Over the many years that I can remember traveling over America’s roads, I have seen a lot of things beside them that have attracted my attention.  This runs the gamut from solemn monuments to silly things like Harvey to the hilarious of those few poor souls that just cannot make it far enough off of the road to not be seen taking a badly needed whiz.  However, I don’t think that I have ever seen a town display something quite like what I have for today’s K-POD.

I was on the last leg of my tour of the greater Olympia, Washington area and heading up Washington State Route 3 into the very nice little town of Shelton.  Upon approaching the city from a hill that overlooks it, I saw this giant wheel and, at the last moment, realized that there was a little pull-out from the road so it could be viewed more closely.  As it turns out, this is an amazing piece of historic machinery.

The “Big Wheel” is left over from the days when the timber industry ruled the Pacific Northwest.  It was originally used elsewhere to saw spruce logs used in airplanes built to fight World War I.  It came to Shelton in 1926 and remained in use until 1967.  It is one of the largest saw wheels ever built at 11 feet in diameter (approximately 3.35 meters).  During its time of use in Shelton, it sawed through three billion board feet of lumber which is enough to house over one million people.

While the timber industry is still important in the Shelton area, it is certainly not to the extent of days past when things like the Big Wheel were needed to slice up the huge trees left in the old growth forests before the remainder were set aside for preservation.  Yet, Shelton has made sure that this part of its past is not forgotten.  While we all know better now about the logging practices of the past, there is still nothing wrong with being proud of their once mighty sawmills and how they helped to build this country.

The Big Wheel may no longer turn but it still serves a great purpose as it greets residents and visitors alike with a message of, “I got your attention, didn’t I?  Now look at that nice little town down there!  This is where it came from.  Now, come on down the hill and see what we’re up to today!”

The Big Wheel in Shelton, Washington USA - Copyright © 2010 by KoHoSo

Back in the old days of the United States of America before so much of it became an over-regulated, cookie-cutter mish-mosh of blandness, there was a time when giants ruled the land.  Big cars rolled across the landscape and, very often, the signs designed to attract travelers desirous of food, entertainment, sleep, and other services were just as outlandishly huge.

Of course, not all of those things of the past were bad to leave behind.  As certain cities and towns grew, signage became so big and overdone that it eliminated the real personality a place had and blocked the view of any of its surrounding natural beauty.  The country also got to a point where some of the old ways of attracting business became passé and downright un-cool.

During the rise of the Interstate Highway System and McDonald’s, many of the old giants of the past began to be sent to the scrap heap.  These included beautiful neon signs, Sinclair Dino dinosaurs, juice stands shaped like oranges, motels shaped like big tee-pees, and — perhaps most famous and prevalent of all — the plethora of Muffler Men and their various offshoots that once dominated many a roadside.

Thankfully, not all of these giants have been lost.  With a wave of nostalgia that has it roots in when the last section of US Route 66 was finally decommissioned in 1984…well, some people began to realize some of the memories and fun that had been lost.  Later, with the advent of the commercialization of the Internet, more and more people began to seek out information on the old roadside attractions of the past and, better yet, started organizing to preserve many of them.

In other cases, some businesses refused to yield to modernity.  Their giant sign or cheesy mascot was going to stay and that was that.  They would not make the mistake of designing a new logo or trying to reformulate themselves in any way.  That is what I have here for today’s K-POD.

Harvey Marine is a business located in Aloha, Oregon (pronounced AL-o-wa) which is a western suburb of Portland.  Placed right up on the edge of what is known locally as the “TV Highway” (short for Tualatin Valley), it has been serving boaters of the area for many decades.

Whether one likes to boat upon the local waters or not, Harvey Marine is a local favorite and even nationally known — not just because of it service or prices but because of its appropriately-named giant mascot who’s toes almost touch the road itself.

This particular animal might seem like a strange choice to many.  After all, when thinking of boating, one usually conjures up images of fish, frogs, and birds.  However, for those that like and/or remember classic movies of the past, it doesn’t take long to find out that Harvey is extremely appropriate.

I like that Harvey sits in front of the US flag especially as this photo was taken earlier today on Independence Day.  It’s a weird but nice reminder that this country was founded on individuality and that not everybody has to be “extreme,” live in a cookie-cutter existence, or morph their company into a name and logo that means absolutely nothing…as I still await an answer as to exactly what a Verizon is.

