Mt St Helens

I was ten in 1980, the last time Mount St Helen’s erupted in southern Washington. Its eruption, although expected, took over fifty lives and forever changed the landscape of southern Washington, and the line of thirteen stratovolcanoes stretching from Mt Baker in northern Washington to Lassen Peak in Northern California.

I remember the eruption only because my Grandma Arneson gave me a small clear jar, the kind that you buy with horseradish in it… taller than it is thick, with a screw on white metal lid. The jar was filled to the top with ash from the eruption, and had a handwritten note taped to the side simply listing its contents: “Mt St Helens volcano ash. 1980. Love, Grandma Arneson.” It sat on my bookshelf for the rest of my childhood, and I regarded it regularly. I don’t know why she thought I’d like a jar of volcanic ash… a memento from a catastrophic event; but she was right. I would remain intrigued by that event, and mountain, for years. I can still hear and feel the grind of the lid when I screwed it back on after opening it to look at the fine grey powder that covered Washington and much of the west coast. At the time, I never would have imagined that over forty years later I’d be climbing to the top of it with my two oldest daughters, Lillian and Eleanor.

Ever since moving to Washington state from Arizona in 2009, the outdoors have been an important part of our life. You can’t drive through western Washington without seeing Mt Rainier, the State’s tallest volcano, standing high above the horizon like a sentinel. On clear days, you’ve heard someone utter the phrase “the mount is out.” And if you live in the Pacific Northwest and can honestly say the thought of climbing Ranier, or by it’s native name “Tahoma” has never crossed your mind, I’m surprised.

Our kids have been taking to the trails in the PNW (or wherever we are visiting) ever since I could put them in our Deuter kid carrying backpack. Everyone one of them rode in it for countless miles in the woods, before they could walk, and eventually carry their own gear, on hikes both short and longish.

Our nightly ritual includes reading to the kids, usually books about the outdoors. Some of their favorites have been survival stories like the “My Side off the Mountain” trilogy and “Julie of the Wolves” by Jean Craighead George, who I met as a fourth grade winner of my school’s “young authors contest.” They’ve devoured the “Hatchet” series by Gary Paulson, “Call of the Wild” by Jack London, and even survivor fiction by Bear Grylls. Earlier in 2022, however, Elle and I read “No Summit Out of Sight” by Jordan Romero, the youngest person to summit the highest peak on each continent. Elle decided then that she wanted to climb mountains, starting with Mt Rainier. I told her we’d have to build up to it, but we could start smaller… say, Mt St Helens. Close by (a three hour drive), non technical, and relatively easy at 10 miles round trip with an 8500’ish summit and just shy of 5000’ elevation gain. She agreed.

We read Krakauer’s “Into Thin Air” next, about a disaster resulting in the loss of several lives on Mt Everest. That book somehow made her want to climb mountains even more. We researched and got our permit for September 1st, 2022. We were committed.

Before the trip we made two agreements: one, with the average round trip time being about seven and a half hours, I told them we would turn around at the five hour mark, even if we were close to the summit, so we didn’t exhaust ourselves and have trouble going back down. Two, if any one of us wanted to turn around at any time, we all would turn around, no questions asked. The deal was sealed.

As we started gearing up for backpacking and bigger hikes and climbs, Lillian, Caroline, Wyatt and I did a shake-out trip to the Ozette Triangle on the Pacific coast of Olympic National Park.

While it covered just shy of ten miles in three days, we were all hooked. More on that trip another time. For whatever reason, Elle wanted to sit that trip out.

On our little loop trip I realized my Salomon hiking boots were done. I tried on a bunch of different boots at REI and settled on Lowa Renegades. Too close to our Mt St Helen’s trip to properly break in, I knew I’d be doing it on the volcano and hoping for the best. Not optimal, but they would do great, no blisters…

When we planned the trip, we decided to camp at Mt St Helens Climbers Bivouac campground the night before, so we could set out early. We left the house around noon in our new-to-us 2002 Chevy Suburban 4×4… a couple months earlier we picked it up in Lake Stevens with 161,000 miles on it from the original owner for $5500, for just this purpose… she did great, and will hopefully see many more Bailey family adventures in her new life as a family truckster.

After a quick stop for some last minute essentials from REI we were on our way.

In Longview we stopped for some pizza at a local joint, and continued on to Climbers Bivouac. On the last stretch of paved road before we arrived, we saw the mountain straight ahead. I won’t lie: I questioned our decisions and wondered if we would make it all the way up.

As the road wound around Alpine lakes, and through quaint Cougar, Washington, we had plenty of time to contemplate the next days hike/ climb. We ended our drive at the Climbers Bivouac campground in Gifford Pinchot National Forest. Climbers Bivouac consists of several first come first served sites, which were fortunately all open when we arrived around three. We picked what we thought would be a large secluded site in the back corner and set up camp. After setting up our big old REI half-dome tent, we tried to enjoy our now lukewarm pizza next to the currently prohibited fire ring.

