Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Forged by Vulcan | Part 2, The Basalt Cauldron: Expedition to Crater Lake

Prologue: 7,700 Years Ago

A few thousand years ago in what is now southwest Oregon, the 12,000 foot tall Mount Mazama experienced a profoundly violent volcanic eruption, spewing ash so high into the atmosphere that it has been identified in ice core samples from Greenland. With so much particulate matter in the air, the climate of the northern hemisphere was altered for three years following the eruption. When the magma chamber beneath the volcano emptied so abruptly, the massive mountain collapsed upon itself to form a caldera. Over hundreds of years, rain and snowmelt accumulated in the shattered remnants of Mazama to create the 1,943 foot deep Crater Lake, the deepest lake in the United States.

Remarkably, oral legends of the eruption propagated among indigenous people into the modern era. Though attributed to a godly temper tantrum, the description of the event is remarkably congruent to what the geologists tell us must have occurred. This suggests that the catastrophic eruption was witnessed by human eyes and that survivors passed the story down through generations.

By the way, if “Mazama” suggests an indigenous people’s word with profound mythological meaning for the mountain, you might be inspired to research the origin of the name. Don’t do this. You will only be disappointed.

Bucket List Destination

My favorite postcard photo from our visit to Crater Lake.

I must have been six or seven years old when I first saw someone else's photograph of a natural wonder with the beguiling name of Crater Lake. I swore to myself that I would travel there someday to see it for myself. After a few decades of delay, Crater Lake National Park did not disappoint. It is simultaneously austere and beautiful, quite possibly the most stunningly gorgeous natural setting that I have ever beheld on Earth.



We drove two hours southwest from Bend to reach the park, entering through the North Entrance on the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway.


Before ascending the slopes of Mount Mazama’s remnants, we stopped within the Pumice Desert. To the north stood the angular silhouette of Mount Thielsen, actively creating its own weather despite the relatively early morning hour.


Mine was not the only eye caught by Mount Thielsen.


The Pumice Desert region pictured here resulted from an avalanche of ash and gas-rich pumice stone that swept down the slopes of Mount Mazama (pyroclastic flow) to completely smother a valley, filling it 100 feet deep. This created such a harsh growing environment that even thousands of years later, only minimal vegetation has successfully taken hold.

First Contact


Our first glimpse of Crater Lake came at an overlook where the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway entry road intersects Rim Drive, the road that encircles the lake. From the moment we first glimpsed Crater Lake, we were awed by it, a cloistered oasis of the purest cobalt blue hidden within the rim of a jagged basalt cauldron.


Proof that we made it!


We were fortunate to arrive at the park early. The next time we drove past this overlook, it was hopelessly congested with tourists and their cars.


Common features in the park included these tall poles placed along the road to mark its passage after snowfalls. With an average annual snowfall around 42 feet, their necessity is self evident. Despite arriving in August, patches of snow remained all around the lake, including those visible in the above photo.


East of the overlook, Rim Drive climbs toward the Cleetwood Cove Trail that we would explore later in the day.


A cinder cone is visible north of the shattered slopes of Mount Mazama. I believe this one is called Red Cone and that the peak in the distance is Mount Bailey.

Finished with the overlook, we returned to the Rogue and set about negotiating Rim Drive toward Rim Village on the southern edge of the caldera. Following the natural curves of the terrain, Rim Drive snakes its way around the circumference of the rim, varying from 6,500 to 7,900 feet in elevation. There are portions of Rim Drive where the edge of the road is defined by an abrupt drop-off either to Crater Lake or to the surrounding countryside a few thousand feet below. Shoulders are minimal and guard rails nonexistent. As for me, I grew up in Michigan where a slightly deeper than normal roadside ditch might merit a guard rail.

Edges and Ladders

In the Expanse book series, Josephus Miller is a homicide detective working what is effectively a frontier town set within the asteroid Ceres. He has a mantra that runs through his mind in dangerous situations: beware doors and corners. Those are the things that will get you. 

I have my own version of this mantra: edges and ladders. Here's the thing. I don't like either. What?! A pilot afraid of heights? Well, yes. Or perhaps more accurately, a pilot afraid of falling off of stuff. I am not anxious in airplanes because they're enclosed. I am not going to fall out of them. Even open cockpit biplanes and hot air balloons sufficiently encapsulate their passengers that no one will fall out without a concerted effort. Parasailing was no problem either because I was in a harness. Mine is a highly situational phobia.

Rim Road. Photo by The Bear.

Suffice to say, there were portions of Rim Drive that sent my anxiety into overdrive such as the example pictured above with minimal shoulder between road and precipice. I am fully cognizant of the fact that this fear is irrational, but that's what makes it a phobia. It made for some tense moments driving around the rim and I probably squeezed a lot of plasticizer out of the Rogue’s steering wheel that day. At times, further distraction was provided by blizzards of California Tortoiseshell butterflies swarming the airspace over the road.

The Bear: "Dad, look over there!"

