Rest in Power, Dabney Spring

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There's a spot on Historic Columbia River Highway, just a few seconds east of the entry to Dabney State Park, along the Sandy River, and just before Neilsen Road forks off and goes up the hill, on the north side of the road.

One year ago, it looked like this:

That stream of water coming out of the pipe in the cement block was termed a spring by people who visited on a constant basis. Now, HCRH is not a wide road and there is literally no safe shoulder there. During dark winter months when I was coming home essentially at night one had to take great care, and especially when it was a heavy rain, there were great opportunities to hydroplane.

During the autumn of last year, though, the Oregon Dept of Transportation and Oregon Parks and Recreation called an end to the free water party. In these days where everything has an electronic constituency, roadside springs do, too, and there was great discussion about it on Find A Spring, at https://findaspring.org/spring/locations/north-america/usa/troutdalespringdale-by-dabney-troutdale-oregon/. There was a lot of dismay in evidence, people upset over it, blaming City of Troutdale and that, but a correspondent posting as Michelle S laid this upon us:

ODOT and the Oregon Parks and Recreation Department have decommissioned the reservoir overflow pipe along the Historic Columbia River Highway near Dabney State Recreation Area because of increasing road safety concerns at the site.

The area has become a danger with motorists stopping, often partially blocking the travel lane, to fill water jugs. The drainage ditch is often blocked by illegal dumping of material and damaged by vehicle traffic, which causes water to overflow onto the highway and creates dangerous driving conditions.

Oregon Department of Transportation and Oregon Parks and Recreation Department posted signs and shared the pending plan with the Northeast Multnomah County Community Association before decommissioning the overflow, which is located along the north side of the Historic Columbia River Highway near Dabney State Recreation Area, east of the Stark Street Bridge.

The pipe originally supplied water to cool car radiators at the time of the Historic Highway’s construction over 100 years ago and was one of a handful of similar water access points, most of which have already been decommissioned. The water that supplies the pipe was not intended as drinking water.

ODOT and OPRD will evaluate the feasibility of creating safer access in the future.

ODOT has already seen crashes at the site and is taking this step to help ensure there are no more.

The nearest publicly available free water can be found 3.2 miles north along the Historic Columbia River Highway at Lewis and Clark State Recreation Site.

Coming up a year later, you can see that they were serious about it. Here's what it looks like now ...

Pipes are gone, and the one that dispensed the water has been sawed off to the level of the block. 

The concrete baffle blocks are all gone, and the sign spells it out plainly.

Don't tell the officer you didn't see the sign.

Now, one will notice that there is water flowing in the roadside ditch. It's not coming from here; it seems to be seeping out of the hillside by the intersection of Nielsen Road about 100 feet east from there. 

Maybe there is some sort of spring. Still, the idea of a series of water cooling stations for early automobiles has a certain logic to it.

Anyone going out that way will notice a few signs up on telephone poles along the road:

It's a real thing, they also have a website, https://www.restoredabneyspring.org/. It's one of those pre-desgined, out-of-the-box websites, and it's kind of tasteful, actually. but there's been no further change in the status of this roadside water port, so I'm guessing they aren't getting very far in their efforts, or at least not yet.

I mean, never say never, but I think the likelihood of Dabney Spring returning is vanishingly small. 

Sic transit gloria mundi.

On A Clear Day, You Can See Vancouver

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I guess I'm on a Rocky Butte tear today. So be it.

The majority of the sightline pictures of my Rocky Butte posting flux were looking east, and I suppose I have an excuse for that, as the Cascade Range is simply a fantastic thing to gaze at and I every day thank the cosmic chance that caused me to come to be here, in this area, because visually I never tire of being alive here. 

Looking east from Rocky Butte is engaging, for different reasons. You look upon Portland's undulating east side, ranks of houses and streets, many many trees, and there's always north of the Columbia.

Dig, if you will ...

I will now amuse myself (and bemuse you, the reader) by pointing out some things in the photo.

