Manzanita Rest Area to Crater Lake National Park (100ish miles)

I was feeling a bit better the next morning when I awoke at the Manzanita Rest Stop, even though it was cold pushing toward frigid. The great equalizer was the purchase I made between leg one and leg two of this very long trip: the cold weather sleeping bag.

Let me tell you something folks: Everyone should have one of these. You should use them in your home. Forget sheets and blankets and shit. Cold weather sleeping bags are the BOMBity BOMB BOMB. Not only are they super warm, they are silky soft. It is a damn pleasure to remove one's socks and get nice and toasty and slide-y all up in thar. And for road trips like this? It makes all the difference in the world.

I craved a Real Breakfast (on the sugary side) so kept my eye out for eateries along the way, knowing it would be about a two hour drive from the rest stop to Crater Lake. What I was not prepared for was the Miracle on OR-62, the highway on the way up to Crater Lake. I was still bummed about missing out on the sequoias and redwoods I'd planned to visit in California, entirely forgetting that they are not kept within the confines of the damn forests named after them (idjit). At a certain point on 62, I entered a densely forested area, a tunnel of towering trees, evergreens and the like, but also my beloved redwoods. They were here! They were here! And it was so beautiful, I can't express it. I just can't. If I'd had the capacity to feel at the time, I would have cried. Unfortunately, I was still a bit thick headed from the cold, so settled for simple joy.

When I reached Prospect, Oregon, I saw a nice place to stop called Beckie's Cafe. The whole interior is wood paneled, and it truly does look like a little cabin, complete with warbly, antique windows. The views outside them were stunning, though it was a little too cold in the restaurant to get all that comfortable and settled.

I ordered french toast and got what I believe was their specialty instead, a sort of cinnamon bun french toast, which tasted fine, though truth be told the real maple syrup just never does it for me. I am a troglodyte, I know, but bring me pancake syrup before maple syrup every time. MMMM corn syrupppp.

The servers were very similar to those Brooklyn diner battle axes, so they made little impression on me, though I could see by the Google reviews that plenty of travelers felt otherwise. It's hard to imagine what there is to be grumpy about in such a beautiful setting, but I guess life is life everywhere, and anyplace can become common and grating given time. I have no genuine complaints about the wait staff--they were fast and to the point if a little chilly and brusque--but fair warning to folks who are accustomed to sunnier service.

I carried on toward Crater Lake, knowing there would be more elevations to deal with and hoping my remnant stuffiness would not complicate the endeavor. I really wanted to have a spirtual moment at Crater Lake--the pictures promised an insanely beautiful spectacle. But you know how it is with spiritual moments. They have to happen to you. You can't stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon and force yourself to feel the Jesus.

Looking from Left to Right, standing on the Southwestern Edge of Crater Lake

Crater Lake is incredible--and highly, highly recommended for anyone who has the means to get there. You have to go--if not for the geological and volcanic significance, then just for the stunning vistas across a lake so pure and blue you really could cry just looking at it. Even if you were in a Vader sort of way, with all your soft parts burnt off, you really could feel something standing at the edge of it and realizing the titanic destruction it took to make this perfect place. Coming off of a cold didn't help me much, but I found that there were other things to goggle at that made me yawp for joy anyway.

Ancient crags.

The primary reason why Crater Lake was more of a quick jaunt than and all day haunt was quite simple: It was COLD. C-c-c-c-c-c-c-cold. Even with all my coats, I was sprinting out of the car to take pictures, then sprinting back in to get warm.

As I drove up the northwestern road encircling the lake, every patch in shadow was covered in snow and ice. Try to imagine precarious roads winding upward and little to no guardrail to keep you from sliding into infinity or at least banks of very spiky trees. As I made my way up, things got a bit tense. I was feeling ready to move on maybe. I was a bit Over It. And then I passed some frosted trees and had to double back.

In His Full Glory

A Frost Monster. Clear as day. It was Beautiful. Magnificent. Perfect!!!! I took so many pictures of the Frost Monster and surrounding trees--the ones posted here are just a fraction of the total I ended up with. It was exquisite and weird and somehow joyful. Maybe it was the fact that I saw the form in the ice, maybe it was just odd enough to set my world slightly atilt, and a little perspective shift was all I needed to get back into the game. I was excited to be there, excited about the lake, and overexcited about the beings lurking in the frost, if only I could get the right shot to coax them out into the open for any eye to see...and recognize.

A close up of his wing and clawed feeties.

I spent just as much time in that single spot of the park as I did through all the rest of it. Don't get me wrong, Crater Lake was fantastic, but it was that spark of imagination, seeing something more within an ordinary thing, that woke me up and made me feel almost 100% human again.

I left Crater Lake in a warm little bubble of glee. I couldn't wait to get my hands on those photos and see what came out. I'm still not sure I did the scene justice (great, good, bad? I don't care!) but it was the fun of the moment I'm going to remember long after.