In the 1990s, my oldest
grandson, Johnny, and I visited Lassen
Volcanic National Park and nearby
areas twice. I have always wanted to return, and also to share
the experience with the rest of my family.
We stayed both times at
Childs Meadow Resort, an RV park with cabins and a motel, and my
hope was to rent a cabin to supplement the sleeping space in my
motor home. We managed to find a date that would work for my older
daughter's family, but no one else could make it. Between her pickup
camper and my motor home, we had sleeping space for everyone, so we
didn't need a cabin. At the last
minute, Teri had to cancel due to other obligations, but my
grandson, Mikie, his father, Tim, and I headed out early on the
morning of July 12, 2010, for a trip that would include fishing, sight
seeing, and extensive loafing.
I wanted to repeat part
of the route Johnny and I took on our first trip, so we traveled up
state highway 99 through Sacramento, then on state 70 through
Marysville and Oroville and northeast into the Feather River
Canyon.
They say that getting
there is half the fun, and if not always fun, it can at least be
counted on to provide some surprises and challenges. State 99 used
to be US 99 and was the main inland north-south route from Mexico to
Canada. North of the state capitol it goes up the east side of the
valley, but with the development of the Interstate Highway System,
I-5, a
new route farther west, became the main artery. North of Sacramento
State 99 goes through many small towns without benefit of freeway
bypasses, but it's still a heavily used and important route for the
east side of the Sacramento Valley.
At a place where several
highways meet, 99 turns west for a few miles before heading north
out of Sacramento, but the signs are not clear, and after a few
miles I realized I was heading northeast on I-80, approaching the
suburb of Roseville. I was familiar with this area, and figured
there was a highway heading north from that area. Serving as
navigator, Tim directed me to take State 65 northwest just past
Roseville, since it ran directly into 70 after a few miles. This
proved to be a less congested route than the one we "should
have" followed, and soon we were on state 70, heading for
Oroville. Just past this city, 70 turns to the northeast and follows
the Feather River deep into the Sierra.
In 1993 Johnny and I had
stopped for the night at a flat spot along the highway, but I knew
finding it again would be a challenge - time and development could
have eliminated it or turned it into a lemonade stand. When we saw a
small RV park called Caribou Crossroads where two branches of the
river meet, we decided this was the right place for our first night,
and were soon parked in a shady spot just a short walk from the
water.
When traveling, Mikie's
sole purpose in life now is fishing, so following the suggestion of
the clerk in the office, he and Tim headed down to the point where
the two streams flow together. On his first cast, Mikie caught a
12-inch smallmouth bass. I was just getting ready to join them
(without fishing of course), when Mikie came running up.
"Grandpa! Bring your camera!" I followed him back down the
path under the highway and through the willows, and snapped some
pictures of his first catch. He threw out his line and immediately
caught another one, following this with a total of three fish on
four casts.
Tim soon had one, and
they caught a total of ten, five each. Tim caught the biggest, but
it was a "trash" fish, not good to eat. He also caught the
smallest.
The next day we continued
on our journey to Lake Almanor, a huge lake in Plumas County where
we had reservations at Big
Cove Resort, on the peninsula
that juts into the lake from the northeast. Tim had already done
some research on the fishing conditions there, and knew that the
best catches were being made while trolling. When we checked in,
there was a young man working on a web site, who proved to be a
valuable source of information. The son of the resort's owner, he
had been fishing the lake since he was a child, and suggested a
guide who was reliable and knowledgeable. He also said that he could
take Tim and Mikie out on his boat, but could not officially charge
a fee since he was not a licensed guide.
Tim called the guide, Duncan McIntyre,
and
set up a fishing expedition for the next day, starting at 5:30 a.m.
Of course, my plan was to get up about two hours later than that and
just take it easy.
Early the next morning
Tim and Mikie set out, and I got up about 7:30, did my morning walk,
and continued my somewhat regular camping routine of having a bloody
Mary, reading a book, and fixing breakfast.
