Hike to Bumpass Hell - Part 3

I have just a few more to show, if Mr. Computer will oblige me.  Let's see.

This creek and pool flow into Bumpass Hell, providing at least some of the water that pools and boils

Above Bumpass Hell, you must pass by this straight up fine gravel hill before heading over the ridge and down, either away from, or back towards the sulfur wonderland.  I went a ways on, and then came back and headed  to my car.

One last pool to see from a viewing platform I hadn't gone up.

Zoom up on the pool

Last look, with a person on the boardwalk for perspective.  Time to head up and out.

Later day sunlight shows the colors that Helen Lake is famous for; deep sapphire center with turquoise edges

This is a pale representation of the color hues, but I'm glad to have this shot to show you anyway.

This one is for my mother.  This is where she got out and walked on snow with us back in, what, 1984? '89?  Anyway, here's one of the many patches of snow I saw lying by the road up at the 8000-8511 ft. level.

I may show a few specific things in a future blog post, but for now, this is my Bumpass Hell show.  I hope you liked it.

Hike to Bumpass Hell - Part 2

Here's the star of the show - the noisy, sulfur-smelly Bumpass Hell itself!  Sara has shown this place before, but I've learned, you can never get enough of it.  So I offer my views.

Here it is from the first viewing place.  I'm still about a quarter-or-half-mile away from the sulfur works. but the smell has come to greet me, and the sound of the steam ventings is very noticeable.

first I have to go down this hill (and later, come back up it)

then I've got this hill, which at least is edged in plump mountain lupin

Okay!  Here I am, and it's warmer down here with the heat off the mudpots

I loved this particular noisy little "dry" mudpot, which they described as not a fumerole (stem vent) and not quite a boiling spring, which has more water in it.  But the mudpot was sputtering way down in, and I could just see one bubbling place in one of the tubes, so it's not a fumerole

the boardwalks are wonderful, but I also learned that some old sections have been eaten or made unsafe by newly emerging bubblings or heat.

the Info-board called this the Pot of Fool's Gold because there is black sand - iron pyrite - which is a sign that gold may be nearby - floating on the surface

art shot of the boiling waters

close-up of the black sand bubbles

I tried to capture the spurtings that were constant in this particular boil.  It actually threw material up, which is what you're seeing.  In the front sunlit puddles you can see slower forming bubbles.

This boiling spring hissed and crackled like bacon frying.

All of these "holes" will get larger over time, and the signs told me that the Big Boil has enlargened greatly over the years.  It's what ate a whole section of boardwalk several years back.

It interested me to see this boiling spring so dry.  I seem to recall it as being very pretty and colorful and much pond-ier.

art shot with reflection

I proceeded to hike up and above the Bumpass Hell zone, and on my way, I saw this tree with super cool bark.  If I had taken photos of all the cool shaped trees I saw, I could fill a book.

There it is from the other side, looking at where I came in, through the trees in the center of the shot.

I am having SO MUCH TROUBLE with my computer, that I'm going to stop here, and publish.  I have more shots to show, and I went back to Lassen again Tuesday so, I'll be back, but this is just ridiculous!  I have so much to say and tell and show!  Enjoy!

Hike to Bumpass Hell - Part 1

With Jeffery on his own adventure, I decided that his suggestion of Mt. Lassen was appealing, so yesterday I left Tobin later than I'd wished, at 5:10 a.m., to drive the 2 hours so that I'd beat the heat of the day on the hike to Bumpass Hell.  I stopped to take photos, so I didn't begin hiking until 7:45, but it was in the upper 50-degrees, very pleasant for my jaunt.  Coming back was a lot hotter, and much more crowded.
It's taken me all day to get this far, so I'm going to publish my adventure in two parts.

I saw the sunrise!  It came up as I drove along the west shore of Lake Almanor

Coming into Child's Meadows.  I don't know what peak I'm looking at.

This barn falls a little more each time we come along this road, which isn't that often, really.

There's Mt. Lassen!  I'm still a half hour from it, due to the winding roads I must travel.

The "new" Lodge at the south end of Lassen National Park.

