the north face A riveting view of Mount St

the north face rucksacks A riveting view of Mount St

Tara Bowen, age 11 when Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980, remembers the turbulent air, full of debris, as she and her father flew around the mountain.

Mount St. Helens began to show life March 16, 1980, with a series of small earthquakes. On March 27, the mountain produced its first eruption in 100 years. Richard Bowen took this shot April 13, 1980. By April 22, the first period of activity ended.

In the two months leading up to the explosion, Richard Bowen had logged 15 hours in gliders and small planes as he photographed and documented the mountain small and not so small explosions for his personal records. This view from the south, taken April 15, 1980, show fracturing.

Richard Bowen took this photograph, which has Mount Adams in the background, on April 23, 1980, during a quiet period before the historic eruption the following month.

Age 11 when the volcano erupted, Tara Bowen, to her dismay, noticed at times that neither her father nor his friend was flying the plane as they both took pictures.

The ash cloud from the eruption reached a height of more than 15 miles into the sky within just 15 minutes.

The May 18, 1980, eruption sent mudflows into the South Fork Toutle River, which was less affected than the North Fork Toutle River.

When Mount St. near the northwest side of the mountain, looking toward Spirit Lake.

Tara Bowen, age 11 when Mount St. Helens erupted in 1980, remembers the turbulent air, full of debris, as she and her father flew around the mountain.

Fresh ash and mudflow clog the South Fork Toutle River. The eruption set off the largest recorded landslide on Earth.

The ash from the volcano plunged Spokane, Washington, into complete darkness that Sunday.

Scientist Richard Bowen labeled this July 17, 1980, photo as showing a “pheretic explosion crater” on the south side of Spirit Lake.

The 1980 Mount St. Helens eruption blew down so many trees that the toll was calculated at 4 billion board feet, the amount of lumber to build 300,000 two bedroom homes. This photo was taken in July 1980.

This July 17, 1980, photo shows Spirit Lake, clogged with debris, from the south. Blast debris. The caretaker of the Mount St. Helens Lodge at Spirit Lake, Harry Truman, died in the blast. His body was never found. with one thing on her mind: the rebroadcast of Casey Kasem Top 40 radio countdown.

Tara turned on the radio but didn find the Top 40; instead, local DJ were buzzing with news that Mount St. Helens was erupting.

Tara looked out of her Northwest Portland home to see ash spiraling 12 miles toward the heavens. She ran to the home office of her father, Richard, a retired economic geologist from the Oregon Department of Geology and Mineral Industries. She told him to look up from his desk; he did, and then he reached for the phone.

need a plane, he said to his friend, a fellow private pilot who often flew with him in rented planes from the small Troutdale airport just east of town. Richard then turned to Tara. He considered the activity of Mount St. Helens to be the geologic event of his life. In the two months leading up to the explosion, he logged 15 hours in gliders and small planes as he photographed and documented the mountain small and not so small explosions for his personal records.

As Richard drove east on Interstate 84, Tara felt lucky because they weren stuck in the clogged westbound lanes. Then she realized that the westbound cars were heading away from the mountain, and the eastbound vehicles seemed to be only fire trucks, police cars and ambulances.

Richard drove onto the tarmac and right up to the Cessna 172, tail number N75827. His friend, who finished the preflight check, was waiting with his camera.

Richard felt confident in this plane. It was his regular rental, and he knew its quirks. Tara climbed into the back of the four seater, and Richard and his friend climbed in front. Richard taxied onto the runway, pushed the throttle forward and lifted the plane into the sky. He first turned north, and then east toward the mountain.

Richard stayed quiet as he flew. He was a veteran and father of four daughters and one son, and, according his wife, Janis, he never got a word in anyway, so what was the point of trying to talk? He fallen in love with geology, he often said, because don talk back. the plane approached the mountain, Richard finally began to speak.

over the yellow zone. Now we in the red zone. saw lightning the likes of which she never seen before: red, pink, purple. The turbulent air, full of debris, felt as though it were boiling. She prepared to say something and then noticed that neither man was flying the plane. Both were taking pictures as they flew west.

Richard then put down the camera, turned the plane around to the east, and kept shooting as he flew along the edge of the red zone. As he did so, Tara noticed a helicopter disappear into the steam and ash.

Tara had flown enough with her father in times past that she had the opportunity to take the controls a time or two. She feared her father would ask her to do it again so he could take better pictures. Finally, fear got the best of her and she spoke up.
the north face A riveting view of Mount St