This week the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area turns 30 years old, now a full three decades removed from the bitter fight that brought it to life.

For those who weren't around - or who have chosen to forget - lawmakers in Oregon and Washington fought for six years over legislation to approve a nearly 300,000-acre National Scenic Area in the gorge. It split officials on either side of the Columbia River, and drew fissures in local communities.

When the decision finally came in October, 1986, few people were happy. Skamania County officials, furious at federal involvement, flew their flags at half-mast. Conservationists, disappointed with the political compromise, popped $2 bottles of champagne. The Oregon delegation in the House of Representatives split bitterly after years of infighting.

The gorge was finally protected, but the costs to get there were high.

Early morning fog rolls in at Crown Point in the Columbia River Gorge in 1980.

GORGE IN DANGER

It all started in 1979, when a new group called the Columbia Gorge Coalition implored the U.S. Department of the Interior to do a study on the gorge as a possible candidate to become a National Scenic Area. The ensuing report led to a push from Multnomah County Executive Don Clark to protect the gorge, which he feared could soon fall prey to development.

"Unless we act with some deliberate speed, this could be the generation that lost the Columbia River Gorge. And that's a burden I don't want to bear," Clark said in 1981. "It's not viable to have it become an extension of the Portland suburbs."

His fears, and the fears of his supporters, were buoyed by the new Interstate 205 bridge and a proposed housing development directly across the river from Multnomah Falls. They warned of "creeping incrementalism," where several small developments add up to a "distressing whole."

At the time, the gorge wasn't marketed as a tourist destination, thriving primarily on agriculture. Federal protection meant a shift in the management of the land, and ultimately a shift in the local economy; that's what scared people most.

Lawmakers on both sides of the Columbia agreed that the gorge needed protection, but when it came time to decide who should be its protectors, they found themselves sharply divided.

POLITICAL THEATER

In 1982, two bills were introduced to Congress, each outlining a different plan to manage the gorge. One would establish the U.S. Forest Service as the "lead agency" on all management - the other would give ultimate power to a patchwork commission from local governments.

At public hearings held in Washington, D.C. and the Pacific Northwest, proponents promised that tourism would blossom, while opponents argued the federal government would cripple the economy. The public was divided. People who showed up to hearings with signs that read, "No federal control!" were equally matched by those in support.

The two bills died in Congress, but resurfaced as in 1983 as one bill. That bill died too, but came back as two bills in 1984. Those two went nowhere, and then split into three come 1986.

By then people on either side of the debate were growing weary. A full six hearings had come and gone with no results. The same question nagged lawmakers that had nagged them from the start.

"Nobody disagrees that the gorge is a beautiful and unique place," said Joe Wrabeck, executive director of Columbia Gorge United, a group against federal control. "It's a matter of who from and who by is the gorge going to be protected."

On Oct. 8, 1986, as Congress entered its final weeks before recess, the Senate passed a compromise bill that split management between the U.S. Forest Service and a local coalition. Republicans in the House of Representatives weren't sold, and two from Oregon - Reps. Bob and Denny Smith - fought tooth-and-nail to hold up passage.

Despite opposition, the House of Representatives passed a bill for the gorge too, this one slightly different from the law the Senate passed. The differences meant the bill had to pass the Senate again, where it still faced opposition in the dwindling days before recess.

Incredibly, on Oct. 17, it made it through - thanks to some sly political wrangling by Oregon Reps. Jim Weaver and Ron Wyden - on consent, without comment, without debate and without a recorded vote. President Ronald Reagan, who owed Oregon Sen. Bob Packwood a favor, signed it into law.

It wasn't pretty, but it worked. The gorge was protected.

ALL QUIET

There are still bitter political battles in the Columbia River Gorge today (the Nestle bottling plant chief among them), but by and large the fight over the federal designation has cooled considerably.

As it turns out, tourism really was a boon to local economies. More people are visiting the gorge than ever (just try to park at Eagle Creek or Dog Mountain on a busy summer weekend). Wind surfers, kite boarders, mountain bikers and hikers flock to the scenic area year-round. Craft breweries have cropped up in every small town on either side of the Columbia River.

Unemployment in the gorge has done as well and better than both state and national numbers, according to a 2012 study by the Oregon Office of Economic Analysis. That region has experienced "the mildest job loss of any region in Oregon" it said.

Fears about development and federal overreach in the gorge seem to have faded, but they'll live on in the National Scenic Area's history as one of the most contentious political land battles in recent memory. Just don't let those memories spoil the celebration.

--Jamie Hale | jhale@oregonian.com | @HaleJamesB