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7:38:00 PM PDT
A Walk Across our Backyard Wilderness - The Olympic Mountains
Wake Up Olympic Peninsula, the sun is rising and a new set of waves are crashing at our door step. Both seen and unseen currents continuously surround us flowing like rivers from the brightest and highest mountains to the darkest depths of the seas. Both treasures and priceless lessons are to be found on a trek or pilgrimage across the heart and core of our backyard wildernesses.
Leaving behind an artificial realm of expectations, constraints, and fears perpetuated by society, my heart propelled me on my own personal voyage through Nature and took me to where life may have began and to where our journey begins. You can feel the very essence of the power of the sea as it steadily shapes and reshapes the shores and boundaries of the earth beneath our feet. My muscles and body begin to relax and my senses come to life as if they were being used for the very first time. I can smell the salty world around me acting as the newest spice in my life. The shapes and colors of the rocks and the seaweed begin to come into focus. The textures and layers of coastal vegetation invite me to feel in their aliveness. How wonderfully sharp a Sitka Spruce is. It makes for an excellent and rejuvenating tea too.
I notice a young bald eagle foraging on a harbor seal pup carcass, recycling the intricate components of our biological vessels. An adult takes its turn on this seaside buffet and flushes the juvenile into the blue skies that blankets my own body. I notice that it is more than the air that holds the eagle high in the sky. It is a combination of everything I see before me along this coastline that has allowed this creature to soar in harmony and dance to the rhythms of life. Could it not flow without the assistance of the fish in the sea that nourished the seal and which now feeds this very bird. I begin to see the air embracing the land and the land hugging the ocean, each giving a part of themselves to each other in a perpetual state of ecstasy.
Just over there in the cove I sense a ghost of an otter in the vast patch work of perennial kelp that provides both food and shelter to the diverse and countless invertebrates that shape the sub-tidal kingdom. One organism would not exist as it Is without the other. I can now imagine that they in essence know that I am here justas I have suddenly become aware that they are there. Are not all things interacting with each other on some unseen level of existence?
Walking barefoot through the sand along a trackless beach, I become hypnotized and realize that my mind has Now momentarily been swept away by the influence of the crashing waves. Achieving a cleanly swept mind allows the world around me to flood itself into the depths of my Being. I begin to breath in the life around me. Each Moment becomes a gift because that Moment will never PRESENT its Self again. As I move and flow through the Trails of my life, I begin to understand that I am not merely an observer in Nature, but that I am truly interacting with it.
As I now enter into the rain forest along the Bogachiel River, I am not only displacing the molecules around me, I am altering the behaviors of the life that calls this place Home. Since this is the home of countless creatures, I feel compelled to respect them and to learn what wisdom they may have to offer. I ground my Self, and become neutral and non threatening in Nature. I can hear a brown creeper talking nearby. I hold an image of the bird before me in my mind and within minutes it is spiraling up a red cedar picking at virtually invisible insects within the nooks and crevices of this wondrously scented tree next to me. In contrast, a red breasted nuthatch was walking down a neighboring tree in quest for a mid-day snack. I wondered if they were eating those red little mites that were crawling on me just a moment ago. Then some of the wisdom of these little birds came to me. There is more than one way to maneuver across a tree or through life to accomplish the same ultimate goals. Each species has its own collective path and methodologies which allows it to survive and mesh into the rest of life as a whole; as well as each particular species having individual variations and behaviors to take the rest of their own species in a new direction, if ever needed. Those birds were pretty clever in how they manipulated my thinking.
Walking along the river and watching the American dippers free dive next to rocks in search of aquatic prey, I noticed that they must oil themselves often. Water flowed so easily over them as if they were wearing some invisible skin suit, of which in essence, they were I suppose. Also, looking around carefully, I noticed that there were spruce, cedar, and even Douglas fir trees growing in abundance, but that western hemlocks were rather scarce here. As this observation crossed my mind, several Roosevelt elk crossed the trail just ahead of me. Once again, ask and you shall receive. The elk were browsing the hemlocks, and where the young hemlocks did exist, they were just out of reach from these long necked mammals. Climbing higher and higher up into the drainage, there appeared to be an infinite amount of shades of green from light filtering through from the canopy high above. Vine Maple, red huckleberry, oval leafed blueberry, and countless other forms of shrubs, herbs, moss and lichen, decorated the forest more festively than any Christmas decorations could ever offer. This, and all balanced wild places represents a celebration of life and beauty that goes beyond words and description. It fills an individual with excess energy, over stimulating and sensitizing the senses, as well as exciting every cell in your body. One fuses with the world around them and one suddenly floats effortlessly across the sky-scape.
