Beaks and Bills
by Joe Meche
It took a bit of time and discussion for us to realize that travel to San Francisco to visit relatives during the holidays wasn’t such a good idea. Not only were we busy on the home front with holiday doings, but the roads would be busier than usual between the Christmas and New Year’s Day celebrations. Sometimes it takes a while to make a smart move, so a smarter plan took shape accordingly as we came to our senses and delayed the trip until mid-January.
As you’ve heard me rant in this column before, driving south on Interstate 5 through the mass of traffic between Everett and Olympia is one of my least favorite things to do. Add to that the tight vehicular squeeze through Portland and you’re forever thankful you don’t have to do it on a regular basis. After leaving early and biting the proverbial bullet, we cruised into Grants Pass, Oregon, for the night. After a full day on the road, sleep came easily.
Anytime you’re traveling south from Bellingham on Interstate 5 for almost a thousand miles in January, you have to consider crossing the Siskiyou Summit, which is 12 miles south of Ashland, Oregon, and four miles north of the California state line. At 4,310’ above sea level, the summit is the highest elevation on Interstate 5 and prone to severe weather, as we know from first-hand experience on previous winter crossings.
photo: Joe Meche
Snowy egret
The Siskiyou Mountains form a natural boundary between the watersheds of the Rogue and Klamath Rivers and also a geographical dividing line between Oregon and California. Following Native American trails, the Hudson Bay Company carved a route over the summit to facilitate the trade of furs and pelts and created the Siskiyou Trail in 1827. Like most mountain passes, the Siskiyou is steeped in history and a testament to the ingenuity and determination of the early trailblazers.
Our drive over the summit was slowed a bit by morning fog, but thanks to traveling mercies, we drove into clear blue skies right at the state line. It wasn’t long before we had the brilliance of Mount Shasta to guide us down and into California. At 14,179’ above sea level, Mount Shasta is the second highest and most voluminous of the volcanic peaks of the Cascade Range. It rises 10,000 feet above the surrounding area and its bulk dominates that part of the Shasta- Trinity National Forest.
With the toughest part of the journey behind us, we were quite pleased to leave the freeway and meander toward our destination on back roads through part of California’s famous wine country. The number of vineyards we passed on just one road was mind boggling. It was a different kind of relief to reach Highway 101 and head for the Golden Gate. The relief was tempered as we approached the famous bridge and traffic ground to a halt. Oh well, it was a Saturday evening after all.
Following my sister’s directions, we left the traffic behind and turned onto her street to meet and greet and check out her new place. Her expansive views were all that she said they were. From her ninth floor apartment, you can see the Golden Gate, Alcatraz Island, Fisherman’s Wharf and the place I most wanted to see for birds … Crissy Field. When I was asked for a list of places that I wanted to visit during our stay, this hot spot was at the top of the list. We had enjoyed this area on the shore of San Francisco Bay on previous trips. Even though this trip was not about birds, my sister knows that I’m birding even when I’m not birding … ponder that for a while.
The city of San Francisco deserves a round of applause for its focus on making so much of its beauty accessible to all, and the crowds were certainly out on a sunny Sunday with the temperature in the low 60s. Despite the number of people enjoying the day, we never felt crowded and the birds in the tidewater lagoon seemed to feel the same way. Marbled godwits, snowy egrets, and even a long-billed curlew probed the shallows for food as the humans fi led by, most of whom paid little or no attention to the birds.
Another day trip took to us to Baker Beach just outside the Golden Gate where sanderlings and western gulls entertained this visitor from the Northwest. A lunch stop at Land’s End offered more common ravens than I’ve ever seen in one location. After two nights in the busy city, complemented by full-moon and sunset views from the rooftop, we packed our bags and headed to Dillon Beach, on the coast about 60 miles north of the city.
My sister and nephew went in separate vehicles to facilitate their needs for the coming week while Cindy and I took the back roads following the coastline of Marin County … the more scenic and less traveled way, if you will. On stops at Stinson Beach and along the shoreline of Tomales Bay I was truly amazed to see numerous turkey vultures and a few California scrub jays, actually in California. We also picked up American wigeons, white-crowned sparrows and a lone American avocet along the way.
photo: Joe Meche
Turkey vultures
Their third home (!) at Dillon Beach sits high above the Pacific Ocean with views to Point Reyes and Tomales Bay on the south and Bodega Bay to the north. Their location on a dead-end road opens to an unlimited expanse for hiking across open meadows as far as you can see. The property owner allows residents of their HOA access to the open fields that usually have deer and cows browsing side by side … just remember to close and lock the gate! On one of my jaunts, horned larks and white-crowned sparrows were out along with the ever present turkey vultures.
One of our planned excursions … also on my list … was a day trip to Bodega Bay. We enjoyed a bayside picnic with the West Coast’s finest fish and chips and a wonderful array of shorebirds like marbled godwits, willets, sanderlings, and dunlin. Snowy and great egrets were in and out to add to the mix. A trip out to Bodega Head added black oystercatchers, pelagic and Brandt’s cormorants, and … you guessed it … more turkey vultures. The views and the sound of heavy surf were soothing to the soul, especially in these times of need. After five days of connecting with my sister and nephew, complemented by good birds, good hikes, great food, and hot-tub time, we bid our fond farewells and headed north for the night in Eureka.
We agreed that a fogged-in Eureka was a disappointment or even a shock to our systems after all the sunny days before. In a way, it was a blessing of sorts since it was easy to leave and find sunshine again in Crescent City, where we had the boardwalk practically to ourselves and a hundred or more sea lions, red-breasted mergansers, and red-throated loons. If you’re following along here, you can see that our plan was to meander homeward along the Oregon Coast. After one last night at a unique hotel in Lincoln City and an early departure, we set our sights on home.
We did a wide end-around and avoided Portland by crossing the Columbia River at Longview. Northbound Seattle traffic was a breeze utilizing the Express and HOV lanes. In all, we had a great trip, reconnecting with family and catching up on news of more distant relatives. I think road trips are great in so many ways and one of the most important takeaways is our appreciation of where we live. Bellingham/Bellinghome is always a wonderful place to end a good trip, and we have yet to encounter even one place we’d rather live.
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Joe Meche is a past president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and was a member of the board of directors for 20 years. He has been watching birds for more than 60 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 40 years. He has written over 200 columns for Whatcom Watch.
