If you weren't already aware, Oregon was hit with some high temperatures early this summer. We apparently set a record for the hottest June, breaking the previous record of 1992. I find that alarming. And as a result, the air conditioner for my home office was dragged out of the box and was installed toot sweet. The temperature that everyone was alternately terrified or thrilled by depending on your attitude was the 102 predicted for the 27th, but the clouds came in the night before and actually kept us down to a chill low 90's. But that same day, Pendleton, out in eastern Oregon, broke it's own standing record since 1961 with a whopping 109 degrees. This number and others were rattled off by the tv weather people as if it weren't absolutely insane. 109 degrees?? 109?!? I mean, isn't that Nevada desert weather? Shouldn't livestock and old people be dropping like flies all around the region? When I ask this question of my friends, I'm reassured that animals are smart and will find some shade and just rest through the day. But what if there are no trees? Have you been out to Pendleton lately? It's not what I would describe as wooded, being mostly open pasture lands.. Well, I guess I'm overreacting, because I didn't hear about any significant deaths in the media, but I definitely decided to postpone the six day trip I was planning out to eastern Oregon on July 5th.
I had made these plans back in May when the idea of blistering temps wasn't really an issue. As the date of my departure approached and local temps had climbed into and stayed firmly in the mid 90's, my mind went back to some of my previous summer trips out in the high desert. The mornings are fine and you often start your day at six because the sun is up and so are all the birds and bugs. But by 9:30 or 10, the thermostat starts rising and you need to plan your movements accordingly. If you're hiking or treasure hunting or even just hanging by the river, shade needs to be utilized and lots of water needs to be ingested. I've come up with a variety of cooling strategies involving wet bandannas, spray bottles and generally just dunking your clothes in water and then putting them back on. This is all well and good, but my days often resulted in my hiding under any nearby trees, or under a tarp canopy rigged next to my truck, and fighting the onset of heat exhaustion. So I have survived on these trips in the past, but the question this time was: knowing in advance that the temps were going to be severe, would I be able to have a decent trip or would I just be torturing myself? I chose not to risk it, to postpone that week of wonderful places to see to the first week of October. At least at that point I can light a fire if I want to and have some nice cool nights as well as moderate temps in the day.
But in the meantime, what was I going to do with this time I'd scheduled off from work, and how the hell was I going to get away from these dreadful temperatures? You got it, head to the coast. It's about 30 degrees cooler and even a bit foggy. Our hot temps here in the Willamette valley tend to create foggy conditions at the coast, so I was so ready to go grab a couple days of typical NW early spring weather. I decided to head back down to the southern coast because I fell in love with it the first time I explored it just a couple of years ago. I had been to Cape Arago then, as well as Port Orford, Bandon and Gold Beach, and I decided on a pretty similar route this time..
Got up early on Sunday July 5th, packed the truck and headed south on I-5. Was torn between heading east on highway 38 along the Umpqua River, which is my favorite beach highway so far in Oregon, or checking out highway 42, which is a little further south and getting to see a new road. The curiosity won out and I gassed up at Roseburg, then headed east on highway 42. It wasn't particularly scenic, but nor was it that crowded. It was mostly two lanes at the beginning and when it became a single lane, I just pulled over to let a few people pass. I enjoy my drives out of town too much to let tailgating drivers piss me off. All in all, I wasn't too impressed with this road, that is, not until I got to the town of Coquille. At that point, the road to the coast turns to 42S, and runs another 18 miles through very pretty farmland and coastal sloughs until it ends at Bandon. And the temperature had now dropped considerably, so the air was cool and wonderful.
I'd been driving about four and a half hours in the heat, and was feeling pretty rough at this point. I had planned on heading south to Gold Beach and camping on the Rogue River, then working my way back north the following two days, but the enticing proximity of Edson Creek campground lured me in and I decided to head there and call it a night. This really sweet little campground is 5 miles north of the town of Port Orford, and 4 miles west of 101 on Sixes River Rd. There isn't running water and it has vault toilets, but it's really pretty and serene. It's a very modest $6 and there are 27 sites. I chose a grassy spot on the second meadow which I had to myself, with the creek to my back. I set up my truck, made some food and just decompressed. Walked down to the creek and fished out an entire cut up watermelon that previous campers had dumped in the water, clearly mistaking it for a trashcan. Have I mentioned how much I like people? But the creek was lovely and I took a few pictures, then went back to the campsite for a nightcap and some quality reading in the back of my truck until I fell asleep. The one thing that is a little bit of a drag about the Edson campground is that a forest service road continues past it along the west side and seems to be a pretty popular road to parts unknown. There was a fair amount of coming and going along it which can be a little jarring when you're trying to chill or sleep, but all in all it's bearable, and tends to die down at nightfall. As always, my first night in the truck isn't my best sleep, so I attempted to sleep in a little later in the morning to make up for it, at least until my neighbor's chatter woke me up. I was on the road not too much later, heading out to the lighthouse at Cape Blanco, just a couple miles north. Was beautiful and blustery, I snapped some photos, then headed south.
