KOSMOS — In the calm flats where two gurgling creeks snake about the northeast banks of Riffe Lake near Glenoma, evidence of a vanished logging town has once again emerged.
Square concrete foundations, protruding wood beams and a destroyed bridge were once part of Kosmos, which was purposefully flooded out in 1968 as part of Tacoma Powers Mossyrock Dam construction on the Cowlitz River.
Power is generated when the lake is drawn through the dam by utility officials, and it is especially low this year due to flooding concerns about the higher-than-usual snowpack, which is about 160 percent of normal.
According to National Weather Service officials, snowmelt alone will not cause a major flood, but combined with another subtropical storm like the one that caused Decembers disaster, the results could be equally grave.
Snowpack is not correlated to a high flood threat for rivers on this side of the mountains. Theyre made to handle the increase in the summer, said Dennis DAmico, a NWS meteorologist. But that, combined with another pineapple express would certainly create threatening conditions.
Normal lake stage at Riffe is 765 feet, according to Tacoma Power officials. In winter, it is usually drawn down to 745 feet or less, and the level on Thursday was 695 feet. The lake reached 660 feet in 2001, a record low.
Although some of the town is visible in winter, evidence of the adjacent logging camps becomes clearer with lower water. Basic infrastructure of the Kosmos Timber Company and a sawmill of U.S. Plywood are still present. At its height, about 400 loggers produced 90 million board feet of lumber.
The temporary low water situation is a treat for history buffs and former residents of the town, who in recent years have held reunions in Glenoma and at the edge of the lake.
Notable landmarks include a concrete slab with adjacent symmetrically spaced grooves, marking where runners moved stacks of lumber during the drying process.
Residents also fondly remember the Kosmos Korner Store, the Palarose Cafe and the lokey shop, where steam locomotives were kept.
Tim Cooper had to leave the town when he was 9 years old and he remembers some going willingly and others having to be removed from the town.
For a kid my age it was pretty traumatic, Cooper said. I watched people get moved out that wouldnt sell. It was condemnation if you didnt sell … for the greater good supposedly.
Cooper said the town was on the ups when utility officials made the decision in 1964 to build the what is now the states tallest dam 20 feet higher, in effect creating 15 percent more retention.
Timber was king and things were moving, Cooper said. We had two grocery stores, a tavern and two gas stations.
Historical documents and newspaper clippings suggest the population was between 500 and 600 at the time of the towns demise — impressive even by todays standards for East Lewis County.
Thats especially notable considering its beginnings as a simple logging outpost, said 77-year-old Don Thayer, a former resident and onetime honorary mayor of the town. He remembers when it all started in the 1930s.
It was just made up of some boys during the Depression, Thayer said. We lived in a couple of bunk houses for about $20 per month. Hard to think of now, but we survived.
Thayer said the loss of the town has inspired amateur poetry and prayer writing through the years. He dug out a few from his archives on Friday night.
The Greek name of the town means universe, and more specifically, the world or universe as an embodiment of order and harmony.
One passage read by Thayer speaks to the worldly name, even amidst isolation, and how people in Kosmos saw the place then — and still.
You are forever with us in Rainey Valley, as the clouds move across the sky and the winds blow across the tall grasses … bring life to trees on the mountains and the flowers in the valleys and the people who once, and forever walk here.
Dan Schreiber covers county government and environmental issues for The Chronicle. He may be reached at 807-8239 or dschreiber@chronline.com.
