<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?>
<oai_dc:dc xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:oai_dc="http://www.openarchives.org/OAI/2.0/oai_dc/" xmlns:xsi="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema-instance" xsi:schemaLocation="http://www.openarchives.org/OAI/2.0/oai_dc/ http://www.openarchives.org/OAI/2.0/oai_dc.xsd">
  <dc:contributor>Peter Frenzen</dc:contributor>
  <dc:contributor>Carolyn L. Mastin</dc:contributor>
  <dc:contributor>Patricia Erfurt-Cooper</dc:contributor>
  <dc:creator>Chris Newhall</dc:creator>
  <dc:date>2014</dc:date>
  <dc:description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;May 18, 1980. Sunrise and a crystal-clear morning. Mount St. Helens was a beautiful, peaceful, snow-capped mountain surrounded by pristine forests and lakes(Fig.&amp;nbsp;15.1). Yes, it was known to be spitting ash and shaking, but it was still fundamentally the same Mount St. Helens that had for decades been a favorite camping and fishing destination of local residents. At 8:32 a.m. Mount St. Helens turned ugly, unleashing a mind-boggling landslide that left a huge crater where the peak had been and a thick jumble of rock with an average thickness of 150-feet (45.7&amp;nbsp;m) filling the lush valley that once led to much-beloved Spirit Lake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</dc:description>
  <dc:format>application/pdf</dc:format>
  <dc:identifier>10.1007/978-3-642-16191-9_15</dc:identifier>
  <dc:language>en</dc:language>
  <dc:publisher>Springer</dc:publisher>
  <dc:title>Mount St. Helens, Washington, USA</dc:title>
  <dc:type>chapter</dc:type>
</oai_dc:dc>