Closing the First Half at Mount Shasta and Crater Lake

July 8th to 14th, 2021

Our route up to Shasta would take us up and over the Sierra Nevadas, through Tahoe, and down to Sacramento along CA Route 50. Josh would be waiting for us at arrivals in Sacramento, after all. This would be our final crossing of the Sierra Nevadas, and a goodbye, for now, to curvy, steep grade, mountain roads. We’ve learned that one cannot simply type their destination into Google Maps, and then expect to easily drag a 24’ trailer on the suggested route. Rather, we consult RVing blogs about the nature of the roads suggested, and make changes to avoid the steepest, narrowest passes. We’d also exit California’s Central Valley once and for all. We’ve been in or around this massive geographic area ever since we left the Californian RV Resort back on June 25^th.

Our threesome made one final stop in the valley in Redding, CA, to secure our provisions for the next week at the local Trader Joe’s. Small talk at the register focused on the fires and smoke that had been choking the Shasta area in the last few days. Residents needed to keep their windows and doors closed to preserve some semblance of quality air in their homes, but a heat wave exacerbated the already difficult conditions, making things downright miserable. Or so went the local gossip, anyhow.

Not knowing exactly what we’d find up in Shasta, we piled back into Phoenix, and climbed out of the valley along Interstate 5 North. The highway crosses the large, man-made Lake Shasta, where once again, water levels are incredibly low. It winds through the mountains of Shasta-Trinity National Forest, passing many hillsides with scars from previous fires. We pass the time guessing at how long ago the fire occurred, by estimating the age of the undergrowth that surrounds the bare snags. A few hours later, we arrive at our destination, the Lake Siskiyou Camp Resort.

For my money, this is the best RV campground we’ve stayed at yet. This is no casino parking lot. We have a spacious site, backed up by open forest. The campground maintains a day access beach, with a terrific floating playground! Think inflatable trampoline, then add in inflatable see-saw, inflatable climbing wall & slide, and inflatable obstacle course. I will try my hand at all of it! After set up, we blew up our innertubes, readied a drybag with Bluetooth speaker and a couple drinks, and headed out for a float. The evening air still topped 90 degrees, and I estimate the lake itself was a pleasant 75 degrees.

Things were going swimmingly, pun intended, up until I jumped back into my tube after a trip down the inflatable slide, and popped it. I’d swim in, and wait for Josh and Kristin. That tube went in the dumpster on our walk back to Destiny. I was explaining how odd it was that my tube would simply pop. I jumped in, and a hole the size of my pinky opened up in the surface of the tube. Or so I thought. I was at this point trying to fish the RV keys out of the drybag… but they weren’t there. A hole the size of my pinky… or perhaps the size of the RV key!!?? DOH! One tube, and one set of RV keys, gone. Oh well. I had a full spare set on deck, so it’s nothing more than a funny story.

The following day, the three of us drove up to Castle Lake, and embarked on a 4.5 mile hike up to middle peak, then down around Heart Lake. Much of this hike was a bushwhack, but fighting the shrubbery was worth the effort to get up close views of the Castle Crags and surrounding wilderness. The Pacific Crest Trail snakes along the lower slopes of the Castle Crags, but we didn’t see any through hikers. After summitting middle peak, which required picking our way over a long rock slide, we paused for lunch on some shaded rocks, and admired the vista out over Heart and Castle Lake to Mount Shasta.

Mount Shasta is a towering 14,180 volcano, part of the same chain of volcanoes we’d be exploring for the next number of weeks. While there were a half dozen named glaciers on the peak in the 90s, now there are only patches of snow, hanging on in record heat, unlikely to make it all the way until next winter. What was left of the troubling Shasta fire that spurred all the conversation in Redding, smoldered on over a ridge, and just out of site. Were it not for the plumes of smoke, we wouldn’t have known it burned at all. The air was clear, a light breeze kept us cool, and our walk down was much less strenuous than the bushwhack up on the other side of the ridge.

