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.

Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge

Day 27: I didn't plan to go to the Refuge today, but after failing to find what I'd gone shopping for in Yelm and Lacey, I figured it was a good Plan B. The last section of boardwalk was closed for the season as I knew, but the first portion of it was enchanting in an autumnal sort of way. Plus, the tide was in, always better for scenic photos. The weather was pleasant for a November day as long as I was protected by the trees, but as soon as I got out in the open, I was wishing I had a couple of sandbags in my pockets. In fact, while I was fiddling with changing the battery in the camera, the tripod took wing. It didn't simply fall over. It lifted off, and I caught it by one leg before it could go over the side of the dike. After that, I kept it pinched between my knees. But here in this protected marsh, the water was barely disturbed by the wind.

Interurban-Green River Trail

Day 230: In the winter of 2009, the Green River went out of its banks and the Green River-Interurban Trail was heavily sandbagged in an effort to protect the homes on the far side of the dike along which the trail runs. Some areas of the trail were damaged as well. Once the floodwaters had receded, King County did not have the funds to remove the sandbags and/or repair the trail. It was a sad day for bicyclists and walkers when it was announced that the trail would be closed for the duration.

One particular bicyclist missed the memo. Three years ago, operating on the blithe assumption that all had been put to rights, I parked in Pacific (the southern trailhead) and launched myself toward a Taco Time lunch at the north end of the trail, approximately 18 miles distant. When about seven miles from my start point I discovered a small mountain of sandbags blocking further travel, I was disappointed, to say the least. Unfamiliar with the city streets which might have allowed me to bypass the damaged section and not fond of riding in city traffic, I simply turned around and went home.

The trail has since been reopened, but circumstances haven't permitted me to ride it until today. I had Old Blue in the shop in Sumner for his annual physical, so when I picked him up, it seemed logical to drive a few more miles to Pacific. That hadn't been my original plan for the day, but what the heck, it sounded like a good idea even if I hadn't packed much in the way of snacks.

So there I was, going merrily along, thinking about lunch at Taco Time as I pulled into the Three Friends Fishing Hole wayside, and what did I see, to my surprise? A big orange "Green River Trail Closed" sign! But this time, there were arrows pointing to a detour route. Dismayed, I followed them, knowing I'd be forced onto city streets whether I liked it or not. In a few hundred yards, I came to a busy highway. I scanned for another detour arrow, and the only one I could find seemed to point in entirely the wrong direction, crossing an overpass. Or did it? It was set at an angle, hard to tell. I gave it a try. No, that was definitely wrong. Maybe it meant that I should go through a parking lot and enter the trail again by a local access. On the trail again, I was alone but for one walker on his lunch break from the industrial complex. I made an inquiry and was given some rather vague directions which I followed...again wrong, but at least they led me to a construction worker who pointed me the proper way. In a mile or so, I was back on track. But as I got closer to Taco Time, I spotted more orange signs saying that other areas of the trail would be closed until some time in 2015. Oh dear!

I'm glad I made this ride today. It feels as if it was ordained by the Fates or some such nonsense. I don't think I'll be riding this way again, not until I hear that the construction is completed.

Western Coltsfoot, Petasites Palmatus

Day 178: A sight almost as common in our lowland bogs as Skunk Cabbage, Western Coltsfoot is another early-spring emerger. Its odor isn't nearly as strong, but to my nose, it is less pleasant. Oddly, field guides seldom mention the scent. The flower heads burst into bloom before large, palmate leaves develop, often rising to a height of two feet. Sweet Coltsfoot (another variety of Petasites) is found at higher elevations and has a more strongly divided leaf. It blooms in late summer.

Plants Vs. Zombies In Real-Time

Day 24: The Nisqually Land Trust's annual Hallowe'en tree-planting event saw several Zombies obviously affected by behaviour-altering Hypno-shrooms working hard at digging holes and installing saplings in an area of Ohop Valley wetland. Most of the 45 participants in this project missed the memo regarding the dress code for the occasion, but it didn't dampen their enthusiasm. We planted 500-600 native trees and shrubs, including Baldhip Rose, Salmonberry and Oregon Ash, all especially selected for the wet-soil ecology of this newly-acquired property. It doesn't take BRAAAAAIIINS to understand the value of the work contributed by these volunteers, both alive and undead.