Into the Woods: Squaxin Park, Olympia, Washington (Oly 02)

Squaxin Park, formerly known as Priest Point Park, is a 314 acre oasis of big trees, mosses, and ferns just north of downtown Olympia on the east shore of Budd Inlet. The Steh-Chass (People of the Water)  settled this land for centuries, living in villages along the shores of Budd Inlet. In 1848, Catholic missionaries, the Oblate Fathers, came to the area with sponsorship or funding by the Hudson’s Bay Company. The Oblate Fathers displaced the Steh-Chass, cleared the land, and established the St. Joseph d’Olympia Mission and school. The Mission only lasted until 1860, after which the land lay idle for 45 years. In 1905, a group of land investors deeded some of the land to the City of Olympia to form a park. 

Priest Point Park, early 1910s (from City of Olympia)

The original park name was Priest Point, but the priests were only there for 12 years. Converting heathens must have proven a bit too difficult or not sufficiently lucrative.

The importance of this timeline is that the forest in the park has been largely undisturbed for about 150 years. This is not old growth forest but is as close as you will encounter near an urban area. The dense mosses, ferns, and towering tree trunks hint at what old growth forest must have looked like. Pockets of old growth or at least very old trees exist in the Olympic Peninsula, but Squaxin Park is closer and easier to reach (and it is only a 10 minute walk north of where I now live). 

Ellis Cove at low tide

Woods above Mission Creek

Dusk in Squaxin (1+ sec. exposure)

Trail to Ellis Cove

Rest area at Ellis Cove

I took these pictures with my little Fuji X-E1 digital camera and the compact 27mm ƒ/2.8 Fuji lens. I have not exercised this kit much in the last few years but need to refamiliarize myself with its functions. It is convenient and easy to use. For most of the pictures above, I used the Astia simulation and set the frame to 1:1 to resemble the square frame of a Rolleiflex. This crops off the edges, so you end up with fewer pixels in your files. One of the µ4/3 Panasonic cameras, the GH2, had a multi-aspect ratio sensor, so setting various frame sizes used different parts of the oversized sensor. But I think all current digital cameras simply chop off part of the frame. 

Digital is certainly convenient. The pictures are usually "sharp" (whatever that means), the exposure is usually decent, and the camera adjusts the white balance for many light conditions. You take pictures, go home, download the files, and you are ready to use them. I formerly would open the raw files and adjust them with software, but honestly, the jpeg files that the camera computes look fine for 8-bit web display. I never got into the use of Lightroom or developing a secret formula to manipulate the raw files.

Despite having used 4/3, µ4/3, APS, and compact digital cameras, I think the best digital files in my archives are from a 2005-vintage 10 mpixel Sony DSC R1 camera. Despite being "early" technology, the output was superb.

Athens in 1964 with an Instamatic 500 Camera

2024 New Year Note

Dear Readers, welcome to 2024. Thank you all for your support. In the upcoming year, look for a mixture of new material and more treasures (garbage?) from my archives. I also want to scan more of my father's negatives. My New Year's resolution is to sort through much of this old material and purge. 

Resolution 2: Don't buy more cameras. But a friend said he would send me his Mamiya RB67..... 

Resolution 3: Use some of the film in my freezer before buying any more new film. The 120 Panatomic-X is 35 years old. It responds perfectly so far, but its life is finite. 

The Kodak Instamatic 500

Kodak Instamatic 500 camera (photo source unknown)

My dad always took pictures. So when I was in elementary school, I wanted a camera, too. My childhood friend had an Instamatic 100 and, later, the 104 (the 4 meant it could accept flashcubes). 

In the early 1960s, Instamatics and the associated type 126 film cartridge were Eastman Kodak's marketing marvel, an astonishing sales success worldwide. Kodak introduced the one-piece film cartridge in 1963. The cameras were easy to use. Many casual photographers had endless trouble loading 35mm film into a camera, but the one-piece 126 cassette solved that complexity. All a user needed to do was place the plastic film cassette into the camera and close the back. Most Instamatics were simple cameras with a fixed aperture, but some had early-vintage auto exposure. Some even has a hand-wind spring motor to advance the film. 

