Caves & Craters Part II

We began the next day with a stop at Tule Lake National Monument. Tule Lake Relocation Center had the highest peak population of the 10 centers run by the War Relocation Authority (WRA) to incarcerate Japanese Americans during World War II. Although Minidoka National Historic Site in Idaho is much more extensive in both the information it provides and the remaining buildings you can visit, we still enjoyed the exhibits at Tule Lake and spent over an hour there. Sadly, we missed the days’ sole ranger-led jailhouse tour, currently the only way to see the center’s jailhouse, one of its few WRA buildings still standing.

Tule Lake National Monument
The jailhouse at Tule Lake National Monument can be toured with a ranger.

Following our visit to Tule Lake National Monument, we headed to the Tule Lake portion of the Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuges. There, we hiked a half-mile round-trip up the Sheepy Ridge Trail to a lookout built by the CCC. From that 170-foot vantage point, we could fully appreciate the expanse that was once Tule Lake. It is only 25% of its original size today. What happened to the lake? It fell victim to rash ideas that seemed prudent. In 1905, the lake’s extensive wetlands, which once attracted six million waterfowl each fall, were drained in order to be converted to fertile farmland. The Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuges were established in 1928 in an “oops” moment when the detrimental impact of that previous decision began to be realized.

After Sheepy Ridge, we wandered down the one-mile Discovery Marsh Trail, which winds through an experiment to reclaim reclaimed farmland for the birds. It was peaceful, except for all those dang birds. (LOL!)

Sheepy Ridge
Sheepy Ridge is the barrier that separates Lower Klamath Refuge from Tule Lake Refuge.

Following our second walk, we downloaded the refuge’s free auto tour guide and went on a drive. During this journey, we saw a golden eagle, prairie falcons, white pelicans, western grebes, cliff swallows, and a whole slew of ducks and other shorebirds. The auto tour was great except it didn’t seem to have been updated since 2009, so some of the info was obsolete. Also, it suggested trails in route that had not been maintained in a while. For instance, one such path was supposed to cross over a wetland area on a bridge yet all that remained of that bridge was a couple burnt boards as it had been engulfed in a fire back in 2020.

white pelicans
About 350 species of birds can be found in the Klamath Basin Refuges including the white pelican.

The auto tour ended at Petroglyph Point where we walked 0.8 miles appreciating its chirpy and artsy ambiance. There, on what had once been an island surrounded by Tule Lake, indigenous people carved over 5,000 symbols into soft volcanic rock between 2,500 and 4,500 years ago. (Exact dates are not known.) Petroglyph Point is now home to an enormous number of birds ranging from owls and falcons to swallows. For the winged, it is a happening place!

Petroglyph Point
The petroglyphs at Petroglyph Point have been eroding at an accelerated rate since the draining of the lake in 1905.

Our last day in Oregon, we finally made it to our primary destination, Crater Lake National Park. Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the United States and the ninth deepest lake in the world at 1,943 feet, and it holds the world record for water clarity down to 143 feet. It owes its exceptional transparency and hue to its depth and to the fact that it does not have any streams that flow into it. All of its five trillion gallons of water have accumulated slowly from rain and snowmelt. While I understood that Crater Lake is an unusual azure color, looking at it for the first time, I still had a wow moment. Wow is it blue!

How did it form in the first place? The short of it is that a volcano (Mt. Mazama) had a cataclysmic eruption 7,7000 years ago and emptied so much magma from beneath its surface that its hollowed magma chamber collapsed leaving behind a massive crater with no outlet that gradually filled with water.

Crater Lake
Crater Lake really is that blue.

This unspoiled lake typically receives between 500,000 and 700,000 tourists every year, which kind of spoils it. Apparently, it’s had lower than average visitors the last few years; it didn’t feel like that. We had to wait half an hour to get through the entrance booth, and it was a Monday. There were also quite a few people at the Rim Village when we first arrived, but they thinned out over the next hour or two. I guess everyone got their Instagram photo and moved on.

craft swap
We happened to be at Crater Lake on the day specialized helicopters were replacing the tour boats for Wizard Island.

