拉森国家公园Lassen Volcanic National Park

For the long weekend, we decided to go have a look at Lassen Volcanic National Park. And, while we were at it, the Muir house on the way.

Going in I had no real notion of Muir; all I knew was that a forest north of San Francisco carries the name. It took a walk around the house to learn he was the man who popularized the idea of the national park for Americans. Then it dawned on me that I had never once thought about this: I had always taken it as a matter of course that national parks should exist.

Manzanita Lake#

We reached the edge of the park that afternoon. One exhausting crater later, we doubled back and drove into the park. Manzanita Lake sits right by the northwest entrance: look up, and Lassen Peak stands across the water under what July has left of the snow.

The lake, meanwhile, wore the standard long-weekend look: a pile of paddleboards on the water, a pile of lounge chairs on the shore.

Lake Helen#

Toward evening we followed the park road uphill. The sulphur stuff turned out to be far too small-scale to be interesting, so we stopped beside another lake of a frankly excessive blue instead. The sun was about to go down by then and no one was left in the water; as it dropped, the whole surface broke into glitter, and the lake got a lot better-looking for it.

The shore was still busy with people coming and going. I thought: all these years on, this many people choosing a national park for their long weekend, and the lake still this blue. If Muir knew, he would be very pleased.