Can you feel the wind blowing off the Strait, hear the waves breaking on shore, see the trees bending with each gust, as an eagle wings its way overhead? Can you sense the immensity of time as a bank of alders becomes a forest of firs and cedars, which in time lay down as a bed for the generations to come? Can you smell the smoke rising into the rafters, curing flanks of salmon for the winter season? Nearby fields are burning to keep the camas growing, and nettles and bracken. Hear tribal voices rise together in song honoring the return of salmon, as Orca breach the waters offshore. Can you see several men rowing their launches from a large wooden sailing ship, heading into a nearby waterway as they discover this long arm of land is an island? Their captain honors the master of this crew by naming the island after him. Can you hear smaller boats rowing ashore in the dead of night, bringing Chinese laborers, or cans of opium, disappearing on the island in a rising fog. Can you walk through the meadows of fertile farms and pastures, crops and livestock feeding a growing population of Dutch settlers? Can you see a mercantile becoming villages becoming towns? Listen to the sounds of trees falling as the new owner, the U.S. Navy, builds airfields and shelters; listen to the sounds of propeller planes practice-landing on the airfields. Listen to the small arms fire as recruits shoot targets with large berms used as backstops for their bullets. Listen as the whirring of propellers becomes a raging roar of jet engines. Read reports that this hundred-acre corner is surplus, and would State Parks like to have it as a park? And lacking money, Parks asks KOA to build a campground here. Smile as Island County officials object, arguing a campground is inappropriate, encroaching on a shoreline, inviting traffic congestion, and endangering limited island water supplies. Come back later and find a park, and once again find meadows, forests, open beaches, wetlands, wildlife, and trails leading among them all. The park is named in honor of that long ago master of the Vancouver expedition. Evidence of the stories above can still be found here, other than the smuggling, although the remoteness of the beach needs little imagination to picture that happening too. Kath had never been to Joseph Whidbey. I loved watching her discover the soul of the park. We started at the west end. Blue skies graced this weekend day, but the low winter sun created long shadows even at noon. A stiff breeze off the water had us zipping our coats up tightly. Waves with whitecaps made music on the gravelly beach. An eagle hung around the treetops, while gulls cavorted and cruised over the shoreline. We walked inland, following the central trail through a forest of old alder, young firs, and cedars. Through our stocking caps we heard a barred owl’s muted hoot off in the distance. The trails throughout the park are gentle, wide, and inviting. After a half mile the forest gives way to large meadows with pockets of trees, wild rose thickets, blackberry patches, and wetlands. We circled around for well over a mile, the trail never in a straight line, always leading to simple joys: a rabbit springing through the brush, kinglets like piccolos in bare trees, rose hips deep red in the afternoon sun, meadow grasses stark against dark firs. We could hear the surf again as we headed back toward the beach. Dropping down through the driftwood, then onto the sea strand, waves marching ashore, gulls freewheeling above, we sensed the circle of life, the soul of the island. jack "To include nature in our stories is to return to an older form of human awareness in which nature is not scenery, not a warehouse of natural resources, not real estate, not a possession, but a continuation of community." ~ Barry Lopez Directions: From Highway 20 north of Oak Harbor, take Ault Field Road, straight through the roundabout, past the golf course and turn right on Crosby Road. State Parks opens the main gates April through September, but rough parking lots at each end accommodate visitors year-round.
By bike: the roads have minimal traffic once you are past the airbase; they roll with gentle hills but narrow shoulders. Mobility: the trails are wide and graveled for the most part, with mostly gentle slopes, except between the beach and the main parking area which is quite steep.
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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
March 2024
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