The Canon River flows into the Palix delta where three other rivers merge among winding crisscrossing channels. It’s a beautiful place to escape, get lost, and explore as I try to become more familiar with it.
I paddle with a print-out map and a small marine GPS that shows recorded depths. I try to match what I’m seeing, the route’s shape on paper, and the ongoing GPS plot’s shape. Meanwhile, a splash of an otter or flapping of wings often reminds me to look around at what’s important instead. One of my cameras inconsistently records where it took its picture on its internal map. That helps figure out where I was when I process it later. The marine GPS’s maps are vague with today’s shifting little rivers.
Today I’m paddling the Canon River and maybe the Middle Fork of the Palix River. Here’s a map I’ve drawn for my launch guide book and a Google Map of what I’m looking for today.
Ready and aimed north to paddle south. No other vehicles are at the launch on this winter Tuesday.
The sun is radiant.
Much of this land is managed by the Fish and game Department. After the first bend, no buildings are visible nor is there any highway noise. Bufflehead and Common Mergansers are among the many birds in this area.
After passing the South Fork Palix entrance, I looked for the entrance to the Canon and Middle Fork Palix rivers on the right.
I turned south onto a familiar channel. The camera’s GPS later confirmed where I was. It may look as if I were paddling towards a lake, but it is a grassy meadow with channels that change with the tide. The Canon River flows off to the lower southeast. The shorter Middle Fork Palix leaves the grassy ‘lake’ off to the east.
Today I think I again paddled over a meadow adjacent to this ‘lake’. It looked familiar. This area reminded me of where I had once been surprised by a set of bones back in 2020. This is what I saw back then and the camera’s location map:
Same place today? I wasn’t sure until later.
Then today I found this distinctive mossy tree glowing in the sun.
Back in 2020 I thought this tree was on the the south or middle Palix. When I processed today’s pictures at home I learned that this tree is on the Canon. The camera’s map below confirms it. I corrected the two previous posts of the Canon that you can read here .
I took a pretty good video of it back then. I’ve now relabeled it on YouTube as the Canon River after today’s trip.
It was impressive then, and still is.
A little further I couldn’t make headway against the current. Here’s one last look upstream. Same place and the same current as four years ago. This must be the Canon River again. The launch guide book I publish and use to plan these trips has always had it right; I just need to get familiar with the area.
Returning, I met a river otter. Later at home I discovered we were 300 feet from the entrance of the Middle Fork Palix.
I also met a plover dipping that attracts curious insects and worms to the surface.
I paddled back out into the grasslands. Maybe the tides and storms will leave this ‘stump that watches’ for reference when I return.
Towards the mouth of the North Fork Palix, I saw birds in the distance. Waterfowl hunting season ended two weeks ago on January 28, so I can understand them keeping their distance.
Into the North Fork.
Out of the wind while still in the bright sun.
Soon the hills closed in. It was getting late and the sun was low.
Then it was back out to follow the shoreline two and a half miles home looking for more otters and birds that might be patient enough to wait for a photograph. That night I watched a nature special on the TV and resolved to improve my camera skills.
Beyond these pilings once used to assemble log rafts is US 101, the hill by Goose Point Oysters, and a soon to be warm car. The day had been very quiet until now.
Driving south I stopped to admire the sunset briefly at the boat launch to Long Island.
After I got home I mentioned that maybe I had paddled the wrong river today. What I’d seen on past trips nearby I’d seen again today on the Canon. The ‘Moss Tree’ that glows and the ‘Bay of Bones’ were there again. I had apparently retraced a previous route. Referring to my past route maps confirmed it.
Left is my route from 4 years ago, then 2 1/2 years ago (no Canon), and today’s trip on the right.
ScreenshotScreenshot
A revisit, a déjà vu. Now to figure out the Middle Fork entrance next time also using the phone’s maps and knowing the area better. In fact, the phone’s ‘Map My Tracks’ app is a very good tool that I should use more. If I carefully learn to use this app for more photographs and check the the ‘Map My Tracks’ app’s map, I’ll better know where I am.
The black line below is part of today’s route as recorded by the Map My Tracks app. Next time I’ll use it or another app more for navigating.
Screenshot
9 miles traveled in 3 hours and 34 minutes with a maximum speed of 5.3 mph averaging 2.5 mph when moving. 43 minutes enjoying ‘stopped time’ learning a different camera and enjoying the scenery.
Here is a list I put together to help explore the Willapa Bay and its tributaries. It’s not the only one but reflects my abilities and preference to keep close to a shoreline. The Washington Water Trails Association also posts their list of thirteen Willapa Bay Water Trail Access Points here. Importantly, they offer a page of frequently asked questions about the Willapa Bay here. My modest expertise ends at the launch site where I have been known to drop my boat off the van (once). I don’t work for any of the many groups that study and preserve this area. I hope you get ideas for your adventures ahead on Willapa Bay and enjoy my posts of this region. This was updated July 2023 as South Bend repaired their city kayak dock to as it was before their big dock sank and Raymond replaced their kayak platform with a pull-by-paddle kayak dock identical to the one in Wheeler Oregon.
Working clockwise from Willapa Bay’s entrance to the Pacific Ocean, I am starting at this intersection located at the north end of Raymond. Turning west towards Grayland and Westport will take us to the most northern launch points onto the Willapa Bay on SR 105.
#1 Tokeland Marina From the intersection of US 101 and SR 105 in Raymond, drive 22 miles west. If you choose to launch from the marina you’ll find yourself on open water near the Pacific Ocean requiring a careful appraisal of the tide, weather, and your skills. Below is the ramp and a view towards the Willapa River.
The nearby Cedar River flows through a weir and tide gate into the Willapa Bay. Its entrance is a 7 mile round trip paddle from the Tokeland Marina. It requires a portage up a steep riprap beach and across SR 105. I enjoyed a 3.6 mile round trip paddle up to its shallows by driving to its mouth as written about in this post. Shown is the Cedar River’s gate to the bay and a view upstream.
