I stirred in my tent, and felt a chill run through my spine as the desert dogs barked . . . far closer to my camp than I expected, and they sounded hungry. . .
Okay, it was chihuahuas in the next camp over at 1 A.M., erupting in a brief round of yips. The rest of it, I'll blame on reading Stephen King's Dark Tower before bed. I was at Merrill Lake in Cowlitz County, enjoying the blessings of a Discover Pass and camping for free. 5 A.M. eventually arrived, and I broke camp, made a light breakfast, and drove up the Forest Road from Merrill Lake.
I'm going to admit. . . there is likely some hiking and habitat that I missed. This is what's been advertised:
Merrill Lake Unit opens to public: ‘It’s like a national park’ - The Columbian
But for me, "It's like a forest road" was most of the experience. I had hoped to search here for Ruffed Grouse and Hermit Warbler, among other summer birds I was missing. Windows down, I did stop now and then when I heard an interesting noise. This allowed me to find my first Vaux's Swifts for the year (136 for the year list in Cowlitz), and a cooperative-enough Hermit Warbler, singing from a treetop (137).
I stopped at the "end" of the road, with snow impeding a drive to the Ape Caves in one direction and the Blue Lake trailhead in the other. One nice bonus at this stop was getting to listen to Varied Thrush songs - a sign that you've gotten to a good place in late May.
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| Hermit Warbler |
Yale
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I looked at the time and figured I’d head back towards the
“main” road, inasmuch as the Lewis River Road could be called that. I was
meeting my friend Sariah at 9:30 at the Yale Community Library but had a
little time to grab another cup of coffee at the very least. I also held out
some hope that I’d drift into an area where my phone would accept or send
texts. No luck there!
I am not tech savvy, if I can be totally honest, BUT I know that at some point in the future, our kids will tell their grandkids, “Sometimes we were out of cell phone range,” just like we tell our kids that we used to have to choose between phone calls and the internet! That’s my one prediction for the future.
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| The Harry Truman Platter |
I knew I might have a pretty big hike the next day, and that I’d done some hiking the day before. Having second breakfasts felt like a wise, rather than just a hobbitty, thing to do. So, I got the Harry Truman Breakfast – eggs, sausage, and potatoes. No regrets. This, and a mug of coffee that was regularly refilled. This was just what I needed. I would have to come back some time!
The waitress was singing along to the Killers, and I called
her out on it, asking when karaoke night was. “Saturday! I just found out!” was
the response. Folks… I do like a good karaoke night. As I’ll detail later,
there may be some competition here, but hopefully I can get to this one. If
you’ve read my blogs at all, you know that I like to get to know what people
are like in the counties I visit. I’m in four counties this year. I’m stopping
in on places as urban as Vancouver, and as rural as. . . well, Cougar. But
karaoke night. . . People can lean left or right, they can work with all kinds
of colors on their collar. . . but we all love music. And any karaoke night
worth its salt is full of people who are willing to cheer on other people who
are brave enough to get in front of others and sing. It seems like a small
thing, but I definitely have karaoke plans ahead here in this corner of the
state.
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| Lazuli Bunting |
Finished with my breakfast, I saw it was getting close enough to 9. I settled up and made my way back down the highway to the Yale Community Library. . . and promptly fell asleep.
No sleep, no matter how needed, or how sound, is going to
last through the sounds of one’s first Lazuli Bunting of spring (138). I heard the
sassy, buzzy song – one I don’t hear often enough to imitate or describe, but
one that still holds a little bit of familiarity. I got out of my car, where
I’d dozed off, and walked off towards the bird, eventually getting some nice
views, and even a picture.
Sariah arrived a little after 9:30 – she’d sent a text to
let me know that her “free” day had been made a little less free by some
unresponsive coworkers but was still free. Our plans were to head off to
Yacolt (the big town of Yacolt!), but she had not yet had breakfast, so. . .
back to Cougar! I told her that a good breakfast was waiting for her in Cougar,
and that I’d be there in a jiffy, after I made a quick run for a bird.
On Yale Bridge Road, shortly after it leaves Lewis River
Road, there is a set of powerlines that crosses it, and associated trails.
Yellow-breasted chats are seen here almost annually (they’re a code 4 bird,
meaning that they’re not quite annual… yet). I drove to a little pull off. . .
walked for a bit. . . and found nothing. I crossed the road, listened during a
blessed break in traffic, and heard all of the classic Yellow-breasted Chat
calls. Bingo! (139). Willow Flycatchers were also calling here (140).
I arrived at the Lone Fir Café once more, and sat at an
outside table this time, not minding the fresh air at all on this perfect
morning. We got caught up as she worked through her eggs, and we eventually got
back on the road at 10:30 or so, with a Western Wood-Pewee (141),
calling as I got to the car, my last May bird in Cowlitz!
Yacolt
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| Moulton Falls |
Moulton Falls State Park looked like a nice little walk, and likely one that would let me see and hear some of those spring birds that I was missing in Clark. As we pulled up and got out of the car, a Hammond’s Flycatcher (103) was one of the first calls I heard from the trees. We hopped on a little trail to the top of the falls. It’s. . . really not much of a hike, but we got to some beautiful little pools where we decided that barefoot was the way to go. (Later, from the other side, we saw an older man baring much more than that! Must have been something about the cool water on a warm day.)