Once down, we pulled out some refreshments, and hung out at Castle Lake for a quick swim. The water was cool and refreshing, and we would shiver unless we were dry and in the sun. This was a welcome change from the seemingly endless string of hot, sweaty days we’d endured to this point. We couldn’t linger too long however, as we were to be meeting an old friend back at our campsite that afternoon.

Dana arrived in her Tacoma soon after we made it back. Her Toyota is all geared up for boondocking along her route back to Tahoe, and makes a handsome rig. Kristin and I met Dana for the first time in 2012 in Nicaragua, and then again in 2014 in the same country. We were all very pleased to be able to connect again, this time on Lake Siskiyou. We again made ready the inner tubes, this time being extra careful to secure all keys in the drybag, and the four of us went for a float. A BBQ, some wine, and a nice long visit followed. Being able to combine our time on the road, with time catching up with friends from all over, has been a heart filling part of this entire journey.

We bid adieu to Dana after breakfast, inflated our paddleboards, and took to exploring further reaches of Lake Siskiyou. We would share the two boards among the three of us, Josh, Kristin and myself, by sharing one board with two people, one paddling, one sitting on the bow. This means of paddling isn’t terribly efficient, and the wind was working against us, but we managed to cross the lake, and enter a protected inlet. It was a weekend day, so there were many people out recreating. From a distance, I saw some people jumping off a bridge into the lake. You know what happens next! The marine patrol was out too, and jumping the bridge carries a fine, if caught. 

I wasn’t caught, nor was I aware of the fine. But we did watch the marine patrol come by, checking life vests on paddleboards, and shewing kids off the bridge before they’d become eligible for the financial penalty. The paddle back to the campground with the wind at our backs was a breeze, and a good thing too, because we were getting hungry!

After lunch, we spent our last afternoon exploring a nearby waterfall, Faery Falls. Two constants of the Shasta region presented themselves, as constants will. Number one, we parked next to Mt. Shasta Spiritual Tours, again. As opposed to yesterday, we met the proprietors, and shared a couple pleasantries before things got too weird. The discussion was trending toward those special, unanswerable questions, questions to which these silver-haired modern psychics seemed to have “the” answers. No thanks. Number two, we passed by a couple of vehicles occupied by, for lack of a better term, hippies. These young kids, like those we encountered yesterday, were living out of their vans/trucks/cars. They possessed the requisite crystals wrapped in macramé hanging from their necks, a couple loose dogs, and unshakable “chillness” in their demeanor. I’m not exactly sure what I expected in “NorCal”, but these roaming hippies, ostensibly on break from trimming Humboldt County’s finest outdoor, fit the bill. (If all of that last sentence is Latin to you, that’s OK, I’ve been to A LOT of Phish shows.)

I’m sure I’m not alone in our little party of three, in stating that Shasta came to an end a little too quickly. I believe we will visit again. If for no other reason than to walk up the namesake mountain, as we were forbidden entry this time around on account of the fires. We were happy to learn that our anticipated route to Crater Lake National Park, CA Route 99, had re-opened after a fire closure only the day prior. This was our first, true, look at what wildfire does. We drove 60mph, for at least 45 minutes, through what was left. Charred, limbless, tree trunks populated a ghost forest. As far as we could see, up the mountain side, out into the valley, there was nothing but burnt earth. Firefighting equipment rested on the road side. Not water trucks, rather massive bulldozers and other earth movers. The tactic to fight these fires is to contain them with firebreaks. To plow down anything that might burn, and create a wide swath of bare dirt between the fire and it’s intended fuel. Word has it that a fire named “Bootleg” is burning in Oregon, and may play a role in our future plans. Once again, we forge on, hoping for the best.

We had chosen Diamond Lake RV Park for the next three nights. And we were set up early enough to warrant a trip to Crater Lake National Park for the afternoon/evening. We entered from the north, and proceeded to follow the 33 mile loop road counter clockwise. A smoky haze filled the air, and while we could see across the lake, it wasn’t clear. The deep blue color of the lake’s surface was visible only in close by pockets, it’s noteworthy hues otherwise disguised by the smoke in the air. Unfortunately, Josh had developed a nagging knee impingement, so we did our best to keep the tour accessible to him. We stopped at many over looks, the Rim Village to buy a sticker, and generally plotted our route for the following day. We did decide to stop at Cleetwood Cove, and take the short trail down 700’ to lake level. This is the only public access to the lake, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a cliff jump waiting for me. Without proper bathing suits, Kristin would decide to stay dry, but I’d strip to my skivvies and take the leap. Crater Lake is heralded as the cleanest lake in the States, I might have knocked it down a half a peg with my dusty dip.