#2 Smith Creek From the intersection of US 101 and State Route 105 in Raymond, drive west 10 miles and launch by the Smith Creek bridge. An undeveloped quiet 9 mile round trip written about here. Staying close to shore, with cautious planning for the weather and tide, it’s a 7 mile one way trip to the Tokeland Marina, South Bend or the beach below the Bruceport Campground.
#2 Smith Creek The access to North River is a 500 foot paddle from the adjacent Smith Creek. I paddled a quiet 13.2 mile round trip past floating cabins and the occasional recreational fishing boat as posted here.
#3 Wilson Creek. At the intersection of US 101 Hwy. and SR 105 at Raymond, drive east on Monohon Landing Road 4 miles up the Willapa River. From here you can paddle up or downstream towards the Willapa Bay 11.5 miles away through Raymond and South Bend with over 25 miles of the Willapa River’s forks and sloughs to explore as partly shown here.
#4 Raymond Riverfront Park.Next to Willapa Paddle Adventures, the Willapa Seaport Museum and the NW Carriage Museum is a hand carry dock with an added easy kayak launch. The Willapa River forks here giving you three major routes some which are shown here. Below is a view of the dock, the nearby lumber mill and swing bridge.
#5 Helen Davis Memorial Park is on the Willapa River at the west end of South Bend. From here it is a 5 mile round trip to Willapa Bay and a 9 mile round trip to Raymond as shown here. Dock repairs to the hand carry kayak dock adjacent to the Elixir Coffee Shop were completed in 2023.
#6 The Bone River Natural Area Preserve No facilities, limited parking and a steep muddy hand launch at lower tides offers a 5 mile round trip that’s historical and protected from development. Launching from nearby Bay Center would make this a 13+ mile round trip as I did here.
#7 Bay Center From the marina’s dredged ramp you can paddle upstream to the Niawiakum River and/or the Palix River delta. Shown below is the ramp and Goose point Oysters at the entrance to the Niawiakum River.
#8 Palix and Canon Rivers Accesses the three forks of the Palix River and the Canon River through the meadows and forests as written about here. Located 1/3 mile south of the US 101 bridge over the Palix River.
#9Naselle Launching onto the Naselle River at Naselle you can paddle upstream or downstream through pastures and forests before reaching Willapa Bay 12 miles away as I’ve done here.
Shown below is the lot and the nearby Ellsworth Slough.
#11 Willapa National Wildlife Refuge Ramp provides access across to Long Island, with campsites north and on its west side. A collection of posts crossing to the island to hike the trails around the old growth cedars can be found here.
The Willapa National Wildlife Refuge Headquarters has moved from here southwest across the bay adjacent to the Dohman Creek launch.
#12Dohman Creek provides access to Willapa Bay’s southern salt marsh and the Tarlett Slough. This launch opened within the Riekkola Unit late 2018. Turn east off Sandridge Road at 67th Place and drive 2.3 miles to a restroom and parking lot. Below is a picture of the launch and Tarlett Slough as written about here.
#13 Port of Peninsula at Nahcotta: Is located 12 miles north of the intersection of Highway 101 and Sandridge Road at Seaview. From here you can see the the local oyster industry and waterfront homes. Two miles east is the northern end of Long Island, a crossing that is unforgiving to poor planning and may leave you stranded until the tide returns. I’ve written about it here.
Bonus: Posts of Accessible Lakes and Canals on the LB Peninsula
These are collected from my collection of posts that features the Columbia River west of Longview, the Oregon coast from Wheeler north to Ocean Shores Washington.
A guide book is available in several shops, by mail or on Kindle and is available here.
The Bear River is five miles northwest of Ilwaco at the south end of the Willapa Bay. Highway 101 parallels the Bear and then crosses the river before continuing southwest up the hills overlooking the Columbia River on the way to Seaview or Astoria.
The Bear has been an elusive goal. I have friends who have paddled this river by pulling off the highway onto a wide driveway entrance. They then carried their boats 200 feet across the highway to launch but my paddle trips book discourages this type of parking in favor of using safer parking lots.
Dohman Creek to the west has a proper launch but the bay between is wide and shallow. Launching from the Willapa Refuge is about the same distance but has advantages. This is a segment of NOAA’s full map of Willapa Bay available here. I’ve had one printed up and it makes wall art worthy of close inspection.
Dohman Creek is off to the lower left, Long Island is at the top. The pale blue show the channels through the green mud. “The soundings are in feet at “Mean Lower Low Water which is the lowest of the two low tides per day (or the one low tide) averaged over a 19-year period.” (from the map)
Today the tide looked OK (very important), It would be rising from 1.4 up to 7.7′ and back down to 3.4′ at sunset. Much better to start with a higher tide but with patience, water would arrive.
The wind would be strong at 13 mph with gusts from the NNE which would blow me south. I could then zig-zag back home, on a 5’+ tide, maybe even visiting the Dohman channel on the way back. Eleven miles within eight and a half hours of sunlight. A doable plan. By staying near the highway in the Bear River channel I would have the additional safety of a beach close by and traffic to hitchhike back north if everything went wrong.
There is a channel visible between the highway and Round Island. I later used the deeper channel is on the far side.When I arrived an airboat was just docking. It easily powered around over the water and mud and up onto its trailer and left.After launching, here is la view south towards the Bear River Bridge, two and a half miles behind the lone fir tree.Looking across to the Long Beach peninsula, a large flock of geese flew north.
I first went west to High Point on Long Island and followed the channel down the back side of Round Island.
Like the moon, the far side of Round Island can only be photographed after a launch. Here is a glimpse.
The tide as measured in nearby Bay Center was +5.5′ flowing in at 2.0 ft/hr.
A warning from a gull standing nearby in the water. My Garmin’s GPS chart helped to keep me in the channel.
Soon the breeze pushed me south out of the channel.
Prodding the shallow sandy mud.
Then the boat just stuck there. I poled it NE toward the channel nearer the highway but had to be patient as the tide continued to rise.