I was distracted by butterflies, and Sariah was focused on
the water. I eventually sidled up next to her to try to figure out what she was
looking for.
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| The hunt for periwinkles |
She added (correctly) that the actual name for the organisms
was “Caddisfly Larvae”. I. . . had never seen these in my life, but Sariah grew
up near creeks (I am guessing that they were proper “cricks” from the sound of
them) and was familiar with these little critters. Amazingly, they spin some
kind of silk around them that allows them to acquire a shell of sorts, composed
of whatever river pebbles are around them. This had me pretty excited. I saw
some nearly right away but was completely unsure whether the tubes that I had
found in the water were or were not the larvae in question.
They were.
As we enjoyed looking at these two in hand, we started to
realize that there were more in the water. Some of the larvae stayed hidden in
their pebbly tubes, while other wandered around for a walk in the chilly water.
Some of them made their way over Sariah’s feet, moving fairly quickly once they
really got going.
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| Caddisfly Larvae |
I noted to Sariah that I had actually heard of these larvae before. I knew that American Dippers ate them but had never actually seen one. Over the course of our slow half-hour at the top of the falls, we eventually had an American Dipper zip past us, headed upstream.
I . . . move fast sometimes during these trips. Get a bird. Move along. Get another bird. Move along. It was very cool indeed to have a chance to make a little food chain connection here. We eventually had our fill of this little bit of the ecosystem. we returned to the trailhead and moved along to the *proper* trail. This brought us to an actual view of the falls, which we enjoyed for a bit, talking about the various plants along the way.
The trail moved up to a rail. We discussed this for a little
bit. Active? Abandoned? I think we landed on the latter. The trail hit the
rails too easily for it to be an active rail line. There was nonetheless a very
comfortable rail station of sorts, and we enjoyed some time in the shade,
listening to birds (including Willow Flycatcher (104), Warbling Vireo (105), Cedar Waxwing (106), Purple Finch (107), Wilson's Warbler (108), Black-headed Grosbeak (109), Western Tanager (110), and Yellow Warbler (111). Being away from the crowds and the sounds of crashing water just made it easier to hear the different songs, given more lazily as the day was warming up.
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We eventually headed back towards town, stopping at one point for a Lazuli Bunting (112) that I had heard out the window.
Back in town, we settled on the local Mexican restaurant, Tacos Sensacion. It was a perfect cool spot to catch up on life. The food. . . I really think I could be more discriminating with Mexican food. I've just kind of always enjoyed it, and this was the case here. I wasn't wowwed, wasn't disappointed, just satisfied. The service was also warm - another seemingly unwavering constant.
The chat, just like the waterfall hike, was delightfully unrushed. I may become a fan of this on birding trips, following particularly busy days with more relaxed ones. We talked about many a many a thing. At one point the Yellow-breasted Chat detour I'd made became a question.
"So that was for one bird?" "Yes" "Literally one bird. And you knew exactly where to look for it?" "Well, pretty much, yeah. It had been seen there in years past."
Sariah found this interesting, and I guess it's something we take for granted. Over time, we just come to internalize a lot of the patterns as far as habitat goes. It's easier and easier to pull over and expect things like White-crowned Sparrows, MacGillivray's Warblers, Olive-sided Flycatchers, when the surroundings look good. Yellow-breasted Chats love these powerline cuts, and there's more than a few of them out there that keep returning to the same ones annually.
Sariah and I had our goodbyes after this late lunch/early dinner. I knew I needed to finally secure some matches and should probably have more water on hand for my hike the next day, so I went to the local store on a resupply mission. Walking the aisles, at one point, I brushed some dark schmutz off of my leg. It fell to the ground.
And it started crawling away. . .
In the milliseconds before my shoe landed on it, I went through the whole line of questions: There are ticks in Western Washington? Did its head come off when I brushed it away? They can't crawl away without a head, right? How am I supposed to look for a head if I squish it?
I got some of the answers here. Warning. There are pictures of ticks here.
To the Grouse Vista Trailhead
The drive up from Yacolt to the Grouse Vista Trailhead was lovely. I did windows down when possible, and I would stop when habitat started to look interesting. Along the way, I found a few more American Dippers, and two new year birds for Clark County: Olive-sided Flycatcher (113) and House Wren (114).
I'd been watching reports from hikers over time leading up to this hike, knowing that road conditions and snow on the trail would be worth watching. As it turns out the road conditions were just fine by the time I was making this trip, and there were a dozen or so vehicles parked at the trailhead as I arrived.
Nothing new at the trailhead! I just got settled in, read a book, occasionally got out and walked around. There were hikers returning from the full walk up to Silver Star Mountain, and I got the reports I expected. Just the last bit of the trail had snow. It wasn't treacherous, but microspikes would indeed help.
I was surprised to see a few cars still there as sunset and twilight moved in. They belonged to some groups that came back in fours. I would worry about being on the trail so late, but they seemed no worse for the wear.
The last car disappeared down the forest road. I tilted the seat back, draped the sleeping bag over me, and drifted off to sleep.
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| Day 20 in the books! |
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