Mount Shasta

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Hiking Northern California – 10 Years Later

Posted by bubbasuess on September 30, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Hiking, Mount Shasta, Sierra Nevada, Yosemite. Leave a comment

The Cloudripper lacerates a cloudless Sierra Nevada sky.

It is hard for me to believe that this summer marks 10 years since I did all the work that produced my book Hiking Northern California. That year was one of the best of my life and, in terms of outdoor adventure, it was by far the best year of my life. From March to October, I spent a significant chunk of each month (often 2 weeks each month!) on the trail, hiking up and down the state. The number of miles I put on, the sights seen, the majesty witnessed and the adventures had stamped that summer with a special memorial quality. Never again will I have that kind of opportunity or freedom or see that much land by trail again. It was pure magic.

In terms of the book written, it is my opus. It was my goal that if someone who will never set foot in California were to pick the book up and read it, they would experience that state’s unsurpassed beauty and diversity in both word and image and perhaps perceive a little of the wonder that permeates the Golden State’s natural landscape. I think I accomplished that goal to some degree. The result (at least, this is what  I am hoping) is a hiking guide that is a journey in the mind, not just afoot and not just a simple “go here, turn there” type endeavor. I wanted it to be something more. Add to that the quality of the images and maps and the general layout of the book, I think the final product is unsurpassed in the hiking guide world. At least I think so, but I guess I am a bit biased.

This anniversary seems like a fitting time to look back at some of the hikes I did for the book. It was a great year and hard to believe I was blessed with the opportunity. Maybe it is strange, but I feel a certain pride of privilege in being able to write about places like Yosemite in a published work, even if it is just a hiking guide. I hope that the book, even just a hiking guide, found its way to someone, somewhere and they were blessed by it.

March:

Things started off slow and I stuck mostly to the coast in March. While the mountains of the state are buried in snow, the coast is a prime destination. While Alamere Falls is my favorite hike of this section, the hike around Mount Diablo is the most memorable on this occasion. It was the first hike of the book I completed and a perfect day with absolutely astounding vistas.

April:

April was much more adventurous. It included a trip down to Big Sur, which was great because my brother was living down in Carmel at the time. Not only was I able to stay with him but some of his kids joined me on hikes, which was a real treat. While Big Basin Redwoods was my favorite hike (a trail now forever altered forever by the CZU fire in 202o, though it is making a remarkable recovery!), the loop through the Pinnacles was the most memorable due to running into a stubborn flock of California condors and being able to see them up very, very close.

May:

While I was itching to get up into the mountains, life took me to other parts of the state. This was good, because I needed to check off some trails in some out-of-the-way places. Of this assortment of hikes, by far the most memorable was the San Joaquin River Gorge. That is a tale that bears reminiscing.

My wife and I had to head to parts of California that I need to hike trails in. While most of these were in the redwoods, one of them was down by Fresno. We were there for a wedding but I wanted to include the San Joaquin Gorge as a good Sierra foothill hike. We had our three kids with us, including my youngest, who was 1 at the time. It was in the mid 90’s and, while my wife is absolutely game to hike, the three kids were not. So, since the trailhead was extremely well shaded, we decided they would stay there, have lunch, play and possibly nap. I was going to charge through the 7 miles of the hike to get back to them as quickly as possible. I made sure they had everything they needed, including much water and I hit the trail. It was only when I was several miles into the hike that I realized that, in making sure my family had all they needed, I had left my water with them. Fortunately, I had a half full 20oz bottle of water left over in my backpack from a previous hike. This was an absolute grace and I was able to nurse it all the way through the loop of the lollipop.

When I reached the bridge over the San Joaquin, I was relieved. I felt good and it meant I only had one mile left to go back to my family. One mile and 300 hundred feet of elevation gain. I had flown down this section of trail at the beginning. In celebration, I drank what was left of my water in one gulp. I made it about 50 up the trail when suddenly I bonked (or the dehydration version of it). That last mile now felt insurmountable. I honestly have no idea how long it took me to hike that last mile, but it was accomplished by means of the “one inch shuffle”. When I finally staggered, slow-motion, back to the trailhead, I called out to my wife but it only came out a near-silent wheeze. She finally saw me and was relieved. Thankfully, she took tender care of her enfeebled husband and we all rejoiced that the now infamous San Joaquin Death March was over (although, I rejoiced silently).

June:

I made two trips in June. The first was around the Lassen area, hitting some great hikes through the lesser traveled, eastern part of the park. The Cinder Cone and Painted Dunes are still one of my favorite parts of the Cascades. It was while hiking the Biz Johnson Trail and wearing what proved to be the wrong socks very cavalierly that I got horrific blisters. They were so bad I had to seriously upgrade my first aide kit with a variety of blister solutions and carefully manage my feet the rest of the year.

The second trip was down to the Sierra Nevada (finally!) for the first time that summer. I drove down to Kings Canyon and Sequoia and then worked my way north through the Sierra, spending considerable time around Tahoe and the far northern reaches of the range. It was made more memorable by having my parents join me in Sequoia National Park. My parents were lifelong Yosemite hikers (84/83 and still camping for a week in the valley in 2026!) but they had never made it to SEKI. However, my favorite hike was Hetch Hetchy. The falls were so full it really couldn’t be beat!

July:

July was one of the best months of the year. I hit the Sierra Nevada hard. Aside from my family’s annual week in Yosemite (which included a stop in Lundy Canyon), I sojourned around Tahoe and the central Sierra. While Tahoe is magical, I find the central Sierra particularly alluring. As you move south through the range, it has the first large wilderness area, which gives at a sense of vastness not found in the Tahoe Sierra and further north. It also has a really unique geology, with the classic Sierra granite overlain by volcanic mudflows. At once strange but also classic. The relative lack of people up there is also a treat. I also made the first foray into the High Sierra. Oh yeah, I also hiked a bunch on Mount Shasta.

