I’ve always lived near a volcano. Most of them quiet. Most of the time.
Mt. Baker
I was born and grew up not far from beautiful Mt. Baker. It was part of our landscape. The way my mom talked about the mountain, it belonged to us—to her specifically. That’s the way people around the world tend to feel about their volcanoes.
Mt. Baker holds the record for the snowiest place on earth. But in 1975-76, that cold, serene peak spouted steam, letting us know it was still alive. Did we care? Nope. A little danger only adds to its mystique.
Love ya, Mt. Baker.
Mt. Rainier
Now I live 62 miles south of where I was born, between two volcanoes, Mt. Baker and Mt. Rainier. Everyone for miles around loves Mt. Rainier, even though, according to experts (and TIME Magazine), it’s one of the eight most dangerous volcanoes in the world. We don’t think about that, though. It’s too beautiful.
Here in Western WA, we have lots of overcast days. But when it clears up, we don’t mention the sun. We just say, “The mountain’s out,” especially if we have a good view of it.
The indigenous people in the area loved Mt. Rainier too. They had various names for it. One tribe called it, the mountain that was God. In one creation story it was called Giver of Water, meaning giver of life. The Puyallup Tribe called it Tahoma.
This photo of Mt. Rainier was taken from a highway in the city of Tacoma.
Taal Volcano
For a number of years, my husband and I and our three daughters lived on the other side of the Ring of Fire, in the Philippines. Our favorite daytrip from Manila was to Tagaytay, a beautiful spot 2000 feet above sea level and consequently much cooler than the coastal city of Manila.
I don’t know how many times we visited Tagaytay before I understood what I was seeing. Tagaytay Ridge, which has a diameter of 16-19 miles, is the volcano’s ridge. The lake is the caldera. And what appears to be a small volcano is just a vent. Small but dangerous. It’s on this list of the world’s ten most dangerous volcanoes, having erupted about 33 times in the last 500 years, most recently in 1977.
In 1975, my seven-year-old daughter and I and a group of women walked across the burning ground of the volcano (the vent). I described the excursion in an earlier post. I wouldn’t do that trip again. But I still love Tagaytay.
Yasur Volcano
For a few years, my husband and I lived in the South Pacific nation of Vanuatu, another place along the Ring of Fire. Geologically, Vanuatu is a young country, which may be why it has nine active volcanoes and only 319,000 people. None of the volcanoes are tall and snowclad like Mt. Rainier. In fact, two of them are below water.
Yasur Volcano may not be the most beautiful in the world. But it has other redeeming qualities. It’s unusually accessible. You can walk right up to the rim and look into the crater. And when you get there, it’s sure to be active. In fact, it’s been erupting continuously for several hundred years.
Eruptions I missed
I was in the Philippines when Mount Saint Helens erupted in Washington, and I was in the US for the explosion of Mt. Pinatubo in the Philippines. Both were large eruptions.
A lovely write up of volcanoes across the distances, Nikki. It sounds like you were enthralled by them in your childhood and later traveling and living with Eugene. They really look like mountains from afar in my opinion, like the photo of Mt Rainer. It is beautiful, so mighty yet looking so peaceful in the distance. I haven’t seen a volcano but the closest I’ve come to in the vicinity is Mount Merapi in Indonesia. I was traveling around Indonesia at the time and was a couple of hours away, and an active volcano.
Indonesia is famous for its many volcanoes, especially Krakatoa. I’ve been to Bali, but I wish I’d had a chance to see more of Indonesia.
Where I live now, we have mountains all around us: the Olympic Mountain Range across the sea to the west, the Cascade Mountain Range to the east, Mt. Baker to the north, and Mt. Rainier to the south. Each one is different, and we appreciate them all. Of course, the volcanic mountains look totally different from the mt. ranges, and yet, we seldom think of them as volcanoes.
Hello Nicki. I found your blog through a question you posed to Ally on The Spectacled Bean. It’s nice to “meet” you.
I just returned from a trip to Washington State, where I did get a peek at Mt. Rainier. I live near volcanos in Utah, none of which have been active for centuries. I did see the lava oozing out of a volcano in Hawaii, which was fascinating. And we stayed not too far from Irazu in Costa Rica.
Christie, I loved your “pearls of wisdom” post. It all sounds good to me. Thank you for checking out my blog. It’s nice to meet you.
When we take stock, many of us have been near volcanoes, even if we haven’t been there for their big eruptions.
The closest I’ve been to a volcano is walking on one in Hawaii. Your life of being adjacent to them is intriguing and reminds me of how differently we all define our realities.
