Photographing and writing about lenticular formations around Mount Shasta has always been one of my favorite things about this website. Lenticulars are grand formations and fleeting. They and majesty and beauty to Mount Shasta but then are gone, never to be seen again. In that way, they are like spectacular snowflakes, each unique and never duplicated.
It has seemed to me that for the last few years, the grand displays have not happened as frequently as they did for the first several years I lived in Mount Shasta. From October through April one always anticipated three or four really magnificent events and several smaller, but still awesome, formations as well. The really big ones just seem fewer and further between. Anecdotally, I had to go all the way back to the beginning of April to find a post on this site dedicated solely to a lenticular event. There have been some good ones since, but nothing that rose to the level of warranting a dedicated post. Thankfully, that drought has finally come to an end!
Before getting there, please allow me to backup a bit.
We finally got some good snow. I had about 2 feet at my house last weekend. I continued to head out and play with my new lens, really trying to explore Mount Shasta’s geography up close. There’ll be more on that later. The great thing was Mount Shasta was icy and forbidding but glowed welcomingly in the sunlight. The fresh snow really highlights the mountain’s terrain.
The storm came in two waves. The first deposited a lot of snow in the Shasta Valley. I had hoped it might last long enough to get a snowy shot from Echo Point but that was not to be. The second wave of the snow was warmer in the valley and the snow melted. However, the meager reflection pools were swelled by rain and melted snow.
I went out to the valley to investigate the reflection. When I arrived, the wind was fierce, rendering any chance for a reflection shot moot, despite the fact that the pools had grown to expansive size. I decided to sit and wait for just a bit, waiting to see if the wind died down. I reckoned that if nothing else, the sunset would provide another opportunity to play with the new telephoto lens.
I certainly did that! Without much warning, a small wisp of slipstream trailing off of Mount Shasta’s summit began to grow into a disk and then proceeded to form stacks. I had not anticipated a lenticular at this time, but a small but excellent formation had suddenly been made manifest.
Given it’s small size and proximity to Mount Shasta, this was indeed a great opportunity to play with the lens, allowing more detail on both mountain and cloud. Looking up close, the clean lines of the lenticular are a dramatic contrast to the gnarled crags of Mount Shasta. Getting a good look at both in detail was rather exciting.
As the sunlight crept upward on the mountain, the last bit turning color before darkness descended, the lenticular began to grow. As it did, it’s clean lines became more indistinct. The size did manage to catch more light, making the last bits of alpenglow a beautiful spectacle until, with no warning, the light was gone. It had been an unexpected but excellent sunset!
Two days later, a large storm was arriving, forecasted to bring over three inches of rain. A system of this fury meant the potential for interesting things to happen in the sky around Mount Shasta. However, it also meant that the sky might be too stormy to permit any light through to make it interesting. A delicate balance in conditions that make capturing images a frustrating endeavor at times.
I headed out to the pools in the valley and found the air still enough for a bit of a reflection. Sure enough, there was a bit of a lenticular cap covering the upper flanks of Mount Shasta. More importantly, a massive cloud was taking shape to the northeast of the mountain. This one had potential, if the conditions would permit it.
As the morning progressed, the light actually improved considerably. The massive cloud hovering near the mountain loomed but lacked impressive shape. However, the cap on the mountain had developed really clear layers and was starting to glow in the morning light. While I like these kinds of lenticulars, they are not my favorite, generally speaking, since I can’t see most of the mountain.
Admittedly, this one looked better than many of its ilk, since had a variety of layers of different sizes and the layers had good definition. These kinds of clouds are always in flux, its shape constantly changing. Though they retain an overall appearance, all their smaller details can be different in an instant. This specimen was fun to look at through the telephoto, especially since landmarks like rugged Casaval Ridge added a lot of interest beneath the waves.
By the afternoon, the situation had been completely reversed. The cloud on Mount Shasta had lost all of its definition, forming a gauzy layer just above the summit. Furthermore, the mountain was completely in shadow, with no light hitting it whatsoever. The situation could not have been more different with the looming formation to the northeast. Where before it was lacking much shape, it now was a colossal stack of disks. Beneath the stack was a roiling layer of cloud that was racked with great turbulence. The entire seen was epic. It had been a long, long time since I have seen a cloud of this magnitude form near Mount Shasta.
As sunset approached, I headed back to the pools in the Shasta Valley. Not surprisingly, the pools were not offering much reflection due to the wind. However, the view was fantastic, as the cloud over Mount Shasta had a more appealing form from the north and the giant stack hovering nearby was absorbing the late afternoon light. The entire seen was astonishing. Truly, this is a land of giants.