Black Butte

After the great winter storm
Shastina on the left, Mt. Shasta on the right 

Today, I was supposed to stand on the summit of Mt. Shasta.  It had been my plan for months to begin last Sunday, camp at 7,000’, climb to 10,000’, camp, and climb to the summit today.  But a funny thing happened on my way to the top, and fortunately I learned about it in time.  A winter storm hit hard on Sunday.  Yes a winter storm in June.  It dumped a lot of snow, and winds hit ninety miles an hour with temperatures far too cold for these tootsies.  The ranger warned me that it would be an unusually strong storm for this time of year.  Today, I saw the mountain for the first time since Saturday, and from this picture you can see what a white wonder it has become.

I returned to the place where I took the picture on June 2 (picture on the left) with which I described my proposed route to the summit.  On the right is today’s picture with only a few clouds to hide the great amount of snow that fell, and how happy I am that I did not go as planned.  

This morning’s forecast showed high winds and low temperatures, with a chance of snow, and no improvement for the next few days.  A bit disappointed, I decided to rearrange my outings here in Dunsmuir and hope for better weather on the mountain.  When you are an adolescent with only four days lived in a life expectancy of thirty days, you can put things off.

Black Butte

So today I visited a volcanic eruption, one that happened about  nine thousand years ago.  Black Butte, just north on Mt. Shasta Town is what often remains of volcanoes that lose their heat.  A plug of pasty lava welled up into the vent, sealing it and building a rounded dome.  Its flanks no longer fume and burn, but are reduced to aprons of steep talus, like rubble heaps.

An old tree
plastered white
with another snow
climbs the mountain
with juveniles. 

Near the summit of Black Butte
 remains of an untimely winter storm 

Little rock stars
with white faces
volcanic remnants  

Summit of Black Butte

The snowstorm is not completely over

Mount Shasta

by Lee Collins

Disarming in its stormy veil

that makes us gasp

Shasta is charming in disguise

cloaked in vast chilly smiles

it lifts its misty mask

like a costumed guest

at an unending party

of dancing clouds

pausing for applause . . .

a handsome phantom

in tuxedo cape

But as with a person

who really knows?

there’s always another hot layer

of masquerade beneath that

cool role of impersonate

beneath decades of formal snow

a passionate volcano lies in wait

a gigolo incognito

hidden to delight

to captivate

to devastate

Mt. Shasta City along I-5 from Black Butte

Mt. Shasta from Black Butte

White fluffy in the sky, some soft, some hard