Bumpass Hell

Two years ago when we went to yellowstone for our big summer trip, I was eager to see all manner of geothermal wonders, and I happily anticipated the stunned oohs and aahs of my children. In reality, most of the geothermal wonders were at the end of modest trails, and after the kicking and screaming my children put up on the first one, and their utter indifference to the sulpherous, bubbling sights at the end of it, I pretty much resigned myself to seeing only the thermal features with an adjacent parking lot, and those by myself.

But now, two summers later, this time at Lassen Volcanic National Park, I decided it was time to try again, and the whole family spend several hours going to the park's prime geothermal feature, Bumpass Hell, which is collection of mud pots and steam vents and sulphurous springs at the end of a mild 1.5 mile hike through the woods at the top of the volcano. Sounded reasonable.

After a lovely drive we got to the trailhead and set off.



The trail was fairly flat, but hugged the site of the mountain at spots, and everyone had to watch their footing. Parker was a trooper, and complained not one bit.



The girls started complaining about being tired pretty much immediately, but I was so determined to make this a pleasant family adventure that I offered to provide extended piggy back rides, which were gladly accepted. So I did nearly the whole hike out with one or the other of the girls on my back.



Happily, there were plenty of gorgeous places to stop to rest.




As well as a few good trees to climb.





We also found ourselves faced with patches of snow, which was a funny thing to find at the height of summer, and which of course called for throwing snowballs.






Rachel and Parker made their way forward while I kept the girls on point at the rear, and eventually we rounded a corner to be confronted with the telltale smell of sulphur. Both girls were extremely grumpy by this point, and when a nice lady offered to take a picture of us, I could only get Elizabeth into the frame.



Not sure how long the hike was down to the sites, I left the girls at the bench and headed down to find Rachel and Parker. They were just below, so I went ahead with Parker while Rachel went back for the girls.

Bumpass Hell did not disappoint. Parker and I went and scoped out the scene. They had a nice walkway, so we could see everything without danger of falling through anywhere. The place was named after the guy who found the place, Mr. Bumpass, who was not so fortunate on his first visit, and got burned for his troubles.



To the amazement some tourists, Parker and I put our hands in the hot runoff.



Did I mention the bubbling mudpots?



And the tourquoise hotsprings?



And the steam vents?



Eventually, Rachel and the girls showed up, and we would have gotten a cpomplete family photo if the old lady we enlisted had been less incompetent with an iPhone, but I got this one anyway, so there.



Miranda and I checked out the scenery while the others headed back up the trail.



And then we got to do the 1.5 miles back to the car, which would have been awful, but Rachel had the smart idea of letting the kids pick places to stop, which we did every 100 yards or so for 30 seconds or so, and that let them get through the whole thing with not too much whining. That, and more piggyback rides.




Once back to the car, we headed across the way to a lake for a picnic lunch and a dip in the cold, cold water.



Parker had to psych himself up for the experience.



But he got himself in.



And then got right back out.



Elizabeth was next.



And she stayed in as long as Parker had.



And Miranda, too.



On the drive back to our cabin, we stopped to take the perfect picture of the volcano. Here it is.



All in all, about as perfect day as you could hope for.