Hot and dry conditions meant we would be cooking s’mores over the jetboil later.

The curious hornets would also drive us to finish our pizza in the Burban (as referred to by Luke.)

After dinner we checked out the trailhead and and the sign in sheet where we would indicate our departure early the next morning.

We passed a woman who looked like she just finished her hike and was loading up her Subaru. She looked tired and discouraged. We asked her how it was. She said she didn’t make it to the top, and it was hot. She wished us good luck and recommended getting an early start.

We returned to our site and packed our gear for the next day. Way too much gear. If you hike you know about the ten essentials… intended to keep you out of trouble the ten essentials ensure you have everything you need to be safe. I packed and unpacked my backpack a few times, eventually settling on bringing too much stuff… a packable jacket, rain gear, first aid kit, emergency bivy sack, too much food, and just enough water (about six quarts).

As it turned out we could have done without most everything but the water and a little food. In total, about 25 lbs of gear. After packing we relaxed at camp before bed, considering what was in store for us the next day. Elle alerted us to a blacktail deer meandering next to our site.

With no cell service, I messaged Tara we would be heading to bed soon from our Garmin InReach mini. The evening cooled off quickly, and we set the alarm for 0400. We all fell asleep pretty quickly, but slept lightly until we were awakened at 1am by an arriving group of hikers who intended to eat breakfast on the summit and watch the sunrise. Their loud voices woke the campground, and their prep, which seemed to last forever before they finally departed, made sleep seem unlikely. Sleep came however, and was abruptly ended by a too early alarm at 0400. I momentarily contemplated going back to sleep due to the middle of the night wake up, but got out of my cot anyways, and turned on the camp light. The girls got right up, eager with anticipation. After getting dressed, and making coffee on the jetboil, we were on our way.

I indicated in the registration book our anticipated return time would be 2 PM. We were all on trail at 4:45 AM.

The Mt St Helens hike consists of three distinct sections: the easy forest hike, the boulders, and the loose ash and scree. In the forest hike the now mature trees were not there after the eruption. Among them stood reminders of the fateful day, as tree stumps remained from behemoth old growth Timbers that were ripped apart, leaving only a shredded few feet.

With our headlamps, everything still appeared to be lightly dusted with ash, even after all these years. It’s likely from ash kicked up by hikers, but the visual was striking. Half way into the forest portion there was a ruckus in the trees. A large animal, or maybe a Sasquatch, leaving the area abruptly to avoid detection. We made sure to talk more to let whatever it was know were were people, and we didn’t want any trouble. At about 2/3 of the way through the gradually rising forest portion the sky began to glow with the rising sun, and a fire orange sunrise began to glow through the trees.

Boulders began to appear and signs directed us to the correct trail. We decided before we left we would stash some water at the edge of the forest trail, so it would be waiting for us to return. I stashed 2.5L, and the girls each left one Nalgene bottle. We left them under a shrub off the trail, and marked the location in our Garmin, labeled “water hiding spot.” And with that, we were off, and up.

As we ascended into the boulder field, we were walking among car sized boulders that were part of the material thrown from the summit in the eruption. On May 18, 1980, Mt St Helens summit was 9677’.

In seconds “the volcano lost an estimated 3.4 billion cubic yards (0.63 cubic mile) of its cone (about 1,300 feet or 396 meters in height), leaving behind a horseshoe-shaped crater (open to the north), with the highest part of the crater rim on the southwestern side at 8,365 feet (2,550 meters) elevation.” (https://www.usgs.gov/faqs/how-high-was-mount-st-helens-may-18-1980-eruption-how-high-was-it-after#:~:text=18%2C%201980%20eruption%3F-,How%20high%20was%20it%20after%3F,cover%20of%20ice%20and%20snow.) One can only imagine how the landscape changed on that day.

To see it now was awesome. Hiking on scree and rocks, we saw the real boulder field ahead. We were passed by a couple from France who stopped to talk. Like us, they were amazed by the beauty. The man grew up hiking in the French alps, but the woman noted they don’t have volcanoes like this, there. They continued out of sight. We would see them again on our final push, while they were decending. They offered encouragement to the girls telling them “only 30 minutes left”… something we would say a few times on the final ascent.

Through the boulder field you spend a significant portion of time scrambling on all fours over large volcanic rocks. I felt like we were on a road trip as the girls began asking “how much farther” at regular intervals. The summit was not in view yet, obscured by ridge after ridge of rocks to navigate. We encountered the 1 AM crew, and while I considered thanking them for the early morning wake up, decided instead to ask them how it was. They were giddy after having watched the sunrise and eaten breakfast from the summit. They were equally glad to be heading back down, as we would be hours later. We paused to watch the sun rise over a spur, and enjoyed the beauty of Mt Adams (I think) in the background.

