Near sundown, angled rays of light scraped the underside of clouds to the west as I entered the newly reopened Mitchell Point Tunnel. Constructed in 1915 as part of the Columbia River Highway, the engineer, Samuel Lancaster, modeled the windowed tunnel after a Swiss version he had seen while touring Europe. Until 1953 car traffic enjoyed views looking out of the tunnel’s row of huge, elegant windows towards Washington State across the river. When Highway I-80 was built as a two-lane road around the base of Mitchell Point, it necessitated the closing of the tunnel above. The windows were cemented closed and the tunnel filled with gravel. In the 1960s, the widening of the highway below into becoming the four-lane I-84 highway required blasting away the tunnel’s windows, emptying it of gravel, and leaving its former roadway as a shelf to catch falling rocks from the point above.
Some time ago, I saw a postcard showing a Model T lit by the large windows as the car passed through the Mitchell Point Tunnel. I was enchanted. Not familiar with the tunnel’s history or its exact whereabouts, I would look for the windows as I drove the Gorge. I was never successful at spotting them until a day in 2023 when I was returning from Portland and looking up was startled to see windows appearing like an apparition of black-drawn holes in the gray basalt rock face. The state of Oregon had garnered funding to reconstruct the tunnel to become a stretch of the Columbia River biking and walking path.
I texted my friend Bryan who was in the midst of a cancer regime (Waiting for the Results of a Biopsy), sent him a link about the tunnel’s coming reopening, and suggested that when he finished treatment, we’d make a trip to walk it. He passed away five months later, never having left the confines of Seattle. (After Death, The Wake) When the tunnel opened in April of 2025, I visited and took a rock of Bryan’s, one he had gathered from the tiny Canadian island he had owned. The smooth black rock—Puget Sound tumbled—was hand-sized; Bryan's spirit held in its pleasing heft.