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Published: August 11th 2014
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It's geography geek's day! We're off to Mount St Helens , one of numerous volcanoes in the Cascades range best known for the massive volcanic eruption that blew the side of the mountain away in May 1980. Grey damp weather as we drive up the interstate, leaving us huddling for warmth at a stop to buy gas, is mercifully replaced by clear sunny skies as we approach the mountain. It is a truly awesome sight. Outside the national park area, the region has been reforested, so views are limited by the tall stands of conifers. But within the park boundaries, no planting has been allowed, so you can see the varying rates of regeneration. When the volcano erupted, a huge section of the northern flank was blown out, smashing into the ridge several miles away and creating new cliffs. The first eruption was followed by an ash plume that rose 15 miles into the sky, and that in turn was followed by a pyroclastic flow of hot gases, ash and small pieces of rock moving at over 400mph. In the immediate vicinity of the volcano, all vegetation was pulverised, and the ash deposits are several hundred feet deep. You can now
see the rivers cutting new channels. Beyond that, the trees were all knocked over, and further out still the trees remained upright but were burnt to bare skeletons by the flow.
We stop at the Johnston Ridge Observation Center, the visitor center built on the spot 7 miles away across the valley immediately opposite the mountain, where the hapless volunteer vulcanologist David Johnston was watching that fateful May morning and whose last recorded words radioed back to base were "This is the big....." He never got the word "one" out before we was vaporised but immortalised by the big bang. We watch a film about the eruption and stroll round the outside of the building to look at the views. A family are picnicking in a much more scenic spot than the car park where we sat half in and half out of the car. The little girl drops her sandwich and grinds it carefully into the ground with her shoe. She asks for a replacement and bursts into hysterical tears when her demand is refused on the not unreasonable grounds that she just destroyed the sandwich she'd been given. As we leave, we see a strange creature approaching
which turns out to be a man carrying a giant toy animal on his shoulders. Why??? Probably because he is Sparky Griswold?
We stop for a walk through a scenic area of small lakes and giant hummocks of debris and rock that were deposited by the glacier. The path is virtually deserted, apart from an old fellow sitting on a bench with a strimmer. Ten minutes later, three anxious rangers advance upon us, asking if we've seen a man with a strimmer, saying he should have been back 3 hours ago. We cast our minds back to our encounter. Did he speak to us? Had he conceivably suffered a heart attack which we failed to notice? Should we have stopped to help him? We conclude that he had, in fact, said hello, so was not dead, and were all sure he had not asked for help. He had asked David if he had seen the ice cream van, but I sort of thought he meant he was a bit hot......
We return to town and stopped at the supermarket to buy dinner. David is engaged in a surreal conversation with the guy on the meat counter who tells
me has been to games at Arsenal, Sheffield Wed, Millwall ("those guys are real crazy, man, at that Den of theirs"). More surreally he tells us Trev on till 9 is an Evertonian. We check out our purchases with Trev. "How's it going today, guys?" drawls Trev. "Why yous talking like tha' when yous is a Blue?" asks David slipping effortlessly into his best Scouse. A lively conversation ensues when we agree that we love Lukaku and hate the RS with a vengeance.
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