We woke up this morning to frost everywhere. It motivated us to get moving and on the road. We got out of camp within an hour and went to the nearby post office to pick up a package. We will be enjoying the goodies for weeks! Thanks, mom!
Then we headed south on highway 97. We had been anxious about the 30-mile stretch of this big road that we could not avoid, but it wasn't so bad. We had a decent shoulder and even a tailwind for some of it!
The miles passed quickly, but we were still relieved to turn onto a smaller road up to Crater Lake National Park. We ate a quick lunch at the junction then headed up the road. We were greeted by a big hill up to Cascade Summit at about 6,000 feet. 
It looks steep, but it was really just very straight. At the top we turned onto another road and, tired but excited, we entered the park! The lake is only 7% of the actual park, so it took us awhile to reach it. On the way, we talked with a touring cyclist who had come from Maine and spent the day riding the 33 mile road around the lake, and we passed through the Pumice Desert, which looked exactly as it sounds. Up and up we climbed. 
The lake level is around 6,100 feet, and the caldera containing it rises up steeply to the edge. So we had to go above 7,000 feet to see the lake. But it was worth it once we got there. 
The lake was stunning: steep cliffs rising straight out of the rich, blue water, their reflections mirrored in the surface. Furthermore, because we were up so high, we had a great vista of the surrounding mountains with the sun setting over them. A great way to end the day!
Hi Friends! Here's that poem I promised you. It's called "Underwear" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (it's not supposed to have the big spaces between the lines, but that's the way it copied, so oh well):
ReplyDeleteI didn’t get much sleep last night
thinking about underwear
Have you ever stopped to consider
underwear in the abstract
When you really dig into it
some shocking problems are raised
Underwear is something
we all have to deal with
Everyone wears
some kind of underwear
The Pope wears underwear I hope
The Governor of Louisiana
wears underwear
I saw him on TV
He must have had tight underwear
He squirmed a lot
Underwear can really get you in a bind
You have seen the underwear ads
for men and women
so alike but so different
Women’s underwear holds things up
Men’s underwear holds things down
Underwear is one thing
men and women have in common
Underwear is all we have between us
You have seen the three-color pictures
with crotches encircled
to show the areas of extra strength
and three-way stretch
promising full freedom of action
Don’t be deceived
It’s all based on the two-party system
which doesn’t allow much freedom of choice
the way things are set up
America in its Underwear
struggles thru the night
Underwear controls everything in the end
Take foundation garments for instance
They are really fascist forms
of underground government
making people believe
something but the truth
telling you what you can or can’t do
Did you ever try to get around a girdle
Perhaps Non-Violent Action
is the only answer
Did Gandhi wear a girdle?
Did Lady Macbeth wear a girdle?
Was that why Macbeth murdered sleep?
And that spot she was always rubbing—
Was it really in her underwear?
Modern anglosaxon ladies
must have huge guilt complexes
always washing and washing and washing
Out damned spot
Underwear with spots very suspicious
Underwear with bulges very shocking
Underwear on clothesline a great flag of freedom
Someone has escaped his Underwear
May be naked somewhere
Help!
But don’t worry
Everybody’s still hung up in it
There won’t be no real revolution
And poetry still the underwear of the soul
And underwear still covering
a multitude of faults
in the geological sense—
strange sedimentary stones, inscrutable cracks!
If I were you I’d keep aside
an oversize pair of winter underwear
Do not go naked into that good night
And in the meantime
keep calm and warm and dry
No use stirring ourselves up prematurely
‘over Nothing’
Move forward with dignity
hand in vest
Don’t get emotional
And death shall have no dominion
There’s plenty of time my darling
Are we not still young and easy
Don’t shout