Force Lake

July 27, 2025

It's still the weekend, and none of the local holes open until 7. I consider hanging around until then but decide instead to grab a quick bite at home and then start biking north at six with the plan to bike the Columbia Slough/Kelley Point loop first and grab breakfast at the Red-e Cafe on my way home. I'm a little concerned about how it will be biking across the Broadway Bridge this early in the morning and anticipate needing to walk the bike uphill into the glare again, but it's really OK this morning. I think it's because the sun has moved enough to the south over the past few weeks that it's not straight on in my face any more.

This makes me think of mom. Before they moved into assisted living they enjoyed many years in their dream home, an older brick home up on Magnolia Bluff. The upper floor had a westward-facingdeck spanning the width of the house, giving them marvelous views across Elliot Bay to the Olympics, with a sight line extending from Mount Rainier in the south and I think up to Mount Baker in the north.

This morning makes me think of that and mom though because she disliked Seattle's wet winters and eagerly awaited the return of the sun each spring. She knew the spot on the horizon where it was at its furthest south at winter solstice and would track its advance to help her get through the dreary months still ahead.

Really, Scooter. Why has it taken you so long to start getting out the door early again?

The upriver view. Some mornings I have to wait for a gap in the traffic for this shot, but the bridge is closed for maintenance today.

I've had the Canon strapped over my shoulder ever since leaving home, thinking of that morning when I saw a flicker standing on the sidewalk just south of Harder Day Coffee, but there's nothing to be seen beyond the crows and pigeons until I come to the Slough. And once I've arrived there are no birds out at all, save for three photogenically posed herons waiting for the day to begin. It's still too early, and none of the cold-blooded breakfast treats have started stirring yet.

I leave the slough with my bird count still holding at three and take the spur north to Vsnport and Force Lake. From there I plan to continue north to the river, ride the berm west to the railroad bridge, and then double back south to the slough again. I still don't see much on my way to Force Lake, picking up a robin but nine of the other birds I often see through here; and my first reaction at Force Lake is a mild disappointment when I don't see anything swimming on the water but the usual mallards and hybrids.

It's still pretty still on Force Lake this morning.

Domestic mallards have many different looks, some of them quite attractive.

But then I look across the small lake at the white schmear just at the far edge. I zoom in and am elated to have my suspicions confirmed - white pelicans, a flock of about twenty of them joyously feeding in the shallows, repeatedly dipping their huge scoopers into the water and then tilting them skyward to engorge their haul. I love white pelicans, a bird I'm seldom lucky enough to see, maybe even more than I love their brown cousins. They just look so happy to me. Maybe it's the striking eyes, or the half open mouths that looks like they're smiling.

I sit there taking photo after photo of these great birds, coming away with probably fifty shots. In the background just behind them is a row of maybe twenty dowitchers and a few blue-winged teals. And by the time I'm ready to move on the lake is starting to wake up, with the barn swallows making their first appearance.

It's time to move on though, and I'm anxious to get back to the slough to see what else might show up. Like yesterday, I'm already thinking I could be writing up a thirty bird day today. Or so the thinking was until I turn off to skirt the barricade that blocks cars from the eastern entrance to Vanport, the same barricade I skirted going the other direction a half hour earlier.

Like many such spots, this one is just a bit tricky to navigate - it's off the edge of the pavement, it's narrow, there's a bit of a bend to it, and there's a small lip at the edge of the pavement. In the past I've gotten off and walked through here but my bike handling has gotten surer enough that I decide I can manage it.

And I do, almost. The front wheel is up on the pavement when suddenly I'm losing my balance as the bike starts tipping away from me. I'm at a complete standstill with both feet on the ground, but the bike has just enough momentum that it pulls me forward and over it and somehow I end up on the flip side, on my back, lying on top of the bike. My head and upper body are resting on the front wheel, and my left foot up is somehow pinned to something at the other end of the frame.

I just lie there for a minute, taking inventory. I feel fine. I pull around the camera, frightened at first by the fact that the lens cover has popped off, but it's fine too. I disengage my left leg, where my sock has gotten snagged on. bolt on the rear rack. So far, so good. And then I look at my legs, both of which have large open wounds where they apparently scraped against the pedals on my way to the ground. Both are openly bleeding, and one has an alarming flap of skin hanging from it that makes me think of that dig attack back in John Day five years ago.

So what is going on here is something I haven't mentioned before. Prednisone has so many different potential side effects, and one is something called 'thin skin', where surface wounds occur easily. I've had a number of incidents like this over the past several weeks and my lower legs in particular are a mess with little or not so little wounds that take a long time to heal.

In any case, this looks like the end of my ride. I decide to head back home by the most direct route, with plans that I may need to stop for first aid supplies before I get there (and obviously add some to my pannier, which will get done later). As I check to confirm from time to time though it doesn't look like I'm bleeding out so I feel like I can afford time to stop for a few more birds that show up on the way.

And I'm doing well enough that when I come to Harder Day I feel OK stopping in for coffee and a fruit scone, after cleaning myself up with a napkin and water before placing my order.

Another sign of progress: I manage to lock and unlock the bike without doinking my head on the metal box this time.

Thin skin: another reason I'll be glad to see the end of prednisone.

Today's list: Long-billed dowitcher, White pelican, Canada goose, Double-crested cormorant, Cedar waxwing, American robin, American crow, European starling, House finch, Rock pigeon, Mallard, Gadwall, Barn swallow, Great blue heron. Great egret, Common merganser, Eurasian collared dove, Anna's hummingbird, Blue-winged teal (19)

Today's ride: 16 miles (26 km)
Total: 317 miles (510 km)

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