Crater Lake

Crater Lake is a strange place. A mountain in a forest, a caldera in the mountain, a lake in the caldera, an island in the lake, a hill on the island, a crater inside that hill. Originally, a great volcano named Mt Mazama reached high, to about 12,000 feet elevation here. Klamath Indians describe what happened to the mountain 7,700 years ago:
"the spirit of the underworld, Llao, used to enter the world above through Mazama. Meanwhile, on a nearby Shasta mountain, lived the spirit of the upper world, Skell. Llao fell in love with a chief's daughter, who rejected him for he was ugly and lived underground. Llao took offence and swore a revenge for the whole tribe, which, however, was under Skell's protection. Both spirits started fighting, it was a terrible battle and the whole sky blackened with dust. Skell eventually drove Llao back into the underworld and collapsed the whole Mazama mountain on him, so that he would never escape again. Finally, he covered an ugly hole with a quiet beautiful water."

The rim of the caldera reaches 8,151 feet in its highest spot and annual snowfall amounts to about 40 feet. Precipitation is the only source of water in the lake and it took approximately 250 years to fill it up to current level. Since there is no river that would bring sediments into the lake, its water is very clear and potable. Clean water is best at absorbing long wavelengths of light - red. Next are yellow and green, blue comes last. A sufficiently deep column of water scatters blue and violet part of the light, reflecting part of it back up. According to a sophisticated measurements in summer 2000, Crater Lake is up to 1,949 feet deep. Unbelievable color of the lake thus has a very rational explanation, but when you stand on the rim, the view will still take your breath away. And to add to the superlatives -- Crater lake is the deepest lake in the U.S., and seventh deepest in the world.

Last year, during our two-day stay, we drove around in our wagon, savored many vistas and paid a boat ride along the rim. The lake is 6 miles across in its widest direction (east-west), and 4.5 miles north-south. It takes almost two hours to circle such giant. Still, I strongly recommend the boat ride; if you take one of the early morning boats, you may ask to be let out on the Wizard Island and hike a cindercone to a crater (780 feet above the surface). I discourage people who don't understand English (I confess that listening to geological details for two hours was too much even for me), and advise against taking small children. A little girl, who was trapped with us on the boat, got on board holding her wet shorts in her hand (we did not learn if she got them wet herself of by sitting into water). She was awfully bored - until she found out that she could attract other people's attention by putting the shorts on her head, which made her mother hiss hysterically.

This year, we wanted to repeat our visit, skipping our descent to the surface (it is possible only in one spot and though a well maintained trail leads there, hiking up 700 feet is quite an exercise). Instead, we wanted to hike up Mt Scott, and enjoyed a view from the top.

Having departed on Friday at nine in the evening, we strove to get as far as possible, hoping to finish the distance in the morning. My mind was fixated on the idea that traveling just a little bit outside California, to Oregon, would take some four or five hours. A while past midnight, we were looking for accommodation at an indifferent motel, in approximately one third of the way there -- well, we women are said to have a bad sense of guessing distances :-)

Unfortunately (or not?), motel guests are early birds -- cars were being started since six a.m., children were making a racket, water wheezed through the pipeline system, and there was no way we could have slept. At seven thirty, even we were leaving. Four hours later, we stopped for a lunch at our favorite joint in Klamath Falls - only sixty miles south of Crater lake. Waldo's is a pub where smoking is permitted (because already in Oregon). They also don't try to disguise its primary function -- serving beer. Secondary attractions seem to be a billiard room, a dancing room, and Mongolian buffet. We only wanted to eat -- a waitress gives you a bowl, which you fill at a buffet with raw meat (chicken, port, beef, shrimp), pour some of sixteen various sauces (soy, sesame oil, garlic, oyster...) and pile up with fruit, vegetables and noodles. You hand it all to a chap who empties your bowl onto a large hot plate stove and fries it there. The waitress then brings your creation back when done on a plate, plus a small bowl of white rice. If you wish, they'll bring you chopsticks as well. By the way, the smallest bowl costs $5 and is just about enough for a Hippo..

Having had our lunch, we rolled out all the way to the northern end of the National Park (which is almost a hundred years old, founded on May 22, 1902). You can overnight there at a Lodge for approximately $150 per person per night, or at a campground for $15.50 (guided campfire program included! Whoooa!). No one would ask your money for camping in a National Forest, nor will you be subject to organized, hysterical fun, you're only required to maintain elementary camping decency. We sought out a inconspicuous forest road and found a flat, clearer spot there for our tent. It was so quiet and pleasant in the midst of the woods, so we pulled out our mats and took a nap before our ascent to the paramount.

A tourist trail to Mt Scott leads up 1,400 feet and according to a guide, a round trip takes three hours. If you're such "hikers" like we are, and stop every other moment to take pictures, eat a snack, remove or pull on a jacket, hydrate, or just plainly stop and talk, plus you'd also like to hang out on the top a little while, then it will take you all the three hours. There are two highest spots there, and Hippo would not have it any other way and we had to also climb on the lower one, which is less frequently visited -- besides, our GPS said it was exactly 8,888 feet. There a former fire watch lookout on the higher top, today more a ruin of one, but at least it can be used as a shelter from a strong wind. The top of Mt Scott (2,721 meters = 8,929 ft) is at approximately same elevation like a cabin under the top of Dachstein, Austria, but this time we did not encounter kidney seizures. No glacier, either - it's quite a different climatic range here.

