachelor and the Three Graces — the Three Graces were right on top of each other!  Apparently giant sequoias, when that close to others, doesn’t compete with them as most tress do.  Rather their root systems intertwine and they can share water and such.  Nifty.

It was at this point that Michelle decided not to go the remaining 0.3 miles and instead just sit on the bench.  Addison, Genetta, and I hiked on, up the steep and very dusty trail, to the Grizzly Giant.  What an immense tree! Impressive in a way that no other tree I’ve ever seen could be.  Its top had died and fallen off, likely because at a certain height giant sequoias can’t get groundwater far enough up.

Another 50 yards and we were at our goal, the California Tunnel Tree.  There had been another tunnel tree, through which millions passed from the late-1800s through the 1960s when it finally fell under an enormous weight of snow.  It and the California Tunnel Tree were great examples of early promotion of the park that often involved altering nature to attract visitors.  If the other tree had not had a tunnel cut into its trunk it would’ve probably been strong enough to support the snow.

We headed back down to the parking lot, picking up Michelle on our way.  Climbed into the car for the very short (about five miles) trip to Fish Camp and our hotel for the night, Tenaya Lodge.  It was a bit out of our league fancy-wise, offering stuff like rock climbing, archery (which Genetta was dismayed to learn we wouldn’t be around for the next morning) and several restaurants of varying degrees of fanciness.

We relaxed in the room a bit before heading down for dinner.  Since the ice cream store was closing soon I ordered for future dessert a coffee milkshake.  We were finally seated at Jackalopes Bar and Grill where I had a salad and some french onion soup.  Good stuff!  The kids had burgers, which they enjoyed, while Michelle had soup and grilled cheese.

Once back at the room Addison and I got our swim trunks on and went to the pool and hot tub for an hour or so, returning to the room about midnight and finding Michelle and Genetta fast asleep.

While I was bummed to miss the falls (due to them being dry) which led us to get to Glacier Point after it closed (and missing that as well) which led us to miss the tram tour of Mariposa it was not all without a silver lining.  We saw all those mule deer, weren’t involved in whatever went down at Glacier Point, and got some nice exercise hiking about the Mariposa Grove.  It was all good.

A note, though, to anyone wanting to visit Yosemite — go in the spring or early summer.  Not only are the meadows in full bloom but the waterfalls are flush with snow melt.  Also get there early — by even 10 o’clock the park is a bit jam packed.

The breakfast at the Best Western in Chester wasn’t great at all — a shame, as the hotel itself, room, etc. was nice.  Basically nailed the routine but failed to stick the landing.

We set out east on route 36, catching a glimpse of the lake Chester sat on, Lake Almanor, shrouded in the morning fog.  We went as far as Susanville where we gassed up and got some McDonalds.  Turning onto 395 we headed to the south and east towards Nevada, passing a nearly totally dry Honey Lake.  When wet it encompasses 73 square miles but at the height of summer shrinks to just 3,000 acres, leaving a salt flat for the rest.

After passing Honey Lake we slipped into Nevada — no welcome signs or anything, ba humbug!  We were shortly in Reno and the visibility was getting less and less, to the point where we could barely see the mountains in the distance.  I suppose it was smoke from the Chips Fire.

A bit south of Reno we took route 431 over the mountains to the west of Reno and into Incline Village.  The road was quite steep and very curvy and to make it even more fun was under construction.  But that’s not all!  Apparently the PGA Tour was in town at Montreux, NV, further increasing traffic.  I stopped and took a picture or two at vistas but there was an incredible view that I had to pass up on because we were constrained by construction traffic barrels.  Ah well.

We drove through Incline Village and stopped at the visitor center.  They pointed us to a delicatessen for lunch on the west side of town.  Rather than go back through town (and fight the large amount of traffic) we drove back into the village via the road bordering the lake.  What an amazing collection of houses, most behind gates and cameras!  Many were for sale, though, but I’m sure they were well into the millions.  The delicatessen, Dimaggio’s I think, was attached to a convenience store and wasn’t bad.  I had a salami and provolone sandwich and a grape soda (yum!).

That done we headed around the east shore of Lake Tahoe on route 28.  The lake was a beautiful blue, much like Crater (but Crater was better, I think), with gray mountains ringing it — some even with a little bit of snow left.  We had heard that the best views of the lake were near Sand Harbor in Nevada’s Tahoe State Park so we set out for that.  Unfortunately the lot was full and we were not keen on going all the way back to Incline Village to grab the bus service back to Sand Harbor.

We opted to continue on, stopping briefly at a vista first.  There we learned that the lake was formed when two faults separated, leaving the crust in between them to sink down, forming Tahoe’s basin.  Then, some time later, debris blocked the outflow from the lake via the Truckee River, raising the lake level by 600 feet.  With that Lake Tahoe’s depth was around 1,645 feet, with visibilities of nearly 75 feet (about half what Crater’s was).  Though a number of streams bring water in to Lake tahoe, only the Truckee releases water.  One would expect the water to eventually make it to the Pacific but in reality it flows to Pyramid Lake, Nevada where it evaporates (well, the water that wasn’t already siphoned off for irrigation and the like).

