Lassen National Park

Located in northeastern California, the full name of Lassen National Park is a bit of a mouthful. Most folks just call it "Lassen Park" or "Mount Lassen," Lassen Peak being the namesake and most visible feature of this park. Lassen is at the southernmost end of the Cascade Mountain Range, and prior to the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens, was the most recently active volcano in this mountain range.

The area, as its name implies, is an active hydrothermal area. Lassen peak itself is still considered an active volcano, although it has been dormant since about 1915 when B.F. Loomis photographed the eruptions of 1814-1815. The museum within the park offers his historic photos for public view.

Elevations within the park range from about 5,000 feet at the lower campgrounds near Manzanita Lake, to about 8,000 feet at the summit of the park road, to 10,457 feet at the summit of Lassen Peak itself.

Interestingly, the park began as two separate National Monuments dedicated by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1907.

We first visited and camped at Mount Lassen when I was a child of about 10. In those days, the stay limit at national park campgrounds was 2 weeks. We would stay the full time, and use our campsite as a base of operations for explorations of all the various features the park had to offer.

The park rangers loved us, for we would go in to the ranger's office, inquire about hikes and sights to see, then plot the day's or following days' activities. Upon our return, we would head back to the ranger station, talk to the rangers about how much we had enjoyed that particular hike, and ask for more. This is the way the national parks were intended to be used.

My father never understood (nor do I) people who would go to the trouble of traveling to one of these scenic wonders, only to sit around camp listening to ball games on portable radios and playing cards. You can do those things at home--might as well stay there if that's all you want to do. No, we were campers out to see the sights and wonders of nature. We were out for a vacation and change of scene from all the 'normal everyday' stuff we did at home.

We traveled to many of the national parks on the western side of the USA during my growing up years, but Mount Lassen came to be our favorite--we visited several times. It became our 'home away from home' campground.

My father was a great photographer, and also got into home movies. I have so many, many more photos I'd love to share, but the are unavailable to me now. I have them in my head, of course, but when we went camping, Dad would shoot a lot of movie film.

He then edited the film together into stories of the vacation. The single 50-foot reels became 300-foot reels showing all the things we did that trip. Looking back, I have to admire my father's stamina. We would go on long hikes, and all the way, he would be toting his gadget bag with his still camera equipment hanging from one shoulder, and his movie camera from the other.

These were not the lightweight electronics of today: they were mechanical with many moving parts, and were heavy. Each camera bag probably weighed in excess of 10 pounds! Gamely, he strode along the trail. If he was tired, he never complained. You need to understand that my father was a good deal older than my mother--he was retired by the time I was in junior high school, so this is a senior citizen we are talking about, here.

Sadly, they were shot on old 8mm movie film. In the 1960's, videotape had not yet been invented--or if it had, it was not available at the consumer level. So, while I still have all the movies, I have no means of sharing any of those wonderful pictures.

It is very expensive to have 8mm movies converted to digital format such as DVD's. I do hope you all enjoy Dad's black and white photos, however.

I became fascinated with the local Indian lore of the park. Back then, there was the last remaining member of the Atsugewi (Atsugé)Tribe of local Indians, living as a permanent summer resident at the park. Mrs. Salina Lamar. Twice a day, she would sit in the shade of the trees in front of the museum, and give talks about their way of life.

The Atsugewi were basket-makers, and she would demonstrate this skill as she spoke. I was enthralled. I remember how she would shock the crowd by mentioning cooking baskets. Cooking in a basket? But how? Surely it would catch fire! She would laugh, and explain that no, you did not put the basket on the fire, but you put a hot rock from the fire into the basket, and stir it around to keep it moving so there would be no 'hot spots' to burn the basket. When it cooled, you'd add a fresh hot rock, until the food was cooked.

She had a wonderful sense of humor and would spice her talks with tales of her own childhood, and how she sometimes got into trouble with her parents. No different than kids of today!

Descendants of the Atsugewi Tribe do still exist in Northern California today. Further information can be found here.

Probably the most interestisngly-named feature of the park is Bumpass Hell. It contains a large number of very active hydro-thermal features including boiling mud, boiling water "lakes," fumaroles (hot sulphurous steam vents) and assorted rough landscapes tinted with other-worldly hues from mineral deposits of one sort or another.

The name originates from an explorer in the area back in 1864, by the name of Kendall Bumpass. His encounter with the area included falling into one of the boiling pools, which resulted in the loss of a leg. He concluded that he'd arrived in Hell, and so his name was given to the area.

I've included links to a couple of You Tube videos of the area. It is nothing short of amazing. In addition to the alien-looking terrain, there is a notorious stench of sulphur in the air. It is not suffocating or choking, to be sure, but neither can it be easily ignored. You'll be in there for some time before your sense of smell learns to ignore it.

One of the features of the park includes the Subway Caves lava tubes. Lava tubes, unlike limestone caves and caverns found in other areas, tend to occur where streams or rivers ran at one time. The flowing lava from the volcanic eruptions flows down the stream, much like the water itself, following the path of least resistance.

As the outer crust hardens, subsequent flows may occur over the top, thickening the crust, and forming the eventual cave. What is especially unique about lava tubes is this: given that they follow streambeds, there are usually not too many branches or side-rooms, and it is nearly impossible to get lost within.

Limestone caverns, by contrast, are formed by erosion from surface water, can cover many, many square miles, and have so many chambers and branches that getting lost inside is very easy.

I recall a camping trip to Mount Lassen when I was about 9 years old. We took a ranger-guided tour of the Subway Caves. I imagine there were perhaps 30 people in the group. Everyone was talking, the ranger was explaining features, and I inadvertently played the comic by virtue of a mistaken word. Having recently read in school about the danger posed by avalanches, yet not fully understanding their nature, or probable locations, I whispered to my mother, "Everyone should be quiet and stop talking so they don't cause an anchovie!"

One unique feature of these caves is a phenomenal ability to transmit sounds. My whisper to my mother was plainly heard by the entire group. Everyone laughed, including the ranger. I did not understand why. Being very shy in those days, I was also very embarrassed at having unwittingly become the center of attention.

Once the group was well inside the cave, the ranger extinguished his flashlight, and asked everyone else to do the same. There are not words to describe that level of absolute darkness. There is no 'waiting for your eyes to adjust.' They do not. When your eyes 'adjust' to darkness, they are adjusting to a very diminished level of light, be it the moon and stars, or a dim flashlight.

Inside a cave, there is no extraneous light source, however faint. It is absolutely pitch black, and you simply cannot see. Even a cat would be unable to see that far inside a cave. Only a bat, navigating as it does by echolocation, can navigate safely.

After  several seconds, the ranger then lit a single match--just an ordinary kitchen match. It was almost as if a floodlight had been turned on. The initial flare of the match was almost painfully bright.  The walls and ceiling could be plainly seen, as could the faces and features of the entire group. 

On subsequent travels to various parks and caves of different types, I've learned this is a fairly 'standard' device employed by the tour leaders.  But the first time it is experienced is truly flabbergasting.

I've also visited many other National Parks, including Sequoia, King's Canyon,  Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Zion Canyon, Mesa Verde, and many state parks as well.  I intend to write hubs about most of them, but for now, this one, and my hub about Mesa Verde are the only ones.