June 26th - Not the Hike I'd Planned

Sunrise over Hood Canal

As summer had come into full swing, I started itching to get up into the Olympics. For Jefferson County, there were three or four different hikes that all held some temptations for me. On this particular day, I had originally planned to do a little backpacking trip, but wind and sprinkles made me think better of it. If the end goal is owling, why let the wind get involved? 

Leland Lake

Leland Lake

At sunrise, I was near Shelton, making my way up Hood Canal. The first destination was Leland Lake. I'd seen reports for two species of interest, Bullock's Oriole and Western Bluebird. They both seemed off, or perhaps seemed okay if there was a broader area that had been surveyed for that report. You don't find out by not looking, though! And both species would be a nice surprise for the year. 

I pulled up on the road that enters from the south end and took a look at the clearcut immediately to the north. It has a Western Bluebird look to it, although it's not a lot of continuous space, and is right next to a freeway! Nothing seemed to be flying in that space, so I just enjoyed the other typical birds in the morning chorus: Black-headed Grosbeak, Warbling Vireo, and (throughout the morning) Willow Flycatchers. 

This road curves up and around to the west side of the lake, and then along the south edge of it. I drove this slowly, pulling over now and then if I suspected something sounded a little oriolical. Once I hit the parking lot for the fishing pier, my early departure started to hit me, and I just pulled in, windows down, for a little nap. As I drifted off, I listened to each bird call, picking up nothing new for the year. As soon as I woke up, I listened, and heard what sounded like a single Evening Grosbeak (173 for the year!) flying overhead. This is one that I'd normally expect to find more often, but it's a code 3 in Jefferson County - seen annually but a little difficult to find. 

From here, I drove around the lake and started up Snow Creek Road. This took me to some clearcuts, where I enjoyed Olive-sided Flycatchers and House Wrens singing loudly. Again, I could imagine bluebirds here, but I heard and saw no signs of them. 

Quilbillies

I stopped in at Quilbillies and had the best veggie hash I've ever had at a restaurant. 

The trick? They're getting their veggies from Midori Farm, thirty seconds up the road. I asked the waitress about it, and she told me, "It's amazing, and honestly, I hadn't heard of half of the vegetables that go into it." Squash, beets, and greens - just delicious. They do change it as the available produce changes, so this is worth a stop *any* time in summer. 

I'd been told as I first came in that a particular seat was reserved. As I worked on breakfast and checked emails for work, the couple arrived. The waitress stepped out and gave assistance spending a few minutes lending an arm to help the couple inside. This just tracks. Every time I've been into Quilbillies, they've been so friendly, and it surprises me not at all to see them giving this kind of treatment to some regulars. You see the "honored guest" section on a menu in some restaurants and wonder what it really means to MegaRestaurantCo. Here, there was no confusion. 

Boulton Farms

No owls here!

It was too late in the day to check the fields for Barn Owls, but I thought the barn here could be worth checking. I pulled up and saw a couple of the farm workers loading up a truck for the start of their work day. I asked about the owls, and if they had been nesting in the barn. They let me check, although from the sounds of it, the Barn Owl - regularly heard in evening hours a little farther north on this road - did not seem to be using the barn, relying perhaps on a copse of trees for nesting instead. I stepped in and checked, and thanked them for the information. Nice folks!

North Beach

My target here was simple - a Rock Wren that had been seen on the beach. Just like... a simple 3-mile beach hike, timed with the tides! After the hike, my plan was to check several beaches in the county in hopes of finding a Black-legged Kittiwake that had been bopping around from spot to spot. 

OH.

Black-legged Kittiwake (174)

This little guy decided to save me some trouble, and just appeared at the beach where I was about to set off on my hike. I'll say honestly, at the start of the year, I carried around some stress about actually being able to recognize this species. One that I'd only seen once before, when someone pointed one out in a scope from a billion miles away. But one landed in King County in early June on Vashon Island. I'd gone out to see it and had been texting Kevin Black about it. 

I can't remember at all what he was telling me. Something something field marks. The blah blahs are longer/shorter/darker than a blah blah gull. He really tries, but sometimes it's just pouring into a full glass of water. 

"I will not remember this."

"Look... it just looks like a Pokemon."

Yahtzee. And it's hard to say exactly why Kevin is right about this, but I agree completely. 

Quite happy, I started my hike. It was actually a good amount of time before low tide, but things were already very walkable. I had no idea that this beach went so long! One of those where you can make out your end goal, and it just always seems a little closer... but still far away. 

There were actually some good tide-pooling spots as the water continued to recede, exposing more and more of the shore. 

Aggregate anemone

? :) Already beyond my ken. Kelpweed Lettuce is what I'd call it in an effort to cover all bases.

The rocks always grab my attention too. I love finding ones with widely different colors and composition. 

A geological and botanical celebration of pride, I suppose

Several people walked the shore very meticulously scanning the ground. I finally gave in and asked one of these people after about two miles. It turns out that this beach is actually quite famous in glass-hunting circles. If I'd even started to look for those little treasures, I may never have made it out to McCurdy Point!

But I did, and this little guy didn't disappoint: 

Rock Wren! 175 species for the year.

From there, three miles back on the beach, and a decision to call it a day! I did try for a Least Flycatcher in Kitsap on the trip home but came up empty.