GET OUT
The Winter Hotel
Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge’s Shorebird Loop 341 West Harris St., Eureka 707 445-3138
poletskis.com
• Servicing Humboldt County for over 40 years • Largest in stock new & used inventory • Competitive price guarantee • Delivery and Service after the sale
“LARGEST BRAND SELECTION IN THE COUNTY”
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By Meg Wall-Wild
getout@northcoastjournal.com
W
hen recovering after surgery, I was faced with a dilemma: Where to go for a gentle walk that was long enough without tempting me beyond limitations, yet interesting enough to keep hardened hikers happy, as well as amply benched for when the spirit was willing but the flesh needed to take a load off? On a lovely November day, I found exactly what I needed at Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge. At 1.7 miles, the Shorebird Loop Trail was long enough for a good walk, a flat, easy stroll for tender wounds. The wheelchair accessible loop has several wildlife viewing stations, including one spectacular location with an octagonal viewing platform. Our adventure began when we passed the gate cautioning it would be locked at 5 p.m. To the left was a small parking lot with interpretive signs. The Aleutian geese that dotted this private field winter here, like many escaping the long grasp of a frozen winter. The state’s largest eelgrass beds keep the geese well fed and a short grass pasture is groomed to help them flourish. Back in the van, we followed Eel River Road to the Richard J. Guadagno Visitor Center, replete with ample solar panels. A whiteboard showed a list of recent wildlife sightings and that we’d just missed the 11 a.m. Wednesday guided tour. Just as well, as my speed was not yet up for group travel. We paused to take in the expansive view of Aleutians in the distance. The sun glinted in our faces. The ramp down to the path beckoned. An interpretive panel reminded us the Wiyot people are the original stewards of Humboldt Bay, and their gentle use of the land was a stark contrast to mechanized farming. The landscape’s agricultural history left many irrigation channels and access roads still used to manage the wetlands, but clearly marked off-limits for hikers. Humans are not the target market of this Winter Hotel. Flooded in winter, dry in summer, the refuge caters to its patrons’ every need, be they a winter wader or a summer ground nester. More than 10,000 Pacific Brant can check in on any given day from January through April, leaving as the seasonal beds are being remade for Summer Hotel arrivals. We happily follow the path, pausing at the first floodgate. I love a good bit of hydraulic engineering. Wandering off, we strolled between trees in glorious noonday sunlight. Delighted, we found a birdwatching station complete with Bird
NORTH COAST JOURNAL • Thursday, Dec. 23, 2021 • northcoastjournal.com
Sampler panel that suggests The freshwater marshes are maintained and protected by the getting an identification and irrigation and flood gates left behind by agriculture. a good set of binoculars Photo by Meg Wall-Wild (embarrassingly left at home). I take a snapshot of the sign to creating pasture for cattle and fields for grain. tide us over. The changes it made in the estuary were seen I scanned ahead for a bench but it already as positive. Retired in the 1970s, the rusting held two lovely ladies who nodded hello hulk now bears witness to work that reverses as we passed. The strip of riparian forest its efforts. thinned and delicate lichen dripped light The next bench overlooked brackish green from autumn-bare branches. Velvet waters. Humboldt Bay has gnawed at the dike brown cattails shed tan fluff in the light opposite, its rising tides undaunted by old breeze. There is fall color beyond the blaze earthworks. A change in sea level combined of short-term deciduous glory. “Harrier! with greater king tides leaves it all at risk. We Harrier!” my spouse whispered as he pointed wandered along, stopping at the next panel out the feathered blur of a raptor. to learn more about the salmon fry habitat in I inhaled, content to mosey, always looking the aptly named Salmon Creek. for the next bench. Instead, I saw a lone My partner pointed out a structure in the duck dip underwater, searching the bottom distance. Built of solid redwood, the octagof Salmon Creek as two egrets fished in the onal viewing station has a curved ramp and background. The duck popped up further tee-shaped bench to make any weary visitor along than I anticipated, wagging tail feathers happy. The expansive view took our breath as it floated away. away, and we giggled at the interpretive panI barely noted passing over the next els about feathers and flight that were dotfloodgate as an empty bench overlooking ted with guano. We stepped over an eaten freshwater Long Pond appeared. I sat with a wing at the top of the ramp, reminding the satisfied sigh. The handful of ducks scattered hotel is also a larder for hunters, two- and to the far reaches of the pond. At full capacfour-legged, as well as winged. The northern ity, the Winter Hotel can host up to a mind edge of the grounds is the realm of hunters boggling 100,000 birds (turndown service not looking for a goose or duck dinner. available). People chatted as they passed, faces Only 10 percent of Humboldt Bay’s turned to the sun. We had come full circle saltwater marshes are left, having been and the bench that earlier held friends was managed out of existence for the sake of now empty. A left fork gave us an opportufreshwater agriculture. Like most U.S. Fish nity to take in the last viewing station. We and Wildlife preserves, Humboldt Bay NWR were charmed by a quiet backwater with started with farmers and agencies stitching cattails and scattered ducks that quacked together conservation easements and leases. their disdain at having their photo taken. An The restoration started a long time ago, but old barn stood testament to the hard graft climate change and rising sea levels continue of wresting a life from wet soil. Silver gray, its to threaten these valuable wetlands. hulk took on a beauty of its own. A cacophLong Pond lives up to its name. We amony startled us as a great flock of Aleutian bled along as the light breeze added ripples geese took off over the field. We glimpsed to the wake of the ducks. Without binocuthem through the trees as the living mass lars, they seemed to challenge us to identify circled its domain. them. Next time. Tired but not worn, happy and satisfied, The Shorebird Loop looped, crossing over we headed back to our vehicle. “Binocuanother floodgate. The gate stood guard, lars,” he muttered as we passed through the closed to protect the wetlands from incurparking lot. “Binoculars,” I agreed. ● sions of seasonal high tides. After the danger passes, the gate will be opened to allow for Meg Wall-Wild (she/her) is a freelance the reconnection of freshwater creeks to writer and photographer who loves her the bay. The thin strips of land separating the books, the dunes of Humboldt and her freshwater and brackish marshes seemed so husband, not necessarily in that order. fragile. These dikes were created and mainWhen not writing, she pursues adventure tained by dredging. A massive round scoop in her camper, Nellie Bly. Follow Meg on rested on the bank. Formerly the main tool Instagram @megwallwild. of the dredge Jupiter, the bucket was vital in
