After spending the night at Castle Crags State Park, Alex and I drove north towards Oregon. We stopped in the "city" of Mt. Shasta, which sits at the base of the majestic Mt. Shasta. I do feel that majestic is an overplayed word when it comes to nature, but I believe Mt. Shasta deserves that descriptor. In Mt. Shasta, we navigated through a marathon and picked up croissants and coffee at a local coffee shop. Unfortunately we did not have time to explore more around Mt. Shasta and it is my dream someday to climb to the top.
Driving through northern California and southern Oregon is always a trip. I never find myself wanting to stop there until I get to Medford or Klamath because of the area's history. Combining counties from northern rural California and the southern Oregon, is the state of Jefferson. Jefferson is most famously known for a 1941 incident when a group of armed young men stopped traffic on Highway 99 south of Yreka handing out proclamations of independence. In recent years, the movement gained speed and popularity, particularly in the northern California counties.
On this road trip, we took Highway 97 from Weed northward, driving through the very pretty Klamath Falls. It is the county seat of Klamath County, Oregon and has a population of approximately 20,000. While the area is considered high desert, there is plenty of water with lakes and it is a great jumping off point for both Crater Lake National Park (approximately fifty miles north of Klamath) and Lava Beds National Monument (approximately thirty miles south in California).
From this point onward, the landscape is dominated by dense forest and as we gain elevation, the air gets cooler and crisper. Once we enter Crater Lake National Park we are surrounded by green and on right runs a deep river canyon. Oregon is always surprisingly green, more shades of green than your largest Crayola crayon box ever had.
Crater Lake National Park is Oregon's only national park and is absolutely deserves the designation of national park. An intensely blue picturesque lake surrounded by the nearly two thousand foot sheer cliffs of an ancient caldera of destroyed volcano Mount Mazama. At 1,943 deep, it is the deepest lake in the United States and the second deepest in North America. The lake is directly filled by precipitation in the form of rain and snow melt. Portions of Rim Drive, the road around the lake, can be blocked for nearly the entire year and summer is the best time to go due to snow.
After seeing how ridiculously crowded Steel Visitor Center was with the Bermuda shorted parents and screaming pig tailed kids, we drove up to the Rim Road and parked. The Rim Road perches you on top of the lip of the caldera and you feel like you are high above in the clouds; imagine Howl's Moving Castle but with a lot of fucking snow. From there you can see the entirety of the lake including the two islands, Wizard Island and Phantom Ship. Boat tours will take you out to the islands, but we wanted to see if we could get around the entirety of the lake before exploring more.
The Rim Road circles around the lake and I took the opportunity to enjoy the snow. As a native southern Californian, snow is a magical substance that occurs in mythical cold places home to Yetis and snowboarders. Whenever I see snow I become ridiculously excited, jump up and down and scream "SNOOOEWWWW". As you can possibly guess, I have never had to scrape snow off of a windshield or try to walk down a busy city street during a blizzard. Instead, I have endured years of endlessly perfect weather punctuated by extreme drought. I probably made a snow angel because that's what you do.
It was fourth of July and the Rim Road was not opened all the way around the lake. We were stopped by a sign battered by wind and snow, straight out of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. A sign that tells you something ominous, but life changing and exciting is beyond it. Having a campsite deadline, we did not have the opportunity to explore past this sign and enter into Mordor.
Crater Lake is a place I would like to revisit some day. I want to swim in it, brave my seasickness and take a boat out to one of the islands, and hike around the pinnacles. There's a reason places like these were worshiped by Native Americans. They are magical and awe inspiring, far more soul reaching than an invisible hand.