Me, with shoulders locked and gaze fixed straight ahead: "Nope. Only looking at the road."

Photo by The Bear.

Still, views of the lake as we proceeded counter clockwise along Rim Drive were utterly stunning. I just kept my distance from the edges.


A second overlook gave an excellent perspective on Wizard Island, so named because it resembles a conical wizard's hat, though this makes me wonder what happened to Mickey Mouse if the hat is all that remains. Regardless, the island is a “younger” cinder cone that formed after Mount Mazama's major eruption and subsequent collapse. Other cinder cones are present in the caldera, but hidden beneath the water. Evidently, so is Mickey.


Um, Little Bear, maybe take a couple of steps back this way from the edge?

Rim Village


Rim Village is in exactly the right spot to capture beautiful views of Crater Lake and Wizard Island.


Kristy and I took this picture inside the Sinnott Memorial overlook, a manmade enclosure fashioned from native stone designed to blend in with the cliff face.



While we picked at underwhelming lunches, The Bear worked on her Crater Lake National Park Junior Ranger packet. Some may wonder if she too old for such things, but Junior Rangers are timeless and no age limit applies!


When finished, she had a fruitful discussion with the ranger and proudly affixed a plastic Junior Ranger badge for Crater Lake National Park to her backpack.

We decided that our next excursion would be to the Sun Notch Overlook where an island known as Phantom Ship can be seen from the rim.


Along the way, we stopped to visit Vidae Falls.

Sun Notch Trail


Parking for the Sun Notch Trail is well below elevation of the rim and we followed the trail uphill to see Phantom Ship.




A peak immediately west of the Sun Notch Trail is known as Applegate Peak.


The Sun Notch is named for a northward facing glacial cut in the rim that allows for amazing views of the sunrise over Crater Lake. Mount Thielsen is visible in the distance beyond the opposite rim wall roughly 16 miles away.


Down below is the formation known as Phantom Ship, the only other island in Crater Lake besides Wizard Island.


Formed by ancient magma that filled a fissure while Mount Mazama was still growing, Phantom Ship represents ancient rock that survived the catastrophic explosion and subsequent collapse of Mazama 7,700 years ago. It is believed to be the oldest rock in the caldera and is clearly made of stout stuff.




From the Sun Notch Tail, we were able to observe additional seasonally incongruous patches of snow.


From this vantage point, the famously intense blue color of Crater Laker is apparent. Because the lake is so pristine, sunlight can penetrate deeply into the water where the longer wavelengths toward the red end of the spectrum are absorbed while the shorter wavelengths (blue) are scattered and ultimately reflected back toward the observer without being blocked by suspended particulate matter.


Talk about a “hidden Mickey”…


"Nants ingonyama, bagithi Baba!" An old throwback, a new object of delight.

Castle Crest Wildflower Trail

After the Sun Notch Trail, we detoured through the Castle Crest Wildflower Trail for a brief walk before our scheduled Crater Lake boat tour.


Although they prefer caves or other enclosed structures, trolls sometimes find acceptable cover among large trees. I don't know how this one always seems to find us no matter where we go.


Wildflowers! And mosquitoes!


Cleetwood Cove Trail

There is only one way to reach the surface of Crater Lake and that is via the Cleetwood Cove Trail. Though only a mile length, it loses 700 feet from the roughly 7,000 foot elevation of the rim through a series of switchbacks along the cliff wall.

Somehow (dumb luck), we found a spot in the congested parking lot. At the rim, tour operators feared that our 3:30 boat would be cancelled after a rumble of thunder was heard a few minutes prior. I studied the sky and saw no evidence of significantly building cumulus, the best I could do to assess weather without cellular service. We decided to risk the trail. Even if the boat tour was cancelled, we wanted the trail experience anyway.

At the top of the Cleetwood Cove Trail. It's a long way down...

Kristy (in the pink shirt) and The Bear (with the orange backpack) hiking the trail.

The trail was generally three to four feet wide and had a sandy surface. If a rainstorm did roll in, it would make for a sloppy climb back out. We passed a steady stream of ascending hikers huffing and puffing on their return to the rim.

The Bear descends through a wooded portion of the Cleetwood Cove Trail.

Crater Lake boat tours were particularly popular this summer because the trail will close at the end of this season until 2029 for significant rehab. After negotiating the trail, we understood the need. We passed sections where rockslides had occurred and were temporarily held in place with chain link fencing. A reasonably robust, if impermanent, band-aid.

Kristy reaches the bottom of the Cleetwood Cove Trail.

Only the sky ever boasts a shade of blue so rich, so pure.

Hmmm...there's an angry fist of building cumulus over there...

Two tour boats operate from this dock. They are specially designed not to contaminate the clean water with oil or gasoline. Because the trail is the only route to reach the water, the boats were delivered to the lake by helicopter. This also means that the Cleetwood Cove Trail is part of the daily commute for everyone who works with the boats.  


In addition to boat rides, Cleetwood Cove is popular with swimmers, many of whom jump from the tall rock outcropping at frame right.


