June 30, 2008 NO PHOTOS - back to Kamloops, BC

Early the next morning, I headed back home again.  My cold was closing in fast and I wanted nothing more than to just get home to my beddy bye.  I was going to stop over in the Lower Mainland but was just too whacked out.

Drove straight home stopping a couple of times on the Coquihalla for a snooze and slept away the next couple of days.  

Went back to work on July 2 but within a week or so had succumbed to the nasty bug which turned into pneumonia. 

Antibiotics and an inhaler improved matters; however, I for quite a while I was a “bear of little brain” (and even littler voice).

The end

June 29, 2008 Mount. St. Helens, WA - A huge tragedy of life, history and geology.

Kay had been trying to get another tour from the company we had before (Pacific Northwest Tours) to go to Mount. St. Helens.  They said they’d pick us up but did not show.  I volunteered to drive there and off we went.  

It was an amazing trip.  Brought back huge memories for me.  I remembered seeing the mountain before it “blew its top” in May 1980.  The summer before I’d driven back from Salem, OR to Kelowna.  I’d stayed in Ritzville, one of the towns the ash the volcano temporarily buried after the explosion.  

Smoky Mount S. Helens in the distance

Although I felt rather rotten, being up and driving did me good.  The volcano, still active, is about 75 miles north and a bit east from Portland.  The road we took in was near Castle Rock and pretty soon we met up with the Toutle River (that was completely blocked by ash following the explosion). The river is grey with ash and has all kinds of little tributaries trying to ooze their way through the sludge. 

Toutle River still clogged with ash after 30 years

For pretty much the whole day, no matter what we were driving through or what I was taking pictures of, there was Mt. St. Helens looming mistily and somewhat malevolently in the background.  

An eerie sort of beauty

After stopping for a while at the Silver Lake Mt. St. Helens Visitor’s site, which gave us some history, geology and real life experience of the blast, we continued on our way along Highway 504, the Spirit Lake Highway.  This is a somewhat lonely twisty, windy 40 odd miles of volcanic devastation.  While the vegetation is beginning to grow back, there is no doubt it suffered a huge assault some 30 years ago. 

New growth amidst the devastation

At the end of the road, tucked into the side of Johnston’s Ridge and only five miles from the north side of the mountain, the Johnston Ridge Observatory provides visitors the opportunity to come within a stone’s throw of the crater and face-to-face with a mountain that blew with such magnitude and fury. One can walk out on the viewing deck or take a stroll along one of the trails and feel the energy of the mountain as it continues to puff with steam.

Higher views

Crater 

In the almost 60 photos I took, while I caught some of the sense of loneliness, destruction, meters deep of ash, still “puffing” active vents, long dead trees and stumps ripped off by the force of the blast and even some of the new life slowly growing up through the rubble, somehow it is not possible to capture the magnitude of the area.  

Volcano still venting

Tree damage from the explosion

U.S. President Jimmy Carter surveyed the damage and said, "Someone said this area looked like a moonscape. But the moon looks more like a golf course compared to what's up there.”  Couldn’t have said it better myself.

It is really all rather eerie.  We took time to go through the many exhibits and read through personal survival stories from that fateful day on May 18, 1980. The Centre offered the movie, exhibits, interpretive talks, photographs and viewing areas to maximize the Mount St. Helens experience. Johnston Ridge Observatory is the closest viewpoint to the crater of Mount St. Helens. Although it was an experience I would not have missed, it gave me a feeling of visiting a huge tragedy of life, history and geology.

Mount St. Helens

Kay and I headed back to Portland in the late afternoon and another super meal at Elmer’s.

June 27 - 28, 2008 - NO PHOTOS - Exceptionally long drive to Beaverton, OR; stay with friend, cats and rapidly deteriorating chest cold.

I did not have a good sleep  so I got up about 6-ish, had a quick breakfast and hit the road – aiming for Portland that night.

With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I think  the hiking difficulty I experienced must have been intensified by the worst California fires in years, where there were "bad air" warnings from Bakersfield  to Redding.  Even though it was cool high in the mountains the air had a haze, wasn't crystal-clear as usual, and though we didn't give it much thought, I believe the conditions must have slowed us down.

On the road through California, the air was absolutely awful – purple, in fact.  Could not see across the highway and it really made no difference whether one was in the car or outside – the air quality was the same.  I found out later it was in the “high danger” zone. 

A friend of mine commented “I am hiding in my house, trying not to breathe, due to smoke in the air. The temperature is supposed to be 114 degrees Fahrenheit today. … saw  a blood-red moon last night, which was beautiful, but unsettling."

By the time I reached the Oregon border we were out of the smoke but my breathing had deteriorated considerably.  Wheezing, I was.  I arrived in Portland to my friend Kay’s in the early evening and we went out for a bite to eat.  I was absolutely dead tired and slept like a log with cats clambering all over and using the bed as a battle ground. 

In the morning, we had breakfast but then I came back and slept some more.  I was clearly right tuckered out.  Went out for a ride on the Tri-met but I had to give it up due to exhaustion.  That night we had a hugely delicious dinner at Elmer’s, a “delicious down home Northwest dining experience which specializes in roast beef dinners.  Mmmm good. 