With the rudder, foot drive and the dagger board pulled up, the boat was plenty shallow but had little resistance to skating down wind away from the channel. Time for an airboat.The pale blue line coming in from the lower left journalized the trip to the shore on the right and a preview of where to next.
Here is the nearby beach and after an inspection there was no damage, just more adventure scratches.
The tide was now incoming at 0.8′ ft/hr near the day’s high of +7.9′. It was about to start flowing out in 45 minutes. I gave up on the Bear River. The depth was OK, the boat was now in its element and safely handles 20-25 mph winds. The Bear was not a good destination at all in these conditions but Round Island was on the way home.
The sail was reefed to half size as the breeze came from several directions and velocities partly due to the surrounding land.There was calm water on the lee side of the island.Nearby on the beach was not a cormorant skull.This is not ancient bird art.This is likely not a tooled axe blade though this island has a long history as a burial site before it was plundered.
Not a tree fern, not likely a bird nest, but also photographed five years ago. These are Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum) and trilliums on the steep banksThere was a little bit of trash as I circumvented the island’ shore.
As I left, the calm became windy as I rounded the island and the Willapa Refuge launch channel came into view.
White caps and wind returned until I got to the lee side of Long Island.Calm like a small lake.Then it was out again past the fresh oyster bed markers..More waves and wind as I neared the ramp.
A little car on the ramp drove off just as I pulled on to shore. Maybe they were entertained as I tacked back and forth and pedaled upwind. I’d like to think they were checking for a safe landing before driving off. I would do the same.
When I got home and sat down, I noticed the room pitching up and down, like our house was afloat. I later had no appetite for dinner. Driving the car usually doesn’t produce motion sickness, didn’t think driving a boat would either.
This ended up being more of a technical trip to satisfy curiosity than a beautiful trip. Probably won’t do this route again.
7.2 miles traveled in 2 hours and 45 minutes with a maximum speed of 7.9 mph averaging 2.6 mph.An hour and a half as I waited for the tide to rise and poked around Round Island.
Not the fastest, not Bear River, but home and safe 2.5 hours before sunset with more knowledge of Willapa Bay.
12 October 2020: Willapa National Wildlife Refuge (points north)
Willapa Bay’s Long Island is often mentioned when kayakers ask about where to find remote camping away from it all. I realized I had never actually seen Sawlog or Lewis Campgrounds on the east side though I had paddled near them. We once visited the Pinnacles Rock and Smokey Hollow Campgrounds on the lower west side and that post is here. Sawlog Campground on the Baldwin Slough is just two and a half miles measured straight from the Willapa National Wildlife’s launch ramp. Today I’d find it.
With Covid-19 still on the rise, this trip would be close to home.A couple stopping to admire the view. Free parking across the street but facilities are closed.
The posted chart below shows that it’s currently bear season on the island. Calling the Refuge’s headquarters (M-F 7:30-4:00) at (360) 484-3482 can help clear things up if you’re planning to explore.
Otherwise, the ramp’s instructions are pretty simple.
Not the best of tides. It would be falling from 8.1′ to 3.5′ for the six and a half hour trip. The receding tide would help pull me north and I was expecting a breeze from the NW to help push me home. I had maps of the channels available and the usual safety gear. Below 5′ the oyster beds sometimes scrape the boat and the extended beaches are extra muddy.
Looking south I tried to leave a wake while heading north towards the point on the left.
Once I reached the island’s shore, the barnacles were eye level. The tide is often a couple of feet higher.
Soon I noticed a passenger. This was five days after VP Pence had not noticed a fly during his debate with Kamala Harris. The little guy remained for several minutes.
Before reaching the slough for Sawlog I spotted a shorter slough.
It was in the middle of the grasslands so it was unlikely Sawlog but it was worth a look. Several camera-shy plovers were nearby foraging.
As I paddled north a white line of floats were extending from the shore. Maybe the net would not quite reach the other shore. I took evasive action away from the island to see if there was room to pass.
If the trawler was going shore to shore I’d be trapped, and soon. Two gunshots echoed from somewhere.
I still had a chance to turn around and set a course south but the other ship had left passage near the shore. Meanwhile, once again I must have missed Sawlog campsite’s slough.
Pretty soon, I was further north around Paradise Point looking at another marshland. My paper map misplaced, the altitude of this southern facing bluff looked good for a campsite so I turned and followed a slough southwest. Soon I decided to land and look for the Lewis Campground.
Here is Lewis Campground. It had taken me two hours.
It was not far from where I landed.
It’s not a straight paddle west as the map might imply. It was more like looking south and doing a U-turn while paddling north. The coordinates for where I beached are N46º 28.769’ W123º 58.312’. Loaded into your search box you can see how it could be missed on a satellite view map.
I met a shy local, and it was not a hedgehog.
Here was another practical use for using telephoto. (Skyler’s black labrador, Bertie Woofter, got into two nose-quilling battles with a porcupine, because he just did not learn.)
Two campsites and latrine. Thank you U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service and the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge staff for maintaining a beautiful site.
The tide had dropped from 7.7′ to 7.2′. Unloading to camp would require a dedicated set of shoes, pants and hand-rinsing water. I headed back.
A good reference to find Lewis Slough is the number 4 tower.
A crew of birds take shifts perching there facing the breeze to indicate the prevailing wind direction.
The tide was falling at 1.2′ per hour leaving a swirl of water around the base.
This is where the planned tailwind from the NW, as the gull had indicated, would help push me home. The moving average soon to dropped from 2.9 mph to 2 mph. I put on a little burst of speed to 2.4 so as not to have a pitiful picture.
This is how to contain a salal planting, as it can become a garden thug. The ‘Thorian Line’ can be seen on the first view. The stains on the pilings reflected how the tide had dropped 3′ by the time I came back.
That cluster of pilings is a good landmark to help locate Sawlog Campground.
Continuing southwest I found Baldwin Slough.
A muddy bank at a 4.4′ tide did not encourage a walkabout. The camp’s sign is straight ahead.
