Cleaning Up

Washington Beach Clean-up, 4/26/08

1,200 volunteers picking up 21 tons of trash and marine debris. That is what Earth Day means to me. A tradition I started 6 years ago saw this year a change in organizational leadership. Jan Klippert who had started the Beach Clean-up 10 years ago passed the torch to Northwest Interpretive Association and the other partnering organizations. As he passed his leadership flame on his own flame died out. We gave our respects to the man and his mission as we made our way along the beaches searching the driftwood for debris.

This year I was again joined by familiar faces - Michael, Kristi, Diane and Randy. And we added some new ones too - Kyle, Amanda, Chris, Jenny and their two little girls. South Beach in the Olympic National Park was our territory as it had been for the past couple of years and we casually walked down the beach before working through the maze of driftwood back to our cars.

Amanda was the first to score garbage gold as she called for help to pull out a 4'X3' piece of styrofoam wedged between some logs. The rest of the morning was filled with ropes and plastic, more styrofoam, a couple of shoes, a Japanese float, tire, life jacket, and the ubiquitous crabpot. Little Briana & Kaylee really got into the fun and ran from piece of trash to the next as if in a race to find the most garbage.

The morning was cloudless and it seemed to warm up quite a bit as we made our way back up the beach, but it was a day worth spending with friends and family. Jan died just a month prior to this latest incarnation of his dream. But his spirit seemed to be with us as so many volunteers gathered to make our home planet just a little bit cleaner.

Hanging by a Rope

Frenchman's Coulee, 4/12/08

My friend Merry & I were headed to the Palouse for a little practice with the wildflowers. However, snow still encased most of the area so when the thought of stopping by Frenchman's Coulee to watch the rock-climbers we didn't have a second thought. I was amazed with the skill and dexterity of some of the climbers and had fun rattling off frame after frame as they danced their way up the face of the rocks. Kind of makes me want to learn a few rope skills myself.

One Last Waterfall

Palouse Falls, 3/26/08

It was cold this morning as Olympia & I drove out the old dirt road, winding our way between the ranches on our way to that perfect view of the Wallowas. I had spotted the view the day before as I was about to round the bend and drop back down in the valley. "This is it!" I said to Olympia ass the mountains came into full view. "This is where I want to watch the sunrise." And the reward was spectacular, the pinks lit up the snow still clinging to the slopes and sparkled on the clouds overhead. Then all too soon it was gone.

After exploring the surrounding area a bit, we packed up to head northward towards Walla Walla and Palouse Falls. I stopped in the town of Wallowa for a mocha breve made by a friend at the Blonde Strawberry Coffeeshop - worth the stop anytime of the year.


We reached Palouse Falls in the afternoon after driving through fields showing the first signs of spring and others still sleeping under the spell of winter. I had never seen Palouse Falls and was amazed at the size of this cascade in the heart of sagebrush country. But the view was magnificent as I stood high on the cliff overlooking the gorge that had taken centuries to carve through the volcanic rock.


At our feet stood the most raggedy yellow-bellied marmot I had ever seen, but also the bravest. His home was in the cracks and crevices over-looking the gorge. Just watching him jump around on the rocks made my stomach lurch. After a quiet and cold evening at the falls, Olympia made our way home to spend the rest of the week in relative warmth at home.

Uncharted Territory

Northeastern Oregon, 3/25/08

There's something about the prairie that both stills my heart and makes it ache in earning. I'm not sure when my fascination with the prairie started - was it a family road-trip as a child or that first night in eastern Wyoming where I first felt "home." I know, weird. I'm a western Washington girl - I grew up in one of the most abundant and beautiful areas of the nation. And yet the open prairie calls to me.

I see in the prairie. Looking across to the horizon I know there is a horizon there without the obstruction of trees. Sometimes I just feel claustrophobic in western Washington - smothered by the green. A trip east usually eases my pain, at least for a little while. I see in the prairie life as I don't see it in the ever green trees of western Washington. I began to ask myself why as I journeyed through eastern Oregon to the Wallowa Mountains and Zumwault Prairie.

The answer I found is that I can experience the life cycle of nature far more closely here in the vast openness of the prairie. Spring sets life in motion, the natural world feels young again. Summer brings in the ripeness of the earth, the preparation to to fulfill its destiny of re-creation. Fall of course is the harvest when all things prepare for the blanket of winter comes to insulate nature for the coming spring and rebirth. Here I feel the natural world at its most primal - as was intended from the beginning. Life happens and I see it in the prairie.