Much of the park was not open yet due to lingering snow. Visitors were only allowed at the Rim Village and a mile down the road to Discovery Point. Since only a couple trails were even options, it wasn’t hard to pick the Discovery Point Trail (2.1 miles) for a hike. This path goes along the rim of the lake with thrilling scenery that changes around every corner and continually challenges any height misgivings. That brings me to this note: Crater Lake is circled by cliffs nearly 2,000 feet high. Exposure to them is unavoidable, so it may not be the best choice of parks for those with height aversions.

While the chance of rain that day was just 16%, and there had barely been a puff in the sky, just as we were reaching Discovery Point, we noticed some questionable clouds overhead. We miraculously got enough cell service to check the weather again and found the risk of rain had gone up to 47%. We decided we’d better hurry back as we were not in a great place to avoid lightning. As we were returning along the rim, we noticed a wall of precipitation charging across the lake toward us, and it didn’t look benevolent. Jason and I can move fast when prompted and that definitely prompted us. We made it back to our car just minutes before it started hailing, lightning, and a severe weather warning was issued. Thus ended our brief excursions at Crater Lake. The hail, rain, and sleet did not end though; we traveled through it for a large share of our return drive. Surprisingly, it was sunny back at Klamath Falls, and we got in a pleasant 4-mile run at our resort that evening.

a dulling downpour
Within minutes, all of Crater Lake’s vibrant color faded away to the dark gray of an intense storm.

Crater Lake is a reflective expanse of striking cobalt that will make you feel like you’ve stepped into a Photoshopped image, but the thrill of adventuring in Lava Beds combined with its lack of visitors kept it on the top of our favorites list. Sometimes obscurity generates more contentment than a pleasing scene.

One final note on wetness and awayness. Between CO, CA, OR, and UT, by the end of our Oregon outing, Jason and I had been gone 14 of the last 20 days. (And Jason had to go on an additional work trip to CA while we were “home.”) Out of those 14 traveling days, it had rained on us 11, and all but one of the sparse dry spells fell on days we were driving or flying home. We trekked in many downpours and got hailed on repeatedly. It was a strange season of sogginess, splendor, death, and discovery, a true ode to this beautiful, messy, incredible, hectic, heartbreaking, wondrous, complicated life.

Caves & Craters Part I

Death doesn’t heed timelines or care about your plans. For the second time in about half a decade, we had a nonrefundable vacation uprooted by a close family death in June of 2023. While a trip is inconsequential compared to a loss, the odds of this happening twice are baffling. After a tiring day of funeral-related socializing and public speaking, neither of us had any desire to pack or travel to Oregon, but just a few hours after we arrived at our destination, a particularly exquisite sunset changed our attitudes. Here’s the details on that sunset and the captivating darkness that followed.

Crater Lake National Park, a destination we’d never been to, was the reason we planned this ill-timed outing. We used Klamath Falls, which is about 45 minutes from the park, as our base. Unexpectedly, some nearby “filler” attraction surpassed Crater Lake on our list of favorites. How can that be? Read on, and you shall see.

Lake of the Woods
Lake of the Woods is popular with recreationists, but we didn’t see many of them.

Sandwiched between dormant volcanoes and calderas in the crest of the Cascade Mountains sits the High Lakes, a series of scenic lagoons dotting swaths of charming forest. The first thing we did after arriving in Klamath Falls was hike five miles amongst those High Lakes. We skirted the shores of the Great Meadow, 500 acres that flood seasonally when Lake of the Woods overflows, to Lake of the Woods. Lake of the woods is a popular body of water for canoeing, fishing, and swimming. We saw evidence of its popularity as we passed campgrounds but little in way of people on the trail.

Mt. McLoughlin
A glorious sunset can change your outlook in a tangerine blaze.

Looming in the skyline during this hike was the symmetrical face of Mt. McLoughlin, a 9,495-foot stratovolcano. Mt. McLoughlin began erupting 200,000 years ago. Nearby sits its much younger volcano brother, Brown Mountain. These volcanoes, particularly Mt. McLoughlin, made the setting magical as the setting sun turned the Great Meadow into a fiery mirror. Somewhere in those moments, our outlook changed from emotional and physical exhaustion to wonder and curiosity. Nature will do that to you.

Schonchin Butte Lookout
Schonchin Butte Lookout was built by the CCC in 1940 for fire surveillance.

