Social Distancing at Mt. St. Helens

May 18th was Mt. St. Helens' 40th "eruptiversary" (aka the 40th anniversary of its famous 1980 eruption).  In honor of such an event, I decided it was only fitting to give the old girl a proper visit.

Keeping my social distance from MSH

So the following weekend, I grabbed hiking boots and backpack and made the 2-hour drive north to pay my respects.  It didn't cross my mind that maybe Memorial Day weekend wasn't a good time for such a visit.  But when I pulled into the Hummocks Trailhead parking area and there were already a dozen vehicles at 8 am, I knew I'd have some company.

Alder forest on the Hummocks Trail

Johnston Ridge Observatory, the closest visitor center to the mountain, usually opens their doors Mother's Day weekend.  But due to COVID it still remained closed in late May.  As a matter of fact, you couldn't even drive up there.  The road to the Observatory was barricaded at the Hummocks Trailhead.

One of many picturesque ponds

But I'd already hatched a plan.  From reading online hiking reports, and pouring over a few maps, I knew that the Boundary Trail would take me from the Hummocks parking area to the Observatory.  A portion of the trail I'd never hiked before (because driving up the steep hill to Johnston Ridge was much easier!)

Creek crossings

Because climbing up to Johnston Ridge straight from the Boundary Trail wasn't enough I decided to first begin with the Hummocks loop.  This trail wandered 2.5 miles through an area dotted with small hills and ponds.  Low-angle morning sun, just beginning to peek over the mountains, lit up the adjacent Alder woods beautifully.

The hummock mounds are being covered in trees

Formed by the landslide created by Mt. St. Helens eruption, this area was initially a badlands of barren rockpiles covered in gray ash.  A gravelly plain next to the Toutle River, it consisted of small hills, or mounds, of rock debris with tiny ponds wedged in between.  Although bleak and barren in the years immediately following the eruption, 40 years of  healing had filled it in nicely with tall trees and lush green plants.

Morning light through the trees

And luckily so far I had the trail all to myself (I assumed all the other hikers were hiking the loop in the opposite direction).  I passed by a cute little pond, surrounded by thick alder groves.  At the far end, I crossed the outlet creek via a couple of well placed wooden bridges.

Green now covers the devastation

The light was so fantastic for photography, it took me much longer than usual to cover the first mile. After twisting and turning through the alder woods, the trail finally popped out into an open area.  It was here I got my first full view of MSH herself.  She was glorious as always, surrounded by a halo of pebbly clouds.

First view of MSH

About then I encountered my first hiker, an older man.  I was wearing a buff, so I quickly pulled it over my nose and mouth.  The man did the same, and keeping an appropriate distance apart we briefly chatted about the local trails.

Toutle River

From this first viewpoint, the trail dived in and out of the woods, and up and down a few of the hummock hills.  Great views were had on each little summit.  At one point, I got a great look down into the Toutle River, it's channel surrounded by a wide, gravelly plain.

Tiny lupine

And of course the wildflowers were just getting started.  I saw a few nice patches of tiny lupine flowers, wild strawberry blooms, and a few hardy Indian Paintbrush pushing themselves up to the sky.

Many ponds dot the Hummocks loop

Although I thought I'd hiked the Hummocks Loop many, many years ago, I didn't remember a thing about it.  So today's trek was like discovering a new trail all over again!  And what a fine trail it was.  I made a mental note to definitely return for fall colors.

Boundary Trail junction

After a very slow, copious photo-taking two miles, I finally arrived at the junction with the Boundary Trail.  Situated in the middle of a large clearing, the mountain's white summit filled the horizon.  It was quite the impressive sight.

Fantastic views of MSH from the Boundary Trail

Okay, time to start up to Johnston Ridge!  Sitting 1700 feet higher than the Hummocks I was in for a climb over the next 4-ish miles.

Entire hillsides of decapitated trees from the eruption

After passing by a few straggler hummocks and another nice pond, the forest opened up to a barren ridge.  Although the MSH views were stellar, it was sad to see all the broken-off tree stumps scattered about, still-visible casualties of the eruption.

