In the bottom of the hollow was a placid weed choked pond. I sat here for a while sucking on a soda, then suddenly realized that I was not alone. The tall weatherbeaten trees were the roosting spot for about a hundred Great Blue Herons. As I watched in open mouthed amazement, the enormous birds took wing in ghostly silence, their wings darkening the sky. The eerie and beautiful sight took my breath away.
We hiked southwards towards the end of the spit. Only a short ways from the Coast Guard building, we found several old cement ammo bunkers nestled in the brush. Large hemispherically shaped structures, some were open and empty. Others were locked and we could only guess what was inside.
Towards the south end of the spit, the land became flat, covered with beach grass and studded with occasional dwarf shore pines. Out in this area we found a small cement building that had once housed a big generator. To the west of this, towards the ocean, we crossed a small ridge to find a low valley that was covered with wild strawberries. We grazed our way across the valley and headed back north, taking an inland route to avoid crossing the same ground twice, we wanted to see new country rather than what we had already walked.
New was what we saw. We found the phantom railroad tracks. The metal rails were gone, but the ties emerged spookily from the base of one giant sand dune and dissapeared into another two hundred feet away. We also found the phantom telegraph poles stretching across the top of one great dune. Old power lines with all of the glass insulators still on them. The poles had been engulfed by the dynamic moving dunes and we were able to stand on sand near the tops of the poles that were probably thirty feet high.
Wildlife abounded in this area. Deer and spotted skunks were everywhere. Porcupines were also numerous. Birds of prey were omnipresent, from Marsh hawks to Barn Owls. Feral cats lived well here on the numerous mice and rats. We found dozens of intact Sand Dollars and beautiful Scallop shells on the oceanside beach. I found one large odd shaped shell that my high school science teacher identified as the ear bone of a Gray Whale.
This was the beginning of many trips to the north Spit. After this first trip, my friends had fallen in love with the place and wanted to go there whenever possible. We made new discoveries with every trip.
Years later, I had been married and divorced. I found myself deeply involved with Jo, a girl whom I became engaged to. While she was visiting me from Spokane Washington one week, she leafed through my photo albums. She became interested in some photos from one of my teen trips to the North Spit. "I want to see this place." She said. "Can you take me there?"
Hours later Jo and I found ourselves inside the old Coast Guard building. An early spring rain shower had started and we had taken shelter from the wet and chill. Together we sat on the ancient stairway and watched the rain fall outside. Creeping Ivy framed the window and we were dry and cozy in each other's arms as we listened to the falling water and looked out at the gray bay waters.
"We may be stuck here for a while." Jo said. "What are we going to do?"
"I guess we just have to improvise." I grinned as I kissed her.
Her soft hazel eyes sparkled with a sudden naughtiness and she flashed me a white smile. "Guess so." She began to unbutton her blouse as I took her in my arms. I could feel the ghosts of the past around us we heatedly made love on the dusty stairway. Outside the rain pattered comfortingly amidst the chittering of the swallows. A part of me was aware of the clunking of one of her shoes as it fell off of her foot and bounced down the stairs.
A couple of years later I went out to the spit alone after a long absence. It was a bright and warm early summer morning. I walked the lonely bayside beach, listening to the calling of various birds. Watching Great Blue Herons wading across the mudflats in search of minnows and crustaceans. Near the south end I found a rustic little shelter constructed at the edge of the beach amidst a grove of shore pines. Alone, I sat and made a lunch of noodles and Beach peas that I had gathered along the way. I also threw in parts of a large crab that I had captured at the low tide zone.
It was a long and lazy day. I laid there on a bench inside the open fronted shelter. Seagulls whirled and cried from the beach and I watched fishing boats glide through the sleepy blue waters on their way to the ocean. Later I moved on to the oceanside. The surf was thunderous upon the big ocean beach and for miles I was utterly alone. Well, perhaps not as alone as I thought. Down near the water line was a little spotted skunk sniffing around here and there in the sand. The little fellow was obviously hungry as evidenced by the fact that he was abroad in the daylight searching for food, unusual for a nocturnal animal.
Against my better judgement I slowly wandered towards him. The fluffy black and white animal paid little attention to me other than to assume a momentary alert posture with upraised tail when I moved too quickly for his comfort. Keeping my movements slow and liquid, I gradually overcame his fear of me and got within arms length. There we were together in the golden light of the westering sun. A tiny skunk and I. As he rooted about in the wet sand I too searched with my fingers, digging for things to give him. Finally I discovered a large female crab sequestered in the sand. The skunk eagerly accepted peices of the hapless crab from my fingers, the poor creature was famished. Taking a pack of crackers from my pack I sampled some of the crab's eggs on one. Not very good. The eggs were very bitter and I let my new found friend have them.
The slowly setting sun cast lovely orange\gold light across the beach and I was beset by memories as my small black and white friend accepted more food from my fingers. So many memories. There was the time when my friends and I had run out of food but were not yet ready to leave the spit and go home. I lead them to the north jetty where I showed them what types of edible shellfish lived in the rocks at the waterline. We dined well once they got over their skittishness at the unusal menu of limpets, goose necked barnacles, urchin eggs, etc.
I remembered the first time we had topped the crest of a big sand dune to find curious and beautiful wind sculpted formations on the summit that looked like models of great canyons in miniature, some large enough to walk into.
There was also the time that my friend Norman and I had topped a small hill out on the lowlands of the south end to come upon a herd of elk. We watched them with delight until the animals spotted us. Instead of fleeing, the creatures all began to advance towards us.
"Isn't that neet?" Sa
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| The North Spit--[part Three |
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