Crayola Blue

For anyone wishing to draw today you would need a rainbow of crayons. Red volcanic rock, turquoise Lupines, purple Elephant Heads, orange and red Indian Paintbrush, pale green Horey Heads, yellow, magenta, and violet. But for the sky you would only need blue. The skyline trail, up the hills of Mt. Rainier toward the Nisqually Glacier, could have easily been the benchmark for Crayola colors. Stunning views of the mountain were bordered by some of the most interesting alpine flowers we have ever seen.

The skyline trail loops six miles from the Paradise Inn. It, like all the other trails in this park, is immaculately maintained. We saw pristine rivers, a medley of wild flowers and sweeping views. We caught glimpses of a young bull elk grazing in the meadow, a marmot nibbling near the rocks and a golden eagle coasting overhead. Not far from any point was Mt. Rainier itself; a mountain born our of fire, towering above all else to dominate the skyline. Our hike took us to the base of Nisqually Glacier and it was beautiful.

Seismic Signals

In 1992 Mt. Rainier was placed on the 'Decade Volcano' list. That means that scientists predict another eruption within decades. Records show that debris flows have occurred from its heights every 500-1000 years during the past 6000 years. The huge Osceola Debris Flow was one of the largest reaching as far as the Puget Sound. Seismographs today measure the subtle changes in activity deep within the mountain to help predict and better understand these volcanic eruptions.

One of these seismographs is located at the visitor center at Paradise. The center is an impressive building despite the scaffolding now in place while the new domed observation deck is constructed. Behind the center, Rainier looms. I stood in front of the seismograph machine and watched the needle produce a quiet even line. The paper crept slowly around the glass-entombed cylinder adding this new line to those of previous days. But then, suddenly, the needle jumped. A spike was born and as my eyes shifted from the seismograph to the wall behind it, I noticed that this spike bore an extremely close resemblance to the display spike indicating disaster. Looking over my shoulder now was a park ranger. He sucked on his lower lip.

"Hmmm, I've seen similar jumps all this week," he said. "All the big ones seem to come at the exact same time every day." He went back to sucking his lip.

Were we to bear witness to a molten cascade? Was this a pattern? The great mountain warning us of impending doom? Why weren't bells going off? An emergency warning sounding through the air? I looked at the ranger. "Should I run?"

"Naw, I think we'll be seeing these disturbances for another few weeks," the ranger paused, "then after that the construction on the dome above us should be finished and they'll go away." He gave me a half smile and walked away.