Pacific Northwest Day 10 - Olympic Peninsula

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

The new day found us rocketing off to new territory. Idaho.  “Done”.  (I should get back.)  Oregon? “Done.” (Ditto).  Olympic Peninsula? New terrain.

With clouds setting in and everything looking lush (the Olympics get a tremendous amount of rain annually), the first stop was little place not too far off of the Admiralty Inlet (which, in turn, feeds into the Strait of Juan de Fuca).  The birding was a bit less than exciting, so a course was set for the Dungeness Spit area.  With references to a Dungeness River AudubonCenter sounding inviting, it did not take long to learn the place was quite nice. 

Bob, the director, set us straight on the Western Gull, Glaucous-winged Gull, and their hybrid offspring (which would explain some of my troubles with gulls out there but that is a story for another time). He also suggested we beat it on down the road to Three Crabs Restaurant and then come back. No, not to eat.  The place is right on the Strait and the tide was coming in.  That creates a perfect situation for shorebirds.

Within minutes, we were sorting through Least and WesternSandpipers.  The Golden Plover was anAmerican, not a Pacific.  No doubts on the other plover – Black-bellied for sure.  Godwits would have been nice but there were none.  The harrier moving down the shoreline was certainly hunting, but nobody seemed too concerned. 

Back at The Audubon Center, the birding was amazing.  More Chestnut-backed Chickadees were nice, but the Bushtits, Western Tanager, Anna’s Hummingbird, breeding White-crownedSparrow, and Spotted Towhee made a great time.  Bob’s morning birdwalk had Black Swift and Dipper.   They did not cooperate for us.

It was at this point, I realized that the Red-breasted Sapsucker was proving to be a bit more difficult than expected.  Admittedly, I was expecting it to be one of the easier birds to secure for the trip.  It turned out to be the opposite.  Bob suggested a few locations for them but made it clear that it would take some work. 

Two locations turned out to be a bust for the sapsucker.  Along the old, dirt two-track (left) however,  the birding was still excellent.  Visuals on the Hutton’s Vireos (point blank range) were great.  Another MacGillvray’sWarbler? I'll take it.  The super prize of the walk was the Townsend’s Warbler. Very nice indeed.

It would have been nice to find a place to stay closer to Olympic National Park.  In Oregon, I made arrangements to stay in Port Townsend at Fort Worden State Park.  It was the only place that I could find that took reservations. I have been in situations where lodging is needed but not available. I was concerned about summer vacation season and all so I figured “Port Townsend it is!”  Well, at 45 minutes from the entrance to Olympic, some time was spent driving aaaallllll the way there, knowing I would have to drive aaaallll the way back. And then do it all over again because I made a two-night reservation!  Live and learn.

Oh, but all was not lost.  Port Townsend has beer!

The Port Townsend Brewing Company, much to my dismay, does not serve food. Outdoor patios and little concerts and such sound cool, but no food. They only have a tasting room.  However, they bottle and sell to local restaurants. 

The Fountain Café, tucked away in a little building from 1889 (most certainly, I would guess, in the original Port Townsend downtown) was great.  Their pasta with the Port Townsend beer made for an outstanding meal.  The Amber Ale (#1,072) was good. Nutty tones on the finish certainly complimented the style, but the body was   a bit weak. I was expecting something a tad thicker. I hesitate to say “watery”, but you know what I mean. The Scotch Ale (#1,073) was good too and very deceptive.  Basically, no alcohol tones were present. This is the sort of beer that can be dangerous. A dope could down a few and have no idea what they had done until they stand up……

A quick check a marina in town turned up nothing of note. I had been directed there with hopes of securing more Black Turnstones and hopefully some Surfbirds, but I had no such luck.  Nice evening, though!

The night’s sleep would have been better if the Barred Owl, firing off at 2:30am, had slept in a bit….

