Never Say Never (2/4)

Surprise at the lake

	Lake Tahoe on California - Nevada border.

	An island on Lake Tahoe, Emerald Bay, from the lookout where a bear came to us.

We arrived to LAKE TAHOE by early evening after our rafting, tired and cold. Dinner warmed us up a bit, so we hurried to watch a sunset -- a guaranteed attraction of any lake surrounded by mountains. Sid insisted that he had to show me Emerald Bay. We stood there on an outlook, enjoying our view to an illuminated touristic steamboat, not paying attention to some woman yelping on the other end of the parking lot, so she resolved to get closer to us. I thought it would be some "holly roller" who came to chastise us for our kissing in public. But she arrived and said, "listen, guys, I don't want to startle you, but there's a big black bear coming your way." I asked bravely where it was and listened for cracking and puffing that a huge beast must definitely make. The lady indicated a direction - and shock! One of the larger boulders beneath the lookout was moving. What was worse, it was moving towards us. I think I did not yell, nor did I faint, I just asked in small voice, what will we do now? It was about twelve yards to our Wagon - definitely a lot farther than to the merciless predator. Sid said that we will slowly, SLOWLY walk up to our car, pick up our gun, and go see the bear up close. But he did not wait for us. Before we got to the car, he trotted over to another side of the parking lot. Meanwhile, another car arrived with four people. When they got out, I wanted to warn them of the bear, and to my surprise they did not scatter, only eagerly asked "where?" and drove away in that direction. Poor bear.

If you're wondering why we did not take a picture of the bear, be aware that it was because it was dark, and because he was fast. Our cameras were in the car -- we did not expect anything like this in a tourist rest area. Anyway -- taking pictures was the last thing we would tend to do at that time.

Darkness had fallen and it was time to make camp. Sid navigated me somewhere into the woods, we trundled over dirt roads, had to turn back a few times, until we stopped on a clearing. He started motioning towards our tent, but consider -- would you sleep in a tent, separated from freely roaming bears by a mere synthetic fabric??? I tried to suggest that I'd really prefer a motel, but to no avail. Eventually I overruled his intentions and at least we slept in the car again, at the price of me having nightmares featuring a furry animal who puts his claws right into the open breathing gap of our door window and pushes this laughable piece of glass away to finally reach for his meal.

Ascending a volcano

	Our parked Wagon transformed into a tiny dot down there

	Helena Lake from the slope of Lassen Peak - those fuzzy critters have a hell of a view!

The morning was beautiful and it seemed improbable that such a beautiful forest would harbor a dangerous wild animal. I let Sid sleep and admired fully grown trees, wrapped in lichen. Then I found a large stump and started to prepare breakfast. I finished very quickly -- experienced professionals at REI sold us a gas stove and a gas tank -- only they would not fit together. I condemned them (and Sid probably did, too -- I'm unbearable without my morning coffee ), but that's all I could do.

At QUINCY, my caffeine withdrawal became severe, and we had to stop at some Mexican coffee shop, going right for lunch. We got burritos we could not possibly finish, and at this place I would like to reiterate that I consider the custom - to refill one's coffee mug - VERY civilized. Americans are INCREDIBLY NICE people.

Good spirits lasted only a few miles -- exactly to the spot where I discovered I was missing my glasses. They cost me a lot of money and we had to turn back. We did not even stop the engine, and a waitress already ran out of the shop with them in hand. She said she thought they were pretty expensive and she did not know where to mail them.

	A ground squirrel in a garden, eating something, ignoring us...

Hooray, hooray, I got my glasses back, I can see more of America's beauty.

LASSEN NP is a volcanic park. A few areas are still active, so our first stop was at sulfur springs. Yellow and green water seemed like out of a fairy tale, only if it did not smell so bad. Yet, what would you want from sulfur springs? Passing two glacier lakes -- Emerald and Helena, we arrived to the highest mountain, Lassen Peak.

	Yo, fatso, gimme somethin' yummy!

