Monday, August 13, 2018

B.C.'s Sunshine Coast: Sailing through Paradise

This is the first of two posts about a recent trip on a sailboat along the Sunshine Coast north of Vancouver, British Columbia.

When my friend Mark invited friends and family to join him during a six-week sailing sabbatical in the Salish Sea, I jumped at the chancea bucket list opportunity must be seized. 

We decided I would join him at Pender Harbour on the Sunshine Coast north of Vancouver, B.C., and sail up into Princess Louisa Inlet, which several people had told Mark was a must-see. It's the deepest fjord in BC and sounded like a perfect destination.

On a Friday morning, I left Seattle around 6:30 a.m. and breezed through the border crossing just east of Blaine, Washington, with absolutely no waiting line. This is rare along the I-5 corridor.

After taking the ferry from Horseshoe Bay across Howe Sound, it was a scenic drive up the increasingly developed but still relatively rural Sunshine Coast (Highway 101). By mid-afternoon I arrived at John Henry's Resort & Marina on Hospital Bay in Pender Harbour and was immediately charmed by this cozy and picturesque little cove.



It didn't take me long to find Mark. After three weeks of sailing/cruising already, he looked tanned and relaxed. I found myself unwinding pretty quickly too.

Dinner at Cafe at John Henry's (attached to the marina's grocery store/gift shop) was excellent. Beforehand we started with (nonalcoholic) drinks on the deck. My glass of iced chamomile tea, which is generally a pretty bland drink, was artfully crafted by the bartender with a lemon twist and a hint of pink.

Rice, housemade hummus, and roast/fresh veggie bowl, Cafe at John Henry's
My first night on the boat I was quickly lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking on the water. Both Mark and I awoke just before the alarm was set to go off at 5 a.m. An early start was the plan for our long journey (48 miles) up Jervis Inlet to Princess Louisa Inlet.

Our route, starting from near Irvine's Landing. Map from Princess Louisa International Society website
I love the promise of early morning, when the new day is slowly emerging. I also love going places I've never been before. By 6:15 we set off motoring towards the Malaspina Strait with anticipation for the day ahead.



For you sailors, we were traveling on Mark's ~ 40-foot-long wooden sailboat Aeolus, which was built in the 1930s. It's a lovely old boatnot fancy but equipped with a modern electronic navigation system.                          

After we cleared Pender Harbour, Aeolus made a U-turn into Agamemnon Channel en route to Jervis Inlet. While the sun had already risen, it hadn't fully crested many of the hills and ridges, so we passed in and out of shade for a while.


Ahead, jagged peaks of the 800-mile-long Coast Range of BC looked dramatic on the distant skyline. Later in the day we were on the other side of that pointy peak in the middle of the photo below.



An hour or so into our cruise, a BC ferry passed in front of us where we merged into Jervis Inlet. Years ago I took that ferry heading southbound, and I remember being thrilled at the juxtaposition of mountains and sea together.

Dead ahead at the northern end of the first long reach (Prince of Wales) were some impressively craggy peaks. On the left are the Marlborough Heights, and the pointed peak on the right is Mt. Churchill. With stunning high granite walls, these are a destination for climbers.
 



And so we continued past mountainsides blanketed in evergreen forests, evidence of past clearcuts very visible in places. We curved around the Marlborough Heights into the Princess Royal Reach, the longest reach. 

Midday we crossed over to the western side of the reach to see a pictograph painted on a rockface about 20 feet above the tideline. Apparently there are many along the inlet and nearby channels. Centuries before loggers, trappers, and boaters began flocking to this area, the Sechelt Indian Band (shíshálh Nation) called these waters their home.




With the wind picking up and plenty of time to reach our destination, Mark decided to try sailing with the jib (front) and mizzen (back) sails. It was an especially peaceful 4 hours with just the sound of wind catching in the sails and light waves slapping against the hull.


"This ship is rat-infested." I turned around quickly to see Mark holding up two cute stuffed rats. I think his daughter Lena had something to do with these little guys. The skipper is not without humor. :)



One thing that struck me as we cruised past rugged high peaks is how evident it is that their glaciers have receded. It's obvious where they used to extend farther downslope. When I've traveled around the Coast Range in years past, the glaciers were much more prominent. It's hard to observe this change because the overall health of the mountain and coastal ecosystem is partially dependent on seasonal glacial melt.

But I digress.