Last hundred feet of our way down were very quick -- sunset was imminent and we wanted to catch it at Cloudcap, on the Crater Lake rim. We made it in time and Sid spent following fifteen minutes jumping around his tripod, juggling with heavy camera lenses. I sat on a folded blanket and enjoyed the scenery. My fault; if I jumped as well, I would not have gotten so cold.

It was time to round up something for dinner. There was no way we could have cooked anything ourselves. We had no food with us (duh), and the forests were so dry after months of no rain, it was strictly forbidden to make fires -- even in a camping stove. Sid suggested a meal at the Lodge -- on the other side of the Lake. Our remaining option would be driving down to Forth Klamath, (farther on about 20 miles past the lodge), but since that town consists of two motels, one General Store, one Cafe and three mobile homes, we did not consider it a promising site of late food service. I had one concern about the lodge -- our guide said that they had a "formal dining room". Sid assured me that the word "formal" meant waiters would be dressed in tuxedos and we'd be expected to show up more or less dressed.

I reviewed my worn out, felt-like, spotty sweatshirt, dusty pants, my feet in dirty socks and elderly sandals (I changed from hiking boots earlier, as I don't like to drive in them, but that certainly did not improve my looks or my smell). I have to admit that I was not sure to qualify for any company, much less for upscale dining establishment. But Sid was already reserving a table. Closer scrutiny of people gathered in the lodge hall revealed that although it may be necessary to order a room at the Lodge several months (perhaps even years) ahead of time, and be prepared to produce a sizable amount of money, it is quite fashionable to wear "athletic" clothes. True, nobody was as dirty as we were, but a romantic illumination arrangement helped to cloak such detail.

Through some miracle, two seats near a fireplace became available during our waiting, I clearly won a race across half of the hall over several mummified retirees wielding crutches, and in no time I was purring with delight in front of a fire, with large flames licking a pile of huge logs. An attentive waiter brought me tea and I finally ceased to shake to the extent that I was able to turn my attention towards interior decoration of this architectural marvel from 1915. And what did I see? A nest of gas pipes led to this large fireplace. Wood paneled walls were actually made of particle boards finished with laminated wallpaper; windows were lined with "natural" pine log mouldings (bark included). A facade wall was dominated by a giant, uber-realistic painting of Crater Lake, with the lodge building rendered in a completely wrong spot. The real lake with its deep blue water is extreme enough as it is; but this "art" topped the bill.

I leaned towards an opinion that the hotel's management preserved this tasteless decoration from 1915 as a historical reminder of the face of the Wild West of that time, but Sid claimed that there was nothing historical about this paneling, and it was meant to be an upscale, serious arrangement. Well, I don't know, but I had to suppress an urge to burst into laughter throughout our dinner, and I have no idea how I managed to stuff myself so much with scallops and cheese under these circumstances.

Warmed up and well fed, snubbing the $150+ accommodation, we turned towards our tent. Taking a right turn from the first stretch of a forest road -- oops! A pickup truck parked in the middle of a public road, surrounded by a barrage of cooling boxes, fishing poles (those fishermen seem to follow us everywhere) and collapsible seats. After a while, the owner pushed his head, covered by a baseball cap, through the window, still wrapped in his sleeping bag, wearing a spaced-out expression. We concluded that an argument would take long and bring no guarantee of results. Sid rather zigzagged among trees, between small trunks and stumps, fortunately our Wagon has a four wheel drive.

We woke up in the morning quite spontaneously this time, about nine thirty, what a joy after all that commotion at a motel. We packed and half-circled the mysterious Lake again -- only a half because we needed to get out of the National Park on the other side. A whole circle road is 33 miles, and is subject to closure when snowed in (in the case of Crater Lake, that may be from October to June). You can cross-country ski on it then. The lake itself contains such a vast mass of water that it keeps a constant temperature (at 260 feet depth it maintains 37°F) and almost never freezes (last time in year 1949).

We chose a detour as our way home -- first to the west, until we reached the ocean coast, and then along the shore southwards. We could not avoid a walk on a beach, still planning a visit to one of the redwood forests, but our calculations were flawed -- evening descended upon us and darkness with it. Reaching Palo Alto at 1:30 a.m., our odometer showing 1,100 miles. A great weekend.

And here's another quiz with a prize. All your internet surfers, mathematicians and psychics are challenged to find, calculate, or guess the surface area of Crater Lake, and send it in. Our usual reward - beautiful postcards - are ready.



	Crater Lake won't fit event into a wide lens, so our panoramic view is composed of two snapshots. Mt Scott is in the left background, in the front you can see Wizard Islands.



	This computer-generated picture is based on latest depth measurements. Many more interesting information is available on USGS pages.



	A short distance from the top of Mt. Scott, on can well see a former fire watch lookout, and Mt. Thielsen in the background. Our tent is pitched somewhere in the forests below.



	Mt. Thielsen at night, and in daytime (as seen from Crater Lake)



	An excited jaybird clearly shouted: "get the hell outta here!"



	Mt. Shasta 14,162 ft



	We managed to capture a sunset from Cloudcap hill



	Humboldt Coast - Northern California