Dead Trees Standing, another Adventure with John in his Red Ford Truck

It’s September 4, 2021 and we head out I 5 North, connecting with 503 towards Cougar, Washington. We pass through tree tunnels, where trees bend over the road. We notice fir trees with dainty pinecones sitting upright on the branches. We slow down for a grouse crossing the road with its head held high and we see a chipmunk dash to the center of highway and disappear down a hole right in the middle of the road.  As we drive on, flurries of yellow alder trees rain down upon us. “It’s the first sign of fall,” we agree.

“Didn’t you tell me that you used to go camping near here?” John asked.

“No, but my brother Chris camped in Cougar every year with his wife Becky and her family. We came up once and he drove us around Yale Lake in his boat.” 

I tear up remembering Chris. He had to sell that boat later to pay for medical expenses when he was battling lung cancer. I remember a photo of him, sitting on my mother’s book case. His hair had grown in after chemo, soft and white and  ripples of the lake at Cougar provide the background. Such a serene scene.

John and I leave the Cougar area and drive up Forest Road 25, connecting with Forest Road 99, climbing up a narrow road toward the back side of Mount Saint Helens. We get out at a viewpoint and read a sign that identifies three mountains before us. To the left, rises Mount Adams, brown with white trails coming down its slopes.  “That’s probably where the sun doesn’t melt the snow,” John explains. Above Mount Adams, rests a circular cloud, looking like a UFO.  The middle mountain is Mt. Hood. We think about my grandson, who is hiking the mountain with his uncle this weekend. And finally, on the right, is Mt. Saint Helens, what’s left of it.

As we meander up the narrow, winding road,  John points out a site where a car, made famous by the volcanic blast,rests. The Parker family had parked there and hiked to a lodge eight miles away. They lost their lives when the mountain blew and their car sits, to this day, where they left it, rusted and flattened, with wild flowers growing through its hood.

We emerge from the forest-lined road and gaze out upon hillsides where dead trees are standing, ghostly monuments to the explosion on May 18, 1980. Many other trees lie on the hillside, knocked over by the blast. It’s like a tree cemetery.  But among the dead, new evergreens grow along with green ferns and bushes.

It’s been six years since my brother Chris passed away. His ashes are scattered at the Cougar Campground. And at Mt. Saint Helens, it’s been forty-one years since the volcano blew, but there’s still dead trees standing.  We saw two memorable places that day. It’s been another great adventure in John’s red ford truck.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

A poignant write Shelley. Your travels with John took you to some beautiful places which evoked memories. I lost a younger brother to cancer seven years ago, such a huge loss. So sad to hear your brother had to sell his boat to find his cancer treatment. May our brothers rest in eternal peace. Thank you for letting me sit on the back seat again for your descriptive excursion.

Chris

[Shelley Warner]

What a nice review. I like the part where you thank me for letting you sit in the back seat. I'm sorry about your brother. It's such a hard thing to go through. I really felt like I was in the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23). First Chris was diagnosed with cancer. Then, Jeff our youngest brother, died suddenly in his sleep. While Chris struggled with cancer, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. Chris died in January 2015 and Tom in June. Six years have gone by. Happy to be out of the valley.

[Samuel Dickens]

It's so hard for me to believe it has been that long since the mountain blew its top. I had already left the area when it happened, but was saddened by such a tragedy. As you now take us there, I am even more saddened by the details of your brother. Having lost my brother at a way too young age, I feel the sorrow. (Heart disease and cancer--damn them both!)
Yet among tragedies past, there is hope of renewal. I always enjoy these rides with you and John.

[Shelley Warner]

Thank you Samuel. I am sorry for the loss of your brother too. Yes, them heart disease and cancer. And you're right, there is hope for renewal. I don't know what I believe anymore about life after death, but a couple days before Chris died, he had a dream about our youngest brother, who had died in his sleep from a diabetic complication two years before. Chris woke up and told his wife that he was going to go fishing with his brother. Yes, it's amazing that 41 years have gone by since the mountain blew its top. Did you live in the area before it happened?

[Samuel Dickens]

I was stationed on Whidbey Island in the early seventies. While there, my wife (now ex) took a few excursions around the mainland. In my dad's last days, he told of visits from those on the other side. More than once, he said he looked forward to seeing his mother's flowers again. Cancer--he was 91. Heart disease took Mother at age 48, my younger brother at 56, and has been trying to take since I was 43.

[Shelley Warner]

I see a typo in my first comment. I meant to say damn heart disease and cancer. My father also died at 48 from heart disease, like your mother. I'm sorry for all your losses. I liked that your dad told of visits from the other side. My husband was a pastor and a musician. He wrote a song "On the Other Side". We played it at his memorial. It was very meaningful.

[Coyote Poetry]

A wonderful story shared dear Shelley. I love the history shared and the photo. I take my grandchildren to places my grandparent took me. Create memories for them. Thank you my friend for sharing the amazing story.
Coyote

[Shelley Warner]

What a nice reviewer you are, Coyote. I enjoyed reading your thoughts. Thank you.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did love the story and you are welcome dear Shelley.