The sign’s GPS position is N46º 26.930’ W123º 57.331.
I took a short walk left and right from the sign as indicated but did not see any of the six campsites or facilities. There was only 3 hours until sunset.
Update October 5, 2021: There is a set of maps of the layout of each campsite on Willapa Bay’s Long Island. Another visitor and I were sharing that we could not locate the fire pits, tent sites and restroom at the Sawlog Campsite. A call to their office had an answer. These maps are found after opening the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge home page. Once there, open: visit > visitor activities > camping > get more information > amenities > Download Long Island Campground Maps. Here is a sample of the Sawlog Campground map:
UPDATE: I discovered the old official sketches of the campsites on Long Island in Willapa Bay I previously shared no longer exists (404). On April 22, 2022 the staff released a new formal ‘pdf’ map. Thank you! The way to find it is by opening the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge home page. Once there, open: visit us > activities > camping. There you’ll find a brief paragraph about each of the five campsites. At the bottom of the page under ‘Related Documents’ is the link to the new: “Long Island Campground Map:”
The boat and I were muddy as a good ORV should be. I go for old canvas sneakers and a NRS bib with sewn in socks to keep dry, as boots were often inches too short.
With the breeze gone, it was going to be a long, quiet plod home. Unlike walking or riding a bike, I could safely close my eyes and not hit anything, yet. It was no longer a straight paddle to the point as the tide was now 3.5′ and the mudflats were appearing.
Over and through the oyster beds.
The left picture below shows one of many small oyster islands that line the channel. The center shows a foot drive with an unusual broken shaft after thumping too many intrusions into the channel. The pink line is the boat’s route, the blue marks a channel that is 4.9′ above mean low tide whereas the more narrow channel on the right becomes a deeper 9.8′. The delta shows the boat’s direction is left.
I can change the flipper’s shaft in a few minutes, or just pull it off and use one flipper. Shafts are made to bend and the other shaft was now bent but functional. Foot drive is great for using a camera and keeping up with stronger paddlers. Or, I could do what I should have been doing. Out came the paddle.
It took a casual hour and a quarter to return from the original destination at Sawlog Campground.
The route from the free phone app ‘MapMyTracks’.
Here is a less muddy look at my nautical, floating GPS. It comes with loaded charts. Several times it has shown that my paper maps and observations were wrong. Such as entering a bay off Wheeler, Oregon that was not the Nehalem River and showing a route through the islands on Elk River and the Columbia. It also continually marks the route from where I came. That helped alert me once that I was not heading home when I managed to take a wrong turn on the tidal Youngs River. It’s better than a phone or the automotive Garmin Nüvi I used to carry. The arrow marks the Refuge’s ramp.
The moving average going north with the tide had been 3.1 mph or better but came down to 2.6 overall.
13.8 miles traveled in 5 hours 20 minutes with a maximum speed of 5.5 mph averaging 2.6 mph. One hour 4 minutes stopped gathering mud, contemplating broken parts and having fun.
I found a couple of YouTube videos paddling up the Baldwin Slough from the Refuge with ambient music (there isn’t any in real life). A 2006 canoe trip with various professional angles here . The other is mostly a front camera’s view on a sea kayak in 2014 to (spoiler) the very end here .
There are two posts here, one above the other. This is meant to keep all the posts regarding this route together for easier reference later. You may have seen the older post before but this system made more sense to me than a scattered chronological order of all trips.
UPDATE: April 2022 a new pdf map of the campsites, tent sites and restrooms was made available here.
May 27, 2017, I paddled across to the ferry ramp on the island and walked up to the old growth cedars with the Audubon Society.
August 4, 2018, A friend and I paddled across to the island’s ferry ramp and walked up to the old growth cedar grove.
See also the barge trip I took July 22, 2017 with the Friends of Willapa National Wildlife Refuge, that landed in Smokey Hollow including a hike up to the cedars with Don Bonker.
4 August 2018: A Return to Long Island with Someone Who’s Never Been
James G. Swan referred to Long Island in the Willapa Bay as having timber of “little account, and would scarcely pay the labor of clearing.” This was written in 1854 in his book The Northwest Coast page 28. But logging on the island began in the 1880s and continued until 1986. However, because it was “farthest from the water, at a low elevation, (and) logistically the most difficult area to log, the Long Island cedar grove survived the logging era.”
A short distance for a lot to see.
The Friends of Willapa National Wildlife Refuge hosts an annual barge trip for its members to hike up to this grove from Smokey Hollow Campground. My friend has been unable to attend and finagled me into a promise to take her to the old grove sometime. We organized a trip for today to also include an out of town friend, who canceled, but we went anyway.
For a long time I had no idea where the trails were on Long Island until I found this free PDF map from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service at this site.
The lower portion of the map.
Tide was awful for going very far on Willapa Bay. I figured we could leave at 11:15 with a +2.3′ falling tide that would return to an incoming +4.6′ when we headed back across.
I find the app Tide Graph easy to understand.
According to Washington Water Trails, Tongue Point has the most accurate depiction of Willapa Bay tides and anytime it’s below five feet you at risk of getting stuck in the mud. I had crossed over to the island with the Audubon Society last year with only a +1.7′ tide and we did a muddy but doable landing on the island. I loaded my two kayaks and an outrigger and we carpooled to the ramp at the refuge headquarters.
The 9′ 3″ ‘MaryBeth’ kayak is a nice length to stuff inside a van for simple trips.
Two boats almost and almost ready to go.
A couple of tourists walked down to chat, with their dog.
Maybe I took an extra minute to get ready as she was quickly halfway there.
The crossing takes only ten minutes once you’re out in the water. It’s the loading at home, the short drive, and the unloading at the ramp that takes so much time.
A telephoto view before some serious catch-up paddling.
Could be worse. This is why we brought an extra pair of shoes for the walk.
Shoe sucking, down to the socks, mud.
I was wearing knee boots, which pick up just as much mud, but fortunately, they stayed on my feet.
