Camping Trip: Windy Ridge, Mount St. Helens, Washington

 Gary, Zach and I have hiked at Mount St. Helens a couple times before (Harry's Ridge in 2019 and Ape Canyon Trail last year), but it's a big mountain, and there was another trail to explore, one that began at the very end of a long forest road on the eastern side of the mountain. We drove through fog and clouds, glimpsing views of the flanks of the mountains around us, as well as a stunning vista of Spirit Lake, which is half-covered with dead white tree trunks from the 1980 blast, floating like ice on the top of the water.

We parked at the Windy Ridge trailhead and started up the Loowit Trail, a wide gravel road that wound through clouds that rushed up the mountainside to our left and flew up in poofs along the slope up to the ridge on our right. Daisies and bright red paintbrush flowers bobbed in the breeze. 

After nearly a mile, we cleared a shoulder of the ridge, and the clouds dissipated enough to reveal the crater-edged peak of Mount St. Helens, painted with snow. Within twenty minutes the clouds had burned away almost entirely, and the sun beat down on us as we ventured onto the wildflower-speckled wasteland along the flanks of the mountain. We crawled like ants toward the crater of the mountain, where forty years ago a third of the peak had melted off its roots, then exploded. A lava dome that rose shortly after the eruption loomed above us, bigger than it ever looked from the distant observatory we'd visited a couple years ago.

Now, directly in the blast zone, small tough conifers were growing back, and huge patches of purple lupine, scarlet paintbrush, and yellow cat-ear were reclaiming the pumice-pebble ground. 

Rivulets of snowmelt carved gullies into the landscape, and here alders— a nitrogen-fixing shrub/tree that's often the first to return after a fire— clustered into thick groves, providing places for brilliant green moss and ferns to grow. We even saw a toad the size of my palm, hanging out in the moisture of the glacial water!

The temperature wasn't that hot, but the unrelenting sun started to make me feel faint. I've not been dealing with heat as well as in the past lately, and so I have to watch myself by eating salty snacks and drinking Gatorade. After I dunked my long-sleeved backpacking shirt into an icy stream and put it on again, though, I felt a lot better.

Our destination was a waterfall called Loowit Falls, visible only from a spur trail that wound its way right up to the edge of the crater. A massive silty waterfall spewed from the ledge, roaring even from several hundred yards away. It was almost unbelievable that this much water could be pouring out more than halfway up the mountain!

After some snacks and a rest, we headed back down, forming a loop that took us across the plains with a great view of Spirit Lake in the distance. We could also see Mount Adams off to our left, and in the far distance, looming despite being 85 miles away, was the peak of Mount Rainier. 

We had underestimated how long the trail was (Gary thought it was 6 miles; it ended up being 11), but fortunately we had brought our Sawyer filter and were able to chug some fresh mountain water to keep us going. We joined back up with the Loowit Trail and retraced our steps, now able to admire the sweeping view since the clouds had cleared.

I felt pretty weak and tired by the time we returned to the car (although I felt a bit better about it once Zach checked his phone and learned that it was 11 miles). I was more than ready to get to our camping spot for the night, Iron Creek Campground. Off we drove along pothole-ridden, railing-less roads with a breathtaking view around every corner. Washington, once again, never fails to amaze me with its beauty.

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