Lassen Peak

Atop Lassen's plug dome, with Shasta in the background

5 miles round trip, 2000 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Moderate, with short scramble at the end to reach summit; this hike begins at a high altitude and goes even higher.
Access: Paved road to a large trailhead parking lot. As of autumn 2015, Lassen Volcanic National Park entrance fee is $20.

Lassen Peak has the distinction of being the second tallest peak in northern California, the southernmost major Cascade volcano, and one of only two volcanoes in the contiguous United States to erupt in the twentieth century. Even though the summit tops out at 10,457 feet, the trail to the top is a fairly simple day hike that can be tackled by most reasonably fit people. The rewards are a close-up look at the summit crater of a plug dome volcano that last erupted less than a hundred years ago and sweeping views of the south Cascades, Central Valley, Coast Ranges, northern Sierra Nevada, and the Great Basin. The final scramble at the end is slightly more challenging, but even those who skip the scramble can still enjoy most of the fine views from the false summit. You'll want to bring sunscreen on this hike: most of the trail is quite exposed, with only minimal tree cover during the first part of the hike.

Lassen Volcanic National Park is a decently long way from anywhere, unless you live in or are visiting Red Bluff, California. It's a four-hour drive from the Bay Area to the trailhead when there's no traffic, with an endless stretch of passing by hazy cropland on I-5.

The trailhead is a vey sizable parking lot near the high point of the Park Road. The summit isn't visible from the trailhead, but it is possible to look up the barren, rocky slopes to see Vulcan's Eye, a prominent and instantly recognizable geological feature halfway up the mountain's south slope.

I hiked this trail with three friends after camping the night before at Manzanita Lake and spending the morning exploring Bumpass Hell. After lunching at Lake Helen, we made the short drive over the trailhead and started up the barren trail through a valley of loose dacite. Vulcan's Eye towered above us: it was as if the mountain itself was gazing upon the approaching hikers with suspicion. After reaching the foot of the main slope, the trail made a switchback, with a sign at the switchback discouraging hikers from cutting switchbacks and heading straight up the slope.

The long first switchback brought us onto the slopes of the mountain itself and we began an ascent towards the northeast. Here, a sign informed us that Vulcan's Eye is actually a former conduit for lava that has since solidified.

Lassen Peak, Vulcan's Eye

Though trees occasionally lined the trail, we were mostly out in the open on Lassen's south slopes, which provided us with excellent views to the south of nearby Reading Peak and faraway Lake Almanor. As we ascended, the heart shape of Lake Almanor became more and more apparent, while Reading Peak, which dominated the nearby landscape when viewed from the lower slopes, shrank to just another bump below the horizon.

Reading Peak and Lake Almanor

Meanwhile, the trail picked up its pace and began a moderately steep and steady ascent using a series of increasingly short switchbacks. Brokeoff Mountain and the other remnant peaks of the former Mount Tehama were soon visible in the west. As we climbed higher, we began to catch glimpses of the Central Valley, which was intially blocked by closer peaks.

Brokeoff Mountain

We made quick progress and soon found ourselves about halfway up at a sharp switchback with a view of the entire southeast face of Lassen Peak. From here, we could look up and see the trail switchbacking continuously up a ridge towards the summit. The trail here was remarkably well built, with stone walls and stone steps occasionally making travel a bit easier.

The ascent up Lassen

Further up the steady switchbacks, the number of trees along the trail dwindled. Those trees that could survive the exposure high on Lassen's slopes had been sculpted by the wind into grotesque krummholz, their branches twisting to find leeward shelter.

Krummholz

As the switchbacks continued, the views improved. The sapphire-blue waters of Lake Helen were soon fully visible, as were Juniper and Butte Lakes to the west. Pine forests stretched to the horizon to the south while the barren, arid mountains of the Great Basin came into distant view in the east.

Lake Helen

The trail often left us a little breathless, and not just from the wide views: the endless switchbacks had brought us to over 10,000 feet above sea level, where the air was substantially thinner. Each trailside placard indicated that we were a little closer to the summit, until we finally reached the summit ridge about an hour and a half after leaving the trailhead. The croplands of California's Central Valley was laid out beneath us and across the valley we could see the sharp peaks of the Trinity Alps. Views to the southwest were unfortunately limited by smog in the valley.

