Valley of the Giants - 6-4-16

6-4-16

My wife and I had been noticing that the weatherman was predicting a hot weekend, so we batted around a few ideas of what to do, where we might go to escape the heat.  We toyed with the idea of going over to the coast where it was not going to be quite 70 degrees.  This would have been quite nice so long as the wind did not kick up like it usually does when it is so hot inland.  After all, it was supposed to reach 97, quite hot for early June here in the Willamette Valley.  

Some time on Friday, we kicked around the idea of heading to the Valley of the Giants, about 30 miles west of where we live.  This is a 70 acre tract of land set aside, spared from the logging interests, where there was still a true “old growth” forest, with Douglas Fir trees 450 years old and 8-10 feet in diameter.  This area was basically half way from the western edge of the Willamette Valley to the coast. It should be cooler there with all the shade and a river slicing through the middle of it.  The ride there is nice, taking over an hour, even though only 30 miles away.  The gravel logging roads dictate that one must drive around 30 mph most of the way.   

Well, last night my wife jammed her toes into the futon leg, which basically put her out of commission, limping around afterward.  She did not sleep well either on account of that.  So after breakfast, about 08:30, I headed out.  I have been there almost annually for some 35 years.  Of course, I had ulterior motives for going there at this time of year.  It is one place here in Polk County where there is the possibility of finding a Harlequin Duck.  Back in ‘92 a BLM worker accurately described a male sitting on a rock.  The year after some minor surveys were done and a few more birds were detected.  I have looked for such every time I have gone there, but have came away unsuccessful, so far.

There is a Dipper in this picture.  Can you find him?

Here he is at 75X zoom

I drove slowly, being in no hurry, especially when in view of the North Fork Siletz River where those sightings were.  I saw a few American Dippers, which live along such fast flowing rivers, as well as some Common Mergansers.  One must follow this river for about 6 miles as he drives to the Valley of the Giants.  About half way along here is a large pool which my family and I have cherished as our own “private” swimming hole.  It is about 30 X 50 feet, and some 10 feet deep.  One usually can’t swim here until late August when the water is finally warm enough to do so.  At those times there are usually some steelhead trout hanging around in the bottom.  One such time, when we brought some goggles, there were about 70 such fish, all about 20-24 inches long, all swirling around in a large school.  The water was so clear it could have passed for a Jaque Costeau movie clip.  For old times sake I stopped there and climbed down to the pool’s edge so I could take some pics.  I have to admit it brought back some fond memories.

Our private swimming hole.  You can jump off the rock wall on the right.

Another shot of the swimming hole

Another Dipper upstream from the swimming hole

All along the drive there I had not seen one vehicle, either coming or going.  I was wondering if I was going to have the Valley of the Giants all to my self.  However, while I was at the pool, 8 cars drove by in quick succession, so I figured there would be plenty of company now.  Having heard Ruffed Grouse at the location, I was hoping to experience such again, but now knew my chances were pretty slim with so many people going there.  So I moseyed along until I got to the trailhead, assuming the group would be a ways along on the trail.  At least others were thinking along the same lines as me, going to a cool place to escape the heat.

Sign at the trailhead

It was still not very hot when I hit the trail, and I was enjoying the challenges of trying to do some photography with aperture and shutter settings with a bright sky and dark forest, and ended up taking over 100 pics in order to figure it out.  The trail leads down hill, across a bridge over a river, into the main part of the forest, loops around back uphill then returns to the river, and you then retrace your route back across the bridge and back up to the trailhead.  There is a picnic table just across the bridge where I ran into the group, who said they were a hiking club from Dallas, 10 miles from where I live.  I did not recognize any of them, so figured if I kept walking along, I might just hear a grouse before the group disturbed the serenity of the place, but no such luck.  

Here are various shots in this old growth forest:

Bridge across the river

River upstream from the bridge

Me in front of a large Doug Fir

Spider Web

The right side is about 7 feet high!

A mother teaching her daughter to not be afraid of heights

About half way along the loop is, or I should say was, the largest tree, which was blown over in the Columbus Day storm of ’62.  Someone had sawed a wedge out of it so you can walk through and originally had left the slice on the ground next to the downed tree.  Many years ago, when our daughter was little, we counted some 450 tree rings on this slice.  It had long since been broken up by demolition experts bent on defacing nature, and I did not see any traces of it at all on this trip.

It might be a surprise for non birders to understand that such places are not very rich in bird life, but what was there today was quite vocal:  Pacific Wrens and Pacific-slope Flycatchers were seemingly always singing within earshot.  Others I heard along the way were Varied Thrushes, Steller’s Jays, Swainson’s Thrushes, and Wilson’s Warblers.  Before the arrival of the Barred Owl to the northwest, Spotted Owls patronized the place, but the Barred’s have pushed them out, bullies that they are.

By the time I got back to my car there were 12 vehicles at the trailhead, including mine.  It was hot too.  Not long after leaving I turned on the AC as it was necessary now.  I did not scrutinize the river much on the way out, looking for those mystical Harlequin Ducks, so maybe another day and heaven’s blessings will bring one into view.   About half way back a Ruffed Grouse was just sitting on the side of the road, where I often will see one, so this was a nice bird for the year.

Back home I told my wife about what she missed.  Guess I will have to do a repeat trip now.  Maybe we will wait until the water is warmer. 

Here are a few of my better pics to enjoy.