Camping in California Part I

Don't ever go to Yosemite. This is at least as much for Yosemite's sake as it is for yours. That's really all I'm going to say about it.

Our first stop of this trip was Lava Beds National Volcanic Monument, which is just south of the Oregon border in California. This was the site of both a huge shield volcano and lake Modoc, home of the native Americans of the same name. Of course the Euro-American settlers killed the Indians and drained the lake to sustain the farms that the settlers came to claim. Along with the fields of lava, there is a battlefield where the American cavalry was held off by a handful of outnumbered Modoc, petroglyphs from the Modoc, and amazing lava tube caves, many of which are hikable. So there's a great combination of historical/cultural and natural. We also saw a buck mule deer walk right next to our campsite early one morning, as well as many pretty birds that we don't see at home.

The most amazing thing we did there was take a trip down an ice cave. Most of the lava tubes were meandering and large, but not very deep. This particular cave, called Skull Cave, was straight down on a twisting, narrow metal staircase. With each step the air got cooler and the metal handrail was soon so cold my hand, which was gripping it for dear life was numb. At the end of the terrifying stairwell there was a metal gate to prevent anyone from going further. We were about to be really disappointed when we noticed that the floor was not actually the floor. Right in front of us the ice was so clear that it was several feet deep, which is why we didn't notice it at first. On the left side of this ice block were a bunch of teeth from something about the size of a dog. Apparently, in drought years both animals and people would come down here to get water. How on earth animals or people made it down without a stairwell is beyond me, but the evidence shows that a lot of the animals at least didn't make it back up. On our way out we noticed that in the sunny entrance there was a carving. Howard, one of the original Euro-American explorers signed his name and date in the rock: 1920!

Campsite, parents and sis in the orange tent, me and the dog in the blue. Notice the brooding clouds in the background.

My messy tent getting aired out.

Harper looks nonplussed as he and I wait for the rest of the family to come back from a hike. I didn't feel well and spent a few hours in camp hydrating and hanging out with the dog.

Ahh, lava rock and sage brush, the landscape east of the Cascades.

The cliff walls that the petroglyphs were carved into. The weren't as high back when the carvings took place, as the lake, now miles away, was a least a few feet deep here.

Some petroglyphs. I took a bunch of photos here, but decided to only post one. It was pretty neat and not something we generally see on our camping trips.

Fields of lava! This place is called Devil's Homestead, which everyone thought was pretty amusing.

Ceiling of Skull Cave.

Dad and youngest sister in the opening of Skull Cave. Couldn't get any shots inside the cave due to the darkness, but I thought this one was pretty neat.

Camping in California Part II

Next stop was down towards Yosemite. The plan was to camp about an hour from the park for a couple nights, then snag a campsite in the park for a few more nights. We got to a beautiful campground in the evening after a long drive through California and Nevada. Our one amusing stop for the day was in Nevada where one can apparently buy liquor in a pharmacy, which we did as the taxes are less than in Oregon. Also in the pharmacy, although we didn't participate, was a "game room" where you can play a slot machine, just in case you can't make it through your pharmacy trip without gambling. Oh, Nevada.

While most of us thought the campground was gorgeous, Dad was not impressed as the strong wind made setting up difficult and a fire impossible. He cheered up immensely as the newly purchased bottle of Jameson was opened and moments later he provided us one of the side-splittingly funny moments of the trip. After convincing Mom to have some whiskey, which she didn't really want he spied a mosquito buzzing around her. "Mosquito!" he shouted and swatted, supposedly, at the bug. Instead he connected squarely with the cup of Jameson, spraying it all over my bewildered mother. Dad was embarrassed and Mom was furious at the prospect of smelling like booze for the rest of the trip, so restraining laughter I found my sister who was brooding just outside the campsite to relay the story. It probably took me five attempts to get all the words out without doubling up with laughter. That night, the world's most tame and stupid deer walked right into our campsite while we were eating dinner and, four feet away from us, proceeded to chew on a piece of asphalt. Strange, to say the least.

The next day we drove to Yosemite to check out the park and to see how the campgrounds were filling up. The drive there was gorgeous, but as we got near the park we slowed to a halt to wait in a line of cars for admission. Once inside, it was pretty, but crowded and we weren't allowed to take the dog anywhere. One by one the campgrounds we investigated were ruled out and a huge fight broke out over whether we were to see another camp which was out of the way. I won and we drove an hour down a terrible road to discover that the campground sucked. I was relieved that we'd gone down there, otherwise we'd have camped there the next night. So the next day we went to Yosemite again and raced to a different campground only to have that filled. With no place to stay that night, we had another argument and finally settled on seeing the park quickly, then taking off for somewhere else as camping was not going to be an option nearby. Our tour was underwhelming to say the least. Again, don't go there, for the sake of the park.

Not sure exactly which mountains these are, but behind them is Yosemite. Behind me is the campsite. Quite the view with a short walk up the hill. The elevation - 7,000 ft - made it so I was winded just walking up here.

View of our camp.

I love the high desert. So beautiful.

Camping in California Part III

After fleeing Yosemite, we drove and drove and drove and finally got a hotel room far north, having changed our plans to Lassen Volcanic National Park. The rest of my family had been there years ago while I was in the army, so I was looking forward to getting to see it too.

It turned out to be a wonderful place, full of great views, interesting things like boiling mud pots and steaming fumeroles. We went on several beautiful hikes and while I hated our campsite - it was in the middle of the campground and I felt like we were in a fishbowl - the park itself was far better than Yosemite. My favorite part was getting my mom to go with my sister and I on an actual hike. She's diabetic and out of shape, afraid of heights and totally lacking in confidence in her abilities. The hike we went on was intimidatingly called Bumpass Hell. It lead to a thin part of the volcano where steaming holes of boiling water, acid and sulphur are visible. It was named after a guide who lost his leg when he stepped through the surface into a pit of boiling water. Mom was in full freakout mode when we had to cross patches of slippery snow, having just seen a bunch of signs warning, essentially, "Boiling water! Acid! Boiling acid! Do not leave the trail!!!!!" She did fine and I think she may have even enjoyed herself a bit. The end of the trail was totally worth it for me, being right next to all that crazy volcanic stuff.

I took a million pictures, but I'll spare you and only post a few.


Mt. Lassen, as seen from the Devastated Area. As the name implies, when the volcano exploded in 1915, this area took the brunt of it.

A moderately sized rock. How'd you like to see this thing flying in the air!

I forget the type of fracture this is called, but you can clearly see that the rock pieces fit together. Apparently volcanoes are hot.

Beautiful lake, Helen I think the name is. While we were on the Bumpass Hell hike, dad took the dog for a swim. Illegally, as it turned out since dogs were banned from swimming anywhere in the park. Whatever, it was too hot for a dog to hang out in the parking lot.

Boiling mudpot next to the main road through the park. There were a bunch of kids here and one of them said, "Ewww! It smells like Grandpa's farts!"

The view at the beginning of the Bumpass Hell trail. Beautiful meadow with a meandering stream.

Bumpass Hell! The next couple of photos are from there too.


This pond was at the very end of the boardwalk of Bumpass Hell. The pretty color is misleading, as I'm pretty sure it's some sort of horrible acid.