Jason and I spent this Saturday and Sunday of Labor Day Weekend in Southern Oregon. It was a spur of the moment decision, made by Jason to combat my blues over a failed backpacking trip I was trying to plan. It turned out to be everything I needed to free my pent-up, citified soul. It was a long drive, but an utterly gorgeous trip, on which we saw deer, rainbows, old growth forests, and billions of stars...and went hiking with bears.
This is a view of Mount Shasta on our way to Oregon. It's at the very southern end of the Cascade Mountain Range and it really dominates the skyline. The only thing nearby are a few low, rolling hills to the north and the Black Buttes to the south. (If you've read my other blog, you probably are already familiar with my fascination with Buttes. The Black Buttes are no different. Small, but mighty in their cragginess, they rise up in front of you as you drive south on the 5. I'd like to sit at the top of the Black Buttes and dream about Shasta.) Jason and I spent half the drive home dreaming about hiking Mount Shasta, which is impressively still considered an active (though dormant) volcano. It erupts approximately ever 650 years. Apparently, John Muir survived an avalanche on Shasta by taking shelter in the hot springs that are oozing out of its volcanic core up there. Awesome.
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| Next Stop: Mt. Shasta! |
