Thursday, June 5, 2014

Restoration at Wilkes Park

Hidden in the outskirts of East Portland, in a neighborhood almost nobody who doesn't live there knows about, there is a small treasure. Located on a small overgrown plot of land about the size of two city parcels, a creek emerges from an underground culvert and flows freely through a charming wood for about 200 feet before diving back underground, beneath a block of modern tract houses, to eventually outlet as a tributary to the Columbia Slough. This is Wilkes Creek.

Wilkes Creek emerging from its culvert
Several months ago I helped with planting native plants upstream at the Wilkes Creek headwaters on the site of an old farm that had once been in the distant countryside, but has gradually been engulfed by the growing city. The farm has recently been acquired by the City of Portland Parks Department, and the human-facilitated conversion from fields to wildnerness area is underway. The water emerges from springs on the former farmland, and the newborn creek flows behind a quiet subdivision and into its culvert, where it runs beneath Wilkes City Park before emerging into the north end of the newly-minted Wilkes Creek Natural Area, the little wooded plot I worked at on Saturday.

I arrived ten minutes late due to mistakenly driving first to the wrong end of the park (oops!) but I was quickly filled in and set to work watering plantings. There was a truck with a tank, but since the pump wouldn't work we got the water flowing using gravity to siphon it to the plants. Each plant needed a full minute of watering, so I found myself in a zen state of observing my surroundings. This is my kind of volunteer work!

The water truck
Other workers busied themselves with cleaning up garbage (and boy howdy, there was plenty of it!) and hauling mulch for the new seedlings, and after chatting a bit with the organizer I lost myself in the interior of the little woods. There was a large red elderberry, and nearby were delicate blue eggshells from a nearby robin's nest.

Red elderberry
A snowberry seedling in its mulch cradle
I took a lot of pictures. Blogger kind of organizes photos however it wants, so please forgive the seemingly random layout! I finished the day up by mulching a lot of baby shrubs and trees, and managed to work up a sweat. I am completely envious of the residents of the neighborhood around Wilkes Creek for the beautiful little jewel they have running through their midst, and I wish I had one in my neighborhood too, but all the creeks near the city's center have been sent to languish underground, sadly.
Robin's egg shells
The view from on top of the culvert
A colony of aphids, thriving on goldenrod
A young Cascara
Red-flowering currant
Looking through the culvert... can you see
the rectangle of green light at the other end? 
Looking downstream from the culvert
The interior of the lot, with a silver birch

The Vanport Flood Tour


About a month ago, I mentioned the Vanport Flood. For those who aren't in the know, Vanport was at one time the second largest city in Oregon and, with 40,000 residents at its peak, the largest housing development in the US, built by Henry Kaiser to house shipbuilders and their families during World War II. Estimates hold that over 100,000 people lived in Vanport between construction in 1942 and its final days, but on May 30th, 1948, after weeks of high water, the levee was breached at 4:17 in the afternoon, and Vanport flooded. 

Official records state that only 15 lives were lost, but some oldtimers report pulling many more bodies than that out of the water. It stands to be said that the City of Portland has been known to rewrite its own history from time to time, particularly when it comes to Vanport, so while I certainly can't say the official death toll has been fudged, it seems like a matter for research an enterprising history student might consider undertaking - I'm a biologist, not an historian, so I won't delve too deeply into the historical stuff, but if you want more information about Vanport, check out The Oregon History ProjectHistory Link's essay on the floodColumbia River Images' page on Vanport, this excellent article by the Portland Tribune, and not least, the history pages at Portland State University, which was born from the integrated Vanport Extension Center.

Rose gall
For the last ten years, the Columbia Slough Watershed Council has been offering a flood anniversary tour of the area that had been Vanport, and this year I joined about 40 other people for a four-stop jaunt around the West end to hear Susan Barthela local Columbia Slough expert, along with survivors of the flood, tell its story. We gathered at the Delta Park/Vanport light rail station, which is located near the east end of where West Vanport had been.