Kodak sold 126 film until the early 2000s. Their last Instamatic camera was the X-15F in 1988. Mike Eckman has written a detailed summary of the film and its history. He also summarized ways to load  35mm film into recycled or brand new 126 cartridges. 

I did not know anything about cameras, so an Instamatic seemed like the logical path. I saved my allowance and, with help from the parents, requested a Kodak Instamatic 500 camera. A relative bought one in Germany and brought it home to Greece.

From The Bulletin, August 14, 1965

Unlike most of the simple box versions, the 500 let you focus manually and had a built-in Gossen selenium light meter. The 45mm ƒ/2.8 Xenar lens was a modern and coated 4-element Tessar type. Mike Eckman wrote a detailed review of the Instamatic 500 and its history, so I will not try to repeat details here. On Instamatic standards, the 500 was capable of decent negatives or slides.

I did not know what I was doing, but the instruction manual said look at the distance scale and turn the aperture scale until the light meter needle pointer was in the middle of the bar in the viewfinder. Simple even for a youngster. Here are some 1964 examples from Greece. The film was probably Verichrome Pan (which I used and liked in 2021 in 120 format). 

Athens view west from Lycabettus Hill

In the 1960s, Athens was growing furiously. Elegant turn of the century townhouses were being torn down and replaced with rectangle concrete apartment buildings of no architectural merit. Now, some 60 years later, they look like tired nondescript apartment buildings with inadequate elevators, bathrooms, and electrical supply. My 1964 photograph shows the ugly constriction.

Athens view south from Lycabettus Hill

To the south, the scene is about the same. The stadium in the middle is the site of the 1896 Olympic Games revival. The suburb beyond is Nea Smyrni, an area settled by Greek refugees from Anatolia after the disasterous 1923 war and the subsequent exchange of populations between Greece and Turkey (i.e., forced ethnic cleansing).  

Athens view east

This is the view towards Mount Hymmetus. Today, the urban sprawl extends a lot further up the slopes.  The American Embassy is the modern white building with columns in the center just beyond the green slope. Bauhaus architect Walter Gropius designed the chancery building, which was completed in 1961. I recall when you could drive right up to the building and enter the basement garage. Now, it is surrounded by tall walls and the sidewalks have truck bomb concrete barriers. The concrete ramp in the foreground is part of the ramp for a funicular. 

S.S. Hanseatic in Piraeus

A trip to see ships in Piraeus was always a treat. This was the S.S. Hanseatic of the Hamburg-Atlantic Line. Built in 1930, this was formerly the Empress of Scotland steamship. The Hamburg-Atlantic Line bought it and extensively rebuilt it, replacing her three funnels with two modern style funnels. Note the open lifeboats, a deadly way to save passengers in case of an evacuation on the open Atlantic ocean. In 1964, passengers still crossed The Atlantic via ocean liner, but the Boeing 707 airliner was in the process of crushing the traditional cross-ocean passenger ship business. 

Unknown sports car near Mount Pendeli

Update: a reader from Germany wrote that this sports car is an Auto Union 1000 Sp roadster (3 cylinders, two-stroke, front wheel drive).

Picnic somewhere near Mount Pendeli

Family friends invited me to a picnic. The stove with all the smoke was a clever Israeli folding camp stove that burned crushed newspaper. I do not know if it could handle the heat of wood or charcoal. Sitting on the rocky soil on newspaper does not look too comfortable. 

My mom and two cousins somewhere near the sea

A typical Sunday outing was to go to a taverna by the sea and eat. The adults hung about and talked, while the children were bored and ran around. Note the poofy hair in classic 1964 style.

Sitting around at a taverna

Yes indeed, here are the adults sitting around at the taverna. The kid looks bored. Don't forget the high-heeled shoes for the Sunday casual outing.

