 March comes in like a lion, but remember, last Friday? It was a sunny, spring-like day. Not quite spring, but close. A sneak peek. I caught the 411W bus to Deception Pass and stepped off at the store. I strolled by the gas station, passed through the parking lot, and slipped out the back into Quarry Pond campground. Like stepping through the wardrobe, I felt like I’d entered a different world. With just 90 minutes before I needed to catch the bus back, I walked steadily to the left until I came to the trailhead and entered the forest. Tall trees shaded the sun as I followed the signs to the Discovery Trail. I noted that this was also the route of the Pacific Northwest Trail between the coast of Washington and Glacier National Park in Montana. But today, I had a less ambitious goal, to climb to the summit of Goose Rock. There are different routes one can take to Goose Rock. The Perimeter Trail follows the north edge of Cornet Bay and then spirals up the north side. But I took the Discovery Trail and then turned on to the Summit trail for a more direct approach. I’d been in hibernation all winter and needed some exercise. The steep ascent got my heart thumping. I stuffed my hat into my pack, tied my coat around my waist and kept climbing. In a half mile I realized the trail had leveled off a bit. I was almost there. Suddenly the canopy opened up and there was blue sky overhead! A split rail fence appeared trailing off to the east. A couple sat not far away, so I turned west and had the rocky summit to myself. Sitting to catch my breath, I sipped some water and stuck my face into the sun. To the east the icy summits of the Cascades rose above the clouds. To the south the highway snaked toward town. To the west I watched a boat approach little Deception Island. And to the northwest another small boat was passing Sares Head in Sharp Park. In the distance the San Juan Islands and Olympic Mountains beckoned and teased. Such a beautiful day, I had to remind myself it was still February! A cool breeze reminded me it’s not quite spring. After a while, more hikers arrived. I smiled and took my leave to give them the same solitary summit experience I’d enjoyed. What goes up, must come down. I reversed my route and was soon descending the steep slopes I’d so recently climbed thinking, “Why do I always forget my walking stick?” I passed a few hikers, one with a nice dog. We stopped for a moment to chat and then journeyed on. My walk down went much faster than my climb up. Soon I was back on the gentle Discovery Trail walking at an easy pace. I noticed subtle things along the way, shelf fungus on a rotting stump, a snag full of woodpecker holes, the constant songs of kinglets and chickadees around me. I looked for skunk cabbage but didn’t see any… yet. I still had plenty of time to get an ice cream at the store before going to the bus stop at Cornet Bay Road. Maribeth For a park map click here:  Directions: Highway 20 goes over Deception Pass Bridge between Whidbey and Fidalgo Islands. Just south of the bridge park your vehicle at the park office, or get off the bus at the store, and find the well-marked trails just off the back of the parking lot. You may also park at the south side of the bridge with a Discover Pass.
By Bus or Bike: A good way to avoid the summer traffic jams is to take the bus. Island Transit offers fare free bus service 7 days a week. The 411W Northbound bus stops at the store just south of Deception Pass bridge. You can catch this bus at Harbor Station in Oak Harbor. Or catch the southbound 411W at March’s Point park and ride near Anacortes. The southbound bus stops at the Cornet Bay intersection, so cross at the light and walk to the store to start your hike from the back of the parking lot. See the bus schedule here: Two bikes can fit on a bus bike rack on a first come first served basis. Cyclists use this route riding on the shoulder, but please walk your bike if you’re crossing over Deception Pass Bridge. Wear bright clothes and use your lights as this is a heavily traveled road. Mobility: The Quarry Pond campground has a picnic table at the pond and paved roads through the campground. The Discovery Trail is gentle, but the Summit Trail is steep with roots and rocks. A hiking stick is helpful.
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 Hi, my name is Ramsey. I’m five. My mom Taffy is one of Grandpa Jack’s children. We visited a place called Rosario Beach this weekend. Have you been there? This was my first time. We walked down a grassy path past a building made of stones and logs. Through its windows I could see a beach, and water, and far-away mountains. The trail went around some trees, and I found a big bay on the left, and a small bay on the right opening to very big waters. I scrambled down a trail to the gravelly beach and sat on a log to shake a rock out of my boot. Then I ran down to the edge of the water, picked up rocks, and threw them as far as I could into the bay. One was too big for me, so Grandpa Jack helped me throw it in. It made a huge splash! Next to the beach we found a rocky, slippery place. I had never seen a place like this. It had little sharp white things on the rocks that cut a boy who fell on them, but they gave me a good grip to walk on. Grandpa called them barnacles; we could hear them make little clicking noises as they closed their shells. Little plants popped as I walked on them. I tried to walk just on the bare rocks instead. We found a big pool of water. Grandma Kath showed me a fish swimming in the pool, and little legs walking in a snail shell, and a little crab walking sideways, and several flowers that she said were not plants but animals, called amemonies. To get off the beach we scrambled up steep slippery rocks, with my mom holding my hand, then climbed higher; all I could see was a big mountain above us. We used our hands and feet to climb carefully, and soon we were at the top. We did it! Grandpa told me there was a high cliff with a sharp edge up here, and I should be careful. My mom took my hand, and we walked near the cliff edge but not too close. My mom took a selfie of us. We could see big white birds flying below us! We were above the birds! The sea spread out beyond us all the way to the edge of the earth. We crossed the top of the mountain and walked down an easy trail on the other side, back into the trees. At the bottom of the woods we met a big, tall woman looking at us with big eyes on both sides of her head! She had fish and kelp and clams and crabs crawling on one side of her. She must have lived in the water or something. Grandpa Jack said she had an important story to tell us. I found a wooden walkway leading down to a dock in the bay. I skipped along the boards, a fun way to get to the water, but I wanted rocks to throw, so we went up to get a handful and back down again to throw them off the dock. Then we walked back up the dock and down a trail onto the other beach where I could throw more rocks. I found tiny bug things crawling on the rocks. They scared me, but Grandpa Jack said they don’t bite kids like me. Eventually Mom said we had to leave now. I could throw two more rocks and then it would be time to go. I asked if I could throw six. She said five. I said a million. She smiled and said just five. I threw them slowly. We clambered up to the gravel trail, looked back at the beaches, the trees, the tall wooden woman, and the mountain, then walked reluctantly back to our car. Directions: Just north of the Deception Pass Bridge, turn onto Rosario Road. In 0.7 miles angle left onto Cougar Gap Road, then left onto Rosario Beach Road and drive to the parking lot at the end.
By bike: Rosario Road is narrow and hilly with a small shoulder but with minimal traffic. Mobility: The gravel trail from the parking area to the isthmus is wide, slightly downhill, and firmly packed. The trails on the head itself vary from gentle with good tread to very steep and rocky. Note: please avoid stepping on plants and animals in the tidepools, as best you can. In the busy season, the tidepools have a rope pathway to follow. At other times, do the best you can, and leave every critter at peace in its own home.  As I walked the old Farm Loop trail I noticed how it had narrowed since we built it back in the 1980’s. It was once an old road where you could walk side by side with a friend. Now it seemed little wider than a deer trail. The forest closes in. Trees fall in storms and open the canopy to light. New growth begins. There was a variety of trees, alder, cedar, Doug fir, grand fir, maple, even yew. And the birds! Flickers, chickadees, song sparrows, nuthatches, towhees and pine siskins flying among the tree tops. Water trickled nearby in a constant song of its own. A woodpecker drummed on a tall snag, but which one? The forest was crowded with dead wood still standing and on the ground, providing homes, offering nutrients, turning slowly into soil. Wet ferns were steaming in the morning sun. I emerged from the forest into a meadow framed by small cabins and followed the road toward the farmhouse. A Finnish family built the log sauna first and lived there while they built the farmhouse well over a century ago. They cleared and farmed the land. Remnants of those times remain in some outbuildings where tools and livestock were kept, but the only thing constant is change. That chapter came to an end and the next one began with Fritz and Vivienne Hull who bought the property in the 1970’s. Envisioning a learning center they attracted a community of young people who helped restore the farmhouse and construct new buildings, bring more people and programs, develop gardens and trails. I was among them back in the day. The Whidbey Institute has a new staff now who manage the programs and care for the land. I passed the cabin where I once lived. Though I saw a few people walking about, it was calm and quiet which left plenty of room for my reminiscences. I passed the farmhouse and Thomas Berry Hall and dipped into the forest again crossing a bridge on the trail to Granny’s, a guest house a short walk away. I helped build this trail, too. Climbing through the woods I arrived at Granny’s which used to have a view of the Olympics, but now, was closed in by trees. I rested in a chair on the deck, had a snack and indulged in recollections. “Time to move on,” I thought, and launched into unfamiliar territory on trails I’d never tread. I climbed over the hill toward the Waldorf School, took a turn down the road and came to a sign pointing to the Story House and Legacy Forest. On my way up the road, I was met by a golf cart. Timothy recognized me and stopped to give me a hug. He’d grown up here and I’d known him since he was a boy. It was like time travel to see him there again, still. He buzzed off in his little cart and I continued my walk. The map on the kiosk was very helpful and I took a photo with my phone. I took the Upper Loop trail, passing a glacial erratic about the size of a reclining elephant. On I went through avenues of evergreen huckleberry and tall trees. The trail descended farther than I would have liked and then climbed again to make the loop. It got my heart pumping. At the South Junction I made a turn toward the Story House and its open clearing. I sat outside on a bench taking in the quiet, listening for birds, sipping water, before heading back to the present and my car parked down on Memory Lane. Maribeth The Whidbey Institute has about 4 miles of trails on over 100 acres of privately owned land. The public is welcome to use the trails during the day but please don’t disturb the buildings or programs and leave your dog at home. For a map click here Directions: From Hwy 525 at Ken's Korner (3 miles from the Clinton Ferry) turn south onto Cultus Bay Road. In 3/4 of a mile turn right on to Campbell Road. Just over the hill turn left on Old Pietila Road. Park at the bottom of the hill. A trailhead and kiosk are in the SW corner of the lower parking lot.
