Crater Lake

After spending a few days in Applegate Oregon at Seb's aunt Marlene's house with her boyfriend Francois, a French expatriate, self-proclaimed existentialist and chain-smoker, we headed west to Crater Lake. The lake, which is hidden in the folds of the Cascade Mountain range, lies in a volcanic basin that was created over 7,000 years ago when Mount Mazama collapsed with a massive eruption. It is the deepest, purest lake in the world and the blue of the water shocks you like ice. The color is so stunningly rich, it looks the deepest blue waters of the Caribbean flowed right through a cloudless summer sky in the thick of summer. For the Klamath Indians, whose stories recall the collapse of the old mountain, the lake was a sacred place. They say the mountain bluebird was gray until he dipped under the cobalt lake and came out flying. They kept the lake's whereabouts hidden until a couple of gold prospectors stumbled upon it-- still, deep blue, barren of fish, and seemingly bottomless. Looking out from the cliff where those prospectors first saw this wonder, I feel like the Klamath Indians were right to keep it secret. It's so clear, so blue, so pure, it almost seems like it would turn to poison if we tried to touch it.