Way points

Photos along the way ... Shots taken almost at tandom as I went north looking at flowers. In chronological order, starting just after 3 PM, an hour out of town.

Somewhere along the highway. I had stopped to look at lupins.

A disused logging road near Eve River. There were roses and thimbleberries here.

A trail down to Hoomak Lake. The sign reads, "Caution. Watch for overhead hazards. Do not use in windy conditions."

Hoomak Lake; the lakeside trail. Twinflowers and salal here.

A glimpse of Hoomak Lake. Hardhack, not in flower yet; the visible flower head is leftover from last year.

Sit and rest awhile.

Bottom of the staircase back to the Rest Area. Thimbleberry flowers here.

On the way home again. That's Jagged Mountain ahead. The Wikipedia photo was taken from this same spot, before all the alders filled the vacant space.

I guess this could count as a Skywatch post.

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Algunas fotos del camino hacia el norte, mientras iba buscando flores. Están en orden cronológico; unas pocas horas, empezando cerca de las 3 de la tarde. (Salí de casa a las 2.)

1. Al lado de la carretera, donde me había detenido para mirar unos lupinos.
2. Un camino de forasteros en desuso. Aquí había rosas silvestres y flores de thimbleberry, Rubus parviflorus.
3. Bajando por un sendero hacia el lago Hoomak. El aviso lee: "Cuidado. Estén conscientes de peligros en la copa del bosque. No usar (el sendero) en condiciones de viento."
4. El sendero abajo, a la orilla del lago. Aquí hay flores gemelas y flores de salal, Gualtheria shallon.
5. Una vista del lago. Las flores de hardhack, Spiraea douglasii, no salen todavía; las que se ven son las del año pasado.
6. Siéntate y descansa un rato.
7. Parte de la escalera que nos regresa al area de descanso. Aquí se ven las flores blancas de thimbleberry.
8. Ya en camino de regreso, me detuve para mirar esas montañas. La del centro es Jagged Mountain (Montaña Accidentada o Irregular). La foto que se ve en Wikipedia  la sacaron de este mismo sitio, pero antes de que crecieran los alisos para llenar el espacio abierto.

Un post para Skywatch, donde se ven los cielos alrededor del mundo en esta semana.

Blink and you missed it

It was nice while it lasted. The snow. A few hours, a few centimetres deep, a few snowy branches. And then the rain washed it all away.

These are photos taken in late afternoon along the snowiest stretch of highway to the north, shortly before it started to rain again.

Just a light dusting on the hills.

Hemlock tips and snowy mountaintop. Hemlock trees have droopy tips.

Looking back.

The blue sky is also short-lived.

4:14 PM.

And that's it for winter, it looks like.

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Por fin tuvimos nieve. Por unas pocas horas, con unos pocos centímetros, unas cuantas ramas cargadas de nieve. Hasta que la lluvia llegó y se la llevó.

Estas fotos las saqué en media hora en la carretera al norte en el tramo donde hubo más nieve. Una hora más tarde, ya estaba lloviendo.

Chasing snow

Snow, they said. Rain and snow. But neither had showed up around home. I drove north, looking for snow. There was rain, in spots. Some 60 kilometres up, snow showed up on the mountains, but before I could find a clear vantage spot, mist covered them and it started to rain again. I went on as far as Lake Hoomac, 130 km. from home; here there was no snow anywhere, and everything was dim and green. I followed a trail until I found it underwater, turned back and headed home. And the snow caught me, just south of the lake.

Coming down fast. Taken through the windshield. (I was parked.)

It didn't last.

13 minutes later.

And then the rain came down and washed it all away.

But halfway home, I passed an elk standing by the highway. I stopped and turned around, and eased up towards him. Not slow enough; he went back into the forest, and there I saw him join a small herd. They all melted into the dark woods. It was past 5 o'clock, and sunset was before 4:30.

In all this time here, I have seen elk only once before, near Tahsis. So this was a treat.

