March 20th - Grayback Mountain

Mount Adams from the Grayback Mountain Lookout

The most interesting night of camping I've had

Wow! Just wow. I could not believe how hard the wind was blowing through my campsite over the course of the evening. An early casualty was the rainfly, which came undone on one side of the tent, leaving me kind of exposed to the elements (stars, yay!). Next the stakes left the ground. Now, every time it gusted, my tent kind of folded over me. I had a (potentially warm) car not far from my tent. I just didn't see the need in the end! I was dry, thanks to the tarp, sleeping pads, and weather, I was warm, thanks to the airtight sides of the tent and my sleeping bag. It didn't press in making it hard to breathe. 

I just had to deal with the fact that my tent had become this: 

Somehow, it was not all that unbearable. I just occasionally had a laugh during some of the stronger gusts, but eventually acclimated to it, getting a lot of good sleep by the time morning rolled around.

Andimean. . . I'm usually not coy about getting up at unreasonable hours. I'm not going to say I was in all ways sad that I had to end my night in my tent/windsock. I'd been pretty wiped out and gotten to bed pretty early, so it was still dark when I started my day. 

Coffee. Oatmeal. Call for owls. Nothing. 

I was a little surprised. Part of my rationale for sleeping here, with some wet mixed forest around me, along with some openings, was that I'd likely hear some owls in the night. Northern Saw-whet would have been the most likely? Maybe? Any time you think you've got birds figured out, they can surprise you. It was, at any rate, an owl-less night of camping. 

I packed up my tent in the light of a nearly full moon, laced up my shoes and got started. 

Going up!

The hike begins in a path that is a private road, complete with "user retains the right to forbid access at any time" signage. I like it. It's a kindness to allow people to walk through your property unannounced, but there should be a healthy amount of caution layered in there. Not everyone is just hiking and birdwatching. 

Well, and actually, hold the phones: Grayback Mountain, WA – 05/01/2021 – wanderingyuncks. The leadoff to this article says that "as of March 2022, access to Grayback Mountain has been closed by the private landowners. Please respect their decision." Who knows if it will ever be returned, but it looks like I made it up just in time. 

This little stretch heads North from the camping area, then East (this part being completely undrivable, even with a tank, I'd imagine) before meeting up with Grayback Road. It would have been possible to start the hike at the gated end of Grayback Road, but it would have added miles to the hike (something I would find a way to do anyway, in the end).

I started hearing and seeing new year birds fairly early on the way up. I'd gone to bed thinking I was at 100 species for the year. Probably. Maybe. And Cassin's Finch was 101, then Mountain Chickadee was 102. Then elk brought me back to the reality of 101. 

So. . . I'll try to be as transparent as possible with my birding skills. Always. And here's just a lovely opportunity to poke a little fun. The previous evening, I'd heard a high pitched call, kind of similar to a gull: a high clear, plaintive call. The only thing that came to mind at all was a call I'd heard before from a Northern Goshawk, and it wasn't an awful place to expect one. So I went to bed thinking about this one, and leaning towards the goshawk. 

This is from the "what else could it possibly be?" perspective. And the process-of-elimination plan is a pretty good one, until you end up in a situation where "something you haven't heard before" is the actual answer. 

Elk. Bugling elk. What a cool cool sound they make and thank goodness I got to hear them! There were dozens of them crossing Grayback Road in front of me. Very fun. So where are we now? 101. 102 was a Northern Pygmy-Owl, calling in response to my whistling, and a Pileated Woodpecker made it 103. The trail was wide and easy. The landowners of course have access and there were various places where construction-grade vehicles were parked along the way.

The trail opened up at a few points, and at about half-way up, a Ruffed Grouse (104) drummed from the edge of one of these openings. Higher up, and the trees were gone, a lookout in sight above me. Purple Finch (105), and Sooty Grouse (106) were heard as I was approaching the last stretch, and Mountain Bluebird (107) was my reward for the summit itself.

The fire lookout at the top was locked tight, and a little wind kept it cool. It was neat to look North into reservation land, and West to Mount Adams, which came in and out of clouds. I'd continued to be pretty lucky with rain. 

Going down!

Down is always harder for me, although this particular hike wasn't so steep as to kill my knees. I've come to appreciate trekking poles and their ability to make my arms AND my knees hurt, rather than just my knees. Down was actually tricky navigationally. The way back in from Grayback Road towards my campsite was not a terribly obvious turn. Add to that, a pair of coyotes were pretty close to the trail for about a mile of the trip down. And. . . I know coyotes aren't exactly your normal headline (Man killed in coyote attack?) but my attention was certainly on them!

So that explains why I walked right past the turn, and a 9-mile hike became an 11.5-mile hike! I ended up coming out on Grayback Road, and needed to take it out to the pavement, walking the mile or so up the road to the dirt road that led to my campsite. This was it for me for the day! I was pretty happy with the hike, the views, and the birds. I also felt fortunate to get to see this area before it became unavailable. 

I'll tell you, generally speaking I hate doing this. Telling people about this great place to birdwatch. . . that they won't have access to! But it is simply part of the story of birding! Indian Reservations, Nuclear Reservations, treatment plants, and all sorts of private property down to someone's backyard feeder. . . there are just times where the birds we would want to see are inaccessible. (Like this place, home to some flightless birds you may never see!)

But pull out a map, and see what other mountains and hikes might get you up to the high points of Klickitat County. I know I will be.