Belligerent Naturists

I'm sure I just picked up a whole slew of new readers with that post title!

Last week, for the second time in my professional career, I ended up sampling at a nude beach. Perhaps my previous field work was in the winter, when the naturists are more scarce but last week, with 85 degree weather in the area, the population was high...not a lot of tan lines going around. I instantly had flash-backs to my last nude beach sampling (the fish fauna, not the human fauna), when my rather-senior manager decided to make a field visit 6 mos. into the project, not knowing he had chosen a nude beach as the sampling site. I, being the most junior member and the only one still under 30 and therefore a kid, was pulled aside and told that if I didn't feel comfortable with the field site, we could change or I could refrain from participating there. I let out an internal chuckle...it was obviously he who was uncomfortable! Perhaps it was the man sitting on the sand with legs akimbo just over my shoulder.

Anyway, so here we were back at it. Different project, different nude beach, still mostly old men (what gives?). Thankfully, the one man who decided to inquire about our activities and why we might have been dressed in chest-waders while everyone else was wandering around in the buff had donned a towel before he approached--it just would have been awkward otherwise. In truth, we were probably the more oddly clad bunch (it being hot, sunny, summer and all).

Now, a week later, we get word of a belligerent nudist at our very field site on the very day we were there! I don't know how we missed it! But as one of my compadres pointed out, "The only thing worse than a creepy naked guy is an angry creepy naked guy." Amen, sister. Looks like we'll have to add belligerent naturists to our list of field hazards (oh, won't the legal department have a field day with that one...)!

Royal Basin

A couple of Februaries ago I was doing my annual discount wall calendar shopping at Swain's and ended up with a nice little ditty picturing various scenes from the Olympic Peninsula for about $4. When it came time to flip to March, the featured scene was from Royal Basin. I thought, "I have got to get up there and check that out." And thus, a Life List item was born.



So, last week, with precious little time on this Peninsula remaining, I gathered my gear and convinced a friend to make the trek from Seattle for the overnighter. At 11pm on Thursday I was still locating all of my gear, but by 7:45 the next morning we were underway.

With the cold spring and late onset of summer, rumor had it that the snow had only been melted from the Upper Basin for a few weeks. The flowers just seemed to be getting their game on too. We wound through lots of forest, noting several plants from the "Oddballs" section of the Northwest Plants book. Severe winter storms in December 2007 created some amazing slides and debris fields along the trail, where a few rogue plants were trying to lay down roots in the disturbed sediment. The walk was nice and gradual for the first 5-6 miles, with the real huffing and puffing occurring in the last stretch--luckily this also happened to be the most visually rewarding!

We made it to Royal Lake and had our pick of campsites. While the bogs around the lake were full of flowers of all colors, the blueberries were sadly weeks from being ripe...bummer. As we set up camp, some low clouds settled into the basin and we opted to lay low and rest our aching muscles instead of heading to the Upper Basin.


The next morning dawned with bright blue sky, and some REALLY cold air!
After packing up camp, we headed uphill to Upper Royal Basin. This is where the real rewards began. The views were stunning, once we slogged up a really steep, but short, section of trail that reminded us what a great idea it was to leave our full packs in the campsite. With each step the views of the basin kept getting better--this was some serious payoff!

The surrounding peaks were stunning with their snow-splashed flanks and dark peaks kissing the bright blue sky. The view back down the valley was of a beautiful alpine meadow complete with many meandering and wandering creeks carrying ice cold water down to Royal Creek.

I Like Turtles

While I've been busy exploring alpine peaks, the Salty Hubby has been getting his last little fill of warm, salty water. This is a guy who didn't even really swim before living Aloha and now he's signing up for competitive swimming events...okay, he is the only swimmer in the Mask and Snorkel Division, but at least he's playing.

In his off hours, he captured some great honu pictures! I sure can't wait to get the good camera back! But for now, I'll be content with pictures of peacefully swimming marine critters.

For a taste of ridiculous humor and the source for the title of this post, click here.