And then a few minutes later, I saw another one, waiting to cross the road, it seemed. This time I was smarter; stopped the car, turned off the motor and lights. He was still visible in my rear-view mirror. I got the camera ready, and checked again. He was gone. Oh, well. Two elk sightings! And snow! Made my day!

It rained most of the way home. They're promising us snow for Tuesday. We'll see.

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Nieve, dijeron. Iba a nevar. Y llover también. Pero ni lluvia ni nieve se veían por mi casa. Tomé la carretera hacia el norte, buscando la nieve. Sí había lluvia por la carretera, en algunos tramos. Unos 60 kilómetros de casa, se veía nieve en las montañas, pero antes de que encontrara un sitio para estacionarme, bajó la neblina, escondiendo todo, y empezó a llover de nuevo. Seguí adelante hasta el lago Hoomac, a 130 km. de casa. Allí ni señas de nieve había y todo era verde oscuro. Bajé hasta el lago por un sendero, pero tuve que desistir cuando encontré la ruta bajo agua. Hora de regresar a casa. Y la nieve me agarró un poco al sur.

Fotos: Nevando fuerte. Saqué las fotos protegida por el parabrisas. (Y sí, estaba estacionada.) Y la segunda foto, 13 minutos más tarde; ya había cesado de nevar.

Y luego vino la lluvia y lo lavó todo.

Pero. A medio camino de regreso, pasé un alce parado al lado del camino. Me dí vuelta, y me acerqué lentamente. No era suficiente. El alce regresó al bosque, y allí lo ví reunirse con varios otros; todos se perdieron entre el bosque oscuro. Ya era noche, como las 5 de la tarde, y el sol se había puesto media hora antes.

En todo el tiempo aquí solo he visto un alce una vez antes, cerca de Tahsis. Así que esto era como un regalo.

Y unos minutos más tarde, vi otro, también al lado de la carretera. Esta vez tuve más cuidado. Detuve el coche de inmediato, apagué el motor y las luces. Miré en el espejo. El alce seguía allí. Preparé la cámara y miré de nuevo, pero ya se había largado. Ni modo. Pero, ¡Dos observaciones de alces! ¡Y nieve! ¡Un dia buenísimo!

Llovió casi todo el camino de vuelta a casa. Nos prometen nieve para el martes. Ya veremos.

Looking down the Narrows

 I'm not sure how I feel about this.

The highway going north from Campbell River, for the most part, runs between stands of forest; a green wall to either side. It follows the coast at first, and in spots on bright days I see glimpses of blue beyond the trees to the east. I sometimes wished I could see the ocean beyond.

And last week, the wish was granted. A large chunk of forest was cut down, clearcut, leaving only a few trees below, along the rocky shore, creating a new viewpoint, looking straight down the Seymour Narrows, past the Ripple Rock trail end.

Good. Or not so good; it's destroyed habitat, home to bears and deer and birds and little, scurrying critters. And water will wash soil and construction debris down into the intertidal zone, killing as it goes. Not so good.

But the view is nice.

Straight ahead, Seymour Narrows, Menzies Bay to the left, Discovery Passage to the right.

From no other spot in this area is there a direct view of the Narrows. This is the spot where, in 1958, they blew up two rocks, actually an underwater mountain peak, that blocked the narrow passage. The Narrows here, even today, measures under 750 metres across. In those days, Ripple Rock lay in wait just below the surface of the water, in the centre of this channel. The narrow channel intensifies strong tidal currents, and eddies around the rocks created a major hazard for ships.

In 1791, the explorer George Vancouver described the passage as "one of the vilest stretches of water in the world". ... At least 20 large and 100 smaller vessels were badly damaged or sunk between 1875 and 1958. (Wikipedia)

These days, this is the main shipping route heading north in the protected waters between Vancouver Island and the mainland.

Google map of the Narrows.

Ripple Rock explosion, April 5, 1958. From approximately the same spot as today's photo.
Photo by Sherwood Lett, public domain.

For more on this engineering feat, see the story by the Campbell River museum, including many photos.

There's another view of Seymour Narrows, but from the side, at the MacBlo log sorting site, in my post, here.

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No se como pensar en esto.

