Oregon

A loud, uncuth and incongruously adamant sound wake me up. Abhay's phone kept ringing long after I was out of the tent. I slept surprisingly well in my jungle abode. Maybe it was my sleeping bag. Or probably it was the pillow I carried this time. The morning sun was shining through the conifers. The dancing sunbeams you never see in the civilised world were the harbingers of a great morning. I decided to check the trail at the back of our campground. The temperature wasn't really low but it was enough to make me put on two layers of warm clothing and a woolen cap. With my canon SD600 in my hand, I set out to explore the Annie Creek canyon trail. The campground is organised in five loops. We were in loop D. At the end of the loop, close to the trailhead lies an amphitheater. I would see a band playing guitars and drums here when I return. The trail descends into the canyon bed briskly at first and then quite sharply. The brook at the bottom was music to the ears and a treat to the eyes. I was reminded of lines from one of Lord Alfred Tennyson's Poems "For men may come and men may go but I go on for ever". For a moment I thought I heard a bear nearby. But quickly dismissed this as my imagination running wild. After taking a few pictures, I decided to turn back. Two easy-chairs, kept on the trail close to a campsite and facing the canyon were reminiscent of the lifestyle that is distinctly American. "These people know how to live life", I found myself saying.

Camping is a refreshing activity for urban dwellers. Away from the hustle of automobiles, highways and buildings, the jungle can provide quite a respite from the busy city life. A day in the woods is enough to make you realise how dependent we have become on machines for our day-to-day lives. Without dish washers, washing machines, air conditioners, electricity, phone, internet and elaborate buildings around us, it's easy to get a little meditative and contemplative. The basic survival questions stare us in the face. So, here we were getting ready to light the campfire. Creating fire is no cakewalk. Trust me; even with matches at hand you require a lot of skill to keep the flame steady enough to ignite the twigs. The campfire set the mood for the evening. Few things in life rival the joy of wine and crackers beside a warm orange flame - especially when the ambiance is cold. The latent musical abilities in us had found their catalyst. Renditions from Kishore Kumar to Elvis Presley were in the air. The problem of unleashing the creative genius in someone had found a solution in the Crater Lake national park. But music is not all that we explored. We cooked noodles and omelettes and brewed tea. But arguably the best part was when Arun led Dhanashree to a waltz while Deepak played Elvis' "are you lonesome tonight" on his guitar.

To say that Crater Lake takes you by surprise would be an understatement. It takes a while for your cerebrum to register that the deep blue thing your eyes are seeing is indeed water. At close to two thousand feet, it is the deepest lake in the US and the third deepest in the world. And this is not the only record it holds. As we were to learn later on our boat trip, this lake also has the clearest water as measured by the underwater visibility. The serenity surrounding this place defies its turbulent volcanic history. But the signs of a formerly active volcano can be seen everywhere. From the phantom's ship to the Wizard island. It's truly like peeking into the guts of a gigantic volcanic carcass. Peeking into the lake from its rim feels like looking into a giant cauldron - a fitting epithet I heard the park rangers use too. Saturday evening offered spectacular views of the lake. The dusk crimson sky and its reflection in the lake was a priceless sight. The quality of the pictures we took really surprised me - given the unsophisticated nature of my camera and my being a rookie photographer. The Crater Lake Lodge too had a unique character. It appeared to me to be a building from another time. Giant fireplaces; wooden floors, columns and staircases.

The drive was indeed long, and we had our fare share of traffic jams. But the scenery on the way was rewarding enough to balance the pains of the choked highways. The snow capped Mount Shasta is one sight that was truly awe inspiring. We took countless pictures from various points on the road. Then there was this pizza place we stopped at for dinner. It had this calm of a village restaurant. The pizzas were as good as the waitresses but the ambiance was unusually quiet. Even the large projection television seemed to be silent. I guess they had it on mute - why, I wouldn't know. There were not a whole lot of people in there and it felt almost meditative. Dinner talk wandered over crabs, lobsters and other arcane creatures people eat. For vegetarians like me, they are as alien as the little green men. Although Arun tried his best to explain how crabs and fishes taste, my blissfully oblivious taste buds didn't quite get the idea. Then the neon sign that spelled the restaurant's name went off. I guess it was time for them to call it a day but customers didn't seem like they were in a hurry. As we scurried out of the restaurant I was almost convinced it was haunted. Overall the trip was a memorable one.

-Vikas

Sept 7, 2006