Happenings at the Duck Pond

I'm lucky that the town where I live has plenty of natural areas to observe and photograph wildlife.  Throughout the spring I made a regular circuit of these parks, trying to get photos of the latest feathered arrivals.  But the one park I had the most luck spotting birds was the most unlikely place of them all.

It was a "Cedar waxwing eating berries" kind of day.

In a nearby suburban neighborhood lies a small lake.  This lake is ringed by homes on three sides, with a small wetland anchoring the fourth.  Created by the developer of this area, the lake was built by deepening a natural wetland and trenching its nearby creek.  A mile-long paved path circles the lake, and three wooden fishing docks extend into its waters.  There's a playground at one end, and benches and picnic tables on the shore.  Wildly popular with locals, there's always lots dog walkers, runners, and fisherman here.  When my kids were little, I used to bring them here to feed the ducks.  Thus, it became nicknamed the "duck pond."

A very talented bird!

You wouldn't think such a well-used suburban lake would be home to a great variety of birds and waterfowl.  But it is!

Gorging on elderberries

In the winter, ducks of many varieties swim in the lake's waters.  They are joined by huge flocks of Canada Geese.  In the spring, several species of migratory birds stop by on their way to summer quarters.  And of course, there are birds that make their homes here year-round.  

This one is eating the green berries

Besides photographing the cute ducklings and goslings that are born here every spring, this year I was lucky enough to catch the beautiful Cedar waxwings as they migrated through.  Several elderberry bushes were producing berries about that time, and Cedar waxwings love them.  I soon learned these berry bushes were the place to find waxwings.

Green heron catching a fish

The other unusual bird I've had luck spotting at the duck pond is the elusive green heron.  Normally a very shy, secretive bird, I've observed at least two adult green herons fishing on the lake's brushy shoreline.

Mama green heron building her nest

One mother green heron even built a nest in a tree in close proximity to the paved walking path.  She just hatched a brood of four babies (photos coming soon!) 

Newly fledged barn swallows beg their mother for food

One day I spotted a group of newly fledged barn swallows sitting on a branch overhanging the water.  Since the babies were now old enough to be on their own, the mother was trying to feed them less.  But every time mom flew by, the youngsters made a ruckus, opening their mouths and flapping wings.  Typical teen-agers!

Juvenile green heron practicing fishing

A nest of green heron babies recently fledged and could easily be found along the shoreline.  It was fun to watch their antics.  I watched one little guy practice his fishing skills by capturing leaves from the water.  The birds didn't appear to be afraid of humans, or the many photographers vying for a picture.

Juvenile green heron 

The juvenile green herons were so cute - they hadn't yet lost their baby down on top.  I loved their fluffy little heads!

I love his fluffy head!

Because of the many bird species found at this lake, it's become a hot spot for birders and wildlife photographers.  I've met several local photographers here.  People carrying cameras with huge, white zoom lenses seem to attract each other!  A few of the photographers live nearby and seem to always be at the lake.  I've come to know a couple of them - it's always fun to chat about the latest bird sightings. 

Blue heron eating a fish

Of course, watching wildlife means you will also experience the "circle of life."  Since the "duck pond" is full of fish, it isn't only the fisherman that are catching.  One day I discovered the resident blue heron with a fish in his beak.  After shaking it around a bit, he opened his mouth and down it went!  And the other day I happened to look over the water and spot a Pied-billed grebe bob up with a crawdad.

Pied-billed grebe with a crawdad

 It's been a wonderful spring and summer thus far at the duck pond.  There's always something interesting to see in this most unlikely urban water body.

Spring Wildflower Explosion on Saddle Mountain

Amazing, breathtaking, spectacular, extraordinary, stunning, incredible, off-the-charts.  And I still don't think these superlatives adequately describe this spring's crazy wildflower bloom on Saddle Mountain.

Wild iris

The tallest peak in the Northern Coast Range, Saddle Mountain is known for its rare wildflowers and stunning summit viewpoint.  The mountain is named for it's double-peaked summit, which forms a "saddle" between the two high points.  Maintained by the Oregon State Parks system, a steep 2.5-mile trail takes hikers to the very top.  On a clear day one can see the distant Pacific Ocean and several Cascade peaks.  In May and June, wildflowers bloom profusely on the mountain's slopes.    

Indian paintbrush!

Saddle Mountain's hiking trail was closed from 2021 until fall of 2023 due to a broken bridge.  With the repairs finally completed, the trail was again open to hikers.  So one day in late May I rallied friends Debbie and Barry to go check it out.

Yellow monkeyflowers color the slope

Upon arrival, after some last-minute adjustments and trips to the rebuilt restrooms, my friends and I happily trotted past the trailhead sign.  The first half mile or so wandered through a lovely red alder forest, punctuated with a few massive tree stumps - remnants of huge old-growth conifers that towered here long ago, prior to the forest being logged.

