Away up the Lewis River
Account of a trip to the Head of Navigation
Onions and Cheese-Anecdotes of Sauvie's Island-Whiskey, Bull Run Water and Microbes

The Morning Oregonian
Portland, Oregon
January 22, 1900

Having frequently heard df the rich country along the Lewis river, and never having seen it, I very gladly accepted the invitation of Captain Charles S. Kamm to take a trip to the head of navigation on that stream. We left Portland Saturday on the steamer Undine and early Monday morning transferred at the mouth of the Lewis river to the Lewis River Transportation Company's steamer G. M. Walker. 

We arrived at the head of navigation on the north fork at 11 A. M. Sunday, January 14. The Walker was tied up at Hoffman's onion ranch, and half a dozen teams were soon busy hauling down from the onion house some 200 sacks of these fragrant and wholesome bulbs for shipment to Portland. It is a pleasant thing to steel a while away from work now and then, and for one who wrings his alleged brow dry six days in the week, a holiday once a year or so is necessary in order to absorb some surplus information and restore the equilibrium.

The Start.

We left Portland at 3 P. M. Saturday, in a blinding shower of rain, which did not seem favorable for a picnic excursion. By the time the Columbia was reached the rain was over, and, as I had never been able to comprehend the course of the Columbia at this point, I climbed to the pilot-house; where by the aid of Captain Kamm's explanations and the compass I got my head turned right, and found that the course of the river was due north. 

As the captain skillfully made touch-and-go landings at numerous points on both sides of he river, landing hunters out for a Sunday's shooting, and ranchers coming home from the city, he pointed out various well-known shooting lakes, as Morgan's, Jewett's, Sturgeon lake and others, and the residences of many old settlers, the absence of foliage on the trees allowing a, much more extended view than is obtainable in the summertime.

Happenings on Sauvie's Island.

Having pretty well tired out the obliging captain, I turned my attention to an old resident of Sauvie's Island, who was full to running over of information. He pointed out the spot where Ike Thomas, the builder of the steamer Lucea Mason, came to his death. This accident happened while Mr. Thomas was digging a deep trench to drain a lake near the shore. The trench caved in on him, and he died in his boots and standing. 

The Lucea Mason came to her end by being sunk in Lewis river, about 10 years ago, and thus ended the boat and her builder. He next pointed out a little church, the only one on Sauvie's island, which has a rather remarkable history, and is now, as he stated, practically unused. The residents along the Columbia side of the island lived in peace and harmony, while those on the slough side were unharmonious. 

The former decided that, in order to perpetuate their harmony and good feeling, they would build a church where they could meet on Sundays and improve their spiritual tone. The church was built, and the first sermon in it was preached by a resident of the vicinity. The doctrine expounded did not suit all the hearers, and they fell to disputing over it, and in a short time were all at loggerheads, and less in harmony than the residents on the slough side of the island, and there has been not much use for the church since. 

This old settler also stated that a dog owned by Portland sportsmen, who lease duck shooting on the island, and which is left there during the week, had recently amused himself by killing sheep. He killed some 16 one day, and several the next day, and his master's bill for mutton amounted" to about $90, which was paid without a murmur.

On the Washington Side.

After this old resident had gone ashore, the boat crossed to the Washington side and a view was had of the landing for Judge Bellinger's farm, and his house could be seen on a rise just beyond Lake river. When abreast of Warrior rock, the steamer turned up into the mouth of Lake river, where passengers for La Center, on Lewis river, which comes into the Columbia at the same point, were transferred to the Steamer G. M. Walker and sent to their destination. 

The Undine then proceeded up Lake river some three miles, and tied up at the thriving village of Ridgefield for the night. By this time it was quite dark, and, as Ridgefield is a city set on a hill, the people who came down to meet friends, get malls and freight, carried lanterns. As they were straggling back up the hill, looking in the gloom like a procession of fireflies, a great stillness stole over the wharf, boat and river.

Cheese Making

One, other passenger was left aboard, and we speedily made ourselves acquainted, and adjourned to the saloon, where a good fire was burning, and entered into a general discussion of whatever came up, in which Captain Kamm soon joined. The stranger, who proved to be a Front-street commission man, spoke of the quantities of fine cheese made in the Lewis river country, which we were to visit the next day. He said he had been interested in cheese making in Ohio for a number of years. 

Needing some information on the subject, I asked him if there was anything beside calf's rennet which would turn milk into curd for making cheese. He said he had never heard of anything which could take the place of rennet in cheese making, but many of the rennets were imported from Bavaria, and he was not certain that they were all taken from calves. He then spoke of the many advantages that this state possessed over the East in regard to cheese and butter making.

One of these was the mild winters, and another was the cool nights in summer. In New York, for instance, creameries and cheese factories have to be shut down during the worst part of the winter, and in the summer there is a great deal of trouble from milk souring during the hot nights. He asserted that there was no reason why any one possessed of ordinary skill and energy should not make money in any branch of the dairying business in this region, and make as good or better butter and cheese as is made in New York.

The Discussion Wanders.

The discussion then wandered, and the relative merits of Scotch and Irish whiskey were considered, and a decision, based on actual tests, reached. Next the purity of Bull Run water was discussed, and it was held that a water-drinker who mixed a fair proportion of Columbia river water with his Bull Run water or his whisky would be benefited thereby. The sterilizing of milk was decided to be injurious to the digestion, and a proper and natural proportion of microbes in water, milk, butter, cheese and everything else desirable.