One boat rolled up, one to go. Do I need to mention the importance of dragging them up, way up?
We are almost ready to go. The spider had to stay behind to watch the boats.
The trail is wide enough for a truck if you have access to the barge to bring it over.
The air cooled once we got away from the beach. There was a reassuring sign on the trail to help those coming in from the beach at Pinnacle Point Campground or High Point.
The word ‘BUGS’ is scrawled under the word ‘TO’ on the sign. The island is often thick with bugs.
There were even classic style trail markers ahead.
It’s just over two miles to the old growth turn off.
On the left is a growth that impressed me last year. A similar picture on the right. It just keeps getting better.
The side route is well marked.
There were free-standing cedars.
There were cedars from stumps.
There were scaffold marks from the loggers of old.
There was big bonsai too.
After an uneventful trip back, which seemed a lot more uphill than expected, we arrived back at the boats. Fortunately, they were still there due to our prudence.
There is a saying from an old Sufi tale, “Trust in Allah, but tether your camel”
I recovered the paddle and the pedal drive I had hidden in the grass. Kayakers are an honest bunch, but still…
The socks were sideways stiff, like no fire pottery.
Being the one with boots, I rinsed off her boating shoes for another round of mud sucking boat launching.
We took our splattered boats back towards the ramp.
On the way, I experimented with a system of lashing the two boats together I had worked out last year. I did remember that the little boat’s towline threads through the bow handle so it tows straight instead of sideways. I also have both ends of the line routed back to the paddler because getting out of the seat to route isn’t an option. I figure when snugged together, either paddler can power both boats. Without the budget for a tandem boat, I’m still working this out.
I’ll have a waterproof diagram next time.
Meanwhile, other kayakers were returning from the campgrounds on the west side.
A Willapa style homage to Daniel Craig from the movie Casino Royale.
All and all, we both knocked an item off our bucket lists. Still, the best way I believe to get a tour of the Don Bonker Cedar Grove is to join the Friends of Willapa Refuge, contribute to their noble work, and later reward yourself with a guided tour on their barge.
27 May 2017: A short paddle and a long walk to Long Island’s old cedar grove
This was the feature of the day, the weekend, to me: A guided trip by naturalists on a route that will easily land and hike up to the small stand of old growth cedar that has been preserved on Long Island. I had never set foot on the island until today and wasn’t sure where the trails were.
Not all birders are boaters, therefore, canoes and planning are required.
Once again I ran across Baylee Layman, owner of Willapa Paddling Adventures. Shehad just driven 35 miles south from Raymond with a customer’s rental. Her shop has a fleet of varied kayaks and paddle boards. It’s a great place to get a lesson and onto the water.
Baylee with one of her kayaks.
Robert Pyle loading up with Tom & Ann.
We were careful not to break the butterfly net in the bow.
A canoe returns for more passengers while the kayaks head for the old ferry landing.
The pickup truck of the paddling world.
Robert Pyle & crew followed.
Here’s the same scene after we came back. The tide had risen six feet and fallen back a half a foot and was still flooding the grassy bluff.
There was a large group paddling around to the far side of the island to set up camp at Smokey Hollow, one of five campsites on the island.
The evergreen huckleberry grabbed the focus as these two paddled south.
Here’s a story.
Dr. Pyle pointed out a solitary Silverleaf at the boat landing.
The trail was easy to follow as it is an old logging road covered with grass and fallen branches.
Fungi on the trail.
Water droplets – I just had to touch one and find out. I don’t recall any rain that day either. There was fog maybe four hours earlier.
The underneath was quite different from the top.
After about two miles we came to a sign and a narrow trail.
The beginning of about a fifteen-minute loop trail.
The beginning of about a fifteen-minute loop trail.
An evergreen huckleberry high up in the grove.
A topped tree with multiple new trunks.
A fallen tree is bridged instead of sawn.
The differences between lichen and moss are examined.
Not sure of the book’s title but this sighting turned out to be a grey jay, sometimes called a whiskey jack.
A phone app that was recommended was ‘Merlin Bird ID’ by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
Back to the landing with the boats still there.
Steve, on the left, handled the logistics that made this trip possible.
Dr. Pyle, Tom and I are the last two boats back.
Now I can share this trip again with a friend or several. I have one person already angling for a trip to be organized later this summer.
From the Refuge to the grove and back, at an average of 1.6 mph, with side trips took almost five hours and covered eight miles according to my ‘MapMyTracks’ app.
Smokey cat and our Robert Pyle book collection.
PostScript…Emails from Steve & R.M. Pyle June 4
Hello All:
Just wanted to say a final Thank You to you for a fun & friendly gathering last week at the refuge. We managed to stay safe on the water and to enjoy the incredible beauty of the several environments we visited, plus see, and hear some birds. I think the hiking was a bit more than what I had estimated but a welcome workout nonetheless. It was a pleasure to be involved and great to meet some new folks. I think we all enjoyed our human company as much as the flora and fauna. Hope we can do this again. I’m looking at the Ellsworth basin nearby as a potential trip next Fall or next year. For those of you who are not Willapa Hills members, I invite you to join or at least visit our website http://willapahillsaudubon.org/. So long!
BTW, we had 25 bird species identified, several by sound only.
Steve
Bob Pyle wanted me to forward the following missive:
Dear Folks,
Thanks so much for coming out with Steve and me to Long Island Saturday. Everything seemed to work out well, and I, for one, had a fine time. Thanks to those who helped with my big canoe.
I was glad to see that the Grove of Ancient Cedars was named for Congressman Don Bonker. Don was a great representative who sponsored ALL the major land protection bills passed during the Reagan administration, which wasn’t many: Columbia Gorge, Mt. St. Helens, Bowerman Basin, and Long Island. Even then, Weyerhaeuser tried to hold the cedars hostage for more money than they had agreed to take in the first place. Bonker called their bluff, and saved the rest of the cedars. (This, of course, with lots of local support, including from WHAS.) His successor, Jolene Unsoeld, got the refuge expanded and the island protection completed. We won’t see their like again in the Third District, the way it has been gerrymandered by the Republican Party.