Edson Creek
Cape Blanco lighthouse and headlands
Douglas Iris
Stopped in Port Orford at the southern tip of town at the public beach. Headed down to the beach and took some pics of the vultures on their fishy carcass, some rocks, gulls, and swallows. So glad to be here, with the lovely gray skies, and the waves and the salt spray and the call of the birds.
Man, I love the coast.
Turkey vulture on mystery fish
Heerman's gull
Immature western gull
Bullwhip seaweed
barn swallow
Kept heading south and stopped a few more times at various beaches, then rolled through Gold Beach. Got a cup of coffee and headed south to Pistol River, driving up to and around the lovely Humbug Mountain along the way. I wanted to hike that trail on my last trip and this one as well, but the top half of the mountain was covered in fog, so I knew I wouldn't be able to see any views. I probably should have just done it anyway; oh well, next time. I pulled in at Pistol River, loaded my camera and gear in my back pack and hiked down to the south side of the beach. Brought along Teds, my intrepid travel companion through thick and thin. This is what happens when you really love animals. Like, "should have been a veterinarian" loves animals, and yet you're allergic to most of them. Sigh, maybe in my next life.. Until then, there's Teds.
Teds!
Pistol river emptying into the Pacific
Immature western gulls
Western sandpipers
Found some playful immature western gulls eating in the surf as well as a pair of western sandpipers and a few sand dollars kindly left by previous visitors in the rocks. Thank you, don't mind if I do. Took some pics of waves crashing and then had this creeping fear that I'd left my lights on. This happens to me all the time, and often at the coast, where the gray rainy weather necessitates lights, and then I'll drive home to sunny Portland, and not even think about checking them. This very thing took place on my last trip to Cannon beach in May. The next day the battery was dead and although I had AAA jumpstart it, I still had to buy a new one later that day at Les Schwab.. You people, with your newer cars where the lights turn off automatically, you don't know what fun you're missing. So here I was, with the very real fear and no memory whatsoever of turning the lights off. Shit! Shit, shit, shit. I decided that if I just hoofed it back to the parking lot, it would have only been about an hour and I should be fine either way. That beach was way longer than it looked, but I eventually got back to the river and climbed over the dunes to find my truck safe and sound with the lights off. Sigh of relief.. Was a good thing really, as I needed desperately to change into something cooler. The day was still overcast but much warmer than when I'd dressed at the campsite, so time to transition into shorts.
I really love being on the road with my little home in my truck. I become that person who changes their clothes in ten seconds between cars driving by, the person who can quickly pee behind any bush without anyone being the wiser, and the person who pulls down the tailgate to fry up a quick sausage on my single burner stove. Then I quickly pack it up and I'm on my way. I'm a good gypsy, a good traveller, but of course I'm also totally on my own, doing whatever suits me. Sometimes I want company, sometimes I don't. I often find people to talk to on the road, at campgrounds or pullouts, I've had some good talks, met some nice people, and it makes it more interesting, hearing their stories.
So I'd decided to head back north to Gold Beach, and any points in between. I stopped at a couple beaches along the way, looking for tidal pools, rocks of interest, shorebirds, flowers, driftwood, seaweed, any and all of it looked good through my camera lens. I took off my shoes and wandered around into the water at spots; the Pacific was pretty cold, but refreshing.