Crater close-up

As I began the first of several steep climbs, I gazed at the barren landscape and wondered why trees had failed to establish themselves here.  I'm sure the scientists studying this area have an answer.  (I could probably also Google it too).

Time to climb!

But lack of trees made for stunning vistas.  Topping the first ridge I could see far down the Toutle River drainage.  At one point I even spotted the western end of nearby Coldwater Lake.  And of course, the views of MSH just kept getting better and better.

Barren hillside

So far I'd only encountered a dozen other hikers.  When passing each other on the trail, one of us would politely step off, turn away, and pull up their face covering (usually it was me).  The lack of people and the fact that most everyone I'd met so far was keeping their distance and/or donning masks made me feel safe from any virus transmission.

Nearing Johnston Ridge

It seemed to take forever to reach Johnston Ridge.  The muggy weather and the fact that I wasn't yet in top hiking shape didn't help.  But little by little, I covered the distance and elevation until I finally spotted the road and Loowit Viewpoint.  It was weird to see both totally void of people and cars.  I did a quick pass-by of the viewpoint, checking out a few of the information plaques.  But my destination, and lunch spot, weren't far now.  Only another half mile!

Empty Johnston Ridge Observatory

The final ridge between Loowit Viewpoint and the Observatory was extremely picturesque.  Not only were the mountain views impressive, the hillsides were dotted with tiny white blooms of wild strawberries.  I thought it was the prettiest section of the entire hike.

Killer mountain views from the observatory

Finally the trail led me to the road in front of the Observatory's large and completely empty parking lot.  Following the pavement I climbed the last steep walkway to the building itself.  Usually an extremely busy place, it was strange to be the only person there.

I had the place to myself!

Perching myself on one of the low plaza walls I took a well-deserved break, eating my lunch while taking in the fabulous views of MSH.  The mountain looked so close it appeared only a short jaunt would bring you to it's crater (I know better, MSH is much farther away than it looks).  A young couple with large backpacks strolled by, and I learned they were heading towards Mt Margaret for a couple nights of camping.

Wild strawberry flowers

Except for the backpacking couple passing through, I had the Observatory plaza to myself the entire time.  After lunch and a few selfies to commemorate the occasion, I decided it was time to return to my car. 

The hillsides below Johnston Ridge were full of wild strawberry blossoms

Heading back down the first ridge, the light was nice, so I snapped a few more images of the flower-lined trail.  Judging by the abundant amount of blooms, it looked to be a good strawberry season.  I made a mental note to plan a visit later in the summer when the berries were ripe.

I need to come back at berry time!

Early starts are always a good thing.  On my way back down, I ran into at least five hiking parties between the Observatory and Loowit Viewpoint.  It seemed the rest of the world had woken up and decided to hike the same trail as me.  If I'd been even a half hour later I wouldn't have had Johnston Ridge Observatory to myself.

Wildlife sighting

Past Loowit Viewpoint the parade of people continued.  Still, most folks were being polite, covering their faces, and stepping aside, so I had no issues.

Lovely red currant bush in bloom

While descending, I passed a few lovely red current bushes in full bloom, which called for a quick photo stop.

Red currant flower close-up

The closer I got to the Boundary Trail/Hummocks junction, the more people I encountered.  And the closer I got the parking lot, the less considerate people became.

Toutle River's barren channel

By the time I returned to the Hummocks Trail it was packed with people.  This short scenic loop brought out the novice hikers in droves.  At the junction, I was dismayed to see several kids clearly off trail, kicking rocks down a hill.  (In this sensitive area that is still recovering, hikers are supposed to stay on the trail)  I was saddened to see several picked wildflowers lying in the middle of the path.  And nearly every group (and most were large) I encountered wouldn't move aside at all and no one was covering their face.  As I covered the final half mile to the parking lot, tired from having hiked nearly 10.5 miles, my patience wore thin as I continually had to step off the trail to let mobs of people pass by.  It was the longest half mile of my life!  (Note to self - never visit Mt St Helens on a holiday weekend)

Goodbye MSH!

