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On May 18, 1980, after a long period of rest, this quiet mountain in Washington provided detailed observations on the mechanics of highly explosive eruptions.
This field seismometer measures earthquakes associated with subsurface volcanic forces and may help to predict future events. It sits on a plateau known as the "Volcanic Tableland" formed by a major eruption 600,000 years ago.
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This seismometer measures earthquakes associated with subsurface volcanic forces.
The earth growls deeply. Plumes of acrid steam, reeking with the foul stench of sulfur, belch from narrow fissures in the rock. Suddenly, the mountain peak explodes with the force of a thousand atomic bombs. After the deafening blast, scalding ash consumes a sunlit sky. Falling back to earth, the powder billows across the landscape, incinerating all forms of life within a 50 mile radius. In the wake of this violent cataclysm, a barren moonscape of dust and rock blankets the primal scene, creating what would be known---33 million years later---as the Chinati Mountains of West Texas.
This volcanic site, like all the igneous vents found scattered across the Trans-Pecos region, and two exposed sites in the Texas Hill Country became extinct long ago. Yet many travelers to these areas don't realize that the stunning mountain vistas once spewed from the earth's fiery interior.
These forces orchestrated ancient volcanic eruptions in Texas across the broad span of two different ages. The first, between 90 and 70 million years ago, can be seen at two Central Texas sites that lie along the Balcones Fault line. The second set of volcanic ranges, active between 48 and 17 million years ago, arise in the spectacular vistas of the Big Bend, the Davis Mountains, and the Chinati Mountains--all in the Trans-Pecos area of West Texas. Will these ancient Texas volcanoes erupt anytime in the future? In the next 10 years the risk is virtually zero. But 100 million years from now? Maybe.
For millennia, the fabled deities of volcanic destruction have slept beneath Texas' weathered landscapes. Perhaps, millions of years from now, they will reawaken. Vulcan, his anger kindled once again, could wreak havoc in a thundering holocaust of ash and lava. Hephaestus, stirred with a flash of creative passion, might fan his forge and send forth a river of flaming rock. Though visible life could vanish like a vapor, seedlings might one day seek the sun, sprouting anew upon virgin soils spilled from a Lone Star volcano.