So…on America’s birthday, I salute Harvey and all like him.  May Harvey and all of his fellow giants continue to stand proud while simultaneously sticking it to the man by pissing off yuppies on local planning commissions.

Harvey Marine in Aloha, Oregon on July 4, 2010 - Copyright © 2010 by KoHoSo

Interstate 5, one of the United States’ great border-to-border superhighways, is definitely a road of extreme contrasts.  From its southern starting point in San Ysidro (a suburb of San Diego) up to where I spent last night in Redding, it is almost universally despised.  Coming from the south, it runs through the counties of San Diego, Orange, and Los Angeles and gives one only brief respites from views of poorly-planned suburban sprawl or urban decay…not to mention traffic that can be excruciating to deal with even late at night.

From there, I-5 goes across the Tejon Pass in a stretch also known as “The Grapevine.”  This is where, on steep grades, many drivers either become so frightened that they cannot bring themselves to touch their gas pedals or, on the other side of the coin, want to relive their own version of The Grapevine’s mention in the great old song, Hot Rod Lincoln.

Once down from The Grapevine, one is met with the wide expanse of the Central Valley, the main part of the Golden State that people are referring to when they say that California feeds the world.  Unfortunately, feeding the world is very boring visually as — for reasons still unknown to me — I-5 was plotted along the far western edge of most of the Central Valley instead of using the old US Route 99 route through big cities such as Bakersfield, Fresno, and Modesto.  Thus, with only the quick touches I-5 makes on the western edges of Stockton and Sacramento, there’s a whole lot of nothing to look at for mile after excruciating mile.

Thankfully, this changes just after one pulls out of Redding.  Some might not like the sharper turns and steeper grades than those found on most other Interstates (as compromises to the general rules for the superhighways had to be made to get the road through such rough terrain), but the views are simply amazing and well worth some occasional white-knuckle driving.  While I am usually never one to recommend traveling by the Interstate Highway System as so much of it is surrounded by such blandness and hardly any locally-based businesses, I-5 from Redding up until the next big metropolis, Portland, Oregon, is a joy to behold and probably one of the five best stretches of Interstate in the country.

Upon leaving Redding, it does not take long to be surrounded by beautiful pine forests.  Then, at one point after traversing a turn in the highway, one is confronted with a full and powerful view of the area’s major landmark, Mount Shasta.  It’s almost as if the builders of the road intentionally designed this sudden unveiling of Mount Shasta not only as a visual delight, but also as a statement on behalf of the mountain as a reminder that it is a force to be reckoned with whether one tries to climb it, deal with the weather it helps to generate, or dare to live in its volcanic shadow.

Not far beyond the “debut” of the mountain when approaching it on I-5 from the south, there is a “vista point” where one can pull off of the Interstate to take pictures or just soak in the view.  Even at 8:10 a.m., the parking spots were almost all full and even truckers were stopping to at least take a quick shot with their cell phone cameras.

It is this kind of view that would make me almost want to stay in California if things were better in the state with the economy and government.  Sadly, Redding and points north are not exactly economic powerhouses even in good times.  On the other hand, Mount Shasta has a lot of brothers and sisters to the north.  As I write this, I sit in the shadow of Mount Hood and within relative shouting distance of Mount Saint Helens.  Sometime in the next few days, I will be up to visit the area dominated by Mount Rainier.  There is also a chance that I might end up back in Denver where Mount Evans dominates the western skyline with all of its own tight family of other peaks.

While I had left this morning thinking that I would end up making today’s K-POD something from one of the new places in which I hope to plant myself for the remainder of my life, perhaps it was more appropriate that my best photo of the day ended up being Mount Shasta and I saying goodbye to one another.  We used to have dreams and plans…to live there in a cabin and spend the warm months on the waters of Shasta Lake in a pontoon boat.  But, alas, as with many potential romances, the timing was never right for us and, now, other circumstances have driven us apart.  Still, I can leave knowing that Mount Shasta’s beauty will remain for thousands if not millions of years to come and that there will be many more loves in its life long after I am gone and forgotten.

Yep…I’m pretty happy with this.  It’s a good ending to a story that was not always so good.

Mount Shasta on July 2, 2010 - Copyright © 2010 by KoHoSo