Volcanos present

"Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it!"

That was the astonished cry of David Johnston as he watched the beginning of what was to become the largest landslide in recorded history. An entire flank of the south-central Washington peak the vulcanologist was monitoring calved off of its north side and, at speeds of up to 150mph, roared toward his station six miles away on what is now called Johnston Ridge.

Sliding earth uncapped the volcano's vent, unleashing an enormous eruption of superheated ash and gasses. After smashing into the ridge, the landslide turned west and headed down the Toutle River valley. The eruption blew out and up, ravaging the peaks to the north. Altogether, 57 people were killed, including Johnston, whose remains have never been found.

Mt. St. Helens lives in the memory of most people over forty years old. Our popular press often refers to events as "earth-shattering," but the May 18th, 1980 explosion of this volcano is one that actually lives up to the label. It was truly cataclysmic.

We drove from Interstate 5 along Washington Highway 504 to the north side of the mountain. Along this route are located most of the educational and visitor center facilities that cater to those wanting to learn more about the events of thirty-three years ago. At the end of the road can be found Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument - our destination for the day. Although the southern and eastern regions are where most of the outdoor recreation happens, there are plenty of chances to get out into the wilderness when you finally reach the Monument. There is some excellent backpacking available to the northeast of the Johnston Ridge Observatory - including, I was told by a ranger, outhouses with the best views anywhere in the world (they open south to the mountain) - as well as many dayhiking trails in the vicinity.

We arrived before the place opened, so we headed up the first part of the adjacent Boundary Trail to kill some time. Great views and excellent and informative signage pack the first quarter mile of this hike as well as, on this day, a gale force wind that convinced us to reconsider plans to continue the hike later.

The Observatory offers an excellent primer on the events of May 1980. Creative exhibits do a nice job of communicating the scientific enormity of the eruption while remaining cognizant of its cultural impacts, and respectful of those who were lost. I'd very much recommend the short videos in the center's theater, not only for their quality but for the drama (Spoiler Alert!) of watching the curtains rise at the end to reveal a huge window-wall framing the mountain.

After lingering a bit longer than we intended, we returned to the car and drove the short couple of miles to a trail that, if I might paraphrase the description, is essentially a walk through some of the mountain's innards. The Hummocks trail loops in and around ejecta, including mounds of ash and boulders (some the size of houses). It also winds past various ponds and marshes that have appeared since the landslide.

It's an interesting hike, if rather webby in the understory areas (I don't mind spiders, but can't stand walking through their webs for some reason). I guess that's probably a seasonal thing. In any case, there are some interpretive plaques and nice views of Mt. St. Helens. It is a fascinating thing to know that the landscape through which you're traveling, biotic and abiotic, is all less than thirty-three years old (Castle Lake, just west of the mountain, was formed by the landslide). That's an eye blink in geological time.

The trail was short enough to allow us to finish and get back on the road. A planned destination for the night on the coast of Oregon required at least a couple of hours drive (including fun stops in Astoria and Cannon Beach). But we left impressed with Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, and the surrounding countryside.

And we took with us the little hit of humility one gets from appreciating that this world functions at speeds and on scales which are independent of, and unconcerned with, our presence in it.

We hope to return and get to know this part of the world a bit better.