A Day of Waterfalls

Columbia River Gorge, 3/24/08

I took a drive back through time to visit a few of the waterfalls in the Columbia River Gorge. The Historic Columbia Highway runs through the gorge and back through time - to an era when Sunday drives meant something more than getting somewhere fast. It curves through the gorge along stone rails and bridges, parks meant for picnics, hills with vistas, and magnificent waterfalls. I set out on a leisurely pace like those who traveled this road years before.

My first stop was Sheppards Dell Falls - a falls that can be easily overlooked as it is tucked away in a little grotto, not easily seen by those accustomed to a faster paced life. It's a two-tiered waterfall dropping approximately 120 feet to the canyon below. Moss and ferns dripped from the rock wall lining the walkway a sign of the shadowy moist life in the gorge.

Next came Bridal Veil Falls cascading between moss encrusted boulders. The creek rumbled over rocks as the spring melt rushed towards the Columbia River. Anther trail takes the visitor along several viewpoints overlooking the Columbia River where the Portland can be seen far in the west and Bonneville dam to the east.

A short drive took me to Wahkeena Falls, falling 242 feet from the high cliffs then tumultuously tumbling downhill under a sweet little bridge. A short hike takes you to the base of the falls where the spray immediately cools you down from the exertion of climbing the hill. Another stone picturesque bridge awaits you here and beckons you to continue on.

I would recommend that you do continue for although the way is steep the beautiful little falls that awaits you a mile up the trail is well worth the effort. Fairy Falls cascades over a series of rocks in a horsetail reminiscent of waterfalls found on islands of paradise. There may not be a pool at the bottom to swim in, but I could easily imagine little sprite showering in the cool waters.

After that, Olympia was a bit weary so I made a quick stop at Multnomah Falls before continuing on to Horsetail Falls and camp to rest for the afternoon. That evening I drove back to Crown Point to watch the sun set over the Columbia River - a sunset deserving of a standing ovation.

Slicker than Snot

Latourell Falls, 2 miles, 3/23/08

Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Step, slip, glurp. Euw! Sometimes, thinking about the weather and location, and what they might all do to a trail would be a good thing to do before heading out on a short hike to see a waterfall in your jeans and sandals. I had let Olympia trot ahead of me as we climbed up the hill - all I needed was a tug the wrong way and to slip again and for the second time that day be covered in mud. Then again, as I looked down at my feet, I might have to do that anyway. Olympia, happy to be hiking splattered mud onto her legs, tail, belly, neck, and is that mud on her forehead? This better be a damn pretty waterfall.

I had tried to be careful as I trudged up the hill - stepping in what looked like solid patches of ground. But it didn't take much time before mud was squishing between my toes. To make matters worse, I would have to walk back down that muddy hill! Then the mileage I thought I read turned out to be twice as much and I wondered if my journey would ever end.

That's when I heard it - the unmistakable roar of a cascading river, thick with spring melt. Turn a corner and there it was, a beautiful horsetail falls dropping over 100 feet to the pool below. Olympia played in the creek as it flowed from the pool while snapped a few shots, playing with views and exposures. And then it was back down the muddy mess of a trail carefully stepping around the biggest mudholes. Although I could have gone barefoot, it would have been less mud grinding into the soles of my feet.

A quick trip to the bottom of Latourell Falls finished off our hike. One last word - the towel I had brought for Olympia on the trip was truly mudfilled and it was only the second day of our trip.

The Soggy Mess of Me

Fort Columbia, Spring Road Trip, 3/23/08

The rain was falling steadily as I broke camp at Cape Disappointment. I have many fond childhood memories of the Willapa Peninsula and the little town of Oysterville on the tip. Grandma lived in Oysterville and her grandchildren spent many a summer day running and laughing on the beaches that surround it. Every time I visit the area, I need to stop by Oysterville just to say hello to the familiar structures. The rain appeared to pelt the windshield as I pulled up next to the fence around the community center, but I still had to jump out for a few shots before heading out of town and toward the Columbia Gorge.

Just east of the Astoria Bridge stands the Fort Columbia State Park. As I had never explored the park and the rain had let up a bit, a stop seemed warranted. A walk down the hill to the battlements was a bit muddy and rain puddles the hallway through the cement structure. Quiet solitude greeted Olympia and I as our steps echoed off the cold grey walls. But the vision I saw looking down the hallway was spellbinding.

The door at the far end of the darkened hall was set in an eerie green-white wall reflected in the puddle on the floor. It was magnificent but I needed my tripod which I had left in my car. I hurriedly walked back to the car and on my return back down the hill . . . well one misstep tells it all. I was covered in mud. Mud oozed into my shoes. Mud dripped from my jeans. Mud caked into the creases of my hands. I tried my best to at least wipe off my hands on a clean spot on my sweater before continuing down to the battlements. I had to get that shot.

