Beaks and Bills
by Joe Meche
After last month’s change in our spring tradition we decided to return to the warmer east side of the mountains to get back into the old rhythm. We found the added fun of taking the same two grandkids, cousins in fact, on a return to the high drama of 2014. It was exactly ten years ago that we were part of a Level Three evacuation notice as the Carlton Complex fire leaped across the Methow River and was headed directly to our campground at Alta Lake State Park. I wrote about the ordeal in the September issue of Whatcom Watch and we were hoping for a less stressful experience this time. Something else to consider was that the two grandkids are now in their twenties and we looked forward to how they might remember the campground itself and the hasty departure to a motel in Wenatchee.
As the quartermaster/logistics guy, I always like to have an overall plan in mind well ahead of the big departure and this gig was no exception. Cindy’s always in charge of the menus but I’m still the guy to haul the pots and pans. I followed an old pattern and left a day ahead of her and the kids so I could do the initial setup for their arrival. I admit to being a little selfish since I planned to stop for an overnight at a favorite spot just over the Cascade Crest at 3,900’ above sea level … the Klipchuck Campground.
After a good night’s sleep in the mountain air and a phone conversation with Cindy, the overall plan changed. It seemed that our granddaughter had tested positive for Covid and was not making the trip after all. But I proceeded to Alta Lake as I would have anyway … no big deal. As I set up the camp and awaited their arrival, the wind began to pick up considerably creating a bit of a challenge for the camp master. The wind that greeted Cindy and our grandson seemed to immediately affect his allergies and it all went downhill after that. Dust, grass seeds, and pollen filled the air. It seemed that Cindy was affected as well. We expected the heat, which bordered the 80-degree mark but the wind was a surprise. We found out later that gusts down the road in Pateros were in the 25-30 mile per hour range.
Whitecaps on the lake kept the kayaks in their racks on both days and smoke appeared over the ridges as we were preparing dinner on the second evening. There was no way could this happen again, but it turned out there was indeed a new fire, over the ridge near Lake Chelan. Grandson’s allergies flared to the point where he and Cindy had to drive into town for the only pharmaceuticals in the area to give him some relief. The smoke dissipated as the moon set. The entire trip began a distinctive tilt the next morning as we broke camp and I prepared for the remainder of the getaway as a solo act.
As Cindy and Finn left for Bellingham, I followed a tip from a friend and headed south to Soap Lake where I hoped to capture American avocets with recently-fledged chicks. I reached my destination before noon, despite traffic delays on the only highway into town and found the avocets almost immediately. Heat was building at this point and the low lake level presented a challenge, along with the swarms of sand flies. The shoreline of this unique lake gets very spongy as the waterline recedes and the footing is like walking on quicksand. Walking carefully and carrying a big telephoto lens are essentials at Soap Lake, not to mention bug spray and sunscreen. I was also able to capture black-necked stilts before I decided that I had enough.
I headed north through the same construction delays toward Sun Lakes State Park in the heart of the Grand Coulee … not the dam but the ancient river bed that represents one of the most amazing geological events in history. Volcanic activity and glaciations over millions of years followed by catastrophic flooding left behind the incredible landmarks we now see, with the lower coulee stretching from Dry Falls to Soap Lake. If nothing else read the Wikipedia article on Grand Coulee and try to comprehend the scope of the natural forces that created this National Landmark, right here in Washington state.
I left the coulee country and steered back to the confluence of the Columbia and Methow Rivers. Near Pateros, I was able to observe at least a dozen osprey nests that were all occupied by breeding pairs. Western kingbirds were also plentiful along the lower Methow. Since I’m an early starter I found time to detour back to the Alta Lake boat launch area which proved to be one of the best birding sites of the entire trip. Eastern kingbirds, Bullock’s orioles, yellow-headed and red-winged blackbirds were on hand along with American coots, pied-billed grebes, and ruddy ducks. The big surprise was the appearance of a red-necked grebe, which I presumed was nesting in the nearby reeds.
As I drove up the Methow Valley I decided it was time for another detour … the beauty of freewheeling with no schedule or time constraints in mind. It had been years since I last explored the upper reaches of the Twisp River and at the 20-mile marker I pulled into a favorite campground, Poplar Flats. The campground was practically empty and I pulled into the very same spot I remembered from 38 years ago! The site is right on the river, which in early June was running high with snow melt. I was reading on the river’s edge when a female common merganser drifted into view with 8 ducklings in tow. I’m always impressed at the courage and trust these ducklings display following Mom into the fast-moving current.
My journey took a relatively dramatic turn on Friday morning when I awoke with symptoms that puzzled me. Since I rarely get colds, it was only after I called Cindy that I found out she had apparently picked up Covid-like symptoms from our granddaughter and had unknowingly passed them on to me. Well, here I was five days out with five more on my loose agenda, so what to do? It was obvious that I wasn’t going to return to Bellingham just then and I wasn’t going to be around anyone, so I laced up my proverbial bootstraps and continued the march.
I slipped into the state park at Pearrygin Lake to grab a nice, long shower and got back on the road with the changing weather to spend two more nights at Klipchuck. The benefits of being self-contained and self-sustaining are obvious. Everything I needed was onboard so I forged ahead. The best thing for me to do was to isolate and avoid infecting anyone else. Rainy, cooler weather stayed with me at the Lone Fir and Goodell Creek campgrounds, but I weathered just fine, albeit at less than one hundred percent.
I arrived home around mid-morning on Day 10 and unloaded a few essentials. I gave in to a two-hour nap and found out later that I had lost eleven and a half pounds on my journey! All’s well that end well and I might have invented a new diet.
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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.