Giant Insulators

Sitting like a silent citadel surrounded by an ever-changing landscape, the Bonneville Power Administration (BPA) substation in Covington pumps out power ceaselessly day after day, year after year.

It has been a permanent fixture in Covington for as long as I can remember.  As a little kid, when trains plied the tracks next to the substation on a regular basis several times a day, I remember driving by the behemoth wondering what lurked inside.  The huge windows wherein you could see a monstrous crane, the myriad of cable, wire and steel pulsing with electricity, the helicopter that flew the skies  daily to check the status of the hundreds of miles of high tension wires, mammoth transformers sitting like giants in a pen of security, insulators bigger than a man that kept the electricity at bay like a lion tamer’s whip, a barbed wire fence surrounding the grounds with signs hung at varying intervals all gave indication of something massive, something intriguing, something dangerous and mysterious.  But there, day after day, calling to me, beckoning me to look inside sat the BPA substation. 

Then one day, I drove through the gate at the end of Wax road into the complex.  (Today that gate is sealed shut, blocked by huge blocks of concrete; no admittance.)  As a child, my parents took me on several tours of facilities to see how they worked.  The Rainier Beer Brewery, now gone.  The Sunny Jim Peanut Butter Factory, gone.  Weyerhaeuser sawmill, gone and many more.  So, here, in Covington, I wanted to tour something grand, something that had piqued my curiosity for years.  I drove to the front of the building and stepped inside. 

It was like stepping into an old monster movie.  Dials reading electrical output, wattage, amperage and other power related information.  Huge transformers, switches and machines.  Dazzling lights on display boards.  A room housing these items so vast it felt like you were inside a football stadium.  And, like every dam I’ve ever visited, a pristine environment housing it all.  A few workers sat around reading and monitoring machines and a man met me to talk.  I asked about taking a tour and he informed me that wasn’t possible.  I was disappointed.  I really wanted to learn more and see how this beast worked.  Electricity is fascinating and I wanted to ingest more information.  I left, still yearning for more. 

Today, those hopes are dashed due to the threat of terrorism and the like.  I don’t even think you can get into the complex anymore.  The gates are shut.  Access denied to non-employees. 

Yet, the substation continues to work, a vital link keeping Covington and many other cities running.  I wonder how much the inside of the substation has been updated with computers and other modern technology.  Does it still look “monstrous”?  Have they filled more of the open space with other instruments?  What has changed in the forty some years I’ve lived here?  If only I knew and had the power to change the forbidden zone of fascination into a learning experience.