August:

The High Sierra beckoned in August. This was pretty tough to beat. I worked my way down a few destinations accessed from the west before cruising over Tehachapi Pass and then winding back north along the Eastern Sierra. The best part was the three day trifecta of hiking Little Lakes Valley, Thousand Island Lake and the Gaylor Lakes in Yosemite with my brother. If I had to pick a best part of the whole summer, that was it. Unbeatable scenery with unbeatable company. We covered a lot of ground and laughed the whole way. Life is good.

September:

With summer winding down and autumn starting to set in, I had one last trip I needed to get done and it was a grand way to end a magical summer. I summited Lassen Peak on my way south and then started a string of classic High Sierra hikes. My favorite was the Cloudripper loop but I think the most memorable moment came when I was sitting on Kearsarge Pass and a backcountry ranger stopped for a break while at the pass’s grand vista. She lamented having left her blister kit back home and she was setting out for a week of patrolling the John Muir Trail. I gladly tossed her my extensive and carefully curated blister first aid kit. She thankfully accepted it and headed out for Vidette Meadow. Passing off that particular bit of gear was a sort of farewell to arms, marking the final hike of the summer. I went back to Lone Pine and got a pizza. The next morning I scrambled all over the Alabama Hills and then headed back to Mount Shasta. What an epic, glorious summer.

October:

Almost as an afterthought, I hiked to Devil’s Punchbowl in the Siskiyou Wilderness. The fall color had already set in and it was a bit rainy but a beautiful hike in a remote and spectacular area. It was the final hike I did for the book. Now the fun was over and I actually had to write the thing. A thesaurus at my side, I actually knocked the writing out with ease. With a muse like the summer that I had just lived, how could it not.

Hopefully, somehow, someway, the book has blessed someone. It almost feels selfish to have taken the opportunity given me. My wife was ever-patient and supportive. In her and for that, I am most grateful.  It was a blessing for myself. The experiences I had, the vistas I enjoyed and the glory I beheld continue to edify me.

Autumn Has Arrived

Posted by bubbasuess on September 26, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Lenticular Clouds, Mount Shasta, Shasta Valley, sunset, Truchas Ridge. 6 Comments

Autumn has been my favorite season for a long time. The color, the warm angle of the light and the propensity to produce massive lenticulars are all part of the magic that this season brings. While there us only a hint of leaves beginning to change, the light has been getting better for a week or so now. And then, of course, fall had to announce its arrival with a massive lenticular. It was great.

The first day of autumn blessed the world with a gorgeous sunset. I was out a Truchas Ridge and was able to hike out to Panorama Point for the last hour of light. Earlier in the afternoon there had been a beautiful, massive non-lenticular cloud hanging over Mount Shasta and I was hoping to get it at sunset. Though this cloud had moved on by the time the light got good, the sunset was still fantastic. The presence of the moon hanging over the mountain just made it even better. It was a solid start to the fall season.

A couple of days later, the lenticular arrived. It was windy all day and the cloud seemed remarkably stable, just hanging over the mountain in spite of all the atmospheric turbulence. I stopped a couple of times to capture the cloud, especially in the afternoon light. Lenticular clouds are unusual formations and both in constant flux and very unpredictable. Despite that Heraclitan proclivity, I have noticed a certain series of patterns that frequently develop with the clouds. One of them is the frequent development of stack formations coalescing to the northeast of Mount Shasta. By no means is this the only place they form, but I can go through my catalogue of lenticular images and there is a marked tendency for them to occur in the same location. I would be fascinated to get some sort of map of the air currents and the physical geography that show why the clouds like to form in the spot.

I knew the sunset had real potential, so I had to head back out to the ridge again. Once out there, the lenticular stack was partially obscured by some other clouds. Other clouds had formed, both over Mount Shasta but also over Deer Mountain and Sheep Rock. The wind was incredible but the light was marvelous. Overall, the entire scene was great.

To the east, the the light got particularly interesting. The lenticulars were well lit but the sky remained dark. Bands of light gashed across the floor of the Shasta Valley and the cliffs of Sheep Rock. As the sun sank the light traveled upwards, eventually falling off the mountains entirely. The wind was so intense, it almost felt like it was buffeting me and moving the light at the same time.

Eventually the light faded away entirely, never really giving me the colors I had hoped for. However, almost as if in consolation, the moon popped out from the clouds for a brief moment before just as quickly disappearing behind the lenticular stack.

Autumn has begun in Mount Shasta. I am grateful to be here to witness it another year.

Snow Starts Semptember

Posted by bubbasuess on September 7, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Mount Shasta, Shasta Valley, Truchas Ridge. 1 Comment

A beautiful but dry summer sunset at Echo Point.

The summer of 2026 was one of the driest I can remember. Typically, we get a few thunderstorms sprinkled around the summer, breaking the high pressure system and bringing welcome relief as it cools the high pressure’s hot temperatures. This year we only had one thunderstorm of note and while it brought some fantastic images of Mount Shasta, it was short, its relief appreciated but scant and it was followed by nothing but high temperatures for almost two months.

That pattern finally came to an end at the beginning of September. There was not thunder and lightning but there was sustained rain for a couple of days. The storm also brought snow at the higher elevations on Mount Shasta. It certainly won’t last with the pleasant temperatures forecasted for the next week or so, but it has been nice seeing the mountain white once again. It is a helpful reminder that autumn is just around the corner.

Before the storm, there was very little snow left on Mount Shasta. I had certainly seen it boasting less (none, even!) snow but at this point in the summer, there were just vestiges of snow left on the west side of the mountain. Oddly enough, I would say there was more snow still on the east side, in addition to the presence of the glaciers. Of course, after the storm the mountain was glazed in a beautiful white layer of sugary snow. Unlikely to last long, it is still a welcome and beautiful presence and always a visual treat after the hot, dry months of summer. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts and if more will come before all traces of this storm have melted away.

