Philadelphia Inquirer
Document Actions
Posted on Sun, Feb. 26, 2006
Back to the blast
At Mount St. Helens, there are vivid reminders of the violent 1980 eruption and a spectacular new road. But don't count on seeing the volcano itself.
By Steve Goldstein
Inquirer Staff Writer
MOUNT ST. HELENS, Wash. - When the most famous volcano in America began rumbling again in 2004, it was like a siren song.
The lyrics were: "Build a new lava dome, and they will come."
Not being disaster groupies, we didn't drop everything and head out to western Washington. But when an opportunity arose for a family trip to Portland, Ore., in June, we knew the first place we wanted to visit.
It's an easy, one-hour drive north on Interstate 5 to Castle Rock, Wash., the gateway to Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, as it is somewhat grandiosely called. Our first stop was the state-run visitor center at Silver Lake, five miles from the highway. We paid a $6 adult fee that covered three observation centers along the route.
The visitor center provides a useful orientation to the region, incorporating the human history of the area and life after Helens' extreme makeover. A short film on the so-called Ring of Fire - the chain of volcanoes encircling the Pacific wherever continental plates collide - focused on St. Helens' significance as the only active volcano in the lower 48 states. A dozen other volcanoes in the Cascade Range, including Mount Rainier, Oregon's Mount Hood and California's Mount Shasta, are dormant.
We spent about 45 minutes orienting ourselves, mainly because we didn't feel pressed for time. The mountain, normally visible from here, was shrouded in cloud.
Time enough to enjoy the road to Mount St. Helens, which itself is a bit of a marvel.
That would be the new road, of course.
The old road died shortly after 8:30 a.m. on May 18, 1980, when a 5.1-magnitude earthquake triggered an eruption and a lateral blast that blew out St. Helens' north slope, loosing a landslide that, coupled with floodwaters from melting glaciers, buried the asphalt and everything else all the way to the old logging town of Toutle and beyond, virtually to the interstate, 50 miles away.
Now Highway 504, the Spirit Lake Memorial Highway, winds above the valley of the Toutle River, where its predecessor lies buried. The road is an engineering wonder, providing spectacular views of the transformed valley below where, in four minutes, the eruption flattened 230 square miles of forest.
The sides of the valley are littered with ghostly gray stumps and trunks scattered like pickup sticks, surrounded now by wildflowers and a young forest of willow, alder and fir. Snaking along the valley floor are grayish-brown tongues of mud and ash.
The eruption released a pyroclastic flow - a ground-hugging avalanche of super-hot ash, pumice and rock fragments - that melted the snow on the mountain and created lahars, an Indonesian word for a rapidly flowing mixture of rock, debris and water.
Lahars scoured the valley, like concrete fired at high speed, exposing ancient lava flows. Left behind were humps of mud and ash called hummocks, which dot the valley like totems of an ancient civilization.
St. Helens lost about 1,300 feet in height as 65.4 million cubic yards of material poured into the valley along the north fork of the Toutle River.
As we gained altitude on dramatic switchbacks, the silence in our van was punctuated by periodic exclamations from the six of us. The loudest "wow" was reserved for a bridge that soared so high above the valley that we seemed to be flying - no topographical frame of reference on either side. Clouds added to the eerie stillness.
By the time we got to road's end at Johnston Ridge, we had climbed to 4,300 feet and it was cold, foggy and drizzly.
St. Helens remained hidden.
Only 51/2 miles from the crater, Johnston Ridge Observatory is named for U.S. Geological Survey volcanologist David Johnston, who was monitoring the volcano 25 years ago and whose last words - "Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it!" - heralded the beginning of the eruption. He was likely the first of the 57 fatalities that day.
We walked to the top of the ridge on a carefully laid path between the flourishing wildflowers and shrubs. Signs caution visitors that "plants grow by the inch and die by the foot."
Inside the Johnston Ridge Observatory Visitor Center, the superb exhibits feature personal histories of those who were in the vicinity of the eruption, including a fortunate pair who literally outraced the landslide in their car.
