In which it turns froggy
I flew into Seattle on Sunday for my current assignment in Pasco, WA.
It's not that I couldn't have flown into Pasco - there is an airport. However, flying to Pacso doubled the cost. I would have arrived later due to changing airplanes in Spokane, or Portland, or Seattle. And, worst, Pasco service is pretty much limited to Dash 8 turboprops. I'm not inclined to fly on a turboprop ever again.
All in all, driving seemed like a better plan. I would have liked to leave Seattle something before I did, but the flight was delayed for an hour and a half out of Denver due the the fifth snowstorm in as many weeks. The drive through the Cascades was fabulous, if rather dim due to the hour. The snow piled on the roadside was reminiscent of home.
Pasco is in the middle of one of the most fertile agricultural regions of the US. Unfortunately, it's also desert. The Bureau of Reclamation, not to be deterred, has dammed up damned near every mile of the Columbia River to meet the "needs" of the agricultural community. The river defines the city limits between Pasco and Kennewick, and since my hotel is in Kennewick, I cross the river via the "Blue" bridge into Pasco ever morning. Here the river is fat, widened into Lake Wallula by the MacNary dam (a Corps of Engineers project) about 37 miles downstream from here.
The "Blue" bridge was built in the early 50's and retains that vintage style. The north-bound approach leaves the driver in the left lane, so you can't really see much of the panorama. Southbound is much better; you can look right over the edge to the northwest, down into the lake-side parks. On clear days (there's been only one so far) the mountains to the west and south of the Tri Cities are visible. The ridge to the south has a large wind farm perched atop it.
Yesterday dawned clear and sunny, but cold. The frost was thick enough on the windshield that I had to sit with the defroster on for several minutes before I had drivable visibility. This morning was as cold, but densely foggy. Foggy enough that I could not see beyond the other side of the street from the hotel. The fog was of course freezing, riming the grass and trees - not to mention cars - with hoarfrost, freezing fog. In a word, "frog". As I drove down the hill the mile or so toward the water, the frog got denser and denser; adrenaline built at 30 miles per hour. Paralleling the river was a little better, but turning north to cross the Blue bridge was a creepy sensation. The highway disappeared into the frog over the Columbia.
Approaching the bridge, only the portal was visible. Having become accustomed to the towering crest of the bridge surmounted by the US flag, I felt like I might have taken a wrong turn - the top of the bridge was apparently gone. Even creepier, the river below had disappeared into the mist. What a sense of isolation!
At the station, my "office" is a conference room on the front of the building, featuring five picture windows. The view has remained dismal all day; only the shifting quantity of frog has changed. Mostly I have been able to see the trees on the north bank of the river about three blocks south of the station, but the light levels have remained low all day. The pines between the building and the street have maintained their rime of frost all day, mostly on the side facing the river. It's dim enough that I keep expecting rain, and am surprised as the cars remain mostly dry.
They tell me that this is not unusual January weather in these parts. The green grass in the front lawn made me think otherwise. Illusion shattered.
It's not that I couldn't have flown into Pasco - there is an airport. However, flying to Pacso doubled the cost. I would have arrived later due to changing airplanes in Spokane, or Portland, or Seattle. And, worst, Pasco service is pretty much limited to Dash 8 turboprops. I'm not inclined to fly on a turboprop ever again.
All in all, driving seemed like a better plan. I would have liked to leave Seattle something before I did, but the flight was delayed for an hour and a half out of Denver due the the fifth snowstorm in as many weeks. The drive through the Cascades was fabulous, if rather dim due to the hour. The snow piled on the roadside was reminiscent of home.
Pasco is in the middle of one of the most fertile agricultural regions of the US. Unfortunately, it's also desert. The Bureau of Reclamation, not to be deterred, has dammed up damned near every mile of the Columbia River to meet the "needs" of the agricultural community. The river defines the city limits between Pasco and Kennewick, and since my hotel is in Kennewick, I cross the river via the "Blue" bridge into Pasco ever morning. Here the river is fat, widened into Lake Wallula by the MacNary dam (a Corps of Engineers project) about 37 miles downstream from here.
The "Blue" bridge was built in the early 50's and retains that vintage style. The north-bound approach leaves the driver in the left lane, so you can't really see much of the panorama. Southbound is much better; you can look right over the edge to the northwest, down into the lake-side parks. On clear days (there's been only one so far) the mountains to the west and south of the Tri Cities are visible. The ridge to the south has a large wind farm perched atop it.
Yesterday dawned clear and sunny, but cold. The frost was thick enough on the windshield that I had to sit with the defroster on for several minutes before I had drivable visibility. This morning was as cold, but densely foggy. Foggy enough that I could not see beyond the other side of the street from the hotel. The fog was of course freezing, riming the grass and trees - not to mention cars - with hoarfrost, freezing fog. In a word, "frog". As I drove down the hill the mile or so toward the water, the frog got denser and denser; adrenaline built at 30 miles per hour. Paralleling the river was a little better, but turning north to cross the Blue bridge was a creepy sensation. The highway disappeared into the frog over the Columbia.
Approaching the bridge, only the portal was visible. Having become accustomed to the towering crest of the bridge surmounted by the US flag, I felt like I might have taken a wrong turn - the top of the bridge was apparently gone. Even creepier, the river below had disappeared into the mist. What a sense of isolation!
At the station, my "office" is a conference room on the front of the building, featuring five picture windows. The view has remained dismal all day; only the shifting quantity of frog has changed. Mostly I have been able to see the trees on the north bank of the river about three blocks south of the station, but the light levels have remained low all day. The pines between the building and the street have maintained their rime of frost all day, mostly on the side facing the river. It's dim enough that I keep expecting rain, and am surprised as the cars remain mostly dry.
They tell me that this is not unusual January weather in these parts. The green grass in the front lawn made me think otherwise. Illusion shattered.
posted by Melanie Unruh-Bays at
3:05 PM
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