Mysterious Island

Day 12: Lake Kapowsin is shallow. Its maximum depth is roughly 30', and it is a veritable minefield of subsurface stumps due to the geologic process which formed it. When the Electron Mudflow surged down the Puyallup Valley approximately 500 years ago, it blocked the outlet to Ohop Creek and caused the water to back up in the basin we now know as the lake. The stumps are the remains of the drowned forest, and are a significant hazard for boaters, even one moving slower than usual in her kayak. One high spot of terrain remains as a 30-acre island on the northeast side. Most of the island is very brushy with salal and other shrubs, but a few open areas are considered "party spots" and are used occasionally as illegal campsites. A few pockets are so densely canopied that little light reaches the forest floor, a factor which led me to explore there for lichens and fungi. I found no unusual species, although there was a notable abundance of Evernia on the few Doug firs growing among the cedars.

Port Of Call

Day 11: It would have been criminal to waste a day of glorious, golden October weather, so as soon as the nip was out of the morning air, I headed for Lake Kapowsin with no purpose in mind other than to paddle until my arms got tired. Of course, I'm ever vigilant for invasive plants, but other than the occasional blackberry vine, I found none. However, an encounter with a Nutria at the neck of the "inside passage" behind the island left us both feeling quite surprised. This was the first time I have ever seen one in the wild, and unfortunately, I was unable to get a photo before it slipped off the log where it had been resting. I got a good view of the hindquarters and rat-like tail. Nutria were farmed for their fur in Washington many years ago, and when the practice proved cost-prohibitive (the guard hairs are difficult to remove from the desirable portion of the pelt), many of the farms simply turned their animals loose. Now I know to watch for them when I'm on Kapowsin.

Spiny-Ray Day

Day 308: Today, ladies and gentlemen, my goal was to find out if the south end of Lake Kapowsin was as fishy as I've always suspected it would be. The fact that I had to get there by kayak made it even better, although Kapowsin is known for its multitudinous "mines," stumps which hide under mere inches of dark water, making the lake difficult to navigate even under paddle power. I got stuck once, briefly, and grazed several others. That said, fortune favours the bold, and when I reached the weedy shallows and lily pads, a few trial casts brought this nice-sized bluegill to the hook. It turned out to be the biggest of nine "sunfish" (that's what we called them when I was a kid). As a bonus, the lake served up an additional two perch, four smallmouth bass and one largemouth. It was a Spiny-Ray Day for sure, with a seven-mile paddle thrown in. Now that's the kind of day you can say getting out of bed was worth it!

A Jaunt With A Friend

Day 341: For the most part, active sports are something I do solo: backpacking, bicycling and now kayaking. Today was an exception. My geocaching partner Dan had yet to pick up the cache on the island in Lake Kapowsin and I was ready for another paddle. I suggested that we do a grand tour of the lake together, and he agreed. We met at the boat ramp at ten and immediately set off to explore the south end of the lake which I had yet to see. I was expecting it to be full of stumps and indeed there were plenty, although not nearly as many as I'd guessed. Water level was up about half a foot following the week's heavy rain which gave us some additional clearance. Even so, I managed to tag one but at least this time, I didn't get stuck.

Partway back, we cruised into a small cove to check out an odd structure which at first I thought was made of concrete. As we came closer, it was revealed as a bad camo paint job on a plywood box about eight feet tall, eight feet wide across the front and four feet deep. There was a strange figure of some sort perched on one upper corner which at first we took for a plastic owl, and we assumed that the "clubhouse" was a duck blind of some sort until discovering that it had no peepholes in it or slots for rifle barrels. Weirder yet, the "owl" turned out to be the head of a female mannequin staring out across the water, hair and complexion obviously much the worse for weather. There appeared to be a rough trail leading down the steep embankment to it, but no evidence of recent use. Nevertheless, the overall effect was creepy and unsettling even to me, and I'm normally unmoved by such things. The Lady of the Lake's eyes followed us as we paddled somewhat hastily away.

Next, we put in on the island so Dan could find the cache, explored a bit, and then sat on the "inside" shore to have our lunch. Primary goals accomplished, we finished up the day by navigating the stump minefield to the north end of the lake and then back to the boat ramp. We were out four hours and covered 5.25 miles.

Lake Kapowsin Paddle

 
Day 325: I was really weighing the weather before setting off on a paddle across Lake Kapowsin, but when it seemed to be brightening here at home, I threw the 'yak on the car and headed out with intent to find the geocache on the island. I'm finding my interest in geocaching is a little stronger if it gives me an excuse for my new sport, although I'm not at all excited about "getting my numbers up" with a series of guardrail micros. With over 4000 finds, I'm pretty bored with those. Tempt me with some exercise like a paddle or a hike!

The cache was the real goal today, and the shortest land route to it was from the back side of the island. Kapowsin is a maze of stumps and snags, and navigating between them was further hampered by the darkness of the water and overcast skies. At best, visibility into the water was only a few inches. Once around the south end of the island, I found myself in fairly shallow water in the "inside passage." I put into port at a campsite approximately 200 feet from Ground Zero and simply followed a trail through the salal to reach the spot. There was a tent set up nearby, but I did not see any occupants, and found the cache easily.

My goal accomplished, I then set out to explore the shallow eastern lobe of the lake. Perhaps I was going a bit faster than I should have been, given the opacity of the water, but I suddenly felt a bump and heard a scrape and when forward motion ceased, I realized I'd grounded myself on a submerged stump. I back-paddled and went absolutely nowhere. Strong forward strokes didn't move me an inch ahead. Efforts to turn left or right resulted in spinning 'round and 'round like the propellor on a beanie, my fat bum in the boat the pivot point of futility. I laughed at the predicament I'd got myself in, but another corner of my mind was occupied with the possible permanence of the arrangement. Finally, a series of a dozen or so seated "butt-hops" skootched the 'yak free. Without knowing the depth of the water, the thought of having to get out and push was not a comforting one! But all's well that ends well, and about that time, the wind came up and the sky darkened, so I made for home port, tagging a few more subsurface deadheads with the paddles as I progressed across the lake.