Dudleya Farinosa aka sea lettuce
Pigeon Guillemot, kind of my new fave sea bird
By the time I got back into Gold Beach it was late afternoon, and I decided I should head up to my campground to make sure I was going to get a spot. I took a right on Jerry's Flat Rd on the south side of the Rogue River and headed east about 9 miles on a curvy and pretty stretch of road. Lobster Creek campground is on your left, and you can drive through the campground and come out to the day use area on the huge gravel bar there at the curve of the Rogue. You can camp out there for free if you want to, there were a couple of campers and a tent out close to the river, but there is no tree cover on the gravel bar. I decided I preferred the shade and privacy of a campsite and headed back in to choose the site across from the bathrooms and the host's RV. There are only seven spots here, but there is running water and plumbed bathrooms, so I was fine with the $10 fee. I backed in under the two huge myrtle trees and set up camp. Made some food and had a chat with a fellow named Ted who was two spaces up. He was a cool older liberal guy who had quit working at the age of 39 and been on the road ever since. He was admiring the "simplicity of my set up", as he put it, and we talked about all sorts of things until he went back to his trailer and left me to my Indian curry packet and a fried sausage.. Ahh, camp food. That night I slept better, although there was a lot random traffic on the road, which was apparently right over me up the shaded embankment. I made it through the night, and woke up to lovely sunshine dappling through the trees. I picked some myrtle leaves for drying, packed up and headed back to town. Apparently you can use them like bay leaves, so I'm excited to experiment. Lovely trees.
Lobster Creek campground and the gracious myrtles
I planned to head to Floras Lake as I passed back through Port Orford. The temperature was warmer but still so pleasant compared to what I'd been suffering through in PDX. I did the nature walk at Floras Lake, spotting a savannah sparrow and what I think were some pine siskins, one sort of nesting right on the path. I skirted through the woods to avoid scaring it in case it was hurt. Went out to the edge of the lake and watched two windsurfers try to get going. Walked out to the ocean and enjoyed it's sheer emptiness and space, as the occasional gull or cormorant swept along over the waves. It's a nice place to sit and gather your thoughts. Headed back to the parking lot to once again peel off some layers, then head north to Bandon Beach.
I drove in through the beach loop drive, and parked at the top of the stairs, climbing down onto Face Rock beach just a bit south of my last sojourn onto it. Last time I had parked downtown and walked south from there. I found that same spot today as I walked north up the beach. That was where the interesting rock formations were, as well as most of the wildlife, from tide pools to birds to harbor seals. The incoming tide prevented me from going any farther north, but I found the point where I had seen my first and only marbled murrelet two years ago, so that was cool. Today was all about the pair of oyster catchers feeding on the rocks and the pod of harbor seals that eventually showed up. The water was lovely and I stood in it up to my knees snapping photos of everything. It was perfect weather and a great beach to stop at. I climbed the stairs back to my truck, talked to some ladies behind their birding scopes, asking if they had seen any puffins today. They said they thought puffins were around but tended to stick to the front of the rocks in front of us. Of course they did, those devious little sasquatches!
Mourning Dove
Pine Siskin
Savannah Sparrow
Beach at Floras Lake
Bandon beach seaweed
Harbor Seal
American Oystercatcher
I dusted the sand off my feet, and headed north to Coos Bay where I stopped for a Whopper, fries and a medium soda (this is medium, it's like 20 oz??). I do this a couple of times a year, almost exclusively on my camping trips, when I've run out of food. It was disgusting and tasty. My plan was to leave Reedsport heading east on 38 no later than 3:30pm so I could make it back to PDX with enough time to unpack and relax. I turned east on schedule, resisted the temptation to pull over and take more photos of a drowsing elk herd at the Dean Creek elk viewing area. Something about the way they're always there, conveniently near the walkway makes me feel like its a zoo and sort of depresses me. But it's a really pretty stretch of greenery, and they do have a bathroom. With a bladder my size, I know where every frickin' bathroom in the state is. I should make a pamphlet for other frequent bathroom break victims; it's what inquiring minds want to know.
This drive is really one of my favorites, especially the early portion where the Umpqua is wide and glorious. It becomes narrower and shallower and after you cross over it some miles in, the river bed that's now on your right side becomes littered with large rocks, almost more rock than water it seems. The temperature began to rise as I crossed the hills and approached the inland valley, and as I approached Elkton and then Drain, I was growing acutely warm as well as drowsy. I foraged in my bags for a can of Dr. Pepper and dumped it in the cup over the remains of ice from my previous soda. It gave me enough caffeine to get me through, although I eventually had to took a caffeine pill too. It was hot and with no air conditioning, this was going to be a long drive. Highway 38 dumps you out on I-5 at Cottage Grove which is about 125 miles south of PDX. And I would be hitting Eugene and then Salem at rush hour. But I was lucky, and other than the usual game of Frogger in two lanes, I didn't hit any stopped traffic until I was approaching Portland. I promptly exited the highway and took back roads home. Was home by seven and got the truck unpacked and got some sushi from Fred Meyer for dinner. I had a really wonderful two and a half days taking in the southern coast, cooling off and seeing some new sights. Another place I intend to keep visiting, and next time I'll climb Humbug Mt. with or without the sun. Go check it out, it's waiting for you. and happy trails!
and if you would like to see the photos larger, just click on them to see the whole photo stream.
