 On the bus on my way home, I decided to go for a walk. It was a warm, sunny day. I pulled the cord, the bus stopped, and I stepped out at South Whidbey State Park. I had only taken a few steps when I heard a curious commotion. A dog was wailing, and another was barking. As I came around the corner into the parking lot, I saw 3 women with their dogs. They put one into a crate in a car and led another up to the picnic shelter. Both the women and the dogs seemed very purposeful. I inquired and they explained. They were doing nose work (which is entirely different than a nose job). These hounds were being trained to sniff out certain scents that had been hidden in advance. It was fascinating to watch as one dog after another went through the course, sniffing around, narrowing it down, finding the source, and getting a reward. What wonderful noses to be able to sort out all the scents at a park and find the one left on a little tab for them to find. Good dog! Just as I left the dogs and their trainers, I turned to find an old friend. She had a new hip and came to the park to do three laps around the parking lot. As she started her walk, I met a young woman with a bulging backpack. She was getting in shape for bigger adventures in the mountains this summer. Instead of counting steps, she was counting miles. I turned down the shady campground road. Friends of mine had joined the Friends of Whidbey State Parks and adopted trails here. I had just become an official volunteer here, myself. I adopted the old campground loop that's now closed to camping and traffic, but open for people. After bringing a friend in a wheelchair last year and finding how much she enjoyed getting out into the woods on the wide, paved road, I determined to help keep it clear for others who need a gentler way to experience this forest. I didn’t do any work that day. I just walked familiar trails meeting others who were outside enjoying our sudden summer. At the Hobbit tree, I crossed the road to take the Wilbert Trail. Some of us have favorite parks or trails. I have a favorite tree. A huge cedar over 500 years old. There is one that has its own sign saying Ancient Cedar. People bring special rocks to leave before the tree. But it’s not the only ancient cedar in this park. And there are monstrous Douglas fir trees with blackened bark from a long-ago fire. And huge Sitka spruce with their flaky bark that are rare in most parts of the Island. Multi-trunked big leaf maples, red alders and grand firs, fill out the canopy. Wildflowers are at their peak. Twin flowers carpeted parts of the forest floor. Buttercups and foam flower dotted the side of the trail. A white foxglove stood ghost-like alone. I heard osprey, purple finch, chickadees, towhees, pine siskins, robins, and the bright yellow Wilson’s warbler. Cedar waxwings with their high-pitched peeps surrounded me among the salmonberries. I searched the leafy canopy and caught only a glimpse of these fine feathered friends. The call of the Swainson’s thrush says the day is done and it’s time to head home. Standing by the bus stop I read the interpretive sign dedicated to the people in the community that saved this forest from destruction in 1970’s. An older couple came off the Discovery Trail and proudly pointed to their friend’s picture on the sign. It’s hard to believe that this forest would be gone had it not been for them. Ranger Drew stopped by on his rounds. Next time, I promised him, I would bring my tools and do some park work. That’s what Friends are for. For details on becoming a Friend of Whidbey State Parks click here. Maribeth Address: 4128 S. Smugglers Cove Road, Freeland, WA 98249
Directions: From the stop light in Freeland, go north on Highway 525, turn left onto Bush Point Road. Drive 5 miles. The park entrance will be on your left. Or from Coupeville, take Highway 20 south 10 miles to Greenbank Farm and turn right onto Smuggler’s Cove Road. Drive 5 miles and the park entrance will be on your right. By Bus or Bike: For cyclists, Smuggler's Cove Road has wide shoulders but high speeds so wear something bright. Island Transit’s fare free Bus Route 1 will take you to the park on Smuggler’s Cove Road. Bikes and wheelchairs can be carried on a bus. Visit: https://www.islandtransit.org/ or call 360-678-7771 for bus schedules. Mobility: The Old Campground Loops are paved and accessible by wheelchair or mobility devices. There are some hills. Enter just to the left side of the restrooms. The Discovery Trail and the trails across the road have steps, roots, rocks and some steep spots throughout.
