It's the middle of July, and that means that at 6,000 feet, exciting things are happening at Mount Rainier. The Marmots are running around in the meadows, the ground squirrels and chipmunks are beginning to gather food and nesting materials, and probably most exciting of all, the wildflowers are preparing for peak bloom here in just a couple short weeks.
A skittish Hoary Marmot along the Wonderland Trail at Sunrise. Photo by Micah K.
The past two weeks at Rainier I have seen such a dazzling array of wildflowers that it staggers the imagination. Even as a geology student, wandering through the trail and observing the various flora is just awesome. Couple this with the fun aspects of wildlife activity, and it makes for quite a treat. The other day at Sunrise I saw a chipmunk climb over ten feet into a tree and then hang upside down to sip at the dew gathering on the end of a Subalpine Fir branch.
An acrobatic Chipmunk. Photo by Micah K.
And let's not forget the wildflowers.
Heather and Scarlet Paintbrush. Photo by Micah K.
Oh my gosh the wildflowers.....
Beargrass in bloom, individual plants only bloom every seven years! Photo by Micah K.
Things are coming to life here at Mount Rainier, and I can't wait to see what else is right around the corner.
Today I had the pleasure of leading two reporters from the Kitsap Sun newspaper to "Heins Creek Falls." A story by the Kitsap Sun is out to precede my lecture on Thursday.
The day started out almost perfect: overcast skies with almost no wind and a comfortable temperature. I had high hopes as I went through my classes of the day at OC. Unfortunately, Washington had other plans. As soon as I stepped foot outside the building of my last class the sky opened up, and continued raining for the majority of the day. At 2pm I was scheduled to meet up with the reporting team; they arrived right on schedule.
Not wasting any time, we trudged up to the railroad tracks and started toward our destination. We passed by Kitsap Creek, and peered up at "White Train Falls" through the trees; the water was tinted a slight tan color and roared through the canyon. With that much water I doubted I would ever be able to make it up to the fall the way I did before.
"Heins Creek Falls" at high water/flood stage
Finally, after what seemed like a long while of trudging through the ceaseless rainfall, we rounded the bend and the roar of a swollen Heins Creek came to meet us. Scrambling up the sopping almost unrecognizable path to the main tier, my excitement grew exponentially as more and more of the falls came into view; it was absolutely torrential.
Heins Creek was probably two feet higher than normal water level in some places. The main 20 foot tier, which normally is a graceful segmented sliding cascade, was a careening mass of foaming whitewater crashing down the basalt face. In some places, the water hit jutting outcrops of basalt with enough force to create small but powerful rooster tails. When the creek encountered the massive logjam, instead of draining through it, the astounding amount of water was forcing the creek to flow over the logs, plunging down into the large alcove. The final 10 foot cascading section was still recognizable, but a lot more violent as well.
As well as being extremely excited myself, I was pleased to look over and see the reporters with smiles etched on their faces. One remarked "I never knew something like this even existed in Kitsap, this is amazing." Watching waterfalls alone is one thing, but seeing people's reactions to their first sight of them sometimes is even better.
I'll be honest, as a geology student, I'm probably one of the worst places in Washington State to be. With two mountain ranges, A basalt plateau, batholiths, and volcanoes, it's hard to escape significant geological forces in the Evergreen State. However, I seem to have done it, as my stomping grounds lie on the Kitsap Peninsula, a relatively flat strip of land covered in timber and Glacial Till sandwiched between two fjords. Near the beginning of the Holecene Epoch (10,000 years ago roughly) Kitsap Peninsula and the entire puget lowlands were covered with up to 3,000 feet of ice, a large lobe from the ice sheet that smothered what is now Canada. Looking at the peninsula from the air, the evidence from the ice sheet is still clear, with numerous Karns and glacial formations dotting it.
The Middle of Kitsap Peninsula with numerous Karns.
Green Mountain is the lump directly to the West of Bremerton.
However there is one prominent area where it seems the ice did not grind it completely down to dust. Smack dab in the middle of the Peninsula lies the highlands of Green and Gold Mountains. This is probably the most wild it's gonna get on the peninsula. Old Growth Forests with walls of Wild Rhododendrons, Large ponds backed up behind huge dams from wild Beavers. And the occasional Rocky outcrop where if one scrambles high enough, they can see the skyline of Seattle to the East, and the wall of the Olympics to the West.
Green and gold Mountains from a Hilltop overlooking Silverdale.
For those in the Kitsap County not feeling up for the multiple hour drives to the Cascades or Olympics, the Green Mountain State Forest offers a charming alternative. A rare chance to experience wilderness less than an hour away from the hustle and bustle of the 75,000 person Bremerton area. Several trails of varying lengths and steepness wind up through the forests to the rocky Summit of Green Mountain, and the entire area is laced with old logging roads and boot paths that lead to mostly unexplored ravines, ponds, and hilltops. For a Geology student with a tight budget, it's a blessing to have right in my backyard.
