Hollow In the wake of the once tall cedar groves we find their stumps, hollowed relics to explore, wonder and engage. For a moment we are suspended in this perpetual dance between growth, decay, and forest again
The trailhead was recently expanded to include additional parking (nearly full on this cold January Saturday) and a sharp-looking bulletin board. And a new stretch of trail has been added. Called Frog Forest, it completes a loop for more than two miles of blissful forest sauntering. Hikers and dogs were milling at the trailhead when we arrived; we chatted as Murphy sniffed with his counterparts. Kath and I took the newly-completed Frog Forest Trail to check it out. Scattered small ponds grace the sides of the trail for nearly a half mile. The trail tread is still rough and fresh, but alongside there is abundant wetland habitat for sedges, willows, birds, and of course the namesake amphibians. I can’t wait to hear the cacophony of song on a spring evening. This route soon joins up with more established trails, winding through more established forests. The wind sang deep songs in the firs and bare alders. Our pace became deliberate as we listened to the heartbeat of the land, to the stories of each of the trees as we walked among them, their lives and deaths and new births speaking to us in their ancient language. Some are telling stories as seedlings or sprouts, finding a place of their own. Some are gangly teenagers, and some are middle-aged trees, well established, with scars to prove it. Some are senior citizens, having lived here for centuries, watching the hours and days go by, and creatures like us who come and go like the passing breeze. All these trees stand as brothers, or as lovers, or as mothers and children, as old and as young, all mingling roots and lives together, a shared community. Some are dead though they still stand, giving homes and food to birds, insects, fungi, and much more. Some have now fallen, becoming soil, hosting abundant new life in their death. Growing, decaying, the forest continues... (below) The southern trail enters a sacred cedar grove. Our pace slows, our conversation ceases. We just listen instead, hearing whispers of holiness. One cedar fell decades ago, but still lives, its branches on one side now a row of full-grown trees too. Rare paper birch trees wave their branches in song as sap once again begins to swell their buds. A rocky pool of water below reflects their canopies. When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the red cedars, equally the birch, the firs and hemlock, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It's simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”
We emerge back at the trailhead, finishing the circle of pathways. As we reflect on our time in the Dog Woods, we envision family and dear friends, loved ones with newborns, young adults, or aging seniors, all of us in our perpetual dance within the circle of life. Guemes Island is part of the ancestral homelands of the Coast Salish peoples and the Samish Indian Nation, who lived throughout the San Juan Islands from time immemorial. The Samish name for the island translates to “Lots of Dogs” Island, where the Samish raised the Salish Woolly Dog, whose long white hair was sheared and spun for weaving.
Dog Woods is intended to remind us of this Samish history, and the dogs and people who have wandered the beaches, meadows, and forests of the island. Directions: Take the Guemes Ferry from 6th and I in Anacortes to the island. If on foot, we enjoy walking the beach from there passed Peach's Preserve to Kelly’s Point and taking the stairs there to West Shore Road. Go north about a quarter mile to the trailhead. By Bus: Route 410 of Skagit Transit goes to the Guemes Ferry in Anacortes. By Bike: From downtown Anacortes take 6th Avenue westward to the ferry. Sixth Avenue is basically flat with little traffic. After landing on Guemes, bike on South Shore Road from the ferry about a mile west to West Shore Road and then north to Dog Woods. Mobility: The trails are mostly narrow and uneven. A dirt roadway bisecting the forest is wider, but with ruts and uneven terrain of varying firmness.
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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
April 2024
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