Pacific Northwest Day 9 - Hardly Disappointing

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The hostess at the RV camp seemed a bit confused when I asked where to have breakfast. I think she thinks I insulted her biscuits and gravy. I wasn’t.  I just absolutely refused to have breakfast at an RV park (I have my standards).  So, I upped the scale one notch and had waffles and eggs at Rod’s Bar and Grill.  They have a good breakfast. Really.

A good part of the morning was spent birding various roads and campgrounds east of Astoria (using that same reference from the day before).  Gnat Creek was nice, but light on birds.  I did see a slug the size of a hot dog. Damn.  Marsh Wren was nice at the Columbia River Bald Eagle platform.  Green Heron was neat, too.  More Crossbills.

As I was making my way through Astoria the final time, I smelled coffee. With my heightened sense of smell, I knew there was coffee in “that building right there”.  At exactly 10:10am, I was in there buying an absolute gem of a coffee mill.  I could smell it from the road! Not really. Anyway, it is from the Arcade Manufacturing Company.  It sports all original hardware, one imperfection and an intact label!  Nice find!  (As of this writing, I still don’t have it.  I left it at my sister’s house; she said she would ship it.  I did not have room for it on the plane. Rest assured, my nine faithful readers, I will post pictures and info at a later date.)

As I crossed the bridge from Astoria into Washington (after scoring 53 species in Oregon), I made my way to the southwesternmost corner of Washington.  My first priority was lunch.  After wasting time in line at a Subway behind a family that is clearly giving the Duggars a run for the money, I grabbed the sub “to go” and headed off to Cape Disappointment. 

Don’t let the name fool you here.  There is nothing disappointing about it.  In 1788, Captain John Meares named this place because he could not find the mouth of the Columbia River.  (Historic note – Lewis and Clark were the first to travel across the continent to see the Pacific Ocean.  The mouth of the Columbia had already been located by ships sailing the Pacific.  Lewis and Clark, in a sense, connected the dots between the East and the West.)

 

Pulling up a rock on the jetty, I ate.  More pelican parades (just like Fort Stevens in Oregon), except this time they were overhead.  The large, gray shorebirds on the rocks had me super-excited.  With fleeting glimpses, I was thinking “Surfbird”.  A clear view showed they (there were two) were actually Wandering Tattlers. Not a life bird, but a great bird!  (The photo above is the jetty as viewed from the Interpretive Center.)

The Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center is worth a stop.  With a back porch perched on a 200-foot cliff overlooking the rivermouth/ocean, the view is breathtaking.  Exhibits take you along with Lewis and Clark.  No, you are not eating dogs or dealing with fleas, but you certainly get a better feel for what they dealt with along the way. 

One impressive item in the collection, and on display, is an axe head used by Patrick Gass. He was one of the three sergeants under Lewis and Clark.  Historians are not sure it was actually used during the Corps’ “1804-1806 North American Tour”, but we know he owned it.  Can you imagine if he really used it on the journey?  There it is – right in front of you….

I think it is worth noting that Gass was not one of the original sergeants.  He was promoted after the others suggested it.  The position was made vacant upon the death of Charles Floyd in August of 1804 (just a few months into the journey).  Floyd was not killed by Indians. He did not drown.  He did not have a firearms accident (that was Lewis – he was accidentally shot in the butt by his own man).  Something else happened. Here is the scoop…

Lewis had undergone some medical training prior to the Corps’ departure.  In his boxes of gear, he had bottles of Dr. Rush’s Thunderclappers.  Everybody was dealing with significant bowel trouble, but Sergeant Floyd became especially sick with abdominal pains.  While everybody was feeling bad, poppin’ clappers, poopin’ up a storm, and still feeling horrible, Floyd’s pains disappeared and then returned (all the while still in digestive misery).

The fact that his stomach pains started, stopped, and then returned, only to worsen, suggests to medical historians that his appendix blew up.  The building pressure and pain was the initial infection.  The release from pain was the rupture while the recurrence of the pain was the massive abdominal infection which led to his death. 

