The wells were drilled in the Columbia floodplain in the 80′s, when unchecked logging and attendant erosion in the watershed had rendered Bull Run too turbid to draw all the way down, but they were soon discovered to be contaminated with industrial solvents, and several of them had to be abandoned, their use confined to the gravest emergencies.  Thankfully, logging in the watershed has since been strictly curtailed, greatly increasing the clarity and potability of Bull Run, but those skanky wells are now routinely tapped anyway, because our iconic snow-capped peak, well, isn’t snow-capped any more for a couple of months each year, and can no longer provide the city with its famously pure water without augmentation.

Out with the mud, in with the benzene, it seems.  Thank goodness they’re diluting it.  All of my life, I’ve treasured the glimpses I’ve had of Mt. Hood; so improbably white and yet so close even in summer heat waves, but the last eight years that I’ve been able to see it from my window each day have been a sobering blow, revealing an alien and almost lunar-looking gray peak each fall that stands in stark contrast to my childhood memories.  As the glaciers retreat, what, exactly, are we supposed to drink?