The day after the storm, the weather was still overcast and Mount Shasta was ensconced in clouds. The next day it was to clear so I headed out to Truchas Ridge to capture some sunrise shots of the freshly white mountain. As the sun rose, it blasted through the Cascade crest and a bathed mountains like the Whaleback, as well as the vales of the Shasta Valley in luscious, gold light.

Mount Shasta itself was also ablaze with the same tawny light. The fresh snow was a glowing palette for the rising light. While the snow was the reason I was there, I could not help but marvel at the light seemingly setting fire to the grass at my feet. It seemed to be radiating an illumination of its own and elevated a beautiful sunrise to a stupendous scene.

Not surprisingly, Mount Eddy did not have any snow on it. It seemed Mount Shasta’s snow line was just below 10,000 feet, which would mean that the summit of Eddy was 1,000 feet under the freeze. In spite of this, its rocky summit massif made a beautiful horizon beyond the craggy face of Cabezon Peak.

While I had gone to Truchas Ridge alone at sunrise, I returned for sunset with my wife and younger son. The intervening hours had witnessed the sky fill with clouds and partially obscure Mount Shasta. A colorful sunrise was out of the question. However, through the clouds, a large ray of light broke through and cast a giant spot of sunlight on the side of Mount Shasta. As the sun sank, the spot traveled east and upward along the flanks of Mount Shasta. It eventually cut a sunny stripe across the flank of the mountain, from Diller Canyon on Shastina all the way to the North Gate Plugs. Not quite what I had hoped for but joyous beauty all its own.

The sun eventually faded and the band of snow visible beneath the clouds was lit by a single sliver of light. A single cloud above the mountain caught the light as it escaped its circuitous route through the cloud cover.

To the west, the sun was will below the Little Scott Mountains but it still managed to light the clouds that kissed the horizon. The vivid light was a gorgeous contrast to the now darkened hills of the Shasta Valley. There is so many cool corners of that area to explore…

Now, nearly a week after the storm, snow is clinging to the upper flanks of Mount Shasta. It is always a sweet sight to see the white layers coating the rocks and crags of the summer mountain. I hope it lingers long enough for more snow to embellish what there is…

Disks In The Sky, Light In The Dust

Posted by bubbasuess on August 22, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Lenticular Clouds, Mount Shasta, sunrise. Leave a comment

Since mid-July, the summer has had a number of heat waves and not much going on in the sky. I’m not saying we’ve turned the corner into autumn yet but it has felt like the beginning of the beginning of the turn. That has definitely been the case the last couple of days, with a fair amount of activity in the sky over Mount Shasta. I was too busy yesterday to try to document anything but I made sure to get up early this morning to head out and try to capture what I reckoned would be a lenticular. This was not the only thing to make the morning interesting, however. I was startled by just how much dust was getting whipped off the unstable east side of Shastina. This plume ended up catching a lot of light, a pleasant addition to an already pretty morning. The cloud, grew and then – poof – it was gone just before sunset.

Sometimes it is difficult to tell what goes into the creation and fluctuation of a lenticular cloud. This particular formation had a fairly defined shape early in the morning but by the time the sun came up, its form was more nebulous. Did the rising of the sun, the imperceptible increase of heat in the air cause it to lose shape? It was frustratingly less interesting right at the right time for the color to hit the cloud. In spite of this, the entirety of the scene was beautiful, with textured clouds behind the mountain picking up the dawn illumination beautifully.

With the lenticular diminished, what really caught my eye was what looked like a red mist around the Whitney Glacier on Mount Shasta. The winds were coursing through the canyon between the Hotlum Cone and Shastina, throwing up a vast cloud of dust, which was then catching the light of the rising sun. This is not an uncommon phenomenon but I can’t remember ever having seen the dust plume red during sunrrise.

The cloud remained active once the sun was up and though the color had changed, it was still an impressive display. At times the dust cloud drifted far beyond the Whitney Glacier and could be seen all around the lower slopes of the mountain. The sun was still low in the sky, so the dust continued catching the warm morning light, glowingly beautifully.

Looking through the telephoto lens, it is eerie how the wind-whipped dust gives Mount Shasta the appearance that the volcano has awakened and is releasing its fury into the air, warning us of some impending cataclysm. I can almost smell the H2S as it is drifting out of the vents. Thankfully, it is just dust, and no eruption is imminent.

Overall, it was in interesting an beautiful morning. The lenticular was underwhelming but the dust on the mountain was more than expected. It continues to amaze me how Mount Shasta is not done taking its shape. The Whitney Glacier continues to undercut the east side of Shastina, causing this rugged slope to be extremely unstable and, like the walls of Mud Creek Canyon, it is still finding its angle of repose. The unstable rock continues to fall and the dust is often stirred up. It is grand spectacle.

The sky over Mount Shasta was cloudy most of the day but by afternoon it seemed as though the lenticular cloud had sucked all the other clouds into it, clearing the sky and itself growing to epic proportions. However, it was extremely unstable and with an hour and a half yet to go towards sunset, it too had almost completely disappeared. While it lasted, it was epic.

I don’t know if this lenticular activity was indicative of turning the corner towards autumn, but it does feel like the beginning of the beginning. I hope so. Summer has been great but I love fall. I can’t wait.

 

Lava Fire – 5 Years Later

Posted by bubbasuess on August 2, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Mount Shasta. Tagged: . 4 Comments

On June 25th, 2021, the Lava Fire began on the northwest corner of Mount Shasta. Though not large by current wildfire standards, it was the most recent catastrophic event in the history of a mountain formed of catastrophic events, a reminder that nature in general, and Mount Shasta in particular, is an entity that remains in flux. From our mortal perspective Mount Shasta may seem unchanging but whether the constantly falling rock in Mud Creek Canyon, the grinding of the ice under the Whitney Glacier or the the alteration of the landscape caused by the Lava Fire, the mountain belongs to Heraclitus and is never quite the same mountain twice. It has now been five years since the Lava Fire and that marks a good opportunity to remember the fire and observe how the recovery process is progressing.