By Bike or Bus: The nearest bus stop is at Hwy 525 and Cultus Bay Road over a mile away. These are hilly roads with moderate traffic on Cultus Bay Road. Please wear bright clothes and use lights when riding a bike on the road. Mobility: The Farm Loop trail is fairly level but narrow and there are some roots and dips. The other trails are more hilly.  Last Saturday I gave a presentation at Sound Waters University about tides, how to understand them and live alongside them in the Salish Sea. Maribeth Crandell met us afterwards for lunch at Callen's – the salmon BLT is superb, by the way. With full bellies in need of a hike we drove to Long Point east of Coupeville. Picture a classic February beach scene on Penn Cove: gray clouds above a gray beach along flat gray waters – not even wavelets on the beach, just gentle lapping. You could almost watch the tide receding from the shoreline; little else moved. Oystercatchers hung out with gulls on the tip of Long Point. A seal photobombed some goldeneyes paddling nearby. A raft of scoters swam together just offshore, then dove underwater one by one, reemerged one by one, then spooked one by one and flew a hundred yards away. To the east, the empty waters of Saratoga Passage mirrored the pale gray watercolor of clouds hanging like a formless diffuse wash. To the West, Penn Cove disappeared into the distance, the Wharf building the only object protruding into the grayness. We walked the beach, throwing a ball for Murphy who raced after it like a terrier until he eventually tired of the game and just walked the beach alongside us. Conversation flowed between Kath and Maribeth; I wandered in and out of the conversation and along the tideline with the shells and shorecrabs, lost in a reverie of timelessness.  When I was a child, my brother and I would wander down to North Beach from our house near Ballard. We'd play at the water's edge, absorbing the spirit of the Salish Sea, its gray skies, its gray water, its endless lapping of waves. The haunting calls of grebes and gulls became ingrained in our memories as our version of a lullaby. We came to know the flow of the sea, the rise and fall of the tides, the vastness of the waters; Whidbey and the Olympics lay sharply etched beyond us on sunny days and hidden from all but our imaginations when clouds hung low and gray. We knew they were still there; their spirit hung with us as our little legs wandered the shoreline, alone with the elements, becoming a part of them and they a part of us. Years later we would come back here to find crabs on still winter nights at low tide or catch salmon from our wooden skiff on the open water. I would have my first kiss here late one evening as a gentle rain fell on the beach. Walking west from Long Point this Saturday, I sensed the same elements playing in my mind, calling through the years. The decades melted into eternity as my wife and my good friend and co-author wandered along together sharing stories. Gulls hunted the shoreline for shellfish; a grebe dove offshore. Beach cabins blended with driftwood, wood smoke drifting among them. A burial ground of native peoples is here somewhere near the point, its exact location lost through the decades, but the ancestral spirits still at home. I could hear echoes of tribal children walking these same beaches alongside us, the children growing into women who gathered shellfish along the shoreline, and men who paddled the calm waters finding salmon and sustenance, smoke from their longhouse fires drifting along the beach and melting into the firs on the hill above. If you squint, you can almost see them in the background in the photos of our hike together this week. Halfway to Coupeville, the beach is almost totally blocked by fallen trees from the slumped-over hillside. We turned around and headed back to our car parked at Long Point. Murphy didn’t want to get back in the car. I felt the same way. The waterfowl, the gulls and the grebe, the seal and the spirits remained there in the gray. jack Directions: From the stoplight on Highway 20 in Coupeville, drive 2.7 miles south and turn left onto Morris Road. Take a quick left onto Parker Road, drive 1.3 miles and turn right on Portal Place. Drive a short distance to Marine Drive and turn left; follow it to the end.
By Bike: The last mile is a quiet roadway with narrow shoulders, and a quick drop down to the water. What goes down must come back up. Mobility: You can drive to the gravel parking lot at Long Point and enjoy the view from there. The beach extends west or south from the point, with a gravel and shell-strewn beach. A high tide takes away the beach, and the uplands are private property in both directions. |
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Maribeth Crandell has been a hiking guide in the Pacific NW for over 20 years. She's lived on Whidbey and Fidalgo Island for decades. As a frequent bus rider she easily makes connections between trails and transit. Archives by date
January 2025
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