Hike Mt. Shasta

It’s New Year’s Eve and 2020 is finally coming to an end. The year ended quietly in the Hike Mt Shasta household, with snowshoeing, skiing, much merry making and lots of sunrise and sunset chasing. It has been a beautiful week since Christmas and I was able to get out on multiple occasions to imbibe the beauty. It ended with a fresh layer of snow and a beautiful sunrise and sunset. While the year was crazy in so many ways for so many people, it is satisfying to finish it quietly watching the color fade from the snow flanks of Mount Shasta. That said, I would like to review a few images from the week:

The moon has been rising in the vicinity of Mount Shasta. I never seemed to be able to time its breaking the horizon with my being in a position to photograph it but I did enjoy views of the mountain in near proximity. The warm light of sunset contrasting against the silvery moon is always a glorious sight.

I went out to the Shasta Valley on Tuesday to capture the sunset and while the color built up in the sky around Mount Shasta, I found my eyes drawn to the massive fires building up on Willow Creek Mountain. Though plumes marked the locations of the fires, the dancing flames were visible to the naked eye. Through my telephoto lens, they looked fearsome, especially after the year of the inferno that was 2020. Fortunately these were controlled fires burning slash. It is still disconcerting to see from afar.
In spite of the flames, I still managed to look at the mountain around me:

The light on Mount Shasta was not great but the glow over the entire Shasta Valley was beautiful and eerie. I love the winter view of the mountains on all sides of the valley, crowned by the snowy majesty of Mount Shasta.

The next day featured a large “lenticulish” cloud that was heralding a shifting weather pattern and the onset of more snow. This set up a what proved to be a beautiful sunrise on the final day of 2020.

The glow on the billowing snow was sublime and the mountain seemed to glow to be exhaling powdery plumes with each breath, only to see them alight by the rising sun. It was a magical morning and the snowy scenery only added enchantment:

I kept an eye on the weather all day and eventually slipped out for a quick look at the sunset. The sky had become overcast, so the potential for color was significantly diminished. Nonetheless, Mount Shasta managed to brew up something interesting and make the sunset beautiful.

In the end, 2020 ended with a subdued but lovely sunset. Something makes me think 2021 is going to start off with a bang. I am excited to see what lies ahead!

The one thing about fall that I really don’t like is the days getting noticeably shorter. After the summer solstice they shorten but are still long enough that it does not seem to change life much  but in the fall the length of day is so brief it alters how and when we do things. I do enjoy the low angle light and the ease of capturing the sunset since it comes so early. Thankfully, having reached the winter solstice, this trend now reverses itself and the days grow longer. It will take a while for this to manifest but psychologically, the relief has come.

The idea occurred to me to head out and capture the sunrise and sunset of the shortest day of the year. After the last three days lenticular activity it seemed like I might be able to catch something interesting. I was up early as usual for the sunrise but there wasn’t a cloud anywhere near Mount Shasta. I still set up just outside of town and watched the flecks of color show up on the crags of ridges of the mountain. On the western side of Mount Shasta, the first light only lights up those point protruding out far enough that the east face does not block all the light.

It wasn’t the greatest scene for my solstice effort but it would have to do. It almost seemed as if the weather was simply exhausted after its efforts over the last three days. Interesting, wavy clouds sailed through all day but by the time it was sunset, the sky had cleared out once again and it was empty over Mount Shasta. I went back to the same spot duplicated the perspective. At least if there was symmetry in the sky, there might as well be symmetry in images of the mountain.

The day may have  been over but the real spectacle had not yet come. Like many others, my family and I went out to view the “Christmas star”, the grand conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn. Their orbits, as well as earth’s position brought the two giant planets into extreme proximity in the western sky. Some have argued that this may have been the star seen by the Magi since the conjunction tends to occur around Christmas. This is incorrect both astronomically (rewinding the planets mathematically shows the conjunction would not have been that close during the reign of Augustus) and theologically. Nonetheless, it is a pretty awesome event to witness.

I set up my camera up on the slopes of Mount Shasta and, to my surprise, was able to see the four Galilean moons of Jupiter through my telephoto lens!

Saturn is on the right, Jupiter the left. The Galilean moons, Europa, Io, Callista and Ganymede are the dots on an oblique plane. Europa is hardest to see and lowest in relation to Jupiter.