The next subject taken up was appendicitis and surgical operations. The removal of 50 pounds of caul fat from an obese person at one of the Portland's hospitals was commented on, and the fondness of doctors for the care of patients condemned. Cases of patients afflicted with various diseases, and forbidden by their physicians to taste water, who had been cured by getting access to ice water and drinking all they wanted, were given, and finally, when, after three hours of interesting, amusing and instructive conversation, bed was mentioned, the case of a man who snored so hard that he caused the two-foot thick walls of a stone house be lived in to vibrate, was given, and also the fact that the man's wife swore that he did not snore, as she had never heard him.

Up the Lewis

Sunday morning the Undine ran down to the mouth of the river, and met the G. M. Walker, and those who were going up Lewis river went on board her and were soon on their way up that stream. The boat was in charge of Captains Kamm, Davis and McNeil, better known as Scotty, all of whom were familiar with the channel. There had been a great rise in the stream a day or two before, and, although the water had fallen about five feet, It was still in flood, and all snags, such as had sunk the Mascot a few days before, were out of sight.

From the pilot house the view through the leafless trees expended across, long stretches of level and fertile meadow, dotted with cattle feeding on the lush grass. A few miles up the fork of the river was reached, and the boat turned up the North fork, the principal branch. The country along the river quite came up to expectations, fine farms, with good buildings, and a general air of prosperity being the rule but of course the summer is the proper time to see the country.

Woodland

Three miles or so up the stream, and the pretty town of Woodland was reached, stretching for a mile or more along the bank. Here a landing was made, and a party went ashore and visited the Woodland cheese factory, which was in full operation. A huge tank of milk had just been converted into curds and whey, and an employee was stirring the curd around and watching a thermometer floating in it. John Bozarth, the manager, showed us over the place and explained everything. 

In answer to a query, he said there was nothing but calf's rennet which would properly change milk into curd for cheese. He showed us through the storeroom, where hundreds of cheese, large and small, were undergoing the process of ripening, and ran a tester into several to allow all who wished to test the quality, which was pronounced to be of the best. The product of this factory is in high favor in Portland. 

Returning to the manufacturing department, several sampled the curd in the tank, and also the whey. This recalled the well known poem about "Little Miss Muffet, who sat on a tuffet, eating curds and whey." The whey is quite sweet, as it contains all the sugar of the milk, but for a steady tipple most people would prefer beer or whiskey. The curd was very nice, and, with cream, forms a dainty and wholesome dish. We were interrupted in our investigations into the cheese business by an impatient shriek from the boat, and so hurried on board and proceeded up the river. Boats do not frequently go above Woodland, and we were quite an attraction, the children gathering on the banks to see us pass, while the older ones waved salutes from their porches.

Nearing the Head of Navigation.

As we proceeded up the river, the bottoms on each side grew narrower, and finally there would be farms only on one side for a while, and then on the other. Sometimes a farm had been moved across the river, and had gone into the business of raising cottonwood on its own responsibility. In one place the river had cut a channel around a whole farm and made an island of it, and was trying to wash away the island. Further up, the banks changed from sand and silt to cement gravel, and the bluffs came down to the river occasionally, and iron ore could be seen cropping out in places.

Hoffman's Ranch.

A little before noon we reached Hoffman's ranch, and tied up to secure a lot of onions for which the ranch is celebrated. This place is some ten or twelve miles above Woodland, and within a mile or two of Aetna, which is as far up as boats go, but on this occasion the boat might have gone much further up. The day was as lovely as could be imagined, a bright sun shining from a clear blue sky, and the air was warm and balmy.

A fine luncheon had been sent along by the steward of the Undine, and a huge pot of coffee was brewed, and everything was lovely, till it was found that the Walker's sugar-bowl had been filled with sauerkraut. After a diligent search a glass pickle dish was found containing plenty of sugar, and luncheon proceeded harmoniously. Half a dozen teams soon brought the onions to the boat, and then she dropped down stream to Hayes, where from a warehouse a lot of sacks of potatoes, boxes of apples and a coop of chickens were taken on board.

Home Again.

The sun was setting in glory behind one range of hills, and a moon as big as a cart-wheel was rising in solemn majesty from behind another as we started down the river. The run to the mouth of the river was made in short order, the current aiding the steam, and transferring to the Undine we ran up to Ridgefield and tied up for the night. Early next morning we ran down to the mouth of the river, and, taking a lot of passengers and freight from the Walker, which had come down from La Center, we were off for Portland, through Bachelor's Island slough, getting a view of the great farm belonging to the Ladd estate, on the way.

Of the numerous landings made, before reaching the Willamette, some 14 in all and the cans of milk, boxes of butter, pigs, chickens, hunters and dead ducks we took on board, it boots not to speak, but we arrived at the Alder-street wharf a few minutes after 10 A. M. with a full cargo of farm and dairy produce. Despite the unfavorable weather at the start, the trip proved a real picnic, and a most enjoyable one, and the only thing I regretted was that I was not able to turn about, and go on another like it, but I made a vow to see the country up the East fork of Lewis river, at the first opportunity.