People look on as a rising Cowlitz River comes up to the edge of Stover Road on Wednesday afternoon near Packwood.
Cows find high ground in a flooded field west of Randle along Peters Road on Wednesday afternoon.
PACKWOOD — There is no such thing as a normal flood for those who stake their claims along the Cowlitz River.
Debris and an ever-shifting channel alter each flood’s particular path and the associated dangers that come along with it.
In East Lewis County, though, it seems the emergency relief, rescue and cleanup efforts that wash in with the floods are simply business as usual.
While a few unlucky shacks and cabins floated down the Cowlitz River and residential roads imitated the waterway streets of Venice, many residents simply slipped on their rain boots and went out to see what needed to be done Wednesday.
County work crews were out in force all day. They drove flooded streets to their submarine termination and casually measured high-water marks in the various flood zones. Each crew traveled in a truck and plow convoy.
Weather-worn residents did not wait for government assistance to come find them.
Many East Lewis County residents used the unexpected day off to take their dogs for walks as curious cats cautiously checked things out during intermittent sun showers.
Plenty of pickup trucks loaded with kin and canines were seen mobbing through mud puddles while surveying the damage and checking on their neighbors.
In Packwood, it was the High Valley community that took the brunt of the Cowlitz River’s blow. Rose Holmes, a resident of the High Valley community for the past five years, makes her home about 100 feet from the low bank of the Cowlitz.
To her, a rising river is just the way it goes, and so she slept right through the thick of the flood.
“During the night, it was pretty darn high, but I was asleep,” said Holmes, whose home was an island unto itself in the new river channel while she slumbered. “I woke up at about 7 and looked outside and it was clear up to here,” she said pointing at the front porch steps.
Holmes got the riverfront house from her sister, who lived through the high watermark floods of 1996 and 2007. Holmes said that the river rose 3 feet into the house in 1996, and after her sister was swamped again in ‘07, “That’s when she decided to leave.”
Despite the dangers and inconveniences, Holmes isn’t interested in leaving her home.
“I’m the only other person who lives down here full time,” she said, noting that this week’s flood was “way higher” than the two previous floods this season.
“Besides, as long as it’s flooding, I get cheaper rent,” laughed Holmes.
Mike Lytle and Al Ducatt are old friends as well as neighbors of Holmes’ in the High Valley community.
Lytle was blown away by the diversity of damage throughout the neighborhoods, as one street took on feet of water and another of similar elevation remained relatively dry.
“Some folks didn’t even know what was going on,” said Lytle. “I showed up at Al’s house and he’s sitting there having a cup of coffee. Just having himself a nice and normal morning.” Meanwhile, noted Lytle with a chuckle, “I’ve got a river running through my front yard.”
For a while, Al and Mike stood at the river’s crumbling edge and watched as the current battered a white shack that had been swept away and wrecked on a massive drift pile of logs.
“A few weeks ago we were out there salvaging antique siding out of those drift piles,” said Ducatt, who noted that the pieces were high quality tongue and groove panels.
Recently washed-up bike helmets, tires and lumber lay in muddy ruin at his feet.
Living along the banks of the wandering Cowlitz River you learn quickly that the river gives, and the river takes away.
That’s just part of an ordinary day, many residents said, even when the river behaves extraordinarily.
“It kind of comes and goes,” Lytle said. “This river is pretty hit and miss sometimes. It just does what it wants.”