A short walk along the ridge brought us to the false summit, from which we could look straight down into the summit crater left from the eruptions of the early twentieth century. The crater looked less like traditional ideas of a steaming volcanic pit and instead looked more like a rubbish heap of dacite and ash. Four annotated placards detailed the views in all directions. Many hikers ended their hike here, but we decided to continue to the true summit, which rose less than a hundred feet more to the east of the false summit.

Final section of trail and scramble to the peak

We followed a path into the saddle between the peaks, passing the last patches of snow left over from snowstorms of years past (certainly not snow from the previous drought winter). The well-defined path petered out at the peak, so we scrambled in the general direction of the summit. Soon, we were atop the second highest peak in Northern California with hundred-mile views in nearly every direction.

Mt. Shasta, a great stratovolcano that is the second tallest of the Cascade volcanoes, rose to the north. Joaquin Miller once described Shasta as "lone as God, white as a winter moon," a description that was a little less apt during one of the driest seasons in California ever. Although some glaciers on its south slopes were still visible, the peak seemed largely denuded of ice.

The glaciated cone of Mt. Shasta in the distance

Scrambling to the east side of the peak, we found concrete blocks and a flat platform, remnants of a former weather station. From here, we surveyed the eastern part of Lassen Volcanic National Park. The most noticeable feature was the barren eastern slope of the mountain: this was the area devastated by the series of eruptions in the 1910s, including the most violent eruption in 1915, that helped to shape build the summit crater and the eastern slopes of Lassen Peak. This eruption was one of only two in the contiguous United States in the twentieth century, and was the first eruption in the US to be documented by photographs. These eruptions and the opportunities for scientific research that they provided were the impetus for transforming this otherwise quiet Northern California landscape into a national park.

Signs of volcanism weren't limited to Lassen itself: to the east were Prospect Mountain and Mt. Harkness, both gently-sloped shield volcanoes active in some geologically recent but anthropologically distant past. The Cinder Cone and the Fantastic Lava Beds were visible near the south end of Butte Lake. One wonders if the formation of Cinder Cone followed a simular script to that of Paricutin in Mexico: that of a crack in otherwise nondescript earth very suddenly bursting forth into a fountain of hot rock, catching unaware any farmers (or foraging wildlife) nearby.

In fact, there are few places like Lassen to see the different manifestations of volcanism. Lassen Peak is itself a dacite plug dome, with occasional explosive eruptions but formed primarily from the solidification of some fairly silicic and viscous lava that blocks an underlying source of extrusion. Brokeoff Mountain, to the southwest, is the remnants of the collapsed Mount Tehama, once a great stratovolcano composed of layered lava and ash flows; Mt. Shasta, visible far to the north, formed through a similar process, as did most of the other well-known Cascade volcanoes. Cinder Cone is, appropriately, a cinder cone: formed from explosive eruptions that deposit a hill of ash and volcanic rocks around the source of volcanism. Harkness and Prospect, both shield volcanoes, arose through eruptions of less viscous lava, which pooled out and created gentle slopes leading up to their summit craters.

Chaos Crags and the Devestated Area

Cinder Cone and the Fantastic Lava Beds

We spent a half hour at the summit before making our return. At the bottom of the summit block, a few hikers informed us that great views were to be had at the north end of the summit crater- where I'm sure Manzanita Lake would have been visible- but we decided to skip the view in order to make it back to the Bay Area in time that night.

Bumpass Hell

Sulfur-stained landscape of Bumpass Hell

3 miles round trip, 450 feet elevation gain
Difficulty: Easy
Access: Paved road to trailhead. As of autumn 2015, Lassen Volcanic National Park entrance fee is $20.

