Tag Archive | Mount Vernon Washington

The Great Seattle Snowstorm of 1916: Remembering the Snowpocalypse

No Snow Event has come close in the past 100-plus years

February 5

A Tuesday Newsday Classic Updated

It really should not come as a surprise when snow arrives in the Puget Sound region the first week of February. It could be worse, however, if one looks back in time. The year was 1916 and on February 5th of that year, the Puget Sound region was still reeling from a heavy snowfall which began late on January 31^st. It was a 24 hour period from February 1st to 2nd, however, which produced a whopping 21 and half inches of the white stuff. That record snowfall still stands.

Union Street in Seattle as viewed from 9th Avenue, February 1916. Photo from University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections (link below)

The Infallible Wikipedia gives us but a brief glimpse of that event:

“From January 31 to February 2, 1916, another heavy snow event occurred with 29 in (74 cm) of snow on the ground by the time the event was over.”

However, it does link to a more comprehensive article from HistoryLink.org which, I’ve found over the years, provides excellent coverage of Seattle history minutiae. From the article:

“When the big snow of 1916 began to fall on a cold Monday on January 31, 1916, there may have been more cameras than shovels in the hands of amateurs. The flurry of snapshots of our second greatest snowstorm illustrate snow-stopped streetcars, closed schools, closed libraries, closed theaters, closed bridges, a clogged waterfront, collapsed roofs, and — most sensationally — the great dome of St. James Cathedral, which landed in a heap in the nave and choir of the sanctuary. (There were no injuries to persons.)

The unusually cold January already had 23 inches of snow on the ground when, on the last day of the month, it began to fall relentlessly. Between 5 p.m. on Tuesday, February 1 and 5 p.m. on Wednesday, February 2, 21.5 inches accumulated in the Central Business District at the Weather Bureau in the Hoge Building. This remains (in 2002) a record — our largest 24-hour pile.

James street as viewed down 9th Avenue. Smith Tower – then the tallest building in Seattle – is on the left. February 1916. Photo from the University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections (link below)

The 1916 snow was a wet snow, and it came to a foul end — a mayhem of mud that mutilated bridges and carried away homes.”

In the category of how quickly we forget, it was in 2017 that the record for snowfall on any February 5th was set when two inches was recorded at Sea-Tac airport. An additional 5.1 inches fell on February 6th for a total of 7.1 inches on these two dates. Then in 2019 and again in 2021, the Puget Sound was hit with two fairly large snow events in February.

What I wrote on the morning of February 4, 2019: “Since the hubby and I moved north from the greater Seattle area in 2018, I cannot accurately compare the amount of snow from our old house to the one here in Mount Vernon. As of this morning we have between 3 and 4 inches and it is still snowing. The view from my office window – with a little wind in play – gives the appearance of being in a powdery snow globe.”

I cannot complain about Puget Sound snow, however. This region has some of the mildest weather in the world and I think of the white stuff as a wondrous treat to be enjoyed. Ensconced in my warm house with a morning cup of coffee – or later in the day with a mug of hot buttered rum – the beautiful coat of white is a magical event.

Too soon the temperatures will rise, the snow will melt, and we will be back to the brown and green scenery which characterizes a Puget Sound winter. One thing I do know is that within a few short weeks, the plum and cherry tree blossoms will erupt in shades of violet and pink and carpets of purple, yellow and white crocus will spread across the landscape. All we will recall from winter will be a few short days in February when the landscape was transformed into a winter wonderland.

On February 4, 2019, this was the view out my office window. Four days later the Puget Sound region was slammed with over 6 inches more.

Interesting perspective on the February 5/6 2017 event:

http://www.seattleweatherblog.com/snow/biggest-february-snowstorm-generation-wallops-seattle/

An article which highlights the biggest Puget Sound snowstorms:

http://www.historylink.org/File/3681

Some great historic photos of the February 1916 snowstorm:

http://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:/80444/xv07321

*The February 8, 2019 snow event which gave us about six inches.*

*The February 13, 2021 Snowstorm which dumped just over a foot of snow in Mount Vernon*.

Mass Ascension…

Jan15

… Mount Vernon Style

January 15, 2019

Although this particular population group is less than one percent of the species, the spectacle they create each winter in the Skagit Valley is breathtaking.

The geese depart in mass ascension, wings flapping and outstretched.

The Snow Goose, scientific name Anser caerulescens, is a bird which breeds in the Arctic during summer but migrates south each winter. In the state of Washington flocks of the birds can be found in Snohomish, Island, Skagit, and Whatcom counties as well as on the Oregon border in Clark County.

I went scrambling to find out more information about the Snow Goose after witnessing them last week near Mount Vernon. First the facts about the birds from the Infallible Wikipedia:

“The snow goose has two color plumage morphs, white (snow) or gray/blue (blue), thus the common description as ‘snows’ and ‘blues’. White-morph birds are white except for black wing tips, but blue-morph geese have bluish-grey plumage replacing the white except on the head, neck and tail tip. The immature blue phase is drab or slate-gray with little to no white on the head, neck, or belly. Both snow and blue phases have rose-red feet and legs, and pink bills with black tomia (‘cutting edges’), giving them a black ‘grin patch’. The colors are not as bright on the feet, legs, and bill of immature birds. The head can be stained rusty-brown from minerals in the soil where they feed. They are very vocal and can often be heard from more than a mile away.”