If you would like to know more details, you will find a fairly complete summary of the whole story in my book Wintergreen: Rambles in a Ravaged Land, in the chapter called “The Last of the Old Growth.” Earlier editions leave the story somewhat up in the air, but the latest (fifth; 2016, Pharos Editions/Counterpoint) brings it all up to date.It’s available in Redmen Hall, Skamokawa, at Powell’s Books (Including Powells.com, far preferable to Amamonster for on-line book shopping), and of course in our fine libraries.
The trail penetrates just a corner of the cedar grove. There are many more and denser, ancient trees protected there than we saw, but they take some work and time to get into. Dr. Jerry Franklin (UW & USFS), the old growth guru, said upon beholding them that this was the first climax forest he had ever met outside a textbook. He thought there were 3,000 year-old cedars there, and no significant disturbance for 1000 years. Their survival was a close call.
Oh, and I was little surprised to see NO butterflies on the island, given our lucky warm, sunny day, and plenty of nectar in the salal, evergreen blackberry, and spring beauty. Not many species occupy the coastal strip, but a few have been recorded on the island, and half a dozen or more could easily have been in the habitats we traversed. The long, wet winter and spring (so-called) have been rough on their survival through the winter, thanks to what I call the Rot Factor. Another warmer & sunnier spring we might have seen some.
I much enjoyed meeting and seeing you all, and I thank brother Steve for getting this great outing together. Hope to see you again soon.
There are 3 posts here, one above the other. This is meant to keep together all the posts regarding North River and its launch sites for easier reference later. This system made more sense to me than a scattered chronological order of all trips everywhere.
September 18, 2022, I launched the Hobie kayak with sail kit at the Smith Creek launch and went up the North River as far as I could go without walking.
October 21, 2015, I launched the Hobie kayak at the Smith Creek launch and went up the North River a short ways before heading up Smith Creek instead.
March 23, 2015, I took the Hobie kayak from the Smith Creek launch up the North River and west on a side channel lined with houseboats until it ended.
Northernmost on the North River
18 September 2022
Flowing into the north side of Willapa Bay is the aptly named North River. Twice I have paddled its lower reaches. The first time on the North River I headed left off the main channel to check out a channel of floating homes that compelled me. I learned a lesson in floating log gates too. My second trip on the North River, cosmic signs kept leading me back to a fine day of paddling the Smith Creek instead.
There is a navigational mystery on the Columbia River near Wauna that I’ve recently read about. I would have liked to check out. Today’s low tide and a high wind changed my mind. The wind would be 5 to 15 mph from the north, and the tide on the Columbia would likely not be high enough. It would be however, on the North River near Toke Point. Same sun and moon, it just requires the correct location on the tide graph. Then there’s the flow rate and seasonal flow to consider, but that hasn’t been a problem yet.
I must be missing something, as the half dozen boats I saw today, except mine, were all fishing. If I learned how to fish, I could troll a hook the whole trip and maybe come home with dinner. It would add more complexity and cost, but everybody else is doing it. My dad was a dinghy sailor, not a fisherman. Dad and I would paddle about in his home-built canoe before kayaks became popular, so my non-fishing trips are plenty sentimental.
With the predicted wind from the north to bring me home, I set up the sail kit to hopefully go the furthest. I rationalize this whole set up is cheaper than a small outboard motor and forces a workout.
In my rear view, Smith Creek’s launch is next to the column on the left.
I passed the familiar North River Resort. Another fishing boat is heading upstream by their pilings.
Then come the cabins which are always interesting.
Floating cabins sometimes require big materials to maintain. This one was getting new siding and roofing. After brief pleasantries, I found out that their materials were brought in by boat. Once home, I looked at the map again and still wonder where the residents park their vehicles to boat in. This crew had a four legged supervisor.
Another cabin had homey porch landscaping.
I think I spot tomatoes.
Another porch had their landscaping tools highlighted by an old crosscut saw blade above.
Here is a natural shoreline pattern. Some logs don’t interest the saw mills.
This tree has thick mossy branches even at the end of a dry summer.
Here is one of my favorite cabins because on my first trip the owner had guests with their boats tied up and was enjoying sitting by the river with friends and a BBQ. They had waved and were friendly. I figured this is a terrestrial heaven for people who sport fish.
No one waved today.
Speaking of privacy, not everyone who buys such isolated homes are welcoming of looky loos. I was floating by with no motor sounds to warn them. I used the telephoto and cropping staying thirty feet or more away but, sometimes an owner just needs a solid fence.
This would aid dropping logs into the river for a tow maybe? The opposite shore was clear without pilings so I don’t think it’s railroad related. A satellite view shows a shadowy trail leading from this dock through the woods to a logged off area.
A clever water system. At the top of the bank the creek is sandbagged and fed into this flexible pipe for boat access. It was a waterfall sound in the quiet.
If there was a breeze, it didn’t descend into this valley.
I was fortunate be here at the right time when the reflected sun dappled the trees.
Here is a minute video of the light show.
The river narrowed.
I crossed the county line and had reached the shallows where I had predicted in my book of paddle launch sites. The book covers the area from Ocean Shores to Nehalem and west up the Columbia to Stella and Clatskanie. Here a shallow gravel bar extended across the river offering me the option to walk but not to float ahead. Sometimes dragging the boat is the answer but it was getting late. The tide was coming in but the water was flowing out.
The last view upstream. The little ‘Wind in the Willows’ wind vane on the foredeck was ready while its ceramic figures waited at home.
On the way downstream I passed a container garden of locally sourced moss, ferns and grasses.
There were fish. Impressive were the silver ones over a foot long. Too fleeting for my camera but maybe not for an alert dog and a fisherman.
After about a mile and a half I returned to what a fisherman referred to as ‘The Bend’.
There are houses hidden on one shore and the floating cabin furthest from ‘civilization’ of them all. Today it radiated power saw noises as the owner finished improvements before the coming winter.
