Cavernous wonders

The weekend of the 4th my friends and I visited Lake Shasta and the Lassen National Park. A most vivacious group, crackling with wit and curiosity, warmth and good humor, made the weekend all the more memorable.
Day 1: Friday, the 4th
The cool morning air gave way to a toasty mid-morning by the time we reached the lake campgrounds. Parched expanses with sparse vegetation tinged yellow and brown stretched for miles around. Rings of variegated earthen colors baked out from where the water had evaporated encircled the lake. I thought to myself, what an unremarkable scenery...
We went about setting up our tents. One in particular proved our undoing. An irregular hexagon, if you will, was hoisted trying every combination of A-A and B-B, mostly getting A-C and B-A for the first 20 minutes. Finally, we got our geometry in order. Hurrah!
As I patted the dust off my hands and stood back to admire our handiwork, it struck me that here I was, a grown adult, about to 'live' in my tent-house! Okay, let me back up a bit. As a 5-year old my greatest desire was to own a tent-house. The kind my cousin had, and invited me over to have tea in every weekend, painted to look like a red brick structure, with yellow window panes and a little gray chimney. A make-believe world of our own, complete with a house, front and back yard; miniature cutlery, imagined friends, a battery-operated 'real' dog and time that stood still for us. Perfect. Almost. I would still go home and wish I had one of my own. Petty, I say. Yet.
And now, 20 years later, I stood outside yet another tent-'house', real friends, wilderness all round and a starry night that was sure to come and sighed with contentment.
At any rate, we made quick time to get on board the boat ride at the lake, to be followed by a quick bus ride to the Shasta caves. A full five minutes after we had entered the cool, dark interiors of the cavern, hundreds of thousand years in the making, I realized, that it was not the patchwork scenery or the lake itself that was to be the highlight of this day, but these mysterious caves.
A narrow path had been made for tourists, slippery in some places from the drops of water that fell intermittently. Stalactites in various stages of formation hung low. From thin and hollow-like, wafer thin 'straws' to waxy cones, to entire columns where stalactites and stalagmites met could be seen. As we made our way further interior and upwards, careful not to touch anything, lest the oils from our skin interrupted the calcite crystal formation, every turn of the corner brought an amazing new display; ceilings of broccoli, shallow craters or 'peanut brittle', clay icicles, ragged jaws and stony daggers.
Very low wattage lights, placed in nooks and crevices, let the light bounce off the surfaces and play with our imagination, lit the way up. The tour culminated in a grand finale: a discovery 'room' with a balcony with the the most stunning formation of 'drapes'. A continuous arrangement of sheet-like stalactites, starting off wavy at the top ending sharp and straight when viewed from the side. They hung like curtains of some ancient alphabet engraved into the rock, curling into intricate designs and patterns.
A truly magnificent display of what nature had quietly designed while we went about our business in the hub of civilization. There was stunned silence as we marched out of the caves and back into a shock of sunlight, and onto the bus. Truly marvelous, and utterly awe-inspiring.
The short trek up from the lake, where the boat ride had ended back up to the main recreational area was sufficient to tire us, especially with the sun beating down fiercely. What was supposed to be a short break turned into an extended halt, with some taking naps, a few going nearly delirious over a delicious trail mix made all the more so with molten chocolate, and a few others restless to get a short hike out of the way. Eventually, the heat just got the better of us and we decided to drive instead towards Mt. Shasta, secretly harboring hopes of catching the fireworks somewhere along the way back.
An hour into the drive and the sun had mellowed considerably, and bright flowers dotting the way inspired us to pull up at the earliest suggestion of a trail head and get on our feet. The trail we chose was a short one, with only a modest gain in elevation but gave us glimpses of the beautiful Mt. Shasta off in the distance. The snow- capped peak would play hide and seek with us, sometimes hidden by a cloud, sometimes smothered by smoke, at others glistening white and glorious.
The hike back down was spent debating whether or not Qabuli channa would be made for dinner. Quite hilarious in retrospect, considering we were all utterly exhausted and happy to chew on anything edible, that we ended up eating Maggi. (Yes, much to the disappointment of the food crew, who'd planned a semi-barbecue over camp fire.)The food, plentiful and almost excessive as it was, was only incidental, as yet another bright new day awaited us, to be begun at the crack of dawn.
We had picked a tidy little spot, off the road on a slight incline, with a lake-view close by. So, in the morning, just before we left the campgrounds for our next destination we took off on an ever-so-mini 'hike'. From where we were parked, at a short walk down the road where it bent further into the camping area, was a grove of Manzanita trees and some wild bushes. Walking down through the mesh, we could see a clearing, offering a view of the lake. The last look at the lake was indeed more remarkable than my first one had been. The muddy shore was lined with trees, some lying prostrate with jagged branches, jutting out over the waters. A stark scene it was, with a raw appeal nonetheless.
A beautiful stop by all means.
Onward ho!