The Infallible Wikipedia also informed me that there are approximately 5 MILLION birds of breeding age which migrate from the Arctic to some 15 distinct areas of the United States each winter.

In the Skagit Valley, according to the Audubon Society, there are upwards of 55,000 snow geese which spend the winter feeding on the decaying plants and roots left in the fertile fields. Additionally, approximately 8,000 Trumpeter and 2,000 Tundra Swans are also found near Mount Vernon.

The hubby and I ventured out last Thursday to see if we could find one of the flocks of the snow geese. In less than 10 miles from our home, we encountered a large group gathered just west of I-5 near Conway. First, a word of caution, DO NOT under any circumstance stop along the Interstate to view the birds, as tempting as it may be. We were along a secondary road but saw a Washington State Patrolman stop to give a freeway bird gawker a bit of friendly advice.

We parked our car but even before we opened one of the doors we heard them: squawking and honking in their unique language. The noise overwhelms and defines the experience. I had no idea how mesmerizing it would be to watch the birds. From a distance, the geese seemed stationary. As we observed from up close, however, the flock seemed to be marching north, as they pecked at bits of leftover plant materials in the fallow ground. Then, as if by command, they turned and marched south, the strong wind ruffling their feathers and making it difficult to walk.

When, a short distance to the west, a train rumbled by and it’s loud horn sounded, the collective was disturbed and suddenly hundreds of birds fluttered into the air, ascending in a group and spiraling up and off to the west. It was, my hubby claimed as he compared it to the famous Albuquerque Balloon Festival, “Mass Ascension, Mount Vernon style.” The first group was followed by another which was followed by third and yet a fourth after that. Soon, only a small portion of the birds remained. And still we watched.

“Look, over there,” my hubby said some ten minutes later and pointed to the southwest.

Sure enough a dark blotch in the sky grew bigger and then we could make out hundreds of individuals all headed our way. Their arrival was quieter than their departure. Each bird, as it landed among the others, seemed like a graceful ballerina, wings spread to form an umbrella on either side, feet and legs outstretched, as each animal floated to earth.

Like airborne ballerinas they stretch their wings wide to land.

The geese descended in flocks numbering in the hundreds. Wave after wave of the snow geese landed among the group already on the ground with each bird somehow finding a bare plot which they could occupy only to resume their marching up and down the fields.

It was with great reluctance that we departed that afternoon. But the experience only whetted my appetite for more. I have my sights set on next visiting the main area where the Tundra and Trumpeter swans gather at a spot called DeBay Slough just to the northeast of Mount Vernon. After that it may be in search of Eagles whose presence is felt among the geese as the former cull the flocks of the sick and weak. Up the North Cascades Highway (SR 20) at Rockport is the Bald Eagle Interpretive Center, open on weekends for people to learn and to view.

After the Snow Goose encounter I came away with one very clear thought. I now live in a magical place. From the tulip fields in the spring, to the ever changing and interesting Skagit River, to the thousands of birds in the winter, there is no shortage of things to see and do here in Mount Vernon.

I was unable to get my own video’s uploaded but found this one on the internet and, as far as I can tell, this is the same spot where we watched the birds last Thursday.

A bunch of links for those who want to visit and see the birds:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow_goose

http://www.mountvernonchamber.com/visitor-news/bird-watchers-paradise-peak-season-right-now-for-eagles-snow-geese-swans-in-mount-vernon/

https://wdfw.wa.gov/lands/wildlife_areas/skagit/

http://www.seattleaudubon.org/Birdweb/bird/tundra_swan?tab=3

Viewing Sites

Update January 17, 2023 – The snow geese continue to capture my imagination. Shortly after they started arriving this past November myself, along with a couple of friends, ventured out past Conway on Maupin Road and came across a huge flock. The best part was that they were so close that you felt as if you could touch them. At one point, however, we experienced the ‘down’ side of geese watching… when a huge flying formation approached from the north and flew south over the top of the car. The next thing we knew we were under attack as they strafed my car with their bombs! It took some dedication later to clean off the residue of their bombs.

Glacier Peak: The Volcano That Get’s No Respect

Jun12

June 12th

A Tuesday Newsday Classic from 2018

One night – a month ago in early May – the news that Kilauea volcano in Hawaii had erupted dominated the news. Reports on the lava flows and subsequent explosive discharges provided our TV stations in Western Washington an opportunity to remind all of us that there are five active volcanoes in our state.

“Five?” I exclaimed to my hubby as we sat in the living room of our new Mount Vernon, Washington, condo. “I dispute that there are five ACTIVE volcanoes here!”

Of course such a claim sent me straight to the internet.

I knew of the two obvious active ones: Mt. St. Helen’s and Mt. Baker as both had activity in the past 40 years. And you can hardly read anything about Mt. Rainier without being reminded that although it is dormant it’s not dead and ‘could’ erupt this week or not for a thousand years.