0 Comments
 Summer Solstice, 2022. Literally, the day the “sun stands still”, and yet we know it is just the moment it changes direction, the earth moving on in its tilted voyage around the sun. But on this day, we celebrate the sun, its fullness in spending a long day with us. It is now summer. Kath and I celebrated Solstice by hiking to Lighthouse Point, as did dozens, maybe hundreds of others. One never knows what will be found on a hike. Today emphasized that point, many times, in many ways. This day was calm, cloudy but clearing, and warming. Elsie the elephant seal had just arrived at Bowman Bay after molting for several weeks near our place in Anacortes. People arrived in cars, with dogs or kayaks or picnic baskets or hiking poles or long-lensed cameras, ready to venture forth and enjoy the magic of the day. We passed clumps of people of all sorts, kids and the elderly, strong marchers with packs, and slow strollers with canes. We walked onto the sandy beach between Bowman Bay and Lighthouse Point. There in the sand, in artistic handwriting, “Stephanie” had created a lengthy pledge of affirmations and commitments to herself, spoken to the world on this first day of summer.  I am beautiful I am kind I am strong I will not Give up I will stand tall I will love myself I will care for myself I will be kind to others I will always be true to myself I have the power to be strong And rich In money and love I will only manifest goodness What I create becomes reality I am in charge of my happiness Nearby we found a drawing of immense beauty and size, an intricate work of art, inspiring in its grandeur – and as temporary as the tide, sketched in the sand as the waters receded. We followed the trail onto Lighthouse Point, past a curious chickaree, past roses blooming forth while they can along the side of the trail, the sunshine splashing greens and golds in the trees and sparkling on the waters of the south cove. I am always joyful, playful, and inspired by the interplay of water and tides and grassy headlands and woodlands here. We scrambled up the small point, and spelunked the tiny cave in the cove. The trail leads west toward the lightbulb at Lighthouse Point. Gentle breezes flowed over the meadow and through our minds. We clambered down to the beach below Lighthouse Point, using roots for handholds going down and back up; then entered the high walls of salal along the headland, exploring the many fingers that jut out toward Deception Island. On the northwest corner we lay in a field of mosses and grasses, watching waves caress the islets of Bowman Bay and Rosario Head beyond. The Olympics lay shrouded in clouds while we bathed in the glorious sunlight of summer. We rested, having slowly sauntered and scrambled for nearly two hours to get here. The tide now rested too, slack, catching its breath before returning to flood back over the beaches. We walked back, listening to orange-crowned warblers, white-crowned sparrows, and the haunting Swainsons songs. The deep woods echoed silence. Soon we emerged onto the beach to wander past the artwork and inspirational words again. The waters of the sea lapped gently, rising inexorably to eventually erase the dreamworks and create a new canvas for tomorrow. The universe renews her palette minute by minute, day by day, year by year, as visitors such as us come and go, come and go. Flowers become seeds and wait for fall. Elsie will soon head south to Hawai’i. The trees too stand firm, standing still in our eyes, but in their time rising and then falling as the centuries go by. And so we live our lives, stories written in the sand. jack Directions: from the Deception Pass bridge, drive north on Highway 20 a half mile. Turn left on Rosario Road, and then an immediate left onto Bowman Bay Road. The trail starts at the south end of Bowman Bay.
