Cascajun

I spent the weekend camping with some friends at Moran State Park, located on Orcas Island. Mount Constitution (2,409 ft.) is located in the park and is the highest point in the San Juan Islands. This is the view from the top, where a stone observation tower built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1936 stands. The park also features more than 30 miles of trails, five lakes and several waterfalls, an old growth forest and a lodge pole pine forest.

We went on a couple of hikes, shared some fabulous food (chili, pork ribs, chocolate chip pancakes, smores), and relaxed around the campfire. The weather turned out great. Overall, it was a great weekend on the San Juan Islands.

I attended the CAM-AM Black Mountain Fly-In at Silver Lake this past weekend. The Black Mountain Fly-In is an annual regional event for Canadian and American hang glider and para glider pilots. Situated on the southern edge of the Fraiser River floodplain, Black Mountain is a 4,990 foot mountain located on the US/Canadian border in Whatcom County. It offers excellent views south to Mount Baker, north to the Canadian Coast Range, and west to Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands. Pilots have a challenging cliff launch, reliable thermals rising from Silver Lake, and nealy 1-mile of elevation from the launch down to the landing zone near the group camp site at Silver Lake.

I was lured out to the event by vague suggestions that I could hook up with an experienced pilot for a tandem flight. I suspect that’s a common ploy used to recruit shuttle drivers. I drove up to the launch twice, but wasn’t able to arrange a tandem flight. Maybe I’ll have better luck next time. I was able to see some execpional flying. One of the hang glider pilots cruised out over the landing zone with very little loss of altitude. He then expended all his elevation doing acrobatics - three giant 360-degree loops. Yes, he was upside down at the top and on one iteration he did a barrel roll to right himself. I was stunned.

I spent a few nights at Clark Island State Park two weeks ago. The island is located in north Puget Sound, west of Lummi Island and east of Orcas Island. A popular destination among sailboaters and paddlers of the Cascadia Marine Trail System, the entire island is a Washington State Park and accessible only by boat.

Click the map link on the left to view detailed metrics for the trip including time, distance, and speed.

I left Fairhaven Boatworks around 10:30 in the morning on Thursday, 5/31. The conditions were not that favorable, with winds from the south-southeast at 9 mph against a strong ebb tide. I decided to give it a try, despite the conditions and warnings from a discouraged boater at the dock who said he couldn’t get past bouy #2 in his power boat.

I soon realized the difference between a 4-day load and 2-day load in terms of weight and how it affects my boat’s performance. I didn’t have the bouancy and freeboard to take the 2 to 3 foot chop I began to encounter. Water was slopping in faster than my self-bailing valve could remove it. I decided it wasn’t going to happen when the water level in my boat was touching the bottom of my sliding seat rig’s I-beam. I turned toward shore, got to a little clamer water, and bailed my boat free and took a southernly course towards Chuckanut Bay.

Nearing the north end of Chuckanut Bay, I again tried heading west across Bellingham Bay. The results were no better than my first attempt. I soon turned back to the south, tucked into a cove at the north end of Chuckanut Bay, and again bailed the water from my boat. It was apparent that I would have to wait for the early afternoon slack to cross the bay. So, I headed over to Chuckanut Island (Dot Island?) and spent an hour or so there for lunch.

Sure enough as the tide slacked the chop settled down a bit and I was off on a beeline for the southern shore of Eliza Island. As I approached Eliza I could tell the flood tide was beginning and could see the rips and eddies forming up as the incomming tide pushed around the island. I passed between Eliza’s south shore and the large rocks there and spotted a sea lion there basking in the sun. What an enormous beast! I was able to clearly see it’s sillouette even after I was a half mile away.

After rounding the southern tip of Lummi Island I got a visual on the west end of Lummi Rocks to my north and fixed a course for them. I soon noted that I was rowing in some ‘confused water’ as it seemed to be going in a variety of directions. Looking further out, I could see there was a better flood current and adjusted my course to bring me to it. Sure enough, as I moved out away from the Lummi shoreline the current became stronger and my speed increased. The winds were calm and I was soaking up the scenery, basking in the sun, and really enjoying a beautiful afternoon on the water. I couldn’t have asked for better conditions to cross the wide open and busy shipping lane in Rosario Strait. I got a visual on Clark Island, adjusted my course, and continued on.

Soon I was near the turning bouy that’s near the center of the intersecting shipping lanes between Orcas, Lummi, and Sinclair Islands. I was impressed with how much the bouy was leaning to the north and could hear the sound of water rushing past it even though I cruised by a good 500 yards to the east. I checked my speed on my GPS and was impressed to see I was going over 7 mph! Wow, what fun I had as I got into a smooth cadence. Fun is good, but it nearly distracted me into making a big mistake. I glanced around to check my position and realized I had quickly covered much more north distance but had not gone far enough west. I was running the risk of overshooting Clark Island, my destination, and rowing north out into the Strait of Georgia where I could see no land all the way to the horizon….

My mood suddenly changed as I became concerned about my situation. I even started feeling foolish. What if I don’t have the energy to pull myself, cross-current, the mile west I stll must make? I had already covered 18 miles in an single day and didn’t know how much I had left. I mustered the energy, changed course to due west and gave it all I had.