So think about that the next time you go to the doctor and they make you mad.  Sure, the shot might hurt or the dental mouthwash may taste icky, but they have the advantage of 21st Century medicine even if it doesn’t feel good.  Having a sweaty, smelly, frontiersman with little medical training (but honest intent) shoving “magic pooping-pills” chock full of mercury(!) down your throat to quell an illness he does not understand sounds pretty damned awful to me.  Ahhhh, the good ‘ole days, right?  Keep in mind, too, that Floyd would have died no matter what.  A ruptured appendix was lethal for everybody in that time. The greatest doctors could not have saved him.

Floyd was the only member of the Corps to die during the trip.  He remains buried in Iowa.  

I snuck a peak at a Swainson’s Thrush before I began my casual drive back to Gig Harbor.  The drive up to and east of Aberdeen was quite eye-opening.  Zillions and zillions of acres of re-planted forests (after the original stuffed had been logged off).  By the time I arrived, it was dinner time.  Pizza and beer with a side of laundry! The only beer Becka had on hand was Corona.  Don’t fault her. It’s not fair. 

Pacific Northwest Day 8 - "Ocian In View! Oh! The Joy!"

Monday, August 8, 2011

I was hoping for a nice sunrise so I could dabble in photography but the clouds were relentless.   After a seafood omelet at the Pig N Pancake, I moseyed over to Fort Stevens State Park.

My first thought upon opening the car door was “This place smells like my breakfast!”  A few short walks to some little inlets were pleasant, but it was not until I stood on the observation deck at the base of the jetty when it really hit me..

As Captain William Clark said on November 7 1805, “Ocian in view! Oh! The joy!”  While he may have been a poor speller by modern standards, he certainly captured the moment for the both of us.  It was my eighth day of vacation but the first moment I really saw the Pacific Ocean (on this trip anyway). For those of you that are geographically impaired, Seattle, while on the water, is not on the Pacific.  It is located on Puget Sound. 

I could argue that the hour or so spent on that observation deck was one of the best single hours of the trip.  Crashing waves.  Sounds. Smells.  Everywhere I looked, I was finding birds I so rarely see.  Rhinoceros Auklet.  Parades of Brown Pelicans (joining the hundreds already on the beach).  Common Murre.   Heermann’s Gulls.  Brandt’s Cormorant.  Western Gull. 

Tootin’ around in the park turned up Pacific-slope Flycatcher (quite common actually), singing Pacific Wren, Bald Eagle , Lesser Yellowlegs, and quite possibly one of the angriest Golden-crowned Kinglets I have seen in almost 20 years of birding.  

After taking a few minutes to explore the wreck of the PeterIredale, a steel-hulled, wind-powered cargo vessel that wrecked on the coast in 1906, I opted to move along to the Lewis and Clark National Historic Park.  Like the Nez Perce Park, it is a series of units scattered about on both sides of the Columbia River mouth (Washington and Oregon).

The cornerstone unit, if you will, is Fort Clatsop.  After successfully reaching the Pacific Ocean in late 1805, the Corps voted on a location to spend the winter of 1805/06.  From their vantage point on the north shore of the Columbia River at a spot called Station Camp (present day Washington), they voted unanimously “This blows. Let’s go over there…” Ultimately, they established Fort Clatsop in present-day Oregon. 

The original fort, as you might expect, is long gone.  It was turned over by Lewis and Clark to the Clatsop Indians (whom they named it after). They apparently used it for a few years. It certainly fell into disrepair and was likely chopped up for firewood as it rotted out.    A replica fort, constructed in the 1950s on a site believed to be the original location, burned down in 2005.  By the end of 2006, Fort Clatsop 3.0 was accommodating visitors.

Interestingly enough, we can not say exactly what the Fort looked like.  The modern construction (as well as Clatsop 2.0) is based from a sketch in Clark’s journal (they were writing monsters during the entire journey).  It clearly shows a four-sided structure.    Some references in the journals of the other Corps members suggest that the Fort was actually a three-sided deal.  No references suggest that the original plans were altered.  So, if one were to poll a room-full of Lewis and Clark historians on the design of the fort, you would likely get different answers

Any way you look at it, it was a neat place and I am very happy I went there.  The opportunity to walk the very woods the Corps of Discovery walked was really quite inspirational. While the birds were a bit quiet, the smells and feel were as close as I can imagine.  They absolutely “one-upped me” on birds. They were the first to record a California Condor for science.  One was shot while it was partying on a whale.  I did not see a single Condor. 