Mark timed our arrival at the entrance to Princess Louisa Inlet to coincide with slack tide around 5:45 p.m. Water can run so fast through the very narrow entrance that British Captain George Vancouver's expedition here in the 1790s noted this as a river running into Jervis Inlet instead of an entrance into another inlet.

Entrance to Princess Louisa Inlet, the small gap shown above.
Aeolus passed easily through the gap, past the Malibu compound (a longtime Young Life camp for teenagers). And then we entered what felt and looked like an enchanted cathedral of mountains and sea...

Check back for the next post about Princess Louisa Inlet. (Too many photos to cram into one post.)


Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! 

In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.
 
When You Go
Late July/early-mid August is peak season for boating along the Sunshine Coast and up into the inlets, with the mildest weather. While I was on a private boat, there are many tours and groups that take people up this way. Thankfully no big cruise ships yet (I don't think). 










Friday, July 13, 2018

Why do we hike?

Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.”
– John Muir

Why do we hike?
Such a big question. Many answers.

For me...it's complicated. But also really very simple. For starters, it makes me feel the most alive, walking in nature. It's what we evolved to do, physically. We're a species of bipedal walkers.

I began hiking as a kid here in the Pacific Northwest, before this region was "discovered" and our trails, even the most popular today, were relatively quieteven on summer weekends.

It was glorious. It still is, but hiking some of my old favorites with a steady stream of other hikers, music emanating from some hip belts, is a different experience. 


 I partly hike for the solitude in nature. To that end, I've started going farther afield from metro Seattle/Portland. I go earlier, I go in the rain, I go midweek if I can. And I've started being more private about where I go.


About 10 years ago, I thought hiking/backcountry travel might be dying out because I didn't see many teens or twentysomethings out there. Or a just a few would start up the trail late, as we were coming back down.

Not today. (Thank you Instagram and social media.)


I'm happy the next generation is getting outside and appreciating the natural beauty all around. I know some admirable Millennials who are giving back, doing trail maintenance, fighting for environmental causes, and working to save special places. 


Because that's partly what hiking is all about, too. Reveling in, protecting, and fighting for special places.


At a basic level, I hike for my mental and physical health. I also say that about swimming, bicycling, kayaking, skiing...but it's true. Being active outdoors is simply good for our bodies and minds.  

The Japanese go "forest bathing"; they even have a name for itshinrin-yoku. In the past several decades there have been many scientific studies that demonstrate the healing effects of simply being in wild and natural areas. 

 
But then, we really didn't need scientific studies to confirm that. At least I didn't.



And then there's the camaraderie. Some of my closest bonds and best friendships were forged while stuck in tents during downpours while backpacking. Or simply walking, talking, laughing, and being quiet together in beautiful, natural places.



So there you have it. For me it's about health, friendship, discovery, solitude, appreciation, the spiritual value of the "church of nature," exercise, and just plain fun. And a greater feeling of connection to this amazing planet when I'm outdoors. As I'm moving on in years, this also:

We don’t stop hiking because we grow old –
We grow old because we stop hiking.
Finis Mitchel

How about you? Why do you hike? I'd love to hear in a comment below.

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! 

In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.
When You Go
Well, although I didn't caption the photos, you probably recognize some of these places and trails. They're all in Oregon and Washington, mostly in the Cascades, but not every shot. How many places/trails do you recognize?

Sunday, June 24, 2018

Hiking Central Washington: Seeking and Finding Solitude

On a blustery June day, hiking up through a lonely canyon to a ridgetop in central Washington provided us a measure of much-needed quiet time. Most trails with great views within an hour or two of Portland and Seattle don't offer much solitude anymore, even on week days.

 But in hiking through Black Canyon up to the crest of Umtanum Ridge, we got a taste of the old Northwest, when hikers were relatively few and far between. (Yea, I'm old enough to remember the days when you could backpack a week on the Pacific Crest Trail in late summer and see only a few other hikers.)

En route to the trailhead, we missed our turnoff and drove several miles beyond it on our first try. But we got to see more of the bucolic and historic Wenas Valley as a result.  

Despite being born in Seattle and raised in both Washington and Oregon, there are many places and trails left for me to explore in the region. So I was happy to see some new (to me) landscapes.


Wenas Valley
After backtracking, we managed to find the turnoff and proceeded very slowly up the bumpy, rough dirt road to a gate, where I had to hop out and unlatch, open, and close it after we passed through. In about another half mile, we reached road's end.

As we were lacing up trail runners and sorting out our packs, another vehicle rolled in and parked nearby. That father and daughter were the only other hikers on the trail, and we didn't cross paths. 


