When I woke up at Plumas, it was gorgeous and calm and relaxing. Like I mentioned in the previous blog, by 10am my compadres were still asleep. I was planning to go to Lassen Volcanic National Park today, but I knew most of the park was snowed in. I really only needed a single afternoon to see everything there that I wanted to see, hence the no rushing to leave early. As I lazily got ready, the weather decided to take a turn for the worse. I haven’t seen any rain in California, but I hear it’s a complete shit show when it happens. My sister Laura always tells me how people drive like ass hats in the rain, causing tons of accidents. Plus landslides are a real concerns. On top of that, not having rain for many weeks, the first rain would surely bring up all the oil on the road, making for slick conditions (is this true or am I just making excuses to stay??) Weighing my options, I decide I’ll just go slow and I’ll be fine. As I make my way to say goodbye to my new friends, they immediately tell me how dangerous it is to drive in rain, and tell me to stay one more night. I see they are genuinely concerned for my safety. So, seeing as this spot is beautiful, I decide to stay another night. But, I feel bad eating all of their food last night, so I want to go grocery shopping and replace what I’ve taken.
The closest store was a 30 min drive into the outskirts of Oroville. I’m immediately taken back by how many neck tattoos I see… The neck tattoo per capita is off the charts in this shitty little town. I get my groceries, and make a few phone calls. Cas of course, but also my buddy Eric. “Hey I think Ted Bundy is from that area, you should be careful…” Thanks Eric…
By the time I get back, the weather has dramatically improved, so I decide to hike to the falls one more time. Gotta get those steps in ya know? Dre decides to come with me, which I’m happy about because it will be dark by the time I get back. As we’re chugging along, I come across the cutest fucking animal I have ever, ever seen. A Sierra Newt. Tons of them just chilling in the trail and along the moss covered rocks. Slowly meandering along, bumping their way through vegetation. They are easy to pick up, and act as if the hand of god has come for them. Gazing into your face with no fear, they remind me of newborn puppies. Sluggish and amicable. I talk to every one I see and tell them how gorgeous they are. You’d think this would get old after the 10th one, but nope. All need to be told of their beauty.
When we get to the falls, Dre takes me to a path that brings you to where the water actually starts its tumble downwards. Campers near the head of the falls will block the trail with downed vegetation to have more privacy. Smart. I might have to use that in the future…
The rocks overlooking the falls are terrifying. Y’all remember my fear of heights, right? Even sitting a safe distance away is making my heart race. I start to feel things crawling all over me… Wait. Why would being afraid make me feel like shit was crawling on me? I look down to see ticks. At least 10, scrambling up my arms and legs. One tick bites Dre right on the neck. He exclaims that the vampire tick finally got him!! Lets hope none are hiding out in your dreads…
By the time we get back to camp, it’s dark and cold. Nick has kept the fire going, and is busy watching Dr. Who episodes on his laptop. If dad only knew he could watch his show while camping, he might actually come with me!
Dre takes the chicken I purchased and begins to make a Jamaican jerk. Apparently jerk in Jamaica and America are very different things. Jerk isn’t a flavor, it’s a process. Every household has a “house recipe,” therefore jerk should have never taken on any one flavor. There are some things in common of course, pimentos are the biggest, salt, and garlic. But everyone has their own flair. News to me…. Who knew you couldn’t buy Jamaican culture in a spice bottle at Walmart! The process basically is slow cooking over an open fire, while adding jam or honey to provide a dark appearance and to provide a crunchy coating.
After eating jerk chicken that cooked for 3 hours on the fire, corn on the cob, rice and beans, my belly is full and I’m tired as shit. We’ve been watching a movie over dinner, A Knights Tale. Actually pretty good! But I realize that it is already 12:30 (probably why I was so tired) and I should get to bed.
The next morning I head north to Lassen Volcanic National Forest. I drive past Paradise, which is just fucking gone. I thought about taking some pictures, but then realized how I would feel if someone stopped at my house after Hurricane Michael and started snapping pics. I’d probably try and kick them in the teeth. So I continue onward, not stopping, hoping to quickly pass through the charred remains of the landscape. The wildfire area is much larger than I had ever imagined.
Once at Lassen, holy shit there is so much snow. Areas around the parking lot are 12 feet high in some spots. The visitor center looks like it’s tucked in for the night under a heavy blanket of white. It’s hard to find through the maze of snow banks. I stop in and grab a passport stamp, then head to the road. The road is closed to traffic, but open to pedestrians.
The best area to see was a spot called Sulfur works, a spot where sulfuric gas is pouring out of the rock, heating the snow/water around it and bubbling up like a witches cauldron. I stand here for too long, breathing in the warm sulfur air and watching the creepy brown water jump and spit. I expect a creature to pop up at any moment now…
Once my short hike was done, I head back to the parking lot where I’ll be camping. A retired coupe is here (Carole and Dave), in lawn chairs, next to the 12ft snow bank. Trying to stake out the last bit of warm sun, they are drinking wine and laughing. They ask me to take of pic of the most ridiculous happy hour ever… I do a short photo shoot, then join them with my chair and a beer. Hey if y’all are reading this, email me one of those pics! They lived on a boat for 9 years, so living in a small motor home feels somewhat normal to them! They have driven the same route I am about to take to Alaska, so I pick their brains on where to go. Seems like everyone has the same recommendations. Denali, Homer, and don’t pay for camping. Just pull off the side of the road anywhere. I like how that sounds! They attempt to talk me into the marine highway, a ferry that takes you and your car from Seattle to Skagway, AK. After looking into the cost ($1800) I decide to decline. Also, I’m a pussy when it comes to water travel. But, this is the second group of people trying to talk me into this ferry. I’m sure it’s cool as shit, just too expensive.
Now, I’m headed north to Burney-MacArthur Falls State Park. A little spot Cas researched for me the other day. Excited to see what is supposed to be another beautiful waterfall!