A few minutes before lunch was spent securing lodging.  Cell phones signals for my carrier were basically zilcho but the nice woman at the gift shop let me use her personal phone outside to get campsites lined up for the three nights I would need them.  I would later regret this plan, but I’ll deal with that later….

Lunch was at the Wet Dog Café/Astoria Brewing Company.  The clam chowder was certainly good but that is not why I was there, of course.  The five beers in the sampler included Bitter Bitch IPA, DaBomb Blonde, Old Red’s Amber, Poop Deck Porter, and Volksweissen.  All where exceptional except for the Bitter Bitch; that was super-exceptional.  Visually.  Aromatically.  Palatably (is that a word?).  Damn good.  Life beers #1,061 -1,065 down the hatch.  I got a ball cap, too.

Using this wonderful page for Oregon birding as a reference, I spent the rest of my day birding the coast.  While I did not travel the same way the Corps did (I had a car, after all!), its allure was every bit as compelling. 

Locations along the route included Sunset Beach, Seaside Cove, Haystack Rock and Jetty County Park.  Seaside Cove was certainly worth a stop. Anytime you are along the a rocky coast in the Pacific Northwest in August and see black birds with a striking black-and-white pattern as they move from rock to rock, you should give them a second look. I certainly did. They turned out to Black Turnstones (life bird #647).  Watch those barnacle crusted rocks.  I gashed my knee brushing against one trying to get a better shot.

Jetty County Park was great, too.  Pigeon Guillimot and Marbled Murrelet were, of course, awesome.  Watching the young Peregrine try to take said Guillemot and Murrelet was pretty neat, too!  Certainly a youngster, that bird has a lot to learn. The Phalaropes along the far shoreline were just too far to name.  (I was told later they were probably Red-necked Phalaropes.)

The town of Cannon Beach was my stop for dinner.  As I was approaching Bills’ Tavern Brewhouse, a flock of Red Crossbills zipped over.  2x4 Stout, Asa’s Premium Blonde, Duck Dive Pale Ale, Foggy Notion Weissbier, Ragsdale Porter, and Rudy’s Red were sampled (#1,066-1,071). I scored all of the beers as average, but I did like one aspect of it.  I was able to do a side-by-side comparison of the stout and the porter.  A lot of beer snobs can’t really define what separates the two styles.  In this case, the stout was certainly darker, creamier, and with more alcohol tones than the porter, but that could just be the way it was brewed.  Interesting.

Lodging was at a tent site at an RV park.  Like Clark said, “Oh! The joy!”  Can you taste the sarcasm?

Pacific Northwest Day 7 - Vacant Ponds And Jumping Horses

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Just for kicks, I programmed my iPhone alarm to sound like a rooster.  At 0415, the damn thing went off. I was out the door at 0430.  Rocketing past Seattle just as the sun was brightening the horizon, I could not help but to be totally impressed with the Seattle skyline at night. What a cool lookin’ town!

By 7am, I was standing on a roadside in a place called the Samish Flats.  The region is completely different when compared to Gig Harbor. Forget pines and hills and such.  Agriculture. Farms. That was the norm here.

Despite the fog, I knew I was in the right spot when I spotted a few cars along the shoulder.  Pulling over, I joined the crowd (of two) and waited for the Wood Sandpiper. 

Outrageously similar to a Yellowlegs, this bird had been noted in this field on an on again/off again basis for just a few days.  A bird normally found in Asia, I thought it was worth a go.  It seemed a bit sketchy so far as I could tell on its reliability but it was seen late Saturday so I thought Sunday morning would be good. 

