Around 9:00, I head off on the seven-mile drive from my camp to Crater Lake. About 7500 years ago, there was a volcano here...Mount Mazama. It erupted with a force 500 times greater than the Mt. St. Helens blast. The eruption blew off the top of the volcano and the rest collapsed...exposing a crater or "caldera" as it is called. Over time, the crater filled with water from rain and snow melt...no streams or rivers feed into the lake. And that is how Crater Lake was formed.
Over the last five years, I've visited a lot of parks and seen a lot of very impressive naturals wonders. But, of all the things that I have seen, it is Crater Lake that is the most impressive. It is difficult to explain how beautiful it is. You see photos of it, but when you actually stand there looking at it...it just blows you away. I have never seen water so blue...ranging from aqua to deep blue to almost purple.
There is a 33 mile drive around the rim. I drove this in 2008, and there is no way in hell I'm driving it again. Along the "rim", you've got a 1500 foot drop-off on one side and drop of several hundred feet down to the lake. On the "Bill Thee Pants Wetting Scale", this drive is a 9.3. It is exceeded in the "terror factor" only by the Top of the World Highway in Alaska/Yukon...which is a perfect 10.
So...I venture out for only five miles...I can't take any more than that. But, along that five miles, I get a lot of great photos at various overlooks along the way. Near the Lodge, there's a path...and I spend two hours walking that and taking more photos.
Late in the afternoon, I head back to camp for "cocktail hour"...another Maker's Mark before dinner. I grill that rib eye that I picked up yesterday...and fry up some potatoes with that. The El Corazon 2010 Malbec is the perfect accompaniment.
Right after dinner, a nice fellow named Michael stops by to look over the camper. We end up talking for an hour. He came here from the Philippines as a boy with all of his possessions in a backpack. He had a successful career as an aerospace engineer...and along the way, he and his wife put four daughters through college...each one a professional...a lawyer, an accountant, etc. Now, he's six months into retirement and enjoying every minute. To me, Michael's story is the story of America...the American dream.
Around 8:00PM, the guy camping next to me comes over. He's with a friend of his and their six teenage daughters. They saw that I was alone, and they want me to come over for a few beers. Miguel grew up in Vera Cruz, Mexico and now lives in San Diego.
So...I'm relaxing with a beer, some snacks, and some nice music. And that's when Miguel asks me if I would like some Tequila...Sauza Reserva Tequila Make no mistake...this is not an invitation, this is a challenge. A "gauntlet" of sorts has been thrown down.
Now...it's just going to be Miguel and me...mano a mano...gladiators dueling in a Coliseum forged ion the crucible of Blue Agave. There is no lime...no salt...just Tequila poured into plastic cups. And so it goes...sip by sip, cup by cup...each of us waiting for the other to utter the two words signaling defeat..."no mas". There will be no winner in this duel...both will ultimately be losers. And then...the bottle is empty...the duel ends in a draw.
By now, it's after midnight. Even though my campsite is right next door, I can't seem to find it. The girls take me by the hand and lead me to my camper.
I climb in, fully-clothed, and I'm out like a light...a very "tipsy" light.
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