Terry Street Stairs: Overhead, underfoot and on the rocks

The cliff face from White Rock to Kwomais Point is steep, high, treacherous and prone to mudslides. That hasn't deterred the residents of the upper slope from making tracks to the beach; walking the railroad tracks at the bottom, we see trail outlets at every little gully or creek mouth. Some are private, some public, some well-built, railed paths and staircases, some just a few boards or logs jammed in the muddiest spots, some foot-paths made by running and sliding teenagers. On the way down, trails or staircases from the individual houses above angle across the slopes to join the main routes.

None of these trails are mapped. None are visible on Google maps; the trees above hide them.

We have been driving down each short street and alley off Marine Drive, scanning the gaps between houses, looking for a way down. Our latest find, last Thursday, is at the dead end of Terry Street (one block long).

199 solid steps, railed, and a long, sometimes steep trail.

This is a lousy photo; my camera protests at the difference in light and dark; the houses above in full sun, aimed at from the dark of the ravine. But it gives an idea of the terrain. This was from about 1/2 of the way down. The bare patch on the right is a mudslide scar. Laurie has scrambled across the blackberry canes to the creek; off the trail.


Not very pretty. Looking back up, anyhow. Tangled, scrubby bush, overrun with blackberries, dry and brown at this time of year.

But look down!


Quite a bit more climbing to do, and then the blue ocean.

On these slopes, the trees, alder, pine, birch, etc., adopt fantastic shapes, lop-sided and broken. Several had recently fallen across the trail and been chain-sawed out of the way. In a couple of spots, the trail was sprinkled with sawdust from woodpecker carpentry too far above to locate.

All to one side. Some repair work done with a chainsaw.

Nothing left but the bare trunk.

Overhead, a delicate tracery of branches and last summer's leaves.

At ground level, spring growth is on its way, straight and true.

This showed up on my screen, but was barely noticeable to the unaided eye:

On the mudslide scar, the shadow of an evergreen behind me.

One of the fallen trees, sawed off where it crossed the trail, is turning purple:

Some sort of crust fungus.

Here's a close-up, a bit fuzzy. (In real life, as well as the photography.) Look at that furry back!


On another downed trunk:

Tiny green lichen.

And a yellow jelly.

Looks good enough to eat.

Down at the bottom, several flocks of diving ducks kept well beyond camera range. Seagulls flew overhead and away. But this guy stood his ground. When we came too close, he picked up the treasure he was guarding, and retreated to the water's edge. We kept coming. He hopped over to this rock, and stood, holding his trophy. "Mine, mine, all mine! You're not getting any!"

It looks to me like part of a large crab. Probably stinky. We didn't want any.