Unfortunately, it was a no-show.  Yes, folks, I spent 3 hours standing on the edge of a farm field in agricultural Washington looking for a bird that never showed.  Early on, I had a feeling we were sunk when the fog lifted slightly and the pond (seen in the distance in the photo at left) was empty. All reports stated that the bird was hanging out with Yellowlegs.  I had set 11:00am as the turn-around time and did not waiver (I had plans).  The distant pond in the photo is where the bird had been hanging out.  That said, I scored a couple of trip birds, including Savannah Sparrow and American Bittern.  

As a side note, one of the crowd was a fellow by the name of Gene. As it turns out, he is a spotter on the Monti Carlo, the boat used by the Westport Seabirds outfit.  I was scheduled for a pelagic on 13th.  I asked him for any suggestions.  “Hang on……”, he said with a smirk. Great……

The two hours to Auburn did not seem like a big deal.  Lunch was at The Rock Wood Fired Pizzas and Spirits.  One of those regional chain-brewery places, it fit my schedule nicely, so I gave it a go.  With a "Rock N Roll" theme and pretty good jams, the beer names reflected the music.    Jumpin Jack Black, Light My Fire Very Pale Low Cal Ale, Rock Steady Red, Sledge Hammer IPA, Suicide Blonde and Wild Thing Honey Wheat (#1,055-1,060) were on the sampler. The Sledge and Rock Steady were actually quite nice. 

As you might expect by just the name, the Light My Fire was a complete waste of time, effort, resources, and money.  Why ANY brewery would actually consider such tasteless drivel is beyond me.  It needs a new Rock N Roll name.  Using song titles from Queensryche, a progressive metal band from Seattle that was very popular in the late ‘80s and early 90’s, I would like to suggest any of the following – Warning, Damaged, One Foot In Hell, Man Down!, Spreading The Disease, or Broken.  Take your pick.  All apply.

From there, I was off to play photographer. When Rebecca is not helping moms and babies, she is show-jumping horses. Thinking her brother is a world –class photographer (hah!), she asked if I could take some pictures of her and her jumping class classmates at a horse show. Other photographers have been there (and where there), but they can charge an arm and a leg.  Realizing that A) it is a nice thing to do for my sister and B) I was paid up front with roundtrip airfare from Detroit to Seattle, it was easy to say “yes”. Besides, it gave me a chance to broaden my photography horizons.

I ‘m not exactly sure why, but many of my shots were a bit soft. Also, as any photographer can tell you, photographing someone wearing a white shirt as they move in front of a dark back ground can be trouble, too. The camera sees all the dark and automatically lightens the picture, causing the white shirt to over-expose or “burn out”.   Exposure compensation can help with that quite a bit.  But, add to that complication the idea that the clouds were constantly coming and going so the light was inconsistent all afternoon, and you have some trouble.  These first two pictures are Rebecca.

I found, too, that only a portion of what really matters is what I am doing. The biggest part of the photo is what the rider’s face looks like.  Crazy things can happen in the fraction of a second the shutter fires.  If the eyes are closed, forget it. The shot if ruined. If they look like they ate a bad pizza, forget it just the same.  But, add some concentration and determination with a bit lip and squinty eyes, and maybe you have something….

 

That said, of the 2.9 million pictures taken in 3 hours, a few turned out okay. Becka is happy, so I am too, I guess.

So, if you are a show jumper and need some photos, let me know. I would be glad to help……you find somebody a lot better than me…….

From Auburn, I bid farewell to my sister for a few days. While she went off to ice her butt, I parked my butt in my car, took an accidental lap around the race track,  and headed off to Oregon, my 44th life state but the third and final one for this trip.

After crossing the Columbia River (wow!), a Vaux’s Swift was my first Oregon bird.  It is, apparently, pronounced “vawks”, not  “voh”.  Call it what you will, they’re neat.  I suspect my first bird could have been something different if I had time to look. The road was the little two lane thing (US-30) on the edge of a cliff.  Watch the road or look for birds and die. Hmmmmmm….let me think about that one.

Lodging was pretty easy to secure in Astoria.