GOING ASHORE? EXCURSIONS EMPHASIZE REGION'S HISTORY.

Byline: Eric Noland Travel Editor

TOUTLE, Wash. - In the documentary film, the rescue workers are clearly perplexed as they fly over the area. Although they're keenly familiar with the valley formed by the north fork of the Toutle River, they can't make out a single landmark.

One of them, a map spread across his knees, says in exasperation, ``Is that Spirit Lake down there?''

No, Spirit Lake, for the moment, was gone. Entire forests had been flattened. The narrow valley gorge was being filled in, first with ash, then magma, then mud from glaciers that had been blow-torched.

Mount St. Helens, with a stupendous eruption on May 18, 1980, had literally turned the land inside out. With a blast that projected laterally rather than vertically, the mountain literally blew its top, instantly reducing its elevation from 9,766 feet to 8,365 feet, and wreaking unimaginable devastation in its path.

A visit to Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, about a two-hour drive north of Portland, Ore., is one of the shore excursions on a Columbia Queen riverboat cruise of the Pacific Northwest - and easily the most fascinating.

The trip is conducted before you ever get on the boat. As the cruise line dumps off one load of passengers early Saturday morning and begins cleaning and restocking the craft, the next group of passengers is spirited off to the volcano.

After a stop at the visitor center, where the film is screened, the tour buses climb through a river valley that is exhibiting remarkable resiliency, again home to alder trees, Douglas fir, salmon, rainbow trout and elk. Finally, at the Johnston Ridge Observatory, visitors might luck into a peek at the gouged out summit of the mountain.

We weren't so lucky. The weather up here is as mercurial as the mountain was two decades ago. The summit was obscured in dense clouds. And it was snowing out.

It's a moving experience to stand on the ridge and gaze toward the mountain, knowing what occurred here that day. A scientist with the U.S. Geological Survey, David A. Johnston, had moved his camp to this ridge - five miles from the mountain - because he thought it would be a safer observation point. But with the lateral explosion, which was directed dead north, he lay directly in its path. Rangers estimate the blast and the wall of pine trees it carried on its leading edge was traveling at the speed of sound when it engulfed him and killed him 40 seconds later.

Johnston had time only to shout into his radio to colleagues in a Washington community to the south: ``Vancouver, Vancouver, this is it!''

A visit to the area as part of a cruise tour points up the advantages and drawbacks of traveling as part of such a group. Yes, you see a lot of sights over the course of a week, but you can never achieve an in-depth exploration at any one place.

Thus, those who are interested in delving more deeply into the charms of Mount St. Helens, Mount Hood, Hells Canyon or Fort Clatsop might do better to plan an independent trip to the Pacific Northwest.

At Mount St. Helens, for example, rangers lead walks every afternoon, usually covering about 2 1/2 miles and lasting a couple of hours. But we did not have nearly enough time allotted for such an indulgence.

Similarly, I was disappointed the next day when our visit to Fort Clatsop, a replica that stands on the site where Lewis and Clark rode out the winter of 1805-06, warranted an allotment of only 50 minutes.

Though this only left time for a cursory tour, it was nonetheless fascinating to look into the dark, low-ceilinged rooms much like those in which the Corps of Discovery huddled during a winter of relentless rains (the current fort was built to specifications noted in the journals).

At the fort, some rangers dress in period costume and demonstrate various tasks from the era. On our visit, Matt Hensley, an ebullient summer ranger who teaches eighth-grade history in his day job, delivered a fascinating talk on the firing pieces used by the explorers. He related a hilarious tale about the expedition's harrowing encounter with a grizzly bear in the Rocky Mountains and culminated his demonstration by firing a noisy, black-powder musket into the woods.

The Columbia River cruise has proven extremely popular with senior travelers, and the shore-excursion itinerary is carefully tailored to them. There is no hiking, no climbing into rubber boats, in fact no strenuous activity of any kind. The emphasis is solidly on history and culture - with visits to no fewer than 10 museums, visitor centers or interpretive centers.

Additionally, separate excursions can be scheduled - fishing, golf, etc. One such activity, newly offered this year, involves paddling a 43-foot replica canoe to a site where the Lewis and Clark expedition camped on its way out of the Pacific Northwest ($90 per person). Lunch is barbecued buffalo meat, and an American Indian guide is along to tell stories about that time.

However, in order to schedule it, the cruise line needs 12 passengers to sign up, and it might be a bit ambitious an undertaking for the cruise's elderly passenger profile. The day before the trip was to go, I was informed by the purser that I was the only one who had signed up for it. Trip canceled.

Most of the passengers seemed particularly enthusiastic about the jet boat ride we took through a portion of Hells Canyon on the Snake River. The ride through some small rapids at times caused water to cascade onto the boat's windshield, but the boats are enormous, and the ride remarkably smooth. Highlights of the trip included the sighting of eight bighorn sheep near the river's edge and a stop at some Nez Perce petroglyphs that were scraped into rock before Christ was born.

Other notable shore stops:

The Maryhill Museum of Art stands on a remote bluff on the Columbia Plateau - an entirely incongruous setting for Rodin sculptures and Russian icons. It's a long story: Wealthy road-builder constructs mansion, suffers financial collapse, allows friend to turn it into art museum; sugar heiress Alma Spreckels gets involved. So visitors can marvel (and maybe puzzle) over a collection that includes 800 Indian baskets, miniature Parisian mannequins, a dramatic Charles Russell painting of a buffalo hunt, and Russian coronation jewels. Whew.

At the Whitman Mission, you can see Oregon Trail ruts that endure to this day, and ponder the 1836 massacre of missionary Marcus Whitman, his wife and 11 others because the resident Cayuse Indians blamed them for a measles epidemic that wiped out half the tribe.

A trip to Pendleton, Ore., includes a stop at its famous woolen mills, as well as a labyrinth of cellars once used by Chinese laborers to avoid the troublemakers who frequented the saloons above ground.

The Timberline Lodge on the slopes of Mount Hood is a tribute to some folks who had altogether too much time on their hands. It was a make-work project of the Depression, and is quite a wonder - enormous bracing timbers, roughly milled; banister posts elaborately carved in the shape of the critters of the region; arched stone walkways; a fireplace that a 6-foot-tall person can walk into without ducking; hand-hewn furniture.

For a lark, you can ride the Magic Mile Ski Lift up the mountain for some sightseeing ($4). It's kind of a bizarre sight to see skiers and snowboarders carving up the mountain the first week of June, but a permanent snowfield makes this recreation possible throughout the summer.

CAPTION(S):

5 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Summertime skiing on Oregon's Mount Hood is an offshore option, although one ranger likened the snow to ``sticky mashed potatoes.''

(2) Shore excursions from the Columbia Queen cruise include a trip to Fort Clatsop, Ore., above, where Lewis and Clark waited out the winter of 1805-06.z

(3 -- 5) Wagon ruts line the trail traveled by the two explorers, near Walla Walla, Wash. Mount Hood looms in the background as a visitor to the Maryhill Museum of Art, near Goldendale, Wash., checks out the view from the beaux arts mansion. At Fort Clatsop, below, ranger Matt Hensley concludes tales of the famous expedition with a musket blast into the woods.

Hugh A. Mulligan/Associated Press

Eric Noland/Travel Editor

Elaine Thompson/Associated Press