On May 18, 1980, Dale and I went out on our second- story porch in
Portland to watch an enormous, grimy cauliflower cloud pushing higher
and higher in the sky. Later, we went up to the Rose Gardens in NW
Portland to get a better view. Mt. St. Helens was erupting.
News trickled in over the next few days. We didn't own a TV so relied on radio and newspapers. Spirit Lake was buried under tons of debris from the mountain's fury.
We made the 2 1/2 hour drive from Portland several times between our arrival in October 1978 and the huge eruption that destroyed the lake (and made Mt. St. Helens a household name) in May, 1980. It was a beautiful place, far from civilization, truly pristine.
We had a unique experience on the mountain. On July 4, 1979 we went to Spirit Lake and drove further up the mountain to the timberline, stopping at the parking area where the hiking trail to the summit of Mt. St. Helens began. This parking area later became famous as 'the Turnaround.' The weather had turned unpleasant. The parking lot had always been deserted when we visited, but not this time. We found a wedding in progress-- the bride in hand- embroidered muslin, the groom in embroidered jeans; a minister, and another couple. It was snowing, windy, and quite chilly. Everybody was shivering. We were too. I'm guessing they sped through the ceremony so they could get back in their cars and go someplace warmer.
What made this unique: There could only be one couple in the world who could say that they were married on the Turnaround, in a snowstorm. on the July 4th before the mountain blew her top. And we were almost certainly their only other witnesses.The Turnaround was blasted into the stratosphere in the eruption, and probably settled into the soil in Montana.
I wonder if they are still alive, still together, and what they are telling their grandchildren.
During our pre-eruption visits, we had a favorite place on the road up to Spirit Lake: a rustic restaurant on the Toutle River. A young couple had invested all they had into their little piece of Pacific Northwest paradise. An outdoor deck was cantilevered over the river, which was sparkling and cold as it descended from the mountain. The endless evergreen forest was interrupted here by alders whose leaves danced in the sunlight. The scents of cold water and fir and pine trees and wonderful smells emanating from the little inn... this was heavenly. Inside, we enjoyed fabulous soup and bread and pastries and really good coffee, served on simple tables near the windows. We had little money, but we could afford this small splurge. Our bill was never more than $10 for the two of us. Besides great, simple food, the place held enormous charm for us. At one end, a fire glowed in a big stone fireplace. A pair of musty old overstuffed chairs invited us to linger and page through the old books and National Geographics that filled the two ancient bookshelves flanking the fireplace.
Our last visit there was in October 1979.
Seven months later, the Toutle River became a roaring wall of mud and boulders that carried away everything in its path for miles downstream from the mountain; shipping on the Columbia River, 50 miles away, was threatened for some time afterward.
I hope the young couple got out before the eruption-- as the mountain awakened, most people kept their distance. Sadly, their beautiful little place is probably under tons of mud now, but they may well have rebuilt somewhere else. I certainly hope so.
A few stubborn ones decided to play chicken with the volcano, or discounted its danger. Volcanoes always win those contests. There were only three deaths within the official "Red Zone." All three were in cabins or lodges at Spirit Lake. THE OTHER 54 WERE TECHNICALLY IN AREAS DEEMED SAFE BY THE STATE OF WASHINGTON.
Interestingly, the "Red Zone" boundaries stopped where a huge lumber conglomerate's properties began. The company was actively logging on the morning of the blast. Five of their employees died on the mountain including three men who spoke virtually no English. Two of them lay in the hospital for weeks with horrific burns before they died.
Good business practice. I think you can guess what I think about the State of Washington's placement of those boundaries.
We have been back to the mountain a few times since and have seen how life has returned to what was a wasteland. There is a visitor center and walking trails. They all lack the serene and beautiful wildness that we had loved before May 18, 1980.
On the days following the eruption, the news was full of shock and horror as the news unfolded. The media seemed affronted, even outraged, by the eruption.
Dale, being Dale, said, "It's a volcano! What in the h*** do you expect it to do?"
© J M-K February 2016
News trickled in over the next few days. We didn't own a TV so relied on radio and newspapers. Spirit Lake was buried under tons of debris from the mountain's fury.
We made the 2 1/2 hour drive from Portland several times between our arrival in October 1978 and the huge eruption that destroyed the lake (and made Mt. St. Helens a household name) in May, 1980. It was a beautiful place, far from civilization, truly pristine.
We had a unique experience on the mountain. On July 4, 1979 we went to Spirit Lake and drove further up the mountain to the timberline, stopping at the parking area where the hiking trail to the summit of Mt. St. Helens began. This parking area later became famous as 'the Turnaround.' The weather had turned unpleasant. The parking lot had always been deserted when we visited, but not this time. We found a wedding in progress-- the bride in hand- embroidered muslin, the groom in embroidered jeans; a minister, and another couple. It was snowing, windy, and quite chilly. Everybody was shivering. We were too. I'm guessing they sped through the ceremony so they could get back in their cars and go someplace warmer.
What made this unique: There could only be one couple in the world who could say that they were married on the Turnaround, in a snowstorm. on the July 4th before the mountain blew her top. And we were almost certainly their only other witnesses.The Turnaround was blasted into the stratosphere in the eruption, and probably settled into the soil in Montana.
I wonder if they are still alive, still together, and what they are telling their grandchildren.
During our pre-eruption visits, we had a favorite place on the road up to Spirit Lake: a rustic restaurant on the Toutle River. A young couple had invested all they had into their little piece of Pacific Northwest paradise. An outdoor deck was cantilevered over the river, which was sparkling and cold as it descended from the mountain. The endless evergreen forest was interrupted here by alders whose leaves danced in the sunlight. The scents of cold water and fir and pine trees and wonderful smells emanating from the little inn... this was heavenly. Inside, we enjoyed fabulous soup and bread and pastries and really good coffee, served on simple tables near the windows. We had little money, but we could afford this small splurge. Our bill was never more than $10 for the two of us. Besides great, simple food, the place held enormous charm for us. At one end, a fire glowed in a big stone fireplace. A pair of musty old overstuffed chairs invited us to linger and page through the old books and National Geographics that filled the two ancient bookshelves flanking the fireplace.
Our last visit there was in October 1979.
Seven months later, the Toutle River became a roaring wall of mud and boulders that carried away everything in its path for miles downstream from the mountain; shipping on the Columbia River, 50 miles away, was threatened for some time afterward.
I hope the young couple got out before the eruption-- as the mountain awakened, most people kept their distance. Sadly, their beautiful little place is probably under tons of mud now, but they may well have rebuilt somewhere else. I certainly hope so.
A few stubborn ones decided to play chicken with the volcano, or discounted its danger. Volcanoes always win those contests. There were only three deaths within the official "Red Zone." All three were in cabins or lodges at Spirit Lake. THE OTHER 54 WERE TECHNICALLY IN AREAS DEEMED SAFE BY THE STATE OF WASHINGTON.
Interestingly, the "Red Zone" boundaries stopped where a huge lumber conglomerate's properties began. The company was actively logging on the morning of the blast. Five of their employees died on the mountain including three men who spoke virtually no English. Two of them lay in the hospital for weeks with horrific burns before they died.
Good business practice. I think you can guess what I think about the State of Washington's placement of those boundaries.
We have been back to the mountain a few times since and have seen how life has returned to what was a wasteland. There is a visitor center and walking trails. They all lack the serene and beautiful wildness that we had loved before May 18, 1980.
On the days following the eruption, the news was full of shock and horror as the news unfolded. The media seemed affronted, even outraged, by the eruption.
Dale, being Dale, said, "It's a volcano! What in the h*** do you expect it to do?"
© J M-K February 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment