Currant Events

Day 180: Staying abreast of currant events is very important because this occurrence means that the hummingbirds won't be far behind. Red-flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum) is extremely popular with our tiny avian friends and they may often be seen hovering around the flower heads even before the individual blossoms have opened. The inflorescence of the Red-flowering Currant is its best feature. The small black berries are rather bland and uninspiring, if edible in a pinch. The plant itself is a woody shrub which grows to about eight feet in height.

Prospective Tenants

Day 179: They say that the best time to look for a new house is during bad weather so you can tell if the roof leaks or the windows sweat. Violet-Green and friends are checking out the local real estate in vast numbers following yesterday's downpour of rain. I'm sure they will find accommodations to their liking because I gave each house a thorough cleaning last fall when I took them down for the winter and re-roofed as well.

Three species of Swallow visit my property and two (Violet-Green and Tree) make use of one to three apartments each season. The third species (Barn Swallow) takes its summer lease in a neighbor's outbuildings. My photo records don't indicate any type of time-share arrangement between the two types of bird; rather it seems to be a matter of who stakes the first claim.

Tachycineta thalassina (Violet-Green Swallow) is easily differentiated from Tachycineta bicolor (Tree Swallow) by the white feathers surrounding the eye. Tree Swallow's eye is set in dark feathers. The color of the back feathers is often hard to distinguish reliably, although Violet-Green's two-tone iridescence is what gives the species its common name. The female Violet-Green will lay 4-5 eggs in late April or early May, and hatching will commence approximately two weeks later. The young will fledge when they are a little over three weeks old. Both parents will tend the young and may sometimes continue to feed them after they have fledged.

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.

Going The Distance

Day 177: Which pair of boots has gone the distance, top or bottom? If you based your guess on the torn out D-ring and lack of heel tread on the bottom pair, you would be very wrong. If there is one adage to live by as a hiker, it is this: never buy cheap boots. The bottom pair, destined now for the garbage can, were purchased less than two years ago. A second identical pair is almost as worn, and that's just from the abuse they received during the fitness challenge.

On the other hand, the top pair is forty years old, and as my favourites, they've seen thousands of miles. They've been to the top of Mount Rainier and several other Pacific Northwest peaks. They've suffered rocky terrain, saltwater sand, volcanic pumice, soaking rain. They've been resoled four or five times, but the leather is still in good condition, if rather scuffed. The bottom pair cost me a whopping $69 at a national outfitter. I knew they wouldn't last. I shelled out $189 for those trusty, trustworthy Bambinos in 1975 (a lot of money in those days) and they'll be good for another several thousand miles. Unfortunately, the boot is no longer made, but if it was, I'd be willing to spend $400 on new ones.

Boots are an essential part of my wardrobe. I have eight pair. I am attentive to their care and feeding, drying them carefully when they get wet, sealing them against snow and water, keeping the leather soft and pliable. That said, I expect them to serve me well. I want them to go the distance with me, not wear out after a lousy 1500 miles.

Banished!

Day 176: Hie thee hence, device of torture! And stay there until next winter! Yep, I have achieved my final mileage goal in the winter physical fitness challenge, and the exercise bike has been sent into exile. When I got up this morning, I only needed the aerobic equivalent of 16.5 walking miles to bring my total to 1500, and between riding the bike for almost two hours and walking 7.5 miles, I'm done!

A few statistics here, because when you're as old as I am, this is something to brag up:

Starting on January 7 and ending today, I rode the exercise bike for 216 hours to earn the aerobic equivalent of walking 891.5 miles. However, the actual odometer reading was significantly greater: 3456 miles "travelled" at an average of 16 MPH. As for the walking portion, I put 602.5 miles on my feet, covering a variety of terrain from pavement to steep, muddy trail. The remaining six miles were accrued with sweat equity while digging holes and planting trees in rocky ground for three hours. Thus the breakdown is 891.5 plus 602.5 plus 6 for a total of 1500 aerobic equivalent miles.

