6 Bonneville Dam

Just a few miles east of Multnomah Falls the historic highway brought us to Bonneville Dam, one of the first two dams to be built by the Army Corps of Engineers on the Columbia (the other being the Grand Coulee) in the 1930’s. Electrical power generated at Bonneville is distributed by the Bonneville Power Administration. Bonneville Lock and Dam is named for Army Capt. Benjamin Bonneville, an early explorer credited with charting much of the Oregon Trail.

The ghosty photo below shows the first power plant, the water above the dam on the left by the locks, and the river below the plant on the right.

There were actually five major components, the power plant (on the Oregon side) and locks area above, a second power plant built in the 1970’s (on the Washington side), a mile-long fish ladder (foreground below) and a spillway complex (background below) required to manage the water level of the river for transportation and provide enough water flow for salmon.

While I was aware of the (still on-going) controversy over dams and salmon migration, I didn’t know that the Bonneville Dam blocked the migration of white sturgeon to their upstream spawning areas. Sturgeon still spawn in the area below the dam and the lower Columbia River supports a healthy sturgeon population. Small, very depressed populations of white sturgeon persist in the various reservoirs upstream.

To cope with fish migration problems, the dam features fish ladders to help native salmon and steelhead get past the dam on their journey upstream to spawn. Initial assumptions of the dam designers were that the salmon wouldn’t have any issues moving up and down the river through the turbines. This of course turned out to be totally untrue; and the fish ladder was added as an after-mitigation. The large concentrations of fish swimming upstream serve as a tourist attraction during the spawning season. California Sea Lions are also attracted to the large number of fish, and are often seen around the base of the dam during the spawning season.

The Army Corps of Engineers runs a visitor center near the first power plant that, through a series of displays and films, walks you through the generating process.

This cross section gives the basics, showing how the river on the right is compressed and forced through the turbines which are attached by large axles to the generators that sit directly above them. The conflicting geometries (river flowing horizontally, turbines and generators mounted vertically) require a series of sculpted chambers that get all that water pressure to in effect make a sharp right-hand turn through the turbines.

And the scale of the components is impressive – illustrated here from some documentation of turbine removal and replacement. In the initial graphic the old turbine is removed and – much like the old photos of lumber jacks with giant trees – photographed with everyone sitting on the blades.

The new turbine is installed and connected to the generator – complete with arrows pointing which way the water is supposed to go (wonder if there’s any turbulence).

And of course, old turbines make easy public art – though I doubt there were any artists involved in the installation, given the indelicate legs added to hold it in place.

The other aspect of all this construction becomes apparent from an overall view of the river which now resembles more of a lake, a phenomena that, with the addition of many more dams, occurs for more of the Columbia than not.

Herewith some background information on the political and economic impacts of the construction – especially critical since it occurred during the depression.  Prior to the New Deal, development of the Columbia River with flood control, hydroelectricity, navigation and irrigation was deemed as important. In 1929, the US Army Corps of Engineers published the 308 Report that recommended 10 dams on the river but no action was taken until the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration and the New Deal. During this period America was in the Great Depression, and the dam’s construction provided jobs and other economic benefits to the Pacific Northwest. Inexpensive hydroelectricity gave rise to a strong aluminum industry in the area. With funding from the Public Works Administration in 1934, two of the larger projects were started, the Grand Coulee Dam and the Bonneville Dam. 3,000 workers in non-stop eight-hour shifts, from the relief or welfare rolls, were paid 50-cents an hour for the work on the dam and raising local roads for the reservoir. (credit: Wikipedia)

5 Columbia Gorge Waterfalls

From Vista House at Crown Point the historic Columbia River Highway flows down to river level and enters an area of multiple waterfalls.

A chain of creeks and springs that have not yet cut valleys through the bluff flow over it instead and drop to river level in a variety of scenic settings. These include Latourel, Shepperds Dell, Bridal Veil, Mist, Wahkeena, Multnomah, Oneonta, and Horsetail. We didn’t try to see every one nor hike the trails to the bluff above; but we saw a number. Here’s an overview, starting with Latourelle.