Despite the rough ending, it had been great to visit Mt St Helens, hike a new trail, and honor her 40th eruption anniversary.  Wonder what the area will look like in another 40 years?

Climbing Mt. St. Helens - Photos From the Past

The year was 1995.  I'd befriended a co-worker named Carol, an avid hiker.  During the summer, Carol took me under her wing and introduced me to many of the popular trails in the Columbia River Gorge.  She provided the spark that kindled within me, and grew into my current love of hiking.  My obsession with self-propulsion to high places all began with Carol inviting me on a memorable climb that summer.

Size matters!  Click on any image to enjoy a larger version.

Signing in at the Climber's register

Carol's family purchased a permit to climb Mt. St. Helens, the northwest's most famous volcano.  As everyone knows, MSH exploded spectacularly in May of 1980.  For many years afterwards, the mountain was declared off-limits.  But as things quieted down, the Forest Service slowly opened up areas surrounding the blast zone.  By the summer of 1995, climbing to the summit was again allowed, but numbers were restricted to 100 people per day.  To maintain the designated limit, visitors were required to obtain an advance permit, which allowed a party of up to twelve people.

The foresty portion of the trail

So early one clear August morning, I joined Carol's family at the climber's bivouac, the official trailhead for the south climbing route up Monitor Ridge.  Our party included Carol, her father, her two sisters, the youngest sister's boyfriend, and a friend of the other sister. 

Huckleberry picking break

We started out on a nice well-graded path through the forest.  It was a pleasant first two miles, highlighted by a couple of huckleberry breaks from the bushes lining the trail.  I began thinking this climb would be a piece of cake, but Carol's youngest sister warned me "take a good look at this trail, because on the way back it will seem never-ending."

Leaving the treeline

We hit the treeline at the 4800 foot level.  Beyond this elevation, climbing permits were required.  As we ventured out of the forest into the barren, rocky wasteland, a final sign ominously reminded us of this fact.  The climb would get tougher from here on out!

Clambering over large rocks

Our trail disappeared, and we began navigating our way up the mountain following wooden posts stuck into rockpiles.  The route steepened sharply, and we clambered along, scrambling over huge boulders, remnants of an old lava flow.

Follow the wooden posts

At first, I found climbing the boulders to be great fun.  But as we ascended and began to get fatigued, the novelty wore off.  Would this rockpile ever end?

View to the summit ahead

With no shade, the sun began to beat down upon us.  But the clear, blue skies above made for some magnificent views, both of the forested valley below and the summit ahead.

Photo op at one of the monitors

We came upon the first of two tripod-shaped monitors.  These monitors consist of mirrors that reflect off of laser beams used to measure the mountain's swelling.  These measurements aided scientists in the prediction of future eruptions.  The monitors also made for a cool photo op. 

The final trudge up an ash plain

After climbing up yet another ridge of boulders, my party came upon the second monitor.  Beyond this device, the boulder field thankfully ended.  But it was replaced with something even tougher - a steep plain of fine-grained volcanic ash.  Traveling through this ash was like walking in sand.  Ascending the slope, it seemed I slid down two steps for every one I took up.  Progress was painfully slow.  I didn't think I'd ever make the summit.

Summit victory photo! (Mt.Adams in the background)

I inched my way slowly up the crumbly ash slope.  Step by step, the crater rim began to get closer.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I pulled my weary body to the very top of the mountain.  And, oh what glorious views awaited! 

Views from the top - Spirit Lake and Mt. Rainier

This was my reward - magnificent vistas in all directions.  To the east you could see Mt. Adams.  To the south, a hazy Mt. Hood beyond the forests and lakes.  But the most amazing view of all was the view to the north, into the crater itself. 

