Big Bridge On A Frosty Morning

Day 120: Let's step away from the loom for a bit to take a walk up to Big Bridge. It spans Sahara Creek where the Lower Elk Spur Trail crosses it and then begins to climb into Elbe Hills to connect with Upper Elk Spur and a maze of logging roads. It might not be the most pleasant hike in the world because this trail system was designed for people who enjoy the backcountry from horseback, but if I can break away from watching where I step to look at the surroundings, it'll do in a pinch for a brief moment of "forest bathing." It's fairly close to home, so close that I decided to walk to the trailhead (a distance of three miles one way), conserving gas for more important outings and giving myself a little more exercise in the process. Perhaps I bit off slightly more than I could conveniently chew after months of inactivity. Perhaps I should have turned around short of my goal, but such is not my nature. I pushed on to Big Bridge even when I knew the bottoms of my feet were beginning to blister. Upon returning to pavement an hour later, I began to regret my decision despite the magnificent ice-encrusted mushrooms I'd discovered along the path. As I hobbled back home on three miles of unforgiving asphalt, I told myself I should have known better. This is what happens when you stretch "halfway" to "three-fifths."

Water Under Roadway

Day 119: The sign says,"Water over roadway." I don't think that's entirely accurate at this location, although if you were to have looked in the opposite direction, it was true in another hundred feet or so and then again further down the hill. And by "hill," I am referring to a gentle decline of about 50 feet, not enough to make me gear down when I'm on my bike and climbing back up toward home. Here, the waters of a small creek come in from the north, the stream fed by runoff from taller, forested hills. A channel roughly ten feet deep on the far side of the pasture holds 12" of water during normal conditions; when flood-producing rains occur, the stream leaps its banks and races to reach the ditch shown in the photo. It continues on for another quarter mile or so where it is joined by another side channel, thence to pass through a culvert beneath the highway and into the great Nisqually. However, the ditch can't handle rains like we've had recently, and the stream gets angry when it finds its way blocked by asphalt. It pounds and digs, determined to follow its natural course. While water over the roadway may seem to be the most immediate concern, water under the roadway poses a much greater threat to motorists who can't see potholes and collapses through the turbid flow. Don't be an idiot. Turn around. Don't drown. And yes, I had already ascertained that the piece of verge supporting me when I took this photo had not been undermined.

Sahara Creek Morning

Day 129: I varied my walking route this morning so that I could hike in restricted territory, i.e., the horse trail system at Sahara Creek. Oh, it's open to the public with one significant proviso: vehicles are required to have an annual permit at a cost of $30. Access is free to walkers or bicyclists, so as a walker, I sauntered right on in and went a mile and a half up the Upper Elk Spur trail.

Now while $30 may not seem like much in today's world, the permit it buys only covers lands administered by the Dept. of Natural Resources. Forest Service lands require a different permit at a cost of $35 annually. Those two cover the lands to the north and south of me. To the east, visitors to the area will need a third pass if they want to enter the National Park.

Not long ago, I saw a bumper sticker reading, "You can't see the forest for the fees." I appreciate the sentiment. That said, I had a lovely walk in lightly falling snow this morning, thankful that I live close enough to these trails that I only need to walk a couple of miles to get to them.