Old and new mingle in Kettle Falls

If it wasn’t for the amusing welcome sign, you might not take notice of Kettle Falls. It reads: “1,550 friendly people and one grouch.”

The “grouch” is a clever yearly fund-raiser for the chamber of commerce. You can cast as many votes as you like for your favorite local grouch, at 25 cents a vote.

The town’s sign also boasts: “Home of 1992 Miss America.” (That would be former resident Carolyn Sapp.)

What the sign doesn’t tell you is how old and new co-exist here in an interesting way. It’s a place where tradition and contemporary can intermingle. In the fall, for example, you can celebrate a morning of turkey hunting with an afternoon lunch of tofu.

For us, it’s a place of simple offerings – gas, grub and a good night’s sleep – all things we have grown to appreciate the more we travel on business. But on this trip, we planned to take a cool country drive to search out a bit of history and nature before we tucked ourselves in for the night.

On the way to Kettle Falls, I spotted a “U-pick” sign beside a patch of bright orange pumpkins. Harvest is here already; only a few more warm days left.

We had just driven through the busier strip-mall traffic of west Colville on U.S. Highway 395 and were now passing through quieter agricultural communities. A few newly plowed fields showed off the rich, dark earth of the region. Wheat, ranching and logging reign here.

Before white settlers came, the Kettle Falls area was the second largest fishery on the Columbia River for native people. The actual Kettle Falls where tribes gathered to fish, trade and socialize is now beneath Lake Roosevelt, formed by the Grand Coulee Dam.

A marker along State Route 25 shows where the falls once roared. The site of the original Kettle Falls town was also inundated by the dam, forcing folks to move or destroy buildings before they were flooded.

John pulled into the parking lot of the Kettle Falls Inn and waited outside while I went in to get a room. The desk attendant greeted me with a smile that let me know he recognized my face. We had been staying there once a month for nearly a year now. It’s the closest place to the water monitor site that John services, which makes for a short morning commute.

Like the town, the hotel blends old and new. The guest rooms combine retro ‘70s furniture with the practical conveniences of a mini-microwave and small fridge.

This is also a hotel where you can still get a 15-minute massage for a quarter with the Magic Fingers Bed Relaxation System. Our former dog Clifford, may he rest in peace, was not fond of this vintage hotel amenity, so I decided to not even test it out on our current pooch, Kah-less.

After we emptied our car of luggage, we followed Juniper Street across a residential neighborhood and past golden meadows to find the historic site of a gristmill, first built by The Hudsons Bay Company around 1826. Nearby, the company had established Fort Colville a year earlier.

The gristmill is one of several structures built in the area to support the operation of the fort. A 16-foot replica of the mill’s water wheel, constructed by a shop class from Kettle Falls High School, is displayed at this historic site along with several weathered interpretive signs.

Kah-less led John from the leash down a short path to an overlook of Meyer’s Falls on the Colville River. In the shadow of a forested cliff, a small waterfall cascaded over moss-covered stone. The moving water didn’t disturb the blue sky and bright white clouds reflected in pool below.

A pair of herons flew high above our heads. One of them landed beside the waterfall, the other in the high branches of an evergreen. As the sun began to drop behind hills and trees of Colville National Forest, we headed back to the hotel.

The following day we made a point of stopping at Meyer’s Falls Market, an organic grocery, bakery and deli, as we passed back through Kettle Falls before moving on to other work sites. John trusted me to choose lunch while he checked out the sporting goods equipment also located in this small, quaint shopping center.

The lady at the food counter offered to heat up the feta ball I selected. This menu item was kind of a pizza in orb form. (By the way, this is also the tofu place.)

Baklava was a sweet but brief finish to our midday meal and to our visit to Kettle Falls. Until next month, we had to say goodbye to the “1,550 friendly people” and their “grouch.”