October, 2020
I looked into the very heart of that volcano this morning. I now saw how she had erupted, how 1/3 of that mountain had been blown away in just a few moments, and how it had been blown directly towards where I was standing. I saw the new lava dome growing. And I heard her promise that everything she did in 1980 and in 1982 will happen again, even more violently. I’ll never forget that. How can anything beat that experience?
Well, maybe nothing can, but still I had one more place I wanted to see. On my drive back down from the mountain/volcano, back down towards my campsite at Silver Lake, I stopped and ate my lunch by the side of the road at another mountain overlook, and then I drove right past my campsite at Silver Lake Resort and kept on driving west to Interstate 5, then across I-5. One more small destination called to me.
The small town of Castle Rock.
I used to think the town of Castle Rock was the noisy and cranky conglomeration of gas stations and fast food restaurants and a few shops that were all located pretty much right on the exit/entrance ramps off the I-5 freeway. Well, that’s not Castle Rock. The small, lovely town of Castle Rock is actually a mile or so west of I-5.
Here’s the main street (above) in downtown Castle Rock. My truck was the only vehicle moving on the main street and, truly, when I took the photo above, I had simply stopped right in the middle of the street and then snapped several photos. No one cared. There were people walking around, and a few cars moving in the area, but it sure was a quiet town.
The bank and some offices above … and a drive-in coffee shop.
Just a block or so off the main street were several side streets of homes. The entire town was tidy and clean. It sure seemed like a nice place to live.
The home below was particularly handsome … the address was 51 Second Street. The address was not 51824 NW 357th Place Court South East … it was just 51 Second Street. How civilized.
I found one saloon in town … the Pastime Saloon, established in 1928 and its doors are still open for business.
As I drove around the edges of this small town, I learned that the town had been built, years ago, right up to and onto the shores of the Toutle River … you remember, that’s the river that flooded catastrophically when the mountain blew. Turns out that a whole lot of homes here were destroyed in that flood of water and ash and dirt and smashed trees all coming down stream very rapidly back in 1980. As a result, after the dust settled, so to speak, the town subsequently built a tall and very wide dike along the edge of the new Toutle River, all along that side of the town. The photo below shows the dike.
In the photo above, the Toutle River is off to the left, outside the photo, and the river is much lower than the level of the blacktop in the photo above. The upper blacktop is the top level of the dike and is walking/biking only … the lower blacktop is a small two-lane road … and to the right of that, lower than the road, is the former ground level where homes have now again been built.
Here’s another view of it below, with the Toutle River off to the right. You can see how much higher the top of the dike is than the houses that are now protected by the dike.
The photo above is a view from the top of the dike, looking down out over the Toutle River. The locals are obviously comfortable driving out onto sandbars in the river to go fishing.
The small town of Castle Rock was quiet and peaceful and felt most welcoming. Several people waved to me. When I parked near the top of that dike and got out of my truck to look around, two different people asked if I wanted information or directions. Nice folks, in a nice town.
The old 1980 bridge over the Toutle River.
After leaving the town of Castle Rock, I drove back towards the Silver Lake campground, but I decided to hang a left and check out the location of the old bridge that used to span the Toutle River here. The bridge was less than a mile from I-5 … it was about 52 miles from the volcano. Within a few days after the volcano’s eruption in 1980, friends of mine and I drove up here from Portland, Oregon. We had hoped to drive over the bridge and drive further up along the Toutle River to check things out. The bridge was closed! It was obviously already damaged even though it was still in place. We parked the car. Even though the bridge was damaged, we walked out onto the bridge and took photos of the twisting/bent frames. Those photos are in a box somewhere in my garage, someday I’ll find them.
The photo below was taken a month or so before the eruption. When I was here in May, 1980, right after the eruption, the level of the water in the river was as high as the roadbed, and the center of the bridge was starting to buckle, it was buckling sideways, being pushed downriver. A few days after my visit here, the bridge was ripped away by the force of water and dirt and ash and by the force of all of the thousands of trees coming down the river. This bridge was mashed and mangled, ripped off its supports and carried downstream.
