Psychedelic volcanic ash
Under the summer sun, our northward drive from Bakersfield to the Lassen Volcanic National Park is almost unbearably warm. However, when we arrive at the park, which is located near on the Californian side of the California-Oregon border, we see snow.
It's just after 6pm when we enter the park, so the grocery store and ranger stations have already closed for the day. Compared to the Grand Canyon National Park, Lassen is eerily desolate.
It's also cold -- frighteningly so. I hurriedly pull a jacket over my singlet top, as we leave the car to investigate the Manzanita Lake campgrounds.
The few occupied campsites are already gushing smoke, and we soon realise that without an open grocery store from which to buy firewood, camping may not be the best idea.
So we rent a $60, bare-bones cabin in the nearby town of Shingletown for the night. The cabin lacks bedside tables, lamps, curtains, clean bedding, and its own bathroom, but we bring in our own quilt from the car and sleep the sleep of the dead.
In the light of day, Lassen is far less formidable. We encounter a deer on its afternoon stroll as we make our way to the campgrounds, as well as a very brave, inquisitive squirrel under whose watchful eye Jim chats to the elderly campgrounds host about hiking, National Park attractions, Australia, the downfalls of the military...
At the host's recommendation, we hike up the nearby Cinder Cone volcano the next day. The cone rises some 230 metres above the surrounding area, which is covered in a mixture of grey ash and colourful sediments from a 1650s eruption.
We also visit Bathtub Lake but find it far less appealing than its name suggests, due to the cold and an infestation of mosquitos. Dinner is cheese and salami sandwiches and toasted marshmallows, as it was the night before.
On June 17th, we reluctantly leave the (relative) wilderness for the city of San Francisco. And a fitting greeting we receive, with heavy traffic all along our last 25 kilometre stretch from Richmond to San Francisco, and absolutely no street parking within four blocks of our new home!
It's just after 6pm when we enter the park, so the grocery store and ranger stations have already closed for the day. Compared to the Grand Canyon National Park, Lassen is eerily desolate.
It's also cold -- frighteningly so. I hurriedly pull a jacket over my singlet top, as we leave the car to investigate the Manzanita Lake campgrounds.
The few occupied campsites are already gushing smoke, and we soon realise that without an open grocery store from which to buy firewood, camping may not be the best idea.
So we rent a $60, bare-bones cabin in the nearby town of Shingletown for the night. The cabin lacks bedside tables, lamps, curtains, clean bedding, and its own bathroom, but we bring in our own quilt from the car and sleep the sleep of the dead.
In the light of day, Lassen is far less formidable. We encounter a deer on its afternoon stroll as we make our way to the campgrounds, as well as a very brave, inquisitive squirrel under whose watchful eye Jim chats to the elderly campgrounds host about hiking, National Park attractions, Australia, the downfalls of the military...
At the host's recommendation, we hike up the nearby Cinder Cone volcano the next day. The cone rises some 230 metres above the surrounding area, which is covered in a mixture of grey ash and colourful sediments from a 1650s eruption.
We also visit Bathtub Lake but find it far less appealing than its name suggests, due to the cold and an infestation of mosquitos. Dinner is cheese and salami sandwiches and toasted marshmallows, as it was the night before.
On June 17th, we reluctantly leave the (relative) wilderness for the city of San Francisco. And a fitting greeting we receive, with heavy traffic all along our last 25 kilometre stretch from Richmond to San Francisco, and absolutely no street parking within four blocks of our new home!
Labels: journeys, lassen, nationalparks, sanfrancisco
posted by liz at
9:27 AM
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