Lava Beds’ Caves Reveal Strange Underground Wonders

We squeezed through a crack in the rock and entered a world darker than night. Onward and deeper our group went, sliding down ice on the seats of our pants, crawling over and around boulders of long-hardened lava, stopping only to probe with our beams of light and wonder what planet we really were on.

A stranger place we had never been. Towering waterfalls were frozen in time, created over the years by moisture seeping in and solidifying in temperatures that are constantly below freezing.

Sprouting from the floor of magnificent Crystal Cave--one of hundreds of lava tubes meandering beneath this strangely beautiful national park in northeastern California--were peculiar formations of ice as clear and smooth as the finest crystal.

In one large den, more than 100 feet below the surface, these stalagmites were so numerous that they had to be negotiated with great care.

Onward and deeper we went, farther into the blackness, bashing our elbows and occasionally our heads, as thankful for helmets as we were our lights, finally able to go no farther, stopped by a large ice patch that could not be safely negotiated.

Beyond, glistening in our beams, were dozens of giant stalagmites, crystalline formations that looked almost alien in appearance. The longer we stared the more they seemed to be moving.

Our imaginations getting the best of us, we decided it was time to see and feel the sun again. Onward and higher, this time, we went, using our hands as well as our feet, through nearly 2,000 feet of passageways, finally squeezing back through the crack in the rock and into the “real” world, strange as even it was.

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The same intense volcanic activity that left the vast network of lava tubes that make up the monument’s “underworld” also created a rugged landscape punctuated by such features as cinder cones, spatter cones and pit craters.

Below ground or above, the scenery here is surreal, to say the least.

Lava Beds National Monument, encompassing 46,000 acres in an area just south of Tule Lake, has its caves, all right.

Crystal Cave, with its wonderful formations of ice and lava, is perhaps its crown jewel. But it’s only one of 439 lava tubes that have been explored and many others that have not.

The park boasts the greatest concentration of lava caves in the continental United States. Some are short, shallow and fairly featureless, whereas others are spectacular and seemingly endless. The Catacombs, for example, extend nearly 7,000 feet into what seems the bowels of earth.

The lava tubes were formed thousands of years ago, after a series of eruptions within the vast Medicine Lake shield volcano south of the present-day monument. As lava flowed, it formed channels and hardened first on the outer edges, creating roofs and then shells through which more lava flowed. The longer tubes were formed as a result of longer and steadier flows.

Many of the tubes were formed 30,000 years ago, after the eruption of Mammoth Crater immediately south of the monument. The last eruption was 10,000 years ago, further blanketing a region already layered with volcanic rock.

But caves and other interesting geological features are only some of the attractions. This region is a virtual paradise for wildlife watchers and history buffs.

Just north of the park--stretching well north of the Oregon border--is the expansive Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuge complex. Tule and Lower Klamath lakes, as well as the surrounding wetlands, attract millions of migrating waterfowl each spring and fall. Ducks, geese and swans often form clouds so thick that they cast shadows over the grasslands.

The area boasts the largest concentration of bald eagles in the contiguous United States. They share a bountiful supply of fish, rodents, waterfowl and carrion with other raptors, among them the golden eagle and several species of owl.

A drive on the nearby roads can offer numerous sightings of deer. Mountain lions prey on them. Bobcats, coyotes and snakes prefer rabbits, squirrels, rats and other small critters.

The monument also has several species of bats, which live and breed in the caves but pose no danger to visitors, park naturalists say.

It also has Captain Jack’s Stronghold. Captain Jack was the nickname bestowed upon Kientpoos, Native American leader of a band of Modocs during the Modoc War of 1872-73.

Before the flood of trappers and settlers arrived in the early 1800s, Modocs thrived in domed dwellings mostly along the shores of Tule Lake and Lost River, which feeds a lake that has since shrunk considerably, its water utilized by local farmers.

Fish and game were plentiful. Tule reeds were woven into baskets and even canoes. Men fished and hunted, and women did most of the gathering. Except for occasional skirmishes with other native peoples, life was fairly simple--until the settlers arrived.

Kit Carson guided John C. Fremont’s mapping expedition to the region in 1843 and had brief dealings with the Klamath Indians to the north. They came again in 1846 and their camp was raided by the Klamaths, who stole horses and killed four men. In retaliation, Carson mistakenly attacked a village of innocent natives.

Settlers, meanwhile, were staking claims to territory on the Lost River, and prospectors’ operations impacted salmon runs the Modocs and other natives relied on for sustenance.

The settlers made increasing demands that the government remove the Modocs, who were attacking wagon trains in defense of what they perceived to be their territory.

The government would not grant the Modocs title to any of their historic homeland and instead negotiated a treaty that placed them on a reservation with Klamaths and Paiutes, in former Klamath territory. It was a nightmare scenario, especially for the Modocs, who were treated poorly by the Klamaths.

One day, Captain Jack walked away with a band of followers and set up camp on the Lost River. They were persuaded to move back to the reservation, but walked away again, resettling in a river valley occupied by white settlers.

On Nov. 29, 1872, the Cavalry came to move the Modocs, by force if necessary, back to the reservation. Fighting broke out and the war had begun. The Modocs fled in separate bands as their villages were set ablaze. About 60 warriors, along with women, children and elderly, ended up in a natural fortress of lava along the southern shore of Tule Lake.

In these lava beds, they held off an army that eventually grew to 20 times their size for five months before all the Modocs had been captured by the spring of 1873. Captain Jack surrendered on June 1, 1873, and was hanged with three others four months later. Two Modocs were eventually imprisoned at Alcatraz and 153 were sent to a reservation in Oklahoma. More than 100 remained on the Klamath reservation.

The Modoc War was the only major Indian war waged in California, and the only Indian war in which a general was killed. Gen. E.R.S. Canby was shot by Captain Jack during peace negotiations. A replica of a memorial cross with the inscription “Gen. Canby U.S.A. Was Murdered Here by the Modocs April 11, 1873” stands not far from the old stronghold.

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Again, we stepped down, this time into a gaping hole in the ground and into a world steamy and green. Onward and deeper we went, following shafts of sunlight that illuminated a small forest of beautiful ferns.

Unlike Crystal Cave, Fern Cave is shallow and humid, kept so by warm, moist air rising through vents in the lava. A small frog leaped beneath the leaves in a little world it seemed to have all to itself.

How coastal ferns got here is still uncertain, but they add a nice touch to a cave that’s special to begin with. Fern Cave was used by natives as both a dwelling and spiritual site. It remains a holy site in the eyes of the Modocs, who still hold “vision quests” here.

On its walls are ancient pictographs, one of which is believed to illustrate the conjunction of a supernova and crescent moon in 1054.

A steel gate guards the entrance of this cave, which, unlike the vast majority of lava tubes, can be toured only in the company of a guide.

“We tell people it’s like going into someone’s church,” park naturalist Kelly Fuhrmann said.

So it felt as we walked quietly and respectfully during our inspection, eventually following the shafts of sunlight up and out, leaving the spirits--and the frog--to themselves.