As is obvious, the falls seem to appear out of nowhere and, from the road at least, then disappear again. Since the intention of the highway was to draw people to the gorge, it winds in and out near the river to optimize the views.

We don’t see the many roadhouses that were built to offer meals and comfort to sightseers. The road was completed in 1915 and it was only a few years later that getting out into nature in your car had totally captivated the citizens of Portland. Eventually, in 1986 the area was declared a National Scenic Area administered by a multi-government coalition. Since then some Forest Service facilities have become B+B’s, like this one we saw near Bridal Veil falls.

Portions of Bridal Veil can be seen from below the highway, reached by a trail and footbridge across the creek.

And the falls itself seems almost domestic in scale.

The water nourishes robust tree growth. This maple presented a platter of leaves that normally would be hard to see; but from the trail they were impossible to miss.

At each stopping point there were fairly informative panels about the site and its history. This one suddenly made me aware that this modest and delicate creek valley had had a previous life as a robust extraction site.

You can make out the scale of logging that went on here, including a flume with water that, in this case, floated logs a vertical drop of 1800′ down to the Columbia. In another instance we read of a flume that needed to be nine miles long in order to make it from the top of the valley to the river. None of that is apparent today – but then neither are the giant trees that were taken down.

I liked the way that the historic highway recognized the automobile but didn’t generally give it any more space than it really needs.

And although we weren’t doing any serious hiking, each site gave a good sense of what trails were available, including their level of difficulty.

Bridal Veil’s lower sections were good for getting up close; and we saw a number of photographers trying to capture the moodiness of the settings.

Finally we arrived at Multnomah, the largest of the falls and clearly the most visited. The parking area is large because in addition to the waterfall there’s a substantial restaurant, information center and gift shop here. It’s clear that lots of people come for the sights and stay for lunch.

The setting is robust in one other sense – the railroad passes right by the parking lot

In this case the railroad lies between the historic highway and I-84. As the three wind their way along the Columbia they frequently change places to accommodate the assertive geology. Makes for an interesting drive.

Clearly, the layout of the space has been pretty single-minded.

No sneaking up on the view here.

We did hike up to the Benson Bridge (above) but in many ways I thought the drama of the setting was greater from the lower level where the two falls are juxtaposed.

On the bridge itself the falls seem less important, and the immensity of the rock forms comes more into play – and, as can be seen below, there’s still lots of geologic movement caused by the freeze-thaw that goes on adjacent to the falls.

As a side note – lots of photographers were working on ‘capturing’ the falls, or at least their version of it; so I was not alone (though I didn’t have a selfie-stick). I was shooting with a hand-held Canon; but the serious types were using tripods.

Out of curiosity I checked out what this photographer was checking out.

Interesting to see that the greenery was as important as the water.

Next post we visit another type of waterfall.

4 The King of Roads

I had driven parts of the historic Columbia River Highway but not some of the more dramatic parts; so we determined that our tour of the Oregon side of the Gorge would follow that highway as much as possible.

The following National Park Service overview gives the basic history.

The Columbia River Highway, later renamed the Historic Columbia River Highway (HRCH), was a technical and civic achievement of its time, successfully marrying ambitious engineering with sensitive treatment of the surrounding magnificent landscape. The Historic Columbia River Highway has gained national significance because it represents one of the earlier applications of cliff-face road building utilizing modern highway construction technologies. It is also the oldest scenic highway in the United States. The Historic Columbia River Highway’s design and execution were the products of two visionaries, Samuel Hill, lawyer, entrepreneur, and good road’s promoter; and Samuel C. Lancaster, engineer and landscape architect. 