My wife and I enjoyed the view for quite a while though my kids’ interest faded quickly and they played in the snow, in the dark, in the cold. As we looked both through the view finder and the naked eye, I noticed that my camera was able to peak up distant peaks in the Trinity Alps despite the light being almost completely faded. Sawtooth Peak and Mount Hilton both show up in the images I was taking! In the end, we finally packed up and headed home for eggnog and cookies. That interested the kids even more.

Jupiter and Saturn seen over the Trinity Divide. The high peaks of the Trinity Alps are visible on the horizon directly below the planets.

Though not the “Christmas star”, it was an awe-inspiring celestial vision and makes me ponder what it may have been like for the Magi following the star to Bethlehem. The wonder of seeing a unique phenomena in the heavens and questing after it was at least hinted at tonight, if only lightly. It’s not even Christmas yet and it has already been a great Christmas this year!

Friday morning I was up early to continue my quest for a sunrise lenticular. Though the season has thus far continued to underwhelm, I remain optimistic that things will improve and the mountain will finally yield a really epic display. I’d love for it to happen soon, since this seems to have overtaken any other subject I write about. One can hope.

When I awoke it was still dark, but I could tell there were clouds. The occasional blackness where there should be stars was enough to alert me to the fact that I might want to be out for the sunrise. I headed towards town, noting that a small wispy lenticular was flowing across the summit of Mount Shasta. With these kinds of clouds, it is sometimes best to head toward a side that catches early morning light. This means the east, south or southwest. In this case, I only made it as far as town before I decided to catch the sunrise from there. It turned out to be a gorgeous morning with lots of warm light glowing on Mount Shasta and lighting up the Trinity Divide.

Though it was small, there was a notable lenticular floating to the southwest of Mount Shasta. It was too far out of way to get it in a decent image with Mount Shasta so I decided to head north. Though the mountain would still be in shadow, I might be able to catch an interesting perspective. Unfortunately the floating lenticular fluctuated in size too much to get an good shot at it. In spite of this, view from the north side of Mount Shasta was fantastic. The Shasta Valley, falling away to the north, was shrouded in fog while the peaks above it, including Cottonwood Peak and Oregon landmarks like Mount Ashland, Pilot Rock and Mount McLoughlin, were all glowing with pink light. Turning back to Mount Shasta, the small wisp still streamed from the summit of the mountain. It might not have been what I had hoped for once again but the morning was grand and I had no complaints.

I kept an eye on the floating lenticular all day. It remained for most of the day and, come afternoon, I headed out to see what it might do. Maybe this would finally be the sunset that illuminated a large lenticular.

In the end, it was a near miss. Mount Shasta was grand as always but the lenticular just could not hold on until sunset. It may have been a near miss but it was a most magnificent one. I remain optimistic that the time is soon when conditions will hold and my quest will finally come to an end!

The problem with this time of year is that something interesting can happen in the sky above Mount Shasta on any given morning. During the summer, the weather is more stable and the sky lacks interest. However, in the fall and winter there is always the possibility of a lenticular or some other interesting event that will make a great image. I am loath to let such a scene get by and since I tend to be an early riser and like the solitude of the morning, it has become something of a habit during the fall and winter to get up early, check the conditions outside and see if I am going to head out and try to capture something. That certainly has been my pattern of activity the last few weeks. If it is not precipitating, I have frequently found myself gallivanting around the mountain, looking for an angle on something going in the sky.

This week has seen me out running around on three mornings, though only two yielded anything interesting. Monday was the first day I was able to get out and check the conditions. It elevations  just a few hundred feet higher than in town it had snowed several inches, which meant that the morning was quite beautiful and wintry. While there were no great clouds, the fresh snow and the morning light still made for a very satisfying morning. It would certainly be nice to get more like this!

Tuesday proved to be less attractive. The forecast was such that it looked like interesting weather might yield something noteworthy around Mount Shasta. In fact, it was just simply overcast, with the clouds stick around at 9,000 feet. Recognizing that I wasn’t going to get anything, I went home and continued on with my day. It precipitated during the day but by afternoon it had cleared. On my way home from teaching a class (not a teacher professionally but I do teach one class each week) I stopped and pulled out my camera for sunset. I am always shocked at how the sky around the mountain can go from rain and snow to completely clear in just a matter of minutes. This certainly proved to be the case on Tuesday.

