About 11 am I arrived at the visitor center at Bryce Canyon National Park. There were campsites available, but the temperature was a “brisk” 35º and I opted to continue on my way, knowing that I could return later. I also wanted to stop at Kodachrome Basin State Park, which was nearby, but not when it was so cold.Utah Route 12, which is the highway that passes by Bryce Canyon and goes north towards Capitol Reef National Park, is a Scenic Byway. And it is quite beautiful. The little bit that I saw of it anyway. It started out rather nicely. But the sky was strange looking. The clouds were blue!
The canyons near Escalante, looking westward. The midway point between Bryce Canyon and Capitol Reef parks.
Another view of the canyons, taken 10 minutes later, looking west.
The canyons near Escalante, looking to the north. Uh, oh.I drove into the clouds and saw no more pretty views for the next hour. It snowed. Quite heavily in some places, but the roads were clear. It snowed all the way through the Boulder Mountains.
Near the summit (9600 feet high) of Boulder Mountain the sky started to clear. Steam was rising from the road surface. It felt quite warm when I stepped out of the van to take the picture. But alas, it was just a temporary clearing. It snowed, and sleeted, and slushed most of the way to Torrey, the turnoff to Capitol Reef.Once again, I stopped at the visitor center. The campground was full. There was BLM land nearby where I could spend the night if I wished. But it was early afternoon, the weather was lousy and more of the same was predicted for the next day. I opted to continue on my way, knowing that I could return later. At least I glimpsed portions of the scenery as the highway meandered through the park.
A check of the map showed that Goblin Valley State Park was an hours drive to the north on Utah Route 24 so I set my sights on spending the night there, which is what I did.
Shortly after I arrived at Goblin Valley, hail fell. Then it thundered and rained. Along about sunset time I glanced out the window and saw the tail end of a rainbow! Ah, Mother Nature in all her glory!Yes, the photo is slightly out of focus, but it was such an unexpected and glorious sight that lasted only a few moments. It was there. Then it was gone.
You may think that I “complain” a lot about the weather. It's cold. It's hot. The rain. The snow. But I also frequently mention the beautiful blue skies and sunshine. Mother Nature can be fickle and even cruel at times, but you can be assured of just one thing – she is constantly changing. When you are living “on the road” the conditions “outside” are everything, you become more aware of them. The conditions affect your mood. They affect what you do and when you do it. So, yeah, I talk a lot about the weather. It's all I can do. Can't change it, though sometimes I wish I could.
The western side of Mount Saint Helens as seen from the Visitor Center at Silver Lake, 46 road-miles away.
From a viewpoint on the north-northwest side.
Clouds covered the upper half of the volcano for the entire afternoon with an occasional break, which briefly revealed the peaks. This, and the remaining photos were taken from the Johnston Ridge Observatory. Named for David A. Johnston, a volcanologist on duty nearby on that fateful day. His last words were “Vancouver, this is it!”
The lateral blast exploded to the north toward what is now Johnston Ridge and, quite literally, destroyed everything in its path.
The mountains and valleys were tall old-growth forest. Now all that remains are a few denuded logs lying about like pick-up-sticks.
A park service sign nearby tells a tale of the blast as “spoken” by this stump: “Step up and look at me carefully. Notice my shattered trunk, my missing top. I once stood 150 feet tall, surrounded by a beautiful forest of green and growing trees. When the blast exploded sideways out of the mountain, it plowed through the debris avalanche and swept across the landscape, picking up and carrying large chunks of rock, ice, and splintered wood.”
Down in the valley, the blast dumped 680 feet of debris, filling Spirit Lake to the east with logs and ash.
Johnston Ridge was completely denuded. Spirit Lake lies beneath the far ridge at left-center and St. Helens rises up from the valley on the right.
The early evening light emphasizes the ridges and the gulleys now being carved out by the flow of water.
Another view of cloud shrouded St. Helens from Johnston Ridge in the early evening. All photos were taken on Sunday, September 12th.