View back down valley from trailhead parking.
This being rattlesnake country, I carefully watched my step as we began walking up the narrow Black Canyon on an old road bed.




While it looks fairly arid, the bunchgrass, sage, cottonwoods, and abundant wildflowers were rich with a late spring green. Add the chorus of crickets, quaking aspen leaves, wildflowers, and a myriad of colors and sizes of butterflies, and it felt almost enchanted.




I wish I knew my native plants and wildlife better, so I could name everything I saw. I'm basically a "greatest hits" naturalist. But I did recognize the vivid pink wild Nootka roses as we ascended higher along the mellow grade now blocked to vehicles.


About a mile up the trail, we passed a vibrant green oasis beside a stream, where a dilapidated old log cabin still stood in a grove of quaking aspen.


At the top end of the canyon, where it widens out amongst sparse ponderosa pine forests, a three-wheeler ATV (all-terrain vehicle) came down the trail and turned up a fork in the road we didn't take. We didn't see or hear them again.

As we walked upward along the dirt road, I marveled at the lush and healthy pine forest, with almost no sign of the dreaded pine beetle damage that's killing forests all over the western U.S. (Yes kids, climate change is happening and wreaking havoc in ecosystems around the world.)


Along the way we passed a few forks in the gravel road/trail, but stayed right each time. When we topped out on the ridge, we were treated to views of the Kittitas Valley below, the jagged granite Stuart Range beyond, and miles of forest and range land. Unfortunately clouds obscured views of Mt. Rainer and Adams.

Stuart Range in the distance
 
Kittitas Valley
One could travel miles via foot or vehicle along the Untanum Ridge, which stretches 55 miles from the Cascades into eastern Washington. 


I was surprised to see the delicate flower pictured below growing on the windswept ridgetop in the dried, cracked soil. If any of you native plant geeks know what this is, I'd love to hear in a comment below.



I spied a coyote dashing through the forest below as we descended. Compared to the rangy coyotes I see around north Seattle, this one had a more brownish, bushy coat. I was very happy not to see any rattlesnakes, which aren't uncommon along this and many trails east of the Cascade crest.

Wind and spits of rain swept through the canyon as we trekked down, flattening the bunchgrass in waves and trembling aspen leaves like thousands of tiny cymbals. It was a visual symphony.



 
Aspen grove

 At about 7 miles roundtrip and an elevation gain of 1,250 feet, this was a good, not-too-strenous workout through lovely, quiet country. By now the wildflowers are likely past their peak and rattlers are probably more prevalent as the heat rises. Hiking guides say this trail is best from April through June, but I'd try it in the fall too when the aspens are turning gold.

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! 

In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.


When You Go

With over 13 miles on dirt road from Ellensburg, overall it took us well over 2 hours drive from north Seattle to the trailhead. We took I-90 east and got off at Exit 109 onto Canyon Road, then turned left just about 1/4 mile onto Umtanum Road, which crossed back under I-90 and wound 22.5 miles to the trailhead  through a gap in Untanum Ridge and on into the Wenas Valley. The turnoff to the trailhead is marked by a big sign with a map for the Wenas Wildlife Area.
A Discover Pass is required to park at the trailhead. 



Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Washington Coast Weekend Getaway: Long Beach Peninsula

Way down at the southwest corner of Washington on the Pacific coast is a lush land with rich coastal estuaries, the proclaimed world's longest beach (although it's really only #8), and a slower pace reminiscent of an earlier era. 

In early June I spent a weekend on the Long Beach Peninsula in a grand old rental home just a 15-minute stroll through scrubby forest and grassland to the ocean. As we drove into the quiet Seaview neighborhood of quaint houses with spacious green lawns and voluptuous rhododendrons, it reminded me of childhood trips to my grandparents' beach home.

But this weekend was no kids trip. It was an annual reunion weekend of high school friends, which eight of us have been doing now for a couple decades.


Home base for the weekend
While we cooked most of our meals instead of sampling the local restaurants and cafes, we did get out and explore. 

A mild, lovely June day with blue skies and wispy clouds overhead greeted us Saturday morning. After one of the longest and best nights of sleep I've had in months, first up was the walk down to the ocean, where a refreshing sea breeze cleared all the sleep webs from my groggy brain. 



On the ocean side of Long Beach Peninsula, you'll see horses and even cars on the beach, except at the north end where it's protected as part of the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. Essentially the peninsula is a big sand bar from sediments washed out of the mouth of the nearby mighty Columbia River. And it's still growing.