By bus: the nearest service is to the bus stop just north of Cornet Bay Road on Whidbey Island, about a mile south of the Deception Pass bridge. By bike: Highway 20 and Rosario Road are hilly, busy and narrow, but they can lead you to Bowman Bay. Mobility: the beginning of the trail is flat and graveled. It soon climbs a rocky bluff on a rough and rocky trail. At low tide the bluff can by bypassed by walking the sandy and gravelly beach southward. The trail on Lighthouse Point (Reservation Head) varies in terrain, sometimes steep, rocky or filled with roots, in other places easier going. Permits: A Discover Pass or other valid pass is required.  A while back, I was asked to lead a hike for the Council of the Blind of Island and Skagit Counties. With help from Colette, we organized an outing that included taking an Island Transit bus from March’s Point Park & Ride (near Anacortes) to the Oak Harbor waterfront trail. One woman I knew used a walker but I didn’t know if the rest of the group had challenges beyond their visual impairments. So I picked this trail because it’s level, with a paved sidewalk most of the way, and Freund Marsh is a good place for birding, which they requested. At first I wondered about blind people going bird watching, but being able to go birding by ear is really helpful in our lush northwest forests. Sarah Schmidt and Lee Chavez, friends from Whidbey Audubon Society, were kind enough to assist. They’re much better birders than I and could lend a hand guiding if needed. Some of the group met me at March’s Point and we rode the bus to Oak Harbor. Andy and his guide dog, a small, black lab, rode in the front. She looked like a puppy but Andy said she was four years old. He wouldn’t tell us her name and didn’t want anyone to pet her while she was at work. Once in Oak Harbor, we met Sarah and Lee and the rest of the group sitting on a bench in Flintstone Park. Introductions were made and I went over the plan for the day describing the trail on a boardwalk and sidewalk to our picnic pavilion. “The sun and water will be on your left. You’ll feel a breeze off the water. The ballpark, playground and splash park will be on your right. There are a lot of people coming and going. After our picnic we’ll go into Freund Marsh where there will be more birds.” Sarah asked if anyone knew what bird made the distinctive raspy cry we were hearing. Holly called it, “A Caspian Tern!” Someone said it sounded like a cat whose tail was being stepped on. Andy walked well ahead of the others. I caught up and mentioned that there was a sculpture to his left. He told his dog to “find it” and was led to the art piece. Andy told me he had trained his dog to “find it” in a totem pole park in Sitka. When the group joined us, I began to pay more attention to sounds. I heard the crack of a ball and bat making contact in the ball field. Passing the playground we heard the usual cacophony of kids playing and parents calling. We moved slowly taking it all in. We saw kids in the splash park with squirting water from a fake shipwreck and described the scene for the group. We walked across the spongy base by the fake stumps. Someone said, “This feels good. You can leave me here to take a nap.” When we reached the picnic pavilion we were ready to eat. Andy pulled out 8 bottles of water to share. Others shared apples, grapes and cucumbers. As we ate we described the activities of others around us, a family prepared a huge meal, a little girl raced across the grass and back with applause from her family, cyclists rode by on an adventure. Our group sat contentedly smiling at the sun. After lunch we entered Freund Marsh busy with birdlife. Sarah pointed out the calls of the marsh wren and red winged blackbird. We walked on and found a flock of cedar waxwings. She described their smooth appearance and how they eat berries. Look, salmonberries! And wild roses! We tasted. We smelled. We moved on. A couple of policemen on bikes rolled by. An old friend held her large dogs off the trail to let us pass. We stopped at a bench to rest while songbirds flitted through the shrubs around us. Holly, who also had a black Lab guide dog, asked to meet Andy’s dog. Andy removed his dog’s harness, (meaning she was off duty) and led her over to Holly. The dogs rubbed noses and Holly rubbed the smaller dog’s back to get a feel of her size. Tails wagged. People smiled. It was a good day to be outside with old friends and new. Just before leaving Freund Marsh, Sarah stopped and played a recording of a Virginia rail. Sure ‘nuf, one answered! We could hear it tucked into the cattails nearby, but none of us saw it. Maribeth For a map, click here and scroll down to the 4th map. Special Thanks to Sarah Schmidt and Lee Chavez for their assistance. You are much appreciated! Directions: Oak Harbor’s Waterfront Trail connects three parks. If you are entering Oak Harbor from the south on Highway 20, turn right at the third light onto Beeksma Drive and turn left into the park. If you’re coming from north of Oak Harbor, follow Highway 20 until you reach Pioneer Way and go straight onto Beeksma Drive. Parking will be on your left. This parking lot is in the middle of the three parks.
