Been there, done that

Scenic Overlook, Mount St. Helens, WA
We camp about ten miles from the cramping and active volcano, close enough to see into its white maw. She puffs white steam, constantly changing shapes, and we play ‘see the image in the clouds of the volcano’. Small earthquakes that we can’t even feel, a growing lava cone, and we see flying squirrels and running greyhounds in her hot white breath.

At sunset we’re drinking coffee, holding hands, dressed in every woolen layer we’ve accumulated since warm Nevada. The mountain turns pink as a freshly spanked ass-cheek and we take pictures to prove it.