September 22nd - Killen Creek Trail to the PCT

Mount Adams from FR 23

I pulled the trigger and made a run to the Northwest side of Mount Adams. I am so happy about this decision. In some years, I have played around more with a statement: "I'm not doing this to see birds." It's not an entirely accurate statement, but it does highlight that just seeing birds. . . I mean, that doesn't encapsulate all of why I do these trips. I also do it to get away from technology for a bit in a life that sees too much of it. The workout that a good hike can bring is also welcome. I do it to explore the culture and the people of a county. And one of the biggest reasons I do this is my love of maps. 

In good weather, one of the best routes
to/from Trout Lake - FR 23

This part of Skamania County is one I've not really explored. Years and years ago, my ex and I had a map of Washington State, and we'd ink in lines for any roads we drove together. Forest Road 23 stood out glaringly as this way to get from Highway 12 to Trout Lake that we'd just never done. Sometimes we did those "new lines" trips and were really glad to have gotten there, made plans to return when we could. 

This was not one of those drives! At the time, the road wasn't in great shape (it's still a little dicey in some of the paved sections!) so the knuckles got a little white. Additionally, it's heavily lined with trees, so the scenery varied little as we drove. 

But I knew from bird reports that there were some amazing birds just off of FR 23. I also knew that the views improved drastically once you start heading off the main road and towards Mount Adams. I. .  ."knew" these things but only from maps. Abstractions showing where species occurred and road maps showing how different places were connected. I always come back to the painting "The Treachery of Images" by Magritte. "ceci n'est pas un pipe" it declares ("This is not a pipe."). Because it's not! It's a painting of a pipe.

Poring over maps and species accounts without ever going to a place and experiencing it. . . holds some of the same treachery! I know that this makes this whole blog an act of treachery towards anyone who reads it. :D But I hope that this is an offense that you are able to correct, maybe by getting out and visiting some of these places. 

And that is what I enjoy most about maps. Those moments when I move the roads, place names, birds, and geographical features from the "abstract" to "real" column. It never ceases to amaze me that these things all really exist, and that they were previously just lines. . . dots. . . words to me before. 

Where the Fancy Chickens (TM) Are

Spruce Grouse sightings

Spruce Grouse was perhaps my most hoped-for target for this trip. I've only seen them once, birding with Kevin Black and Khanh Tran many a year ago. Khanh. . . goodness. He's quite a human, and an excellent guide - very knowledgeable on all things birdy. He has definitely developed a reputation as an Owl Whisperer, and as a Finder of the Fancy Chickens. Spruce Grouse are exactly that. Fancy because you really do have to go out of your way to find them. Having a deep familiarity with the areas where they hang out is valuable. But yeah, once you find them, you realize they really are just chickens, as you snap pictures of them walking around your feet. 

It's a great time of year to look for them; there were several sightings in the week prior; I was stoked. 

Quite a few other birds were possible adds to my year list as well. Interesting in retrospect to look over my scribbled notes and expectations for the trip. I think I went in with the idea that I'd see 5 or 6 new species: 

Clark's Nutcracker, and Mountain Chickadee: definitely

Townsend's Solitaire, Cassin's Finch, Spruce Grouse: All but definitely. I would have wagered a few bucks that I'd find all three of these species. 

An accipiter. Any of them. I'd seen no Sharp-shinned, Coopers, or Northern Gos- Hawks in Skamania. Any would be possible in migration. NOGO and COHA had both been seen in this area in the previous week. Sharp-shinned had been seen on the other side of Adams. The only obstacle would be my lack of skill with accipiters. On that same trip mentioned above, we were driving a back road when Khanh called out "Goshawk!" I watched the bird flying in front of our car, and then disappearing into the trees - I had to just let it go! Experienced, skillful birders can sort these species out, and as far as accipiters are concerned, I'm just not enough of one of those.

There are times, for sure, where I temporarily hold onto all of the details. A trip to the Hawkwatch Observatory on Chelan Ridge had me separating Sharpies and Coopers with ease after a few hours. But as I drove down from the ridge, the information just slowly shlooped out of my brain. With book in hand, perched birds, photos, I can usually get them sorted out. I gave myself even odds of finding a single accipiter on the trip: so 5 or 6 birds. 

Others. . . I had jotted down and just figured that they were imaginative possibilities: Northern Saw-whet Owl, Boreal Owl (which has been observed in this corner of the county!), Peregrine or Prairie Falcon, Northern Harrier, Pine Grosbeak, White-winged Crossbill, American Three-toed Woodpecker, Lapland Longspur, Brewer's Sparrow. If I could get a little higher, I figured that Gray-crowned Rosy Finch or Rock Wren might even be possible. 

Accipiter!

Having left at oh-dark thirty from Renton, I got into this area mid-morning. I pulled over at a pretty meadow at one point when I saw a small accipiter pop up into a tree on the edge. It seemed dark - maybe backlit? But I didn't spend too much time on it in binoculars. I got the camera on it, knowing that eventually I would benefit from any field marks that showed up better in this picture or that picture. 

