Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument

David and I were checking off Washington’s national parks one by one. With Mount Rainier and Olympic National Park under our belts, next up was Mount St. Helens – an active volcano known for its infamous eruption in 1980. Today, over 110,000 acres around the mountain is now dedicated as a national monument.

We drove Rte 504, the main road into the park that ends at a ridge just north of Mount St. Helens. Our first stop was the visitor center at Silver Lake. We watched an interesting video about the eruption, and the continuing recovery of the area’s vegetation and animal life. There was also a live webcam of the volcano, which made us a little nervous because it was slightly covered up by fog. David and I jumped in the car and crossed our fingers that the fog would clear up by the time we got up there.

Hoffstadt Bluffs Visitor Center was next. It was mainly a rest stop with a dining hall, gift shop, and helicopter tours. But a short walk from the building was a grove memorial to all the victims who lost their lives in the eruption – including Harry R. Truman, the famous resident who owned a lodge on Mount St. Helens. Truman had a deep love for the mountain, and stubbornly refused to leave his home, saying, “If the mountain goes, I’m going with it.”

We then entered the blast zone, an eight-mile radius around the volcano where virtually everything was obliterated or carried away. The Forest Learning Center played several videos with creepy footage from news reporters in the area during the eruption. Quotes from survivors were displayed on the walls, describing how hard it was to breathe – how every breath was like inhaling a clump of dirt in your mouth. We also read about the recovery efforts. Almost all of the trees growing in this area today were hand planted one by one.

It was extremely eerie driving through the blast zone. The landscape felt fabricated – all of the trees were the exact same height, same species, and growing in perfect rows. It was also very quiet – we learned that within a few miles of the blast was a “quiet zone,” where the blast was not heard because the sound waves from the explosion were pushed upwards. So of course our imaginations went wild – for all we knew the volcano could be erupting right now and we wouldn’t hear it. And the fact that it was a cloudy, foggy day with no one else on the road didn’t help either.

We were a little disheartened pulling up to the Johnston Ridge Observatory. Walking up to the overlook David and I were met by a solid gray wall. Mount St. Helens was completely buried in thick fog, with only a small portion of the land visible below us. We lingered around inside the observatory keeping a close eye on the weather outside, hoping it would clear up – but it never did. Knowing we had to be in Seattle later that night, we reluctantly started our drive back.

Down the road was the Birth of a Lake Trail, an interpretive walk explaining the creation of Coldwater Lake. The lake was formed by the 1980 eruption; a massive avalanche dammed Coldwater Creek with volcanic debris, blocking its natural outlet. The lake was calm, with dense fog hindering our view of the surrounding valley.

Before exiting the park we stopped at one last overlook, hoping to get a better view of the volcano. David and I probably stood there for half an hour – but it was worth the wait. The clouds slowly lifted, revealing more of Mount St. Helens. We were unable to see the entire crater, but we got a more expansive view of the unusual terrain. It was strange to think we were looking at a newly formed landscape, with life once again thriving in this lunar-esque environment; chutes ran down the crater forming small valleys with rivers flowing through them, patches of green plants and trees flourished from the rich volcanic soil, we even spotted a herd of elk grazing in a field below us. Although we didn’t get a picture-perfect view of the volcano, we felt like the murky day added to our experience of its destructive history.