After a short discussion we elected to "run up" the Peak. The lower part was quite acceptable, a well trodden tourist trail curved under shady trees. At a higher elevation, remnants of last snow season crouched in every shady corner, awfully romantic. The higher we hiked, the more difficult it was to breathe. Trees gave way to bare rock and "moon climate" prevailed -- hot in the sun, frosty in a shade. In the end, it was cold all the time. A short distance from the top, we got surprised by a plenitude of colorful flowers, growing among rocks on the slope. Ground squirrels hopped around in this garden (if you ever saw Disney's Chip & Dale, those are the ones). Quietly and very carefully, I took a picture of one. Sid watched me with a slight disagreement in his face, and then said, chmmmm, and walked up to about two steps away from the most courageous squirrel in the bunch, filliping his fingers. I expected the poor shy animal to get terribly scared, but he did not even think about it - he gazed quizzingly instead, if this huge man produces any lunch. Simply corrupted fuzzies.

	A view to a lava slope from the top

Eventually, LASSEN PEAK (10,457 feet) got conquered. I must truthfully admit that I felt overcome, too. The top includes a crater, an air traffic radio beacon, and offers a view down, over a lava slope. Lassen Peak exploded last time in 1920's and you can still see the damage.

Having stumbled down to our car, we went looking for a place to sleep. A National forest begins, fortunately, right outside the Park. The forest is for everyone, at this one it was only forbidden to make fire and hunt game. Unlimited camping. I let myself get convinced to sleep in a tent this time. Still after dark, I took a bug repellent away to the car. Who knows what smell could lure a bear to invite him to eat it!

Mysterious Blue Crater

	Wizard Island on Crater Lake

	Bluest lake in America, perfectly potable, 2 kilometers above sea level.

Rain drops woke us up in the morning, hitting our tents. I called an alarm and in the pause between the second and third drop (making them all that fell that day), we managed to pack. A dark cloud rolled aside and we felt like idiots. Never mind, at least we got an early start.

We ate in KLAMATH FALLS, at a Mongolian Buffet. It works as follows: you pay for one of three available bowl sizes. You get the bowl, walk up to a bar, fill it with vegetables, raw meat, noodles, juices and sauces, and pass it on to a cook attending to a large (about 6 ft in diameter) hot plate. He puts the contents of your bowl onto the plate, frying it all in one big heap, and pushes it back with an elongated shovel onto a plate. Yummy.

In a short while we were in FORT KLAMATH, looking for lodging We got lucky at a second (and last) motel in town, and still had plenty of time to visit CRATER LAKE. There used to be a huge volcano here, Mt. Mazama, which exploded long ago and the remains fell in and created a hole, today filled up with waters of a lake, at about 6,000 feet elevation. The top of the crater rim is about 1,000 feet higher, the lake is some 2,000 feet deep (they're currently working on a project to map the depths with ultrasound -- only 20 feet remain to make Crater Lake the deepest lake in North America). It is about 6 miles across in the widest spot, rarely freezes (last time in 1949). The lake's water is very clear, and comes exclusively from snow and rainfall, therefore being perfectly potable. That, and the general properties of light refraction, plus differences in absorption of various light colors while shining through the water, makes the lake unbelievably deep blue. There's an unexplained feature of the lake: it keeps constant water level. Logic suggests that it should swell when the snow melts (it snows about 30 feet a year here!), and recede in the summer heat, but it does not happen to the expected extent. A theory says that there is some overflow in the lake, letting extra water out. Another mysterious property of the lake is its constant chemical balance -- a saltier or dirty water drops to the bottom, from where it probably leaves through many underground streams.

	Circling the lake on a boat takes at least two hours

	A sharp rocky island looks almost like a "phantom ship" from a distance

The lake was discovered comparatively late -- in the year 1853. Indian shamans knew about the lake, but regular natives were forbidden to look at the surface, so for whole fifty years, they did not consider it useful to mention it to the white settlers. White men eventually found their way there - and could not leave an "unused" reservoir alone. They put fish into the lake -- trout and salmon still live here, sometimes circling the lake in their fruitless instinctive search for an outlet. Park management encourages unlimited free fishing, with the condition that all caught fish must be killed and taken away (nothing may be thrown back into the lake), and no biological bait may be used (as to prevent introducing more filth). They hope to eliminate those fish that are not supposed to be there.