That blue swath across the middle is, of course, the mighty Columbia. On this side of the river, closest in, that area of beige flat-top industrial buildings shows where NE Killingsworth St (at this time next year, NE Lombard St, remember) runs east from 82nd. That peculiar-looking double-humped building, the blue gray edifice, is the Boeing Paint Hangar. 

Yep, that's where planes get painted. Also visible there are some jets, presumably in the finishing stages, and to the right of those, the clear area just south and west of PDX, which is a good place to put a Brobdingnagian painting booth for your jet planes. 

The bridge right about dead-center in the photograph is the Interstate Bridge, carrying I-5 over the river into Washington. We'll be replacing that bridge in the next few years, unless we don't, like what happened the last time. Stay tuned there.  And just above and left of that is the railroad bridge, and just beyond that, another shipping ship. 

North bank: you'll notice some tall structures there. This is adjacent to downtown Vancouver, but it's not downtown Vancouver, its the port facilities that I picted a few weeks ago from the other side, from Kelley Point. Vancouver city center is the collection of low-slung blocky shapes immedately to the right of that. Vancouver city center is in a state of flux; they're building a new waterfront district, and developer money is flowing into the area like mad, and there's no plans for new high-rises, but the place is on the grow. 

Backing it all up on the horizon is that spur of the Coast Range we call the Tualatin Mountains, that part of which you'll find Forest Park in.

Cargo Coming In At PDX, As Seen From Rocky Butte, with bonus Luuit

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Rocky Butte, according to Wikipedia:

...is an extinct cinder cone butte in Portland, Oregon, United States. It is also part of the Boring Lava Field, a group of volcanic vents and lava flows throughout Oregon and Washington state. The volcano erupted between 285,000 and 500,000 years ago.

Its summit is 613 feet, or 187 metres, ASL: its obstinance in the face of the Missoula floods is what caused a riffle in the alluvial flow driven by those which we know of today as the Alameda Ridge that snakes its way east-northeastward through NE Portland for several miles, defining a number of neighborhoods and the course of a historic NE Portland street known for lovely views and high property values. 

It also has gorgeous views of its own. It takes in at least two major Cascade volcanoes clearly, miles of tree-covered eastern Portland between there and downtown, beautiful stretches of the great Columbia, parts of Vancouver and Camas, and Mount Tabor, if you look the right direction. Yesterday we spent an invigorating hour on the top of it, at Joseph Wood Hill Park, where there's a viewpoint with pumice paths, and over the next handful of blog posts, I'll be sharing these views.

Yes, there will be Wy'east. Just not yet.

The long view today is centered on a landing UPS cargo jet at PDX. The industrial and commercial land going north from the line formed by Sandy Blvd and Columbia Blvd are spread out at ones' feet here; and this all just so happens to be the main approach from the east to PDX itself. You're never late to spot any given plane; just early for the next one. 

In the foreground you have Government Island bisecting the Columbia and I-205 curving along one of the spans of the Glenn Jackson Bridge. Beyond the Columbia is, of course, the slopes encompassing the riverward part of outer Vancouver's Cascade Park nabe. 

Luuit/Mount St Helens should, at this point need no introduction though, at this time of year, still snow-clad, it's on fine form.

The Bulk Ship Corio Bay Departs The Willamette

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I did say it was as working river, this harbor. Here, now is a bulk ship leaving the Willamette and entering the Columbia for, we're presuming, points west (actually, subsequent checking of VesselFinder.com revealed it was headed for Nanaimo, BC).

This is the good ship Corio Bay.

It sounded a large, booming sound as it proceeded out of one river and into the other, then languidly sailed downstream the Columbia, toward Astoria, and at that speed, it would have made it there that evening. VesselFinder reports that the ship is still at Nanaimo.

VesselFinder also reports that the ship sails under the flag of Hong Kong, but the foretop sports Old Glory, also a maritime flag that is half red, half white:

The Brown Eyed Girl wondered aloud what that meant, so I endeavored to find out. That particular maritime flag says, in International Code of Signals-speak, I have a pilot on board, so the Corio Bay was getting river-pilot assistance to navigate the inland waters of the Columbia. What a life that must be ... there isn't anyone I don't know, including myself, who's wondered about going on that adventure at one time or another in their lives. 