After the rest area we rode along route 28 and then merged with US-50.  We ended up stopping at Nevada Beach and found a nice picnic table in the shade to enjoy the nice summer day (high in the mid-80s and a light breeze).  The beach was a bit crowded but not too bad.  Addison went back on forth on whether to swim or not and he and I just ended up wading instead.  The beach was made of tiny rocks that hurt the feet when standing.  The water wasn’t too bad, in the upper-60s, and we enjoyed getting wet.  There were also a couple of seagulls that didn’t seem to mind having humans around at all.

After an hour and change we returned to the car and continued to drive past State Line, NV and into South Lake Tahoe, CA.  The casinos went right up to the state line, to be replaced with hotels, restaurants, etc. on the California side.  Just way, way too many people so we didn’t even bother stopping.  We had considered doing the drive around Emerald Bay but it wasn’t a particularly easy drive the last time we did it (in the mid-90s) and Crater was prettier so we just passed.

Leaving Lake Tahoe at South Lake Tahoe we just headed towards Minden, NV via routes 88 and 89 and Carson and Luther Passes.  Much easier road than our trip in to the lake, staying much lower in elevation (though still 7,000 feet) and relatively straight compared to the earlier route.  The vegetation also became more and more sparse as we neared Nevada and a thunderstorm was in the process of blowing up.  It was kind of nice seeing some clouds — we’ve had freakishly good luck weather-wise with many clear days.

In Nevada the road became flat and straight as an arrow as we headed north through the Carson Valley towards Minden.  There were many farms (and many of them for sale) and it was hard to believe that such a lush valley sat only miles to the west of the inhospitable terrain found a bit to the east.

We checked into our hotel and immediately crossed the street to the Wild Horse Saloon and Pizza Co. where we had excellent homemade potato chips and burgers and chicken sandwiches.  Yummy!

Back at the room we went swimming in both the pool and the hot tub for an hour or so.  Genetta and Addison both swam excellent laps while Michelle and I relaxed.  Back at the room they went on to bed while I blogged.  Early day tomorrow — Yosemite!

Woke up and ate breakfast buffet at the restaurant attached to the Best Western.  It was quite good compared to the similar Holiday Inn Express fare.  Got some sweet tea (with very little ice — rationing?) and gas and headed east on route 299 towards Burney.  The way was a bit curvy and there were a number of rises and falls, but it was a very pretty route.  Some fields we passed were strewn with large chunks of volcanic-looking rock, likely hurled from the nearby volcanoes long ago.  The brush, bushes, and trees looked very, very dry.

We passed the town of Burney, which incidentally seems like tempting fate in an area that gets frequent wildfires (two very active ones in the area, one near Mount Shasta and another near Chester that’ll be mentioned later).  Just beyond it was a four way stop that had not only many blinking red lights but also a long series of rumble strips to draw attention to the intersection.  I wonder what terrible tragedy hit that intersection for them to be that cautious.  Turned left onto route 89 towards Burney Falls.

Burney Falls is gorgeous!  The source of the falls is water from Burney Mountain some fifteen miles away.  Water from the mountain (rainfall and snow melt) stays underground until just three-quarters of a mile up from the falls where most of it is forced to the surface in the form of a creek.  Meanwhile, just 20 or 30 feet below, the rest of the water remains underground in a reservoir.  The creek cut into softer rock forming a narrow falls.  Eventually the waterfall advanced such that the underground reservoir was exposed to and resulted in a wide swatch of smaller, lower volume falls that start lower than the creek’s falls.  The falls are 129 feet in height and empty into a 22 foot deep pool that is a gorgeous blue.

In addition, the temperature around the falls is much cooler than that of the surrounding area by 10 to 20F at least (that’s me just estimating).  That and a steady moisture source in the mist leads to the environment of the falls containing plants normally not found in the area but rather more like those found in the coastal regions of California.

We took a trail down to the base of the falls and spent many a moment just enjoying the cool air, the wonderful sound of the water crashing into the pool, and just taking it all in.  Reluctantly we headed back up the trail and to our cars, starting the trip down 89 to Lassen Volcanic National Park.

There was evidence of fire damage in the Lassen National Forest land to the north of the park.  As was explained to us in Crater Lake National Park, national forest land is managed differently than national park land, in that they treat the forest as a cash crop.  Though they are slowly coming around to the national park system’s view of forest management their forests are still more vulnerable to devastating forest fires.  While forest fires on national park land will often smolder for long periods of time they rarely flame up and destroy the trees as well, whereas national forest fires are more likely to do just that.

