Washington Odyssey: Mount Saint Helens

July 3
We started our first Mount St. Helens day at the nearby Silver Lake Visitors Center. It has a number of good exhibits, of which I took no pictures. The most memorable part of the visit was the local artists' show in one of their rooms. Elisabeth was particularly taken with a painting of Mt. Hood, of which she has many memories, but there was a technical glitch. The credit card reader had been set up in online, rather than offline, mode. Because it was now unconnected (no phone line), there was no way to convince it to process the transaction, despite repeated attempts. The written instructions left for the artist staffing the exhibit this morning were of no help. Digging into our pockets, we four managed to collectively solve this problem by paying cash. Now Elisabeth had the painting, which we would painstakingly pack into the car trunk three times: this day, the day we drove to Mt. Rainier, and the day we drove back to Richland.

Then we continued east towards the mountain. Unless you obtain the necessary permit, you are not allowed climb Mount St. Helens (some people do), so the approaches are limited to the west and east sides. Here's a roadside map that focuses on our approach:

The eastern sections, including the Windy Ridge Viewpoint at the terminus of Forest Road 99, were still closed for snow. Today we would explore areas before the mountain on State Route 504, and dedicate tomorrow to the mountain.

Our first stop after the visitors center was the Forest Learning Center, which is not part of the National Monument, but a cooperative effort of Weyerhaeuser Company, Washington State Department of Transportation and the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. Weyerhaeuser has extensive timber holdings in the area, many of which were affected by the blast. We didn't have the time to explore the exhibits, but ate our lunch outdoors and pondered the North Fork of the Toutle River, which was inundated by the ash and mudflows of the volcanic eruption. After 31 years, the vegetation has made a comeback.

Looking east, you can see the stream emerging from the wastelands at the foot of Mount St. Helens.

With binoculars there is a wealth of detail to be seen. Here is zoom photo from the same spot, revealing the extreme sinuosity of the watercourse.

From the center we drove on, past the now-shuttered Coldwater Ridge Visitors Center, to hike the Hummocks Trail. This is an opportunity to walk among the mounds and ravines of mud, stone, and ash and see the varying responses of the flora and fauna, which are returning faster than originally predicted. In places there are tall hummocks ...

where the sides are too steep to resist erosion. There are also partially exposed remnants of the forest that was here before May 18, 1980.

Sometimes the trail takes a turn to frame the mountain.

The water, especially during storms and spring melt, carves and slices the loosely packed terrain, creating slopes, wrinkles, and folds, while the plant life strives to anchor the ground.

Some of the cuts expose the stratigraphy of the flows, and how thin the green layer is.

Harry Glicken earned his doctorate mapping these flows, which resulted from three distinct collapse blocks of Mount St. Helens (click to enlarge, but you still may not be able to read the fine print).

Harry died in a pyroclastic flow at Mount Unzen, Japan, in 1991 that killed 43 people. He would have been killed by the Mount St. Helens eruption, but he was away on an interview; his replacement observer, David Johnston, lost his life instead. Johnston Ridge is named for David.

I'm thinking that life insurance for vulcanologists must be very expensive.

The story of the Hummocks Trail is also one of renewal. Several sheltered pockets of forest have sprung up, for example.

At one location there is a beaver dam and lodge. It must have been an arduous journey for the pioneer beavers, but that's what nature does. It relentlessly explores niches.

Every time we talked with someone and mentioned taking the Hummocks Trail, they asked "Did you see the beaver lodge?"

Dinner this evening was at Patty's Place (now closed), at the 19-mile marker on our road. The fruit cobblers were outstanding, and we resolved to return for tomorrow's supper.

We arrived back at the Blue Heron in time for sunset.

The snows on the mountain picked up the colors of the sky.

July 4
Today was dedicated to Mount St. Helens itself. Our first driving stop was the Loowit Lookout, a scant mile from the Johnston Ridge Observatory. The parking lot was not crowded.

The view towards Mount St. Helens was striking. Of course, everywhere on Johnston Ridge the view would be striking, but slightly different as you continued east. I took several dozens of pictures of the mountain this day.

From the Loowit Lookout, there is a trail that winds down the ridge, and after 3½-4 miles deposits you at the parking area for the Hummocks Trail. The Forest Service describes it hiking in the uphill direction. The next photo looks along the ridge in the downhill direction, although the slope isn't apparent yet.

In the other direction, uphill, you would arrive at the Johnston Ridge Observatory in less than a mile. You can see this trail in the earlier parking lot photo. The Monument has volunteers who help explain and recommend features to visitors, and we met our first one here. She recommended hiking up to the Observatory, but we had a different trail in mind.

We spent two hours at the observatory, taking in its exhibits and a marvelous video presentation which ends with the theater curtains drawing back to reveal the mountain looming in front of you. On cloudy or foggy days it would only be a blank gray wall of glass, but we were, as you can see from these photos, very lucky with the weather. We needed plenty of sunscreen.

The observatory is largely built into the ridge, and in the colors of the ridge. There is no imposing building to take a photo of, rather, it is impressive how well the observatory blends into the landscape. It is in the upper right of this photo.

After exploring the observatory and consuming our brown-bag lunches, we set off on the Boundary Trail, which winds eastward and then turns north around a shoulder of the ridge. The next image is two Google Maps views of the trail stitched together, with red dot "bread crumbs" showing where we went along the trail. You can see the Observatory parking area in the upper left, but for anything else, you'll need to click to enlarge! Mount St. Helens is off the bottom of the map.

 The views of the mountain are continuous along the trail.

We later learned that the trail had been opened up only two days before, again because of lingering snow. The rangers must have waited until every inch of the path was clear!

As we continued to the east, the view into the caldera opened up, and the lava dome appeared, evidence even to the casual observer that the mountain is still alive.

Here is a maximum-zoom photo of the dome.

By cropping severely, I can zoom in further, and if you click on the image to enlarge it, you can see steam rising from the rocks near the center. Through binoculars, the plume reminded me of steam pouring up from a hot teakettle.

After heading east for while, the trail jogs south before coming around a corner and heading north. This is the narrowest part of the path.

At the switchback, both Mt. Adams and Spirit Lake come into view, along with the still-inaccessible Windy Ridge on the far side of the lake.

Zooming in on Mt. Adams, we can also see the straight line of the road on Windy Ridge, with snowbanks.

Where the trail swings back to the north is the closest approach to Mount St. Helens. Here's what it looked like:

Near our turnaround point, we observed a female horned lark, who had been misled -- with the trail closed until two days before, she had chosen to build her nest by the side of the quiet way, but now there were frequent interlopers walking by.

On our return we encountered this fearless chipmunk. He's seen people before.

Back at the observatory we took the brief paved trail to the official observation point, where we met another Monument volunteer and had an engaging conversation. Then, down on the main viewing deck in front of the Observatory entrance,

a ranger gave a brief presentation on the 1980 eruption.

Also on the grounds is a memorial to those who died in the eruption.

On our way back down route 504 we stopped at a parking area to admire the Hoffstadt Creek bridge, the largest of the 14 new bridges built post-eruption.

This spot was at the edge of the blast zone, as described in the Weyerhaeuser sign at the viewpoint.

Then it was time for dinner at Patty's Place, for which we were barely in time; they were closing early for the 4th of July holiday. It had been a long day, but a satisfying one. Afterwards at the Blue Heron we packed for our next day's journey, to Mt. Rainier.