The fire began with a lightning strike near the town of Weed. It was allowed to smolder for a couple days. However, by the third day it had claimed over 1,500 acres. The next day it grew even more rapidly, incinerating over 13,000 acres and the next day burning another 10.000 on top of that, reaching close to 24,000 acres by that point. Though not officially contained, the rate of growth slowed considerably, with the fire claiming only 2,000 more acres over the next 2 months before the weather turned and finally put the conflagration out for good.

There were a number of tense moments among the community while the fire burned during those days of wild expansion. The most memorable was when the fire made a run to the south, breaching the containment lines during the night and burning to the south side of Diller Canyon. This meant it was only 5.5 miles away from Mount Shasta City and the flames could be seen on Mount Shasta’s flanks from in town. An evacuation order seemed imminent but it never came. The other tense moment occurred when the fire jumped Highway 97 and made a sprint through Juniper Valley, incinerating some of the abominable pot farms that tarnish that area. This created an oddly shaped finger that protruded north of the fire out into the flats of the Shasta Valley. The run north was finally stopped at A-12, the cutoff road that forms the hypotenuse between Interstate 5 and Highway 97.

When the fire was finally completely out in September, the Lava Fire had burned 26,409 acres. Though this was small compared to other nearby fires that burned concurrently like the Antelope Fire (145,632), River Complex (199,343) and the ghastly Dixie Fire (963,309), it was big enough and devastating enough and it was on Mount Shasta, forever altering the mountain’s appearance. While each of those devastated beautiful areas, including Antelope Creek Basin, Lassen National Park and the Trinity Alps, the damage wrought on Mount Shasta was harder to take, in part because it is so personal and in part because it is so visible. Yet, five years on, the damage done to Mount Shasta seems to have healed more than those other areas that burned and thankfully so.

The Fire

When the fire began, I was camping with the Boy Scouts at Camp Fleischmann, located between Lassen National Park and Lake Almanor. Two weeks after I left that camp, the Dixie Fire would overrun it, destroying it forever. When I got back to Mount Shasta, the fire was just beginning its explosive growth. It was not the relaxing return I had been anticipating. It was compounded by caring for covid-afflicted parents and sick kids as well. Needless to say, it was a stressful week.

From my house, I could see the pyrocumulus cloud rising ominously overhead. At night, it glowed red, an awful indicator that the fire did not rest while we were trying to. The fire was only a few miles from my house.

From the Shasta Valley, it was too easy to just stop and watch the flanks of Mount Shasta burn. Old growth forests that grew in ancient lava flows and the rare, isolated aspen groves that dotted the northern side of Mount Shasta were all burning at this time.

One could watch the aerial resources combat the fire from almost anywhere, including the grocery store parking lot. It was strange engaging in normal life and shopping while just a mile or so away there was a war being fought.

The night the fire made its run on Diller Canyon was the worst. Between sick family and a fire that seemed to be pressing in on the community, everyone was on edge. I filled up the gas tank in our car in case we were going to have to evacuate. While doing so myself and two other men had to forcibly stop a homeless person from building a fire in the woods near the gas station. We had to restrain him until the sheriff arrived. All this, while the fire raged above us on Mount Shasta.

Eventually the fire was contained along the lower flanks and was left to burn itself out at the upper elevations. It eventually reached just up to the treeline, where there is an obvious and natural fire break. Smoke, and at times flames, was visible from these small fires long after the rest of the fire was over.

Aftermath

When it was all over, the fire had burned its way across most of Mount Shasta’s northern flank. It burned from Diller Canyon on the west side to the lower North Gate Buttes (Points 6700 and 6859). This was a arc of nearly 10 miles. It burned in areas near the krummholz trees at the treeline all the way down into the high desert junipers of the Shasta Valley. That represents and elevation differential that ranges from about 8,500 feet to 3,000 feet and all the commensurate forest ecosystems to be found in that kind of elevation strata.

As anticipated, the landscape was devastated. Vast swaths of trees were burned, the thick brush of the lower elevations was incinerated and the deep duff that covered the forest floor was annihilated. It was tragic to witness. Dust from the burn areas became a problem and the ghost forests, the innumerable trees standing naked of needles were haunting reminders of that had been and now what the future of the area augured.

Besides the natural aspect of the region, the human geography was impacted as well. The fire burned all around the Union Pacific’s Dry Canyon Bridge, damaging parts of it and necessitating repairs before train traffic could resume. The repairs began instantly, while smoke still rose from smoldering fires. It was eerie in town with no trains passing through. Rail traffic had to be routed east, along the BNSF’s right of way.

Transportation was further complicated by the activity of Whitney Creek. The creek has historically been unstable at times, with large mud flows erupting when the massive Whitney Glacier has occasional, summer outbursts. Now, with the summer heat and the burned soil, the creek’s watershed was even more susceptible to erosion. Consequently, the creek overwhelmed the drainage under Highway 97 and spilled out onto the roadway, burying it in mud. Heavy equipment was brought in to excavate the impoundment and to dig out the creek’s channel so that water could pass through more readily. This section of the creek as been permanently altered by this process.

As sad as it was, dwelling on the events of the fire did not help and we moved on, accepting the new normal that had been inflicted upon the mountain.

Five Years Later

Now 5 years have passed since the Lava Fire. Mount Shasta has joined the sad ranks of other Cascade giants like Adams, Hood and Jefferson that have all had similar scars left on their mighty flanks. Fortunately, nature immediately set out doing what it does best – it heals. The first year things looked pretty rough but by the second green was returning to the landscape in abundance. The vast ghost forests of burned snags remain, but the heavy snow load, especially in 2023, seemed to shear a lot of the branches off of many of them. I am always of the opinion that the stark white trunks, sans branches, always look better than the snarled remains of burned trees that have retained their branches. From the base of the mountain, this has improved the look of things significantly.

