Blue Lake Regional Park

July 12, 2025

I start the day with ambitious plans, ones born from the need to find a place to park the car for the day. After the difficulty getting in and out of the car when parked in Elizabeth's fiendishly cramped parking space, it will take a lot to convince me to go back. I'd rather leave it on the street and deal with the meter issues.

Rather than moving it to a new spot throughout the day thoughI decide to take a bike ride up on Skyline today, parking the car somewhere around Chapman School outside the metered zone and bike from there. I have roughly a 40 mile loop in mind that climbs Cornell and Thompson up to Skyline, folllows the ridge east to Dogie Mountain, and then drops to the river from there and returns home along the river. It will be a challenge, but I feel ready for that.

It's an admirable goal, but it doesn't happen. Instead I drive over to Ovation for breakfast, hang out there too long, and by the time I return home it's late enough on a hot day that the ride has lost its appeal. Better off holding this one for cooler conditions.

Instead, I come up with the still quite ambitious idea of driving out to Broughton Beach on the Columbia and biking east along the river up toward Chanticleer Point, or at least as far as I can get before I have to return home in time for our dinner plans.

That doesn't happen either because I miss my chance to turn-off at Broughten Beach because of oncoming traffic issues. The next spot where I could turn back is far enough east that I decide to pull off at Blue Lake Regional Park; but I overshoot that one too and finally come to a stop at Chinook Landing.

I pay my $5 parking fee, find a spot that will hopefully see some shade by the time I return, and after stopping by the restrooms I'm soon biking east and out of the park, still with Chanticleer Point in mind, or at least as far as I get before it's time to turn back in time for dinner.

That doesn't happen either. I barely make it outside of the parking lot when I come to the narrow drainage ditch that almost make an island out of this park and the strip of shoreline east all the way to Troutdale. I stop there to look up and down the ditch for bird life, find some that intrigues me, and decide I should backtrack a mile to Blue Lake and check out the scene there before heading east. There's time.

But there's not time for that either, because when I get to Blue Lake I keep getting sucked in further, following the unpaved, dirt wetland trail that eventually takes me aon a loop all the way around Blue Lake. There's still aren't many birds out, but those which are put on a fine show, flapping their wings and repeatedly dipping into the water and then energetically flapping their wings and preening. I'm not sure but this all looks like a cooling exercise, and maybe they're even trying to moisten their backs with their preening.

It's a pleasant time to be here, partly because it's so uncharacteristically quiet. Swimming is banned, which I assume is because of the posted high fire warning signs. There are only a few others out, mostly just sitting and staring at the scene or slowly sappwalking the trails.

It's not completely silent though. There's the occasional bird sound and the deep rumble of a bullfrog that I look for but fail to locate; but that's about it. Very nice.

So the net result is that today turns into a hike with wheels, and it's getting close to two and time to return to the car by the time I near the exit to the park. There's still time for me to add a few miles by circling the second lake here., Fairview Lake, but that plan drops off when a bicyclist passes by and comments on how much sun I've apparently seen judging by the tan on my legs. Ice-breaker! For the next fifteen minutes Tom and I stand next to each other astride our bikes, chatting away across a broad pallette of topics. His arrhythmias, my ablation surgery; blood thinners; travel overseas, something he aspires to but never does; the TA Lifestyle and plans for the future; his dream of biking the length of Japan someday. We part as friends, with the agreement that we'll watch out for each other, here or maybe in Italy someday.

So, bye-bye goes the idea of looping Fairview Lake - or anything else but heading back to the car, because I kill the remainder of my time budget when I come to a patch of lavender that's a bumblebee magnet and spend about ten minutes trying to get a decent shot of one.

Leaving Chinook Landing, I died the short connecting footpath that follows the top of the berm above a seasonal creek.

It's got just one bird visible in it today that I can see, this double-crested flapper apparently trying to keep it cool by alternately submerging his tail and wings and then flapping them around.

Looking back west toward the confluence with the river, I'm surprised at how much green still remains.

And in this direction the only avian life I see is a pair of herons far out at the bend.

Teasel! I didn't know this free here. The only place I remember seeing it before is in eastern England, walking south toward the sea from the Boston Stump.

In Blue Lake Park now, I stop to admire this striking tree ahead, which at first take I think might be an xxx.

It's clearly not that though, as I get close enough for a good look.

No birds, but the lily pads catch my attention.

Tom, a man who surprises me by saying that it's his dream to bike the length of Japan starting from a friend's home in Hokkaido.

Here's a spot that slows me down because it's so. Narrow and precarious. I coast along with one foot off the pedal and touching base along the ground, and get off and walk in spots.

The St. John's wort is in bloom now and encroaches on the path, narrowing it enough in spots that I get off and walk. Apparently it is typically in bloom during solstice, which is the basis for its name. June 24 is Saint John's Day, an observance I'd never heard of before but was observed as the date of summer solstice since Roman times.

The lavender is in full bloom now, I'll have to make it up to Helvetia's lavender garden before the peak passes.

I feel a little sheepish when I return home with my ride report - 7 miles in three hours, about the distance I imagined about matches Rachael's walk. But no, Rachael never really left the house. For one thing, her day was chopped up by a zoom visit with her new primary care provider, a woman she's very enthusiastic about. She never goes out for a walk though because it's too hot and she's still resting her injured big toe.

Shortly after four Rachael leaves to walk over to Justa Pasta, where we have a dinner date with Elizabeth coming up soon. I leave a few minutes later on the bike, and soon we're sitting down at an outside table in the shade, enjoying drinks and waiting for Elizabeth to arrive.

She arrives, a congenial young woman takes our orders, but cobbles it somehow - she brings me the wrong salad, and she doesn't bring Elizabeths's at all. It's not long after that when we look at each other, decide it's really too windy for company, and move indoors. A fine conversation ensues, Rachael and Elizabeth walk back home together while I bike, and that's a wrap.

It's a match! It's remarkable how often Rachael with her small wardrobe is dressed just right for the occasion.

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Today's song surprised me. I remember it from my youth and thought it was from my parents' generation if not older than that even. It's much newer though, from the 1952 film Lili - an Oscar winner for best original film score. Set in France, the film sounds like just my type. I'll have to add it to the watch list.

And I can't remember for sure, but I think we listened to music and the radio all the time at home, on a wooden Motorola with a turntable. It's a guess, but this one is the right vintage and looks familiar:

Today's ride: 9 miles (14 km)
Total: 113 miles (182 km)

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