We drove around the whole lake, all the way to CLEETWOOD COVE. It's the only place where you can hike down to the surface. Park management built a small pier there and organizes sightseeing boat tours. We attempted to buy tickets at a parking lot register, but they were currently sold out. Just as we weighted our options, that is, to wait another hour, or buy tickets for the following day, a call from the port came in that five people gave up for the previous tour rammed their boat into the pier. I immediately rushed to get in their places. It was 2:15, the tour started at three, a sign said it takes 40 minutes down -- no time to hang around. Fortunately they exaggerate; it really took us only 20 minutes.

The trip lasts for about two hours, so I would not recommend it for people who don't understand English, and for small children -- it might get pretty boring to just ride all this time on the lake, if you're unable to follow the guide's lecture for some reason. Like a small girl who came aboard holding her trousers in her hand -- she either sat in water, or wet herself - at first, she dried them elegantly by waving them around, but eventually began putting them on her head (and driving her mother crazy). I think that after two hours of such spectacle, this mom wished to be far far away -- she presented us with a whole range of hissing, inconspicuous rib jabbing, as well as apologetic looks towards other passengers. The fact that the girl did not get slapped in the end, can be only attributed to an American trend to never, ever, discipline any children, not even your own.

	On the boat, listening to a heavily simplified geological lecture of a guide

During our tour, an ambitious guide in a pretty uniform toiled at a microphone, but I have to say that I enjoyed most our last few minutes, when the boat's captain spoke to us. He left out pseudo-scientific data and told us how he finds the lake beautiful and strange.

	Up close, the "phantom ship" becomes an ordinary volcanic rock.

Hiking up back to the parking lot was rather demanding, mostly because we still felt our ascent to Lassen Peak on the previous day.

Driving back to Fort Klamath, we took turns in a shower and went out in the town to look for a dinner. It was not so tough to find it, the whole Fort Klamath consists of two motels, one General Store, three ancient houses, and a dog kennel. What remains is Cattle Crossing Cafe, overflowing by all eight guests, Poor waitress, who could not possibly manage such heavy crowd, and eventually the cook himself lost his nerves and came to help us. He said he just finished cutting up meat for steaks, and if we would not mind that he made them small - only 10 oz. He said if we were hungry, he would put two on one order. We thanked him and ordered one -- for both of us together.

Thus refueled, we attended the next and last local attraction, the General Store. I think you can buy just about anything there, from ice cream through beef jerky to saddles and ammunition. A local guy got interested in our (Czech) language, he tried to guess, and guessed right, eventually. This attracted the attention of a dude at a register (perhaps the owner), who started to chat with us. First, he advised Sid that it is best to treat women like cattle, one needs spurs and ropes, I got congratulated to having decided about living in America. Then he tried to talk both of us out of the intent of living in California, that state being a nest of socialism, recommending to move to some more decent state - like Oregon..

	A volcano in a volcano, a crater in a crater: The Wizard Island

We returned to the decent General Store in a decent state of Oregon for breakfast. Coffee bubbled on a cooker and a lady stood behind a counter, perhaps a wife of the talkative dude from yesterday. A massive teenager rumbled throughout the store, followed by tender looks of a relatively pretty young girl (a fiancee, perhaps? after all, a potential heir of a store in the middle of nowhere...). The lady made Sid a sandwich, I ordered a muffin and coffee - in a while, we went back to attending to Crater Lake.

Driving around it from the other side, we left towards northern end of the park, headed for Bend, Oregon. A sign LAVA BEDS made us stop and venture underground into a large tunnel that a hot lava river left behind, now a welcome tourist attraction and relief from summer heat.