Higher and higher into the Montane introduced us to the pacific silver fir, a hardy shade tolerant resident that welcomes us more into an area accustomed to winter time snow. Amazingly, 1000’s upon 1000’s of avalanche lilies adorned the emerging trunks of these True firs, somewhat simulating the slushy snow that had recently melted. Nearby, the resonating hooting sounds of the blue grouse began to penetrate my body as if an instrument of ultrasound. On occasion when we crossed paths with a female with young, she would run in a direction opposite of her hiding camouflaged chicks, pretending to have a lame wing. I am the easy meal, she would announce, and not my children. Hungry, we were not though, and the subalpine zone became the object of my feast. Nowhere on earth do I feel more at home. Both literally and metaphorically, I am on top of the world here. The mountain hemlock with its short and stubby needles radiating in all directions lives in a land of long winters and deep snow packs. Snowshoe hare bound from these pockets of sheltered trees and hop across the majestic open meadows filled with herbaceous spring-time tonics. The vibrantly yellow glacier lilies with their edible corms seem to almost be an active participant in the melting of their neighboring pockets of receding snow. Subalpine buttercups and arctic lupines begin their dances with the bees and various pollinating insects that play their roles in this balanced stage that we act out our collective lives in.
Descending the snow lined ridges we encountered Mink Lake and wondered whether or not muskrats have lined the bellies of this weasels’ alleged home. Concentrated flocks of golden-crowned kinglets filled the air with both their presence and their high pitched sounds of chee, chee. Their entourage included the chestnut-backed chickadee’s who’s language mixed in almost all too well with their backcountry acquaintances. Together they scoured the western hemlocks and firs in persistent search of tiny insects nestled amongst the twigs and needles of this seemingly infinite forest canopy. An easy meal was also calling out my name down below in the Soleduck Valley which was home to the Soleduck Hot Springs Resort. These sulfur rich waters of up to 104 degrees Fahrenheit help to circulate our blood, our fluids, and our energy ever more fluently, and provide a sense of comforting leisure that cures the chill of the adjacent rain forest on a soggy day.
However, once satiated with the luxuries of an outpost on the edge of civilization, the urge to move onward and upward into the Soleduck headwaters overwhelmed me. What new views and perspectives upon life could I achieve on my ascent to the birthing grounds of this drainage. Following the infinitely varying and subtle trickling sounds of water brought me to the roar and glowing vitality of Soleduck Falls. Powerful, yet simple and majestic, this fluent passageway gifted me feelings of strength and fluidity allowing me to glide gracefully and enthusiastically to whatever heights I chose to climb. My world was enveloped in a mist and veil of vapor that offered glimpses to the secrets that these towering ridges held above the valleys of everyday lifebelow me. Having arrived, a shift moved within me and the outer world around me, where the heavy and drenching rains now became the white and pure and delicate snows that blanketed and insulated the emerging life around me. Several delicate species of flowers were the first to greet me into this higher realm revealing that one can find balance and a home in what only appears to be aharsh, turbulent, and demanding environment. Reveling in this new found zone of comfort, I passed thru and across the summit of Appleton where the gateway to blue and open skies lay before me.
With my new found awareness, I had to create a new Path for my Self on this new mountain top where new tread had to be broken down the steep snow covered slopes to Boulder Creek and its treasured Olympic Hot Springs. With at least 10 rock lined pools to relax and unwind the constricting nature of the mind, I realized that everything that I had seen and been witness to was now a distant memory of the past where the lessons learned from those steps taken have brought me the means to deal with the new found moment at hand. The rain and rain forest I left behind will in essence always be with me, for it has shaped and molded my consciousness with its own brand of energy that envelopes and shapes the landscape of the mind, just as a receding glacier shapes the land it too travels across.
The controversially damned Lake Mills was our next destination, revealing through thought and osmotic intuition that there are an infinite amounts of ways to harness the power of Nature. These ways are neither good nor bad, but do have consequences and repercussions that effect the ecosystem and the Earth as a whole. Tread Lightly were the final words that I heard as we approached Whisky Bend and the Elwah River Drainage . Elwah means Elk, and Roosevelt Elk definitely were at home down in the flats of Krause’s Bottom. Yet more intriguing was our new acquaintance with the oldest known lineage of rodent to live in this region of the Pacific Northwest. The Mountain Beaver, unrelated to the damn building type of beaver found along Lake Mills, is also known as a Boomer. This colony dwelling creature was in the process of harvesting Lady Fern and graced us as we watched it transport its meal to its nearby burrowing complex. It’s amazing what we are able to see if we just open up our eyes to the world around us.
The Elwah was also the portal for the Press Expedition of 1889 and 1890. Imagine the lessons that these explorers must have endured to cross these mountains and peninsula in an astounding six months time. Today, such a trip across this now well worn path may only take several days. However, the lessons learned from these present day surroundings are just as valuableand enduring as they were in the early days of exploration.
