Lassen Volcanic National Park; Oct 1st, 2025

 Last night sleeping in the Airstream was very quiet, and I would like to believe that I had a good night's sleep. I woke up around 7 a.m., per the daily protocol. I put my stuff together and was ready to leave for my next destination.

While checking out, I looked at the host binders and had the curiosity to read people’s notes. One specific thing caught my attention: a poem by Mary Oliver, very relatable, powerful, and meaningful. I absolutely loved it (picture below).

I drove to the nearest gas station, filled up, and bought a sausage and a coffee. For some reason, gas station coffee always feels the best. It was Tuesday, a typical working day, and people were going about their daily lives. It was time to leave this lovely town of 800 people. I enjoyed every moment here, perhaps because it was so quiet. I didn’t find a single human on the beach after spending almost an hour there yesterday.

The drive to Lassen Volcanic National Park was almost four hours, which I was okay with as long as I got there by 11 a.m. Based on the research I had done, there wasn’t much to do at Lassen except hiking Lassen Peak, which was my goal. Most of my drive was through Trinity National Forest.

California is so rich in so many ways that it has extensive forests due to its diverse geography, varied climate, and unique environmental conditions that support different ecosystems. The beauty of this state includes mountainous regions like the Sierra Nevada, redwoods, coastal strips, and so much wildlife, not to mention the beach life and all the nightlife in cities like LA. So many reasons why it’s one of the most expensive states in the U.S.

The weather throughout the drive was unpredictable, mainly cloudy, sometimes rainy, foggy, and even sunny.

Before approaching the park and leaving the forest, I could tell how the landscape was changing as I started seeing a lot of volcanic rocks. The government had shut down as of this morning, according to the news. I arrived at the visitor center at 11 a.m. As expected, it was closed, and not even a map was available. Visitors didn’t seem to know what they were up to, and there was no connection. I started driving through the park looking for a sign to take me to Lassen Volcanic.

I stopped briefly at Manzanita Lake, but the weather wasn’t clear enough to see any views. It was cold, windy, and cloudy, and I could see evidence of snow. I didn’t have a good feeling about this weather. It took me almost 40 minutes to reach the Lassen Volcanic parking lot. I couldn’t find anyone else there except a service car and a family (a couple and their son) who seemed to be getting ready to climb up.

I asked, “Are you guys planning to go up?” They nodded and said yes. I threw some extra excitement in the air and said, “Yes, let’s do this!” I started putting on layers and getting my backpack ready.

I had many arguments with myself about whether I should take my snow hiking shoes or my regular light sneakers. Thankfully, I decided on the snowshoes; I would thank myself later.

I hit the trail a little before noon. It was almost dark, foggy, cloudy, and cold. I bravely started hiking up. After about half a mile, I met the family again. I jokingly said I didn’t plan for this weather. They were cautious with their son, who seemed to be about 12 years old. They were moving slowly and very carefully due to the strong winds.

As I reached the first mile, the wind grew stronger, and the snow became deeper, in some areas, over two feet. By 1:30 p.m., when I had climbed almost two miles, it was extremely windy, the strongest wind I have ever experienced. It was cold and icy. My progress wasn’t as fast as I wanted, but I didn’t stop. I kept going, even though I realized I wasn’t ready for this mission, mainly due to not having the proper gear.

I could barely see the trail, though thankfully, it seemed some people had hiked it earlier. The trail fence was heavily coated in thick ice formations that had built up in one direction from the strong, consistent wind and freezing temperatures.

Eventually, I met two hikers going down. They only said, “It’s brutal up there.” I replied, “I got this.”

By about 2:00 p.m., I arrived at a point where there were four exhibit panels fully covered with ice. I thought this was the peak, but I wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t see any more of the trail due to the snow and limited visibility. I needed a break, a snack, and a few moments without feeling like I’d be blown away by the wind.

I found some security on a nearby large rock, sheltered there for a few minutes, looked at my phone, and yes, I was right; this point wasn’t the peak. The peak was about 0.3 miles ahead. Even though I was counting every step, I decided to go for it.

Honestly, it was extremely difficult to navigate the trail in this weather, checking my phone, pushing through the snow, but I made it eventually. I took some photos, yelled and shouted as loud as I could on top of that brutal mountain, celebrating my own unknown mystery achievement, then started hiking back as quickly as I could.

I was lucky to have brought my scarf, which protected my face from freezing. I’ve had this scarf for at least ten years; sometimes things have hidden purposes. So many times, I’ve looked at it and wanted to donate it.