Sweet, Sweet Phlox

I turned the Saline Canine into the Alpine Canine for the day. She and her buddy and I made our way up Mt. Townsend, one of the best wildflower hikes in the Olympics (and one that also allows 4-leggeds, for those seeking such options). With the late onset of summer, almost everything was just hitting its peak, so our timing was perfect. Even the native Pacific rhododendron, Rhododendron macrophyllum, was still in full bloom.



I did this climb a few years ago from the other direction and remembered it being beautiful (and a lot shorter), with views of the still-snowy bigger Olympic peaks and Puget Sound. A late start had me wondering if we'd even make it out of the rhododendron forest into alpine flower territory, but we did. I knew we were getting close to open alpine scree when I smelled the sweet and fragrant phlox that I knew to be scattered around the mountain.

One of my first real flower finds was a chocolate lily, Fritillaria lanceolata, one of my favorite alpine flowers. I saw only one plant, but I was able to snap a few shots of it...albeit using the cantankerous macro function on the old clunker--can't wait to get the Canon back!


While not as rare, the columbine were gorgeous, their reds and yellows especially bright in the late afternoon light against the green backdrop of the forested lower elevations.


While I didn't linger long looking for every last species, I did see more than a handful of flowers in different hues and was able to breathe some clean, phlox-scented, alpine air while I was at it. And at least one of us kept the Douglas squirrels on their toes.

Bounty of the Sea

In a true celebration of Independence, this weekend was the annual Bounty of the Sea seafood harvesting and beer drinking extravaganza. This event involves various salty types setting out to gather, trap, and dig some of Puget Sound's salty bounty, meanwhile engaging in discussions on the vagaries of bivalve anatomy and why geoduck pate may not really be possible (because geoducks just don't have livers, ya know?). Some savage allergies took me out of the running for the early morning ferries over to Whidbey Island, so I missed out on extreme shellfish harvesting, but a banner number of geoduckers turned in an impressive haul. I also failed to bring a camera, so I have to resort to photos of Bounties past to explain what all is involved here.

With the low tides smack dab in the middle of the day, conditions are right for gathering up all sorts of shellfish...okay there were those Vibrio warnings going about, but I guess you have to live life on the edge a bit, which is why I wasted no time in enjoying the geoduck sashimi prepared by the resident Japanese guy! He did a bang up job and I suffered no ill effects, well, at least yet. For those not in the know, the geoduck, Panopea abrupta, is a long-lived bivalve that seems to have outgrown its shell and has a rather large, uh, siphon.

They are found deep in the sediment, so the harvesting can be a considerable challenge, necessitating diving head first into a giant hole that took forever to dig. The effort of this year's harvesters was clear from all the sandy heads and ears walking around. Way to go team!

Though the Bounty was timed to correspond with the opening of crab season, the haul was, well, non-existent. Too bad. I did add in a few spot prawns, Pandalus platycaros, from my Sequim source, so that was a nice addition to the bivalve smorgasbord. Also, one adventurous soul harvested some moon sails, Polinices lewisii, and turned them into a moon snail salad of sorts. My review: moon snail makes squid look tender; this was the most rubbery thing I've ever eaten. "A" for effort on the trial species and preparation though--gotta applaud adventurous dining. Maybe next year we can get a Parastichopus!

The Worms Crawl In

Grass pollen allergies are killing me. So, it was with a keen eye that I read Elizabeth Svoboda's article in the New York Times about hookworms and allergies, The Worms Crawl In. I'm not sure if I'm ready to sign myself up, especially for any more than 10 (the magic number of vile beasties that results in health and not harm), but the satisfaction of the worm-infested allergy-suffering guinea pigs has made me think about how bad a few parasites would be relative to the itchy eyes, running nose, and overall misery induced by a few over-zealous grasses.

I think I'll hold out for those "molecular mechanisms" the doctor refers to, but I am intrigued about the possibility of a few friends to help me breathe easier!