That night, we had a fire at our campsite. Miraculously, campfires were still allowed, even though smoke-as-a-weather-event was now our new norm. There was plenty of wood to be scavenged, and in short order I had used our bow saw to collect an evening’s worth. This was the easiest camp fire I have ever lit. I think I had the lighter under the wood for two seconds before it was ablaze. Simply incredible. What’s even more incredible, is that our next-door neighbors left their campfire at 8:30pm to put their kids to bed, and never came back. At 9:30, I used my leather gloves to scavenge substantial pieces of burning hardwood from the perimeters of their coals. At 10:30, I brought over three buckets of water, and doused the still cherry red fire pit. I wish I could say this lack of common sense was unbelievable, but one look at the fire map of the Western US will show that it is, in fact, totally believable.

Our second day at Crater Lake would feature a climb up to Mount Scott, the highest peak in the park. It’s only a 4 mile trail, and under normal conditions offers incredible views of the lake. It was still hazy this day, but we enjoyed the hike very much. We’d take lunch after at Cloudcap Overlook, then drive down to the Pinnacles, examples of extinct fumaroles, and next park for a short hike to Plainkni Falls. When finally we arrived back at Destiny, we decided to blow up the innertubes and go check out the old Diamond Lake Resort, which is somehow affiliated with our RV Park.

This resort must have been very popular in the 70s, and it seems to have avoided capital improvements ever since. It had the feel of a Steven King horror movie set. But hey, the water was warm, the sun was dropping, and we had snacks and libations. We enjoyed ourselves. The local population of ducks and ground squirrels enjoyed our presence as well; after all, each chip we dropped was free calories for them. Mount Thielsen, aka the lightening rod of the Cascades, dominates the eastern skyline. Kristin and I debated scaling the 9 miles to its summit the next day, but opted to pass, learning that climbing gear is required of the final ascent. Back to Destiny our party of three drove. Eat. Rinse. Repeat. This is a good life.

We awoke to our final day in the Crater Lake area to clear skies. No smoke. There wasn’t much we still wanted to see in the park, and we had a long list of chores to complete. Everyone is aware that we’re to drive to Portland, OR, the following day to put both Phoenix and Destiny in storage for 22 days, while we fly home for a family wedding. Tire pressures needed to be checked, truck beds needed to be cleaned and organized, clothes needed to be packed. But first, a bike ride around the 11 mile perimeter of Diamond Lake. The paved bike trail left nothing to be desired, and we finished before lunch. We’d complete most of our chores by late afternoon, and decided to finish the day back at the lakefront resort on innertubes, before one final campfire.

We got an early start, 7am PST on July 14th. We wouldn’t see a bed again until 7am EST on July 15th, in Massachusetts. But first, we had to drop off Josh in Eugene, then drop off Phoenix and Destiny at Curt’s RV Storage in Portland, then make it to PDX in time for our red eye flight home. That’s 4:35 drive time, plus gas, plus goodbyes, plus traffic, plus getting the rig set up. Fortunately, we afforded ourselves enough time for some food and a beer at a brewery prior to arriving at the airport. It was our first airport experience since March 18, 2020, when we flew home from Panama City, Panama, and entered into COVID lockdown. We were rusty. I fumbled through security. Wearing a mask for 8 straight hours, from the time we entered PDX until we exited BOS, was less pleasant than I’d hoped. I gave silent thanks to everyone who has been wearing them for long shifts for the past 17 months. 

It’s halftime on the Great American Summer Road Trip. I count roughly 18 stops thus far, and a little over 7,000 miles. Yes, we’re heading home. However, this trip we’re on feels more like home to us now, than the place in which we are soon to land.

For more photos of our time in Shasta and Crater Lake, click here.