I was back at the parking lot by almost 3 p.m. I met the same family again; they were still coming down since they had decided to turn around. I told them that was a very smart decision. I also met a group of teenagers with their parents. I told them about the conditions up there, but they didn’t seem convinced. I hope they turned around; they didn’t seem equipped enough, unlike the two other guys I met later at the parking lot, who looked extremely professional, wearing all the gear this weather requires. I told them, “You guys are more than ready for it, unlike me.” I wished them good luck.

In the lot, people were coming and checking out the map, but I didn’t see anyone else attempting it. I made some tea, much needed, ate some fig cookies, and started driving out of the park.

I thanked nature, despite the harsh conditions, for allowing me to come back safely. Now I know how people die on top of mountains.

There was so much burned forest in this park. I stopped at a few overlook viewpoints; the weather was beautiful down below the mountains, clouds dancing over the landscape, amazing nature views, and sunshine on the other side.

Some info about Lassen Peak: it is also commonly referred to as Mount Lassen. It’s a 10,457-foot (3,187 m) lava dome volcano, the southernmost active volcano in the Cascade Range of the Western United States. It supports many flora and fauna among its diverse habitats, which reach high elevations and are subject to frequent snowfall. Lassen Peak has a volume of 0.6 cu mi (2.5 km³), making it one of the largest lava domes on Earth. Hike distance: 6 miles.

I started driving toward Yosemite National Park, thinking of my crazy journey, which I didn’t expect to unfold this way. The drive to Yosemite was 5 hours and 41 minutes. I stopped in Red Bluff for gas and snacks, then kept driving. I was in Sacramento around 6:33 p.m. with the sunset.

I almost stopped and got a hotel for the night, but I’m glad I decided to keep driving to get as close to Yosemite as possible. I liked almost everything about California, except its traffic and drivers’ behavior. I do not wish to live in a city with such horrible traffic.

I arrived at the Groveland Motel in the town of Groveland, just an hour away from Yosemite Valley. I was very glad I was able to get a place. The motel was low-rated; the old lady told me to check the room first, which was unusual. It was old, stinky, and not very clean, but I was tired (well, very tired), and it was 9 p.m. I needed rest. I took the room, showered, ate some snacks since all restaurants were closed, and decided to sleep, and yes, I slept in my sleeping bag instead of using this stinky place’s covers.

The drive from Copperopolis to Groveland was very tiring; it was mainly uphill in the mountains, and there was an Amazon truck barely moving. I was out of patience. There was no connection for music or even radio. But overall, it was a day to be very thankful for… cheers. 

Redwood National and State Parks; September 30, 2025

I would like to believe that I had a good night of sleep, although recently it has been difficult to slow down my mind. The night was quiet beneath these giant trees, and a light rain fell for hours. Camping in Redwood National Park brings a mix of emotions: a feeling of being small and insignificant beside towering trunks, yet also a profound sense of peace. It offers connection to the natural world, wonder, and the sensation of stepping into another realm while breathing some of the cleanest air on Earth. One day and one night already felt like a gift.

I made coffee around 8:00 a.m. and drove to my first destination, the Stout Grove trailhead (1.55 miles hike). My initial impressions of the redwoods left me almost speechless. These trees appear like ancient guardians standing watch over the forest. The hike was beautiful. I attempted to cross a river to reach the other side because my GPS made it look possible, but once I left the trail, I nearly got lost. I quickly returned to the path and concluded that this trail was misleading.

There was another route across the Smith River that continued toward the Little Bald Hills Trailhead and the town of Hiouchi. Instead, I continued to my next hike after I drove for a few minutes: the Grove of Titans (2.36 miles). This hike was astonishing. I felt incredibly lucky breathing this forest air at the heart of one of the most remarkable ecosystems sustaining life on Earth. The trail connects back to Stout Grove, although I chose to limit myself to the 2.36 miles because there was much more to see.

My longest hike of the day was the Boy Scout Tree Trail, a 6-mile route leading to Fern Falls. The forest felt impossibly vast, and the scale made me feel very small. Roots twisted everywhere. The experience brought awe, tranquility, and perspective. The filtered light through the canopy, the lush greenery, the silence: it felt like a different world. I reached the falls around 11:20 a.m. and spent time resting there. The waterfall was small, more of a thin curtain of water than a dramatic drop, yet it was beautiful in its simplicity. I met a few hikers, refilled my water bottle, and hiked back to the parking lot. Rain fell during the last mile and a half, adding drama and beauty to the landscape. I saw mushrooms, wildflowers, endless ferns, and evidence of nature’s deep interconnectedness. My conclusion: “I respect the ground that holds these giant trees and everything else.”

I reached the parking area at 12:30 p.m. in heavy rain. With no phone connection and uncertain directions, I drove several miles on a narrow, unpaved, single-lane road before stopping to study my map. The redwood park can be very confusing. Eventually, I decided to head to the Big Tree Wayside area. Although my hiking for the day was complete, I still wanted to explore with the remaining time.