The next day, we crossed the California border to visit Lava Beds National Monument. Why Lava Beds? I read a bit in a book about Crater Lake to prepare for this trip, and it mentioned Lava Beds National Monument as another spot you could visit close by. Although we had no idea what Lava Beds consisted of, we were game for finding out. Lava Beds turned out to be an amazing place, far more interesting and adventurous than expected.

Mount Shasta
From the lookout on Schonchin Butte, several volcanoes are visible, including Mount Shasta.

Lava Beds contains the highest concentration of lava caves in the continental United States owing largely to its location on the Medicine Lake Volcano, a massive shield volcano. Over 400 caves have been named in the monument. Two hundred of these have been explored to some extent, and about 100 have been mapped out. Visitors are free to explore 21 of the mapped caverns. Although the number of caves in Lava Beds is impressive, the best thing about them is what’s underfoot.

Schonchin Butte
Schonchin Butte was formed 65,000 years ago during an eruption of scoria, glassy rock loaded with gas bubbles.

In the 1920s and 30s, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) made considerable improvements to a number of the caves in the monument. How does one improve a lava cave? If you’ve ever hiked through one before, you will no doubt recall it as a rough experience with a lot of painful boulder scrambling. They typically are littered with chunks of sharp volcanic rock that has fallen from their ceilings. At Lava Beds, thousands of tons of stone were removed from tunnels either by hand or block and tackle systems using the light of gasoline lanterns. Openings were also expanded in some cases to allow for easier access.

Mushpot Cave
Mushpot is heavily trafficked but does provide insights into features encountered in other caves.

What remains when rock debris is taken from a lava cave? It turns out, a whole heck of a lot. Stalactites, ribbed walls, benches, shelves, and flow lines all become visible. We also found shimmering veins of gold and silver created by colonies of actinomycete bacteria. So cool!

Before we proceeded down at Lava Beds, we went up. The Schonchin Butte Trail leads 0.7 miles up a 500-foot cinder cone to a lookout created by the CCC for fire surveillance. Although this hike is a steady climb and not particularly shaded, it isn’t too difficult. That day, the cone’s hillside was a contrasting canvas of lavender and canary-colored grasses and flowers.

exploring Sunshine
There is something intoxicating about exploring.

Our first cave at Lava Beds was Mushpot. Mushpot is 770 feet long but is easily accessed as it’s paved and lighted for its entire extent. Rangers recommend visiting this cave first as an intro to the system. It contains a fireplace once used by a bootlegger and the stony remnants of lava splatter but is otherwise fairly dull compared to other tubes. However, its many signs provide ample information on the monument’s caves that comes in handy as you continue to explore.

Sunshine Cave
Sunshine Cave is smaller than most of the others, but its lava features are distinctly intact.

Following Mushpot, we checked out Sunshine. Sunshine Cave includes a skylight, a residual opening to the surface that was there when lava was flowing in the tube. This skylight supplies illumination to sections of the cave, so some diehard cavers might complain about it making the cave less… well, dark. Yet, we found the opening fascinating and fun. This was our favorite cave of the day.

Sunshine’s skylight
Sunshine’s skylight isn’t a cave-in but an element that was present when the tube was still lava filled.

At 1,635 feet, Valentine was the longest cave we explored. Valentine felt much grander than Sunshine with large columns and expansive rooms. It also felt tiny in places, which is why I eventually decided to turn around not far from the end.

Valentine Cave
Valentine Cave was discovered on Valentine’s Day.

Skull Cave, the last cavern we entered, has a huge 60-foot opening coated with course chunks of stones. This massive entrance is just one of the cave’s three levels. Its bottom level contains the Ice Chamber, an extensive slab of perennial ice of unknown depth. This ice is what the bighorns, mountain goats, antelopes, and two humans, whose remains were found in the cave upon its discovery, were seeking when they perished. And yes, that is why it is named Skull Cave. The water in the lower levels of the cave is kept cool enough to remain frozen because cold air sinks and hot air rises. Meaning, the cold air in the lower sections is only warm enough to rise when temperatures outside are even colder. Hence, this is a chilly cave!

Skull Cave
Skull Cave, a multilevel cavity, has one of the largest entrances in the monument.