This was fun to look at later. 

ceci n'est pas une hawk

Merlin! (141 for the yearlist). How. . . was this not on my list of possibilities? And also. . . yeah, look folks. This bird was on the far edge of the meadow, and I didn't really get to see it fly much! There are probably some structural differences that make it easy to separate a Merlin from a Sharpie, but I just had a good laugh at myself when I eventually had a chance to look at the image. I'm just glad that I had the wherewithal to snap some pics. 

I also made a stop at Takhlakh Lake before heading to the trailhead for Killen Creek. Very pretty!

Killen Creek Trail

Killen Creek Trail - this was what most of the trail looked like. Easy Peasy

Help me out, flower nerds!
What is this pretty little flower? 

I got to the parking lot, looked at my bag that included my hiking boots, non-cotton pants, etc. I looked up at the sunny sky, took inventory on how comfortable I felt at the moment in my trail-runners, jeans and t-shirt, and just decided to go with what I was wearing. I applied my sunscreen and bug repellent. . . and then finished my food. This order of events didn't seem so awful until later on the trail when my burps took on a slightly chemical aroma. It wasn't a lot - just enough to notice. Wash your hands, buddy, sheesh. 

I was surprised at the sheer number of Golden-crowned Sparrows I came across throughout the day, starting very early on the trail. They are definitely moving now. Yellow-rumped Warblers, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, and both Kinglets.

Red-breasted Nuthatch

Cassin's Finches (142) called as well from lower parts of the trail, and a Clark's Nutcracker (143) did as well. It was a little frustrating to not have a view of some of these birds as they flew overhead, blocked by the canopy, but the calls were distinctive enough. Both of those points could not have been more true for the next bird I added: Pine Grosbeak (144!). The clear, pretty, warbling call is. . . for me, it's like hearing Allison Krauss. I don't know how else to put it in terms of how clear and pretty it is. Pree-duh-lee-deep! Pree-duh-lee-deep! It called from above the canopy. 

The trail itself was not so bad. I did not regret my choice in footwear, as most of the surface was . . . almost sandy. It wasn't all that steep, although in parts there were some big steps that made my knees flinch! 

I don't know when I've done a hike quite this slowly. I just wanted to be able to hear the clucking of Spruce Grouse if some happened to be a little bit off the trail. So, I'd stop periodically, listen, and look around. On one of these stops, I heard some tap-tap-tapping. It took a little while to trace this to the source - the Red-breasted Nuthatches, which were particularly dense in parts of the trail. Tapping is a minor part of their repertoire. Some of them got vigorous enough with that tapping to trick me into thinking I had a woodpecker. 

THOK THOK THOK

Pileated?? I wondered on this one. In fact, I just now looked on eBird, and it wouldn't have been completely out of the question. But was it loud enough to be a Pileated Woodpecker? I moved towards the sounds, and eventually found the source. 

American Three-toed Woodpecker! (145)

This one *was* on my list of possibilities. They do tend to favor places with recent burns - perhaps the reason why there were clusters of sightings in this area, several in some years, none in others. I'd seen no reports in the county this year, so I wasn't *really* expecting an American Three-Toed Woodpecker. It stayed and thwacked away, and it was nice to have a chance to really enjoy the bird. I have only come across them less than a handful of times before.

Two of my favorite Pete Fahey quotes came to mind: 1) Kaching! (something he called out almost without fail when he found a good bird. I hope that some of you have had a chance to hear him say this, and that this made you smile). 2) "How do you find those good birds, Pete?" "I go out. And I look for them." For the amount of time I'm heading out birding, I feel like the number of good birds I'm *discovering* isn't all that high. This in part comes back to a plain old lack of skill at times. It would be fun when it's all said and done to go back and look at a bloopers reel of my life. Hopefully it would include all of the amazing birds that I've had in my binoculars. . . written off as something common. . . and left behind me. 

But this one felt like a fine find. I allowed myself a kaching. :)

Mountain Chickadee

Continuing higher yet, I heard more and more Mountain Chickadees (146). By the end of the hike I penciled in an eBird-flaggable 30 of them by a conservative estimate. I don't know why there were so many of them, or why there usually *aren't* quite so many. Once things opened up a little more, I had more opportunities to visually check them. Chestnut-backed Chickadees can get a little raspy when they're just kids. Some people cite this as a potential source of confusion for IDs. I can see someone mixing them up, but they do seem distinctive to me, and my binoculars confirmed what my ears were hearing. 

Primitive Blog, No Warning Signs

Those road signs are a warning sign, and I suppose that the title here is one too. There are times on these trips where things in life, combined with the trip itself, the sights and sounds around me. . . just take me apart. 

After a couple of hours of thinking that things would open up around the next corner (and, I'll be honest, a couple of hours of turning each corner, pointing ahead of me and calling out "Spruce Grouse". . . a routine that proved to have very little predictive power), it finally did. 