The river returned to being calm. The fish jumped, a heron squawked as it moved downstream, and LGBs (Little Gray Birds) entertained. I would have had more time on the water leaving the sail kit at home, the numbers bear that out. Kayaking is best enjoyed when it’s simple.
Further downstream I glided by more dolphins in this thirty second video.
It was late afternoon, the workers had left. The North River Resort’s dock came into view.
Off to the left was another side channel. I saw what looked like a dairy shelter behind a dike. Then it was back to the Smith River launch.
Sunset time. Here the sun is falling over Hawks Point and Tokeland just before returning to the mouth of Smith River.
Driving home, I briefly stopped to enjoy the sun setting over Willapa Bay at Bone River…
…where the birds seen above took off west.
The free Map My Tracks app recorded my route.
The little waterproof and floatable Garmin with marine maps recorded statistics today. The phone’s free ‘Maps’ app was handy to cross reference the upper river reaches where the ‘big boat’ maps don’t go.
13.2 miles traveled in 4 hours and 52 minutes with a maximum speed of 5.2 mph averaging 2.7 moving mph.
21 October 2015: A Short Paddle North River (before heading up Smith Creek instead)
Last time I headed up North River, I turned left when I saw the second string of houseboats and continued on until it ended. Turns out, the main channel continued on the right for maybe eight more miles, and more houseboats to see too but, three things put a rethink to that.
The launch at the mouth of Smith Creek.
Rethink #1: It started raining. I saw four open boats with bundled up fishermen heading back. When I was growing up, my dad wouldn’t cancel a trip because of the rain. He said we would have been canceling a lot of trips and just included rain in the plan.
A wet and cold day, with no breeze to use a sail.
Rethink #2: A drive flipper almost fell off. I had ‘improved’ the original attachment bolts to more quickly take apart the system. (I seem to hit sunken stuff a lot). The salt water had frozen my pliers so I could not install a spare replacement bolt I carried. My fix with zip ties and wire held it together the rest of the day. The two flexing flippers swing back and forth to power the boat. I didn’t think it wise to keep going further away with my plastic repair.
The 2nd picture is flipped left to right but, the flipper on the top picture almost slid off its rod because the retaining bolt fell off.
Rethink #3: No drinking water for me, my water bottles were back in the car. A PB sandwich and crackers plus a four-hour trip ahead, oops.
Here’s a look at some of the river houses.
In 2010 a 1,250 sq. ft. 3 bedroom house tied along here sold for $20,000. Here’s the listing.
Here’s a small tree that must wish it could reach a root down into the river.“Aha! We found ourselves a kayak, heh heh.” (It’s not easy to lock up a boat). They had caught a sixteen-inch jack – a young adult salmon that had returned early before having fully grown.
I didn’t want to go home, the fun hadn’t really started yet. Smith Creek shouldn’t take too long. It actually took me two hours up and back and is posted under ‘Smith Creek.’
23 March 2015: Paddling up the North River
The North River is at the top of Willapa Bay, a little over an hour away from Ilwaco. Further upstream it also crosses Highway 101 near Artic. A local told me today that he once paddled 35 miles downstream from Artic to Willapa Bay. Well, sorry, we’re just going upriver three and a quarter miles, but, this isn’t just an ordinary woodsy river.
Lower North River at low tide. The launch is at the lower right.
See those white dots in the river above the ‘105’ sign? I found out from poking around the internet that those are floating cabins. There are no access roads, nor do any cabins seem to be for sale as far as my searches can determine. Zillow.com doesn’t place a value on these cabins either but if you want a 500 square foot cabin in Seattle, $275,000 will get you one next to Gas Works Park. http://seattlehouseboatrentals.com/sales.htm
The tide was plus-eight feet and falling but I had previously seen the ramp without mud at a one-foot tide. The incoming tide could have helped me upstream if I had arrived earlier. I was sure of a quick trip back. Turned out my speed upstream was about 2-3 mph but I later got a 6.9 mph top speed reading downstream for a 2.9 mph moving average overall.
Smith Creek launch at the 8-foot tide.
Let’s check out the cabins.
Under the first bridge & leaving Smith Creek.
Smith Creek and the rest of the North River are going to have to be another trip. The other boats I saw today had motors and probably could explore a lot more quickly but, not quietly.
Pilings to the left and the North River bridge ahead.
Rounding the point and heading upstream.
The first neighborhood of cabins.There is a nice artistic sequence of a landing goose on the first cabin. Their next cabin has a goose strung up by its little neck. This is the land where fresh food delivers itself.A home with a boat garage……and a glassed-in porch and covered wood pile/work area.Here is a place ready for fishing off the back porch.
Out of respect for their privacy, I tried to stay mid-river or on the other side. I can’t imagine people in cabins out in nowheresville like to have boaters gawk at them all day.
Enclosed porches often had the workshops combined with their storage rooms to leave the rest of the cabin less cluttered.More cabins upstream.
These places must have been built elsewhere and towed in.
I was on the opposite shore to give this guy his privacy and got a wave anyway. On the way back a couple of boats were docked, the deck was full of friends on chairs, and the smell of barbecue drifted over.I hear the sound of an outboard coming downstream.
There’s a tunnel under the branches.Another lone cabin
Protected by pilings.
This boat slowed down until I put out a thumbs up sign. I also noticed that when I came back with the tide pretty low, a pair of vehicles with their boats already trailered waited until I beached before they drove off. I like to think people watch out for each other out here.
‘google earth’ doesn’t show any access roads – the river is their highway (low tide view).
This fork in the river might have been an island, maybe not. Given a choice of a wide empty river or a narrow branch with cabins, of course, I took the cabin route. The woods and muddy banks on the main channel could wait. On the Chinook River trip, I heard from another kayaker that it’s sometimes hard to remember features of the individual rivers. I’m being a little heavy on the pictures so I can relive these trips later. I discovered later that the wider branch was the one to Artic and beyond. Yah sure, maybe if I was going downstream I could try but not today. It’s upstream and against the tide.