I was pretty proud of myself when I reached the calm waters between Clark and Barnes. After a short rest selected a campsite and settled in for a quiet evening. The late afternoon and evening views of Mount Baker to the east are spectacular. I took this photo of a south bound oil tanker and it’s tugboat escorts as they passed between Clark and Lummi Islands.

I made a return trip to Lummi Island this weekend. It was to be the first stop on a two night trip, with the planned second stop at DNR’s Pelican Beach campground on Cypress Island. Unfortunately, strong winds from the south on Saturday morning prevented me from making the hop from Lummi Island to Cypress.

Friday evening Ben, a fellow rower, and I launched from Fairhaven. We had a nice 1.75 hour crossing of Bellingham Bay with both mild winds from the south and a flood tide working against us. After beaching our boats at the DNR campground, Ben had a quick snack and beer then rigged his navigation and safety light for the sunset row back to Fairhaven. He was only out for a fitness row - 3 hours, 8+ miles.

I was surprised to find the campground completely unoccupied on the Friday evening of what is to be a four day 4th of July holiday weekend for most. This visit I beached in the “middle” cove of the three cove campground. The northern most and middle cove are separated by a large rock (i.e. townhouse sized) that itself is separated from the mainland by a gravel beach. This large rock has a campsite on it and is accessible on via a log staircase. I chose pitch camp on the rock.

Saturday morning I was roused by the tent fly flapping to a 12 to 15 mph steady wind with occasional gusts near 20 mph. The sky was mostly clear and visibility was good, but the wind and subsequent chop made for unfavorable conditions. The 6+ mile journey to Cypress would take me across two busy shipping lanes and the convergence currents where Rosario Strait meets the Strait of Georgia. As I’ve not yet made this crossing, I was hesitant to undertake it in the less than favorable conditions. Therefore, I elected to spend the morning around camp reading, glassing, exploring forest on the nearby mountain slope, and napping. Late in the afternoon I packed up and rode the flood tide back to Fairhaven. It wasn’t the trip I planned, but turned out very well.

PS - There was a period on Saturday as I crossed Bellingham Bay during which I could see Mt. Ranier, the Olympic Range, the Coast Range in BC, the North Cascades and Mt. Baker at the same time. A complete 360-degree panorama of spectacular scenery.

I took my dogs for a hike on Blanchard Mountain yesterday. The view from Oyster Dome rock is one the most spectacular in the area. From there, perched atop a 200 foot precipice, you have a panorama that includes the snow capped mountains on the Olympic Peninsula to the south, Samish Bay and the San Juan Islands, Vancouver Island, and the Coast Range of British Columbia to the north. Owned by the State of Washington and managed by the DNR, Blanchard Mountain is unique as it is the only place where the Cascade Mountains reach Puget Sound. It’s a popular destination for local hikers, mountain bikers, hang gliders, para gliders, and horseback riders. The weather was fabulous, though it was the warmest day of the year to date at 83 degrees F. It was easy to lay on a rock in the shade at the top and watch a juvenile bald eagle soar on the wind currents.

I went camping out on Lummi Island over the Memorial Day weekend. Saturday morning I loaded up the boat and rowed out of Fairhaven Boatworks, destined for the DNR campground on the southeast shore of the island. The campsite is part of the Cascadia Marine Trail, an inland sea trail suitable for day or multi-day trips. It’s about 7-miles west-southwest of Fairhaven and sports 5 campsites complete with tent pads, picnic tables, fire rings, and pit toilets. No reservations. First come, first served.

This would be my first camping trip on Puget Sound and a test of my planning assumptions, packing plan, and gear selection. I made what some would consider contradictory selections. For example, light weight backpacker’s tent, stove, cookware, sleeping bag, and food. But, also a bundle of firewood, 5-gallons of water, and ten 12-oz beers in a small ice chest. I don’t see the contradictions, but some insist they exist. I did carry a selection of safety gear: PFD, hand held VHF radio, rescue strobe, flare gun, first aid kit, duct tape, 5200 Marine Adhesive Sealant, and a lot of rope. Yes, I know…I need a whistle and/or horn, a GPS and/or compass and probably more. Suggestions for safety gear and emergency equipment are welcome in the comments.

I pulled away from the dock around 0930. It was showery, temperatures in the upper 40’s F, and winds from the south at about 8 mph - against a fairly strong ebb tide. Dale suggested I might try hugging the shore south toward Larabee State Park before turning west to cross Bellingham Bay. Thus, the south wind might be less opposing and I could take the wind waves at a more favorable angle. (Dale - Thanks for the send off and photo!) However, as I rounded the dry docks and headed out towards Buoy #2, I decided to attempt a direct crossing as the conditions didn’t appear all that bad.

I made the crossing in about 2 hours. I had a slight scare as I was approaching Buoy #2. The San Juan Island Commuter roared out of the Bellingham Ferry Terminal bound for Friday Harbor. The typical route takes the boat precisely down my intended route and present position. I really have no feel for how visible my boat is in the choppy conditions and weather we had that morning. My boat is bright red, but… I decided to quickly turn toward shore and move as far away from his route as possible. I never could tell if the pilot saw me or not, I was well clear of his path and the maneuver was probably unnecessary.