We stopped for lunch at a place called JJ’s Cafe (I think) about fifteen miles short of the northern entrance to the national park.  I had a pastrami melt and a salad and the others had sandwiches and burgers as well.  Decent food and good service.  Full, we headed into the park around 2 o’clock, a bit later than I had hoped.  This happened with the other vacations as well — as it gets later in the vacation we’re all getting just a bit more tired and losing a bit of pep in our step.  Oh, well, not much to be done about that.

We stopped at the visitor center and learned a bit about the park.  The park actually has examples of each of the four types of volcanoes (dome, plug, cinder cone, and strato) and also has three of the four thermal features (fumaroles, hot springs, and mudpots — lacking geysers).  The presence of these features means that the area is still active volcanically, though the last eruption was in 1914 and 1915.  It was those eruptions, in fact, that prompted the land finally being incorporated into the national park system.

One thing that impressed me greatly about the vegetation in the park was that it was able to grow in seemingly the most inhospitable environment.  Whether it was fairly large trees growing among fist-sized and larger rocks, or in what appeared to be an ash field, I remain amazed at the resilience of nature.

Along the drive through the northern half of the park we saw a couple of really interesting things.  There was a 300-ton boulder that was a “hot rock” that triggered an avalanche by melting the snow rapidly, the avalanche then carried the rock five miles away from Lassen.  After the May 19th, 1915 a man by the name of Loomis was surveying damage on the 22nd and, luckily for him, did not tarry in the area — for mere hours later a much larger eruption took place that obliterated the area he was surveying.  He also got a series of six photographs of the eruption.  A man affected by the mud and debris flow, or lahar, of the May 22nd eruption ran three miles to warn homesteaders further away of the impending danger.  Though they lost their homes not a single life was lost.

Another thing we saw was a lot of the trees in the northern part of the park were covered in lime green moss, or lichen, or whatever.  Not just the trunks, but in some cases all of the branches.  No idea what it was but it was oddly pretty.

As we neared the center of the park near the base of Lassen we gained elevation.  The trees got smaller and smaller and the ground a bit rockier.  There also were more meadows and such.  The ground was covered with rocks, some dead trunks, and the most amazing varieties of wildflowers.  Excuse me while I reveal my total ignorance in this regard by just saying there were purple flowers, yellow flowers, green ground cover, this odd whitish-gray ground cover, etc.  Regardless, the place was definitely a photographer’s dream… or curse.  It seemed like every minute arrangement of rock, tree, and flower was worthy of a picture or two.

Off in the distance we could see the massive smoke plume from the Chips Fire west of Chester (our destination for the night).  As it was a cloudless sky it really stood out.  There were also a couple of lakes around the base, deep blue and reflecting their surroundings.

Just past the lakes and the trail head up to Lassen’s summit (not fully open yet) was the trail head to an area called Bumpass Hell.  A moderate three-mile walk that ended in a sixteen acre or so area of fumaroles, hot springs, and mudpots.  We dithered a bit about whether or not to take the walk but I finally realized it just wasn’t the brightest idea — everyone was tired, it was already past four (which means we wouldn’t be done until seven or so), and we didn’t have much water at all.  Plus we saw all of those features in greater quantity and quality during our trip to Yellowstone in 2010.

Why was it called Bumpass Hell?  Despite it being amusing for containing two curse words (something Addison and I relished), it came from a cowboy with last name Bumpass that stumbled onto the site in the 1860s.  Not only stumbled onto, but into, in that his leg broke through the crust and was broken.  He made it to town and called it “hell.”  A newspaper editor, however, convinced Bumpass to take him to the site — whereupon Bumpass again broke through the crust and this time had to have his leg amputated.  Ouch!

Regardless, from the trail there were a few pretty vistas and a cool free-hanging boulder.  So it wasn’t a total loss.  We piled back into the car and began the descent from the highest point on the park’s road, about 8,500 feet, on down to lower elevations.

Along the way we passed several peaks that had once been ridges of a much larger volcano (about 11,500 feet high) that erupted about 400,000 years ago.  One of those was Diamond Peak, which had a really interesting jagged rock formation at it’s top.

Just before exiting the park we came upon Sulphur Works and Little Hot Springs Valley.  Though much, much smaller than Bumpass Hell they contained some fumaroles, a mudpot, and some hot springs.  It was cool (if a bit icky) to smell the rotten egg smell again, bringing back memories of Yellowstone.  That and the heat from the sites.  I loved the slight hissing sound as well as the constant gurgling of the mudpots.  Really amazing (and a bit scary) to think of the magma pool below driving all of the thermal features.

On the way out of the park we stopped for our customary magnet and headed to Chester via route 89.  We got into town about 6 o’clock and, after quickly checking in to our hotel (another Best Western, though at least this one wasn’t as motel-ish), headed to Mexican food at a place called Maria’s.  It was good, I had the chorizo nachos (basically nachos with spicy sausage) and Michelle’s chicken flautas looked really tasty.  Afterwards we went for some ice cream then returned to the hotel where we watched the Olympics, played Sorry! (the hotel had some games available to play), and blogged.