AN ADVENTURE IN LASSEN VOLCANIC NATIONAL PARK

A cool forest of jeffrey pine frames a golden meadow. Deer rustle unseen in the underbrush. A waterfall spills free, while a nearby lake boils at 125°F.

Welcome to Lassen Volcanic National Park, the site of some of the West's most curious natural phenomena couched in spectacular outdoor splendor.

There's something here for everyone. Fishing, swimming, hiking; uncrowded campgrounds as well as furnished cabins. And for adventurers there are the awesome volcanic forces of the "Rim of Fire," the circle of volcanoes that rings the Pacific Ocean and includes Lassen Peak, Mount Rainier, and Mauna Loa in Hawaii.

Lassen Peak is the only volcano in the conterminous U.S. to erupt in recent times. On May 30, 1914, without warning, the volcano came noisily to life, and over a seven year period deposited fire and lava over the immediate area. The countryside is full of telltale reminders of the massive forces which lurk below the surface. Lassen Volcanic National Park is not a place you're likely to forget.

Our family stayed at Lassen Park Lodge early last summer. Nestled among the red fir, the lodge offers fine food, a gift shop, general store, and the Manzanita Lake Visitor Center with exhibits on the history and geology of this fascinating volcano country.

Climbing Lassen Peak. We simply couldn't come to Lassen Park without hiking up Lassen Peak. The leisurely afternoon climb began at 8,500 feet and ended two hours later at the absolute summit: 10,457 feet.

It is not a tough climb. The switchback trail zigzags gently up the mountain's ridge with magnificent views at every turn. The mountain is mostly volcanic, but occasional sprinklings of knotweed, silverleaf lupine and alpine pussytoes add a dab of color.

At the summit is a dazzling snow field that rises spirit-like out of the crater and cascades in stop-action from the rim. We also found the surveyor's medallions showing the elevation: a discovery well-earned.

Though Lassen is the highest peak in the park, the ghost of a former great volcano still lingers. Tens of thousands of years ago Mount Tehama rose over 13,000 feet to dominate the southern Cascades. But cataclysmic earthquakes drained the mountain of hot magma, and the giant collapsed in upon itself. Brokeoff Mountain and Mount Diller are part of mighty Tehama's remains.

A descent into Bumpass Hell. That same day we found out what Hell looked like. The first indication of something "brewing" was a vague smell of sulphur that alerted us when we were still on the trail. Then suddenly in the clearing we saw it. Almost lost at times in clouds of steam that swirled in the basin below us was Bumpass Hell.

Keeping cautiously on the trail we descended into this strange, barren hydrothermal landscape. The ground hissed menacingly as steam escaped from vents, and there were boiling pools everywhere. Signs cautioned not to venture too close to the pools. They didn't have to tell us twice.

Another sound caught our ears -- the "glop, glop" of a mudpot. The hot, gray mud bubbled erratically like an aquatic monster from a late-night horror movie. All these weird sounds were played to the violent accompaniment of Steam Engine -- a furious, roaring, superheated hot spring that engulfed us in mist.

As we climbed the path back into the gentle countryside, we heard the Devil's laughter following us from Bumpass Hell.

At least, we think we did.

Cinder Cone and the Fantastic Lava Beds. We made the trip to Butte Lake in 45 minutes. Lost in the twilight of the giant pine, we looked over the water to what seemed like a monstrous pile of coal. Except it wasn't coal but large chunks of rock spilling right into the lake. The Fantastic Lava Beds. We simply stood and stared for a while. We had never seen anything so heavy-looking before, so massive.

The 1 1/2 mile walk to Cinder Cone takes you through a pretty wooded area full of jeffrey and lodgepole pine. The ground is black and granular; the volcanic cinders blanket the area completely. Cinder Cone rose before us, 700 feet high. Like climbing a sand dune, it was slow going. The trick is to look for existing footprints and use them for leverage. Otherwise, your feet slide on the granular trail. Still, stopping frequently for a breather kept the trip from becoming overly tiring.

At the summit we took a moment to admire the multi-colored lava fields that fanned out before us like a painted desert. Then we descended into the crater itself, sliding and slipping on the cinder trail.

Walking at the bottom of the crater made a dry rasping sound as porous rocks rubbed against each other. Not a person, not a living thing was in sight. The giant was asleep, and we were walking across his brow.

A country so vast, so beautiful. You never have to walk very far to find the other secret of Lassen Volcanic National Park. Simple beauty. We ambled through meadows of summer flowers blooming in wild profusion -- wallflower, pink heather, brewer mountainheath, and lupine. Gentle brooks crisscross the countryside. Any one could have been the perfect setting for our picnic. The icy water is great for cooling feet.

We took a relaxing stroll through the dappled forest to Cold Boiling Springs where gas from underground vents bubbles endlessly through the otherwise quiet water. Other self-guiding trails lead to 125° Boiling Springs Lake. Or to parts of the Old Emigrant Trail.

The deer are everywhere in Lassen Park. Many times we saw ten or twelve grazing in an open field. One even came over to say hello.

Many of the park's most spectacular sights are conveniently just off the highway. The Sulphur Works, a miniature Bumpass Hell, sends clouds of steam across the roadway. There's Chaos Jumbles. Devastated Area. And a living monument -- Mrs. Selena LaMarr, a full-blooded Atsugewi Indian who recounts fascinating bits of Indian past at the Manzanita Lake Visitor Center.

(The rest of the brochure gives details on hotel accommodations and activities.)