Baskett Slough NWR

Full in the midst of his own strength he stands,
Stretching his brawny arms and leafy hands.
~Virgil

Oaks cover the low hills of Baskett Slough NWR in a microcosm of olden-days western Oregon. A short year-round trail and a longer spring/summer trail allow a glimpse back in time to what much of the Willamette Valley must have looked like almost two hundred years ago when David Douglas arrived.

On a pleasant, sunny fall day, we walked the short Baskett Butte Loop Trail, crunching over the brown oak leaves. Overhead, we heard the purring call of white-breasted nuthatches, who so love the oaks. Deer repose and graze, only cautious, not fearful, of us human invaders.

Management of Baskett Slough is evident here, where the undergrowth is sparser than a typical westside forest. Nature and natives used to perform this management; lightning and purposely-set fires cleared the undergrowth, preventing conifers from taking over, as they have done since fires have been supressed.

I have fond memories of oaks from childhood. The grounds of the school I attended had incredibly huge oaks in them. The smell of oaks in the fall takes me right back to grade school, when we'd run around at recess stomping on what we called “puff balls.” I didn't learn until much later that these little spotted balls are the tree's reaction to gall wasps. The wasp lays its eggs inside the oak leaf, causing the creation of a shell to form around the larval wasp. We'd stomp on them after they'd fallen to the ground, breaking the shell open, and a little puff of some powdery substance would issue forth.

Baskett Slough NWR is located near Salem, Oregon and nearer to Rickreall. From Highway 99W turn west onto gravel Colville Rd and go just about 2 miles to the trailhead. Two other areas of white oak rehabilitation in the Portland area are the Tualatin River NWR and Mt. Talbert.

To Boot

Looks like our two weeks of winter are coming to an end. The progression of the accumulation of precipitation was matched by the progression of the height of my footwear.

New Year, Naturally

Seasonal Guide to the Natural Year: A Month by Month Guide to Natural Events : Oregon, Washington and British Columbia by James Luther Davis

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
Should be on the shelf of every nature lover in the northwest. Places to go, things to see and you'll probably learn something just holed up inside reading. Know the difference between Rocky Mountain elk and Roosevelt elk? Know what a drey is? Did you know that potato bugs are terrestrial crustaceans? I didn't either.

Get this book.

And oh, the choices in life. It looks like there may be an update or possibly a revised version of the same material coming out next month--you might want to wait.

Corvus

People seem to have a visceral dislike of crows. I have never understood this. True, they are as black as a starless night, and their "song" has as much charm as the neighbor's car alarm. But have you ever watched crows playing with the wind? I cannot think of any other way to describe their flight on gusty days.

I've also noticed that the wing beat of crows somehow lacks the urgency of other birds, kind of a "Dude, I'm flying, don't bother me" type of flapping. Crows don't seem to be too worried about our unkind reaction to them.

Kenn Kaufman notes that crows will carry hard-shelled mollusks high in the air and drop them on the ground to break them open. I once watched this behavior practiced on a walnut. The crow repeatedly flew up in the air, dropping the walnut on the pavement in a parking lot. After several attempts, I took pity on the bird, walked over, stomped on the walnut, then withdrew. Moments later, the crow returned to gobble up his prize. Did I see a nod in my direction as he swallowed?

Fayre Dust

In the lowlands of the Pacific Northwest, we joke about our two weeks of winter, two weeks of summer and the remainder of the year as alternating between spring and fall. Snowfall west of the Cascade Mountains is as rare as a winter swallow (thanks, Balzac). Yet, here we are today with snow on the ground, frigid temperatures and an east wind that stirs the dry snow into glistening whorls.

Strangely Absent from the Top Five Tourist Stops in Astoria

I imagine participants in any hobby or pastime have their communal quirks. For birders, one of those has to be our affinity for “waste water treatment facilities” (otherwise known as sewage ponds). Water is water to the birds, so like birds, birders in winter flock to these man-made “ponds.” The Astoria “Ponds” area is just the kind of place only birds, and birders, could love.

Viewing is a challenge because a chain-link fence completely surrounds the ponds. It's possible to walk the fence line, but prepare to sacrifice skin and fabric to the blackberry thorns. Nevertheless, these ponds rate high with us for a tufted duck we saw there several years ago.



For great views of the Columbia River and opposite Washington shore, try the 1/4 mile trail over a wooden bridge at a small pullout before you reach the gate for the ponds. This dirt path cuts through scotch broom and brushy thickets, with some water views, before you pop out onto railroad tracks rusty with disuse. Additional (possibly more fastidious?) water birds float the river. Bald eagles glide by. We saw other people walking and jogging(!) on the railroad bed, so railroad traffic, if it occurs at all, must be minimal.

At the eastern edge of Astoria, from Hwy 30 (Marine Drive), turn north on 45th St., then right on Cedar, left on 51st St, right on Birch, left on 53rd, right on Alder and left on 54th, half a block to the pullout on the left.