Lava Beds deserves to be more than just a resting stop on the route between Crater Lake and Lassen. It is unlike any other cave system we’ve been to with floors of petrified volcanic flow ranging from rigid cauliflower to ropey waves. It was the highlight of our vacation, particularly because it wasn’t crowded. For the inquisitive and adventurous, Lava Beds is an unbelievable place.

Sunshine’s bling
Colonies of bacteria called actinomycete combine mysteriously with water and light to create a sheen of metallic sparkle in sections of the caves.

Now that I have covered our surprise favorite, I will next turn my attention to the attraction that prompted us to Oregon in the first place, Crater Lake National Park.

Wet Capitol

Posts about deserts aren’t usually brimming with water, but this one is so soaked I had to look up synonyms for rain before writing it. Those substitutes include shower, torrent, flood, deluge, drizzle, downpour, stream, and barrage. Since the following paragraphs are flooded, I will try to use that overflow of synonyms as frequently as appropriate so you don’t have to read through rain in every other sentence. With that introduction, let the barrage commence.

Last June, we traveled to Capitol Reef National Park with Jason’s parents even though we’d visited the park just a month earlier. We left on this vacation thinking the weather would ruin our trip, frequent rain was forecasted. It did not impair experiences. Instead, it added a wet layer of wonder to our outing.

Sunset Point
Sunset Point overlooks Sulfur Creek, which feeds into the Fremont River near Sunset Point.

We made it to the park just in time to hike to Sunset Point (0.6 miles RT) and Panorama Point (0.1 miles RT- so barely getting out of the car) before dark. Clouds obscured the sun shortly after we arrived at Sunset Point, and the wind stayed busy. However, we’d been in a downpour our entire drive to Capitol Reef, so we were just happy that had halted. Don’t worry though, I promise this story won’t leave you high and dry.

a transitory spectacle
We encountered this transitory waterfall just beyond the path to Hickman Bridge.

A 70% chance of rain and temperatures reaching the mid-sixties were predicted for the following day. The highest probability of precipitation started at 10:00 AM and extended until about 6:00 in the evening- so basically all day. Thankfully, the forecast had shifted by the time we headed into the park for no showers to occur until 5:00 PM. The delay of the storm turned out to be more wish than reality; I can personally verify Capitol Reef got exceptionally damp about 2:30, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The skies were sunnier than expected as we ate delicious pies at the Gifford Homestead and took the boardwalk parallel to Highway 24 to see the Fremont Culture petroglyphs along the cliff wall. Afterward, we had plans to hike to Hickman Bridge (1.75 miles RT), one of the most popular destinations in Capitol Reef. The trek turned out to be anything but standard that afternoon.

weird water
We found water in weird places during our entire trek to Hickman Bridge.

Just as we were about to leave our vehicle and head onto the trail, it started pouring. Not a mid pour but a robust pour. So, we jumped back into the car and waited until it downgraded to just regular rain. After about 10 minutes, ponchos in place, we finally headed up. As we reached the first plateau topped by the path, we were surprised to hear what sounded like a waterfall. Jason and I had never noticed a waterfall on our previous treks to Hickman Bridge, so it was a bit disorienting to hear one close by. (How could we have missed a waterfall before?) It turned out that we had correctly identified the noise despite its strange placement. A normally dry wash was flowing with an abundant stream of water. Where it fell from a high spout, a waterfall about 20 feet tall had been created. It was the first of many unusual scenes we would witness that day.

Hickman Bridge
Hickman Bridge is similar in dimension to the bridges in Natural Bridges National Monument.

The weather gradually cleared, and by the time we got to Hickman Bridge, it was sunny enough for all jackets to be removed. However, as we started to descend, storm clouds rapidly encroached, and thunder began rumbling. Within a few minutes, we found ourselves again in the middle of a soaking. We watched a wash, which had completely dried from the previous outburst in the time it took for us to get to the bridge, begin to fill up once more. It never quite got to a flowing point, but water was flowing chaotically elsewhere around us. Most astonishingly, it started streaming down the towering cliffsides encircling us in gushing waterfalls, particularly Navajo Dome. It was magical! The weather wasn’t what we would have picked, but in some ways, it was even better. With our ponchos in place, we got to enjoy this spectacular show with minimum wetness. Other hikers we passed were not prepared and spent the deluge huddled under rocks.

sandstone spurts
Within minutes of shower commencement, the walls around us were flowing.