Healing is more than simple appearance however. Restoration takes time and effort from people as well. The USFS has contributed to this by planting over 1.4 million seedlings on Mount Shasta, most of them in lower elevation areas on the sides of the large Graham Lava Flow. This consists of ponderosa and Jeffrey pines. This is an excellent contribution to the reforestation process. I hope similar efforts, even if smaller, can help jumpstart the red fir and white bark pines that burned at higher elevations, as well as restarting some of the aspen groves that grew on the mountains north side.

These are excellent developments and I am optimistic about Mount Shasta’s future in these burned areas. And yet the scars of the fire remain:

One can observe that the burned areas are already filling in with brush. Trees will follow. In 30 years, these areas will look quite different. In fifty, it will be hard to tell there was a fire. In 100, It will be overgrown. Such is the way of recovery.

For now, I am grateful for the 5 years of healing we have already had. It is getting better. I have not been able to bring myself to visit the Whitney Falls or Black Lava trails. I think the time is right to return and see how the land has fared. I will report if I do.

So five years have passed since the Lava Fire. Devastation was wrought, lands were changed. I pray we have no more fires like that on Mount Shasta, or anywhere else. 2021 was a bad year for fires. May it remain in the worst. Now Mount Shasta still stands alone and mighty, and like the rest of us, it bears the marks of the vicissitudes of a fallen world. Yet it remains beautiful and wonderful.

Mount Shasta’s Staggering Run Of Summer Sunsets

Posted by bubbasuess on July 17, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Echo Point, Hiking, Mount Shasta, sunset, Truchas Ridge. 4 Comments

There has been a run of magnificent sunsets around Mount Shasta the last few days. It is fairly unusual to get a cluster of beautiful days that yield great sunsets this time of year. Summer is often the most boring season of the year to photograph Mount Shasta. With the exception of its annual snowpack, the mountain is unchanging and, as grand as it is, it is the conditions around the mountain that really make the scene memorable (this is said with full knowledge that seeing the mountain every day can make one complacent). Thus, summer and its high temperatures, often clear skies and harsh light, can be a season of lower expectations when it comes in interesting meteorological circumstances.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, since summer is the time to be on the mountain, rather than looking up at it. Either that, or over in the Trinity Divide’s high country, hiking the trails there and enjoying the awesome views. This is made even better now that Independence Day is past and the Old Ski Bowl has opened up. I headed up there Saturday morning to check the conditions. The temperature was perfect, the grass was green and the lupine was just starting to come out. In a week or two, it is going to be spectacular. It’s time to start heading up to the springs…

The sky that morning was filled with the kind of gauzy clouds that I really like. Other than lenticulars and big thunderheads, these are my favorites since break up the blue sky with interesting shapes and catch the light well. I knew I had to catch the sunset and little did I know this was just the beginning of a four day run of incredible summer sunsets.

My family accompanied me to Truchas Ridge hoping to catch a great show. The clouds had not persisted the way I had hoped but the light was interesting and partially filtered by layers of haze to the west. While the vale beneath us was brightly lit, the mountain itself was in shadow. This was not dismaying, since this permutation of illumination often sees the light move to, and then up, Mount Shasta as the sun sets.

In the meantime, the large massif of Mount Eddy was getting great evening light. While spectacular (especially when hiking on it) Mount Eddy can be frustratingly difficult to capture in photographs because its lines often block the most interesting parts. From Truchas Ridge, it does present an appealing visage but still fails to impress like it does when actually on it.

The light finally crept its way over to Mount Shasta, lighting it up with the evening light. However, this did not last long before the alpenglow set in. What was bright with hints of gold light suddenly turned bright red. Set against the dark landscape below the mountain, the alpenglow was particularly intense. It seemed particularly intense contrasted against the dark hills of the valley and the un-illuminated sky.

The clouds finally picked up some color, but they had sailed south, beyond Mount Shasta, leaving the overarching scene a little underwhelming. Nonetheless, this had been a fantastic sunset. Little did I know it was the first of a run of four!

Before leaving the ridge, I made the short jaunt to the summit of Truchas Ridge. The wind was blowing powerfully and the sky still had color in it to the north and west. Far to the north on the horizon, Black Mountain and the Oregon summits Pilot Rock and Soda Mountain were visible. The 360 vista from the summit is top tier and a great final spectacle to end a great evening.

The following day the clouds had a similar form so I headed out to Truchas Ridge again. This time, however, I ended up at Echo Point. The lake in Echo Basin has dried up, which it does in years following a light winter but the view is still awesome. However, rather than going to the highest point, I made my way to a lower bench below the spot where we are going to build a campsite. It’s not a bad view to have from the opening of a canvas tent! The point’s shadow was already stretching across the basin by the time I got there. I anticipated the conditions would improve as the sun sank to the west.

While I waited for the sun to set, I enjoyed views other than that of Mount Shasta, in particular the view east, toward the Goosenest. The rocky hills the surround Echo Point make great foreground and offer excellent exploration potential. The crags are great for scrambling and each ridge and summit has a slightly different perspective on Mount Shasta and other landmarks. The Goosenest is a criminally underrated mountain. Boasting a great summit crater, loads of black lava and a chance to observe the exceedingly rare Baker Cypress. It is also the sixth highest summit in the Mount Shasta area and would be the 28th tallest peak in the state if it were located in Oregon. It also features a seldom hiked trail to its summit!

