Last week I took my annual bike ride through the Skokomish Valley. It was a perfect ride on a perfect day and not just because it was my birthday.
I’ve made this ride on my birthday so many times that I’ve lost count. The route never changes: Park at the George Adams Salmon Hatchery just off Route 101, then ride west on Skokomish Valley Road to about a mile past the turnoff to the High Steel Bridge. The road is level, with gentle curves and light, mostly local traffic. In all, the ride is about 12 miles, and I never tire of the farms, hayfields, creeks, and familiar landmarks, including the old Skokomish Grange building.
The birthday number this year for me might have been a favored one, as it was the product of two lucky numbers (7 and 11). But the magic I felt was more likely due to the weather and the scenery plus knowing I can still make a ride like this one.
Portions of the Skokomish Valley flood almost every fall. At one point along the Skokomish Valley Road, there’s a post with one-foot markings that top out at four feet. The Skokomish River is about a quarter mile away from that marker. Perhaps four feet is a maximum number as that much flood water would submerge most of the valley near there, including the road. Local property owners must need to navigate the road carefully during the November rains when they drive out to Route 101.
On several previous rides I have seen dozens of freshly cut and bundled hay bales as mid-July is haying season. This year I saw a man cutting hay in a smaller field but no bundles yet. I wonder if he was aware of the weather forecast for the next day, which predicted rain, and was planning to bale the hay after it dried out.
A small bridge crosses Hunter Creek (see photo) about two miles in from Route 101. Every year I have the same thought when I reach the bridge—this location would make a great swimming hole. I didn’t need to cool off this year as the temperature was pleasantly in the low 70’s, but if a future birthday bike ride takes place on a hot day, perhaps I will bring a swimsuit and water shoes.
A few years ago Mason County added big concrete blocks as a flood control measure along the Skokomish Valley Road where it closely parallels the river. Prior to their installation, this was a favorite public spot to access the Skoke’s gravel-covered banks for sunbathing and wading. Now there’s no nearby parking, not because of signs, but due to the concrete blocks. Without parking, there aren’t many people.
I finished my ride in the early afternoon, ate a picnic lunch at the fish hatchery, and checked out the two tanks full of hundreds of active rainbow trout, which looked, to my untrained eye, ready for release soon.
Mud Bay Blog 