Bumpass Hell: what a name! The steaming fumaroles and hot springs aren't too shabby, either, and all this is easily accessible at the end of a 1.5 miles of hiking with just a bit of up and down. The hell is a small valley filled with bubbling mud, huge boiling pools, and the constant smell of sulfur, a geothermal wonderland formed by the heat from the volcanism of the Lassen Peak area. It's one of the highlights of Lassen Volcanic National Park, an oft-overlooked protected area in northern California that preserves the recently-active Lassen Peak and the surrounding landscape of varied volcanic features. Bumpass Hell is the most extensive area of geothermal features in the park. While you can't find geysers here, you can see Big Boiler, one of the hottest fumaroles in the world, and a barren landscape of wild colors.

I visited Lassen Volcanic with three friends from the Bay Area; we camped for a night at Manzanita Lake Campground, in the north of the park, before exploring the park and hiking Bumpass Hell the next day. The appeal of this hike lay of course in its geological features, but our interest in this hike was at least somewhat attributable to our (unfortunately) childish delight at the name. The Bumpass Hell trailhead is at least 4 hours driving from the Bay Area, so I won't go over driving directions. The trailhead lies to the south of the road just west of Lake Helen and is on the right side of the road for those northbound on the Lassen Park Road. The trail starts at over 8000 feet above sea level, so it's prudent to spend time acclimtatizing before heading out, though most will find this fairly easy hike doable despite the higher elevation when just barely removed from sea level.

The trail departs from the east end of the fairly large parking area for Bumpass Hell and proceeds to parallel the road for the first 200 meters or so, passing an excellent viewpoint of Lassen Peak rising behind Lake Helen. Past this point, the trail begins a gradual but fairly gentle ascent along the rocky west side of Bumpass Mountain, with increasingly impressive views to the west of Brokeoff Mountain. The views are the most impressive at a viewpoint about a mile into the hike that is accessible by taking a short spur to the right of the trail. From this point, there is a magnificent view of Brokeoff and Pilot Mountains, which are annotated on a series of interpretive plaques. These signs also detailed how Brokeoff Mountain is a remnant of the former Mt. Tehama, a great stratovolcano (a similar style of volcano to Mounts Shasta, St. Helens, and Rainier) that has since eroded. Brokeoff Mountain once formed the south side of that volcano. Views also stretch to the southwest into California's Central Valley.

Brokeoff and Pilot Mountains from Bumpass Hell Trail

Past the viewpoint, the trail swung toward the east and continued a gradual ascent. After another turn towards the south, the trail cut through a meadow that featured a clear view of Lassen Peak to the north. We could see Vulcan's Eye, a prominent round spot on the south face of the mountain that was once a volcanic vent.

Lassen Peak along the Bumpass Hell Trail

Soon after this viewpoint, the trail reached its high point on a saddle. From here, we could smell the sulfur wafting out of the valley of Bumpass Hell below. After reading some signage warning us of the dangers of wandering off-trail in the geothermal area, we began the descent into Hell. This was the steepest section of the hike and made for a decent workout on the return; during our way in, we were able to sneak peeks of the steaming valley below through the pines.

Bumpass Hell

Once we reached the bottom of the valley, we hopped onto the boardwalk leading through the geothermal area. It's prudent to follow the instructions posted around the area and stay on trail: the crust of the valley is very thin in many places and can often give way to boiling water below. The geothermal valley actually received its name from Kendall Bumpass, a European settler who severely burned his leg when it broke through the crust and came in contact with scalding water.

A short spur from the boardwalk led to a view of fantastically-colored pools of high-mineral content turquoise water nestled in a yellow, sulfur-stained rockscape. Bubbling pots of yellow and gray mud popped up in every little crustal depression; a steaming stream flowed down a mineral-stained gully from Big Boiler, one of the hottest fumaroles on the planet; an unseen pool flung occasional globs of mud a few feet into the air. The stench of sulfur was everywhere. Hell, indeed.

Fumaroles and mudpots in Bumpass Hell

The immense amount of geothermal heat under the cluster of volcanic features at Lassen Volcanic is responsible for the unusual features of Bumpass Hell. A large amount of magma lies fairly close to the surface beneath the park; groundwater that seeps down to that magma is heated to incredible temperatures, causing that water to rise back to the surface in the form of hot springs and fumaroles.

Sections of the boardwalk were closed off during our visit, so we were unfortunately unable to see the entire area. It took us just half an hour to make our way back to the trailhead.