Over the course of the challenge, I lost 12 pounds and am now as trim as I've been at any time in the last five years. My leg strength has increased and my endurance is up significantly. Overall, I feel much perkier and energetic. That's not to say there haven't been a few days when I really had to push myself to get out there, but any program like this is as much a test of resolve as it is of physical ability. Fortunately, I have always enjoyed walking and challenging myself on a physical level. Just like climbing a mountain, the only way you'll get there is by putting one foot in front of the other one, over and over and over.

Three Falls Tour

Day 175: I had a delightful walk in Pack Forest today, taking in all three cascades of the Little Mashel River. With the amount of rain we've had, the falls were in their prime, but the trails were less than optimal. The mud was deep in places, very clayey and slick, and the trail down the embankment seemed primed for a landslip due to the saturation of the ground.

The approved access which I used begins at the administrative compound on the west of the property, and follows the 1000 Rd. for about two miles before taking off on a secondary spur (the 1070) for approximately half a mile before reaching the trailhead proper. Pack Forest maintains the trail to the lower falls, and the upper and middle falls which lie outside Pack Forest's boundaries may be reached on unmaintained branch trails. There is much evidence of partying at each of the cascades, left by locals who come in via an illegal point of entry on the east side.

My hike was completed with only sprinkles of rain at the beginning and end of the trip, but precipitation returned soon after I'd reached my car. I think the Weather Gods were exceptionally kind today, my reward as the winter physical fitness challenge draws to a close.

Sunny Cats

Day 174: Just let the sun stream through the window, and Tip and Skunk both go bonelessly limp. What is it that makes cats such heat lovers? They'll lay beside the fireplace until their fur feels hot enough to ignite, and a sunny spot on the floor makes them spread out like too-warm pats of butter. I can't abide feeling melted, yet these two seek out the experience and revel in it. A sunny cat is a happy cat, "limp dishrag" look or no.

Mourning Cloak, Nymphalis Antiopa

Day 173: If you take into account the fact that we're still in the month of March, you'd have to agree that Pack Forest offered up a butterfly bonanza today. Not only did I see two Commas (presumably Green, although they didn't alight to let me check their identification), I saw four individual Mourning Cloaks (Nymphalis antiopa). Three were between the Reservoir Trail and the water tower; the fourth was a mile closer to the administrative compound. My field guide says that adults may over-winter, emerging to fly on "snowy-sunny days."

Announcing Spring's Arrival

Day 172: In the Pacific Northwest, the color of early spring is yellow. It starts with Skunk Cabbage, quickly followed by daffodils, forsythia and a less welcome sight, dandelions. Scotch Broom rounds out the golden time as the first blues intrude, its masses of sneezeworthy flowers looming above the Camas prairies, but soon Mother Nature broadens her palette until summer becomes a riot of hues. Painted with splashes of orange and dots of red, dashed here and there with purples and pinks, accented with bursts of white, her canvas is one of motley in July. Perhaps she feels she must introduce us gently to her art by demonstrating a clear, pure style, and then encouraged by our acceptance, she seeks to surprise us with something boldly avant garde in her second showing. For now, though, she is in her Yellow Period. Spring has arrived.

Snow Queens, Synthyris Reniformis

Day 171: Early emergers, the dainty and delicate Snow Queen favours the margins of lowland forest, its bell-shaped lavender flowers often paling to nearly white, bearing a pair of dark purple stamens. Its leaves (not shown in this image) are heart-shaped with lightly scalloped edges.

While walking the Yelm-Tenino Trail today, I discovered a streak (for lack of a better word) of Synthyris extending about twenty feet long by five feet wide between a narrow band of evergreens and a horse pasture. A patrol of ten yards beyond either end of the patch yielded up no other specimens of the plant, and I did not observe them anywhere else along the trail. I suspect the availability of natural fertilizer may have played a role in encouraging their growth in this area.

Membranous Dog-Lichen, Peltigera Membranacea

Day 170: As if lichens weren't fascinating enough by themselves, existing only by cooperation between fungus and algae, their common names are utterly intriguing. Peltigera membranacea (Membranous Dog-Lichen) is a member of the larger family of "pelts," which includes among other Dog and Fan Lichens such oddities as Freckle Pelt, Frog Pelt, Carpet Pelt, and Born-Again Pelt. Other families have even more peculiar names: Rock Pimples, Ragbag, Sea-Storm, Spray Paint. Who thought up the vernacular nomenclature? And what had he been drinking? I can understand Oakmoss and Bearded Lichen, but what about Naked Kidney and Salty Rock Tripe? Gritty British Soldiers? Bloody Comma? It's enough to make me wonder whether my love affair with these complex lifeforms has its roots in science or etymology.

