I awoke yesterday morning at Lake Crescent before first light. Stepping
outside my cabin to sniff the air, I could feel the gently falling rain.
The calls of murrelets drifted down from the fog which lured me into the
forest. Before I knew it, I was wandering along the trail in unlaced hiking
boots and pajamas. At Barnes Creek I stopped to listen to the song of the
dipper while I leaned on the world's largest grand fir.
About this time, the sun was cresting Mt. Storm King, revealing a
glistening canopy of epiphytes. This inspired me to hike up to the first
overlook. Two hours later I was far above lake among the Saskatoon berry
and brain piles (spires of pillow lava). A sign on the trail warned of lands
end; steep cliffs & rough terrain. Hazardous conditions it stated; those
wishing genetic representation in future generations should turn back now. A
patch of snow near the summit was beckoning, so I sauntered onward.
The landscape was becoming wild and unforgiving. Knarred yew and
mazanita grew among the hard scrabble. A series of ropes assisted in
navigating the razor thin ridges and talus slopes. Basaltic gargoyles
appeared like apparitions from the mists. Across the valley, I could hear
boulders on the nape of Lizard Head loose their purchase in the morning
thaw. They careered down the slope and broke upon the forest hundreds of
feet below. At last I gained the summit and there was my patch of snow and
a commanding view of Olympic interior
The first bird I noticed was an AE-6 Navy jet screaming past at eye
level. He was in an awful hurry to get out to the coast. I wondered in
these days of new militarism if his sights were set on Sealion Rocks. As
the silence returned, the song of varied thrush drifted up from below. The
rising sun burnt away the last of the mists.
I noticed that I was not alone. There were small flocks of red
crossbills bounding above the canopy. The males (suffing from spawning
stupor) flew about in great circles and sang on the wing. The Douglas fir
trees were decorated with developing cone primordial, no doubt bringing the
females into condition. It has been a good week for birds. I have heard
four pygmy owls in as many days. Locations include Salt Creek, East Beach
on Lake Crescent, and two locations on the Tonandos Peninsula (Squamish
Harbor and Thorndyke Head). Three of these locations were in stands with
old-growth characteristics. In addition, Saw-whet owls were heard calling at
Rosemary Inn at Lake Crescent and at Thorndyke Head. I wonder how these
little owls deal with the barred owls that now call from many quarters.
Eight ring-necked ducks were also at East Beach. Long into the night, a
red-necked grebe was calling on Lake Crescent.
I noticed that I had not reached the summit of Mt Stormking; this
knoll was just one of its many ramparts. A way-trail continued upwards and
disappeared among the crags. However, that was a journey best left for
another day. That is what I love about the wild Olympics; there is always
another path inviting exploration.

Fred Sharpe
Lake Crescent
fsharpe at sfu.ca