The sun finally set and the sky erupted into a burning panoply of fiery clouds radiating out from Mount Shasta. This was the kind of sunset I was hoping for the previous night. Truth be told, it was the best sunset I had seen in quite a while. Though the basin was in shadow, the fiery sky more than made up for it and the alpenglow on the mountain wasn’t too shabby either! As the light faded, I reckoned that was it and the summer weather would bring clear skies once again. Little did I suspect it was only halfway through an incredible series of spectacles.

The next day was another beautiful day in Mount Shasta, with small lenticulars scattered across the northern sky. When sunset neared and I had finished all my tasks for the day, I headed out once again, since it seemed Mount Shasta wasn’t done with it’s pyrotechnics. This time, however, I headed up toward Castle Lake. It seemed a better perspective to capture the lenticulars than Truchas Ridge would have been. By them time I got up there the lenticulars had mostly faded but the light was great. The sunset was more than ample compensation for missing the lenticulars, as the sky once again scorched by the sunset and pulsed with pinks and purples. Mount Shasta itself radiated warm light as the sun made its final descent.

One thing about this perspective that always effects me is the sight of Mount Shasta City lying at the foot of the mountain. I am always struck by what an incredible location for a town it is. Indeed, all the communities around the foot of the mountain are in enviable positions. Another things that is striking about this perspective is the town’s elevation, which is approximately 3,500 feet above sea level. At 14,179 feet, Mount Shasta rises over 10,500 feet above the city. This is over 1,000 feet more of vertical relief than it is from Yosemite Valley to the top of Mount Lyell, the highest point in Yosemite National Park. That is dramatic topography!

After three days in a row of great sunsets, I would have been right to assume that the weather system had sun its course but, in fact, it saved the best for last. All through the day I saw thunderclouds building over Mount Shasta and by evening I could hear distant thunder. I checked the webcam to see the situation in the valley and as it updated (every minute or so), the newest image featured a bolt of lightning ripping through the sky. What timing! On the webcam it was evident that rain was pouring down throughout the Shasta Valley. That was definitely the place to go!

My wife and I met at the Ridge and we hiked out to one of the vista points. Much of the valley was in shadow  as the sun sank behind clouds to the west. It didn’t seem like there was going to be much light for a sunset but I was hopeful. I have found that during the thunderstorms, if the clouds are heavy, there are times when the sun sinks just below the cloud layer as it sets and for just a minute or two the whole landscape lights up. I was hopeful that would be the case on this occasion. The first indication that my hope was not in vain was off to the west, where Mount Eddy was bathed in warm sunset light.

Further to the south, a very faint rainbow appeared directly over Black Butte. It was difficult to make out but the color strata were just discernable against the dark clouds. The summit of Black Butte was picking up a little light as well. While this was nice, I have seen (better) rainbows in this area before around sunset and nothing really came of it.

Suddenly, the base of Mount Shasta was aflame with a deep red glow. This was the sun’s light hitting the mountain as it sank into the clouds to the west. Just a narrow plane of light was able to make it through the clouds but it was rich and awesome. I knew that as the sun got lower and dropped behind the horizon the light would travel upward on Mount Shasta. I didn’t know what the overall conditions would be but I was certain the mountain itself was going to get lit up.

Suddenly, as Mount Shasta was enveloped in alpenglow, the rainbow over Black Butte burst across the sky. I have seen a lot of rainbows around Mount Shasta but this was by far one of the best, in the best conditions and from the best perspective. Now this was an awesome sunset! Soon the rainbow was joined by a fainter twin. I could not believer my fortune, catching a double rainbow from this perspective!

At this point, a fantastic sunset became an epic one. The alpenglow on Mount Shasta, the light in the clouds and the rainbow all intensified. The second rainbow grew a little fainter but was still visible. Now the hills of the Shasta Valley, indeed the land and rocks I was standing on, all now glowed as the sunset’s light reflected off the clouds and the whole area seemed to hum red. It was absolutely incredible but even on top of this dazzling sight, the sounds of the blowing wind, occasional peels of thunder, howling coyotes and the peent and “sonic boom” of the diving nighthawks. This was one of the richest pallets my senses had experienced. It was one of the greatest sunsets I have ever seen.

Eventually the strong light began to creep away from Mount Shasta. Even so, the mountain retained a vestige of alpenglow. The rainbow hung on tenaciously in the still illuminated clouds. The ground was still red as well. The contrast of the lighted areas with the light and dark of the unlit areas was actually quite beautiful and made the fading grandeur of the rainbow sunset a little easier to endue. We hung on to soak as much of the magic up as we could. Even though it is “never enough”, we were satisfied.

Looking north, I could see the light still hanging on so I hurried over to a vista point where Mount McLoughlin, southern Oregon’s tallest peak, is visible. Across the valley from Truchas Ridge, the Hawkmoon Tree made an odd silhouette against the red sky. This tree is one of the most interesting junipers in the Shasta Valley and is home to one of the largest hawk nests I have seen in the area. The light finally faded away completely and my wife and hiked back to the trailhead at our picnic area. We were thrilled with the magnificent experience we had just had.

Thus ended the run of four beautiful summer sunsets. The thunderstorm broke the weather system and the clouds retreated from the sky. Now, a few days after the final, glorious scene, I am still energized by the entire series but the final, greatest one in particular. I have been blessed with many amazing sunsets but that ranked among the most amazing I have experienced. Thank you Lord for that profound opportunity.

250th Independence Day, Mount Shasta

Posted by bubbasuess on July 4, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Hiking, Mount Shasta. 1 Comment

I hope everyone had a blessed Independence Day. It is sobering to think that our republic has survived 2 and a half centuries, weathering many terrible crises but always pushing toward the realization of its founding principles. While imperfect and imperfectly in pursuit of those ideals, America is still the greatest and freest place on earth. May it remain so.

As we often do, my family took time to escape the crowds that descend on Mount Shasta (and being immersed in them for 15 hours while volunteering at the 4th of July Walk/Run) and head up to the Pacific Crest Trail for a hike out to one of the magnificent vista points. We kept it short today but it was still satisfying to hike this spectacular section of trail.