Yeah. I guess living near volcanoes has made me hyper-aware that the earth is alive and constantly changing. Like society. Like culture. I find that sometimes scary and difficult but also wonderful. We also have earthquakes here. I’ve been through two rather large ones. The first one, when I was in kindergarten, seemed fun. I told my mom it was like riding a rocking horse. The second, when I was in college, was briefly scary and then a great story. (Short version: I was in church, and the chandelier over the altar swung, casting wild shadows, and the old ladies screamed to God, and we all ran outside.) There’s almost something comforting about living on a planet that’s alive–although we do worry about being around when The Big One hits.
Such majestic mountains certainly must inspire awe and respect. It’s strange to note that a volcano is the snowiest place on earth, thank you for sharing!
You’re exactly right. They inspire Awe and respect. Like many of these statistics, it depends on how you measure. Mt. Baker is supposed to be the snowiest place on earth if you measure inches of snowfall in a single season. In 1988-99, it received 1141 inches of snow. Aomori, Japan is often called the snowiest place on earth even though it only gets an average of 312 inches a year. I guess it doesn’t melt much in the summer.
I live near the same volcanos as you. I’ll never forget when Mt. St. Helens blew (lived in Portland then). We lost a dear friend, photographer Bob Landsberg) in the eruption. His body was discovered sheltering the camera he was using to photograph the beautiful mountain. The camera was recovered and the film, progressively fire eaten, was published.
Coincidently, I’m just about to publish my blog: it’s about Kilauea Volano on the Big Island.
What a coincidence! I’m looking forward to your next blog post about Kilauea Volcano. I thought about volcanoes last week when I heard about the current eruption of Mayon Volcano, a graceful, perfectly-shaped volcano in the Philippines. It’s close enough to Manila for an occasional trip. Another recently active volcano I’ve visited is Mt. Etna. The Rick Steves tour of Sicily took it part-way up its sides.
I’m sorry about your friend, Bob Landsberg. What a tragedy!
It’s like you got the best of both worlds–like near volcanoes, but distance when they erupted! Rainier is gorgeous, indeed. My husband grew up on an island, so he always likes to be near water. I grew up with green hills and mountains–flat landscapes just don’t seem right to me.
I totally agree with you. I can’t imagine living without mts. and hills. FL, for example, is shockingly flat. A person needs to have something to look at. On a clear day here, you don’t need Google maps. Baker is north; Rainier is south; the Cascades are east; and the Olympics are west. And, of course, the Pacific Ocean is west. I also agree with your husband. It’s good to be near water, esp. the Pacific Ocean. (I’m feeling very spoiled right now.)
I visited the volcanoes in Hawaii. Truly awesome works of nature.
From the photos I’ve seen, Hawaii’s volcanoes are the best.
Not that long ago, I visited the Greek island of Santorini, one that according to mythology was created from a volcanic eruption, according to geologists. The caldera is under the sea; a beautiful island with evidence of a sophisticated society way back then. Then there are stories about the Atlantis, a fictional island mentioned in Plato. Stories and evidence about volcanoes come to us through the ages, mother earth mighty reminder about how many secrets she holds.
Having lived in the geologically active country of Vanuatu, I can believe all those stories of islands appearing and disappearing. Myths are fun, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have some basis in fact.
Interesting post. Having lived my entire life in the Great Lakes region, I never think about volcanoes. Never even seen one in my travels. Here in MI it’s water we are never far from and love as much as you love your volcanoes.
I just looked at a map. OMG! MI is surrounded by four huge lakes–all but one of the Great Lakes.
Nicki,
Thanks for this rememberance of Taal in 1977. We arrived in Manila in 1976. When Taal erupted in 1977, it was morning and Jay was 4. He was jumping on the bed and thought that he had caused the house to shake!
Sue
That’s so funny, Sue. I don’t remember feeling it.
We first learned the details of Taal Volcano from Eugene’s friend, John, a geologist that ADB hired as a consultant. John was very impressed with Taal’s history and with how huge it is under the surface.
Oh my word, Nicki!!! 😲 To think that you have always lived near a volcano is mindblowing! 🤯 My parents visited Mt. Rainier many years ago, so I’ve only seen pictures of it. Thank you for posting these photos.
It’s something I’d never thought about, Linda, until I decided to write this post. Especially Mt. Baker and Mt. Rainier are just beautiful mountains to most of us. But I do remember wondering why people would live so close to a potentially dangerous volcano. A few years ago lots of people had to leave their villages when a volcano in Indonesia erupted. And I also remember pictures of villagers having to run when a Mexican volcano erupted. When Mt. St. Helen blew, 57 people were killed. There was one stubborn old man who refused to leave, a vulcanologist who was studying it and who warned the nearby city of Vancouver, and a photojournalist who contributed to National Geographic and The Columbian among others. The photographer ran to his car, but he was too late.