Roger and I got a chance to go up to Mt. St. Helens last week. I'm so glad we saw it early, when you could still see all of the devastation. Next year makes 30 years since she blew. You can still see where the side of the mountain flowed down the valley, but the evidence of the blast that knocked down all the trees for miles has been grown over. You reach a sign that says, "Blast Zone" and there are trees all around, granted young ones, but it definately doesn't look like the moon anymore. The alpine areas are coming back more slowly, but the wildflowers are beautiful and happy. These penstemon and some lupine were growing in the shade of alder trees that had trunks 6-8" in diameter near Cold Water Lake where my Dad fished about 15 years ago.
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