Lucky Horseshoe

Day 169: 'Twas my good fortune to find a lucky horseshoe, but not so lucky for the hapless horse who had preceded me on the Upper Elk Spur trail by a day or so. Lost to the sucky mud, this shoe also appeared to have been improperly nailed, as witnessed by the spikes sticking out sideways. Poor Nellie or Ned had been headed uphill and must surely have been lame by the end of the adventure.

So what is it about horseshoes and luck? Some people say they should be hung above a doorway with the ends pointing upward so that luck will be captured in the curve. Others say the bend should go at the top so that luck will shower on anyone who passes beneath the shoe. I've never suffered any ill effects from having a points-up shoe above my front door, though neither can I say I've gained any boons. Like Ned/Nellie, I'm just happy if I can keep my shoes on my feet.

It's All Der Pollen In De Air

Day 168: It's dat time of year again, da time when all der pollen in de air makes my eyes water and my nose run. Red Alder (Alnus rubrum) is the current culprit, soon to be followed by Douglas Fir, the primary tree species in the Pacific Northwest. It's a hell of a note for someone as outdoorsy as I am to be allergic to the woods but fortunately, my allergies aren't severe. In fact, it usually takes me a couple of weeks to make the connection between irritated eyes and the blush of color on the Alders. My reaction to Doug Fir is a little more radical. Standing at the end of my carport, Big Doug powders my car with yellow dust which then works its way into the air recirculating system. A trip to town will have me scratching at my face and sneezing unless I remember to drive with the windows open for the first few miles. A few weeks of taking a mild antihistamine will get me through the spring season, and then I won't have another bout until the grasses bloom at the end of summer. For now, though, it's just Alder pollen in de air. No need to buy Kleenex stock just yet!

Angry Fun

Day 167: I recently made a couple of pair of fingerless mitts for my sister-of-the-heart Mousie (Alison). I sent the first pair off as soon as I finished them to give her a chance to suggest changes to anything she didn't like about the pattern...cuff length, fit of the hand, and so on...and when she received them, she said they were perfect. I immediately started the second pair and mailed them out a few days ago in the last little box I had. With another pair of full mittens to make for my other sister-of-the-heart Patty, I figured I'd have to go box hunting.

Well, today one of the boxes returned home, stuffed with a pair of Angry Birds "pencil toppers" (finger puppets in my book) and a catnip toy for my two kitty kids. Everybody knows how much I love those Angry Birds, especially the black one! Look out, pigs! Here comes Da Bomb! Thanks, Mousie!

Today, Everybody's Irish

Day 166: Oxalis is frequently sold at this time of year under the name of "Shamrock," but true shamrocks are a type of clover. Likewise, the "traditional" American dinner of St. Paddy's Day corned beef and cabbage is about as Irish as pierogi or lasagna. But what do we care? On St. Patrick's Day, everybody's Irish...even auld crusty Scots like me. Have a happy St. Pat's!

Morning At Tucker's Ford

Day 165: There's something foot traffic should remember about Nicholson Horse Trails, and that's the middle word of the name. Although the trails are often rough and dotted with "road apples" in the summer months, at this time of year, you risk sliding and sinking in deep mud if the equestrians have been about. Last week when I walked Lower Elk Spur, I was able to dodge puddles fairly easily. Today, travel was downright hazardous, especially on the steeper sections due to a combination of rain and recent horse usage. That said, I'd got it in my craw to go up to Tucker's Ford. By the time I got home, I was caked to mid-thigh with the greasy, clayey type of mud all hikers dread. To my credit, I managed to stay upright, something I can't claim for all prior trips, but I found myself saying, "I hate horses" time and again; an unfair assertion in light of the fact that I was using trails set aside specifically for them.