Wednesday morning things finally looked like it might get interesting. Looking at where the clouds were located, I decided to head to the south. This time of year, the south side of Mount Shasta gets the direct morning light and it can yield great sunrise images. Unfortunately, it can also be a bit of a frustrating endeavor to find good vantage points without the trees getting in the way. I went to one of my trusty locations and was delighted when the sky erupted in pink and purple light.

Interestingly, there was no direct light on the mountain. Instead, Mount Shasta glowed with the light reflected off the clouds that swirled about the peak. It was quite a stunning sight. Soon, the whole sky was lit up, while Mount Shasta continued to glow. However, clouds began to coalesce around it, partially blocking it from view.

Soon the clouds threatened to overtake Mount Shasta completely. However, the sun had, by this time, risen high enough for the mountain to receive sunlight directly. Spots of orange cliffs broke through the gray cloud. It was an unusually and interesting perspective.

In the end, this week has still failed to deliver a lenticular. This entire season has proven to be very underwhelming in terms of witnessing these unique and spectacular events. However, it is good to be reminded that Mount Shasta is more than a catalyst for these strange clouds. It is a grand and magnificent mountain all by itself and observing it in its glory it is a privilege, with or without interesting clouds.

This has been a very strange autumn here in Mount Shasta. Typically, October and November are some of the most productive months for lenticulars and when the strange clouds are not about, the sky above the mountain is frequently aglow with bright colors and other cloud formations. This year, this has not been the case. There have been a few scattered lenticulars and some colorful skies but nothing that compares to years past. The same was once again true Wednesday morning. I have been heading out early in the morning when the weather has given some indication that there might be something interesting in the sky. I am an early riser naturally and I have always liked the drowsy solitude of the world before the sun cracks the horizon, so getting outside to catch a sunrise is both easy and a delight. This was once again true Wednesday.

The forecast had called for clouds, so I thought there might be something interesting to see. I headed north but as the sun began illuminate the low, eastern sky, it was obvious that the clouds were too low to the deck to be much good. Moreover, they looked to be blocking the view of the mountain. However, it seemed like the sky was clear just past Black Butte, and the clouds were just hovering to the north of Mount Shasta. I turned around and headed back south. I got just past Black Butte when the sky at once cleared and was bathed in pink light. I hopped out and got a dramatic shot of Black Butte holding back the clouds.

North of Black Butte, the clouds were thick and little light pierced through the gloom.

Mount Shasta, however, was only partially visible. The clouds smothering the Shasta Valley were sending tendrils past the mountain, threatening to overtake the volcano with increasing strength. Seemingly fitting for the mountain’s stature, it was the only bit of terrain, other than the partially submerged Black Butte, that was not overtaken by clouds. Both Mount Eddy and the high peaks of the Castle Crags Wilderness (Castle Lake area) were all lost in a thick vapory blanket. However, these were alight with the rising sun and glowed with a great radiance that seemed to fill the air with more pink light. The entire area was a gorgeous symphony of color, one that was too grand for me to hope to capture it in images.

Glowing clouds sail past Mount Shasta.

As I looked around, bits of the clouds sailed past Mount Shasta with great speed. It was obvious that any view of the icy giant was going to be fleeting. I could see pink clouds racing overhead, breaking off of the great sheet that covered the Shasta Valley and flying off to the south, spiraling and turning as the flew.

Finally, as I watched the clouds gather strength, they enveloped Mount Shasta and most of the mountain finally fell out of view.

Mount Shasta finally succumbs.

It was a beautiful morning. I felt that I ought to have been frustrated by it and the lack of great images. However, though it had been too great and too fleeting to document with my camera, I was more pleased than disheartened. Not all sights must make great images. Sometimes, the joy is in the seeing, the experience and the moment than the memento I can look back on to revisit the wonder and beauty. At least, this is what I tell myself. Perhaps I am satisfied with being able to use these sights as grist for my writing habit. Not much else I do these days elicits much of a muse in me. Thus, I am, in the end, grateful to be inspired to write something, which I enjoy not as much as photographing a beautiful sunrise but more than many other things I must spend my time on.

In the end, Mount Shasta reemerged from the clouds, but the sky itself became gray and dreary all day. It was a good day to educate my kids and split firewood. I kept an eye on the mountain though, hoping that the setting sun might give it one last burst of light. In the end I was rewarded for my perseverance. The clouds cleared and the mountain put forth a fantastic evening glow. It was grand and fleeting and then the sun sank so far beyond the horizon that all color faded from the mountain…until tomorrow morning. We’ll see if I am at it again.