Seeing the incredible scenery and the vast expanses of wilderness makes me all the more grateful that American has become a civilization capable of preserving its wilderness character. I am reminded of the epigraph at the beginning of Lonesome Dove:

“All America lies at the end of the wilderness road, and our past is not a dead past, but still lives in us. Our forefathers had civilization inside themselves, the wild outside. We live in the civilization they created, but within us the wilderness still lingers. What they dreamed, we live, and what they lived, we dream.”

I hope we have the fortitude to preserve these things henceforth.

After a wonderful meal, we finished the day taking in the fireworks over Lake Siskiyou. It was a great day commemorating a great event. God bless America.

Truchas Bookends For June

Posted by bubbasuess on June 30, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Mount Shasta, Truchas Ridge. Leave a comment

In keeping with what has been a developing trend, I have a collection of images for the month. So far in 2026 my time has been such that I have been reduced to one summary post per month. Of course, I finally bucked that in June with 2(!) posts, this being the second. I also managed to get a review of how the Sacramento River has continued to reshape the inlet at Lake Siskiyou. It’s hard to believe that was the latest installment in a series, but after a nine year hiatus.

All that being said, I still have some images of Mount Shasta that are worth sharing. Not surprisingly, the month essentially began and ended at Truchas Ridge. There is so much to be done out there but it is satisfying work, as being out there feeds me.

June basically began the way May ended, out at the Truchas Ridge. After doing some trail work, I set up my camera for the sunset. With an abundance of clouds, I was hoping for something interesting to happen. Alas, the clouds were too much and the sunlight was muted, save for a brief burst of color on the interwoven hills that unfolded between the ridge and Mount Shasta. Brief as it was, it was beautiful.

I hope the clouds would improve for the sunrise, but I was skunked again, as there was almost no color once again. The hills were barely illuminated by the rising sun. Though a “bust”, how can one argue with such a view?

It is easy for me to forget the other landmarks around Truchas Ridge because Mount Shasta dominates the horizon, but other mountains, near and far are still incredible. In the case of this early June morning, the peak I call Cabezon (after a prominent peak in New Mexico) made a glowing frame of Mount Eddy. If Eddy were not forever stuck beneath Mount Shasta’s overwhelming shadow, it would be a well-known landmark in its own right.

Then it was off to the northwest corner of Santa Catalina, taking the boy scout troop to camp for a week of scuba and other marine activities. The location of this camp is second to none. Absolutely spectacular.

Upon returning to Mount Shasta, the weather took a turn, from hot to the first summer thunderstorm. The coming storm did not yield any lenticulars but it did offer a beautiful sunrise. Just as before though, the colors were not as strong as I had hoped. The clouds continued to filter the light just enough to mute things.

Still, it is always a great morning when the rugged east face of Shastina is lit up by the rising sun. All the other sides of this massive sub-peak of Mount Shasta are composed of talus and scree but the east side, undercut and scraped clean by the awesome Whitney Glacier, is the exception to the rule. The scree has long been transported down the side of the mountain by the glacier and the rocky strata at the heart of the peak is exposed.

Not surprisingly, the thunderstorm yielded some fresh snow on the summit of Mount Shasta. Seeing this kind of deposit on the mountain reminds me of 2022, when fresh snow was dropped on Mount Shasta every single month of the year.

The fresh snow was still present on the day before the equinox. The colors were once again muted but it was a warm and windy summer evening, a perfect time to be outside enjoying the vistas.

The cooler weather of the last week of June has brought a few more colorful sunsets and some mild lenticular activity. At times, little clouds gathered and dissipated, flirting with the possibility that something interesting might happen. At the same time, the colors were getting a bit richer, giving me hope that a good sunset might yet happen.

My hopes were finally rewarded on the second to last sunset of the month. Naturally, I was out at Truchas Ridge, just as the month began but this time I was not to be denied: the colors were magnificent. There were even a few small stacks of clouds that kept forming and then vaporizing but overall, the sunset was absolutely magnificent. What a grand way to end the month! Thank you Lord!

Checking In On The Sacramento River Inlet

Posted by bubbasuess on June 29, 2026
Posted in: Hiking, Mount Shasta, Rivers. Tagged: . 2 Comments

The Sacramento River flows vigorously just before entering Lake Siskiyou.

There was a season on this blog that I followed the changing conditions at the Sacramento River’s inlet into Lake Siskiyou. A number of flood events in steady succession repeatedly altered the layout of inlet landmarks. In particular, this had bearing on the position of the Lake Siskiyou Trail, which, each spring, has temporary bridges put out over the river in order to complete the loop around the lake. With the changing landscape, the trail was forced to alter course from year to year. It was fascinating to watch the river shape the land through which it flowed (Some posts can be found here, here, here, here and here).

It is hard to believe that it has been nearly 10 years since I have posted on this. My goodness have I been doing this for a long time…

This spring I decided to check in on the inlet with the intent of examining the route of the river’s flow and observing how the river may have changed its course over the last several years.

The first thing I did was get on Google Earth and examine the satellite imagery. It was obvious that trends that had begun over 10 years ago have continued. The process may have slowed somewhat but it has certainly not stopped.

The above image is from 2012, one of the last years the inlet had this particular configuration. I can say from both experience and observation that the inlet area had been like this for several years without significant change. I basis this statement on both my personal observation, beginning in 2007 and also from the fact that there was abundant plant and tree growth dispersed throughout the inlet area. If significant changes had taken place, this growth would not have been able to grow to the extent that it did. The ability to scale Google Earth’s image dates confirms this as well, showing little change as far back as 1998. Thus, it can be asserted that there was a certain amount of stability at the inlet for several years.

