 Oh-dark-early. After a drenching, all-day rain on Saturday, Sunday was supposed to be sunny, so we rose early. A blush of dawn appeared in the east, but darkness and fog filled our forests and waterways. Fog hid the nearby islands from view as we drove down rain-slickened roads on Fidalgo over to Whidbey. My headlights revealed just enough of the road ahead for us to creep along Zylstra Road, arriving at the Del Fairfax trailhead long before daybreak. I wanted to experience it at first light while wildlife still reigned. I had promised Kath a Starbucks before we got started, so now with her cup in hand, we slipped through the gate and into the Reserve. This was Kath’s first visit here. Maybe yours too. Walking along the soft forest trail, a Varied thrush, a Hutton’s vireo, flickers, kinglets, chickadees, Pac wrens, and song sparrows sang, warbled, and twittered … and a rooster crowed a wake-up call. Not a bad welcoming as we walked toward the meadow. I let Kath lead as we emerged from the dark forest into the bright opening of the field. She sensed the magic before we even got there. The meadow lay silent before us, sacred and serene. Veiled in the mist, three ghost-gray deer dawdled along the opposite side of the field and then out of sight. Kath began walking to the west, and in a minute or two, also faded into the mist. We rambled along the perimeter trail while the fog flowed around us on its silent haunches, muting the universe into our own private world, a separate peace. Trees emerged as fuzzy silhouettes in muted shades of gray until we got beneath them, and then they faded away again as we moved beyond. Branches and cobwebs lay speckled with brightly shining diamonds. Making the full circle around the meadow, we observed and absorbed the hidden details often overlooked on a bright sunny day. Fog focuses our attention on what is before us, near at hand, within our reach. The rush of the highways, the busy of business, the past, the future, indeed the entire rest of the world are all beyond our view and our worries right now. All that matters is just this meadow, moist and mysterious, shadowy, and intimate. Walking through the forested shadows and rolling grasslands, this place reminds us of the complex simplicity that surrounds us, the life that can be ours. Just like the singular sparrows of the woodlands, and the lilies of the field, “the least of these,” anonymous, humble, seeking not their own glory, yet gentle and glorious in their boundless living and giving. Just like George Fairfax himself, who owned and treasured this land, and donated it in memory of his late wife Del. He wanted everyone to experience the quiet beauty of this secret garden, this place of softness and solitude, this pocket preserved for us all to come and be at peace. We returned home as the fog was fading, the morning breaking, the sun rising, blue skies blazing, and yes, breakfast waiting. jack https://www.wclt.org/projects/del-fairfax-preserve/ (the official background) https://whidbeycamanoislands.com/our-media/del-fairfax-preserve/ (a one minute movie) Directions: From Highway 20 in Oak Harbor take Swantown Road and then an immediate left onto Fort Nugent Road, then drive two miles and turn left onto Zylstra Road. Or from Highway 20 4.3 miles north of Coupeville, turn left onto Zylstra Road and drive 3 miles north. Park across the street from the small fire station.
By bike: The roads in this area once you leave Highway 20 are rolling and relatively quiet, but with limited shoulders. Mobility: The forested part of the trail is wide and firm, mostly dirt and mostly flat. The meadow trail is a mixture of grass and dirt, fairly wide but also lumpy and rolling. Please stay on the trail around the meadow, and keep your pets leashed at all times.
