Mt. Mazama Ash Mystery

I recently went to visit my daughter, Jennifer, in Medford Oregon. I arrived at the La Quinta Motel and went to my room on the 4th floor. It had been a long drive and I was tired. I walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open and there in front of me was Mt. Mazama.
Mt. Mazama is breathtaking and dominates the skyline looking east from Medford. It is hard to believe that it once was nearly double the size it is now. Most people come to Mt. Mazama to see Crater Lake which lies within it. 7000 years ago, Mt. Mazama exploded with a force several hundred times that of the Mt St. Helens eruption in 1980. After the eruption of Mt. Mazama, the throat of the Volcano was empty of it's magma and ash, and over thousands of years the rain filled it creating a natural master piece. I have been up there and stood on the rim and looked down into the stunning blue water. I have heard that it is too deep to be measured accurately.
It was by pure coincidence that the day before leaving for Medford, I happened upon an article indicating that in the upper Skagit River Valley is a deposit of Mt. Mazama ash 30 meters thick. It is sitting there in one big lump on both sides of the Skagit River and was discovered when Hwy 20 was cut through. Now keep in mind that Skagit County is near where I live in Bellingham, 400 miles away. How did the ash get all the way there and how did so much of it end up in the same place 10 meters thick? It is deposited across a narrow part of the valley as if a Giant had taken a giant scoop of the ash from down in Oregon, carried it all the way to Skagit County and dumped it out in that particular place. I just could not wrap my mind around this and was determined to visit the site when I got back to Washington to see it for myself.
I enjoyed my visit with Jennifer and my grandchildren. My other daughter Melissa and grandson Ethan had come with me and it was a nice trip and the weather was warm. The time went fast and before I knew it, it was time to head north for home. But during the time spent there I found myself staring at Mt Mazama as it seemed to be visible from everywhere we went. I took numerous pictures but didn't seem able to take one that did the Volcano justice. This was May and half the mountain was still white with winter snow. I felt deprived when looking at it because for thousands and thousands of years Mt. Mazama had been twice the size it is today and that there was no way for me see it the way it was then. Generations of humans did see it though, and I am envious. There were people living here when it erupted and I feel sorry for them. I imagine it killed some of them directly and reeked havoc in the lives of those who survived. That part of the world was different after the eruption and it took hundreds of years for the earth to recover.
My mind was on that ash deposit the whole way back to Bellingham. I eagerly began reading everything I could find about the eruption of Mount Mazama. I learned that the eruption had occurred 7000 years ago and that ash was deposited about 2 inches thick on the ground as far as 200 miles into Canada and actually covered most of the Northwest. So, again I wondered how did it end up 10 meters deep in one spot? I also learned that this layer of ash 7000 years old serves as a marker for archeology excavations. The layer is clearly evident and so right away Archeologists can determine if an artifact is more than 7000 years old by where it is in the ground in relationship to the layer of Mt. Mazama ash.
I have always been fascinated by the geology of the Earth and thought I would like to major in it in college. But realized that I was just not a math, chemistry, physics kind of guy. But I do love rocks and volcanoes and earthquakes and the rest. I can spend hours looking around in the desert or in the mountains at these things trying to experience their history on as many levels as possible. I was tempted to assume things about how this ash got here all in the same place, but still, in the back of my mind I knew there was a reason for this and that I had no idea what that could be.
I had to get to the site as soon as I could. One Sunday morning shortly after returning from Oregon, Marlene and I got up early, packed a lunch and took off in search of the ash. I had a description of where to find it from a geology field trip web site. It was a beautiful trip up Hwy 20 past Marblemount and on toward Newhalem. The site is between the two. I thought I had found the site and we got out of the truck and looked at what we thought must be the ash, but I could not convince myself that it was the ash. It looked like ordinary dirt and rock. But I thought that it might be ash and what else could I do. We continued up river and enjoyed the scenery and hiked a trail to an overlook that provided us with a breathtaking view as we took in the beauty of the river below and read plaques about the amazing history of man's ability to control this wilderness for hydro electric energy. I will write another blog about that another time.
When we got home, I reviewed my materials and found that I had miscalculated the location of the ash site, we had gone 7 tenths of a mile too far. The place I was looking at was actually dirt and rock. I was angry at myself for letting my excitement carry me away to the point of miscalculating the location. I told Marlene that I had made a mistake. She said that that was too bad but it would not be reasonable to spend more time and more money for gas to go back up there right away. And she was right it was more than 100 miles each way. But it was eating away at me. All night I was thinking about 10 meters of Mt. Mazama ash sitting up there waiting for me to check it out. In the morning, Marlene left for work at 5:30 am, I was on the road by 5:53 am. On my way out the door I grabbed Marlene's ice cream scooper and a sandwich baggie to collect samples. Being on the road erased my frustration from the day before. I was going to get this done and by the end of the day I would have in my possession actual Mt. Mazama ash.
Another reason I was so happy was that I had learned how the ash had ended up there 10 meters thick in that one place and it is an amazing story. I found the information in a on a geologic web site. It seems that John Riedel, a geologist with North Cascades National Park, put the mystery to rest in a report he filed several years ago. This is what happened, several hundred years before Mt. Mazama erupted, there was a massive rock slide in Skagit Valley. Rocks as big as small cars split from the steep mountain on the North side of the valley. The slide filled the valley with rock 130 feet high all the way across the valley effectively damming the Skagit River. This event created a lake 100 feet deep which backed up into the valley for 8 miles. Riedel named this lake lake Ksnea. The lake existed here for several hundred years and I am sure that generations of local natives hunted and fished along its shores and probably swam in its waters. It must have been beautiful. Then one day 7000 years ago Mt. Mazama exploded with unimaginable force. I wonder if the local Indians heard the blast that set the ash spewing into the sky. Or did they just begin to notice the fine talcum powder like textured ash falling silently from the sky. It fell for days and dimmed the sunlight. Riedel figured out that it had snowed in Skagit valley around the time of the eruption and the ash settled about 2 inches thick on top of the layer of snow throughout lake Ksnea's watershed area. Then, perhaps because of the ash, there was a rapid melting of the snow and the ash was washed into the lake at a relatively uniform rate. the ash was much lighter than soil so floated in the lake and because the river still had an outlet where it had been dammed, there was a current that carried it to a point about a half mile east of the slide where it slowly settled to the bottom of the lake, all at the same place, forming a 10 meter thick layer of sediment. Eventually, the river broke through the rock dam and emptied down the valley. The river eroded through the middle of the ash deposit but left it undisturbed on both sides of the valley where vegetation eventually covered it.
I easily found the ash this time and was amazed at how fine it is in texture. It is like powder. I took some pictures of it and collected a baggie full of it with the ice cream scooper. I have the baggie filled with ash on my bookshelf in my study. Sometimes I just hold it and sometimes I poke my finger into it and think about the journey it took from Medford to here. It is a reminder that our home, the Earth, is alive and dynamic. I would highly recommend that you explore it and appreciate when you can.