Samuel Hill, once an attorney for James J. Hill and his large railroad empire, and later a Pacific Northwest investor and entrepreneur, was Washington state’s most vocal “good roads” spokesman in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He built Maryhill, a grandiose estate on a bluff overlooking the Columbia (that we visited later in this trip), and determined that people in the region should enjoy the spectacular vistas of the Gorge from aesthetically designed roads. His initial plan to construct the road on the north side of the river was rebuffed and/or ignored by Washington legislators. By contrast, Hill found Oregon lawmakers and Portland businessmen receptive to the idea of constructing a major highway along the south side Columbia River. In 1913, work began on the Historic Columbia River Highway. Surfaced with Warrenite, a patented long-wearing and smooth-riding asphaltic-concrete pavement, the Historic Columbia River Highway was completed in 1922.

Multnomah County hired Samuel C. Lancaster, an experienced engineer and landscape architect, to design the Historic Columbia River Highway. Lancaster was noted for laying out Seattle’s Lake Washington Boulevard in the early 1900s as a component of the city’s Olmsted-designed park system. He accompanied Hill and others to Paris in 1908 to attend the First International Road Congress. The group also toured Western Europe to learn about continental road-building techniques. Following the 1908 Congress Lancaster constructed experimental roads at Hill’s Maryhill Ranch, 120 miles east of Portland on the Columbia River. This Wikipedia view shows the 5% grade road on the right, working its way up through the landscape, contrasted to more contemporary route 97 on the left. Scenic driving vs speedy scenic glimpsing.

Lancaster’s Highway design emulated European style road building techniques, while also advancing American engineering standards. Throughout the Historic Columbia River Highway, he and other engineers held fast to a design protocol that included accepting grades no greater than 5 percent, nor laying out any curves with less than a 100-foot turning radius. On the Maryhill road this produced some eye-catching curves – now used for local races and tours.

The use of reinforced-concrete bridges, combined with masonry guard rails, guard walls, and retaining walls brought together the new and the old-the most advanced highway structures with the tried and tested. In building the Columbia River Highway, Lancaster and others artfully created an engineering achievement sympathetic to this significant natural landscape.

The relationship between the Columbia River Gorge’s natural landscape and the constructed designed landscape of the Historic Columbia River Highway is told best by Lancaster (Wikipedia). He wrote, “There is but one Columbia River Gorge [that] God put into this comparatively short space, [with] so many beautiful waterfalls, canyons, cliffs and mountain domes.” He believed that “men from all climes will wonder at its wild grandure [sic] when once it is made accessable [sic] by this great highway.”

This translated into an over-riding aesthetic for the design:  The ideals sought were not the usual economic features and considerations given the location of a trunk highway. Grades, curvature, distance and even expense were sacrificed to reach some scenic vista or to develop a particularly interesting point. All the natural beauty spots were fixed as control points and the location adjusted to include them. Although the highway would have a commercial value in connecting the Coast country with the eastern areas, no consideration was given the commercial over scenic requirements. The one prevailing idea in the location and construction was to make this highway a great scenic boulevard surpassing all other highways of the world.

Several benefactors purchased waterfalls (It had never occurred to me to ‘buy’ a waterfall) and other sites lining the Gorge for parks along the Columbia River Highway. Lancaster’s Highway included designed landscapes at these locations.

The masonry guard walls, retaining walls, and bridges on the pedestrian trails closely resemble those seen along the Historic Columbia River Highway itself. Lancaster strove for fluidity of design in interconnecting the Historic Columbia River Highway with its surrounding natural landscape.

The Columbia River Highway was also a lifeline connecting Portland with the many commercial and agricultural areas along the Columbia River. Some promoters saw it as part of a network of similarly constructed routes radiating out towards central Oregon and Washington and the Inland Empire of eastern Washington and northern Idaho, and meeting routes leading to other parts of the region and the nation.

More popular than its promoters ever envisioned, by the 1930s the Columbia River Highway was showing signs of early aging. The widespread use of automobiles and freight trucks throughout the country caused measurable wear the Highway. Soon the route so marveled for its advanced engineering, was deteriorating both physically and philosophically. Motorists tended to speed through beauty spots, more interested in traveling from here to there in as short a time as possible. With such an increase in motor traffic, it was no longer practical for tourists to stop their vehicles in the middle of the road to look at a falls or take in a view of the Columbia Gorge.

