djm wrote:If you click on the picture at the top of the thread you will find it is a link to a web site with links to lots more web sites.
I did click on the picture (cuz I click on ALL of Denny's pictures now), but I'm just too lazy to go to all of those places. So I wanted you all to answer the questions for me, since you're so smart and know so much
Someday, everything is gonna be diff'rent
When I paint my masterpiece.
Tell us something.: I used to be a regular then I took up the bassoon. Bassoons don't have a lot of chiff. Not really, I have always been a drummer, and my C&F years were when I was a little tired of the drums. Now I'm back playing drums. I mist the C&F years, though.
Tell us something.: This is the first sentence. This is the second of the recommended sentences intended to thwart spam its. This is a third, bonus sentence!
-I was with my sweetie-pie on the south slope of Mr. Rainier when St. Helen's 1980 blast hit, and we thought the black cloud moving in was a hailstorm- and so delayed walking up Muir snowfield for the day. We stood in the parking lot of the visitor center and saw as the "hail" blew over that it streaked clothes and had a flinty scent. The conclusion was obvious, and a ranger let us into the seismograph room to check out the jolt registry.
-The park service had no idea what to do with people as leaving required driving through thick falling ash. We left but stopped enroute to clean ash piles from the car and fabricate a carburetor pre-filter from hosiery to prevent ash intake. The streetlights at Longmire turned themselves on at the height of the ashfall dimness.
-Since, we've enjoyed the "blowdown" area many times in winter around St. Helens as the blast leveled the forest and left the area a wonderful nordic skiing zone. Only in the last few years has regrowth grown tall enough to penetrate the snowpack and limit skiing. Its a beautiful area!
Cynth wrote:
I would have thought that the end had come if I had been in that situation. Did you know that you were far enough away when you couldn't drive anymore? I don't mean to be asking an insensitive question, I just can't imagine what it would have been like. How did you even know what direction to drive in?
Cynth, not insensitive at all. It really wasn't a matter of getting far enough away. We simply drove until it was impossible to go any further. For a while we could follow the road's fog line which was just barely illuminated in the glow of the headlights. Before long, however, we couldn't even see that and the headlights were useless because the beams couldn't penetrate the airborne ash. So we made for the only light that we could (barely) see, the farmer's front porch light. I think we were headed generally northwest; knowing the ash plume was traveling from the southwest to the northeast, that would've been the shortest distance out. But we never came close to getting out from under it. We just had to wait for it to blow over.
