A New Perspective: The Ecologic and Geologic Oasis of Stephenson Canyon, Bremerton.

A sudden wave of nostalgia washed over me as I followed my friend and Kitsap Sun reporter Josh Farley into the depths of Stephenson Canyon. I had last stepped foot here over five years ago, at the very start of the "Kitsap Waterfall Survey" project. 

The canyon was filled with various shades of greens and browns, exploding with the growth of mid-spring. Carpets of sword ferns filled the understory, with large Big-Leaf Maples, Western Red Cedars, and Douglas Firs creating the canopy a hundred feet above our heads. And of course, down at the bottom, Stephenson Creek chattered away, beckoning. 

A "pocket wilderness" inside Bremerton city limits. 

I've learned so much since I first stepped into the canyon. In 2015 I couldn't have cared less what kind of plants and ecology the canyon hosted; I only cared about rocks. Now, I was taking it all in through a new set of skills and experiences. I looked up and around as well as down, remarking the enigma of such a beautiful Pacific Northwest oasis in the middle of a significant city. Craig Romano described it well in Urban Trails: Kitsap when he called it "...a pocket wilderness that feels like it can be deep in the Olympics." 

Of course, it wasn't entirely without flaw. Invasive English Ivy besieged several trees on the rim and down into the canyon, and trash and old city refuse was abundant. A community cleanup effort here would probably breathe some new life into the area, and the city would do well to pay more attention and protect this beautiful piece of borderline old-growth ecosystem. 

Moving on, we descended into the canyon and crossed the creek, moving our eyes away from the canopy and down to the ground. Various cobbles and boulders lined the stream channel, and the footpath traversed some small but textbook stream terraces that probably get a new layer of sand and mud every time the creek floods. 

Our main destination, of course, was "Stephenson Canyon Falls." The little cascade I "discovered" so many years ago. We rounded the corner, and the first words that flashed into my head were, "I'm an idiot." 

Back in 2015, I had no geology education other than a couple basic geology classes, and I hadn't done a whole lot of research on the geology of the bedrock underlying the Kitsap Peninsula. The extent of my knowledge was that most of the bedrock in the area was basalt. So I had assumed that the falls dropped over basalt. I was dead wrong. 

"Stephenson Canyon Falls" with slightly dipping beds of the Blakeley Formation. The Falls drop over possible sandstone, while the satchel sits on mudstone/siltstone.

"Stephenson Canyon Falls" actually drops over a resistant ledge of the "Blakeley Formation," a much younger rock with a completely different origin than the basaltic rock that makes up the Blue Hills. The area around the falls exposes two types of rock within the Blakeley Formation. The base of the falls is made up of siltstone or mudstone, and the falls themselves drop over what might be a sandstone with larger softball-sized class embedded within it. I have my own interpretations of what this layer might be, but I'm going to hold off on that until a later date after I do more research. 

Downstream of the falls, Stephenson Creek flows over and alongside some of the nicest Glacial Till deposits that I've seen on the Peninsula. Blue Gray concrete-like deposits form shelves and small embankments, peppered with glacial erratics and small potholes drilled during times of flooding or high water.

An exposure of glacial till with a carved pothole at the bottom of Stephenson Canyon. 

After viewing the falls and surrounding geology, it was time for Josh to head back. We made our way downstream again, where we stumbled upon an absolutely titanic Douglas Fir Tree, possibly an old-growth giant from before the first caucasian colonists arrived in Western Washington. It was a sight to behold and was a great symbol that despite the surrounding urban sprawl, Stephenson Canyon is still very much wild.