The Trojan nuclear reactor is being dismantled. Assploded, actually. And road trips will never be the same.
How well I remember the first time I laid shocked, awed eyes on this behemoth of nuclear arrogance; it had been raining steadily in Vancouver for three uninterrupted weeks, and my friends Christi and Ken and I had decided to take a wee road trip south for shopping and general recreating purposes.
I don't know what the rain in Spain was like, but the rain in Seattle was exactly the same as the rain in Vancouver, so we just kept driving. At a certain point about halfway to Depoe Bay, Oregon, Christi, gripping the wheel a little too hard and her teeth also, hissed out the side of her mouth, "I hope you two don't mind, but I'm just going to drive south until I see the sun."
We did not think it an opportune moment to wrest control of the steering wheel away from her, nor did we think hers a bad idea in the first place, so we just nodded and continued to passenge passively.
Somewhere south of Seattle and north of the Oregon state line, I saw something looming out of the mists. I know it's a cliche, but some things just loom; this did. At first I thought it was a low-flying plane, because I could see a blinking red light, but as we got closer I realized there were only other red lights, at vast distances from one another, and that they were attached to a structure. A tower. A huge, Orwellian example of nuclearchitecture that did, indeed, loom out of the lead-coloured mists like the solidification of a Greenpeacer's worst nightmare. We just kept driving.
It's not every day that I'm cowed by a building, but it was that day.
And never more:
In less than two weeks, history will be made when the cooling tower at the old Trojan power plant along the Columbia River is brought down.
I imagine there will be cheers. Unless they're a little sloppy, in which case there will be trouble.
The tower will come almost straight down, 150 feet off center, and far away from the radioactive spent fuel rods that are still stored at the site…
If you want to see the demolition, the best way to do that is from your own livingroom because there will be no public viewing spot. KATU News will be airing live coverage of the event on Sunday, May 21 starting at 6 a.m. The demolition is scheduled to take place at 7 a.m.
raincoaster 
Just wanted to say that I feel like ripping the testicles off of every man who says “blogroll”. psst. no one has ever cared.
If I were using AOL I wouldn't leave my real name either.
If everything goes as Portland General Electric and the Washington and Oregon state governments hope, the public will never see the tower collapse in person. My friends and I were trying to get up there Saturday night or Sunday morning to catch the explosion, but from what I can tell, law enforcement will have a 1.5 mile radius closed off. It's too bad. Demolitions are very powerful on the social imagination.
Relevant Link HERE
I edited your link to make the post narrower; otherwise it’s unchanged.
And if I read the article correctly, KATU Portland will be covering it live starting at six am. Most people experience most of their lives vicariously anyway, don’t they?
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