Saturday, May 2, 2015

Through the Columbia River Gorge

As we left Pasco the highway followed around the bend of the river and headed almost due west toward Portland.  Soon we were on a four lane highway that ran along the river as it cut its way through the mountain terrain known as the Columbia River Gorge.  Our previous driver was right about this route.  Judging from the traffic, many travelers had chosen this side of the River.  It was beautiful scenery and at some points the highway seemed to glide close to and at the same level as the river surface and at others times it rose high above on clefts looking down on the water.  After traveling approximately 50 miles we approached a scene of total confusion along the rivers edge.  Tractors and all sorts of heavy earth moving equipment could be seen every where.  Some were pushing dirt into the river to form the start of a dam.  Out in the river there were large cranes on anchored barges.  Scaffolding was every place and large pours of cement confronted the rushing water.  Dewey explained this was an Army Corps of Engineers project to construct a dam across the Columbia at this point. 
They had started the project in 1952 and were scheduled to finish in 1957. 
















                            The Dalls Dam After Completion

The small town close by, made up mostly of construction trailers and parked equipment and supplies was identified by a weathered sign as “The Dalles, Oregon”.  That was to be the name of the dam.                                                                               

I was fascinated that a structure could be built in the swift flowing river.  It would generate electricity when finished by routing part of the rivers flow through 22 large turbines that turned generators.  The lake formed behind the dam would extend 24 miles up the river channel.  This would create a large recreation and sports addition to the area.  It also caused a problem for Native Americans who fished at Celilo Falls and lived in a small village near by.  It was the economic and cultural hub of the people living in that region and was said to be the site of the oldest continuously inhabited
 settlement in North America.  The natives had built fishing platforms over the falls. When the salmon ran up the river to their spawning grounds many were netted as they leaped to fight their way upstream.  With the completion of the dam, water was backed up submerging the falls and the village of Celilo.  The new lake, named Lake Celilo, also destroyed the salmon spawning areas along the upper river. The United States Government mitigated these problems with the Native Americans by building a fish hatchery along the Oregon side of Lake Celilo.  This was to replace the spawning grounds that had been destroyed.  Young salmon grown in the hatchery were released into the river to travel to the ocean where they would grow to harvest size and then return to their spawning ground which was the fish hatchery.  This process was based on the characteristics of the fish to return at spawning time to the very spot where they were hatched.





                                                                                                                                                                                                                                










                                          Celilo Falls
One problem remaining was how the fish travel over the dam.  The top of the dam was too high above the water for fish to jump over, so fish ladders were built into the dam, They consist of a series of ponds starting at the river level below the dam and gradually rising up to the level of the lake behind the dam.  River water poured over the cement walls forming the ponds until it reached the river below the dam.  This created a path for the fish, similar to the rapids in the river that took them over the falls.  This construction looks like a watery set of steps all the way from the river below to the lake above.  I am still amazed that these fish have the drive and strength to make this journey.

It didn’t take long to drive the remaining distance to Portland.  Dewey’s home was in Washougal, Washington, across the Columbia River from Portland.  To cross the river we needed to go through Portland, and take a bridge to Vancouver, Washington.  Then we traveled back along the Washington side of the river to Washougal.  It was getting dusk and traffic was picking up with commuters going home from work.  Hitch hiking through Portland under these conditions didn’t seem like a good idea.  We decided to take a bus to Vancouver and Dewey thought he could then call home and have someone pick us up from the bus terminal and take us on to his home.  We asked our driver if he might let us off at the bus station.  It was on his way he said, so soon we stepped out into the fresh air of Portland in front of the bus station.  We thanked the driver and he sped away in his shinny black Buick.

There was a little wait for the next bus, so Dewey found a pay phone and called home.  He explained our plan and asked if they could pick us up when we arrived in Vancouver at the bus station.  The ride from Portland to Vancouver was uneventful.  A second phone call was made from the Vancouver bus terminal to let Dewey’s family know we were there. We were happy to be sitting in the bus station instead of standing along the road with our thumb out.  It was dark now and we knew we had made the right decision.

It was mass confusion when the car rolled in and Dewey’s siblings poured out to hug him, as they all talked at once.  Dewey introduced me and I got polite hugs.  We all managed to get in the car and headed upriver to Washougal and Dewey’s home.  Mrs. Vahsholtz had dinner ready, and no time was wasted before starting to dine.  The family was Lutherans and said grace at the main meal.  There was small talk at the table as every one tried to find out what college was like.  They asked me about Montana and basketball.  Dewey’s sister, Irene was teasing him about a girlfriend he had met while attending college in Vancouver.  The girlfriend had heard Dewey was going to be home and wanted to see him.  After dishes were done we moved into the living room for more conversation.

Dewey had a young brother, Arthur, who was physically handicapped and mentally challenged, but the family didn’t make notice of it and Arthur tried to keep up with everyone.  I thought this was a wise family way to handle this sort of situation.  I’m sure it improved Arthur’s coping skills and his self-image.  There was one other brother, Robert, who was older than Irene, but younger than Dewey.  There wasn’t a father present. Dewey never said anything about him.  The conversation returned to the girlfriend.  It sounded as though some commitment had been made on Dewey’s behalf to set a date with her.  Dewey agreed to take her to the drive in movie if a date could be arranged for me on such short notice.  I was assured there were several nice girls out there that would enjoy a date with me.

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.

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