A good bit of climbing and being enclosed . . . followed by a wide-open flat meadow. . . a log to sit on. . . and Mount Adams tucked in partially behind a cloud (as it would be all morning). I just sat and had a cry. There has been some climbing in life of late. There have been enclosing circumstances, where I'm wondering. . . when is this going to open up? There have been some efforts in life where I have this feeling of "almost there" (similar to the feeling someone might have when they are 146/150ths of the way towards a goal, yeah?). Even Mount Adams being hidden... being right there and having it tucked just barely out of sight. 

I LOVE when places like this take life and paint it for you. I know not everyone out there quite enjoys a good occasional cry. I don't mind them at all. We cry when we care about things. This was a moment to reflect on those things, reflect on the journey, and to be overwhelmed by a feeling of promise and hope. Apologies for the interruption to the bird stuff, but hey. . . there was a warning sign!

Back to our regularly scheduled program: 

The bird highlight at this little meadow was another Pine Grosbeak, calling out with a flight call, a more husky "pretty pretty". Again from behind the trees, despite my efforts to get in a better spot to see them.

I continued on, crossing a little stream, and still slowly ascending, now in more open habitat. And I had this great birding moment: Goshawk! Maybe. . . soaring ahead of me, almost headed behind a tree. And Spruce Grouse! Obviously. . . scurrying along on the ground to my left. What to do? Where to point the binoculars? It's one of those split second decisions that separate the Really Good Birders from the Not Very Good at this Birders, I'm sure. 

So, of course, I looked down and left. The rest of this darkly-feathered bird popped into full view for me. 

Have ya seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Great movie. King Arthur is on an epic journey to find the Holy Grail. He at one point arrives at the castle that is purportedly holding the grail. And it's occupied by these annoying Frenchmen who proceed to ridicule him. 

"How DARE you profane this place with your presence!!" is the line that comically comes to mind every now and then, when I am similarly on the hunt for a Good Bird in a Good Place. . . 

And it's a damn Northern Flicker. lol

I love flickers. I wish them no ill will and enjoy the guffaws that they bring when this happens. There are just a lot of flicker-sized birds out there that are really good birds, so this will not be the last time this happens to me. 

The hawk was big. . . soaring through an opening and seemed long-tailed. There were lots of signs that pointed towards Northern Goshawk, but I didn't get on it in binoculars to see any color. Couldn't look for an eye stripe. Couldn't get any other field marks to even make sure it was an accipiter. (not that I'd make that kind of mistake. . . heh.). I will wonder!

Northern Flicker. . . 

A little more walking and I reached my endpoint for the day, the Pacific Crest Trail. 

Romantically, I love the idea of walking the whole thing in Washington. I've touched it a few times this year, but it's just been too impractical to make concrete plans to walk much of it. Even today, I started ten steps down. . . and stopped to ask if I was really ready to make it twenty steps. And why?

Above me I could see the scree above High Camp. The trail up to High Camp started right at this intersection, and I had the same twenty step discussion with myself. I imagined Rock Wrens, and Gray-crowned Rosy Finches up there, but I had to think of what my end-goals were for this trip, and/or this day.

As easy as the hike had been, my legs and feet were barking at me a little bit, so I decided to have a rest there at the intersection. I had some water, listened for birds, and scanned for raptors using the ridges below. At one point, there was a big push of sparrows coming through. I was only able to find Golden-crowned Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos before a couple came by. We chatted for a bit - I'm just not generally inclined to be a "shut up, I'm birding" kind of person! So if any Chipping or Brewer's Sparrows were tucked into the 2-3 dozen sparrows that came through, I was not to find out. 

I spoke with the couple about their hike, about my goals up there, and of course, about grouse. This became a recurring theme. Exchanging of pleasantries, followed by "hey by the way, have you seen any grouse up here?" 

The responses: "Yes, on the road up here." (twice), "No", and "No, but I did see some prairie chickens back by Keene's Horse Camp." 

. . . 

And why wouldn't they think that Spruce Grouse were chickens?? As explained above, they certainly act like chickens. Having gathered the information I needed, I closed my survey booth, and started back down towards the trailhead. 

From the trailhead, it was up to Keene's Horse Camp, down the road to Horseshoe Lake, and a totally not accidental drive to Ollalie Lake. I scanned the road, and off the edges when there were nice bits of clearing. And somehow, I came out of this trip with no Spruce Grouse!

But I'm more than okay with how this trip turned out. With some hours of daylight left, I grabbed dinner in Packwood, and then made my way back home. The gas I'd put in the car early in the morning in Renton had gotten me down and back. I collapsed in my own bed, and hey. . . I only had *one* day of photos, bird sightings, and blog posts to deal with. Today (September 23rd) has been restful. I was able to poke at a little bit of work and know that I won't be trying to squeeze the time in to get this written. There are a couple of birding list checkmarks that were not checked, but I'm also keeping an eye on balance. This trip checked many boxes for balance. :)