The next day, we decided to undertake the Chimney Rock Loop (3.6 miles RT). The high was 60 and the rain drizzly during this trek. Unlike the day before, the precipitation stayed with us for two hours instead of just downpouring and departing. We didn’t see any flash flooding and only saw other groups at the beginning of the hike.

the Waterpocket wonderland
Conservationists working toward getting Capitol Reef designated a national park initially wanted it to be called Wayne Wonderland.

On a dry interlude, when in Torrey, the closest town to Capitol Reef, certain food obligations must be met. One must eat at Capitol Burger, Hunt & Gather, and Hell’s Backbone Grill. We hit all three. Capitol Burger is an unassuming food truck with uncommonly good reviews and uncommonly good burgers. To reach Hell’s Backbone Grill, one must travel an hour up Boulder Mountain, a tricky road to navigate thanks to the grazing cattle and prolific deer. The Jenchiladas and desert-rubbed cauliflower are completely worth it! At Hunt & Gather, a newer place located where Café Diablo used to be, we sat out on a covered patio and experienced a sudden onslaught of rain just as the sun was setting. Rain clinking against a tin roof ain’t a bad accompaniment to cast iron asparagus and Marsala tenderloin.

poncho prepared
Being always prepared means packing more. It also means not getting soaked with every cloudburst.

The showers finally dissipated the following day, the first day we didn’t get rained on during this trip or our trip to Colorado the week before. Temperatures were perfect, in the low 70s, but it still felt a little too warm on occasion when heat was coming off sundrenched rocks. We hiked the Fremont River Trail, which starts out as a river meander then climbs steadily up the side of a plateau to two viewpoints. Some trail guides show the path ending at the first overlook. Don’t believe them. The second vantage point is the better of the two with fantastic prospects of Fruita and the sandstone domes above it. Most websites list this trail’s length at just two miles RT, but going to the second viewpoint will make the journey more like 2.6.

Fremont River Trail
From the end of the Fremont River Trail, Fruita and the irregular vaults of sandstone beyond it are on display.

After another Capitol Burger and the departure of Jason’s parents, Jason and I decided to hike through Capitol Gorge to The Tanks, which is a mile each way. Capitol Gorge is mostly just a mellow walk in a wide wash, but it does have a couple points of interest, namely a wall of petroglyphs (many of which have been damaged by nature or man) and the Pioneer Register. The Pioneer Register is a cliff that was used by explorers and settlers between 1871 and 1946 to inscribe names and dates as they passed by. This wall has been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1999. Like the petroglyphs, it too appeared to have been defaced by modern morons.

Pioneer Register
Starting in 1871, explorers, pioneers, herdsmen, prospectors, and surveyors scratched their names on this wall in Capitol Gorge while standing on the tops of their wagons.

The Tanks, a series of water collecting bowls and our destination in Capitol Gorge, felt underwhelming at first glance. The largest of the three was completely dry even with the recent rain. However, as we were heading back, we discovered a more interesting grouping of tanks and a natural bridge, which had once been the wall of a tank, hidden lower down the same gully as the obvious three.

The Tanks
The Tanks, a series of small water-collecting basins, were dry on our visit despite the recent rain, but we did find a more intriguing string of pots and bridges obscured in the gully below them.

By way of advice, the gnats in Capitol Gorge are bad! If we stopped to take a picture, they swarmed us. We both got quite a few bites. Were they only present because of the recent precipitation, or are they permanent residents of the gorge? (I don’t remember dealing with them last time we were in Capitol Gorge.) Maybe bringing a head net would be a good idea on this hike.

Since I’m already giving advice, I might as well give one more piece regarding pies. The Gifford Homestead, a historic building inside the park, contains a pie shop. It goes through 20-30 dozen (240-360) pies every day. The pies are usually sold out by about 2:00 in the afternoon. On Saturdays, they are often gone before then. I am a pie snob, and these pies are worth the bother. So, if you are a crust connoisseur like me, I’d recommend hitting the Gifford Homestead by early afternoon to guarantee a flaky selection.

Rain is often considered the enemy of outdoor activities. Storms dash plans under their prolific drips. However, experiencing Capitol Reef’s wet side, a rarity, was captivating and unforgettable. It was good down to the last drop!