A collection of legends and tales around Mount St. Helens.
Collection contains oral accounts from survivors who witnessed the unknown, Native American legends, urban legends, newspaper articles, and first-hand eyewitness accounts from the mountain.
Many people who visit Mount St. Helens tend to go for the attraction and not the mystery. I have hiked most of the trails at Mount St. Helens, I know them so well that I do not even need a map. Pure instinct I guess you can say. Most of the time I go to the volcano to conduct field study or to give tours to those who are not afraid to get their hands dirty, but as for the other times...I simply go because I love the serenity this place casts upon my soul.
I was visiting Mount St. Helens with my family in August of 2007, and to say the least, they aren't the type to go hiking. So, I have learned to trust my own instincts and knowledge, for hiking alone should never be done unless you are completely sure about your own skills as a hiker, have basic survival training, and know exactly where you are hiking and the terrain that you will be in.
There are many forms of hiking: from backpacking to day hiking. On average, a day hike should go no longer than eight to ten miles roundtrip.
However, I am the type of hiker that likes to put in sixteen to twenty-four miles on foot, per day, in the mountains. I may not be the perfect speed hiker; but what I lack in speed I certainly make up in endurance. Many of my colleagues call it an 'unnatural' pace, and just cannot keep up with me while in the field.
Heading to Johnston Ridge (Coldwater 2), I made a split decision that I would walk the rest of the eighteen miles to the observatory. So, my family let me out at the trailhead title, 'The Lake's Trail', and from that trail I would take the 'Boundary Trail' over to Johnston Ridge Observatory, a simple sixteen-mile backcountry hike, and I said that I would do it all in only three hours.
My family thought that I must have lost it finally, but my endurance had never failed me before. If I said that I was going to be at a place by a certain time, usually I am. So, I immediately packed a light bag with just a light windbreaker jacket, a knife, and matches. The hike up to Coldwater Peak was a tough hike for any hiker, but as I switched back through the forest at a dead sprint, it was a race to beat the clock--and I loved it!
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About halfway up Coldwater Ridge, I took a moment to rest in the shade of the returning forest which was obliterated in the 1980 eruption. I looked down at the ground to make sure that my shoes were still tied. Upon the earth, I saw hundreds of little tree frogs jumping down to Coldwater Lake for the night. There were so many that the ground looked like it was a moving greenish-black mat. I did my best not to walk on them, but with how many there were, that was certainly an impossible feat. So, I was forced to take the lives of innocent frogs as I left the shelter of the forest and headed into the desolate.
When I came to the ridgeline, the elevation gain was minable, so I jogged the ridge, trying to gain a few minutes so that I would have some time to take photographs when I reached the saddle of Coldwater Peak.
About three-fourths of the of the way across the ridge, I came upon the ruins of the Weyerhaeuser Company logging skyline crane and big tractors. The skyline crane's main tower was toppled over, its metal was twisted and all the plastic was melted off. The crane itself was almost completely buried in ash.
