Quick, what’s the first thing you think of when I say “Pacific Northwest”?
If you said Mt. St. Helen’s or Washington apples or Douglas Firs, get thyself to the back of the bus. Because, of course, the correct answer is “Rain.” This week, the rain came to the Pacific Northwest with a capital R.
Out in the Pacific Ocean, fah, fah away, narrow bands of moisture form and pick up copious amounts of water vapor as they push their way across the ocean to their bullseye: the West Coast. And when one of these babies hits, it dumps all its water. Atmospheric rivers, they’re called, and we get ’em, sometimes big time. They are powerful, and this past week, we got hit with two of them. Factoid: The atmospheric rivers we get here in Washington are called Pineapple Express, because they originate northeast of the Hawaiian islands.
And here, I always thought “Pineapple Express” was a movie.
If you’re going to quote me as an authority when you talk to your friends about atmospheric rivers and the Pineapple Express, I misspoke above. We didn’t get two Pineapple Expresses this week; it was just the one, only at one point it slipped south for a couple of hours to Oregon, before sliding back up for round 2 in Washington.
It was no 40 days and 40 nights; more like 40 hours, but still, it dumped 16 inches of rain in some spots. The rain’s a problem, but the compounding and bigger problem is the rivers coming down from the mountains, bringing the snow melt along with the rain.
A lot of people and places suffered major flooding. I was not one of them, but others in my town were not so lucky. Our little town of Snohomish is located in the Snohomish Valley and has two rivers that run through it — a small one that flanks my street that calmly went about its business this week, and a second one, a much larger river, aptly named the Snohomish River. I don’t live near that one, but those who do, who have homes and businesses along the river, got hit hard. The river continues out of town, and in one six-mile stretch, there’s a scenic river road that hugs the river. This past Wednesday it was open in the morning, but by that night, it was closed. It’s still closed. The river crested at 33.5 feet, a record. Flooding began at 25 feet.
That’s the good news. The bad news is that another Pineapple Express is set to arrive tonight (Sunday). I don’t wish to be a Debby Downer, but this has mudslides written all over it.
The Snohomish River is but one of a dozen major rivers in Washington to have flooded. One of the others is the Snoqualmie, which is not to be confused with Snohomish. I know, it’s tricky, these names. What the Snoqualmie has is Snoqualmie Falls — home of the fictional Twin Peaks, don’t you know. In right-now real life, the falls are raging, and the local news loves to show close-ups of rage. It’s a powerful image. It’s that picture at the top.
No one knew that better than David Lynch (who directed “Twin Peaks”). I’m in the middle of watching Season 2. And since the flood, I have divided the season into two parts: 1) the episodes I watched before we got flooded and 2) the episodes I’ve watched since the flood.
“Twin Peaks” is weird enough as it is, but what was really weird the other night was seeing the raging falls on the news and 10 minutes later, seeing the same falls, same shot, as Twin Peaks entertainment. Talk about being in the moment, weird as it was.
On today’s turntable, we’ve got Rickie Lee Jones …