The Oregon State Highway Department began abandoning segments of the Columbia River Highway in the late 1930s upon completion of the new water-level route from Bonneville Dam to Cascade Locks. This work also segmented the original alignment, making it unusable even as a pedestrian trail. By the 1950s, much of the original alignment from Cascade Locks to Hood River had been sacrificed for the new water-level route. The Historic Columbia River Highway from Hood River to Mosier, including the Mosier Twin Tunnels, was also abandoned. 

By 1954, a new curvilinear water-level route, founded largely on fill material dredged from the Columbia River, bypassed the entire Historic Columbia River Highway from Troutdale to The Dalles. Its designers, too, envisioned this route as a scenic highway through the Gorge, though one equally focused on a speedy trip.

Since the early 1950s, the western third of the Historic Columbia River Highway has served tourist traffic, carrying visitors by scores of waterfalls. Other portions in the eastern two-thirds of the route became part of a local farm-to-market road network. Significant segments of the Historic Columbia River Highway were sacrificed for the new road while others were simply abandoned, especially after the construction of Interstate 84 was added next to the railroad tracks along the river’s edge.

By the 1980s, public interest grew for returning drivable portions of the Historic Columbia River Highway to their 1920s appearance–based on careful documentation–and rehabilitating abandoned segments for trail use. Since then, drivable portions of the Historic Columbia River Highway, its masonry structures, bridges, and culverts have been repaired or replaced. The road is a popular tourist destination along with Multnomah Falls, the most popular natural site in Oregon, drawing over two-million visitors annually. The Falls are accessible both from the highway and nearby Interstate 84.

But our tour started at the west end and worked its way to the falls, so we’ll begin at the spectacular beginning. From Troutdale, Route 30 winds up the Sandy River Valley and then climbs to the top of the bluff that defines the edge of the Gorge. Shortly thereafter it arrives at Chanticleer Point, a viewpoint developed to show off the scope of the Gorge.

It also honors The Portland Women’s Forum, a group of women who took on and shepherded the preservation of the Gorge, a politically challenging task in the face of the many proposals for economic development in both Oregon and Washington.

  

The view from this outlook says it all

The small white dot on the bluff in the center is Vista House, purposefully located during the design of the highway to give a grand beginning to the tour of the gorge. The map below shows the scope of our day, starting at McMenamins, taking in the Vista House view, stopping at a series of waterfalls and the Bonneville Power Plant, and ending up in Hood River for the night.

To celebrate both the gorge and the new scenic highway, Lancaster identified a striking promontory, Crown Point, as the location for a dramatic overlook, comfort station, and source of information about the area.

The bluff juts precipitously out into the Gorge, so you can imagine the engineering it took to reach the spot with gentle 5% grades and easy curves. Even just before arriving at the site it seems nearly inaccessible.

In the view below, though, you can see one solution to the geometrical challenges – the base of the building and the road construction were combined so that lower levels of the building and parts of the spiraling road structure supported each other.

From an architectural point of view Vista House was seen as a dynamic opportunity. In the words of architect Edward Lazarus, the building would be “a temple to the natural beauty of the Gorge” and a memorial to the settlers who originally made the trek along this route in the 1840’s.

For all the dramatic language, the exterior gray sandstone and modest profile establish a quiet presence on the point – appropriate I think, given the drama of the vistas beyond. Inside, the ambience gets richer, with Alaskan marble floors, stained glass windows, and a tall atrium creating more of the original ‘temple’ idea.

You can see that from the interior there is no view of the gorge. I don’t know this for sure, but it seems that the idea was to withhold the view until you climbed up one more level to the terrace built especially for this puppose.

 

From there you can look downriver to the west, where we started.

And on the other side, over the spiraling road, to the east and the rest of our trip.

As is obvious, we encountered a variety of weather; but most of the time it seemed only to enhance the drama of the Columbia River and the Gorge.