Here is the last in the blast from the past series for now…

First, here’s a photo from my trail clearing days. This was actually one of around 100 trees that blew down over a trail in the Goat Rocks Wilderness Area, after the US Forest Service had the hill below it clear cut. A heavy wind whipped up the freshly-cleared slope (outside the wilderness area) and, since the trees on the ridge had nothing to help them absorb the force, the old growth trees blew over. Ironically, although the clear cut (1/2 mile away) was logged with chain saws, we had to use a cross cut hand saw to clear the blow-downs (since chain saws aren’t allowed in wilderness areas).

Anyway, the following is something I found that I’d written down on some notepaper while on a solo hike nearly 28 years ago…

July 8, 1985

The mid-day heat was upon me as I hiked along the shore of Ross Lake for six miles to Big Beaver Creek. On the way the vegetation went from cool fir, cedar, birch and alder forest to hot, dry lodge pole pine thickets. It was in one of these that I came across a mother grouse and her chicks.

By the time I reached the Ross Lake/Big Beaver Creek junction, I was ready for a bath. I waded into the semi-warm water by an empty horse camp and was greeted by a horde of persistent horse flies. After the bath numerous boaters and hikers passed by in route to their camps on the lake. One group who had just come down from Big Beaver valley said the mosquitos up there were terrible. As they said this, I was almost nuts slapping horse flies, but the mosquitos up there were supposed to be worse? That made me think: do I want to keep going today at 4:00, alone, just me and the mosquitos to the dark forest, or do I stay here in the sunshine and put up with the power boats and the crowds?

Well, I came here knowing I’d be alone in the dark forest with mosquitos; and besides, I wanted more adventure than watching speed boats could supply me with. So I said goodbye to the sun and views of Pumpkin Seed and Jack Mountain and followed Big Beaver Creek, past old cedars and Douglas firs.

About three miles further, I came across a fresh bear scat full of huckleberries (I noticed all the huckleberries gone from the plants I’d passed on the trail). About 75 feet further was a flat spot and an access to the creek (sort of). Here was the adventure; this would be my camp tonight. I set up my mosquito-proof hammock and spread out my food to decide what to have for supper. The thought crossed my mind that if an animal were nearby, there were more than enough smells to attract it. A few minutes later I looked up with a start to see a black bear 15 away, coming into my camp. I said, “Hey there!” which surprised him, since I don’t think he knew anyone was in camp. I told him, “It’s okay to be here, just don’t try to steal my food.” I guess he didn’t feel like staying and stepped quietly back onto the trail. As he slowly moseyed on, I felt bad about scaring him off, so I said to him, “No hard feelings…” So he sat down on the trail and scratched for a while before meandering out of sight. It was a great way to end the first day.

Day 2:

I woke to a short sprinkling of rain which lasted less than five minutes. That cloud passed and the sky was clear from then on. As I sat by the river under tall mossy cedars, a striped snake passed by. Odd place for a snake (the second one I’ve seen here) but the vegetation is so diverse it was probably just headed for another dry spot. There were also a number of bumble bees attending my breakfast party (in addition to the usual uninvited biting guests). The bumble bees seemed to be more interested in their own business than sucking my blood. Turns out they had a ground nest right in my camp (of course).

Back on the trail I passed more huge cedars and some beaver ponds, one of which I stopped at for the night. I felt that if there was wildlife anywhere, it would be here. Indeed, I’ve been hearing the snapping of twigs and footfalls all evening.

As I was having dinner a yard from the pond, there was an enormous “SPLASH!” close by. Then I saw one of the big beavers eyeing me as she swam 20 feet from my camp…followed by another SPLASH of her tail; she didn’t like my intrusion at all. No one had ever spent the night here before and she did not want it to start happening now. I told her, “It’s okay, Ms. Beaver, but “SPLASH” was her only reply. I got a good look at her fleshy tail close-up as she struck the pond in threat.

As I lay in my hammock that night, I heard her several more times. Whenever I made so much as a peep, she would come back with a “SPLASH.” I hoped she wouldn’t come and chew down the trees my hammock was tied to. (Fortunately I hadn’t read about the guy in “Beware the Beaver,” or I might be more nervous;)

Day 3:

Just as I awoke and remembered the events from the night before, ”SPLASH!” She was still on guard. The sun is half up, but the clouds are starting to move in. It’s time to follow an unexplored valley in search of friendlier wildlife…

Text and Wildlife Photography ©Jim Robertson, 2013. All Rights Reserved