La carretera que va hacia el norte desde Campbell River, por la mayor parte pasa por en medio de bosques, con algo así como paredes verdes, muy altos, de ambos lados. En el principio, sigue la costa y de vez en cuando cuando hay sol, se pueden ver chispas de color de mar entre las ramas al este. A veces quisiera ver el mar, allí abajo.

Pues se me cumplió mi deseo. La semana pasada, cortaron un gran tramo del bosque, lo cortaron al ras, abriendo una nueva vista mirando directamente hacia el Estrecho Seymour, y el final del sendero hacia Ripple Rock. (Piedra de las Olas) 

Bueno. O no tan bueno; se destruyó un buen habitat, el hogar de venados y osos y miles de pequeñas criaturitas activas. Y el agua, ya suelta, llevará el suelo y los desperdicios de la construcción abajo hacia el agua de la zona intramareal, matando mucho de los residentes.

No tan bueno.

Pero es una bonita vista.

Fotos: 

1. El Estrecho Seymour en en centro, la bahía Menzies a la izquierda, y el Pasaje "Discovery" a la derecha.
2. Mapa de Google
3. Foto de la explosión de las rocas, en abril de 1958, desde aproximadamente el mismo punto de vista.

Desde ningún otro punto hay una vista directamente hacia el estrecho. Este es el sitio donde, en el año 1958, explotaron un par de rocas, o en realidad, el pico de una montaña sub-acuática, que bloqueaban el pasaje estrecho. Aun hoy el Estrecho mide menos de los 750 metros de isla a isla. En esos dias, las rocas Ripple esperaban justo debajo del nivel del agua, en el mero centro del estrecho. Porque el pasaje es tan estrecho, las corrientes de las mareas se vuelven muy furetes, y las rocas creaban torbellinos que eran un gran peligro para las embarcaciones.

En 1791, el explorador George Vancouver describió el pasaje como "uno de los peores trechos de agua en el mundo". ... Por lo menos 20 barcos grandes y 100 más pequeños se hundieron aquí entre 1875 y 1958. (Wikipedia)

Hoy en dia este es la ruta principal para los barcos que pasan hacia el norte en el estrecho protegido entre la isla y el continente.

Para saber más sobre esta hazaña de los ingenieros, el museo de Campbell River tiene un buen artículo con muchas fotos, aquí.

Two minute photo op

Driving home in the rain yesterday, I saw a hawk in a tree and did a U-turn to park underneath it. Though it was early afternoon, the light was almost gone, so that my old eyes barely registered a bit of brownish colour in the tail feathers. The camera sees better.

First shot. A red-tailed hawk, dark morph. 1:21 PM

How do they hear the shutter click from inside the car? As soon as I took a photo, the hawk dropped off his branch and flew to a tree farther down the highway. I followed and parked again. This time, he was "hiding" in a tangle of branches.

"You here again?"

"I heard that!" 1:22

Turning his back on me. 1:22:50 Rain on the windshield.

"I can't be having with this!" 1:23:09

Total time, two stops; less than 2 minutes.Why does he perch right beside a busy highway if he doesn't want visitors?

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Llovía, como siempre. Aun cerca del mediodia, no había mucha luz. En camino a casa por la carretera al norte, vi un gavilán en un árbol. Me di vuelta y me estacioné debajo de su árbol. Con la poca luz, y mis ojos viejos, casi no se veían colores; apenas podía distinguir el color café de la cola. La cámara ve las cosas más claro.

1. Primera foto. Un ratonero de cola roja, Buteo jamaicensis. ¿Cómo es que pueden oir el click de la cámara, aun dentro del coche? En cuanto sonó, el ave abandonó su rama, y fue a parar en un árbol más denso, un poco adelante. Yo le seguí. 1:21 PM.
2. Segunda foto, en el nuevo sitio. — Tu aquí, otra vez?
3. — ¡Eso lo oí! 1:22
4. Me da la espalda. 1:22:50
5. Y se va. — ¡Esa intrusión no la aguanto! — dice.  1:23:09

Tiempo en total: menos de 2 minutos. Si no quiere visitas, ¿porqué se sienta justo al lado de una carretera bien frequentada?