Celebratory Dinner

Day 164: Tonight, I am celebrating. After dinner last evening, I hopped on the exercise bike and put in my last three miles for the day, a figure which put me over the team goal of 1200 miles by one mile. I have a colleague to thank for inspiring me to complete the whole "trail" on which the challenge was based. Early on when she saw the mileage I was recording, she asked, "Gee, Crow, are you going to do the whole trail all by yourself?" I eyeballed the mileage, balanced it against the days remaining and said to myself, "Y'know, I might-maybe just could do that!"

The exercise required for the challenge is based in aerobic equivalents. To accrue the equivalent of one aerobic walking mile, the participant must put in a certain number of minutes at a specific exertion level. For example, here toward the end, I've cranked up the resistance on the bike to the point that 13 minutes equals one mile of walking. When I started, I was riding 16-minute miles. On the other hand, odometer miles will be significantly higher. Sixty-five minutes of riding the bike may read out that I've travelled 18 "road miles," but in fact only has a value of five miles (5 x 13 = 65).

So here I am, 10 weeks and 1200 miles later, and I've lost nine pounds. I feel better than I've felt in 25 years. My energy level is up, as is my endurance and strength. I'm tearing up hills which would have had me gasping last fall, sprinting up them like they aren't even there. My uniform fits comfortably now (never mind that I've worn the soles off two pair of boots). Our team was the second to complete the trail in all of the participating parks, and the first in Mount Rainier. We still have two weeks to go, and I'm not stopping now! I plan to put in somewhat shorter days between now and the end of the month (maybe only 20 miles instead of 25-27), and then in April, I'll switch over to a "maintenance routine," augmented by my regular hiking and kayaking activities.

Tea Time

Day 163: "'Twas down by the glenside
I spied an old woman.
She was plucking young nettles
And scarce saw me comin'."

It could have been me in a previous year. I haven't brewed up my annual batch of nettle tea yet because the young nettles have just begun to emerge. Ideally, they should be picked at this stage, i.e., when they're only a few inches tall, and if they're abundant, simply pinch out the top two or four leaves. Wear gloves, because even at this size, they sting. Pick and wash enough to fill a three-quart saucepan with the leaves compacted slightly. Add six to eight large cloves of garlic and a heaping teaspoon of black pepper. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Allow the tea to simmer for 10-15 minutes and then strain it through a wire sieve. This old-fashioned "spring tonic" tastes rather like beef bouillon and will leave you feeling all warm and glowy inside. The young leaves may also be cooked and eaten like spinach.

Another Day At The Office

Day 162: I had the pleasure of two companions on my lunchtime walk today, and for the most part, the road through the Longmire Volunteer Campground was free of snow. In just six to eight weeks, the Calypso Orchids will be emerging. I can hardly wait!

Salmonberry Crepe

Day 161: I had occasion to be down in Flatland today and discovered that Spring hasn't simply arrived, it's abounding. Daffodils, flowering plum and cherry, grape hyacinths, vinca minor and crocuses brightened yards and along the Puyallup River trail, the Salmonberries (Rubus spectabilis) were starting to open their crepe-like petals. In June, these shrubs will put on a crop of watery orange or red berries which in combination with a sprinkling of dry lemon Jell-o and a topping of sweetened biscuit dough make a delicious campsite cobbler. This dessert can also be made in a conventional oven. In my opinion, the orange variety surpasses the red in flavour, although it tends to have a higher moisture content and should be picked with more care not to crush the fruit.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 160: In my personal almanac, the First Day of Skunk Cabbage is one of the most major events of the year. It's a "moveable feast," arriving with an element of surprise when I see the first glimmer of yellow in the roadside bogs.

Y'see, Skunk Cabbage was my mother's favorite flower, and each spring, she would cut a single spathe, place it in a vase and allow its unique odor to permeate the house. There's a reason they call it "Skunk Cabbage," and trust me, one was plenty for my young nose. Later in life, I learned that the roots were edible (if perhaps a little too high in oxalic acid to be good for you in quantity) and in fact, I used to prepare the tuber like zucchini, adding tomatoes and onions for a medley. Perhaps that helped me accustom myself to the odor. While I still regard it as "skunky," it no longer offends my olfactory sensibilities as it once did.