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 “It’s your birthday. Where do you want to go?” “Have you ever been to the trails between Lone Lake and Goss Lake Roads, across from Putney Woods?” “No, I’ve never been there. Have you?” “Not yet. Let’s go.” In the words of Winnie the Pooh, it will be an explore. So we packed the dog into the car. She always wants to go and doesn’t seem to care where. It was a short drive. Then while Lee got the dog and her accoutrements ready, I took a photo of the map on the kiosk. Then we crossed Lone Lake Road, stepped between the concrete barriers and dipped into the trees on the other side. The sun slanted low that late afternoon and the thick woods softened the glow still more. Tall hedges of salal and evergreen huckleberry closed in on the narrow trail. Lee said, “This would be a good place to bring my mountain bike!” The idea of meeting a biker on this narrow trail filled me with dread. The only time I’d run into problems on any of the trails on Whidbey was when I encountered four people on mountain bikes zooming down the trails in Putney Woods. Fortunately, I heard them coming. “Whoo hoooo!” they called loud and clear. I had just enough time to step off the trail between tall shrubs before they went whizzing by. Each in turn caught of glimpse of me standing in the bushes as they passed and said, “OH!” I could only imagine what might happen when they came upon the equestrians I had passed earlier, or the man with his small daughter. I cautioned Lee about mountain biking where there is so little visibility. Then we came upon the moguls. Apparently others felt as Lee did, that this would be a good place for mountain biking! Lee told me some people put bells on their bikes to warn people ahead. “Like bear bells,” she said. Really? We followed the Mistletoe Loop around to the far side and then turned onto the trail out toward Goss Lake Road. The forest opened up with knee high sword ferns instead of head high salal as we approached the end. We stepped out onto the road across from a street sign that read Traverse. Concrete blocks also marked this entrance. We turned and re-entered the woodland. This was an interesting explore. Back at the Mistletoe Loop we turned south and continued hiking back toward Lone Lake Road. Soft pine trees brushed the brilliant blue sky as an eagle circled lazily overhead. Tree tops sang with dozens of tweeters, chickadee dee dee. We met a couple who stopped to admire Lee’s dog before they passed on. In about an hour we had finished and met just one other hiker setting out as our walk came to an end. There are so many trails at Putney Woods and they connect to trails at Metcalf Woods and Saratoga Woods. You could probably walk all day from one to the other and back if you wanted. Most of them are well marked and well maintained with only a few muddy spots thanks to a crew of volunteers. So many people use these trails, on foot, on horseback and on bikes. If we keep that in mind, we might all be able to enjoy them without mishap and celebrate many more birthdays to come. “Whoo hoooooo!” Maribeth Take a photo of the map at the kiosk before you set out on the trails.  Directions: From Hwy 525 at Bayview turn north toward Langley on Bayview Road 1.8 miles. Then turn left onto Andreason Road. At the next stop sign turn right on Lone Lake Road. In about a mile you'll see the parking lot on the right. The trailhead to this section is across Lone Lake Road.
By Bus and Bike: The closest bus stop is at the Bayview Park and Ride at Hwy 525. Two bikes fit on a bus bike rack on a first come first served basis. Bayview Road is fairly level, has wide shoulders and slower speeds. Andreason and Lone Lake Roads have less traffic. Please wear bright clothes and use lights when riding with traffic. Mobility: This trail is mostly level with few roots and rocks but very narrow. Watch out for mountain bikers, and equestrians.  Quiet. That is the first thing I notice every time I step off the Guemes Island ferry. The island is quiet. Kath, Murphy, and I walked west from the ferry a mile and a half along nearly deserted roadways to Dog Woods Park. An occasional car would go by, the driver offering a friendly wave to us as they passed. Then there would be silence. Not a sound to be heard, except maybe the song of a sparrow in a field, or – just silence, the silence of wide-open skies, rural meadows, and shadowed woodlands. Entering Dog Woods, we saw that many improvements have occurred since our last visit a year ago. A bulletin board welcomed us with stories and maps. Parking has been expanded. New trail signs pointed to our hiking route. We let Murphy off his leash and hiked north on Frog Forest Trail. Surprises lay in wait! The owners of this private land have a passion for restoring its natural habitat, and a flair for making explorations fun. A forest of short blue tubes protected new native plantings where weeds once thrived. Lively frog ponds abound alongside the trail. A colorfully painted plaque rested against a large sitting stone. We came to a bench overlooking Waldo Pond and had to sit down and quote Thoreau. I was photographing the reflection of trees in one pond when Kath said “Sasquatch.” Wait, what? You just never know what you might find around here. The slightly raised trail meanders through alders with their buds emerging, then enters cedar groves and fir forests. Hobbit’s Hollow features a tall hemlock standing like an octopus atop a humongous decaying stump. Further on a sign leads to a tree requesting hugs. Not far beyond is a sculpture featuring a gathering* of owls. Read the artist’s name, Leo, then look at the backside for another amazing surprise. I gasped. A pair of Adirondack chairs, arranged as if for a Cialis commercial, awaits hikers in meaningful dells and glades throughout the trails. Sit, rest, meditate, and hold hands if you’re with a partner. These forests host an extremely rare vegetation type, a globally endangered habitat, with paper birch as a dominant species. I leave it to you to find them (check out the pictures below) but most especially I hope you find the birch and cedar wrapped around each other several times like lovers in a Kama sutra pose. There are nearly three miles of trails to explore at Dog Woods, with plenty of pleasures to discover, and new ones in the works, I am sure. The work to restore the woods continues, as does the celebration of creativity and life. Too soon we found ourselves back at the entrance. The joy and good feelings of our experience lingered long after we said goodbye. We strolled back down West Shore Road to Kelly’s Point trailhead, then onto the beach to walk back to the ferry. The gravelly shoreline became sandy, giving Murphy a fun place to chase after a ball. Mergansers and buffleheads dove for food offshore; we passed folks walking dogs, and watched the commercial boat traffic along Guemes Channel, including our ferry heading back to Guemes, which fortunately didn’t arrive until after we had purchased a Nutella cream-cheese chocolate brownie at the Guemes Island Store. Now that’s a good way to end this hike and this story. jack For more information about Dog Woods, visit https://dogwoods.info/ * The next time someone gives me a wink and a nudge and says, “Did you know that a group of owls is called a ‘parliament’?” I’m going to respond, “Did you know that anyone who believes that is part of a ‘gaggle of gullibles’?" Directions: From 6th and I in Anacortes, take the Guemes Ferry to Guemes Island, then walk west along the beach if the tide is right, or along the roads that parallel the beach, to Kelly's Point, then follow West Shore Road up about a quarter mile to Dog Woods.