A brief but beautiful sunset on Mount Shasta.

Today was kind of an odd one. It began with a fiery sunrise and ended with a fiery sunset of an unexpected and completely different kind.

It started out early. I knew there were going to be clouds this morning, so I headed out before dawn. The position of the clouds said I go north, so north into the Shasta Valley I went. Soon I found myself watching the color creep into the sky over Mount Shasta while listening to the racing water from Little Springs. It was a beautiful morning, with clouds lit aflame by the sun before it broke the eastern horizon. Soon I moved a little further west, and let some old snags cast twisted silhouettes into the burning sky. Between the sound of the water, the colorful sky and the beautiful mountain all touched by a gentle breeze, mornings don’t get too much more satisfying than that.

The first light of day sets Little Springs aglow. 

Snags make interesting shadows against the orange sky.

By the middle of the day, a stringy lenticular had formed over the mountain, but I was otherwise occupied and couldn’t dash out to capture it (I know, I know). Unfortunately it dissipated in the afternoon but there just enough clouds to head out and see if anything interesting might happen at sunset.

Too my surprise, it was not the sky that ultimately drew my eye. As I went north, I saw a pillar of smoke in a place that seemed both odd and strangely near. Heading over to check it out, I saw massive tongues of fire spreading across a brushy field. Just as I arrived there, the clouds broke and Mount Shasta was bathed in pink light as the sun was setting. The flames were disconcertingly large and looked almost out of control.

Some of the fires burning across a field. There was another large cluster of flames about 50 yards to the south.

Fortunately, I could see people moving about and bulldozers pushing things into piles. It was quickly evident that the fire was a controlled burn. I must confess, it looked like the most out of control controlled burn I have ever seen. In these days of dry forests and parched fields, it is disconcerting to happen across fire like this, at least when it is large enough to appear wild. Fortunately these were not and bulldozers are handy things to have around when working with fire.

A dramatic and fiery end to the day.

I decided to capture some images of Mount Shasta, though conditions were frustrating since the hot air made it very difficult to focus on Mount Shasta. In spite of this, I got some interesting images to memorialize an unusual and fiery end to another day at the foot of the mountain.

Mount Shasta alight at dawn while fog covers the Strawberry Valley.

A couple of days ago I posted some images I had taken during a morning trip up to Bunny Flat along with a shot of late afternoon around the mountain. It has seemed like an age since I have been deliberate about getting up early to go out and check the conditions around the mountain or to watch closely what the sky was doing as sunset approached. I don’t know if I just grew lethargic or disengaged or something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. I wrote back at the end of September that I was coming back to the mountain after feeling detached for a long time. However, with the trip to Arizona and other events on the home front, I never got back into my rhythm.

However, with winter weather now setting in, I feel like I am emerging from hibernation and finally getting into my usual sunrise/sunset pattern. Case in point being Thursday morning. Once again, I was up early and out the door long before the sun was up. The payoff was a beautiful sunrise around Mount Shasta. I din’t get a lot of gorgeous images but getting back out at dawn, with with its companion silence broken only by the lonely mountain wind blowing, was invigorating. I feel like I am finally getting back in gear just in time for the winter weather.

The rest of the day, Mount Shasta was covered by clouds, though the rest of the sky was blue. In the afternoon I took the kids to the Sacramento River to play on the rocks. The river level has gone up considerably and some of their favorite rocks weren’t as easily accessible. Nonetheless, they had a good time as always, hopping on the rocks, crisscrossing the river and racing bark boats. I spent my time watching them, reading and catching an occasional image when Mount Shasta peaked out from behind the clouds.

As we headed back home it seemed the clouds had cleared on the north side of the mountain so I popped up into the Shasta Valley to catch the sunset. My kids know the drill, so they played out in the fields, climbed rocks and continued to have fun in the open country. It’s pretty amazing they can go from scrambling on rocks in a mountain river frolicking in high desert fields in a matter of minutes, all within sight of the great mountain. In the end, sunset finally came and we then headed home.

I was up again early this morning but without a cloud in the sky, I decided to stay home and write this post instead. Looking at the forecast, there is some interesting weather in the offing. I think I will continue to pursue it and the mountain.