Gustatorial adventures aside, Skunk Cabbage announces spring more surely for me than any field of daffodils or drift of crocuses. Spring, my friends, is truly here!

Lettuce Lung, Lobaria Pulmonaria

Day 159: What urged me to walk back to the site of yesterday's froggy encounter was this specimen of Lettuce Lung (Lobaria pulmonaria) on which the seldom-seen brown apothecia (fruiting bodies) were clearly apparent. Although the lichen is abundant in this area, I observed apothecia only on this one example. Lettuce Lung prefers old-growth forest and is sensitive to atmospheric pollutants, so if you happen to find yourself where it grows, you may be assured that you're breathing clean air.

Pacific Chorus Frog, Pseudacris Regilla

Day 158: Often heard but seldom seen, the little Pacific Chorus Frog is the Northwest's version of "spring peeper." A master of camouflage, this frog has the ability to change its markings as well as transform from green to brown, although it may take weeks or months for the alterations to occur. Unlike a chamaeleon, the frog does not change color to match its environment; rather, it changes in response to light as it is reflected by specialized cells in the amphibian's skin.

I was fortunate to stumble across this specimen today (almost literally!) as I was exploring the improved trail to the river at the Park's Tahoma Woods complex. I had checked out the area on my morning walk and found a lichen I wanted to photograph, but as is often the case on my walks, I only had the point-and-shoot camera with me. I came home, ate lunch and took a 15-minute break before heading out the door again, this time with the real camera and the tripod slung over my shoulder under my jacket. I looked a little lumpy, but better that than anyone thinking I was toting a rifle up the road. When I reached the river the second time, I set up for the lichen shot and was moving the tripod to get a different angle when a "leaf" jumped about a foot and landed with a plop. I stood perfectly still and searched with my eyes until I saw the unfoliose sheen of frog skin. Finding the little bugger with the lens was even harder! You can't imagine how thrilled I was to capture Pseudacris on "film" for the first time.

Easily Amused

Day 157: I'm easy to amuse. Just give me a map and compass and turn me loose! Although nowadays, I do a lot of plotting beforehand using the computer, and in the field, I'm likely to be navigating by GPS, I always carry map and compass for backup. You don't want to find yourself with dead batteries five miles off trail.

Indian Plum, Oemleria Cerasiformis

Day 156: A true harbinger of Spring, Indian Plum is one of the first shrubs to flower here in western Washington, emerging shortly after the early pussywillows have turned yellow and just before Skunk Cabbage heads poke up in the bogs. Also known as Osoberry, the astringent fruits were mixed with oolichan grease by native peoples to make a local version of pemmican. There is very little flesh in the fruit which resembles chokecherry to some degree. Ripe berries are dusty purple in color. The flower has a peculiar and not altogether pleasant scent, and the shrub seldom exceeds 15 feet in height.

Trail Companion

Day 155: Watch where you step! With warming temperatures, all sorts of little critters are coming out of hiding and may be making their way across the trails. During my walks this week, I've found angleworms, a Woolly Bear caterpillar and an abundance of snails hiding among forest detritus, and I've heard our Pacific Tree Frogs singing although I haven't been able to spot any of them. These tiny folk can't get out of your way quickly, so it's up to you to be on the lookout. You don't want to hear the crunch of someone's shell under your foot, so please be careful where you tread.

Bird's-Nest Fungi, Nidula Niveotomentosa

Day 154: You could fit several Bird's-Nest fungi in the space it takes to spell out "Nidula niveotomentosa" on the page, and a dozen would just about cover a penny. These tiny mycological marvels are not uncommon in the Pacific Northwest, but they are easy to overlook. Each little cup contains twenty or more "eggs," spore-filled peridioles the size of a zero in a penny's date. In this species, rain assists in transporting the peridioles. If you look in the space of lighter wood to the left of Lincoln's head, you will see one which has been washed out of the cup. Another lies in a line with and to the right of the date, just below a patch of grey-green lichen.