June 04, 2015 Kayak Part 1
After years of dreaming of having my own kayak, I said screw it and bought one this May. Online from Amazon no less, because that's how you want a kayak to arrive at your home; carried up the stairs effortlessly by the muscled delivery man. I signed for it, shut the door and then just gaped at it, all ten feet long and two and a half feet wide, a giant cocoon of shrink wrapped goodness. I got out my knife and diligently cut away through three layers of cellophane to reveal my electric lime plastic adventure dream. I'd already bought my paddle through the mail from REI, and had my old life jacket ready to go. But while very light at just 35 lbs, the sheer bulk of this kayak suddenly seemed daunting. So I ordered a rolling rack that you can load the kayak on to portage it from your vehicle to the water, and it disassembles so you can carry in in the kayak with you. I was a little amazed at my own audacity. I've been poor for so long, and constantly stuck in the hilarious and ironic loop of paying down debt, that I forget what it means to buy something new and completely frivolous. I'm always waiting until "I have my debt paid down", which ostensibly means when I'm dead. And the most important thing about this for me is how I feel when I'm out on the water; it's an instant and palpable joy. To be right next to a completely different surface like that, gliding over it, through it, to be able to access nature from the water, well, that's just something I realized that I needed to have in my life right now, not sometime down the line. And to be able to do it on my own, to be self sufficient and still get on the water, that is ideal.
The usual additional expense typical to owning a kayak is purchasing a roof rack and all that entails. You could easily drop $3-400 on all the hardware and the kayak saddle from Thule or Yakima. This had honestly been a large reason why I'd put off getting a kayak. I have the same little 2WD Toyota beater pickup I've had since '95 in Olympia, replete with an ill-fitting canopy. Finally I just started looking at online posts about carrying a kayak in your truck bed. Turns out it's really common and very stable if you secure it well with tie downs. So off to the rack store I went to buy tie downs and foam pads for support. Then a quick stop at Andy and Bax for a dry bag, and I was ready to go!
I decided to head out to a place I'd traveled often by canoe and even in my old inflatable kayak, Smith Lake in North Portland. This is a wildlife area that I like to come to just to bird watch the shore and the woods surrounding the water.. It's a pretty shallow lake, and the channels that connect it to the adjacent Bybee Lake quickly become impassable as the summer months continue, and the water levels drop. With droughts coming over the last few years, this area of water is quickly becoming compromised, and as of June 4th when I headed out, the water was about 2 feet deep at best, less than that in other parts. The vegetation was so dense it was like paddling through a thick seaweed soup, and I felt badly for the fish that were struggling to find paths through the plant life. The fish die off's are increasing in mid to late summer because the water becomes too hot to support them. But for now, the lake was comically dotted with stalking Egrets, their feathers barely touching the water. I headed west across the lake towards the channel that would get me to Bybee Lake, if it was still passable. Once I was in the channel, I saw numerous cinnamon teal ducks, tree swallows, and got beached a few times.. I finally turned a bend to see that a beaver dam had been constructed across the width of the channel, and the tree directly above it contained an immature bald eagle giving off the vibe of "turn around now, lady". I snapped a photo, and took the hint, heading back the way I had come. Once out in the lake proper, I headed over to Pelican island, as I like to think of it, in the south east corner. As I paddled closer, I was disappointed to see no one home, but as I decided to call it quits, I looked up in the sky and saw the distinctive wings of a group of 13 American White Pelicans circling above me. It gave me goosebumps to hear nothing but the wind racing under their wings as they flew right over me and drifted in to the little dirt island they summer on. And then lo and behold, another 13 flew right in after them, followed by two other groups of around 30 apiece. As I watched, a couple eagles flew in nearby to start scoping out the new arrivals and strategize potential meals.. I was beyond happy to have witnessed some of my favorite birds, making the kayak trip seem all the more magical.. I paddled hard against the wind back to the shore and mildly exhausted, I was very happy to have wheels to get the boat and my gear back to the truck. Good first trip!
the brown is the mud bottom of the lake, about 18 " deep
immature bald eagle
June 15, 2015 Kayak Part 2
I was still a bit nervous about heading anywhere totally new so decided to head out to the Columbia Slough, which I've canoed with a friend before. I loaded my gear and headed out to Kelley Point Park on Marine Drive in North Portland. Right after you take the right turn into the park, there's a dirt parking lot on your left which is a perfect put in for small boats and is also a popular fishing spot. I was headed into the slough system and away from the entrance to the Columbia which was about 1500 ft northwest of where I put in.