By Bus and Bike: The trailhead at Flintstone Park is across Bayshore Drive from Harbor Station, the main transit hub in Oak Harbor served by Island Transit’s fare free Routes 1, 3, 411, 6, and 14. Bikes can ride Bayshore Drive with a wide shoulder and slow speeds. Bikes may also ride through the park to Scenic Heights Road, but beware of pedestrians. Please call out “on your left” when approaching pedestrians. Mobility: This park is level and has paved sidewalks or boardwalks wide enough for two wheelchairs to pass. Freund Marsh on the west end of the trail is wide and mostly level except at the west end where it rises a bit. The surface is packed gravel and usually dry. The whole trail is 2.2 miles round trip.  The more you get to know someone, the more comfortable you become in their presence. Eventually the obvious attractions are supplemented by the hidden qualities, the character traits, idiosyncrasies and features that become endearing. Boundaries and barriers fall away as you become willing to share more of yourself, to reveal the hidden nature of the real you. When someone accepts all that you are, and you accept and embrace it in them, intimacy develops and grows and fulfills. We connect beyond friendship. That’s how I feel about our backyard trail. Maybe you have one too, a trail close to you that you hike frequently just because it’s there. It may not be dramatic or well-known or famous for its beauty. It might be short and simple. But it’s where you hike quite a bit, and in so doing you get to know it well. You see more than just the trail; it becomes an intimate friend. We walked over to Washington Park, a block away from us. The day was warmish but overcast. We hike here frequently, several times a week. We’ve explored nearly all the trails. As we hit our first intersection, I hesitated. Kath had asked me to lead the way, and I had no plan, no purpose other than to enjoy the woods. That’s when it hit me – this trail is like a close friend. We can explore in any way we wish, take a short walk or a long hike, go slow or fast, follow familiar routes or go somewhere new. We walked a backtrail slowly, deliberately, listening to and looking for birds we could hear: a black-headed grosbeak, a trilling Wilson’s, and the haunting tune of a Swainson’s, until we came to a dirt road I had never walked before. We followed that to a trail we had hiked a week earlier. I closed my eyes and asked Kath to lead me as a blind person to the next trail intersection, wherever it might be. She took my hand, braced my elbow, and we walked closely, together, down a root and rock-strewn trail. We went slowly. She guided me beautifully, forgetting once that I was taller than she as brush gently brushed my face, but with nary a stumble or misstep for ten minutes. At this pace, without vision, I gained a new vision, a feel for the uneven tread, for the rhythm and roll of the trail. Every unevenness became an exploration; each turn, each slight change of grade a new surprise. I heard robins chirping, loudly, quickly. They were upset. An intruder might be in their neighborhood. We came to the next trail. I opened my eyes. What a joy that I could see! And then I saw a flash of feathers just ahead that flew to a nearby tree. We looked carefully, and there watching us with big round eyes sat a barred owl. This was its neighborhood too. We followed one trail which led to another, which led us to start climbing southwest toward the point. Near the top of the ridge, we explored banana slugs up close, caressed soft mosses and grasses, and nosed among bouquets of wildflowers. Through fern-covered forests we marveled at bright-red madrones, and trees sprouting from stumps. Whether looking at slime molds underfoot, hearing the songs of sparrows in the brush, or viewing tree branches above, the depth of life and beauty enveloped us. We came out to the south meadows, where juniper perfumed the air and parting clouds opened our souls with sunshine. This park’s beauty shines forth to me on the south side, the rocks and meadows inviting, the trails wide open, the views dramatic and yet still intimate. We were unhurried, reflective, just experiencing the land, the life, the loveliness here. Eventually we followed the trail along the channel back home. Warmth pervaded the hillside. Kelp floated the waters offshore. A raven croaked out a lonely song. Two eagles soared overhead. Two beetles clung to each other in spring’s dance. This is our familiar place. jack Directions: From the Highway 20 intersection roundabout at milepost 47, take the Highway 20 Spur into Anacortes. Follow the signs to the Anacortes - San Juan Islands ferry. This route goes north on Commercial Avenue, then west on 12th Street, which becomes Oakes Avenue. At the intersection which leads down to the ferries, take the left option instead, which is Sunset Avenue. In about a half a mile you will arrive at Washington Park. Parking is available as you enter the park.
By Bus: Take Skagit Transit Route 410 to the intersection of Sunset Avenue and Skyline Way. Washington Park is a quarter mile further west on Sunset Avenue. By Bike: Bike route 10 follows 6th Avenue west in Anacortes, then zigzags up to 12th Avenue, which becomes Oakes Avenue. Follow this until the road diverges at the ferries. Follow Sunset Avenue a half mile to the park. The road is rolling, with a three to six foot shoulder most of the way. The trails in the park are not designed for bikes. The paved road is a good option instead, or park your bike and hike. Mobility: The trails in Washington Park can be challenging. An ideal option is to come to the park before 10 a.m., when the paved road through the park is closed to vehicles. After 10 a.m., this road is still a great option, as traffic is light, moving slowly, and drivers are usually careful about going slowly around pedestrians. |
Authors
Archives by date
March 2025
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