Discovery Bicycle Trail along the coastline.
It's hard to get anyone to tear away from the intense catching up going on between eight women, but two friends joined me for an easy hike in the afternoon. 

About 20 minutes drive off the peninsula and northeast along Willapa Bay at the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters is the truly enchanting Willapa Art Trail. This short quarter-mile boardwalk trail through a wetland is scattered with sculptural pieces instead of interpretive signs to educate visitors. 

From the huge salmon carcass at the trail entrance to small bronze frogs and fish in trees, these pieces were created and installed by students from the University of Washington Public Arts Program.


From the art trail, we cut off to the Cutthroat Trail to make it a longer loop (1 mile). This trail heads up steep wooden steps and then meanders through lovely old growth hemlocks (the Washington State Tree) and ferns. 

Along the way we passed numerous interpretive signs showing a footprint and a description of an animal, quizzing us. Do you know what this one is?


After crossing a stream and heading back uphill, we passed a charming brick labyrinth alongside the trail. Of course we had to stop and follow its circuitous route to the middle and back.

On Sunday we weren't quite so lucky with the blue skies, but the cool, damp weather that characterizes the Washington coast much of the time makes it especially green and fertile. Personally I love a good walk in the rain.

And so I headed to the north end of the peninsula to Leadbetter Point State Park to walk along the inner tidelands. No one wanted to tramp in the rain with me, but I'm good with being alone in nature. In fact, I seek it sometimes.




Leadbetter Point Park is as far north as you can drive on the peninsula (which wasn't the case when I spent a Thanksgiving weekend here in the 1990s). When I arrived, only one other vehicle was in the parking lot. I decided to do the 1.2-mile Bay Loop Trail to see both forest and beach.


While the forest is young up here, it's very verdant and healthy, as you can imagine with an average annual rainfall of 76 inches, almost twice that of Seattle and Portland. Pacific storms slam onto the Northwest coast here before heading inland.


When the tide is out, like it was that day, the tideland provides fecund feeding grounds for birds and waterfowl. It's a birder's destination and protected habitat for the seriously cute but endangered snowy plover.

On the way back down peninsula I stopped at Oysterville Sea Farms on Willapa Bay, which I basically stumbled upon. I'm not an oyster fan, but the weathered wooden building with a big deck overlooking the bay invited me on in. Inside were a variety of local specialties besides oysters. I snagged some local smoked salmon, dried cranberries, and a bottle of their dry white wine specially blended to pair with oysters.

I'm a sucker for old cemeteries, and the Oysterville cemetery is definitely worth a stop. Chief Nahcati is buried there, for whom the peninsula town of Nahcotta was named. He is known for befriending the original Europeans settlers who founded Oysterville and showing them the prolific oyster beds on what was then called Shoalwater Bay.


Back in the town of Long Beach, I met up with my g'friends at popular Cottage Bakery on the main touristy business strip. I read later that it's famous for having some of the best doughnuts in the Pacific Northwest, although we just indulged in soup and tea.

Early Monday morning I was on the road by 6:45 a.m. with work obligations back home in Seattle. Instead of heading east to Interstate 5, though, I meandered up the coast along Highway 101 through lovely coastal estuaries. With the soft, misty morning light, I had to stop and snap some shots.



If you've not been along that stretch of highway before, be prepared for a lovely scenic drive as the highway winds through estuaries, across rivers, and past evergreen forests in various stages of regrowth from logging. After an hour of early morning driving, I lucked out by stopping at Elixir Coffee Shop in South Bend, where the high-quality hot tea and still warm, freshly baked cranberry scone were a sweet surprise in such a small town


With much more to do there, we'll be back in 2019, same weekend, unless the inevitable tsunami hits before then. But that's another blog post altogether. I'm already plotting where I'm going to explore next time around. Have you spent much time down there? What do you recommend if so?

Happy trails and thanks for visiting Pacific Northwest Seasons! 

In between blog posts, visit Pacific NW Seasons on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram for more Northwest photos and outdoors news.


When You Go

The Long Beach Peninsula is close to the southern border of Washington along the Columbia River. Check out an area map, directions and travel options here. From Seattle, I drove down I-5 to Olympia and then cut southwest to Grays Harbor and down Highway 101 along the coast (here's my route on Google maps). It took me almost 3.5 hours to drive home to north Seattle on Monday morning with some rush hour traffic (but not that much).

We stayed at the historic Bloomer Mansion in Seaview, available for rent. It was spacious, private, well-stocked, and comfortable for sprawling out.