A Land In Distress

We chose this day to stay in and around Hilo, an easy day I thought. So, we visited and hiked into three of the local waterfalls; Rainbow, Wai’ale and Pe’e Pe’e . It was 11 in the morning and already the temperature climbing out over the black pahoehoe lava was incredible. I had misjudged the amount of energy I was putting out as well. Eventually after pushing a lot of water and having an early lunch, I felt refreshed enough to continue to the area called Puna where there are lava trees, gigantic monkey pod trees and miles on single lane roads that twist and turn their way through a variety of scenery. Along the coastline there are naturally heated pools where superheated water from the earth’s crust has mingled with the ocean sea water. The water temperature ranges from 91-95 degrees depending on the tide. Since Carl does all the driving, we took a few minutes to let him soak his tired muscles. The road finally ended, cut off by a lava flow from the eruption of 1990. We walked a ¼ mile, across a vast area of pahoehoe, silvery, black, glasslike lava that flows similar to a thick cake batter, to find a new black sand beach called Kaimu. Locals have been bringing cocoanut trees to repair and rebuild the area into some semblance of what it used to be. The old beach, Kahena, and the town of Kalapana now sit under anywhere from 8 to 75 feet of solid volcanic rock. In the distance we could see a green metal roof now at ground level. Back at the parking area we noticed the Hawaiian state flag fluttering in the stiff wind, upside down. This is apparently someone’s attempt at humor as if to say the state is in need of help. Madame Pele takes what she wants.

Invisible Peaks

The northwest portion of Washington boasts some impressive mountains, Rainier, Hood, St Helens, Adams, Baker, most of them volcanic. My dad kept telling us that we should be seeing these snow capped peaks during the first few days of our trip but the weather and low ceilings kept them hidden. Tuesday evening we got our first real look at Rainier, all 14,000 plus feet of it. We were more than 60 miles away and still it dominated the skyline. This morning, however, was a time to enjoy the beauty of the Hood Canal and Walker Mountain. The Hood Canal is not really a canal because it is closed at one end. Still, it’s narrow enough so that you can enjoy the beauty of both shorelines in many places. A low fog bank helped to increase the early morning “moody” atmosphere for my camera. After leaving the canal, Adena transformed the car into a billy goat and we climbed up the narrow and steep four mile road to the overlook on Walker Mountain. From there we had a great view of Rainier to the south and Baker and Shuksan to the north. We arrived back in Bellingham just in time to visit the local microbrewery to sample the good stuff. Then it was back to my dad’s house to do some laundry and start packing. Thursday is a get away day for us.

Emotions Run High

This was a very special and emotion packed day. We were headed to Mt. St Helens and, finally, the sun was out. Even the few clouds in the area gave way. As we approached the blast area, the signs began to read “monument”. This entire area is not a state park or national forest any more. In fact, more than 27 years later much of the area is still buried under many feet of ash, pumice and mud. We arrived at Johnston Ridge Observatory which is approximately five miles from the mountain. The ridge got it’s name from a vulcanologist named David Johnston who was checking instruments on the morning of May 18, 1980 when the entire side of the mountain was jarred loose by a 5.1 magnitude earthquake which triggered the ultimate eruption. He died just seconds after alerting Vancouver about the eruption. From the Observatory, we looked directly into the horseshoe shaped crater formed by the blast. A new lava dome called “the Bulge” is forming and scientists believe this new dome may eventually replace the more than 2,000 vertical feet that was dislodged with the blast. The area before us was almost completely devoid of life. Not a single tree remained. Behind us was evidence of what was once a lush old growth forest that spread out over rugged terrain for more than 17 miles; all gone in seconds. The trees were either incinerated, uprooted or flattened by the pyroclastic flow. Huge stumps and pieces of two foot diameter logs still remain. It was truly an awe inspiring landscape. David Johnston wasn’t the only person to loose his life that day. In all, twenty two people were lost. It could have been much worse. A light plume of steam came from the top of the bulge; evidence that St Helens is still uneasy and should be respected. Click here for an up to date web cam image taken from Johnston Ridge.