Mount Thielsen, Oregon.
My friend Caroline Hatton, a children’s book writer and frequent contributor to this blog, took these photos in Northern California and Southern Oregon in February 2024.
At dawn, after spending the night at the Winema Historic Lodge in Tulelake, California, all we could see outside was the nose of our car poking out of impenetrable fog. We guessed that fog dissipates faster over dry land than lake water, so we drove a few miles south, entering LavaBeds National Monument,an area preserved because of its volcanic origin and Modoc native people history.
The lava flowed in the past half million years and until about a thousand years ago, from the Medicine Lake volcano on the Pacific Ring of Fire. This volcano is not pointy, tall and postcard-worthy like Mount Rainier near Seattle or Mount Hood near Portland. Instead, it is shaped like a shield, low (7921 feet or 2414 m) and broad (22 miles or 35 km from east to west and roughly 30 miles or 48 km from north to south). Yet, it is California’s largest volcano by volume and area, and its lava flows extend twice as far as it does.
A Fleener Chimney, more than 4 feet (or 1 meter) across.
We stopped at the Fleener Chimneys. Footpaths led up lava rock mounds to metal fences that kept us from falling into big, deep holes in the ground where lava once erupted up, splattered down and solidified as it cooled, gradually building up the “chimneys.”
Mount Shasta at right, as seen from the top of Schonchin Butte.
Next, we hiked to the top of Schonchin Butte (elevation 5302 feet or 1616 m). Deer tracks went all the way up the trail, so I kept looking all around, ready to jump out of the way of any startled animal. We didn’t see any wildlife (except for a Bald Eagle in flight, what a treat!), but we got a good view of the snowy cone of Mount Shasta, a 14,180-foot (4322-m) high volcano to the south, in sharp focus in the crisp, clear air.
Model of a Modoc winter lodge--partly underground, insulated by earth and tule layers.
This austere landscape of lava flows, buttes and caves was the homeland of the Modoc native people, until Europeans arrived and turned it into a battlefield during the Modoc War in 1872-3. Details are available at the Lava Beds National Monument Visitor Center, plus information about Modoc rock art and displays of craft items. As a fan of miniatures, my favorites were the models of traditional Modoc dwellings. I skipped the natural history information—for the next time I visit.
When we asked the ranger about visiting caves, he asked us to sanitize our boots, using the brushes and solutions set up outside the entrance door. This was in case we had visited caves elsewhere and encountered a deadly bat disease, white nose syndrome. Disinfecting boots before visiting caves protects local bats from infection. Caves where entire bat colonies hibernate are closed to visitors in the winter. The Ranger also made sure we had actual flashlights, because cell phone flashlights are not sufficient.
Valentine Cave pillar.
As advised, we visited Valentine Cave. After descending into the mouth of the cave, a gaping maw in lava rock, we faced a stone pillar in the underground darkness. Going around it on either side led deeper in the tube-shaped cave. The mouth of Skull Cave was the size of a road tunnel.
After the sun had vaporized all the fog, we drove to Petroglyph Point to see historic Modoc rock carvings. I found them surprisingly large and coarse, perhaps because the rock is too soft to allow finer details. Then we drove to a warm hotel in Klamath Falls, Oregon, for the second night of our winter getaway.
On the third day, driving back to Eugene was only going to take three and a half hours, so we detoured off US-97 North, heading west on OR-138, then south on OR-230 to glimpse photogenic Mount Thielsen in its snowy splendor. (See first photo.) After we spotted the Mount Thielsen Viewpoint sign on the opposite side of the road, we took advantage of a Sno-Park to turn around, and drove back slowly, facing the mountain to take photos from the car. The viewpoint and its parking area were inaccessible, smothered by snow. Next we stopped at a nearby Sno-Park (parking requires displaying a Sno-Park Permit) to snowshoe up an unplowed road, an easy walk under a bright blue sky. We were the only ones there.
When we arrived back home from our bald eagle expedition, we were thrilled to count three adult eagle sightings on our first day out, three on the second day (an adult and juvenile on the ground in morning fog and the adult flying over the lava beds), and one on the third day (upon leaving Klamath Falls.) A week later, in two hours in Eugene, we saw five adult bald eagles, and I’m pretty sure I heard the birds laughing at us for going on a car trip just to see their countryside relatives.
Yet, repeating this escapade in other seasons sounds easy and fun. When winter is over, the bats wake up from hibernation and more lava caves open to human visitors. In spring (and fall), a bazillion birds stop over on their migrations north (and south). And in summer, birds make more birds!
Part 1 of this post appeared on April 22, 2024 at The Intrepid Tourist.
All text and photos, copyright Caroline Arnold. www.theintrepidtourist.blogspot.com