Crater Lake National Park, Oregon

I thought that I had gazed upon everything beautiful in nature as I have spent many years traveling thousands of miles to view the beauty spots of the earth, but I have reached the climax. Never again can I gaze upon the beauty spots of the earth and enjoy them as being the finest thing I have ever seen. Crater Lake is far above them all. – Jack London, 1911

Mark and I are less enchanted when we arrive through the north entrance to Crater Lake National Park one late afternoon in early September.

The sky is the colorless haze it often is this time of year. Just where the north access road meets Rim Road, which circles the lake, is a pull off with a short climb to the overlook.

We know this will be the highlight of our Oregon trip. We’ve seen pictures and read accounts, and our anticipation of finally viewing the wondrous, glorious, unbelievably blue beauty of Crater Lake is almost satisfied.

Yet we’re disappointed.

“Huh.” A simple acknowledgement is our reaction to what is arguably the most beautiful natural thing on earth. Smoke from a forest fire to the west has settled in over the lake, marring our initial view, squashing our expectations, reneging on the guarantee of blow-you-away beauty the National Park Service promises visitors. Wizard Island, the small caldera formed from a volcanic “burp” is to the west,

and all the way over to the east is an island called Phantom Ship, and it is about the size of a pirate’s ship with spindly trees sticking up to pass for masts.

We can see a thicker layer of gray moving in from the west so drive east around Rim Road, trying to outrun it. We stop frequently at lookout points, but it’s all the same: smoky. But the smoke offers us a unique view of the Phantom Ship, which looks menacing, like it’s just breaking through the fog of early morning, en route to an attack.

We exit out the south and hope tomorrow gives better views.

We arrive in the park just after 8 am and drive to Rim Village, park and walk out to the rim of the lake. Indeed, the smoke has cleared and we’re rewarded with a jaw-dropping view of Wizard Island.

Driving north along the western rim, we stop to read about the fire. It started in July from a lightning strike. Since it started naturally, the Park Service is allowing it to burn out naturally, but they are monitoring it. Natural fires are worthwhile because they clean up the dense underbrush, which steels nourishment from the soil. If it had started from a campfire, the fire would have been doused.

At Cleetwood Trailhead, we park and hurry down the steep, mile-long trail to the water’s edge and are the last two admitted on the 10-am bout tour. Our captain eases through the lake, stopping at waterfalls or rock formations while another ranger gives commentary. Crater Lake has no tributaries running into or out of it, which is why it’s so clear. It holds the world record for clarity: 142 feet. The height of the water varies only a few feet per year due to snowmelt and evaporation.
Finally at Wizard Island, Mark and I disembark and hike a mile that circles the caldera to the top. We are intent on the steep trail as we only have an hour, however, we frequently look out to the lake in awe of its magnificence. The beauty of the clear, blue water brings tears to my eyes.

Finally at the caldera’s rim, we sit on some dead wood and have a picnic lunch before heading back to the dock. Several people swim, and I consider it until I dip my toes in. Too cold for me. On the return trip, the captain circles the phantom ship, which, up close and in the clear, doesn’t look so menacing. We go by an orange outcropping of rocks called Pumice Castle. I almost expect a royal figure to step out and wave.

Back at Cleetwood Trail, we all unload and make the laborious tramp up the trail. In the car, Mark and I aim east, as yesterday. This afternoon we turn back a seven-mile road to The Pinnacles. We don’t know what to expect.

Pointy, formations, which look like hardened, gray sugar, stick up from what was a river bed and is now overgrown. How did they form and what are they exactly? We don’t know, but we’re glad we made the drive back here as in all our travels, we’ve never seen anything like them.
We end the day by sitting in on a ranger program and visiting the small museum, where we see what British author Jack London said about Crater Lake (see above quote). On this day, clearer than yesterday, we both agree.