By bike: Guemes Island is ideal for bicycles, with rolling hills and quiet, friendly roads. Mobility: The trails are mostly flat, and we found very little mud along the raised trails, but they are narrow, and there are occasional roots or other minor obstacles that must be dealt with.  I see bumper stickers in town that say, “Keep Little Cranberry Wild.” Wild – there’s an interesting word. We talk about wildlife and wild lands (as opposed to tame, I guess). What does wild mean? The Wilderness Act defines it as lands “untrammeled by man,” without permanent improvements, where man is a visitor. Is Little Cranberry Lake wild? Is it our intention to have it truly wild? The Anacortes management plan for the ACFL states that the ACFL lands “… will be managed to conserve and enhance their unique environment and wildlife habitat while maintaining recreational opportunities for residents.” Does Little Cranberry do that? With these guidelines, should a kayak launch be added? Should boats or trails be allowed at all, as some have suggested? The lake is not wild or truly natural, as a large earthen dam at its northern end has changed the morphology and lakeshore considerably. But given this intrusion, the wild returns anyway. Kath and I ventured to the north end of the lake after lunch this past Sunday to hike around the lake, as we do once a month or so, and to look for the wild at Cranberry . Open eyes were a challenge -- the day was cold, rain spitting at times, the wind roaring with power in the canopy, and whipping up waves on the lake. We tightened our hats and coats. Springtime was fighting the cold with all the joy it could muster, with buds opening, osoberry blooming, mosses glistening, and wildlife returning. Golden-crowned kinglets flitted right beside us among the lakeshore bushes. A goldeneye hunted the lake’s depths. But little else moved. We walked south on the west side of the lake, mostly in silence as I was getting over a sore throat. The trail had slippery rocks and muddy patches to dance around. The stream at the south end gurgled with intensity. The trail along the south shore has been closed for some time now to give wildlife some breathing room in the wetlands. We left the lakeshore to climb through the woods along Trail 105 to Big Beaver Pond. Kath and I faced each other to talk about the wilderness emotion the lake evokes. I stared beyond to see a huge river otter shimmying clumsily over a log and then slipping back into the water near the beaver dam. The sight was magical, as was its timing! We both just stood in awe. To emphasize the point, a male barred owl hooted an odd refrain, followed by a higher-pitched and clearer female response asking, “Who cooks for you-all?” They chatted several more times. This place is alive with wild! And this, a frigidly cold winter day. The pond near the beaver dam lay covered with duckweed, a new trail cut through it by the otter. The dam was holding, the beavers doing their thing in diversifying the health of Big Beaver. We returned along the eastern shore. The storm was keeping most people indoors on this March weekend, yet we met a woman sitting on a rock overlooking the lake, on holiday from England, visiting our town to go on weekly Orca cruises, and in these woods today to listen to music and see this amazing wilderness right in town. We shared about the gift of having the ACFL. “Brilliant!" she said. You know how Trail 102 goes: up and down on rocks and gravel, through the 2016 burn area, back into the large trees and wetlands at the northeast corner of the lake, then swinging back west toward the dam and parking area. We kept our eyes and ears open, marveling at the beauty and immensity of this lake and forest right here in our backyard, and grateful for all those who protect it for today and tomorrow. Let’s keep it wild. Directions: From Anacortes, from the roundabout at D Avenue and 32nd, go south around two curves to the parking lot along A Avenue. Or for the north end of the lake take 12th Street west to Georgia Avenue, and about four blocks up turn right on the one lane road at the sign leading to Little Cranberry Lake.
By Bus: Take the 410 bus west from downtown Anacortes to get as close as possible to the Georgia Avenue road, leaving about a mile walk up to the lake. By bike: the roads in Anacortes are hilly approaching the two trail access areas. The 12th Street road is busy with a narrow shoulder. There is less traffic to deal with to get to the A Avenue trailhead. Mobility: The trail at the Georgia Avenue access is graveled, flat, and wide, leading to a wooden overlook in about a quarter mile. The rest of the trails in this area are narrow, hilly, rocky, muddy, and a bit of a challenge. |
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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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