Day 47 - Wednesday, 8/5/09 - SETTLED

There are big-time forest fires here in the mountains, which is both exciting and frightening. Our nostrils sting from the smoke. We plan to hike in Lassen Volcanic National Park, where a volcano erupted in 1915 and 1922, leaving huge truck-sized boulders and a crater with boiling sulfur pots.

The rest areas along Hwy. 44 are well hidden in the Ponderosa Pine Woods. They is evidence that they cut down as few trees as possible for construction.

We see a phenomenon we have seen before, where on an interpretive trail there are paved extensions. We start to call them "Future Benches", as though the Park Service is waiting for someone to make a donation for a bench and put their name on a plaque. Or maybe a new interpretive sign will be placed there when they have more funding.

The trail in Lassen Volcanic National Park is spectacular, with truck-sized black kacite boulders left by the volcano as the lava cooled. There are red and grey kacite boulders left by an eruption thousands of years ago. There are rocks on the left side and pine trees clinging to the cliffs on the
right.

The signpost says 30 minutes for a 1/2 mile hike to Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pots and boiling springs left by the volcanoes. They are amazing, despite the pungent odor. But the signs lie - it takes us an hour to get in and 30 minutes to get out.

We get a late start, so we walk out of there at moonrise. Thank God the rocks on our path are white. It's a little freaky. I see moon shadows for the first time in my life. So awe-inspiring, a true religious experience! Who was it who wrote that song "Moon Shadow"? Van Morrison? I can only remember the first words: "Moon shadow, moon shadow".

Temperature drops from 92 when we depart our campground in the afternoon to 41 at night at 8500 ft. Dressed in shorts and tank-tops, we aren't exactly prepared for the cold, and end up putting on everything we can find in the car. I have 2 sweaters, an old airline blanket for a skirt, and my yellow rain slicker. Bob has a windbreaker and a green rain poncho. We are warm enough, with the effort of hiking.

There is a family who comes in just as we are leaving Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pools. Once again I have trusted that the Universe will provide - they have lights with them!

Bob has been worried about how we will get out in the dark. I have been figuring that we will just hold on to the rocks on the mountain side of the path and use my camera and his cell phone for light. There are cliffs on the other side. I've never known him to be quite so anxious.

I find out later that he was worried about encountering big wildlife on the mountain, like cougars and bears. We see chipmunks, but that's all.

While I am having a wonderful time traveling, sometimes I feel so rootless, like there is a big hole in my soul. I know it is because I am missing all my connections back home. My friends are such a big part of my life. On the one hand I am always looking forward to our next adventure, and on the other hand I am counting down the weeks until I can return to my "real" life, my home, my own bed, my neighborhood, my kitty-cats, being closer to my adorable little grandson Nathan.

We laugh sometimes at our Garmin GPS, and call it "her", as in: "Let's see what she has to say". We haven't named her, though.

Sometimes her robotness is hilarious, as when she says: "Turn on Rt. 90 NO, or when she attaches consonants to the wrong ends of words, as in "Eas Tauto Doctor", (for East Auto Drive). But we can't live without her.

The temperature is crucial to our comfort. We are constantly checking the gauge in our car.

We skip dinner. Bob eats fruit, but Corinne craves junk food. At 11:00, nothing in town is open except McDonald's, so we break down and order a McFlurry and a Large Fries.