Since Tim is an excellent
chef, both at the stove and at the barbecue, we expected and got
some better meals than I usually fix for myself. I don't recall what
we ate when, but I know that the menu included hamburgers and pork
chops, both fixed on the grill. I had brought some homemade
spaghetti sauce which we fixed one night, and during my morning walk
on Wednesday I checked out a small restaurant across the road from
the resort. The menu looked promising, so I suggested that as a
place for dinner that evening.
The fishermen returned
before 1 p.m., reporting good success. They caught a combination of
rainbow and brown trout, with Mikie claiming the biggest numbers
(5-2), and Tim the biggest fish, but only by a fin. Most of the fish
weighed in around three pounds, and the guide service included filleting
them, so we soon had two plastic bags of ready to cook trout in my
freezer.
For the remainder of the
day we just took it easy, wandering around the lakeside, reading,
goofing off, etc. Mikie did a little fishing from the shore, with no
success.
That night we made the
short walk out to the main road and about 100 yards up to the
restaurant. Tim and I both had fried chicken, and were surprised to
find that it included a half chicken, plus a large serving of
vegetables and steak fries, preceded by a salad that was well above
the typical pile of lettuce you get in some places. We were well
satisfied with both food and service.
That evening, as always,
when it got dark we fired up the TV and DVD player and watched some
shows. I had tried to get the satellite going so we could watch
baseball, but our location was apparently blocked by trees, and
there was no signal. Most of the time we watched episodes of The
Big Bang Theory that I had recorded from TV. I had shown a
couple to Mikie at my house, but it was Tim's first look at the
show, and they both became instant and enthusiastic fans. I highly
recommend this show, which returns in September on CBS. (2020
Update: It ended in May 2019 but is available on
DVD and various streaming sources, and worth re-watching.)
Tim and Mikie had a
discussion about whether to go out on the lake the next day, with
the answer changing back and forth, but the final decision was to go
out with the young man who greeted us the first day. This trip, also
starting at 5:30, yielded three good-size trout, with Mikie again
taking the lead 2-1. Tim claims another fish that got away only
because of a technical problem with netting it at the last minute,
so it will go into the record books with an asterisk. Their travels
on the lake also yielded dramatic
views of Lassen Peak.
Since we had to check out
by noon, they returned around 11 a.m., and we got everything loaded for
the trip to Child's
Meadow Resort near Lassen
Volcanic National Park. On the way we stopped at the town of
Chester on Highway 36 to get a few groceries, and arrived at our
destination around 3 p.m. The current owners took over about the
time I was there 15 years ago, so I expected some extensive changes,
but it is pretty much the same. It has a motel, some rustic cabins,
tent camping sites, and RV sites. They have upgraded the electrical
and water hook-ups, and added a few small mobile homes with wood
siding. As with the older cabins, these can be rented by the day,
week, or month.
Besides the usual setup
chores, I did some exploring on my bike, going down dirt roads that
lead in both directions from the highway. The one that leads to the
west proved to be the more interesting, going into the woods just
below and then behind the huge meadow that lies opposite the
resort. Tim and Mikie discovered a horseshoe pit, and Mikie had his
first experience with that game, losing but wearing his dad out in
the process.
There are a couple of
roads that go into the Lassen Park and end at trail heads. Highway 36 runs
by the resort, east to Susanville and west to Red Bluff and beyond.
About 10 miles from Child's Meadow, Highway 89 goes north through
the park, the only road that goes all the way through. I had planned
to make this trip with my daughter's pickup, but we had no choice
but to take the motor home, so we unplugged, got the rig ready to
travel, and set out the next morning. It proved to be a better
choice, since someone would have had to ride in the back of the
truck and would miss most of the scenic view. However, we were sorry
that Teri could not be with us.