The current was against me as I paddled, but I reasoned that this would make my return journey pleasant as I could just drift back, snapping pictures along the way, as I'd decided to bring the camera now that I had a sense of the stability of the boat. It was a really nice day, light breeze, lots of tree shade to paddle under if I got too hot. It seemed there was a great blue heron and subsequently a kingfisher to be startled every five minutes or less. I passed one other inbound kayaker, but otherwise had the water to myself. I heard some bells ringing periodically on my right side which sounded like something livestock would wear. But that seemed unlikely, as how would there be farm fields out in the middle of all this industrial river side, studded with warehouses and factories? I continued on and came to the split where the north slough divides and chose the narrower channel that I'd traveled before. It would end at a kind of blocked levy through which you could access the south side of Bybee Lake. I knew I could portage the kayak over the gate if I was feeling up to it, or just use it as a turnaround spot. The channel to get there was filled with quite a few downed trees and I had to navigate carefully to not get caught on wayward branches. I was definitely feeling a bit tired once getting there and thought I would just head back, using the current as a chance to rest a bit. Wrong..
I had hit the slough at exactly the wrong time this day, at the bottom of the Columbia's afternoon tide turning. So I had to paddle even harder to get back. I now know to look up currents for any body of water that is not a lake, and see what's going on the day I want to head out. Not the relaxing photo montage I had hoped for, but lesson learned.
I did hear those bells again on my way back and had to pull over to check it out. I clambered up a small hillside of nettles and tall grasses and popped out of the trees onto a dirt road. In front of me was a bright sunshine drenched field with hundreds of goats grazing. I didn't know who was more surprised, me or the goats. The white one closest to me kind of sidled over after a moment and gave me a polite and gentle stare, as if to say, "and who might you be?" This was #497, and I took several pictures of her, as well as a few others. I love goats, both their characters and their social interaction. Was a lovely happenstance moment, and I could have spent much longer there, but I was tired and still had a ways to paddle back.
this one had the bell around her neck..
love her expression and that grin
miss #497 was the sweetest little goat ever. love her
Was I ever glad to see the bridges approaching that signaled I was almost home. I did get a few pictures of a great blue heron and some swallows nests before I pulled out, so that was timely. I grabbed everything except the boat and took it up to the truck, setting up the tarp and foam blocks and tie downs in the back. I went back down to the shore and my stomach fell out as I saw that the kayak was no longer there. No, no, no, no, NO!!! But sure enough, it was drifting at a fast clip with the current back the way I'd just come. I stared like a deer in the headlights for two seconds, then raced back to the truck, grabbed the two halves of my paddle, raced back to the shore, threw my keys on the sand so I wouldn't lose them in the water, and dove in the channel. I was already exhausted and having to hold the paddle forced me to do little more than a dog paddle. I could tell right away I wasn't going to catch it at this speed, so I looked over and saw the vertical bank nearest me had become a reinforced hillside of drainage boulders, so I swam over and pulled myself up and clambered over them as fast as I could.. Was actually making time now, and saw I would catch the boat, so instead concentrated on not breaking my ankles. I got within maybe 15 feet of the kayak before the the rocky shoreline was about to turn back into a vertical dirt bank, but I was close enough and flung myself back into the water, swam over and grabbed it. I was so tired and freaked out and basically just cursed the poor boat for a minute. I think I might have even hit it? I was just mad at myself of course, and the takeaway here kids, is ALWAYS PULL YOUR BOAT ALL OF THE WAY OUT OF THE WATER.
