We rode out into the fog, down already ridden roads, toward Mt. Rainier, then turned off toward Mt. St. Helens. The sun broke through to give us glimpses of Mt. Adams, another volcanic statement poking into the sky.
Entering the road to St. Helens, there was immediately a sense that we were in a place that demanded great respect. As we bent into the open curves up toward the mountain, the landscape changed from forest to abject devastation. Still, after 32 years, the landscape is littered with the effects of a natural explosion that had ten times the power of a nuclear blast. Few trees grow where attempts have been made at reforestation and Spirit Lake (whose depths rose 200 feet when the mountain exploded) is still partially covered with a "log mat" created by trees blown off the mountain.
Mt. St. Helens still stands there in all her snow covered majesty, a huge crater in her side, with an ever present cloud of steam pouring from the lava dome. She is alive and powerful.
We left her behind, but she was never out of sight and mind, as we headed south and saw Mt. Hood, another volcano, in the distance.
Drove through miles of forest to Cougar, then passed three beautiful reservoirs, to Woodland where we parked the bike.
Eerie spiritualism followed us as we witnessed the power of our planet. The Pacific Ring of Fire reminds us that our walk on these grounds is temporal.
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