Blanchard Mountain Morning

I reached the top of Oyster Dome at around 8:30 in the morning. I did not see another person all the way up Blanchard Mountain. It is a four mile trip to the top and I was tired. As I stood on this rock taking pictures, I thought about the beauty before me and about the incredible way the Earth creates such wonderment.
Oyster rock was born on the sea floor 163 million years ago and far to the west of where it is now. It was part of a chain of oceanic volcanic islands created when magma oozed from the Earth's mantel. There is a split on the ocean floor and one side move to the east and the other to the west. It works like a conveyor belt in both directions.
Oyster Dome and the rest of the volcanic islands, inched along on this conveyor belt until the whole chain was pulled down into the subduction zone between two plates. Twelve miles down, the mass got stuck. It could not be pulled down and so it was shoved north and east along the subduction zone until it collided with what is now North America. All of this debris was still crammed deep into the mantel but as pressure built it began to be forced up inch by inch over millions of years. The rock above Oyster Dome eventually weathered away and there is no trace of it today. And here I am standing on this amazing rock thousands of feet above sea level. I am just amazed at the world we live in and find geology just interesting as hell. The Pacific Northwest is truly a land of fire and ice. Right on Pacific Northwest! Right on.
I stood there taking pictures and appreciating all there was before me when I started to become increasingly aware that I was very much alone. I thought about the fact that I hadn't brought my bee sting kit, I am allergic to bees and could hear a deep buzzing noise reverberating from a nearby fallen tree. I braced myself for a feeling of panic that I expected within seconds. But then the thought that came to me was a strange one, I thought to myself, "You could get naked right now and no one would see you". That thought distracted me from any concern I was experiencing and I actually thought about getting naked. I didn't. But not because I thought it was a bad thing. I was just too tired to go through the hassle of taking my clothes off. You know, the Chuckanut Ridge does that to people. Teddy Bear Cove, a nudist beach, is down below the Oyster Dome to the south. I was told the day after this hike about some women I know who pulled off the road on Chuckanut Drive to let cars pass. While they were pulled over there, a man emerged from the woods stark naked and simply waved and got into his car and drove away.
I started to look back to the woods and realized that I had emerged from them somewhere else and wasn't exactly sure about where the main trail was from that spot. I decided that I needed to deal with this instead of forcing myself to sit there and worry about it. I left the sunshine and the beautiful view and entered the dark forest. Luckily I quickly found the main trail and started back down the mountain. I was now back to being alert and aware because I was still concerned about getting lost. I did have a final thought about my strange desire to be naked up on Oyster Dome. I remember thinking, " If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it actually make noise? And so, if a fat guy gets naked on top of a mountain and no body sees him, is it still disgusting?"
After descending about a 1000 yards down the trail, I glimpsed something purple through the trees. I thought, "Oh, someone is out here today." A short time later, I came around the bend and there in front of me, astonishingly, was my next door neighbor, Elody, with an Ophthalmologist. We just stared for a moment and then she asked, "Thad, what are you doing up here?" We were both pretty amazed. Here we are on top of a mountain in the wilderness and we run into each other. It is not like running into a neighbor at the store. We chatted for awhile and she told me that this was her favorite place and that she had come to say goodbye to it because she is moving to Michigan in two weeks. We hugged and I took off down the trail. I was thinking as I left her that I was so glad I wasn't standing there naked when we encountered one another. I was telling Marlene about this and she was laughing at the scene of that in her mind. She was asking if I could have imagined how embarrassing that would have been to have been standing there worshiping nature in the nude and then turned around to find Elody standing there horrified and speechless. But I know Elody well and even if she has an MBA and is a CEO, she is also a Hippie at heart. She would have understood.
About two miles down, My feet were killing me and I sat down on a bench that has been put there to mark the halfway point. I was exhausted when I reached it on the way up. Now, I was trying to dig down deep and feeling like I was a tough guy and was glad to be testing my manhood at my age. Then to my amazement two teenage girls jogged past me, going up hill. Not only were they jogging, they were chatting as they jogged with no sign of being short of breath. I felt like a big Wuss! I struggled to get up on my aching feet and took my wounded pride back on the trail. Shortly after that, I was passed by a family with small children who were skipping up the hill! I was thinking my exhaustion must just be in my head. Like the guy who accidentally got locked in a freezer and died of hypothermia. But they found that the freezer wasn't even plugged in and was never colder than 45 degrees.
Anyway, I made it back to my truck and back home. I plan on making the most of the summer as I seek adventures and hope you will indulge me as I blog about them. Please feel free to comment or make suggestions for an adventure. Take care.