great blue heron
swallows nests
exiting great blue
June 30, 2015 Kayak Part 3
I have recently discovered a wonderful new nature spot out on Sauvie Island, the dirt road extension of Sauvie Island Road, also referred to as Steelman Road. This area is closed from October 1st to April 15th of every year, somewhat ironically, for hunting as well as bird and mammal nesting. The area along the channel right before the Fish and Wildlife gate is a popular fishing spot and I had stopped there in the past, and seen the closed gate. It just didn't occur to me to check it again until this spring. I've been a longtime fan of Oak Island Road's nature trail, which has the same closure schedule, but in recent years its popularity has been growing and it has begun to feel crowded to me. This is in part thanks to the Sauvie Island website showing it as a trail. Steelman Road is pretty much for fisherman and hunters and locals only and I hope that anyone who reads this and decides to check out this spot will graciously keep mum about it. Just found a hashtag yesterday on facebook: #stopmovingtoportland, and I can sooo relate.. I've literally rearranged my work week to have my weekend on Monday and Tuesday because anywhere I used to go is now overrun on the weekends with eager outdoors enthusiasts, and their three dogs apiece. Bless the dogs, it's not their fault. And I can't get angry at people for wanting to enjoy the outdoors, I mean isn't that pretty much what I live for? At the same time, I have to say I really enjoy solitude and that's becoming a rare commodity around Portland these days.
So I set out for the very end of the road, where there is a roundabout with a couple choice spots right on the very pretty Gilbert River, which is a tributary that splits off of the Multnomah Channel. The embankment is about 5 ft high but I found a little canyon with a couple tree root steps, and a tiny little mud shelf big enough to hold the kayak once you've lowered it down. I got all my gear and was paddling about ten minutes later. There was one other family just a bit up the river, enjoying a picnic and fishing in a shady spot. The current was against me but it wasn't stiff, so I was able to make time and as the river opened out, I stuck to the east side where there was still some shade under the trees.
There were a lot of eagles on the river, both immature and full grown, and they seemed a bit surprised by my presence. I don't think a lot of people travel on this waterway. Saw some great blue herons but not as many as I saw on the slough, and no kingfishers on my way in. Also saw some goldfinches but no good pictures.
immature bald eagle
bald eagle
I paddled to the curve in the river and saw that it was at the fishing pier I'd driven to before, but no one was out yet. Another long straight stretch, and then the river veered slightly to the right before emptying out onto Sturgeon Lake. The current became very strong in the middle at this point, so instead of fighting it, I paddled to the north bank and was rewarded with a mature bald eagle hanging out. I surreptitiously snapped some shots, then headed out to the lake to the waiting flock of American White Pelicans. I could see Mt. St Helens to the north through the haze, and the lake was breezy and a bit choppy. It is pretty shallow, and I could see a family of eagles standing out in the water in the center. Pelicans were everywhere, on snags, and little islands, with a big group just east of the Wash on a sand bar near the shore. The Wash is the area where the Gilbert River connects with the lake and then continues to the south. The currents are fun and choppy and not particularly dangerous as the water is shallow. I casually drifted towards the other arm of the river and then snuck up behind the big part of the flock right behind a nice green hill of long grass. I sat there for the better part of an hour, looking through the binocs, laughing at the pelicans and snapping pictures. I gradually edged a little closer and they weren't fazed at all. Three eagles tried to sneak up from behind on the lake side and were chased away by a handful of Caspian Terns who just weren't having it. Go terns! They must have decided I didn't represent a threat which was a good thing, being scalped by a tern is not my idea of fun.
american white pelicans
mt st helens showcase
Terns kicking ass like they do
Hilarious pelican antics; they were so chill
I'd had my fill and wanted to try to take advantage of the river current back before it turned, so paddled through the wash into the fast current. It was great to be travelling without paddling! My little boat doesn't track the best, so I still have to steer or I quickly wind up perpendicular to the current, but all in all, she's a winner. I spent less than $500 on the kayak and all the gear to be hanging out a couple feet from eagles and pelicans and enjoying my lunch drifting down a beautiful river? I got a serious bargain. I was able to take more pictures on the way back and even managed to catch a kingfisher and some swallows as well as an irritated heron. I was passed by two power boats heading out to the lake from the channel, and got to ride some waves which was fun. I got back to my bank and decided to head a bit further the other way. I didn't make it to the channel before I got tired and decided to head back, but I don't think it was much further.
great blue heron giving me a piece of his mind
belted kingfisher
bald eagle
tree swallow
Pulled the kayak all the way out of the water this time, and loaded everything up. Some people arrived right then and were happy to claim my spot since I was taking off. I pulled up to the bathroom at the next bend in the road, and snapped some pictures of some flowers and some turkey vultures that popped over the trees. It was a great day and I know I'll be back to paddle the Gilbert river again soon. If you check it out and love it too, remember to keep this spot hush, please..
turkey vultures
just so you know, you can click on any of the pictures to see it larger.. happy trails!
