Monday, Sep. 08, 2008

Soap Lake: Slow down and take a soak

By Franny White, Herald staff writer

SOAP LAKE -- A warm, red glow colors the water of this small Grant County city's lake.

But this is no dramatic sunset you're picturing. It's the electric shine of a 50-foot lava lamp that local entrepreneurs have wanted to erect along Soap Lake's shores since 2002.

A mechanical version of the lamp -- donated in 2004 by Target after it was used as an oversized sign at its Times Square store in New York City -- still sits disassembled in storage. City officials have yet to decide how to display the unusual object.

Even in pieces, the lamp's creative vision seems to serve as a beacon that draws intrigued outsiders.

Soap Lake is an easy two-hour drive from the Tri-Cities. Take Highway 395 north to Mesa. Exit onto Highway 17 north, which will take you through Moses Lake then to your destination 20 minutes later.

Drive slowly through town once you arrive; unobservant eyes are likely to miss fascinating hints of Soap Lake's past. One example is the two-story red brick building on the northeast corner of Main Street East and Highway 17, known as Daisy Street in town.

Formerly one of Soap Lake's historic hotels, the Waltho, the old building now houses the Soap Lake Art Museum. Its hours are intermittent, but owner Brent Blake welcomes visitors when he's available.

The city of 1,848 once was a bustling destination resort with visitors crowding the shores of its namesake lake. They came for the reported curative powers of the two-mile-long lake, which holds high levels of as many as 23 minerals.

Soap Lake is at the end of a chain of Ice Age flood-carved lakes. Minerals from the lakes above have slowly seeped into Soap Lake and stayed because it has no southern outlet.

The mineral-heavy water sometimes is churned into a frothy substance during cold and windy weather, giving the lake its name.

The mineral contents of its water and mud also are said to cure, or at least offset the effects of everything from skin ailments to arthritis. The visitor center on the north side of town along Highway 17 has exhibits detailing Soap Lake's history. The center generally is open noon to 4 p.m. daily during the summer and on weekends during the rest of the year.

The center's volunteer coordinator, Denise Keegan, recalled how her uncle used to drink the salty, pungent water daily for good digestion. And a swim once cleared up Keegan's pink eye infection.

Before European settlers arrived, warring Indian tribes are said to have peacefully visited the lake's banks for rest.

The medical needs of veterans inflicted with Buerger's disease further defined the town in the early 20th century. Buerger's is a circulatory condition that causes severe pain in the extremities and sometimes requires amputation.

The disease was common in veterans, many of whom came to Soap Lake for relief. The McKay Memorial Hospital opened to serve those veterans in 1938. The facility is now a rehabilitative and respite care center on the city's Second Avenue Southwest.

But most of Soap Lake's old spas and sanitariums eventually fell into disrepair as tourism gradually declined, save for the Inn at Soap Lake. Built between 1913 and 1914, the inn at 226 Main Ave. East is full on most weekends.

But overall, fewer people visit Soap Lake today. Without a railroad spur or a grain elevator, Soap Lake's economy relies almost entirely on tourism. And the idea of promoting tourism led to the acquisition of the lava lamp.

Six years ago, Blake said he looked out his building's window and suddenly imagined a super-sized lava lamp in the middle of Main Avenue.

"It was strictly an epiphany," he said.

Many laughed when they heard plans to use a giant lamp to revitalize Soap Lake. Among the doubters was Bridget Ann Oie, who moved to Soap Lake as a teenager in 1970 and now runs a downtown business, Healing Water Spa, at 318 Main Ave. East.

"I thought it was a joke," Oie said. "But (now) I think it's the most brilliant idea."

Keegan agrees. Soap Lake always has been eclectic, she said, pointing to the town's small but dedicated arts community.

Photographers and painters come here and are inspired by the impressive rock formations left by the Ice Age floods, she said. They congregate in spaces such as Brent's gallery and the Masquer's Theater at 322 Main Ave. East.

The Masquer's is one of the state's oldest rural community theaters and has a regular schedule of local and visiting acts.

Locating a towering lava lamp in Soap Lake was just as zany as placing the Space Needle in Seattle, she said.

"I don't care what people think," Keegan said. "All I know (is that) they're talking about Soap Lake, so it can't be all bad."

But could Soap Lake's heritage become overshadowed by a glowing roadside attraction?

"There's a lot of gimmicks," Oie said. "But Soap Lake is not a gimmick. This is a real, live town."

It's also a changing town.

About five years ago a Korean man visited the lake and became fascinated by its healing history. He included Soap Lake in a Korean-language tour guide, prompting more Koreans to visit. Recently a Korean couple bought one of the city's aging motels and is in the process of remodeling it.

Russian and Ukrainian immigrants are also drawn to Soap Lake. Small numbers have lived around town for decades, but a rush of immigrants began coming in the 1990s, said Soap Lake resident Valentina Kozlov. Her mother-in-law, Nadezhda Kozlov, has owned and operated Mom's European Food & Deli at 241 Main Ave. East for a year.

"I keep asking myself 'Why Soap Lake?' " the 26-year-old Valentina said. "The reason is my mom moved here. They really liked the place. ... It was so peaceful and quiet."

Without knowing its history or its unique spirit, many also may wonder "Why Soap Lake?"

Maria Pertea of Vancouver, British Columbia, can tell you. Last month she and her brother-in-law sat in lawn chairs placed in the shallow lake's waters. She packed her knees with thick, dark clay and let the sun slowly dry up the thick, wet mixture.

"The water's so nice," she said. "I feel a lot better. That's why I came here."