Otherwise, it was an uneventful crossing. I stopped for one break, in lee side of Eliza Island, about three quarters of the way to my destination. I was happy to have installed a venturi drain because for a while it was raining pretty steady and I was also taking on a lot of wind blown splash. I just popped the drain down and kept forward progress and the water stayed mostly drained.

I arrived around 1130, which coincided with the -1+ low tide. Consequently, there was a lot of barnacle covered cobble exposed at the beach. I cringed as the small waves rolled in and grated the bottom of my boat on the ragged cobble edges. Quickly I unloaded gear and staged it well up the beach. On each return to the boat I carried back a large piece of driftwood. I took the driftwood logs and rolled the boat up onto them and slowly worked it out of the water and up onto the beach. Eventually I worked the boat above the cobble and over the less abrasive, well rounded gravels found higher on the beach. Later, at high tide, I lifted my boat up onto some very large logs stranded above the mean high tide line.

I was the first arrival for the weekend and had a choice of spots. After walking the entire campground I selected the southern most site. I think it’s the best, offering two comfy spots to perch above the water and enjoy vast scenic vistas. I set up camp and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon around the campground. Weather conditions improved as the day progressed with excellent boating conditions in the late afternoon. The only other campers for the weekend arrived later on Saturday. Three of the five sites were occupied by a total of 4 campers.

Sunday morning I got up and prepared for my planned circumnavigation of the island. In a nutshell, I planned a counter-clockwise route with the ebb against me on the east side northbound journey through Hale Passage. Based on predicted tides and currents, I defined two critical points of passage. I estimated that I needed to pass Gooseberry Point near the north end of Lummi Island by 0830 and Carter Point at the southern tip by 1330. I left the campground around 0630 with a largely empty boat. I carried only a hydration pack with food and water, a pelican case with my cell phone and digital camera, and my bag with safety gear.

I made very good progress and rounded the north end of Lummi Island before 0900. However, as I turned south for the leg along Lummi’s western shore, I realized I had underestimated the effort it would take to fight the wind from the south, despite the strong ebb currents in my favor. As I rounded Village Point and headed across Legoe Bay, the winds got stronger and whipped up a particularly nasty chop. I became concerned about my progress and the amount of energy I was expending. As I considered the options I decide proceeding as planned really was the best option of all.

I was able to take note of the scenery, despite the annoying wind and worries about fatigue. There are several large beaches on the Lummi’s northwest shores. However, I believe most are private. Further south the development ends and the western shore of the island is undeveloped. Here the island rises steeply to it’s ~1,500 peak. I saw many eagles, including a large group feasting on a beached seal carcass. Lummi Rocks lie several hundred yards offshore. Under more favorable weather conditions I might have spent some time drifting in the area, however, every time I relaxed on the oars I quickly lost precious progress in the 8 to 10 mph south winds. I took two short 10-minute breaks along this western shore. I took one of those breaks along a protected stretch south of Lummi Rocks. I stood on the shore, perched on a boulder beneath the islands steep slopes - smack in the middle of a huge avalanche chute - not unlike many I’ve seen in Colorado. The great difference being that this chute was not created by annual snowfall. It was created by rock slides and judging by the complete lack of vegetation I surmised that it was quite active…geologically speaking.

I rounded Carter Point around 1230 and arrived back at the campsite about 1300. A complete circumnavigation of Lummi Island in ~6.5 hours. I estimate the distance was roughly 21 nautical miles.

I was completely exhausted and didn’t have the patience to work the boat up the beach on another improvised driftwood boat ramp. I quickly tossed the small amount of gear out onto the beach took the oars and rigging from the boat. Then I lifted the boat and stowed it above the high tide line.

Back at the tent I pulled a 600 mg ibuprofen from my first aid kit and a beer from the ice chest. After administering my first aid I retired to my tent for a nap. I emerged two hours later very stiff! I had another relaxing afternoon around camp and polished the evening off with a small campfire and friendly conversation with the neighbors.

On Monday morning I broke camp and returned to Fairhaven. The weather was very nice, a little warm even. It was a wonderful trip.

This blog, Cascajun, is authored by Randy Arabie.

I’m an eclectic medley of red state stereotypes simmered in blue state memes. I grew up in the backwoods of rural southwest Louisiana and landed in NW Washington after a stint in Denver, Colorado.

Bellingham is a great place for an outdoors enthusiast like myself. Some of my favorite activities include: cycling, hiking, rowing, and camping. I have a 16-foot open water rowing shell that I use for multi-day boating trips to the San Juan Islands. Galbraith mountain and all its single track are at my doorstep. North Cascades National Park and the Mount Baker Wilderness comprise half of Whatcom County.

I’ve got an adequate stable of bikes consisting of 2 handcrafted steel framed road bikes and a single-speed Cannondale F600 mountain bike. Perhaps I’ll ride a full suspension mountain bike someday…but only if it’s a single-speed!

Interested in knowing about my career? Have a look at my resume.