Glines Canyon & Skygazing

A few weeks ago, TBG asked me if I wanted to go up to Hurricane Ridge and do our weekly hike in the snow. He was serious. I had to think about my response carefully. Not because I didn’t know what it was, but because what immediately sprang to my lips wasn’t going to end pretty. I had to avoid the unproductive emotional girlie response about how after all these years he should know me and how could he ask that knowing how much I hate snow and if he really loved me that question would never, ever have even occurred to him. I don’t think I was able to overcome a pointed stare, though, as I did respond with, “Hell no.”

We have done varying lengths of the Glines Canyon Overlook Trail before, but had never gone to the overlook area proper.

The beginning of the trail is the old Olympic Hot Springs Road, which is still paved up to the river, where it washed out in a big storm subsequent to the breaching of the dam.

After that, there is a Bypass Trail through the woods that eventually re-connects with the roadway. As you can see, we were in a good amount of shade, but it was a sunny and warmer than normal day.

I took advantage of the easy grade, and used my walking stick to practice my sword fighting scene. We saw only a sparse handful of other trail-users, mostly singletons on bikes.

There was no one else around when we reached the east side overlook. The walkway, railings, and still-intact glass globes (how have those escaped vandalism?!) were a charming sight.

It is possible to hike in to the other side of the dam, where we could see interpretive signs and a seemingly more developed/maintained visitor-type area, and we will do that another day.

The air was filled with swirls of Barn and Violet-green Swallows and Vaux’s Swifts, all far too fast for photos.

The views over the railing were straight down into the roiling turquoise water in Glines Canyon.

The concrete platform on “our” side begged for a bench or a picnic table, but since neither existed, after enjoying the views over Smokey Bottom (what used to be Lake Mills,) we walked back out to the trail to find a shady spot.

Before settling on a perfect luncheon log, we ignored the slippery path and bear-sighting signs, and explored a short section of sun-dappled fairyland trail. We did, eventually, come upon a boggy, muddy section and let that make our decision to head back for our snack.

On our return trip, we spotted an easy place to access the river, and I couldn’t pass up the chance to ice my feet. Puddling Northern blue butterflies and a couple of different varieties of hatchling toads joined us at the river’s edge.

We passed the still-used forest stable area, though all the park mules were down at their lower yard, training new people. As much as I adore critters, I’ve always been kind of neutral on horses, but mules? I love those darn things, and if I was ever to have a horse, I wouldn’t, I’d have a mule.

As we walked back, TBG talked of how he thought a nighttime return trip to the overlook would be grand for Milky Way photos. He even posited returning that very night. Two things kept that from happening. One, I didn’t want to return quite that soon, and, two, the Northern Lights were set to put on the biggest show of our lifetimes, and his photographic interest was diverted to that.

Having seen the Aurora Borealis several times when I was stationed in North Dakota and being particularly tired that evening, I was just going to stay in bed and read while he went out to find a good spot to see and photograph them. Ha! Duh! As you are all well aware, pretty much the whole country was a good spot to view them, and not wanting to get out of my warm cocoon but thinking I should probably peek out, I did so about 11. Good thing, eh?

While TBG was photographing them from his vantage point at Three Crabs, I was wandering around our road, marveling at the fact that this light show was not just northern, but illuminating the sky in every direction. The “pole” point appeared to be directly over our house, making it seem like we were under an umbrella.

The following evening, I went to work concessions at the theatre and enjoy the show, and TBG recruited his friend, Norm, to accompany him back by bicycle to the Glines Overlook for those Milky Way shots.

To round out a week full of visual delights, my neighbor/friend/fellow birder, Melissa, called me up the street to her feeders to see the Evening Grosbeaks. They were another nemesis bird of mine, not interested in my feeder, though I’m only a few doors down and feeding the same treats. Choosy sons-of-guns!

Three males provided plenty of photo ops, though I still would love to see a female/young male with their often brighter mint-green beaks. That just gives me the excuse to spend more time in Melissa’s bird blind, now doesn’t it?