This image above is from 2026. It makes clear that the Sacramento River has both altered its course and washed away significant portions of the inlet area. In particular, the north channel has gradually shifted southward. Where it once entered the lake while hugging the low cliffs that hemmed in the flood plain, the north channel now enters the lake in the center of the inlet area. Measurements on Google Earth indicate the north channel’s point of entry into Lake Siskiyou has shifted 176 yards to the south over the last 13 years. Moreover, much of the plant community has been washed away, leaving the vari-hued river rock of the Sacramento the dominant feature of the area.

Below are a progression of images of the north channel area as it flows into the lake from 3 different years. Note how the river initially flows right up against the cliffs and then moving southward, cutting a deep channel into the rocky floodplain. The channel then recedes further south as the river erodes the loose rock strata:

2013

2016

2026

This does, of course, have an impact on the Lake Siskiyou Trail’s route over the river once the seasonal bridges are put out. The particular issue is the constantly moving south bank of the north channel. The loose strata of river rock makes placing the bridge securely a challenge. In 2012 seemingly permanent construction of gabions put the crossing in a permanent position. It was just a year or two later that the river began to alter its course, the gabions were washed out and the evolution of the area began.


In March of 2026, the river was wide and it was difficult to determine where the bridge might be placed.

By June 2026, a large causeway composed of river rock had been constructed in order to elevate the foundation of the north side of the bridge as well as close the gap over the river so that it can be crossed in a single span. This level of construction was in no way necessary several years ago. Also noteworthy is that in 2012, the original iteration of the bridges across the north channel had a short span at the edge of the flood plain and then a second crossing that required two spans bridging a series of gabions. Now only the single span is needed due to the causeway.

A lot has changed at this area. It is fascinating to observe just how much the river channel, lake shoreline, and trail have all been shaped by the river’s flooding.

Note how in all those images, the south channel and its span have remained constant. Though there was one year where the river shifted its primary flow into the south channel, the following year it was back to emptying the majority of its water into the lake through the north channel.

Remarkably, the bridge over the south channel still rests on the original gabion that was put in place in 2011-2012. As is often the case, the south channel dries up early in the season, leaving the north channel the only one that needs the bridge.

Though I have gone to the inlet many times over the last many years, it has been a good exercise to go back and evaluate it critically with an eye toward the changes that continue to take place. It makes me wonder if the north will eventually push all the way to the mouth of the south channel and they will merge, creating an island in the river, rather than one formed partially by the lake. Time will tell.

Of course, the river upstream has many other beautiful spots that tend to draw my attention more these days. It is amazing how many beautiful spots continue to go unnoticed. At least some of these won’t just erode away as the river flows.

Four Sunsets From Truchas Ridge

Posted by bubbasuess on May 31, 2026
Posted in: Cascade Range, Desert, Hiking, Mount Shasta, sunset, Truchas Ridge. 1 Comment

Another month has rocketed by and, sadly, the remodel is not yet completed. A couple more weeks, I think and we will be just about done. In the mean time, the only outside time I have had has been spent out at Truchas Ridge. It is hard to believe that it has been 3 years since “The Incident” and a rapid reduction in our activity out there. We are nearing the end of the subsequent legal process and I will probably write a lot more about the ridge and what happened out there once things have been worked out. Hopefully by the end of summer it will finally be done!

In the meantime, I have been working out at Truchas Ridge for the first time in 3 years. I used to have a trail out there but the fallow time has caused it to completely revert back to nature, except for the rock steps I built. Fortunately I had put out cairns to help mark the route as well. Now, since I had to start over, I have been able to reroute a lot of the path, making it a bit more interesting and less rocky in some areas. I have also added 2 loops, forming something of a figure eight.

I have actually been out there for a number of sunsets this month but between working on the trails or clouds obscuring the mountain, I have only recorded 3 sunsets. None of them had particularly great light or interesting clouds but the scenery is nonpareil and just being out there with the wind blowing, the nighthawks diving and the magnificent mountain all lit up was its own reward and worth documenting.

The first sunset was the second day of May. A storm was looming and a lenticular-like cloud hung over the valley. While it didn’t coalesce into well formed event, it did cast an ominous pall over the hills and heightened the anticipation of the coming storm. The clouds still let the light through and the alpenglow on Mount Shasta was terrific.

The second sunset began an interesting trend in the month of May. For whatever reason, the clouds consistently obscured Mount Shasta on the north side. At times the clouds were thick, others they were light but they regularly blocked the summit from view. Nonetheless, the sunset still illuminated the landscape and the scenery was stunning, regardless of whether one could see the summit.

 

The third sunset I recorded was especially memorable because I was absolutely beat. I had been clearing the path and moving large rocks for the trail, but had still managed to haul my camera and tripod along with the tools I was using. Once again, clouds blocked the summit, though it did manage to pop out from time to time. This was probably the prettiest sunset I took in from the ridge in May, 2026.

It has been gratifying to get the trail into such good shape. In the past it has only been an out and back but now it is something of a figure eight – 2 loops connected by a short path. The above images are all from the original out and back, though all of the refurbished path in May. After a little more work, I may post some of the other loops and their vistas, of which there are some grand ones.

The last sunset happened to be the last one of May. I headed over to the Keyhole at Pecos Point. This area is a family favorite though I have written about it little or shown very many images from here. The Keyhole is a pretty cool rock formation with brilliant green lichen on it. My kids like to climb the rocks in this area, having spent countless hours doing so over the years. The views from this area are jaw-dropping.

After the Keyhole, I headed to the summit of Truchas Ridge and then over to New Artists Point. The clouds that had surrounded Mount Shasta earlier were now entirely gone but the alpenglow was marvelous.

I am grateful to be back out working on Truchas Ridge again after so many years. We have a lot of plans out there and I am sure I will be writing about it more as we work them out. In the mean time, May has gone and June is now here. Hopefully I can get more than one post out…