Salmon Journey

Today, my friend, Lindy, and I decided to take a salmon journey. After a good lunch we wandered through Renton looking for our first stop. We were not lost, simply exploring. Eventually we did end up at Riverview Park viewing site. We put on this silly glasses which are polarized to help you see the salmon. The river was mostly full of sockeye. They were full of life and you could see them splashing as they competed for spawning spots. Many of salmon will continue much further up the river. Most of the river bottom was dark but where the redds were the river was much lighter. I was amazed to realize there was a big Chinook right under me. Without the red color of the sockeye it blended in so well that neither Lindy or my camera could find it.

Lindy looking for Salmon

Polarized Glasses to help us see the salmon
Aren't I cool?

Fun fact -Spawning female salmon lay an average of 3,000 eggs in a season, in up to five nests. Salmon face many challenges to survival throughout their life cycle, including silt smothering the eggs, predators, pollution, harvest, oxygen-poor water, high water temperatures, and loss of habitat. Only one or two salmon (1/10 of 1%) from an egg nest make it back to their home streams to spawn. source

Look carefully, there are salmon.
The lighter area is the redd they have made.

Next we were off to Cavenaugh Pond. When we arrived they were passing out glasses again. There was an information both and naturalists. We then walked down a path that went along side the Cedar River. Mostly the bushes were too high to see the river, but we got peeks at both the Cedar and the salmon. When we reached the end of the trail the Department of Fish and Wildlife and set up a fish sorting operation. There were so many salmon! They were pulling out some sockeye and taking them up to the fish hatchery at Landsburg. On that day they'd seen a Chinook and also an early Coho. The fish biologist would stand in this cage and catch the large (and annoyed) salmon with a net. The ones they kept for the fish hatchery were placed in a black rubber bag and carried to a nearby truck. I guess we were really lucky to get to see this in action.

ha ha... I got a picture of Lindy with the glasses

We spent quite a bit of time at Cavanagh. The salmon weren't as lively as at a first stop. Many seemed to be building redds there and many seemed to just be resting. As we were standing there a female sockeye drifted down and died right in front of us. I hadn't really expected it to be quite as sad as it was. I felt sorry for the fish. I also found them more beautiful then I expected. It's amazing to think some of those salmon will continue for many more miles before spawning

The weir where the fish get stopped.
Look carefully, there's quite a few fish

The fish biologist climbing out of the sorting "cage"

The salmon truck, getting loaded with "boys" and "girls"

The light color is a fungus.

After that Lindy said we should stop by the Issaquah Salmon Hatchery. It made our journey go full circle since we began in Issaquah. It was very busy. Unlike the Cedar River most of the Salmon were Chinook with some Coho. Once again they were very lively and they kept trying to jump across the little damn. The gate to the fish ladder was closed and occasionally one of the salmon would bang hard against the gate. Lindy says she's seen a lot more fish there but I was still impressed. All in all it was a fun day.

There were a lot of salmon (click on photo to see better)

It was mostly Chinook salmon at Issaquah but I did see a few Coho

Fun Fact - Spawning female salmon lay an average of 3,000 eggs in a season, in up to five nests. Salmon face many challenges to survival throughout their life cycle, including silt smothering the eggs, predators, pollution, harvest, oxygen-poor water, high water temperatures, and loss of habitat. Only one or two salmon (1/10 of 1%) from an egg nest make it back to their home streams to spawn. source

I couldn't resist the shot through the window.
These fish are headed up the fish ladder

Isn't it amazing how they can jump!

A reason to return to Meadowbrook

I went to Meadowbrook/Snoqualmie Valley Trail again. How many times have I been there? How many times have I blogged about it? I'm not really sure. It was a magical night. I remember a sermon my rabbi gave years ago. He talked about how people are always looking for something new. A new place to go; a new adventure to follow. How we will sometimes view a routine with disdain. He went on to talk about the depth of experience you can gain by knowing something deeply and intimately.

I think the reason that sermon struck me so strongly is because it speaks deeply to my life. I often feel guilt that I'm not being a "real hiker". I'm usually sticking close to home and going to familiar, easily accessible places. I tell myself I need to get motivated and get out there, and yet I know the wonder of the familiar.

As I drive down the road towards Meadowbrook I'm filled with anticipation. I start scanning the field looking for the elk. I know they are often there. These are "my" elk. When I get to the marsh I look and listen for the red-wing blackbirds. I know it's spring when I hear their song. When I take the little side trail towards the river, I look for the eagle. I will never forget that moment the eagle circled over my head. I may never see an eagle in that place again but that place is full of meaning for me. Familiarity gives you a chance for a rich relationship. Memories create connections that reminds us of who we are and what's important.


Tonight was one of those moments were the connections and beauty lift my spirit. The Fall colors and sunset were beautiful. Familiarity meant that I didn't have to rush ahead worrying there was something better that I might miss. I watched the sunset over the swamp. I listened to the dipper sing it's beautiful, liquid song by the river. As I turned around the mist was collecting in the field with Mt Si darkening behind. Then as the night and fog deepened I heard the elk bugling. It's an experience I wish everyone could have and the only word I find is "Magic".



I think I'm finding an acceptance for myself I didn't realize I needed. I've carried these expectations, some imposed by others and some imposed by myself. The idea that I need to be a "real" hiker and a "real" naturalist. I doubt I will hike any great distance on the Pacific Crest Trail or climb a mountain. I doubt I travel the world or even the country in a search for exotic animals. I don't need to load up my pack to experience the natural world. I may go months without taking a "real" hike. Yet, I'm connected to something magical each time I walk or pick up my camera. That sense of wonder and awe I carry with me is something I wish everyone could experience.