This ends out short look back at 1964 through a Kodak Instamatic 500 camera. As you can see, for internet display, the quality is quite acceptable. I could not find any companies that sell new 126 film, but some adapter kits exist to reload perforated 135 film into 126 cartridges. The Film Photography Project may be trying to reintroduce 126, but I have not kept up with their progress. 

I used my 500 for about 5 years and then progressed to a Nikkormat FTn camera in December of 1968. This was a much more sophisticated camera and used the dreaded "complicated" 135 cartridges. The Instamatic stayed in a drawer until a friend borrowed it to use while rock climbing. It disappeared at some stage, but I did not plan to use it again. If you have an Instamatic at home, buy a reloaded 126 cassette and test it - have some 1960s fun.

From the Space Needle in 1995 (Seattle, Washington)

Business took me to western Washington in 1995. A coworker and I looked at the beach at Ocean Shores, which faces the Pacific Ocean at the mouth of Grays Harbor. Southward sediment transport had built a wide beach against the north jetty. Developers were building condominiums on the beach. Was this a vulnerable location? Were there feasible escape routes if sirens warned of a tsunami? What would happen to the beach if the sediment transport shifted to moving north? 

After the field trip, we had a few days to spend in Seattle. My coworker had never been to the city and was intrigued by the Space Needle. A fellow we met under the Needle generously offered us two free tickets for the elevator. It was a gorgeous sunny day, so, of course we took the lift to the viewing balcony.

Room with a view: Space Needle from the Mediterranean Inn (Fuji digital photograph taken with a Jupiter-8 lens)

2004 panorama of South Lake Union district from Eastlake Avenue E

First, the general setting. This is a 2004 panoramic photograph of Queen Anne (the hill to the right), South Lake Union, Uptown, and Belltown districts (taken with a Hasselblad X-Pan camera). The Needle is the iconic tower built for the 1962 World's Fair. In the 1970s, when I was a student here, this area south of Lake Union was a commercial district of warehouses and manufacturing. By the early 2000s, it was transforming into condos, clubs, museums, and modern businesses. In the photograph above, the red building in the foreground is part of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, one of the foremost cancer research institutes in the world. Click the picture to enlarge the scene and see the snowy Olympic Mountains in the distance.

Port of Seattle, view south from Space Needle

Now, let's ascend to the viewing balcony on the Space Needle and look south. Seattle is a high value seaport. It is a spectacular natural harbor because it is ice-free, deep, and sheltered from Pacific Ocean storms. In the photograph above, you can see the container terminal in the distance with a freighter in the roadstead. A ferry boat is on its way to Bremerton. Many Seattleites commute daily via the ferries. Seattle is also a major cruise terminal, but I do not see any cruise ships in this scene. 

To the left, you can see two features that are now, thankfully, gone. 

The big white dome is the infamous Kingdome. I recall some of the controversy during construction in the 1972-1973 period. It was sited in the Industrial District south of Pioneer Square. African-American businesses were displaced (i.e., forced out at low real estate values). Construction was plagued with errors, poor design, and a contractor who was unable to complete the work. The building suffered water problems. Parts of the roof collapsed in 1994. Finally, controlled implosion brought down the nasty structure in March of 2000. A century-old African-American community had been replaced by a boondoggle that lasted 27 years. King County taxpayers had to pay for the bonds for another 15 years. Hmmm, is it possible some corruption might have been involved?

Alaskan Way Viaduct before demolition (from Wikimedia, based on Open Street Maps)

To the right of The Kingdome is the Alaskan Way Viaduct, a double-decked freeway that carried State Route 99 along the waterfront. The city built the viaduct in three phases between 1949 and 1953. It cut off the city from the waterfront, similar to the way the Southeast Expressway in Boston became a barrier between Boston, the North End, and the waterfront. The web site, The Historic Pacific Highway in Washington, has more information about the viaduct. 

Engineers knew that the viaduct was vulerable to earthquakes. The 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake in Oakland, California, destroyed the similar Cypress Street Viaduct, causing 42 deaths.  The 2001 Nisqually earthquake in Seattle damaged the viaduct and its supporting Alaskan Way Seawall. The steel flanges, girders, and bolts that I saw in 2004 were attempts to shore up the structure of the viaduct.  