From Cleetwood Cove, the cliff rises impressively toward the rim. It is no wonder that finding a suitable path for the trail was a challenge.


When our boat returned from its previous excursion, all passengers were soaked from a rain shower that occurred while they were on the water. We experienced part of that rainfall as well, but were sheltered under a tree canopy covering a portion of the trail. Happily, our hike down to the water was not for naught; our two hour boat tour was a "go".

Clear, Clean Water



As we explored the surface of the lake, I was struck by how the character of the surrounding caldera walls changed significantly around its circumference (approximately 20 miles).


The Devil's Backbone is a dike formed by molten lava as it was forced through cracks in the former interior of Mount Mazama. Harder than the material around it, the Devil's Backbone remained standing when the caldera formed. Phantom Ship is another example of a dike.



The nature of the cliff varies from rocky to silt-covered. A green tint results from lichen while the red color is evidence of underlying basalt. Red basalt is a common product of vulcanism due to oxidation of iron in the rock after exposure to heat, oxygen, and moisture.


From the water line, Wizard Island resembled other cinder cones like Pilot Butte back in Bend.


From below, the careful blending of Sinnott Memorial Overlook with the environment of the rim is more apparent.

The Crater Lake Lodge appeared more precariously placed from the lake's surface than it did from the parking lot in Rim Village.


Crater Lake is considered one of the most pristine lakes in the world. Our tour guide explained that the water of Crater Lake is exceptionally clean because precipitation is the only source of water. The National Park Service takes great care to minimize the introduction of foreign substances into the lake. Because the water is so pure, a favorite activity on tours is the "water bottle drop" where empty water bottles are filled with lake water for visitors to consume. Empty bottles are essential for this because of the aforementioned caution around introducing foreign substances into the water (i.e., no one should be dumping bottle contents from the outside world into Crater Lake to make room for lake water).


"What about giardia?" asked an eight year old that I suspect was coached by a parent.

"It's not a problem because of the ppm," responded the tour guide. It was an inadequate response, but I took her point that the levels were too low to be harmful. 

The Bear and I drank what was left in our water bottles in order to participate in the bottle drop. Indeed, the Crater Lake water was clean and refreshing.


But the National Park Service has an ecological challenge to work through. Crater Lake became a national park in 1902 through the efforts of William Gladstone Steel to preserve the site in its pristine state. However, Steel also stocked the lifeless lake with fish to encourage recreational fishing, ultimately establishing rainbow trout and kokanee salmon populations. Signal crayfish were also introduced as a food source for the fish. However, the crayfish population has exploded and their presence is affecting the delicate ecology of the lake. They also feed on native Mazama newts, a cloistered subspecies of newt unique to the caldera.

That's no Ship


Phantom Ship is the only other island in Crater Lake besides Wizard Island, but very different in character. It is an example of a dike, an old rock formation once hidden deep within Mazama that successfully survived the catastrophic explosion and collapse of the mountain.

Phantom Ship.


Pumice Castle is striking feature on the caldera wall. It is another example of a dike once buried deep within Mazama only to be exposed following the mountain's collapse.


Our tour guide posed an interesting question to the group. If the caldera is simply filling with water year after year, why has the water level been constant for decades? The answer is obvious: there must be a corresponding outflow (in addition to surface evaporation) such that the water level represents the balance of water added and water lost, approximately 34 billion gallons per year. 

Scientists believe that glacial till beneath the palisades (above photo) is where water seeps out of Crater Lake. However, this is speculative because no one knows where the water ultimately goes.


At the conclusion of our two hour boat tour, we motored back into Cleetwood Cove. From the water, I pondered the line of people toiling upward on switchbacks toward to the rim. In the above photo, people are visible on three levels of trail along with some of the temporary chain link rockslide abatement measures.


Back at the top of the Cleetwood Cove Trail, we looked out over Crater Lake with satisfaction. Our gamble paid off and the boat tour was not weathered out. We did not even get soaked like the tour group before ours. 

EAT


We departed Crater Lake National Park after a full day of exploring, hiking, beholding marvelous natural vistas, and combating the occasional anxiety attack while navigating Rim Drive. Another bucket list item checked off the list. We stopped again at the Pumice Desert pull-off where the lighting on Mount Thielsen was quite different from that morning.

Civilization on the route back to Bend is sparse. We stopped for dinner at the well-reviewed Ponderosa Public House (named for the Ponderosa pine dominating the Deschutes National Forest) in Chemult. As we pulled into the parking lot, I recognized it as being next to a diner that I mocked that morning on the way to Crater Lake because of its ramshackle appearance and a massive yellow sign on the roof of the building that simply read "EAT" in bold black lettering. (The Chemult eatery is evidently well known to players of Days Gone, a zombie apocalypse video game set in Oregon.) The reviews were spot on and the Ponderosa Public House was fantastic.

We returned to our hotel well after dark, noting that a significant rainstorm had occurred while we were away to the south. If we had more local knowledge, we might have recognized this for the unusual event that it was.

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