The photo above was taken less than two months after the eruption. This is what was left of the bridge, deposited almost a mile downstream from where it had been originally.
The photo below was taken by me, today. This is the new bridge, higher, wider, stronger, and it’s in the exact same location as the original bridge. If you look really, really, really closely, you can see the big white truck parked at the very far end of the left side of the bridge. It’s a strong, wide bridge.
In the photo below, you can see the seemingly benign Toutle River flowing under the new bridge. Noteworthy to me is that in the sand/dirt along the near edge of the river below are large blocks of concrete. Those blocks were part of the support for the old bridge here, the one I walked out onto before that original bridge collapsed.
Great memories.
Back at my campsite on Silver Lake.
I finally headed “home” to my campsite after this spectacular day. First thing I did when I got back to my campsite and parked the truck by my trailer was to walk out to the lake, to check out the mountain. Ah me … fluffy white clouds. Gosh I sure was blessed with the view I had of the volcano earlier today.
I had a bite of supper in my trailer and then I walked back out onto the docks on the lake. With the moon above and a quiet little sunset off to the west, it was a lovely evening.
This was my last night here. What an amazing day, and what an exquisite way to end my adventure here.
What a lovely day you had! Thanks for sharing it with us and for the volcano history lesson. ๐
Hi CAB. You are very welcome for the history lesson and for the blog. Thank you for commenting and for being here. ๐ Welcome!
Ann,
Saw your post in Elsie and had to check out your blog. Itโs great! ๐
Excellent! Elsie is great isn’t it? ๐ Thanks CAB.
Nature is scary, isn’t it? While being beautiful.
Yes. Both. It’s such a blessing to experience both.
To go from that violent volcano to the quiet little town of Castle Rock was an excellent juxtaposition. Great blog posts and great photos. Very impressive.
Thanks Bill. Hadn’t thought of that … the complete change in feeling from standing right in the path of the volcano (should she erupt again while I was standing there), and then being in that equisitely lovely, peaceful, safe small town of Castle Rock. That was really nice, thank you.
I love that last sunset photo. Well, and the story about the bridge … you were there!? And what a great town Castle Rock is. I love this blog. ๐
Thank you Ruth, very nice words, they make me smile. ๐ And yes indeed I was on that very bridge exactly as described. The bridge was closed to vehicle traffic, but not to foot traffic, which seemed odd given the amount of damage that already existed. But, we lived to tell the tale. ๐
Aren’t little towns so charming?
I remember one trip traveling to the Oregon Coast, it was,
of course, drizzly and out of nowhere we caught sight of this tiny
coffee hut in a cute little village, similar to Castle Rock.
We ordered, and then saw the sign telling us that they only took
debit or cash.
Well, we were really looking forward to that coffee, and only had
good ol’ loonies and toonies ($1 and $2 coins) on us. The kind lady
just waved us through, but only after serving us first!
Will never forget that.
I love little towns. Charming indeed, and the people seem to care for each other even if they don’t like each other. ๐
Hey, Robin, what “american” doesn’t know that a loony and a toony are real cash, real money? Maybe Oregon is too far south for that, eh? But we here in Washington know cash when we see it. The woman in Oregon did the right thing, of course … we here in Washington would have grabbed your money! Ha! ๐
Eh! I think you are right, there.
Since Covid we haven’t used coins and good ‘ol paper money very much at all…
You are so right! It’s crazy that your made up address (51824 NW 357th Place Court South East) sounds perfectly feasible. Three cheers for simple street addresses!
Yes! Simple is better. ๐ Thanks, Jan.
Anywhere you can fish is a good place. That looks like a nice little town. Thanks for taking us along Ann. Your trips are great.
Fishing … nothing can beat fishing on a fine day. You’ve taught me that Tim, as has my Canadian friend Mark. ๐
Love the sunset photos. They are so sweet. But even so, the last one has a little kick to it. ๐
Indeed, that last photo did have a little energy to it, Shawn, thank you. The earlier photos during the evening were so soft, and yet the last few moments of the sunset razzled a bit. ๐