I Climbed the World’s Largest Plug-Dome Volcano

I am about to share one of my most epic life experiences.

So come with me as I take you uphill on a strenuous but absolutely unforgettable 5-mile hike to Lassen Peak, in Lassen Volcanic National Park, California.

I fell in love with this underrated National Park in Northern California earlier this year. It is one of the few places in the world where all four major types of volcanoes can be found :

plug dome, shield, cinder cone, and composite volcanoes.

While exploring the park, I saw its highest point – Lassen Peak – with its massive, jaw-dropping, crater-like top.

I have been fascinated by volcanoes since childhood. I have always wanted to see an active volcano erupting someday (from afar, obviously!)

So when I saw Lassen Peak for the first time, I couldn’t stop looking at it.

And somewhere in that moment, I just knew –

I am going to summit this one day!

To give you an idea of what we were about to climb, here are a few quick facts about Lassen Peak:

• It is the world’s largest plug-dome volcano.
• It is still considered an active volcano.
• It stands at 10,457 feet.
• Its most recent eruptive period ended in 1917.

So, yes. We were literally about to climb an active volcano!

And that day finally came : 9 August 2026 – A day I know I will remember forever.

We stayed in the little town of Chester, about 50 minutes from the Lassen Peak trailhead.

We found this cozy historic B&B – The Bidwell House which made the whole stay feel even more special.

We had driven about five hours from the city to get there, so after checking in, we went out to explore Lake Almanor. There was Lassen Peak – sitting quietly in the backdrop. We got one of those stunning sunsets that makes you stop whatever you are doing and just stare.

Our day ended with an early dinner at Aslan’s Mediterranean Grill and some sherry afterward. Just what we needed for a cozy evening before the big hike next morning.

We woke up early, geared up, and left the B&B with a beautiful pastel sunrise reflecting over the lake.

By around 7 a.m., we were at the trailhead, facing the mountain as it slowly woke up in the morning sun.

Water bottles? Check.

Liquid I.V.? Check.

Trail mix? Check.

Chocolates? Very important check!

The first mile was a gradual incline, dotted with a few pine trees. Little lavender lupine wildflowers were growing alongside the stark grey volcanic gravel of the trail.

I remember looking at them and thinking:

Maybe this is what resilience looks like.

How can something so delicate grow in a place that looks so harsh?

Beautiful.

As we climbed higher, the trail got steeper. More switchbacks. More incline.

Just to put things into perspective, we were gaining almost 2,000 feet in elevation – starting at around 8,500 feet and climbing all the way to 10,457 feet.

And yes, somewhere around halfway up, our muscles started complaining (at least mine did!)

But the higher we went, the more the landscape opened up around us.

We could see emerald and turquoise alpine lakes far below. Nutcracker birds and squirrels became our little companions along the way.

And then there were so many friendly hikers who would smile, say hi, cheer each other on and keep moving. There is something about hiking that makes complete strangers feel like they are all on the same team. I guess when you are all suffering together, you might as well cheer each other on.

At one of the switchbacks, we came across an incredible view of a side of Lassen that had been carved by a glacier extending about 7 miles from the mountain top thousands of years ago.

Seeing that enormous path carved into the landscape was surreal. I suddenly felt very, very small.

And weirdly, I started thinking about time. How long this mountain has been here.

How much geological activity had to happen to create what I was standing on.

How glaciers had slowly carved their way through this landscape long before any of us existed.

And how tiny our own problems can feel when you look at something like this. I think I started respecting time a little more in that moment.

Meanwhile, our bodies were making it very clear that this was not an easy hike.

The muscle burn was starting to show on our faces, and between us, we had already gulped down almost 3 liters of water.

It was strenuous but the continuous gush of cool mountain wind made it bearable.

And then we saw the sign:

You are 0.5 miles from the peak.

Suddenly, there was a fresh gush of excitement. We were almost there.

Little did I know that we were about to experience something completely magical.

Out of nowhere, butterflies started flying around us.

Hundreds.

Then thousands.

And trust me – I am NOT exaggerating.

For a moment, I genuinely didn’t understand where all these tiny creatures were coming from.

Then we realized we were witnessing the famous butterfly migration at Lassen Peak.

Thousands quickly became what felt like lakhs, and suddenly we were standing in the middle of the most beautiful, fragile butterfly storm.

I don’t think I have ever experienced anything quite like it. We just stood there for a while. Surrounded by butterflies. Completely mesmerized.

We reached the false summit huffing and puffing, and suddenly Mt. Shasta appeared in the distance in all its glory. But then came one of the most iconic moments of the entire hike for me.

The volcanic crater of Lassen Peak was right in front of us with Mt. Shasta sitting perfectly in the backdrop.

One glance and I just froze.

This image is going to stay with me forever.

We took a few deep breaths of that crisp mountain air and prepared ourselves for the final 200 feet stretch. The last section involved a bit of Class 2 scrambling toward the true summit. Nothing crazy, but definitely the kind of terrain where you slow down, watch your footing, and pay attention.

Slow and steady, as they say!

And finally…..

We reached the summit – 10,457 feet

And there it was – Mr. Lassen

That moment – I am standing on top of an active volcano.

I felt emotional.

Not simply because I had finished a difficult hike. Standing there made me think about how small this life actually is. Anything can happen. Anytime. We spend so much time worrying about things that feel enormous in our everyday lives.

Deadlines.

Plans.

Things going wrong.

Things not happening fast enough.

And then you stand on top of a volcano, surrounded by mountains shaped over unimaginable amounts of time, and suddenly those things don’t seem quite as big anymore.

You just want to enjoy life.

The highs.

The lows.

The uncertainty.

Everything.

Just go with the flow.

I looked into that massive crater and tried to imagine what this place must have looked like when Lassen was erupting.

The sheer magnitude of nature was humbling.

What are our modern-day problems compared with mountains being built, destroyed, frozen, eroded and reshaped over thousands and millions of years? We are tiny humans standing on a tiny planet. And yet we spend so much of our lives stressing about everything. Standing there, I just wanted to breathe and take it all in.

Of course, after all that deep thinking; our stomachs started growling. So naturally, we had a little Starbucks date on top of a volcano. Because apparently that’s what you do after climbing an active volcano.

We sat there, ate, and took in the views from every direction.

The glacier-carved landscape.

The steep slopes.

The pristine alpine lakes.

The enormous crater.

The mountains disappearing into the distance.

And just…BEING there at 10,457 feet. Feeling your heartbeat. Feeling the wind.

Looking around and realizing — I am actually here.

Truly a ZNMD moment.

And maybe that is what I love most about mountains. They don’t really give you answers. They just have a way of making your problems feel smaller. They remind you that nature is insanely powerful. That our time here is short.

And that sometimes, you just need to stop thinking so much…..and go live.

So yes…..

I climbed an active volcano.

And I think a small part of me is still standing there at 10,457 feet, looking into that crater and feeling incredibly lucky to have experienced it.