My coworkers at the Corps of Engineers were well aware of the viaduct's earthquake vulnerability. They told me which lanes to use in case the upper structure collapsed. By carefully driving between the concrete support rows, my car would be only partly squashed by the descending concrete roadway. I was so reassured....

After long and heated debate, King County, the city, and the Port of Seattle decided to bore a tunnel under the route of the viaduct and totally remove the concrete eyesore. You know the story: the tunnel cost vastly more than originally predicted and numerous technical issues slowed construction, but it finally opened to traffic in February of 2019. Demolishing and crunching up the viaduct took only a year. The city now has access to the waterfront without the concrete eyesore. 

On recent trips to Seattle, I have driven Route 99 instead of fight the traffic on I-5. The tunnel appears to flow well while I-5 is bumper-to-bumper. Cameras automatically tag your car to identify where to send a bill for the toll. 

Union Bay with University of Washington Campus in the distance

Turn to the northeast and look at the body of water. Union Bay is a freshwater bay in the center of Seattle. The Fremont Cut (to the left) lets boats reach Puget Sound via the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks. The Montlake Cut, beyond the I-5 bridge in the distance, gives access to Lake Washington. Museums, shipyards, houseboats, and seaplane companies line the shore of Lake Union. "Sleepless in Seattle" takes place in these houseboats. The Vashon Glacier excavated the lake about 12,000 years ago and sculpted most of the contemporary geomorphology in the Puget lowlands.

Lake Union view south

This is Lake Union from the Gas Works Park, the site of a former coal gasification plant from the early 20th century. The Gas Works operated from 1873 to 1956, when natural gas from Canada supplanted the nasty and toxic gas plant. A landscape architect and University of Washington professor, Richard Haag, designed a plan to convert the site into a park, retaining some of the steel towers and tubes.

This ends our much too quick overview of Seattle. I want to look at my 1970s archives and see if there are more photographs from downtown.

By the way, if you want to see a really bad Elvis movie that features the Space Needle, watch "It Happened at the World's Fair." As TCM described it, "The Monorail and Space Needle are prominent as Mike (Elvis Presley) and friend Sue-Lin (Vicky Tiu) take in the sights". It is an utterly absurd plot, but Elvis sings. What more could you want in a movie?

Cruising Rural South Central Washington

Years ago, when I was young and strong, I sometimes hiked on Mount Rainier in south central Washington state. Back then, I did not do urban decay photography and did not pay attention to the rural towns south of Seattle. Finally, in summer of 2023, I had a chance to revisit the area and take a few snapshots. These towns were probably a lot more interesting in the 1970s, when the lumber industry was beginning to wind down and western Washington state had not gone through its conversion from a resource extraction economy to a high technology, finance, and arts economy. 

I sometimes regret not photographing good grunge when it was available. However, many people argue with plenty of backup evidence that infrastructure and small town society in USA has deteriorated in recent decades. The rural South certainly shows this pattern. But even here in the Pacific Northwest, I expect to find interesting material to photograph in the future as I explore. 

Let us take a short drive from Olympia towards Paradise, on the south side of Mount Rainier. 

Looking for coffee in Rainier

Rainier is a former lumber town and appears to be a bit rough. I want to explore soon.

 

Mountain Highway E, La Grande, Washington

Old La Grande Post Office

La Grande is an unincorporated community in Pierce County. Most people heading to Mount Rainier buzz on through in a hurry.

Elbe, Washington

The Mount Rainier Scenic Railway runs between the towns of Elbe and Mineral. I am not sure if the cars on the siding above are currently used or if the railroad has other rolling stock. 

  

Time for coffee in Ashford

Keep driving east and going up in elevation, and you pass Ashford. There is not much there, but you could pick up a coffee.

