The Dam - A River Ran Through It

Under Eau Galle Lake lies a riverbed. And memories. As kids we swam at “Dynamite Hole”, then “First Rocks” and finally “Second Rocks” in that riverbed. We roamed through the river’s bottomlands north of Spring Valley, a landscape of riverbanks, trees, brush, grass and some fields. It was a hinterland populated with deer, trout, pheasants and all manner of wild animal, a land mostly without houses, a landscape for fishing, swimming, camping, hiking and just hanging out.

When I was five or six years old, dynamite hole was the swimming hole for families on a hot summer evening. It was up river north of town maybe half a mile, and easy to drive to. I was a slim kid. I recall perching on a rock as I shivered in the summer evening air and watched the adults cool off from the day’s heat in the river pool. Adults then were slim by our measure today, but they had enough adult body fat to make them comfortable – I didn’t. That certainly is not a problem today!

The road past the dynamite hole was actually a very long driveway, an extension of Foote Avenue that terminated at the Lamb farm. Their house was located about where the picnic area Ramada and restrooms are today. About halfway to their place, there was a small shed housing a bubbling artesian spring in the side of the hill. When I was older, we kids would generally stop there for a clear cold refreshing drink on our way to and from the swimming hole on a hot summer day.

That spring was located lakeside of the west anchor of the dam today. The Corps. of Engineers had difficulty capping that spring off when they constructed the dam. They had to go all the way down to bedrock, and then some, so I was told. In fact, springs in general turned out to be a challenge for the construction of the dam.

As I grew older, we moved the swimming hole of choice further upstream to “First Rocks”. The river’s course took it along the bluff just east of Lamb’s farm. The path from the picnic area to the swimming beach passes over that bluff today. “First Rocks” is down there under water snuggled up against the bluff. As you can probably guess if you have been there, not a lot of sun got to us swimmers down there. We did have a sand beach, but it was about six feet wide before it turned into thickets. Between the thickets on the east bank, and the bluff on the west, it was never very sunny. We did have a good ledge or two to dive from, however.

Later still, we moved the hole of choice yet further upstream to “Second Rocks”. This was not rocky at all. I guess it was named in honor of the retired “First Rocks”. The new hole was much sunnier, however, and that was important to teenagers for tanning purposes. And the pool was much larger, with a good dirt embankment to dive from. We would sometimes build a rock dam in the rapids below the hole to raise the water level. Great fun.

Oh, ya, “Second Rocks” is located just out beyond the buoy markers for the current beach swimming area. We used the same path then that is used today to get from the picnic area to the swimming area. The river’s course (upstream direction) curved out from the north end of the bluff, about where the current swimming area starts, and meandered east across the valley.

I’ve seen somewhere a proposal to name the lake after George Wentland(t). George spent a lot of time up there, fishing, hunting, swimming and sharing his wealth of outdoor knowledge with us. He must certainly be there in spirit.

The guys would sometimes go “skinny dipping”, and someone had to sound the alarm to suit up if girls were detected coming over the bluff trail. The time frame was critical, because once a person crested the bluff trail, it was downhill from there with a pretty good birds-eye view of the swimming hole.

There is one sad recollection connected with “Second Rocks”. Floyd White, a friend and upperclassman, was discovered one day at the bottom of the swimming hole. He had apparently been swimming by himself and had hit his head while diving. That, perhaps amazingly, was the only tragedy at our three swimming holes in the Eau Galle River while I was growing up in Spring Valley.

The east end of the dam is anchored in the old village garbage dump. I think the “morning glory” inlet is about where we used to do target practice on the dump rats with our .22 caliber rifles. The river flowed along the west side of the valley there, right past the dump. Yes, I know, I know – the dump was upstream of the village. We were not very environmentally conscious in those days.

That reminds me – in the forties there was still an icehouse just at the north bridge (below the dump). Ice was cut from the river in the winter and stored there in sawdust to insulate it. That way ice was available during the summer. I never thought about it until just now, but one has to wonder what part was water and what part was dump drainage! I guess most of us survived nevertheless.

Highway NN used to continue from the “ice house” bridge in Spring Valley north over a small rise, past the dump, past Anderson’s farm to where the Lousy Creek access ends up in the water today. Anderson’s had a trout filled spring fed pond. Huge trout. The farm, pond and trout were located north up the coast from the East Overlook. There was no road going up the hill in those days, just a path to the “Red Barn”, a great hangout with rafters to jump from, and full of bailed hay to land in.

I first heard about the dam in the forties. It was proposed after the big flood. I grew up hearing about it. After a few years and no action, the feeling on the street was that it was not really going to happen. I was really surprised when construction actually began.

My Dad, Rex, owned the Skelly Oil Company franchise at that time. His was one of the local businesses that the Corp. of Engineers depended on for supplies – in his case fuel. He got a call one cold winter night that the generators that were used to heat the concrete work needed fuel. He loaded his tanker truck and wended his way through the snow and cold up to the west end of the construction site (where the access road today goes down to the top of the dam).

Now the engineers had scraped the land down to bedrock well below the valley floor, and were busy around the clock laying the foundation for the dam. It was a long way down there, and steep for a fuel truck. Rex told them that if he backed down there he would never be able to get out again. The engineers said not to worry about it – they would handle it.

He backed down the steep slope and delivered the fuel. The engineers then hooked his truck to a big caterpillar tractor and proceeded to pull him back up to the top of the hill without effort. I could tell from the way he told it that he was impressed. I would like to have seen it myself.

Once the dam was finished, Spring Valley’s “Farmers’ Day” celebration was replaced with “Dam Days”. The dam came along just in the nick of time, I think. Spring Valley’s role as the shopping center for the surrounding farm community was fading into the role of a sleepy bedroom community as people were able to access the large metropolitan areas more easily.

The old celebration used to be quite a deal, but life is a tradeoff. The dam is a good addition to the valley. On net, it is an improvement. I wouldn’t go back to the old celebration or the old river bottoms. Still, while something was gained, something was lost.

Russell Pence

The Spring Valley Kid

pence@asu.edu