You tell me, if it was worth it . . . .

CHS - Rattlesnake Ledge

Rattlesnake Ledge, 4/5/08, 4 miles, 1200 elevation

This year, Michael and I decided to get serious about hiking. OK, several of you out there are laughing, but really, we want to go on further hikes so need to work on our stamina and endurance. Our needs were answered with a class offered by the Mountaineers - The Conditioning Hike Series. The class takes you from shorter distance and lower elevation gain hikes to some extended and Higher elevation hikes (I think one of the graduation hikes is 17 miles). What better way to get ourselves ready for an adventurous hiking season?

Our first hike was to a favorite old haunt - Rattlesnake Ledge off of I-90 in North Bend. We met our group in the parking lot for brief introductions before walking around the north end of the lake to the start of the trail up. Now, Michael and I are slow hikers - there's a reason we call ourselves Trail Turtles, so it wasn't much time before we lost sight of our fellow hikers as they quickly made their way through the lush green of a coastal forest. Never wanting to be left behind, I began to push my pace so I could keep up, only to feel the nausea swell in my throat as my heart pounded through my chest. A trip up Rattlesnake generally would never make me feel this way, but I was pushing myself too hard to keep up and had to stop to regain my breath and heart rate.

We again met up with the group where the snow still covered the trail and obscured the ferns that grew so thickly near the start of our journey. After stretching Yak-Trax over our boots, the way became a little less slippery and we made good time to the ledge. Clouds hung in the sky threatening rain but none fell on our little respite overlooking the partially drained lake. Our leader broke out some chocolate covered hazelnuts to share with the group as we sat sharing stories and views.

Our way back down the hill was paused as Michael whipped out his saw and helped to take a fallen tree out of the trail. I learned a bit on this hike. The biggest lesson learned that signing up for this class is the thing to get my rear in condition.

The Wet Beach

Cape Disappointment, Spring Road Trip, 3/22/08

Olympia & I arrived at Cape Disappointment State Park just as the clouds started covering the sky from the horizon. I had been hoping to catch the last rays of day on the North Head Lighthouse. Tonight, that would not be. So upon arriving at the park I searched first for a suitable campsite and prepared for the possible precipitation.

Finding the perfect tent site was a bit tough - the stakes refused to go into the ground in my original spot so I instead moved the tent in between some trees. I might also be able to get a little extra protection from rain tucked in the trees as I was. But the tent was up and it was time to explore the beach.

Olympia's second favorite substance to run in is sand and she pulled against her leash as we made our way through the driftwood and dune grass. The beach was almost empty, so I let Olympia go to allow her the joy of running along in the sand. We made our way to the north end of the beach just below the lighthouse before heading back to camp, quietly rounding out our day.

The rain held off until after we were nicely tucked away in the tent. Although after a night of rain the trees didn't offer too much protection, my original tent placement would have placed me right in the middle of a puddle.

Spring to Winter to Spring Again

Mt St Helens - Road Trip, Spring 2008, 3/23/08

Of all the times I have gone to Mt St Helens, stopping to walk along the lake trail at Silver Lake along the Mt St Helens highway seemed to be put off for another day. Since I had 9 days and a free schedule, why not make today the day to walk along the nature trail at the Silver Lake Visitor Center.

The sun filtered through the clouds as Olympia started out along the boardwalk leading out into the lake. Purple leaves of waterlilies were just beginning to spread out on the lake's surface, they will turn a yellow-green by the end of spring when the blooms speckle the lake. A few ducks drifted along beyond the rushes. Fishermen, too, drifted in their boat. Ever present was Mt St Helens on the horizon.

I was informed by the staff that the road was now open all the way to Coldwater. We drove back through the seasons our way up - from early spring and sprouting foliage around Silver Lake to winter and several feet of snow around Coldwater Lake. Olympia was thrilled to see the snow. She rooted and rolled in the snow, a smile stretching from ear to ear. Anyone who believes that dogs can't smile has never seen Olympia playing in the snow.

On the way back down the mountain, we stopped by the the Forest Learning Center to look down into the Toutle River Valley and the resident elk herd. I could see the elk, small tan ovals the size of grains of rice against the chartreuse lichen, far below. Olympia did her own type of seeing - with her nose. She pressed her nose firmly against the fence, nostrils wiggling, sniffing the breezes for a hint of just where these fantastic beasts were hiding.

Our day was far from over, but our adventure up Mt St Helens was over for today.