More yellow goodness

From past hikes, I remembered Saddle Mountain's wildflower bloom didn't reach peak until mid to late June.  So I thought we'd be a bit early for wildflowers.  However once the alder forest gave way to open slopes, I realized that I couldn't have been more wrong!

Wow!  I've never seen so much yellow!

Looking ahead to the first large open slope, it seemed to be covered in large patches of yellow.  What was that?  Upon closer inspection, my friends and I realized those yellow patches were entirely made up of wildflowers.

Monkeyflower close-up

It was a monkeyflower super bloom.  Before today I'd only seen these thumb-sized, yellow flowers residing in small patches around wet areas, such as adjacent to mountain streams.  But today huge swaths of monkeyflowers covered the hillsides, painting slopes yellow.  I'd never seen such a large concentration of monkeyflowers anywhere.

But wait, there's more!

Wowza!  As you can probably guess, my camera came out of it's bag fast and stayed in my hands for a long while.  I assumed my usual hiking position lagging well behind my friends.  So. Many. Photo. Opportunities...

Sweeping coast range views

I thought maybe the first yellow hill was an anomaly, however climbing higher, I found more and more steep slopes also completely enveloped in monkeyflowers.  It was quite a sight!  To say I was giddy with joy was an understatement.

Huge flower meadow

The trail zig-zagged quite steeply up to the first summit area.  Before we reached the top, my friends and I passed through a huge meadow dotted with wildflowers of all shapes, sizes, and most importantly - colors.

More of the wildflower meadow

There was orange Indian paintbrush, yellow wallflowers, purple iris, pink sea thrift, and a bunch of white flowers I couldn't identify.  Now quite high on Saddle Mountain my friends and I were treated to panoramic views of the adjacent coast range mountains.  Sadly, most of them were marred with checkerboard areas of clear-cuts from logging. 

Can you spot the hikers?

Stretching away from Saddle Mountain's first summit was a promontory.  Many hikers venture out to its very tip, both for views and photo ops.  Hiking towards this yellow-spotted viewpoint, I noticed two tiny people standing at the edge.  Can you spot them in the above photo?

Final summit push

My friends and I decided to bypass the promontory viewpoint for the time being.  It was nearing the noon hour, and we all were looking forward to a lunch break on the second summit proper.

It's a steep trail to the summit

From summit No. 1, our trail dived downward into the "saddle" portion of the mountain.  At this low point, we gazed out in each direction, taking in the views and of course more wildflowers.  Then my friends and I geared up for the extremely steep push to the true summit.

Lots of lovely flowers along the way

Because Saddle Mountain is comprised of crumbly basalt rock, erosion is a huge problem.  It's easy to lose one's footing scrambling uphill through its loose, pebble-sized soil.  Trying to curb the trail degradation and give hikers a bit of stability, Oregon State Parks rebuilt many portions of Saddle Mountain's trail using a chicken wire surface.  Although it does provide a small amount of traction I'm not a fan.  If it gets a tiny bit wet, chicken wire is also slippery.  But the final summit segment is almost entirely comprised of this wire mesh.  Up my friends and I trudged, trying not to slip on the soil and the wire.

 

And more flowers!

Not only is this final segment slippery and wiry, it's also super steep.  Slowly my friends and I slogged uphill, stopping frequently to catch our breath.

Orange spots of paintbrush

The good thing about this uber-steep trail section?  The wildflowers lining the way were absolutely out of sight!  Making frequent photo stops (which conveniently morphed into opportunities for a bit of rest) I tried my best to capture all the glory.

The trail squeezes between two boulders

All my photo-lollygagging put me quite a bit behind.  Naturally, my friends reached the summit a full 10 minutes before I did.

Cloudy summit view

Finally on top, I gazed in all directions.  Bright yellow buttercups brightened the summit's perimeter.  Despite a cloudy sky, I enjoyed some nice views of the coast range.  Although this weather hid all the Cascade peaks, I was able to make out the faint blue horizon of the Pacific Ocean.  

Lunch time!

As is often the case, Saddle Mountain's summit was cold and windy.  Debbie, Barry and I added some layers and then sat down on the summit bench for a quick bite.

The trail back down.  Yes, it's that steep!

Due to the wind, my friends and I didn't linger long on the summit.  After a quick lunch break, it was time to head downhill to calmer and warmer weather.

More orange goodness

When terrain is so steep, the downhill trek is sometimes more treacherous than the uphill.  Such was the case descending Saddle Mountain's summit trail.  The steep, crumbly, chicken-wiry path forced us all to proceed with extreme caution.

Another technicolor meadow

Thankfully we all made it down with no mishaps.  And although I'd taken copious photographs on the uphill trip, the wildflowers were so amazing, I couldn't resist capturing a few more images on the descent.

