With the exception of Glacier Peak, I know Crater Lake as well as anyplace in the Cascades. It's a mystical spot, the deepest lake in North America and the seventh deepest lake in the world. I first saw the lake as a child and, as luck would have it, I worked there as a tour guide and boat operator in the early '70s.
As a child, the family would camp at Diamond Lake and drive up to the rim of the lake. It's called "Crater Lake," but it's actually a caldera. The "crater," if you will, is on top of Wizard Island. The lake has been in existence for slightly more that 6,600 years, but the mountain has been there much longer.
In his book The Best of Oregon, UO School of Journalism professor and author, Ken Metzler, lists Crater Lake as number one on the "Seven Natural Wonders of Oregon." He notes: "(the natives who) were ever wise in environmental matters, left Crater Lake alone." The Klamath and Modoc natives feared the curse of Llao.
In 2002, on the 100th anniversary of the establishment of Crater Lake National Park, the Park Service held a reunion for former employees of the federal government and the concessionaire(s) over the years. A gaggle of us were in attendance (below). As when I was a child, we camped at Diamond Lake and enjoyed the reunion.
For a compelling read (and we have plenty of time for that right now), check out "Ghostuster's Daughter" by Violet Ramis Stiel. Most of us know Harold Ramis as the writer, director and actor who brought warmth and humor to the big screen in classics like Animal House, Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation and Groundhog Day.
To his daughter, Violet, he was an amazing father, confidante and friend. In her book, she reflects on his life and legacy, providing readers with a candid and insightful look into one of the people who helped shape modern American comedy. But enough blathering: here is a list of her reflections on my favorite Harold Ramis movies.
Animal House: "Watching the film now, I find it fascinating how quickly culture can change. What seemed innocently edgy then is borderline horrifying now. Would anyone laugh today at a thirteen-year-old girl getting dead drunk at a frat party and being returned home, naked, in a shopping cart?" (In a word, "no.")
Caddyshack: "It came on the heels of the success of Animal House and offered my dad and Doug Kenney another chance at developing their natural brand of what my dad called institutional comedy -- basically youth revolting against the establishment. After Animal House, Dad and Doug expected Caddyshack to be a hit, which it wasn't."
Stripes: "Russell Ziskey (Ramis) is my personal favorite of all my dad's on-screen roles, because I can really see him acting. Even though he is playing Bill's reasonable sidekick, he is clearly doing his version of 'cool.' Next time you watch Stripes, notice all the head bobbing, sly glances and the many small gestures and expressions."
Ghostbusters: "Such an iconic movie, it created an enormous and passionate fan base. My dad received ardent letters from awkward brainy people (and those who loved them) from all over the world. Even years later, Ghostbusters was the thing that my dad was most often recognized for and asked about."
Groundhog Day: "Groundhog Day is probably the most widely loved and respected film of my father's career. It makes every list of great movies and was embraced by religious leaders of all stripes. The film broke the friendship between my dad and Bill Murray. Bill, to his credit, eventually did come around toward the end.
Opposite Mt. Thielsen to the west of Diamond Lake is Mt. Bailey, a relatively young shield volcano. It's not much of a climb, but it does provide a five-mile hiking trail with access to the summit. I've climbed it several times with various members of The Committee. We typically camp at Diamond Lake, near Crater Lake.
The origin of the name is a matter of debate. Some maps show "Old Baldy." Others show "Old Bailey." It's a popular hiking site due to the relative ease of the climb. In "A Climbing Guide to Oregon," it's rated as a Grade 1-1. From Diamond Lake (below), take USFS roads 284 and 2807 to the end of the road. It's a piece of cake.
More rude notes from the field: Here at the GonzoPR blog, we take our news seriously. We believe the coronavirus has become pandemic. As such, I made a quick call to Ramona Vallindaklopf, our valued correspondent currently holed up in the Hotel Columbo.
JM: "Ramona, Italy has been shut down, for all intents and purposes. Further, we seem to be getting conflicting reports from those in positions of authority. What can you tell us?"
RV: "It's true, JM. This is very serious. I was talking to friends nearby in the hill country. They say: 'We are in a bad situation. The coronavirus surrounds us. At this moment, police are inviting us to not leave our houses. Of course, we live up here in the woods. Hopefully, we will be okay as long as we stay put.'"
JM: "Thanks, Ramona. Let's plan on another call soon and we'll bring in Wolfgang Majoris in Bangkok, Thailand and your beloved twin brother, Helmut Vallindaklopf, in Washington, D.C.
Unique to the Oregon Cascades is a series of high pinnacles whose sheer pointed summits remind travelers of Switzerland's Matterhorn. Two of these spires can be seen from almost anywhere along the rim of Crater Lake, Union Peak (7,698 feet) to the south and Mt. Thielsen (9,178 feet) to the north. Along with various and sundry members of The Committee, I have climbed the peak twice, both from the easy side.
The climbing is very good from Diamond Lake, until you reach "chicken point." From there, its a free climb with good hand holds to the summit. On top, it's evident why Mt. Thielsen is call the "Lightning Rod Of The Cascades." Strikes dot the surface, leaving a random pattern of volcanic glass. It's kinda creepy on top. You must hunker.
The following is a major GonzoPR retrospective. It features a "long been lost but now I've been found" article I wrote when my business cards read: "The Write Stuff." I was a poor, but eager, aspiring writer, and I interviewed my longtime colleague and friend, Kelly Tjaden. But enough chit-chat. Let's get this show on the road.
Dawn breaks early in the "land of the midnight sun." A lone seaway kayaker glides quietly in his craft across Glacier Bay in Alaska, a national park known as the undisputed mecca for saltwater paddlers from around the world. Suddenly, a huge wall of ice breaks off from a nearby glacier, careening into the bay below.
Sea kayaking is not new by any means. For centuries, the sea kayak was a vessel essential to inhabitants of the northern latitudes. Modeleled after the large, long-distance traveling kayaks used to transport whole families, goods and sled dogs, the modern sea-touring kayak is designed to carry its passengers safely.
"Watching the evolution of the modern sea kayak shows an ongoing process," said Tjaden. He said the number of specialty shops had proliferated. "We have rediscovered old knowledge and combined it with new technology to produce an inherently seaworthy boat. It's basically many things rolled into one."
Diamond Peak was named by John Diamond, who was in a group that located a wagon road up the middle fork of the Willamette River and over Willamette Pass. Diamond first scaled the peak in 1852. I scaled the peak several times, initially in 1982, along with many of my cohorts on The Committee.
Both established routes to the summit are easy, but the best route is from the south, which follows a jeep trail from Crescent Lake to Summit Lake, south of the peak. The hike proceeds over a well-worn trail to the summit. Diamond Peak is yet another volcano that straddles the line between Klamath and Lane Counties.
Reaching an elevation of 8,748 feet, the mountain is within the Diamond Peak Wilderness, located 20 miles north of Mt. Bailey and Diamond Lake. A shield volcano, Diamond Peak is also considered a modest stratocone. It is surrounded by coniferous forest (and in the summer, bugs) and visible in the skyline from Eugene.
