Finding the Little River

There is a trail that leads into Olympic National Park called the Little River.  The trail head is small and easy to miss if you are moving too fast along the roadway.  A small wooden sign and a slight cut of the trees, marks the opening into the forest.  If you have drifted too far or have become distracted for too long, step into the wilderness of the Olympic Peninsula to find yourself again.  Floating and drifting aimlessly across the liquid plane of the planet, bring yourself to solid ground by following these simple and easy directions to the Little River Trail:

Forty eight degrees arcs across the north Pacific and will pull you into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. When the sea is angry, take shelter in the small harbor of Port Angeles.  The curve of the rocky spit will reach for you and take you in amongst the turnstones. If the darkness hides your way, move slow and hold fast to the lights of the city shore. Drop anchor alongside the tankers and cargo ships with their towers high above the sight line of the horizon.  The thunder of their chains dropping will make you feel irrelevant and small.  Listen for the water falling as the ships empty the ballast holds; salty sea water back to the sea. Glaucous-winged gulls, posted and guarding, will scream and laugh at you as you try to find your way. Look west, the huffing and puffing pulp mill whistles and blows with darkened steam that reveals the course of wind that carried and keeps you here.  

Logs are everywhere; floating in the harbor, stacked on the land.  Loaded trucks with pup trailers in tow, haul logs down the mountain, rounding the stacks to pile the logs high.  The smell of cedar and pine drifts on the wind as the stripped bark and shredded coats of the trees gives way to the inner core of strength.  Bulker and reefer ships float in the harbor waiting for the weight of the load that will sink them down to the waterline, giving force against the waves.  The water dogs gather on the mass of sorted logs floating in the bay.  They snort and bark at the day and through the night, belching and groaning to be heard.  At the tip of the hook of land that makes the rocky spit, sits the ready bright boats and helicopter of the Coast Guard and the neighboring house of ship pilots waiting for their next run of maneuvering freighters through Puget Sound.  Keep an eye alert and you might catch a glimpse of the hard steel grey predators belonging to the navy.  Find your way to the marina waterfront of fishing and pleasure boats and the north edge of the Olympic Peninsula.  This is the port of Port Angeles, where tall corrugated steel buildings house the boats and their builders who work to restore what the sea has taken and repair what has broken for those that have faltered.

Board your dingy, paddle ashore and take to the land following the route of the Black Diamond. The wet dark pavement will take you away from the edge of the cityscape and through a small band of rural land where you will find farms and small wineries.  At the edge of this countryside, the vast Olympic wilderness of nearly two and a half million acres begins and so too begins the Little River trail. Step onto this mountain path and find yourself in a thick rainforest with big trees and big ferns. The understory is a blanket of bright spongy moss and forest debris.  Don’t expect to cover much distance with your boots on the ground, for around every bend is another moment that slows your stride with another big breath of wonderment.

Small wrens will alert the forest of your arrival. Brown, plain and very small, the decisive chirp of the Pacific Wren is loud and directs all to hear as it darts and hides beneath the fallen trees and broken branches on the forest floor.  The regeneration and perseverance of life never pauses; no sooner does a branch or tree fall, when a new life starts to grow on what has fallen.  The color green is everywhere, with infinite hues you never knew.  The trail follows the Little River with numerous waterfalls and cascades that bubble and roil out loud as you find your way through the misty world of rain and forest.  There is a lot of distance that can be traveled on this trail.  The beginning of the trail is an easy slope that meanders alongside the river, but the trail will begin to climb and climb to the heights of the clouds that made the forest rain.   If you choose to, you can continue up the trail for eight miles and rise four thousand feet through the trees to find yourself atop Hurricane Ridge soaring high above the reflecting sea below.  Your discovery and your treasure will be the time that was spent on this small patch of earth that gave you those lasting thoughts of love and beauty that surrounded and held you for those short moments. 

My Washington bird list has reached 85 with the additional of these species: Brewer’s Blackbird, Cooper’s Hawk, Long-tailed Duck, Hooded Merganser, Osprey, Pigeon Guillemot, Red-necked Grebe, Black Oyster-catcher, Common Golden-eye and Ruddy Turnstone