Anyhow, since we drive I-5 so regularly, I decided we would take Hwy. 99 north from Sacramento to Chico for a change of scenery before switching to Hwy. 32. There were a couple of interesting things along the way, like the gorgeous lavender farm, and kitschy things too, like a strange spherical industrial tank that someone had painted a cute face on, but there had been no shoulder to pull off onto to take pictures.
We had a brief delay in Yuba City where I got to languish in the car in the Central Valley heat while Scoob went into Target to buy flashlights we would need later in our trip. Luckily I was able to find a patch of shade in the parking lot and I munched on fresh cherries and read a book while I waited. Apparently the Target was huge and Scoob had a difficult time finding what he needed, and stopped at Starbucks for iced drinks before coming back to the car. At which point he had his snacks and realized he forgot to get something while he was in Target, so off he went again.
All in all, we were there about an hour and a half. I just had to keep telling myself we were on vacation and not to get worked up. We had nowhere that we needed to be that day and dawdling at Target wasn't going to make us late for anything. And it worked! When I would start to get irritated I'd would just think that sitting in the car reading was not all that different from sitting on the patio reading and the point was I was on vacation and relaxing. I seriously need to have these talks with myself more often.
We made it Susanville intact Friday night and went to the family reunion in Westwood on Saturday. We pitched horseshoes (my cousin and I were eliminated in the first round, though I did get two ringers! A first!) and played bingo. We played cow pasture golf, thankfully, cow pie frisbee was off the line up this year. I don't remember a spitting contest, though that's usually a regular event, too. The younguns had sack races, a balloon toss, and a hula hoop contest, and, of course, there was lots of food.
The one thing really missing this year was music. Grandpa always loved to strum his guitar and other family members would either play or sing along with him. Once he had his stroke, music sort of shifted to a group of cousins who had a band and the sing along aspect sort of tapered off. This year there was no music at all. I don't know why there was no music, but for me, the fact that Grumpy's not with us anymore made it all the more noticeable.
My immediate family headed out to Reno Saturday night to see Chelsea Handler, gamble, and whatnot, while Scoob and I headed to Lassen Volcanic National Park. I thought it would be a good idea to enter that park from the south and drive Hwy. 89 through the park to the north side since we were going to continue north. We were about 20 miles from the park entrance when I saw a sign stating Hwy. 89 was closed through the park due to snow.
Apparently they've had a late winter up there and got snow just a few weeks ago and the road is blocked by a 15' wall of snow. This is one of those reasons calling ahead is always recommended. It would have been nice if our guidebook had included contact information so we could have called, or even a note that the main road through the park was closed seasonally.
So we flipped the car around and backtracked to Westwood, then took Hwy. 44 along the north side of the park. Tough we did get some good shots of Lake Almanor and Mount Lassen as we doubled back.
Lake Almanor
Mount Lassen over Lake Almanor
It was almost 4 p.m. by the time we reached the northern entrance to the park, so we decided to skip it and just explore the forest and wind our way north to Burney where I'd planned to spend the night.
The burned out area near Hat Creek in Lassen National Forest
I liked this little plant that found a foothold in a fissure of this fire-blackened boulder.
I've seen this parasitic wildflower once before several years ago in Yosemite National Park.
This time I got pictures. It's called a Snow Plant or Sarcodes sanguinea.
This section of Hat Creek looked so clear and inviting.
But since we were checking in earlier than anticipated, we decided to use the time to get closer to our next destination, Lava Beds National Monument, rather than sit in a hotel room. So off we went to Alturas. Alturas turned out to be even less inviting than Burney so we grabbed a snack and headed for Klamath Falls, OR. K-Falls is only 45–60 minutes from Lava Beds whereas Alturas is 90 minutes and we knew we'd be able to find more comfortable lodgings there.
For those who don't know, I'm Modoc (among other nationalities) on my dad's side and Lava Beds was part of the tribe's traditional lands. I won't get into a history lesson here suffice it to say several points within the monument are important for various reasons. I've always meant to make the time to come here and I'm glad I finally did.
This is a section of the monument called Devil's Homestead.
This is part of Captain Jack's Stronghold. I had to restrain myself from punctuating the Park Service sign, which reads Captain Jacks Stronghold.
Scoob and me hiking in the Stronghold, where ±55 Modoc fighters held off aprrox. 600 U.S. Army troops for 5 months.
Finding life in unexpected places.
This little guy was an excellent subject and kept returning to pose on this perch.
On the trail to the Big Painted Cave. That's Scoob schlepping back to the car to get water. He says he figured it was easier to go back and get water than pack my heat exhausted body out of there. Now that there is trust—giving him the keys to the car and letting him leave me behind in this blasted land.
Indian paintbrush or Castilleja applegatei alongside the trail.
I think this is Salvia dorrii, but I thought it was striking with the black volcanic stones in the background.
Juniper skeleton.
Looking down into the crater where Big Painted Cave is located.
That's the throat of the cave. Oh yeah, we went down there.
Inside Big Painted Cave. That's ice on the floor of the cave and it was cold in there.
A nice respite from the heat outside.
A nice respite from the heat outside.
Shimmying back out of the cave.
The maw leading out to the crater from the inside.
Before going to Big Painted Cave we went to Mushpot Cave which the Park Service has made much more user-friendly–installing stairs down into the cave, highlighting different lava tube formations with permanent lighting, and leveling and paving the cave floor with concrete. I wanted to try Mushpot first to make sure I could handle being underground in tight quarters before attempting an undeveloped cave.
After our adventures in spelunking we decided to go for a more standard hike to the top of Petroglyph Point. This is the location where, according to Modoc oral tradition, the land was created. Kamookumpts, the Creator, is said to be sleeping under this bluff.
The trail up Petroglyph Bluff, or in my case Petrogrlyph Huff and Puff Bluff.
Scoob had no problem getting to the top except that he had to wait for me to catch my breath a few times.
Scoob had no problem getting to the top except that he had to wait for me to catch my breath a few times.
Beautiful wind eroded landscape at the top of Petroglyph Point.
Swallows were everywhere and we noticed the condominiums of nests in the crevasses.
Peeking out from an apartment.
After hiking to the top and finding no petroglyphs, we realized they were at the bottom.
Oh well, it was good exercise.
Oh well, it was good exercise.
Nearly the entire side of the bluff had been carved with petroglyphs.
Lovely views of Mount Shasta on the drive home.
It was a great trip and even Scoob had a good time. I never thought I would go into a cave, even though I've always kind of wanted to. And if Scoob hadn't been with me, I probably would have stopped at the throat of the cave instead of going in.
But of all the things we experienced on this trip, the strangest had to be our trip to the grocery store in Klamath Falls. There we were, strolling the aisles, replenishing our road food when a young Native woman approached me saying she'd been moved by the Holy Spirit and wanted my permission to pray for Scoob and me as a couple–more for him than me she said. Two questions came to mind—since when do you need permission to pray for someone? and if she wanted to pray for Scoob, why wasn't she asking him?
Since there's no such thing as having too many prayers said on your behalf, I consented and she, Scoob, and I had a little prayer circle going in the bakery section.
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