Copper Creek Inn

Near the Nisqually entrance to Mount Rainier National Park is the Copper Creek Inn, Cabins, and Lodge. They claim that this is the oldest continuously-operating restaurant in the state, in business since 1946. We has a superb salmon meal, and their blackberry pie is a piece of berry and culinary heaven (dare I compare it with the chocolate baklava at Niko Niko's in Houston??). Regardless, I am heading back to Copper Creek. 

Mount Rainier is an impressive stratovolcano, rising to 14,410 ft above sea level. I have not climbed to the summit but have walked a section of the Wilderness Trail, which circles the mountain. The Paradise visitor center on the south side of the mountain is mobbed in summer with tourists. Plan ahead, go early.

Snow lake - you can't see the mosquitoes

Snow Lake is an easy walk from the Stevens Pass Road, a short distance from the Paradise Visitor's Center. The highest elevation is 4,700 ft (1440 m), so easy breathing. In June, the mosquitoes were not easy!! 

At Tugboat Annie's, Olympia

Back to Olympia and dinner at Tugboat Annie's. Someone is still in the 1970s with his VW dune buggy.

I took most of the photographs with expired Kodak Bright Sun (= Gold 100) film using my Voigtländer Vito BL camera. The 50mm ƒ/3.5 Color-Skopar lens (a 4-element Tessar design) always performs well. I exposed the film at EI=100, but for the next roll, I will give more exposure (EI=64). The film is more grainy than fresh rolls, and some of the colors are a bit off. It was a worthwhile experiment, and I have three more rolls to use. 

Ladies of Athens

Everyone knows that Greece produces beautiful ladies. Is it true? Well, let's see some proof. Here are my examples (I know, I know, it's a cliche, but I could not resist).

Athens Flea Market

This is the modern flea market, not the interesting and organic one that my dad explored in the 1950s. I think much of the merchandise in the modern market is from China, made for the tourist trade. But a few vendors sell military uniforms, and at least two vendors sell LP records and CDs. I bought some Maria Callas CDs in 2023 to take on my cross-country drive.

Let's look at the lovelies of the market.

The nautical look, ready for a shipowner to come along with his yacht (or oil tanker)

The scooter look, when a shipowner is not available.

The Little Red Riding Hood look?

The mysterious look

The Soviet nostalgia look. I saw this odd phenomena in Cartagena, Columbia, as well.

A wolverine ruff for those brutal Arctic winter days in Athens

Oops, wrong outfit. Just a fur ruff atop a sheer blouse and tights. 

Here's looking at you, kid. I may try yellow frames the next time I renew my glasses.

Nea Ionia

Nea Ionia is a suburb about 7 km north of the Athens city center. It is a vibrant commercial area originally settled by refugees from the defeat in Anatolia in 1923. Today, it features great restaurants and a large Pakistani community. 

That is a tough and sassy lady. But her guy does not look too tough to me.

Well, this guy does not look much tougher, either. She is putting him in his place.

Halandri

Halandri (sometimes written as Chalandri) is a hip and trendy suburb about 12 km north of the downtown. Some of the streets in the central area have been converted into pedestrian walkways. I have eaten in some excellent restaurants in Halandri. My elementary school is still has its Halandri campus, but the former surrounding farm fields are now an urban sprawl. But Halandri has its beauties, too.

Blond in the wind

Brunette in the wind. 

Hat as large as a sail or parachute

Is this Julie Christie in Dr. Zhivago?

Forgot to trim my bangs

Pireaus

Piraeus is the port of Athens. It is a bustling marine and commercial/industrial city. Although still a separate city, today the urban sprawl covers all the land between Athens and Piraeus. It is always interesting to explore. The original 1970s Metro line will take you there, as will the newer tram. I have written about Piraeus before. 

It must be warm in the showcase

Ready to party

I captured many of these lovelies with my Olympus E-330 digital camera. It was "only" 7.5 megapixels, but for web display or printing 11×14 inch paper prints, that is more than adequate data. These digital files were easy to manipulate. The E-330 is gone, but I should revise my Fuji X-E1 camera soon.