Shasta mountain rises over ten thousand feet above Mount Shasta, the town. I associated the town with with new age healers, bookstores, sweat lodges and retreats. I imagined a town left over from the 60s, lots of tie-dye, flowers, a place, as it's often billed, at the convergence of lines of power in the shadow of one of the most spectacular mountains in California.
I was half right.
The town must keep an uneasy truce between the new-agers on one side, and the Christians on the other. Along the main drag the shops alternate between far-out crystal and book shops, with various variations on Tarot or other modern card readings, to stores strongly proclaiming their Christian affiliation, topped by the Coffee Connection (with a cross in place of the "t"). The shop is staffed by volunteers, proceeds go to various churches. Wear tie-dye or a skull shirt and you will be treated nicely but get smaller servings than other customers. Or at least that was our experience.
Our first (and so far only) trip to Shasta was on July 4th weekend, 1998. The town pulls out all the stops, with a street fair on all three days, a huge walk/fun-run on the fourth, and dinners at the town park put on by the various civic organizations. The Rotary Pasta Feed gave us visions of some hydraulicly powered auger type device. We elected to go to Lalo's Mexican American restaurant for dinner instead (Decent food, good service, weak Margeritas).
Beyond the views, which, true to the experience in most places are better a bit further away from the scenery, the reason we come to a placde like this is the hiking. This season was wetter than usual, so the snow started between 6 and 7 thousand, and since an ice axe and crampons, not to mention some avalanche training and forest service permits, were necessary above 10,000 feet to the summit, and since we're a bunch of ocean level breathers, we stayed pretty low. The area has been fairly heavily selectively logged, giving lots of fire roads which peter off into trails. Some mapped, some not. Cars are allowed on many of them (be careful, clearance could be tricky), mountain bikes could be fun too.
It's not worth taking a camera. I did, just to get pictures I could use on a web page, but there are many photographers up there who are willing to take the time to get pictures of Shasta in all of the perfect sunset light, or with just the right cloud formation forming off the summit (some great round spaceship looking ones) and you'd do much better with one of their many postcards or posters.
Dinner the second night was at Serge's, overall a great dining experience with excellent food, although the garlic was a little old and Catherine complained later about the garlic on my breath. We normally eat it like a vegetable, so that's saying something.
An interesting contrast to the city of Mount Shasta is Weed, about 5 miles north. Clearly at one point Weed had the upper hand, the buildings are nicer, done in a western motif, but it's clear that the decline of the lumber industry has taken its toll. Where Shasta is vibrant and full, Weed has lots of space for rent, a couple of boarded up windows, and has definitely seen better days.
On the way back, we stopped at Dunsmuir, known mainly for its trout fishing and railroad affiliations, it used to be called Pusher for the engines which assisted the trains up the grade to the north. It's got a wonderful botanical garden that's well worth a look, and although the museum is quite cluttered and filled with disarray it's very worth a stop and a couple of bucks in the donation box.
Also in that area is Castle Crags state park. A must see if you're in to large textured pieces of granite, not quite as spectacular as Yosemite for the scale, but the rock is much more interesting for the texture. Highly recommended, if quite a bit more populated.
Monday, August 31st, 1998 danlyke@flutterby.com