** June 26, 2008 - Exhausting hike out from Bearpaw Meadows, bad smoke from forest fires, farewell to friends

Next morning we hiked out, and, in Diana’s words “it was brutal” - usually the hike out apparently seems easier and takes a little less time than the hike in, but not so this time.  

The trek out

More beautiful wildflowers to encourage our trek; however, we were clearly exhausted and stopped to rest much more often than we did coming in. 

Brodiaea Elegant

Twining Brodiaea

Hillside of little pink gilia

Fivespot

In addition to the expected pain in the legs, I had pain in my chest as well (out of shape thing that I am).  There was clearly a bad forest fire somewhere “down there” which made breathing difficult, but turned the sky a faded and cloudy pink.  

Smoky views heading down

In places, the trail was falling away (which I did not recall on the trip up).  

Trail falling away

Trail falling away

At one point we had to clamber up a hillside to enable the weekly mule packtrain by.  It occurred to both of us that on another trip up to Bearpaw, we could book a spot on the mules so we would not have to huff and grumpus our way up on foot.

Pack train

It took us 9 hours to get out, though. (Diana with a recurring knee problem and me with a strained hip and chest pain.)  

We drove back to Cedar Grove to pick up Peter who had had a wonderfully quiet vacation by the rippling river reading - pondering to his heart’s content.  Gorgeous King’s Canyon held the beautiful fading light we’d been walking through all day and we pulled up to the lodge about 7 PM.  

We drove back to Grant Grove, seeing the smoldering remains of a brilliant red sunset (made all the more reddish orange by the forest fires which were ravaging the mountains nearby).  The steak dinner was large and very, very good - welcome as well, to the starving trekkers.   

As there was no room left in the hotel at Grant Grove, I rented a rather scary little cabin nearby.  It was very chilly, had no electricity, sounded like there were “critters” in the corners and smelled of mold.  An unfortunate end to an otherwise beautiful holiday in the High Sierra.  

** June 25, 2008 "Over-the-Hill Trail' and Elizabeth Pass - Stunning views and Wildflowers

We dragged ourselves up from the depths of sleep after a full night’s rest.  Breakfast was complete and very filling.

We headed out at about 9:30 on a scenic loop which combined the High Sierra Trail with a portion of the Elizabeth Pass Trail with the Over the Hill Trail.  I was somewhat more bushed than I was the day before and was moving quite slowly indeed. 

It is a good thing we were starting this trail fresh in the morning because it began with a grueling 500 foot struggle uphill through the forest. 

Coming out of the forest on Over the Hill Trail

As Diana noted in her blog, it “broke out on top to spectacular mountain views, then went down a stony, granite-gravelly bowl crossed by the most spectacularly flower-fringed streams of the trip.  The flowers were all colours of the rainbow.  It was 2.1 miles to Lone Pine Creek, which flowed rapidly over broad white rocks.”

Mountain Bluebells

Unknown

Unknown

?Pink Stickseed?

?Paintbrush and Blue Eyed Mary?

?Torrey's Blue Eyed Mary?

Unknown

Orange fungus (?orange cup fairy fungus?)

The higher we climbed, the more beautiful the views. 

Views towards Elizabeth Pass

The path not taken

Diana midst the wildflowers

Wildflowers on either side of the trail

 We had a leisurely stop for lunch and then made our way a short distance into the meadow in the lea of Elizabeth Pass where there were the most beautiful wildflowers.  We wandered around for a lot of the afternoon, just marveling at the views, the flowers and the fresh mountain air.  Photos, why yes, I did take some, a few, no … many. 

Wildflowers

Pink penstemon and purple lupin

Bleeding hearts

Unknown

?some type of daisy?

Unknown

Paintbrush and ?

We did not go a lot further into the meadow or up towards Elizabeth Pass because there was a very zig-zaggy, switch-backy trail heading further up towards the amazing ridges and mountains.  

Views towards Elizabeth Pass

Proof I made it this far

Views

Views

Wildflowers and views

Views - Lone Pine Creek

Great Western Divide views

Views

I was so tired from the uphill hike, I could have fallen asleep in the meadow like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz poppy fields.

Wildflower Meadows

Wildflower Meadow

Elizabeth Pass

Diana’s blog and wonderful descriptions remind me that “The flowers were really out in force, mostly profuse flags of pink penstemon, interspersed with dark purple lupines; we were both happy campers. … The views, flowers and geology were quite different.  Huge chunks of granite mountains, talus slopes at their base, Z shaped valleys through which the trail we were on led, streams cascading down open granite faces, stunning granite spires, perfect U shaped valleys carved out by the immense forces of glaciers thousands of years ago, granite mountain tops flattened into benches and falling into mountainsides peeling off the mountains themselves like pieces of onion.  And looking up, up, up to the very peaks themselves.  Wow.  Stunning.”  Thank you, Diana for letting me refer to part of your blog.

Wildflowers and trail

Shooting Star

We struggled back to Bearpaw (Diana – knee; me – hip) and our delightful hot showers. Another delicious dinner of (thank you, Diana for noting this in your blog) lasagna, salad, and butterflied charcoaled chicken breasts, followed by cream puffs.  

There was no campfire that night; however, we lazily photographed marmots, and watched deer. Again we sat out on the porch and watched the alpenglow of the setting sun tone down into the blue, blue blackness and stars of the night.  A beautiful trip.