If you’ve ever wondered what it smells like when the earth burps, Lassen Volcanic National Park is here to answer that question in vivid, nose-singeing detail.
Once upon a very steamy time (around 1915), Mount Lassen blew its top—literally—and became the most recent volcano in the continental U.S. to erupt before Mount St. Helens stole the spotlight decades later. The eruption left behind bubbling mud pots, gurgling hot springs, and an aroma that could peel paint off a camper. The early park promoters probably described it as “a geothermal wonder.” More accurately, it smells like a thousand rotten eggs.
Naturally, we went to see it up close. Because why wouldn’t Pretty Penny Adventurers like standing in clouds of volcanic fart mist, right? We followed the trail signs that said “Caution: Boiling Mud” — which, in hindsight, should’ve been enough to make us turn back. But curiosity won out. And the sight of those sulfur vents puffing away like a dragon with indigestion was weirdly mesmerizing. It’s like watching Mother Nature’s version of a jacuzzi—if your jacuzzi could melt your flip-flops.
Back at the campground, the air was (thankfully) less fragrant and the vibe infinitely friendlier. That’s where we met Marji, the campground’s unofficial artist-in-residence and absolute gem of a human being. While doing due diligence researching her backstory for this blog (I googled her), I discovered she is a regionally and nationally renowned artist. She was lovely, lively, and blissfully unaware of most of what we said—she couldn’t hear a lick. We’d chat about the steam vents or the stars, and she’d smile, nod, and then show us another one of her gorgeous watercolors, or pastels. Communication was mostly a cross between charades and interpretive dance, but somehow it worked. With a smile and grace, she gifted us a few of her notecards before we left.
Lassen feels like the kind of place Bigfoot might hang out—soaking his feet in a sulfur pool, wondering why humans keep sniffing around his spa.
We left that day with our eyes watering from the sulfur, our hair smelling like a science experiment, and our hearts full. Lassen may not be glamorous, but it’s got personality—steamy, smelly, beauty, and unpredictable personality.
And as for Marji, I can still picture her sitting quietly at her picnic table, creating art with children of the campground, as if the world around her made perfect sense.
Lesson learned: beauty comes in all forms—sometimes it just smells like sulfur, grows tall, runs wild, or, sometimes, it lies in a small, unremarkable campground in California.
Pretty Penny Adventures 
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