Drive a scenic byway
between majestic volcanoes,
with stops for fishing,
hiking, and waterfalls
In the southwest corner of
Lassen Volcanic National Park 
, we're looking for a simple place to stop and have lunch. The alpine land is clear of trees as often as not, and icy streams trickle through lush roadside pastures of deep green grass that just scream for a picnic blanket, some cheese, and wine—but it's all so beautiful that Alicia and I can't decide where to pull over.
Leave it to nature to create such perfection, even in the wake of destruction. When Lassen Peak blew its top on May 22, 1915, the volcanic blast left parts of the region looking hopelessly devastated. But more than 90 years later, much of this land's unique beauty lies in its volcanic legacy, and a looping drive off Interstate 5 can lead you right through the heart of volcano country then back to the freeway again. Starting in Red Bluff, follow State 36 east for about 45 miles before turning north onto State 89. The route meanders into the national park and onward along a northwestward bend—part of the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway.
The drive is among the most beautiful in the state, yet it's remarkably uncrowded. To get oriented at the beginning of our trip through this wide-open region, Alicia and I had stopped by the
California Welcome Center in Anderson, off I-5 just south of Redding. There the helpful travel concierges had loaded us up with maps, lodging suggestions, and information on local attractions.
Explore Lassen
Our maps had led us along our stretch of perfect picnic spots, where we stretched our legs and relaxed after our long drive. Back on the road, the snow-capped summit of Lassen before us, we now find ourselves heading for the northeast corner of the park off State 44. A sandy trail seems perfect for exploring, so we head down it to discover a bizarre volcanic landscape framing a looming black cinder cone named, well,
Cinder Cone , rising some 846 feet and crowned by a perfect crater. The last 20 minute of the 1½-hour trek is a scrambling climb that brings us to the circular crater rim, where we peer down at a Martian-red landscape of volcanic-gravel dunes and a massive hardened river of lava snaking along the crater floor.
It all seems raw and elemental, as do other places in the park with names like Sulphur Works,
Bumpass Hell , and Terminal Geyser. At these locations, hydrothermal vents spew sulfurous clouds of steam from pools of boiling water, reminders that this volcanic land is still very much alive.
Green pastures and still waters
Along State 89 just north of Lassen parklands we head into a lush green valley scribed by a winding waterway. Just 20 feet wide in places, Hat Creek seems remarkably serene—but it's a battleground here. One of the country's premiere fly-fishing destinations, Hat Creek attracts thousands of fly-fishers from late April to mid-November in search of brown, brook, and native rainbow trout up to 20 inches in length. The fishing season lasts from late April to mid-November, but it's surprising how many people come here, fall in love with the region, and never leave.
Alicia and I continue to
MacArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park , where 129-foot Burney Falls plunges over a basalt-faced, lava-rock ridge, thundering in a large pool below. Mist swirls upward from the water, cooling the hot afternoon air and dampening the surrounding cliff walls and moss-green boulders.
We continue to snake northwest on State 89 to more watery drama at Falls of the McCloud, a series of three dramatic cascades along the McCloud River We tighten our shoelaces and head off on the 3-mile round-trip McCloud River Trail, which skirts the north edge of a deep chasm. Numerous lookouts offer a bird's-eye view of this famed trout river.
We spend the night in the tiny town of McCloud, a former lumber-company hub that's now a sleepy detour off the main road with a perfect view of the region's other fabled volcano, Mt. Shasta. In the morning, Alicia and I go for a walk on the peaceful streets, and while she peels off in search of coffee, I yak it up with a few locals clustered outside a bank on Main Street. Local news includes talk of a black bear the recently strolled through town. Alicia comes back to tell me she's found coffee at the Mountain Star Cafe in the
McCloud River Mercantile . With its 1890s façade and collection of trinket shops within, the old mercantile makes an appealing stop, especially when we finish our espressos and check out the treats in the frozen-in-time Sugar Pine Candy Shoppe.
Continuing north, we nose into the town of Mt. Shasta, near the junction of State 89 and I-5, a stunning counterpoint to sleepy McCloud
http://www.mccloudchamber.com/visitor-information. This bustling town has a hip, alternative spirit, with relaxed cafes touting organic ingredients, bookshops, and tie-dye shirts in shop windows. But any store here, no matter how appealing, has tough competition in the inescapable profile of
Mt. Shasta , a massive snowy cone soaring 14,162 feet into the clear sky.
Alicia and I squander the afternoon on the front patio of
The Goat Tavern ; perhaps it's the 12 taps rotating some 60 to 70 microbrews (the tangerine wheat beer is a must on a hot day). We stare up at Shasta, thankful that, though it still spews steam on occasion, the volcano is sleepy now. Kicking back in our chairs, taking a last sip of beer in the warm sun, we know just how the mountain feels.—Alistair Bland