When MSH gave way, the eruption blew out the entire north side of the mountain.  Standing up on the south rim, one could see crater walls on three sides, with a barren plain extending north.  The steep crater walls were a multitude of grays and browns.  The sparkling blue waters of Spirit Lake stretched beyond the rocky plain.  And far in the distance, snow-capped Mt. Rainier poked above the horizon.

Lava dome inside the crater

But the lava dome in the crater's center stole the show.  It was an amazing mass of steaming brown lava.  Kind of looked like a giant cowpie!  The dome was supposedly still growing, albeit very, very slowly.

Resting up before tackling the trip down

The steep climb up had been tough on Carol's middle sister and her friend, and they lagged behind the rest of us.  So once on top, we had a snack, and laid down in the sun to wait for the last two members of our party to arrive.

Lots of people on the summit

We were by no means alone on the summit!  By mid-day, a large crowd of hikers had amassed along the crater rim.  Everyone was either peering into the caldera, resting, taking photographs, or having lunch.  It was an interesting group of happy hikers, all enjoying a wonderful sunny day atop the mountain.

Heading down

Carol's sister and her friend finally joined us at the summit, 45 minutes after our arrival.  We allowed them time to rest and refuel, but by then it was past mid-day, and we still had a mountain to descend.  Time to pack up and bid this spectacular crater rim goodbye.

Sliding down the ash plain

Although coming down was way easier than climbing up, the slippery, sandy slope was by no means a walk in the park.  Being novice hikers, no one had gaiters, and the fine-grained ash poured into our boots as we slid down the mountain, necessitating many "dump out your boot" breaks.

Some people decided to glissade down a small snowfield

There was a party of three men that had the right idea.  They found one of the few remaining snowfields clinging to the side of MSH, and easily slid down the icy slope.  That looked like a much better way to go - at least snow in your boots wasn't as irritating as gritty ash.  (Disclaimer - I've since learned from my mountain climbing friends that you have to be very careful when glissading down an icy mountain slope.  It's very easy to slide out of control, and you need to have an ice axe at the ready to control speed).

Water break

The trip down the ash plain was the easy part of our descent.  By the time we'd returned to the lava boulder field, my quads were beginning to feel shaky.  But now we had to climb back down over all these huge rocks.  Down climbing large boulders did not help in the least!

View from the monitor

My legs began to protest.  I inched ever so slowly down the lava field, making frequent stops to rest my weary quads.  Carol's dad, younger sister, and her boyfriend, being much fitter than me, blazed along far ahead.  But Carol, being the good friend she was, stuck with me and offered encouragement. 

Picking our way down the rocks

After what seemed an eternity, we came upon the treeline, and the beginning of the forest trail.  As Carol and I took a breather, a cute little chipmunk popped out from the bushes and leaped onto an adjacent rock.  The little fella was obviously used to hikers, and began a routine of absolute cuteness, trying to persuade us to part with our trail mix.  Yes, it worked.  We were such suckers!

Begging chipmunk

Then came the endless hike through the forest.  And Carol's sister was so right!  The trail seemed to go on and on.  By then my body was totally thrashed, my legs aching, my feet blistered.  I've never wanted to be done with a hike so badly.  The parking lot was such a welcome sight!

Total stats for the day: 9.5 miles round-trip, a whopping 4500 feet elevation gain. (No wonder my legs were dead!)

The south side of MSH, our climbing route (in July 2009)

That's my tale of my first, and only climb of Mt. St. Helens.  While digging through my old photo albums, I found these images.  I decided these would be great subjects to scan and use as a blog post.  So all of these photographs (except for the last one) are from an old film SLR camera that I lugged all the way to the crater rim and back.  Some of the prints look a little faded and the colors are funky, but the memories are as clear as ever. 

MSH has always fascinated me.  Every summer I do at least one hike around its base.  This year, I think it's time to try for the summit again.  Whether I ski up it (which is something I've always wanted to do) or wait until the summer months to hike it, summitting MSH is now firmly on my 2012 hiking wish list.  Stay tuned for updated photos and story, coming to a blog near you!