An alarm call caught our attention to a pair of young and fuzzy birds occupying this land of old growth vegetation. Up high in the Douglas firs that dominated this valley, we caught glimpses of two Spotted Owl babies that were partially still covered in down. And to our astonishment we crossed paths with four more of these young, and politically well known, but placid raptors just a few miles further along our Way. Soon, they too, like their parents, would be on the hunt for the nocturnal flying squirrels and wood rats that secretively foraged through the not so quiet hours of the night. We noticed that the slightest of sounds in the absence of the sun could seemingly be heard for miles away. Apparently, the dense energy of the sun suppresses and opposes how far sound can travel. However, in the absence of this intense radiation, sound seems to travel farther, with far less interruption and opposition.
However, a new day has dawned where Hayden Pass and its’ passage to the Dosiewallups River became our newest teacher. Passing through a forest of Lodgepole and Western white pine made it hard to believe that we were still on the very wet Olympic Peninsula. The existence of these trees here tell the story that Mt. Olympus and its associated glaciers to the west blocks a lot of the precipitation that passes across these mountains and that the terrain that we are presently traversing may be well drained and rocky in nature.
This temporary ecozone, however, transitioned once again into the Silver fir lined Montane zone where rounding a corner along the trail collided us head on with a black bear. Both the black bear and my Self were totally startled and off guard to cross paths with an unexpected large and potentially menacing presence. The bear, however, ungraciously gave us the right of way and left the trail in a rather grumpy manner. Following this large males tracks in both mud and snow showed us that this bear was on a mission and had not stopped for anything since depositing some scat some several miles on the other side of the pass. The black bear also was following the exact route of the snow buried human trail, indicating that he habitually followed this route throughout the seasons, perhaps patrolling his vast territory for intruders and potential mates. High inthe subalpine, we were also being watched by a rather large northern goshawk that was perhaps patiently waiting for a rodent or grouse to leave the inherent security of its brushy home. This large female was perched on a tree that looked like it was wearing a skirt. The skirts of these subalpine firs can touch the ground and allows the limbs to sprout and spread and reproduce more easily and efficiently.
Descending the drainage, a startling whistle dispersed a group of Olympic marmots back into their burrows where they had recently emerged from a deep hibernating sleep. From the safety of their holes, they were curious enough to sneak a peak at our approach and stare with both fascination and apparent contempt. Human beings seem to announce a demand for respect by triumphantly trotting around on hind legs looking large and scary to all those that crosses its path. Does not a bear look all the more intimidating and unpredictable when it too stands on its hind legs?
Approaching the eastern edge of the Olympic Mountains brought views of rugged and intricately carved mountain slopes that were more alpine in nature compared to the central and eastern regions of this vast wilderness. The presence of the pink blooming pacific rhododendron in the middle elevation understory gave further proof that this region received much less rain in comparison to other areas seen previously along our trek. Here the mountains virtually come to an end with magnificent views of Puget Sound and the towering volcanoes across the vast Puget trough carved by an immense ice sheet that flowed down from the north over 14,000 years ago. Mt. Rainer, Mt. Adams, and even the infamous Mt. Saint Helens can all be viewed from Constance Pass. How small we are compared to these grand forces that have sculpted and shaped the world we see around us.
As we traveled northward, contouring below our final massive ridgeline, we encountered the Clarks Nutcracker and some extremely old whitebark pines that this bird has an intimate relationship with. The Nutcracker is almost solely responsible for the success and future stability of this trees evolution by foraging upon and burying the seeds that it stashes away for a rainy and snowy future day. Some seeds, however, are not retrieved and germinate to create new generations of whitebark pines. It is these relationships in the intricate web of nature that keeps me coming back and exploring this ever-changing world, and therefore, the newly unexplored world around us. With ever step I take, there is something I have never seen before. Now with Mt. Baker to the northeast finally in sight, my journey across the heart of the Olympics is at an end. Port Townsend suddenly becomes a strong magnet drawing us to the conclusion of our journey through our backyard wilderness.
A walk in the woods is a journey to flow with the rhythms of Nature. It is a place to learn the personalities of the birds, the plants, and the mammals, as well as with all the creations of life. The trail is a place to see why and feel why Nature's inhabitants live where they do, and witness how they blend in with their surroundings. Hiking through Nature allows one to see the subtle transitional zones of living things and to experience successional stages from start to finish and from birth to death. A long walk in the woods and across the Olympic Peninsula allows you to see how life changes from moment to moment and from step to step. The Olympic Mountains are alive and they in turn make all those who visit them both healthy and truly alive.
Written by staceyandbern Blog about this entry |
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I really enjoyed reading this Bern, I thought I could see through your eyes something that my daughter may never be able to see. I have been longing for washington and have been incredibly home sick. Even the Mt. St. Helens thing has not frighttened me off...
Keep me posted on how things are going with you guys.
Love and light,
Hollie
10/29/04 7:04 PM