The drive from Boy Scout Tree Trailhead to Big Tree Wayside took about 56 minutes, with incredible ocean views. The route included several potential stop points:

• Damnation Creek Trailhead
• Yurok Loop Trail
• Trees of Mystery
• Klamath River Overlook

I skipped these to stay on schedule, although one day in this region is not nearly enough. At Big Tree, I walked only about half a mile. The big tree is estimated to be 1,500 years old, 286 feet tall, and 68 feet in circumference.

 In the parking lot, I spoke with a couple who asked where I was from. I told them Nebraska. I mentioned how immense the park is and how much there is to do. They recommended the Lady Bird Johnson Grove Trail (1.75-mile hike). I already planned to do it, but had been hesitant. Their encouragement convinced me. They warned me about the narrow road leading up to the trailhead. 

I stopped briefly at the Prairie Creek Visitor Center on the way. It was crowded. I grabbed a map and drove on. I reached the trailhead at 2:16 p.m. The hike was relatively easy. I watched a group of hikers quietly observing some deer nearby and joined them for a moment before continuing. I returned to my car around 3:00 p.m. It has been such a struggle with my SE iPhone trying to take good photos of these giant trees. But my other phone, which had 3 cameras, had better shots, and it captured more angles

At this point, exhaustion set in. My next destination was Lassen Volcanic National Park, nearly four and a half hours away. I searched for a campground along the route and found Clam Beach County Campground. It was first-come, first-served. I arrived around 4:00 p.m. The campground was not calm at all, located right beside Highway 101. After walking a mile along the beach, I decided to seek a hotel or Airbnb. It had been a long day, it was raining, and I wanted to treat myself.

I found an Airstream camper in the town of Manila, right by the ocean, with excellent reviews. I arrived at 5:00 p.m. and reorganized my messy car, took a shower, ate snacks, and walked 1.62 miles to the beach through the breath taking view of the sand dunes; and the rainbow that's emerged with the ocean and sunset view. I think this was one of best I've seen in life. 

The shower was small: I could stand comfortably but barely move. It reminded me of a bathroom in Switzerland that allowed movement but required bending due to the low ceiling.

The beach provided one of my favorite moments of the year. There were no other people, only ocean waves, birds, coastal plants, and the calming colors of sunset. It was peace and reflection. Before dark, I returned to the Airbnb, then drove to the Vista Del Mar restaurant in Eureka across the Samoa Bridge, about nine minutes away. I felt everyone at the restaurant knew each other; so many laughs and so much talk. I enjoyed a beer and a chicken sandwich. While driving over the bridge, which is basically over the ocean, reminded me of some of the European and WW2 movies, including the Dunkirk movie, ocean waves, rain, wind, little lights, and so remote. Manila is certainly a beautiful little town. 

I returned to the cozy Airbnb around 9:00 p.m., grateful for the day and hopeful for a good night of sleep.

 

Crater Lake National Park; September 29, 2025

Throughout the night, I didn’t sleep well. There was some cold air getting into my sleeping bag, but I was too lazy and too tired to look into it. Somehow, it was already 7 AM. I woke up, packed my tent, made coffee, and headed to my first destination in Crater Lake National Park: the Garfield Peak Trailhead.

As I started driving toward Crater Lake Lodge, where the trail begins, I noticed the weather was completely foggy, and the visibility was minimal. When I arrived at the lodge parking lot, it was full of cars but strangely no people; it seemed like everyone was still asleep. A few others who had just arrived were wandering around, trying to decide what to do because the lake was nowhere to be seen through the thick fog.

I walked around, hoping for a view… still no lake. On top of the fog making everything invisible, it was extremely cold and windy. I decided to pull myself together and start the hike anyway. I brought my coffee with me; at this point, my brain is officially addicted.

After about a mile of hiking, I finally started seeing parts of the lake, but only in brief moments when the fog waves moved. Even though a clear sky would’ve been nice, this wild, foggy weather felt refreshing and energetic. The fall colors were definitely showing, and I took so many photos of the beautiful trees and scenery.

I reached the top of Garfield Peak after about two miles, and honestly… I was disappointed. I was hoping things would clear up higher, but I guess I haven’t experienced this much fog before. The entire lake was still covered by thick fog waves that looked like ocean tides, beautiful, but freezing and windy.

I took my time there anyway and enjoyed the uniqueness of the moment. On the way back down, I met two hikers, the only two people I have seen on the whole trail so far. When I returned to the lodge area around 9:30 AM, people from the lodge seemed to be just waking up, standing on the balcony with their coffee mugs, looking at the shifting weather.