Lassen
Volcanic National Park ranges from
5,800 feet to over 10,000 at the top of Lassen Peak. The road
through the park rises to over 8,500 feet, and the combination of
elevation and northern latitude means summer visitors will almost
always see some snow. This year there was much more snow remaining
than I had seen on my two previous trips - areas that were still
covered in several feet, as well as two lakes that were still
partially frozen and had snow on the ice over much of the surface.
Snow does not mean cold.
With the clean air of the mountains, the sun was reflecting heat off
the snow, and we were comfortable in shorts and T-shirts even in the
snowiest areas.
Our first stop was the
visitor center, followed by the Sulfur Works. This area has a few
steam vents, and a vigorously boiling mud
pot. More dramatic thermal
activity can be seen at Bumpass Hell, but this requires a hike of
several miles across a mostly snow-covered trail. We also skipped
the more challenging five mile round trip trail to the top of Mt.
Lassen. It also had significant snow, and we later learned it was
closed that week for maintenance. In our visits last century, Johnny
and I did both of those hikes.
After passing the smaller
of two icy lakes, we stopped at Lake Helen to get a good look at the
sight of ice and snow on its surface in July, plus a little snowball
tossing.
Our last stop was the
Devastated Area, where a short trail with explanatory signs goes
through a section that was swept bare when the volcano last erupted
in 1915. Hot magma and ash flowing out melted the snow and
created an avalanche which carried car-size boulders several miles,
and swept down the mountain and over a low ridge. The area has
recovered significantly, with small trees creating a new forest, but
evidence of the event is obvious, especially with guidance from the
interpretive signs. Since this event was so recent, a number of good photos are
available of the mountain with a huge plume of smoke rising from the
top.
A little beyond this area
we encountered nine miles of construction, with pilot cars guiding
vehicles through. Tim and Mikie hoped to do some fishing at
Manzanita Lake on the park's northern border, but this area proved
to be crowded, with no good place to fish from the banks, and we
realized we should have turned back after our last stop. We repeated
the nine miles of smooth but alternately dusty and muddy
construction road, and made our way back over the pass and out of
the park.
We did stop for lunch and
fishing at Summit Lake just north of the pass, but mosquitoes drove
the would-be fishermen back to the motor home.
We had already learned at
the visitor center that the best fishing outside the park was in
Battle Creek, so at the junction of Highways 89 and 36 we turned
west, stopping at the tiny town of Mineral for a few groceries and
information. Another two miles took us to a forest service
campground on the creek, and Tim and Mikie headed through the
willows to the water, while I set up my chair and relaxed in the
shade. For the first time, Tim won the "fishing derby,"
catching three rainbows to Mikie's one. These fish all were returned
to their homes, and we headed back to camp.
Saturday, July 17 was our
final day, and we just stayed around camp. Tim and Mikie enjoyed
several spirited games of ping pong, and we did some hiking around the
area. Mikie also rode the bike down the dirt road on the opposite
side of the meadow, to where there is a gate across the road, at
least a mile or more each way. We got some packing up done, I did a
bunch more reading, and of course, we had our evening TV watching.
In the morning we had a
light breakfast, finished getting ready to roll, and headed west on
Highway 36. This drops down from the 5,000 foot level through the
foothills towards Red Bluff, below 1,000 feet. Along the way, we had
a good but distant view of Mt. Shasta. At Red Bluff we turned south
on I-5, and started planning an early lunch stop, due to the limited
size of our breakfast. We had all enjoyed eating at the Black
Bear Diner chain, but not together, so we punched that into my
GPS and found one about 30 miles down the road at Willows. Although
we arrived at 11 a.m., the place was busy, but the service was good
and the food was excellent, as we have found at other locations.
We continued south to
Stockton, where a short jog east on State Highway 4 gets you over to
California 99, and started the final leg of our journey, arriving in
Fresno about 4:30. As we expected, the temperature was near 100, and
we could not help thinking longingly of the snows of
Lassen.
--Dick Estel, August
2010
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