I discovered these specimens along the Upper Elk Spur trail while I was out on my morning walk under light rain. I was unable to get a good picture of them with the little point-and-shoot I carry on my belt, so when I got home an hour or so later, I packed up the good camera and tripod and drove back up to the trailhead. As luck would have it, that was when the forecast of "heavy rain" proved itself by coming down in buckets, helping those teeny-tiny peridioles in their search for new real estate.

Baby Doug

Day 153: Here in the Pacific Northwest, our lower forests tend to be "mixed" stands of evergreens with the occasional incursion of deciduous trees like Red Alder or Cottonwood following stream channels or populating wetlands. Cedar is easy to identify, as is Hemlock, but things get a little stickier when it comes to telling Sitka Spruce from Douglas Fir, especially when the trees are young and no cones are available for analysis. The easiest way to tell them apart is to compare cross-sections of a needle. Fir needles are flat, and spruce needles are square. A fir needle will not roll between your finger and thumb, but a spruce needle will. Spruce needles are stiffer and the ends feel sharp. Fir needles are more flexible and the ends are blunt. This baby Doug (Pseudotsuga menziesii) has found a wonderful moss-covered "nurse" to nurture it to adulthood.

In My Element

Day 152: I am becoming one with the lichens, and I don't mean to imply any metaphysical connection but rather a purely physical one. During this fitness challenge, I have put in a couple of hundred miles walking in the rain. Oh, I've been wetter in my career as an outdoors person. My mom and I spent six weeks backpacking in what felt like a continuous downpour, returning from one trip just long enough to swap out sodden clothes for dry ones before launching on another adventure. We were tenting at Blue Glacier in the Olympics on a night when four inches of precipitation fell, the humidity so high that it "rained" inside the tent and left us sleeping in a pool on the tent floor. I've done my time in the rain, and I swore I wasn't going to walk in it for the challenge, but here I am, and lichens, moss and fungi are beginning to sprout on various portions of my anatomy.

Rain is a fact of life in the Pacific Northwest. If you're a native, you accept it and go about your business in Goretex and coated nylon. You grouse and grumble and expect sympathy from people who live in drier climates, but you don't let it keep you from enjoying yourself. The only time rain upsets you is when it stops...stops just as you arrive home from a walk in a drencher.

I missed most (but not all) of the downpour this morning on my trip up to the Big Bridge on the horse trail. It sprinkled, it drizzled, it rained, and only hosed down for about fifteen minutes, but it was never dry, not until I closed the front door behind me, stripped off my dripping jacket and trousers and hung them in the shower. Then it stopped. Then a faint light emerged, not quite strong enough to cast shadows, but sufficient to dispel any rumours of the non-existence of old Sol. The grass took on a yellow cast and mist began rising between the ridges. It was and is tempting to go out for another walk, but I know how this works. In the time it takes to suit up for the inevitable possibility of more rain, it would start falling just as I stepped over the threshold.

Wrong Turn Vista

Day 151: It's hard to believe that only two days ago, I was enjoying afternoon temperatures of almost 60 degrees and this beautiful (if accidental) view of Mount Rainier. Yes, this shot was taken shortly before I discovered I'd hiked two miles out of my way. In my post for that day, I referred to this area as a "clearcut" which it obviously is not. Unlike the snow-covered clearcut in the distance, this particular section has been selectively thinned, one of the many sustainable-forestry practices being employed by the timber industry here in the Pacific Northwest. This site was planted with Doug fir in close spacing around thirty years ago. When the trees reached a harvestable size for pulp (8-12" diameter), they were thinned. The remaining trees will be allowed to develop until they reach proportions suitable for cutting into lumber. The close spacing of the initial planting retards development of branches on the lower trunks and thus yields "clear" material for boards. The height of these trees is approximately 60-80'.

Lichen Architecture

Day 150: I've mentioned previously that lichens are particularly equipped to conserve moisture whether it's rain, dew or simply humidity, and no species typifies the amazing biological architecture of a water-retention system better than that of abundantly squamous Cladonia bellidiflora. The pale greyish-green squamules (scaly flakes) on the podetia (stalks) allow this Cladonia to make use of whatever moisture comes its way, even when the lichen is growing on a vertical plane such as the side of a downed log. We speak of animal and bird species as being "specialized," but lichens are one of the best examples of specialization in nature.