I love this shaped peak in the morning sunlight.

I'm pretty sure the left-side moutain is Brokeoff

Looking from the parking lot sort of towards where I'm heading, and out into the valley to the south-west

Shadow-selfie to prove I'm really there.

my destination

loved these trees in the morning light

Mt. Lassen Peak with Helen Lake in front of it.

Some sections have trees along the trail

Then there are the rocky open areas, which will get hot when the sun arrives

I am standing at the bottom of this rubble pile, looking up, no tricks; straight up; and I don't know how this was created.

Loved these trees, growing like mushrooms.

Grouse?  Ptarmigan?

There it is!  Almost there.  You can just see it.

I'll be back again soon, with much strange beauty to show you.

Silly Scribblings from NYC

I found this sheet of note paper in among some stuff.  It is my doodles from my time in New York; times not captured by camera; the everyday people I encountered or interacted with; the stories of my wendings around the city.  I show you the two sides of the sheet, and then tell the stories under each doodle.  Hope I don't shock or bore. (grin)

The lady was skin and bones, curled up on the sidewalk, rocking slightly, her stuff around her.  I had a half a sandwhich in my backpack, so I gave it to her, and laid a hand on her for a moment.  I don't know if she even knew I was there.  (I also used to buy bananas - 5 for $1 - and eat some, and hand out some to the street people, since you can feed quite a few people with $2.  Several of them seemed taken aback by being handed a banana.)

I went into a little side-park in Manhattan to eat my donut, and these various fellows came into the area after I had.  The one fellow seemed unhappy with my presence, so, with hand signals and expressions, I asked the two on the bench if I should leave.  They shrugged "I don't know".  The angry guy started stomping around, so I signalled that I was leaving, and then flashed the two the peace sign.  One of them shouted out "I like you!".  I still don't know if they knew the angry guy, or if they had business with him, or what.

I was at corner of Central Park, sipping a cuppa, when I spotted this clean, tidy little family being offered bike rentals by one of the ubiquitous sales people.  While the parents were held in sway, the kids were obviously leery of the old Aqualung dude on the bench, who was muttering and gesturing to himself, but with his eyes occasionally peering at them.  The brother of the two girls was most protective.  I hung out until the parents escaped the young bike-rep and went on their way.

I'm outside Penn Station, waiting to take some bus or train, having a smoke, when this ripped-shirt, stained pants guy comes up to me to bum a cigarette. (there were many of those).  I gave him one, and lit it, and we smoked a minute.  Then he looks at me, and says "where are you from", as if I'm certainly from someplace he's not familiar with.  When I tell him California, he seems to think that makes sense.  Hmmmm.  Was it my outfit?

This one's going to upset my mother.  I was "burning one" in a special place I'd found in Central Park, when these two guys and their pit bull come near, setting up their zone about 30 ft away.  The dog bounds over, and luckily is friendly, and one of the guys comes to talk.  I offer him a smoke, but he has his cig, so we chat a bit.  But really, his friend and he wish I'd go away.  Finally, I clue in - they want to shoot up.  So I say, "well, I'll leave you some space", and I wander off.

I met up with Dennis several times on my morning walks when I was staying with Jeffery in Brooklyn.  I'd met another fellow (Brian?) who worked for Ready Willing and Able, and in looking for him, I met Dennis. It was fun to spend just five minutes saying good morning to someone who was happy to say good morning back.  I learned just a tad about what it's like to live in NYC for most of your life, too.  

I loved to head up to Central Park early enough to see the Dog Hour, when people could bring their dogs and let them off their leashes to play.  I'd get a cuppa and a powdered jelly donut, and bring my journal to write in, or my stitchery, and I'd just watch the world go by.  One day, a girl and her dog came to share my space and a bit of chit-chat.  She hung out quietly, sort of shyly, for about 10 or 15 munutes, and then she and her dog wandered off.

Walking down Columbus or 8th above the Park, a cross-dressed man walked and talked with me about his experiences in the city as a renter; the costs of various neighborhoods, and how things used to be.  It was really interesting.

There you go, my cartoons.  Grandma Loo, I'm thinking of you!