Patch of sea thrift

Back through the flower fields, past the viewpoint, and once again traipsing by the blazing yellow slopes.  Still amazed by the sheer volume of monkeyflowers, I documented this rare superbloom event by capturing a bunch more images.

Flowers everywhere

What a day!  My friends and I were treated to a totally unexpected display of wildflower abundance.  I think we caught the bloom at or near peak.  We all felt lucky to have witnessed such a wonderful display of Nature's beauty.

Heading back downhill

Yes, I know I've saturated this post with a bazillion photos, but it was so amazing and unique I just couldn't help myself!  Hopefully you all enjoyed it too.

Making Friends on Mt. St. Helens

One of my favorite places to hike is at Washington State's Mt. St. Helens.  It's such a fascinating place - where else can you see the aftermath of an enormous volcanic eruption and witness the recovery of its surrounding area?  If you've followed my blog for any length of time, you have probably read posts from many of my hikes around this famous mountain.

In late spring, I always plan a visit to the mountain's north side to check out the wildflowers and look for wildlife.  Recent online hiking posts had mentioned numerous mountain goat sightings near Johnston Ridge.  Eager to see (and photograph, of course) the goats for myself, I rose early one late May morning for the long drive to the Hummocks Trailhead.

MSH in early morning light

Mountain weather is always unpredictable, and today was no exception.  Although the forecast called for sunny skies, as I drove the long highway to Coldwater Lake, my car was enveloped in a thick bank of fog.  There were no other vehicles on the road at this early hour, so I wasn't too worried.  Or so I thought - about 20 miles from my destination I came upon a pickup driving a bit slower than the speed limit.  There being no passing lanes, I had to tuck behind the vehicle and putz along.

A few Indian paintbrush were blooming

I told myself there wasn't any hurry, but it's always a bit frustrating to follow a vehicle that's traveling slower than you want to go.  Finally, a passing lane came into view and I sped past the slow truck.  I drove along through the thick fog, hoping no wildlife would pop into the road.  I did scare a bald eagle off of a deer carcass - that was exciting!

As the road climbed in elevation, the fog settled in the valleys, and surrounding mountains began to appear.  I spied Mt. St. Helens' deflated summit and smiled in joy.  I'd see her after all!  Then a sign indicated an overlook.  A fog-shrouded MSH summit?  Well, of course I had to stop for the photographic opportunities.

MSH slowly emerging from the fog

A lone car was parked at the overlook, its occupant a young man who was outside cooking his breakfast over a backpacking stove.  It appeared he'd slept in his car overnight, an observation verified when I said hello and we began to chat.  As I clicked away at the mountain, we both exclaimed at the wonderful view of MSH coming out of her foggy prison.  The man said he'd gotten some great nighttime photos of the mountain with the milky way as a backdrop.  I was instantly awed and jealous.

However, my pit stop at the overlook cost me my lead over the slow pickup.  As I readied myself to pull out of the parking area, the pickup passed by.  Again I was back in the rear position, eating its exhaust.  Good thing the trailhead wasn't far now!

Mountain peek-a-boo

As the road wound downhill, I was again enveloped in the thick fog.  The pickup ahead continued on the same course, and ended up turning into the Hummocks Trailhead, the same destination as me.  Emerging from my car, a man and woman from the pickup walked over to where I was parked.  The woman asked if I was hiking the Boundary Trail to Johnston Ridge, and if I was, could she join me?

Apparently, the woman's husband wasn't interested in hiking that far and she didn't want to hike alone.  Always one to enjoy company on the trail, I said "of course!"  The lady introduced herself as Linda - we then both had a good chuckle when I told her that was my name too.

Almost clear!

Linda's grown son was going to meet her here - but he was running late and planned to catch his mom on the trail.  So after donning my boots and eating a second-breakfast granola bar, I was ready to go.  My new hiking companion and I began our adventure from a very foggy Hummocks Trailhead.  The fog was so thick, it hid all the nearby scenery.  With both of us in search of mountain (and mountain goat) views, we both hoped it would dissipate as the day went on.

Wonderful views from the trail

Chatting as my new friend and I walked along, I discovered we had much in common.  Linda was a few years older than me, loved hiking, and was a member of a local outdoor group in her hometown.  She also was in to plants and birds, and could identify most of the local flora we passed by.  Unlike me, she loved backpacking and usually completed several trips over the summer.  

Red currant was blooming

It didn't take long for Linda's son to catch up to us.  He was a nice man, and it was heartwarming to see a son that loved to hike with his mother.  Our now band of three began climbing the Boundary Trail out of the flat Toutle River valley.  The higher we rose, the thinner the clouds became, and the mountain began giving us a few peek-a-boo views.  Finally, rounding a bend in the trail, MSH emerged from the fog in a most dramatic fashion.  Made for some wonderful images!