Eventually we found our way to a weather station, where we enjoyed some snacks and water. Every hiking group we met along the way was friendly and encouraging. I donned my gators, as we would soon be in scree and ash as we ascended the final third of the hike.

Elle asked if she could ditch her pack (after several previous denied requests) and when I saw the tears, I acquiesced. I took her water in my pack, and became her, and eventually Lillian’s Sherpa for the final push. I asked both girls if they wanted to turn back. Both said no, but asked again “how much farther?” With the summit in sight, I knew it would be at least an hour of “two steps forward one step back” but also felt we had come too far to turn around.

It was almost 10 AM, and while Elle didn’t want to turn around she reminded me of our five hour turn around rule. We had been hiking now for 5 hours and 15 minutes. Maybe hoping I’d stick to my guns and demand a turn around as i promised, I again asked what they wanted to do, and offered “come on guys, we are so close.” We agreed we’d finish. As hikers continued to pass us they’d ask the girls how old they were, and told them they were doing a great job. I didn’t see any other kids on the mountain that day. The girls were doing amazing…. Persevering through a hike that felt hard to me.

After what seemed like an eternity in full hot sun exposure, we walked through ash and scree on mini switchbacks, hoping to find footholds where someone else stepped not too long before. Washington States newest glaciers were on both sides of the spur (Monitor Ridge) we were climbing up: Swift Glacier to the right and Dryer Glacier to the left.

Throughout the whole hike I came to recognize different shoe tracks, and look for ones that seemed to follow better paths. At one point I wished I could find the person who wore boots with a round dot pattern on their tracks so I could thank them for leading the way.

The view from the summit was amazing. A steep drop leads into the crater, with Rainier in the backdrop. A family from Bend offered to take our picture. I told them we were heading to Bend soon and they recommended that we climb South Sister. “It’s just like this, only longer.” I thought “maybe someday, but I’m gonna need a minute.” Reviews of south sister on All Trails suggest “this is the perfect trail to bring someone you hate.” Maybe someday. The noise from occasional rock slides into the crater were regular, and unnerving. I hoped our ridge wouldn’t crumble next. On this blue bell day, we were surrounded with views of Rainier, Adams, Baker, and Hood. What an amazing and volatile part of the world we live in.

After a short stay at the top, we adjusted our poles for the decent and headed down. While the scree was easier heading down in slide/ hike fashion, the boulder field was tougher. By now my legs were shaking, and wayfinding was rough. I picked (unintentionally) a particularly tough way down before watching a small group more easily descending a better defined trail to our east. We made our way to that trail, and the decent eased up. Along the way we collected the girls packs, and offered encouragement to those still heading up… with the heat and sun watching them ascending made me glad we abided by our alarm for the early start.

At the end of the boulder field we ran into a couple who got confused and turned right instead of left. He was sunburned and shirtless. She was crying. She said this was her first hike ever, and they had no water. I told them we’d be waiting at the edge of the forest trails, now in view, with extra water for them.

When we made it to the forest trail, my Garmin began alerting me to our hidden water. After a short geocache search, I found the bottles right where we left them. After having run out of water in the boulders, I was grateful for the fresh resupply. The lost couple arrived and I filled their bladder with one of our extra bottles. We put our packs back on and wouldn’t see them again. The now descending forest trail offered some shade, and relief. I still heard regular “how much farther” and Elle predicted “we are almost there” about every five minutes of our hour in the trees. We paused for a couple more photos along the way, and eventually found ourselves where we started, signing back in around 2:45.

When we arrived back at the suburban we brushed of the dust and ash we were now covered in. My once brown boots were now white, covered in the same ash that once sat in a jar on my bookshelf so many years earlier. The ash collected by my Grandma Arne that planted a seed all those years ago. I’m grateful for that small gift, and the memories it encouraged me to make with my girls. While Mt St Helens is far from the toughest mountain to climb, it felt like an accomplishment.

I told the girls I was proud of them. I knew there were times they wanted to turn back, but they never did. I told them they could do anything they set their mind to. I knew before we started this would either ignite or extinguish Elle’s mountaineering dreams. I asked Elle how she felt about climbing mountains. She asked when we could do another; Mt Adam’s perhaps. Then, someday, Rainier. I guess we have some climbing days ahead of us.

We drove to some Mexican food in a nearby town, and then continued home for the three hour drive. It was all an experience none of us will ever forget. And despite being a little sore, I woke up today wishing for another mountain to climb, and memories to make as a family.