Which left ‘two’ unaccounted for volcanos. The first one was easy: Mt. Adams. I grew up seeing Mt. Adams on most days walking to school in Yakima. But it has always been my understanding that it is not in any danger of eruption as it truly is a long dormant mountain.

So what was the last volcano? In addition to Washington’s four mountains, there were Mt. Hood in Oregon as well as the Three Sisters and then two in California, Shasta and Lassen Peak.

I was, frankly, a veritable volcano snob, having not only lived through the eruption of Mt. St. Helen’s but also growing up with the volcanic mountains so much a part of the experience. I know my mountains! But the gauntlet had been thrown down and I set out to disprove the report. There was not, I was certain, a ‘fifth’ Washington state volcano.

Imagine my dismay when, according to the infallible Wikipedia (as well as the US Geologic Survey), the benign sounding Glacier Peak turned out to be the missing volcano.

Glacier Peak!? I’d heard of it but the name alone reinforces visions of cold and ice. A volcano? It’s a volcano?

*From my view out of a plane, looking north, in November 2025. On the left is Mt. Baker and on the right, with the bump is Glacier Peak.*

Indeed it is. At 10,541 feet it is the fourth tallest peak in the state and is located a scant 50 miles southeast from where I now live and only 70 miles northeast of Seattle.

And, like Volcan de Fuego in Guatamala and our other four peaks, it is a stratovolcano, the kind of volcano which can erupt violently.

From the Infallible Wikipedia:

“Of the five major volcanoes in Washington, only Glacier Peak and Mount St. Helens have had large eruptions in the past 15,000 years. Since both volcanoes generate magma of dacitic origin, the viscous magma builds up since it cannot flow through the eruptive vent. Gradually, the pressure grows, culminating in an explosion that ejects materials such as tephra, which in its simplest form, is ash.

Tephrochronology and radiocarbon dating indicate that Glacier Peak eruptions occurred in 1700 AD ± 100 years, 1300 AD ± 300 years, 900 AD ± 50 years, 200 AD ± 50 years, 850 BC, 3150 BC, and in 3550 BC. The Volcanic Explosivity Index (VEI) for three of these was 2 to 4, small compared to the 5 of the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens. They were characterized mainly by a central vent eruption, followed by an explosive eruption. These eruptions varied in outcome; some produced lahars, some pyroclastic flows, and others lava domes.

A little more than 13,000 years ago, a sequence of nine tephra eruptions occurred within a period of less than a few hundred years. Associated with these eruptions were pyroclastic flows. Mixed with snow, ice and water, these formed lahars that raced into three nearby rivers, filling their valleys with deep deposits. Subsequently the mudflows drained into both the North Fork of the Stillaguamish River (at that time an outlet of the Sauk River) and Skagit Rivers. In Arlington, 60 miles downstream, lahars deposited seven feet of sediment. Subsequent erosion of lahar deposits near Darrington led to the current river system with the Stillaguamish River separated from the Sauk/Skagit Rivers. Lahar debris was deposited along both the Skagit and Stillaguamish Rivers all the way to Puget Sound. A small portion of the erupted tephra was deposited locally. However, most of the tephra reached higher levels of the atmosphere, and was transported by the wind hundreds of miles. Deposits from this congregation were as thick as 1 foot near Chelan and 0.3 inches near Missoula, Montana.

Since these events, Glacier Peak has produced several lahars. The largest events were 5,900 and 1,800 years ago and were associated with dome-building eruptions. In both cases, the lahars traveled down the Skagit River to Puget Sound.”

It was actually this last sentence which most caught my attention… I repeat:

In both cases, the lahars traveled down the Skagit River to Puget Sound.

Let’s see… where does the Skagit River flow before arriving at Puget Sound? Oh yes, I know, Mount Vernon.

Armed with this revelation about Washington’s mostly unknown volcano, my hubby will attest to the fact that I’ve become obsessed. In my weekly or more drives up and down Interstate 5 I have found myself, on clear days, scanning the mountains to the east. Which one is Glacier Peak? And, more importantly, how is it I never knew which one it was and that it’s a volcano?

I’ve come to believe that Glacier Peak is like the Rodney Dangerfield of volcanoes. It just doesn’t get any respect. There are no roads which will take you to its base. There’s no park, no visitor centers, no campgrounds. And every single day hundreds of thousands of people drive within less than a hundred miles of it, oblivious to its existence.

As an experiment I’ve started asking people two questions: first if they had ever heard of Glacier Peak and, second, that it’s a volcano. Consistently, the answer is no.

I’m now on a one-woman crusade to help Glacier Peak get that respect. It’s the least I can do for the volcano in my backyard.

As always, links to a couple of Infallible Wikipedia articles, USGS, and – for those of you under the age of 50 – Rodney Dangerfield. Gotta have those cultural references.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glacier_Peak

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glacier_Peak_Wilderness

https://volcanoes.usgs.gov/volcanoes/glacier_peak

https://youtu.be/Z_OuflwjeiY (Rodney Dangerfield YouTube clip)