Panoramic viewpoint

A little over 2 miles in we came upon an impressive overlook.  The trail wandered onto a ridge, providing breathtaking front-and-center views of MSH.  Lucky for us, the fog was nearly gone by that time.  We took a short break to take photos and enjoy the scene.

My new friends take in the scenery

Another thing Linda and I had in common - we'd chosen to hike this particular trail in hopes of seeing mountain goats.  Both of us had read the same online trip reports, and seen the numerous goat photos posted by other hikers.  As we rounded another bend, Johnston Ridge and the visitor center came into view across a large valley.  Linda noticed a few tiny white dots on the slope directly below Johnston Ridge.  With the aid of her binoculars, she confirmed that the dots were mountain goats.

Mountain goat!

Although it was exciting to see the mountain goats, I wished that they were a bit closer.  Even with my 400mm zoom lens, they were too far away to get decent images.  However, the trail would take us closer to the slopes where they were sitting, so my friend and I hoped we'd get some better views.

Mama goat with baby hidden in bushes to the left

Onward we trekked.  Our group of three passed by the Loowit Viewpoint, where Linda and I scanned the hillsides for closer goats.  Linda's son decided to press on to Johnston Ridge Observatory, while we ladies chose to take a more leisurely pace.  After parting ways temporarily with her son, Linda and I continued walking towards Johnston Ridge.  We hadn't traveled far when she spotted several mountain goats on the slope ahead directly below the trail.  Although we couldn't get good photographs at our present location, there appeared to be a good viewing opportunity up the trail.

Another goat checking us out

Passing over a high spot on the trail that blocked all views of the mountain goats, we descended and rounded a bend and came upon a nice overlook with the goats in clear sight.  A young man with a long camera lens was set up here.  Approaching the photographer, I recognized him as the car camper I'd met at the viewpoint that morning.  Small world!

Linda, the young man, and I hung out for a bit, taking copious photos of the goats.  There were three adults.  Two of the adults were mama goats, with their tiny babies hidden in the nearby bushes.  The third goat was a single, resting in the shadow of a small rock face.  It was amazing to see these shaggy, white beasts at a close (but safe) distance.

Golden-mantled ground squirrel

After a few minutes, Linda decided to continue on to the observatory and catch up with her son.  Hoping that the goats would start moving around, I elected to stay put.  The young man also initially stayed, but after another five minutes, he too decided to head for Johnston Ridge.  I waited a bit longer, but after several minutes with no goat movement, I decided those guys weren't going anywhere soon.  Time to move on.

Mountain bluebird

I hadn't traveled far when I met Linda and her son coming in the opposite direction.  They were heading back to the trailhead - she had to be home by a certain time.  I was sorry to part ways with my new trail buddy so soon.  But before saying our goodbyes, I made sure to exchange contact information and friended her on Facebook.  Linda, it was great to hike with you!  Hopefully our trails will cross again in the future.

Goats resting below Johnston Ridge

I continued on to the Johnston Ridge Observatory.  Normally, this visitor's center is open by Mother's Day weekend.  However, a huge landslide took out the entrance road last spring and it had been closed ever since.  When the landslide happened, it stranded several visitors and their vehicles - the people had to be rescued by helicopter.  (You can read more about the landslide here)  It was a bit sad to see the shuttered visitor's center and have the entire viewing area to myself.  However, I wasn't quite all alone - the young man I'd met in the early morning hours was also here, camera in hand, watching another small group of mountain goats directly below.

 

Mother goat giving me the stink eye

I had another great conversation with the young man.  I learned he was a wildlife biologist, currently traveling between jobs.  He gave me a card with his website - which I'm now following.  It's called "A Woods Walk Photography" ( https://www.awoodswalk.com/) and you can sign up for his monthly newsletter.

Not only did we spot more mountain goats, the man also pointed out a mountain bluebird perched on a nearby tree.  It's handy to hang out with someone who watches wild animals for a living!

Afternoon clouds over the mountain

After lunch, more wildlife viewing, and a bit more great conversation, the young man bid me goodbye and headed further up the trail.  Since the observatory was my turn-around point, I began retracing my steps back to the trailhead.   

Wonderful views on the return trip

After hiking with people all morning, my return trip was a bit lonely.  The only stop I made was to check out the mountain goats between Johnston Ridge and Loowit Viewpoint.  The three goats were all in the same spots, however, one of the babies was now out in the open.  I snapped a few images of the cute little kid, while mama goat gave me the stink-eye.  By early afternoon, the fog had entirely cleared and I enjoyed wide-open vistas and slopes full of wild strawberry flowers as I rambled downhill.

Wild strawberry blooms lined the trail

Another great hike in the Mt. St. Helens area!  Not only did I enjoy dramatic, foggy scenery, I also got to see some mountain goats.  And I met three nice people - Linda, her son, and the young wildlife biologist.  A wonderful day indeed!