Camp 18
G
The Cheeseburger is
robust and comes with
plenty of onions.
Though the food is predictable, the setting is singular
ordon Smith never dreamed of
opening a restaurant. The grand,
elemental and elegant hall he
erected at Camp 18 was intend-
ed to house a logging museum.
And for about a year in the early
1980s it did.
“We learned quick that a log-
ging museum wouldn’t make enough money to
pay the electric bill,´ said Smith, wearing a Àan-
nel shirt, well-worn jeans, work boots and a pair
of Camp 18 suspenders. “So we turned it into a
restaurant.”
Though the of¿cial logging museum is now
housed in a separate, much smaller building on
the compound, the entirety of Camp 18 remains
a paean to local timber. Dotting the property are
monolithic tools, big and small, some of which
may’ve helped build the place. There are carv-
ings, some 10 feet tall, of wildlife and even Smith
himself. Everything is unfathomably heavy.
The crown jewel, though, isn’t the equipment,
art, or the water-wheel out back — it’s the build-
ing itself. And while zooming by on U.S. High-
way 26, that majesty is obscured. Even standing
on the front porch can be deceptive. Only upon
yanking open the heaving doors does one realize
— the space almost magically expands, seeming-
ly doubling in size.
It’s reminiscent of a ski lodge. Long straight
logs ring the walls and peak at a high-ceilinged
roof. A majestic, taxidermied mountain lion
looms as antler chandeliers twinkle over cavern-
ous ¿replaces, hulking ironwork and raw, stun-
ning tables. All of it trembles, however, beneath
the building’s backbone, an 85-foot long ridge-
pole that weighs some 25 tons. And while not of
such distinct craftsmanship or ¿ne materials, the
meals at Camp 18 covet a similar scale.
The menus are like the plates: full. The fare
is mostly of American diners and red meat and
potatoes home cooking. Camp 18 prefers “log-
ger-style meals,” which about hits the nail on the
head. At the same time, Camp 18 also treats the
kitchen sort of like a saw mill, churning out meals
quickly, uniformly, and without regard for ¿ner
detail.
Offering both hot and cold sandwiches, I
tried both: a Corned Beef (hot), and a Clubhouse
(cold). On toasted rye, the Corned Beef ($10.50)
came with all the requisites (sauerkraut, Swiss
cheese and Thousand Island dressing), but the
14 | September 10, 2015 | coastweekend.com
acids outweighed the creams. The beef was thick
and juicy. With it came a salad I was dismayed
to pay an extra dollar for. It was mostly lettuce,
akin to ready-made, not-too-fresh, pre-mixed
salad-in-a-bag. (Besides clam chowder, the other
sides — fries, soup and potato salad — carry no
up-charge.) More disturbing were two thin slic-
es of ham that I uncovered deep in the bowl. (On
another trip I found no seemingly errant meats in
the salad.)
The Clubhouse ($11.95) was by the books,
and I enjoyed it more than the Corned Beef. The
bacon was salty against the sweet tomatoes and
mayonnaise, and the bread was ever-so-slightly
toasted, but still mostly soft. The slices were thin,
as if halved, and in a sandwich featuring three slices
plus ham and turkey, I appreciated not ¿lling up on
bread. (For those wanting more starch, the Club-
house came with a mountain of thick-cut fries.)
On another trip I tried the Cheeseburger
($9.95). It was served on a sesame seed bun and
A paean to local timber,
Camp 18’s exterior fea-
tures carvings of wildlife
and people.
offered but one surprise: that the tomato came
only upon speci¿c request. (An absurd pile of
onions were delivered no questions asked). It’s
dif¿cult to say with certainty, but the third-pound
patty seemed to been have formed by hand. It was
robust, fully-cooked, and there was nothing spe-
cial about it. It’s a burger you’ve had 100 times
before. It won’t wow you, nor let you down.
There are a few pockets of Camp 18’s dinner
menu that skew a little less predictably. They do
so not by innovating but by looking further back.
As one diner remarked to his companion, “Ooh
honey, they have Liver and Onions! You don’t see
that much anymore.” There are other outliers, like
an 18-ounce Porterhouse ($32.95) and Pan Fried
Razor Clams ($25.95). I went with the Pot Roast
mouth
OF THE COLUMBIA
COAST WEEKEND’S LOCAL RESTAURANT REVIEW
Story and photos by THE MOUTH OF THE COLUMBIA • mouth@coastweekend.com
Camp 18
Rating:
HOURS: 7 a.m. to 9 p.m.
PRICE: $$ – Entrées generally hover around $10 to $25.
SERVICE: Warm, family atmosphere
42362 U.S. Highway 26, Seaside
VEGETARIAN / VEGAN OPTIONS: Not recommended.
503-755-1818
DRINKS: Soda, tea, coffee, wine, beer, spirits (in up-
www.camp18restaurant.com
($18.95), which my server said was quite popular.
The thick slabs of chuck were ample and
lean. The meat was slow-cooked and mostly
tender enough to split without a knife. The dish,
with garlic mashed potatoes and vegetables,
was doused in beef gravy. It was salty, thick and
smooth. But the gravy was also a bit of a rouse,
masking the fact that the celery, carrots and onions
had not been cooked along with the beef. As an
afterthought, the veggies suffered.
Despite my crowing, I enjoyed my trips to
Camp 18 — not so much for the food but for the
environment Smith has created (which includes a
jovial family-type staff). One night before closing
we started chatting, and it’s clear he still delights
in the space. Smith’s eyes lit up as he talked about
the speci¿cs of the building’s creation and the his-
tory of timber in the region. He pointed behind
me, to one of the many old photos. It showed two
men standing on a saw blade that was dug into a
tree trunk. “That’s from 1915,” Smith said. “My
dad and my uncle.”
Indeed, Camp 18’s timber heritage is deeply
important to Smith — perhaps even more so than
the food it serves. Nonetheless, he’s succeeded in
creating that logging museum after all — it just
happens to have an oversized cafeteria.
stairs lounge)
KEY TO RATINGS
poor
below average
good & worth returning
excellent
outstanding, the best in the
Columbia-Pacific region