Mosaic map of Vanport










The first thing I noticed was completely unrelated to Vanport history; these rose bushes seem to be infected with some kind of gall-forming parasite that causes them to grow these beautiful, if bizarre, tumors. I've never seen anything like them before and had no idea what they were, but a quick search after I got home revealed that they're caused by a tiny wasp. Gross, and yet charming at the same time.

Railing made from bronzed items recovered from flood debris
The tour began, and we trekked up to the top of the light rail platform to look at some of the commemorative art; a mosaic map of Vanport City, a railing made of bronzed items recovered from the flood debris, and three large metal plates commemorating the high water marks in the days leading up to the flood.

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We moved from the light rail station to the next stop on the tour, Portland International Raceway. PIR sits smack on the area of the floodplain that was once West Vanport, covered with apartment buildings, and we learned that not only are there still old foundations to be found on the raceway grounds, but that they still find flood debris from time to time.

The crowd gathered on the top of the Slough levee (the former floodplains are now completely encircled with levees, protecting them from flooding both by the Columbia River and by the Columbia Slough... I'll come back to that) to hear more about events the day of the flood, and also to hear stories of childhood in Vanport.


The Columbia Slough
One gentleman, Frank, was utterly captivating as he reminisced about swimming in the slough, days spent waging war with the kids across the channel, and even about fishing with the charnel from the slaughterhouses as blood and offal was dumped directly into the water, rendering the slough thick, red, and fouled. He made us laugh when he told us about kids swimming among the turds in the slough, because of course back then the city was still flushing its sewage directly into the waterway. "We just pushed 'em aside," he said with a wry chuckle, "it didn't bother us none." (I'd like everyone who yearns for "a simpler time" to dwell on that image for a few minutes).

One question that came up several times was "Why did it flood?" People wanted to know what caused the flood, and whether it would happen again. It was certainly not the Columbia River's first flood, nor was it its last, and it will flood again... of that we can be certain. Like most things in Nature, the causes of the flooding in this area are manyfold and complex, but contributors include the convergence of several cyclical occurrences. One was an especially heavy snowpack in mountains that contribute to both the Columbia and Willamette rivers, which converge at the West end of the Slough. Another was an unusually warm Spring, not terribly unlike the one we are enjoying right now, melting that large snowpack at a rapid rate. Yet another contributor were heavy seasonal rains. We may have any of these events in any given Spring, but when they all come together, the result is high water like we saw in 1896, 1948, and 1996. We will certainly see high water like this again.

Vanport informational kiosk at Force Lake
But will it flood? That's certainly the relevant question, and whether the industry and housing in the old floodplain stays intact depends entirely on whether the levees are high enough, and hold. We, as humans, tend to think of our constructions and our designs to hold back the forces of Nature as being strong and durable, but the disasters that we have seen in just the last couple of decades, including the flooding in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and the devastation of the tsunami in Japan, illustrate very well how transient human engineering is in the face of the imperturbable, vast weight of natural forces. This planet is our home, but it's a home that really doesn't care one way or another about wiping us out if we happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or happen to be working at odds with its geological processes. I'm kind of hoping that, assuming we survive another few millennia, we eventually get to a point where instead of trying to control nature, we try to figure out how we can best fit into it.

The third stop on our tour was Force Lake, the site my first post on this blog was written about. It was nice to see, a month later, the young trees I'd helped plant and the native plants we had cleared space for thriving. Of course, many of the invasive species are also thriving, and they will continue to thrive; there's no unringing the bell. The tour guide talked a little more about the breach in the levee, and the group was off to see the railway embankment that sprung the initial, unstoppable leak. The levees are much better now, of course, higher and stronger. The City of Portland is, as many cities which have developed on floodplains, seeking FEMA certification. There is an air of certainty that the mistakes of the past will stay in the past, never to be repeated.

A beautiful shrub I don't recognize, also at Force Lake