An ‘on the water’ view of the string of cabins shown previously from a satellite.
Huzzah, a canoe here on ‘Riverside Drive’.A freshwater system.
That little duck above the end of the log is a female hooded merganser I think, hanging with a male mallard. She had lovely light brown feathers done up in a mohawk that let the sun filter through. They were the best looking couple on the river and posed for a couple of movies. They did fancy footwork swim-bys, log-hops and aerial feats for me that I couldn’t do. First here’s a generic picture of her from the web:
This floating log was hooked between two fallen trees. Just a little push to the left would have freed it and let it float away but I couldn’t slide it sideways. I was able to push it upstream and paddle through, and then, it closed behind me.
A boat garage.
I parked in the garage, got out some food, turned around and went to undo the gate again.
Now, all I have to do is grab the left side of the log, and pull it open against the current. Just like pushing but backward. It really wasn’t the same at all and wouldn’t open.up & over
Instead, it was a push down on the shallow end of the log and pulling myself over.
Greetings from Chinook!
As I approached the bridge at the mouth of North River, I used up the last of the camera battery stalking a seal that had splashed off a dock. Didn’t get a picture but above is a cute picture of a seal I took on the Columbia River.
‘MapMyWalk’ took me straight overland at the end when the battery totally died while looking for the seal.The Garmin’s timer is correct so the rest should be too. This also included a mile round trip off the main channel into an interesting slough. (7.7 miles traveled in 2 hours 36 minutes with a maximum speed of 6.9 mph averaging 2.9 mph.)The rod is supposed to be straight.
The trip must have been fun as I had to unbend both flipper rods on the foot drive when I got home. It seemed to have run OK and I wasn’t trying to jump the log gate either. The shallow side channels did grind me to a halt a few times as I looked for relics of the timber industry that used to be here but I’m not sure what I hit.
Next time maybe it will be less cabin shopping and more upriver paddling for an easy trip back. I’m not done with this river yet.
This is my third boat third trip that was not on the local lakes. The first trip on October 5 went upriver from South Bend (located at the top of the map). The second on October 12 went up to the Naselle River (located by the ‘d’ in Long Island). Today I launched from the town of Bay Center (located above at the red balloon).
A close up of the mouth of the Palix showing the route I took and a balloon over an alternative boat ramp.
My goal was to go inland towards what is marked as ‘Minks Ranch’ and/or around the bay south which is the mouth of the Palix River. I stuck some lines on the map where the trip eventually took me. With the wind coming from the east, there was a bunch of back and forthing but the wind died when I wanted to use it to go back to the dock. The red balloon on this map refers to a boat launch that works well to go up the river.
Unrestored boats at the port.
The boat launch and dock have houses looking over it and a working oyster processor which made me feel more secure about leaving the car alone. It also has a couple of non-working artistic boats pulled up on shore like we have in Ilwaco.
Bay Center port with the boat launch at the left and a busy oyster processing plant center.
Here’s a view of the dock and some of the fleet tied up. I could hear some workers shoveling oyster shells into bags and a couple of boats took off while I sorted things out. Anything not bagged up or not put under a hatch will get wet as I have discovered. I can put a jacket behind my seat as it gets warmer but it will be splashed on wet if I need it later.
Orange & green oyster baskets like we use for gardening.
Various sticks and floats mark oyster beds to avoid.
After paddling out to the bay there were sticks and floats to watch for while I sorted out my lines and snacks. I figured I ’d meet an oyster farmer in person if I mowed over any of their markers. When the tide was low on a previous trip I saw how shallow and sharp these beds are.
The Goose Point Oyster plant from Bay Center.
Pretty splashy but easier than paddling as I headed upwind.
Highway 101 just south of Goose Point.
A forklift operator is checking me out too.
Heading away after I discovered my mast would have hit the bridge.
Flashing blue lights and an oyster bed marker on left as I approach the Palix River entrance.
Heading south I found tall enough bridge for even me to clear.
Looking south under 101 at the entrance to the Palix River.
My goal was just to reach the concrete slab boat launch. I didn’t take a picture of the launch as it is about as dull as a…concrete slab. There is a blog that covers these ramps, local boating adventures and fishing advice and more. It’s at: http://www.leeroysramblings.com/boat_launch_observations.htm. For example, did you know that motorboats powering up onto a trailer can swirl the silt away at the bottom of the ramp? The next trailer (or truck) that backs itself off the end of the concrete slab will drop deep and be very difficult to pull out. Here’s a sample pic. LeeRoy explains the back story on his site.
Approaching the Palix River boat launch.
At the Dike Road intersection, I saw two cows without a field.
This was probably the most memorable event of the trip and it wasn’t really that exciting. I suppose that proves that I was prepared and nothing went wrong,. Not every excursion can be a hair-raising Youtube video.
A bored cow and its friend and not much room to play in.
A familiar farm to travelers on the highway to the beach.
A view of Bay Center about 2.4 miles away.
The wind has died, Bay Center is near the gap on the right. It’s 3 o’clock and I’m hoping to be back by 4.
The Mollusk heading for the port.
The telephoto gave me a blotchy picture of the crew checking me out.
Back to Bay Center at 3:30.
The Mollusk left to get more oysters after quickly unloading.
Its little feet churning the water as a shy bufflehead duck didn’t want its picture taken.
Several large flocks of Canadian geese (‘honkers’) flew overhead at a distance but there were few opportunities for wildlife pictures as I was mostly in the middle of a bay and after all, it is January.
A heron watching the Mollusk return again after I had pulled my boat out.
A good tide for late risers.
A final view of Willapa Bay from the Bay Center road on the way home.
This is my third boat third trip that was not on the local lakes. The first trip on October 5 went upriver from South Bend (located at the top of the map). The second on October 12 went up to the Naselle River (located by the ‘d’ in Long Island). Today I launched from the town of Bay Center (located above at the red balloon).
Southwest Washington Paddle Trips 