Can lava lamp light the way to Soap Lake's resurgence?

In the eyes of Soap Lake's boosters, a warm, red glow colors the water of this small town's lake.

It's not a dramatic sunset they're picturing. It's the electric shine of a 50-foot-tall lava lamp that local entrepreneurs have wanted to erect along the shores of Soap Lake in Central Washington 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. Soap Lake 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.

Drive slowly through town once you arrive to get a glimpse of Soap Lake's past.

Take a look at 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, called the Waltho, the old building now houses the Soap Lake Art Museum. Its hours are intermittent, but owner (and lava-lamp booster) Brent Blake welcomes visitors when he's available.

This city of 1,848 once was a bustling destination resort with visitors crowding the shores of the lake. They came for the reported curative powers of the two-mile-long Soap Lake (from which the town takes its name). The lake holds high levels of as many as 23 minerals, and its water and mud are said to cure, or at least offset, the effects of everything from skin ailments to arthritis.

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 become concentrated 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 town has a visitor center on its north end on Highway 17 with exhibits detailing Soap Lake's history. The center generally is open noon-4 p.m. daily during the summer and on weekends during the rest of the year.

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

Many early 20th-century war veterans came to Soap Lake for treatment of circulatory disorders and other diseases. 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 from 1913 to 1914, the inn at 226 Main Ave. E. is full on most weekends.

With few economic resources — no railroad spur or grain elevator, unlike many Central and Eastern Washington towns — 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. E.

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

Soap Lake always has been eclectic, with a small but dedicated arts community.

Photographers and painters come here and are inspired by the massive rock formations left by the Ice Age floods. They congregate in spaces such as Brent's gallery and the Masquer's Theater at 322 Main Ave. E. 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, said Denise Keegan, the visitor center's volunteer coordinator. "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 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, a visitor from Vancouver, B.C., 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."