I decided to hike along the Discovery Point Trailhead. By that time, the park was much busier. The fog still came and went, revealing the lake one moment and hiding it the next. My hike 1^st of the day totaled 5.02 miles. My next stop was the Watchman Peak Trailhead, a steep two-mile round-trip hike. The view from the Watchman Observation Station was incredible and totally worth the climb. It felt like nature was putting on a show, the lake appearing and disappearing with every wave of fog. I spent about 20 minutes up there taking time-lapse videos. I had trouble stabilizing my phone; yes, I still need that phone holder I keep saying I’ll buy. For now, rocks and sticks are my tripod. 😏

By the time I got back to the parking lot, it was almost 11 AM.

Next, I drove to the Cleetwood Cove Trail, the only trail that takes you all the way down to the lake and the Wizard Island boat dock. I stopped briefly at Merriam Point on the way. The hike reminded me of Yellowstone Falls, very steep down and then very steep up. As I descended, my left knee started bothering me again. For some reason, it only hurts going down, not up; something I can’t afford to have.

The trail was busy, and the lake was finally visible. The weather was still foggy but constantly changing, absolutely gorgeous.

When I reached the lake, I spent about 30 minutes there and met a 73-year-old man named Tom, from a small town in Oregon about two hours away. We had a great conversation. I told him about my plan to visit 13 national parks in two weeks. He laughed and said, “Oh, you’re doing it like Americans visiting 10 cities in one week in Europe.” I didn’t know that 😌😁

We also talked about the reduction of funding for national parks; irresponsible and sad. He said, “But we didn’t vote for Trump as a state,” joking but also serious. He mentioned that next year, access to the lake via the Cleetwood Cove Trail will be closed until 2029, along with other park areas for major renovation.

Tom works in woodcraft, and since he left his phone in his car, I offered to take his photo and email it to him. He gave me his business card. We shook hands, and I started the steep hike back up.

When I arrived at the parking lot, I changed into dry clothes, ate some snacks, and began driving the Rim Drive exit route, a scenic road that circles the lake (closed in winter). I stopped at a few viewpoints, but the weather on the other side of the park was terrible, visibility was almost zero, and traffic was very slow.

I made it back to Mazama Village around 1 PM. Since there were no connections, I went to the market to use their WiFi so I could set my GPS to my next destination: Redwood National and State Parks, 3 hours and 18 minutes away.

I drove through endless forest, heavy rain, and had no phone service for at least two hours. I listened to NPR, and the news was all about the government shutdown, which made me wonder if national parks would stay open.

I stopped at Figaro’s Pizza in Gold Hill, Oregon. I was starving. I’ve always heard Oregon is beautiful, and I couldn’t agree more. The state is stunning, with great infrastructure and perfect weather. I loved it.

The restaurant was quiet. The owner was extremely nice. The space was decorated with astronomy photos and high-school sports pictures. The vibe was great, even the rock music playing from the TV on an Amazon account. One song in particular caught my attention: “Shakedown Street.” I guess I’m into classic rock music now.

I asked about the astronomy photos, and he said they were from a local artist who came in to set them up. I left with such a positive feeling. Then I tried a local ATM because I needed cash for camping. The ATM wasn’t working, but the manager came out and helped me get cash. I was so thankful.

I entered California at 5:18 PM. I was surprised by the checkpoint; they asked if I had any fruit or vegetables. I said I have a few apples. “You’re good to go,” he said. I later learned California has agricultural checkpoints to prevent invasive pests and diseases, something I didn’t know since this was my first time driving into the state.

I arrived at Redwood National and State Parks around 6 PM. It was getting dark, so I rushed to the Jedediah Smith Campground in the middle of the forest, with giant redwoods and river access, extremely quiet. I drove around hoping to find a spot, but no luck; everything looked reserved. Some sites were empty but still reserved. The camp host sign said, “off duty,” and I was getting worried, the darkness, the fatigue, and this incredibly beautiful place… I really didn’t want to leave to go somewhere else.

I kept searching and found another camp host on the opposite side, a big RV with beautiful lights. The sign said: “If you need a campsite, please ring the bell.”

I rang it. A lady came out; she was watching TV. She said, “We have at least ten sites available.” I said, “I’ll take whatever.” She also helped me with some change for the fee. I was really thankful.

Now I have to find my car, which took me a while; the campground was all loops and very confusing.

Finally, I drove to my site, set up my tent, made some food, and felt so grateful to camp in such a beautiful place. The bathrooms and showers were very clean and organized, which is rare to find, but I was very impressed with the shower quarter operating system.

Back in my tent, grateful for another day, and hoping for some sleep.