Rest stop foragers

Crows and Steller's Jays, unquenchable beggars, hang around highway rest stops; you never know what someone might be wanting to drop off!

I had a bag of peanuts in the car.

"Hurry up with that bag!"

"Well?"

"About time!"

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Los cuervos y los arendajos (Cyanocitta stelleri), pordioseros descarados, esperan junto a los áreas de descanso por si alguien trae desperdicios comestibles.

Yo traía una bolsita de cacahuates.

Mixed flock

Something must have smelled rotten. (That's "delicious" in turkey vulture language.) A half-dozen or so turkey vultures and a pair of eagles were circling, circling, circling over a spot just beyond the trees bordering the highway north.

The highway shoulder where I parked was on the outer edge of their circle.

Cropped photo; the bald red head catches the light when he turns to look me over.

The underside of the wings is a pale grey. Wingspan: up to 70 inches, 178 cm, 1 3/4 metres. Wider than I am tall, by half a foot.

Turkey vultures can glide on the thermals for hours without flapping their wings, steering with those "finger" feathers, open in the first photo above, closed here.

And this I've never seen before: a pair of eagles was circling along with the vultures.

Off in the distance. The eagle is on the far outer edge of their circle.

The eagle is larger than the vultures, but not by much. The wingspan is up to 80 inches. And they do flap their wings as they turn. And even at a distance, the white head and tail are noticeable.

One last photo: a vulture as I mostly saw them, speeding away behind the power lines and trees.

I drove on up to the Sayward Junction and came back about an hour later. There were no vultures or eagles in the sky any more. They must have finally settled in to the feast.

Looking back, looking up

It was long ago. Long, long ago. Our car had a wide ledge behind the back seat, with the rear window slanting down over it. It was my bed when we were travelling. I lay there watching the tops of the trees slide by, watching the night settle in, turning the greens into blacks against a blue-black sky.

Looking back. Campbell River, 76 km.The overpass is a logging road.

 
Dad slept during the mornings, then drove through the afternoon and night. We averaged, back then, about 300 miles a day, crossing and re-crossing the continent on two-lane highways. My brothers slept on the back seat, Mom nodded off in front. I watched the sky and the tree line.

Bridge over a creek

A few years later, Dad drove a '34 Dodge. The back-seat ledge was too small, and I was too big by then, anyhow. I sat behind Dad, leaning forward against his seat, (no seat belts in those days!) watching the road while he drove. In the blue distance, a glow in the sky meant we would be passing a town, a moving light was a car coming our way. There weren't many of those.

The trees lose their upper greenery in the winter storms.

Down the west coast, the skyline featured hills clad with evergreens. Then there were the flats through Arizona and New Mexico; here I watched the heat shimmers over the road, and the scrub bushes sprinkled across the dry land. Cotton fields down the Mississippi, urban sprawl up the east coast. I missed my treetops.

Sky and spikes over Rooney Lake (down in the valley)

I grew up, drove my own cars, watched the skyline up and down the continent; rocky hills in Mexico, green jungles in Guatemala, towering mountains in Oregon, beckoning glaciers in the north country; here the glow on the horizon at night was the northern lights.

Dropping into the Woss valley. The town is surrounded by tall peaks, 1600 m (5250 feet) and higher. I don't know which ones these are.

Time runs on. I'm back more or less where I started. And I drive with one eye on the treetops and the mountains ahead. They draw me on, around the next bend, over the next hill, deep into the valleys; I want to stop to look, to delight in the view, but the road holds me in a hypnotic grip.

Snags, tall trees, and a logging truck warning.

I drove to Woss for coffee and a sandwich a couple of days ago. Three hundred kilometres round-trip. An expensive sandwich. The ever-changing skyline made it worth my while. Nearing Woss, I stopped several times to take its photo.

Down, down, down. The valley is deep.

As long as the hills stay green, I can drive forever.

Criss-cross skies. Contrails and blowing clouds.

A Skywatch post.