The Mountain And The Port

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The Columbia, as I've said, is a working river.

A hard working river, it must be further defined.

And it does it all beautifully, tended to with care (some enlightened, some misguided, but that's what you get with humans) by all who are deemed temporally responsible for it. It throngs with ships but doesn't seem overwhelmingly polluted; you can walk the shores and the water seems fresher and cleaner than you'd expect, and it's in the most unique setting, with one big town on each bank but majestic volcanic ranges within easy sight.

Those port facilities are on the north bank of the Columbia, a Port of Vancouver terminal in Washington. We, of course, view from the Oregon side. I don't think Wy'east has much of a care or knows what a state is; to Wy'east, it's all one and the same. It's been here before any of us came, and it'll be here long after we go.

Here's a pan-right and extreme closeup looking up river:

That most distant bridge with the two towers and the cable between is our beleaguered and imaginatively-named Interstate Bridge, that's where I-5 crosses. The truss in the middleground is the railroad mainline bridge. The Cascade crest, beyond. It's a big world, my Willamette Valley, but surprisingly narrow. 

Columbia River Pilings, Late Afternoon

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And now, let's go experiential for today's coda:

Just like any working riverbank, there are pilings for things that used to be there and are there no longer and, being easily forgettable, are left to weather away. But I find riverbank pilings especially romantic, with the echoes of time and decay and other things of that nature. 

It should go without saying that the chance at a composition like this is irresistible. 

Where Two Great Rivers Meet: Kelley Point

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Here we return to the recent present, a few days back on our lark to Kelley Point. This is where the mighty Willamette gives its all to the even mightier Columbia. 

To the left of that line of small pilings stretching out to that marker, Oregon's Willamette river; beyond the end of that line, stretching into the distance and off to our right, the mother river of the Pacific Northwest, the Columbia. 

On the left there, that grove of trees is the southeastern-most extent of Sauvie Island, Belle Vue Point. The indigenous name for the island is Wapato, and, at about 33 square miles, it's the largest river island in the Columbia and one of the largest in the United States.

The far shore is in the state of Washington. 

You are on the edge here in multiple ways.

Ship At Dock Near Kelley Point, Portland

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From Parkrose, that day, we headed toward the end of the North Portland Peninsula. The Brown Eyed Girl deemed a visit to Kelley Point was overdue, and who am I to contradict that logic? It's solid. Iron-clad.

For those who are not of the Rose City, the North Portland Peninsula is that part, generally speaking, west of William Avenue where all streets are prefixed NORTH; the Willamette River swings northwestward before finally joining the mighty Columbia. It's an inland peninsula; two of the three defining sides are made up by the Willamette, the other, the Columbia. If you look at a map, that peninsula kind of resembles a thumb it the thumbs up position; at the tip of that thumb, on the right bank, where the Columbia and Willamette join, is Kelley Point. 

There is a City o'Portland park appropriately named after the point.

Now, also, this is the bitter end of Portland's port district. Unlike such cities as Seattle, Portland's port is out on the edge of town (there were terminals closer to downtown, but, like other long-time city residents, they're getting pushed out to the margins too). The port terminal known as Rivergate T5 is on the Willamette River just south of Kelley Point, whereas T6 is located on the south bank of the Columbia just east of that. 

All of which is a roundabout way of saying when you go down to Kelley point at the Columbia side, you are likely to see such as this:

This is the Glovis Corona, a vehicles-carrier according to VesselFinder.com:

Its current position seems to be about 100 miles west of the Columbia bar, making for the general direction of Asia. 

The patina of rust makes it look much older than 25 years; gave it a sort of post-apocalyptic look (but what doesn't have one, these days?). At first, coming through the trees toward the shore, I thought someone put up a big building over there. It's easy to forget how big these brutes are unless they sail right along side of you, or get in the news like Ever Given and the Suez Canal, a few days back.

It's also sort of dishevelled-romantic. Well, at least to this landlubber.