Connected At Last!

Day 131: I don't really enjoy walking on paved bike trails, but I was willing to make an exception for the new section of the Foothills Trail which runs from South Prairie north to connect with a formerly isolated portion which then takes you into Buckley. This particular stretch, roughly three miles long, has been held up in negotiation with adjacent private property owners for at least thirty years. Last year, the final permissions were granted and the trail was at long last completed. Since I was in the area today, I decided to assault it on foot. There was nothing botanically remarkable alongside the path, good or bad (I always have an eye out for invasives), except a few half-open Indian Plum flowers, but multiple bridged river crossings made for a refreshing and scenic walk. I wasn't quite sure where I was when I decided to turn around, so I marked it by GPS and mapped it when I got home. Yep, I'd stopped right where it connected with the old trail down from Buckley. I'd linked up, just as I'd hoped.

Rana Catesbeiana, Bullfrog

Day 164: As much as I love the froggy folk, I find it difficult to say anything nice about Rana catesbeiana, the Bullfrog which is outcompeting native frogs in a rapidly growing number of ponds and wetlands in the Pacific Northwest. This exotic ("non-native") species is easily identified by its large tympanum (eardrum), as large or larger than the eye. Color can be quite variable, brown to brownish-green, green, or in some cases, even blue. In size, Bullfrogs can measure up to 150 mm. from snout to vent. The female is capable of laying up to 6000 eggs in a single season. Native to the eastern portion of the US, Rana catesbeiana is considered a problematic invasive in Washington.

Foothills Trail Highlights

Day 126: While friends in the eastern states are experiencing bitterly cold temperatures and snowdrifts threaten to cover their houses, the Pacific Northwest is basking in unseasonably warm weather. I took advantage of it again today to put in a little over ten miles walking the Foothills Trail in Orting. I thought I would share a few of my favourite spots with my readers.

If you park near the fire station and walk east a little over two miles, you may find yourself confronting the Attack Emu. Even though he's behind a sturdy fence decorated with "Not responsible for any accidents" signs, be careful not to approach too closely if you want to take a picture. His beak fits between the wires, and I have no doubt that it would be strong enough to break a lens. He's fast, too. He can sprint across the field in the time it takes you to change ISO settings, and he resents the fact that no one asks him to sign a model release.

At about 3.25 miles, you will reach a bridge over a small bog. Right now, the trees are bare, but as soon as they leaf out, the warblers will come. These fast-moving little birds are hard to spot amongst the foliage, so you may want to study up on "birding by ear" before heading this way. You may also find eagles in the general area, as well as other accipiters.

Four miles in, you'll come to a larger swamp created by a beaver dam at the southwest end. It is always dark and cool here. There are many lichen-covered, broken trees standing in the water, giving the area an air of mystery and foreboding. I call the trees the "Swamp Witches."

The best attraction on the trail as far as I am concerned is the wetland interpretive area. In summer, it is possible to find Blue Herons, Red-Winged Blackbirds and a wide variety of other avian life here. You will also see native and non-native frogs, and of course some of the insects which are the staples of their diet. Recently, many of the young alders east of the picnic table have been cut down by beavers. You'll find the interpretive area 4.5 trail miles east of Orting.

If you'd like, you can continue on to the town of South Prairie, but I generally turn around at the interpretive area or where the trail crosses the next paved road. Ten miles of pavement-pounding is about all I care to do. I'll come back this summer and ride the entire trail on my bike.

Eagle Day

Day 91: With something close to spring-like weather today, I opted to take a nine-mile walk on the Foothills Trail in lieu of a shorter local walk and second session on the exercise bike. Thick fog lay over Orting at the start of my hike, but dissipated over the first hour to reveal beautiful blue skies. As I approached the landmark I call the Warbler Bridge, I noticed two Bald Eagles perched in a tall cottonwood. Eagles are a fairly common sight along most western Washington rivers, but over my last several walks along the Carbon, they have seemed substantially more abundant than usual. Common or not, they are still a spectacular sight, and this fellow appeared to be taking advantage of the sun to warm his wings. The second bird was perched just below and to the left of him. I snapped several photos before continuing on to my turn-around point at the South Prairie Wetland interpretive area, but the eagles didn't budge an inch in the time I was gone. I was glad they were still there. I got better photos on the second shooting.

My Bicycle And Me

Day 224: The Pacific Northwest has been basking in summery temperatures for the last several days and they're due to stick around for a couple more before the rains return. Anyone who enjoys the Great Outdoors can't be expected to stay inside if there's any possible way they can escape other obligations. I did have some shopping to do, and thus my destination was dictated by the convenience of locations where I could purchase pet supplies, fishing lures and possibly pay a visit to the bike doctor for the annual derailleur adjustment.

It's only been a week or so since I rode the Foothills Trail from Orting to South Prairie, so I wasn't expecting any surprises. The frogs aren't out at the wetland wayside yet, nor have I seen the Great Blue Heron who sometimes hangs around, but Red-Winged Blackbirds provided a brief diversion. South Prairie's little riverside park is a pleasant place to stop for lunch, and if no children are about, the swing is great fun for an "older kid." The emu (a sight which stops nearly everyone) was grazing in his field, and otherwise, the river just rolled quietly by, its passage only marred by the regrowth of invasive Japanese Knotweed along the banks. Given this pastoral vignette, the word which might come to mind is "uneventful," which indeed described the day until I came to the bull ambling casually down the center of the trail.

This is not the type of obstacle one normally encounters on paved bike paths. His ladies were calling to him from the pasture, voices he answered with a loud and mournful bellow. It was clear that he had no idea how he'd come to be on the wrong side of the fence and unfortunately, I had no clue either. We exchanged glances and passed each other without incident, and I rode on, stopping at the farmer's house to report his errant charge. The owner's comment? "Yeah, he does that from time to time. I'll take care of it."

Swamp Witches

Day 245 (bonus edition): I can't resist posting this shot from yesterday's bike ride. It makes me feel like I was dropped into a Russian fairy tale and Baba Yaga is lurking in the woods. The pool is one of many alongside the Foothills Trail between Orting and South Prairie. This one in particular also reminds me of a Mangrove swamp. The trees are Cottonwoods and Alders, though, and the pool dries up almost entirely by the end of the season. Still, these Swamp Witches do their voodoo and enchant me every time I pass by.

Open Hostility

Today as I was sitting by one of my favorite wetlands along the Foothills Trail, I was casting about for photographic subjects and in the tail of my eye, caught a flurry of wings and a dive-bombing streak. I looked up and saw a Great Blue Heron perched at the top of an old snag about twenty feet high and a Red-Winged Blackbird devilling the daylights out of him. There were actually two male Red-Wings working together. One bird would dive for the Heron's head, permitting its companion in the assault to approach from behind to land on the big bird's back or stubby tail. The Heron stood its ground for a good fifteen minutes, remaining motionless under the savage attacks save for stretching its neck and raising its beak. Finally, it gave up. One Blackbird immediately occupied the perch and announced its dominance with rapidly repeated calls. If you look closely, you can see where the cap of the Heron's wing has been bloodied by repeated peckings. I was fortunate to make this capture of the Red-Wing in full display.