We must not fear Utopia!

I am frustrated by the fear mongering and mean spirited dialogue regarding the immigration debate. I recently received a picture from a friend that showed several dozen recently rounded up Illegals all shackled together with border patrol agents escorting them down a trail in the desert. While I stared at the picture I recounted in my mind the headlines screaming from right wing sources about "terrorists" and "criminals" surging across the border intent on doing us harm. But what I saw there in that picture were "huddled masses yearning to be free". I don't doubt that there are a handful of criminals, and possibly a terrorist or two, within this picture somewhere. But by a vast majority, I believe those were fathers with dreams within their minds of a better life for their children. The same dream exactly that was in my great great grandfather's mind when he climbed aboard that ship leaving Ireland with a young wife nine month's pregnant. How can we condemn what a man does in the name of providing for his family? It is exactly what any of us would do under the same circumstances.
However, we have to look at reality and limitations that exist on resources to provide for these people that are heading this way. In the short term we can help them exist. Through a compassionate collaboration of government and faith based efforts we can support those people in the short term. But if the issues remain the same that are driving their flight from Mexico, nothing will change and we risk ruining the standard of living possible in the United States. I suggest we have to look at what can be done to shift the beacon of hope from the U.S. to a place within the Mexican borders. Why would we fear creating the foundation of Mexican utopia? We have no hesitation to throw billions toward military adventurism around the globe. We have military advisers in dozens of countries and we just accept it as necessary. Why don't we invest in creation of a zone in Mexico that generates food, employment, education and cultural Renaissance? I have dreamed lately of a 300 mile wide belt from Hermosillo to Tampico of just such activity. I see new cities connected to old cities by new roads with farms along side of them all the way. New universities teaching engineering and agriculture. Massive manufacturing centers surrounded by urban housing with large village squares where vendors sell food and musicians play. Vibrant school systems that produce well nourished and well educated students for the universities and workers for industry. Everywhere sculpture is evident and people are free to think and create. I have no doubt it is possible.
But I fear, what Americans really desire is to increase suffering in Mexico. In our minds we believe some twisted thought process that assures us that if we can view others hopeless and slowly sinking into despair, it is proof that we are better than they are. Americans want to point across the border at the suffering and be able to tell their children that this is proof of our superior standing in the eyes of God. I know in my heart that God does not acknowledge pathetic imaginary lines drawn by man on the beautiful earth creation. I believe such things are in fact offensive to God. Utopia is within possibility in Mexico if we cared. And utopia is possible for us in the United States too, the world and most of all, it needs to be in our hearts as we envision a future for those citizens of all nations who will come after us.