A 16-minute film provides a gripping reconstruction of the event, complete with a soundtrack to rival War of the Worlds. As the credits rolled, a sign above flashed red: Please remain seated.
So we did, as the screen rose to reveal a mammoth plate glass window and - a big white fog bank!
"Arrrghh!" went the audience.
Sometimes the rangers hold up a large photo of the horseshoe-shaped crater.
"Unfortunately," lead park ranger Greg Pohll told me later, "having little or no visibility of the volcano is a fairly common experience."
Based on years of observation, rangers say the volcano is visible 160 days a year, mostly from mid-June to mid-October. "Before June 15, the odds are against you," he said, since there are only 40 days of visibility scattered through the rest of the year.
We were in the right place at the right time - June 28 - but out of luck.
Even on days when it's clear in the lowlands, St. Helens may be veiled. "The volcano has been creating its own weather," said Pohll. Steam and hot, moist air rising from the volcano produce clouds, he explained. So even when the cloud layer is well above the volcano, high humidity may cause St. Helens to fog itself in.
The new lava dome now contains about 60 million cubic meters of material. Since last fall, it had swollen to a height of about 1,700 feet in the shape of a shark's tooth as new lava added six to 12 feet per day.
In early July - just a few days after our visit - a huge chunk broke off. Scientists estimated the dome lost a couple hundred feet. Now they call it the "chipped tooth."
With no hope of volcano views, we drove back down Spirit Lake Highway about three miles to yet another interpretive center - this one called the Coldwater Ridge Visitor Center (elevation 3,200 feet) - to inspect the snack bar and take a hike. The food wasn't all that appetizing, but the scenery was superb.
Many of the hiking trails leading near the volcano are closed due to almost daily intermittent belches and rumbles, and hikers cannot climb higher than 4,700 feet for their own safety. Near the Coldwater Ridge Visitor Center, we chose to hike the Elk Bench trail, which is rated as difficult, but is only a mile each way. We wound down the ridge via a series of switchbacks until we came to the "bench" - a broad grass meadow with gorgeous wildflowers and the trill of birdsong.
In 1980, we could have stepped over a small brook called Coldwater Creek. The eruption dumped a huge load at one end of the valley, damming the stream. Now Coldwater Lake is more than four miles long and as deep as 203 feet.
After a rigorous walk to our car, we drove back down the road to Kid Valley and rewarded ourselves with homemade fruit cobbler at the 19 Mile House Restaurant. While you're waiting - I recommend the cobbler a la mode - you can read about the owner and his family's adventures in the hours leading up to and after the eruption. The Kid Valley Campground is nearby, for those making an overnight trip.
Of course, the next day the clouds cleared and Portland was awash in sunshine. We drove up to the highest point in the city's west hills and there she was. We agreed right then that Helens may be worth a second date.
Visiting the Volcano
Seattle and Portland, Ore., are the closest major cities to Mount St. Helens, and a day trip to the volcano is possible from either one.
You can fly nonstop from Philadelphia International Airport to Seattle on US Airways and United; the lowest recent round-trip fare was about $265.
There are one-stop flights to Portland on American, Delta, Northwest, United and Continental; the lowest recent round-trip fare was $350.
• Staying, eating there. Nearby towns, notably Castle Rock, Wash., have motels, cabins and restaurants.
• The visitor centers.
Coldwater Ridge Visitor Center. The veranda offers a foursquare look at Mount St. Helens. Inside, a wealth of interactive exhibits explain the workings of a volcano. A cafeteria serves a wide range, from designer coffee to full meals. Next door, a concessionaire sells a variety of souvenirs, including samples of ash collected outside the national forest.
Johnston Ridge Observatory Visitor Center. Why have two visitor centers (not counting a state-run interpretive center called Silver Lake, about 37 miles from Coldwater Ridge)? Because this one brings visitors even closer to the mountain. Enthusiastic rangers tell the tale of the big 1980 eruption, and clever displays fill in the blanks. Note: The observatory closes from late October until early May.
• More information. Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument headquarters: 360-449-7800; www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/mshnvm/
