The Eagle Outdoors

Just some random thoughts

Almost weekly, I get feedback from y'all on the content of our Eagle Outdoors column. "That was nice," and "I wish you'd write about this." Once someone said, albeit politely, "How can anyone as dense as yourself find his way out of bed in the morning," finishing with the novel "Do you hide your own Easter eggs" comment. To be honest, Julie helps with the first part of that equation. As for the second, I've not thought of that; however, it might certainly increase the chances of me finding something if I did hide it myself. Referencing the latter, diplomacy, it is said, is the art of telling someone to go to Hell and having them ask directions, so there's that.

Where was I? Ah yes; comments. A week ago, a wonderful lady sent me an out-of-the-blue text. The pure, unadulterated happiness was obvious, even via Verizon. "It was a three eagle morning," she wrote. "They were soaring over the Columbia, going up the hill past Stella (when I was) coming home today. What a great place to live!!!"

She's right, you know. Even with the rain, the seasonal flooding, gorge winds, and the occasional Olympia strangeness, this is a great place to live. The same morning I got the nice lady's text, I sat and watched a belted kingfisher try and miss a couple of times and finally spear himself a squirming silvery breakfast. I also witnessed two adult eagles, a dozen or more immature drake buffleheads, Canada geese, and, as the sun rose over White's Island, 13 tundra swans passed overhead. Their haunting cries echoed off the firs from Tenasillahe Island south to the hills above the Julia Butler Hansen refuge. A great place indeed; but, it doesn't take much, if you just look and listen.

A friend passed away on Jan. 3, outside of Seattle. Scotty was an interesting sort; by all outward appearances homeless. He had an old Honda piled high with his worldly possessions and a tiny, rag-mop of a dog lying in the back window. A judgmental person would have discounted the old hippie and his dog. Perhaps, even gotten angry that he would have the audacity to park along the Columbia, right where I intended to fish. The nerve.

Scotty McGregor was one of those people who, looking back, I was extraordinarily fortunate to have known, albeit briefly. An avid steelhead fisherman, he and Macy (the rag-mop) travelled between digs in White Salmon and Hood Canal, where he walked the cobblestone shoreline casting for sea-run cutthroat. McGregor had two degrees; his ex-wife had a doctorate in something I've forgotten. His daughter, Sara, is an actress in Portland. Articulate, polite, and possessing wonderful taste in music. Reference "Otis Gibbs" on YouTube, if you're interested. McGregor reminded Julie and me on a regular basis that fishing wasn't about catching; it's about having been afforded the opportunity to fish. Macy, he assured me when I asked just prior to his passing, has a good loving home up on The Canal. It's strange, the people who leave a lasting impression on your world. Scotty McGregor was just 70.

SMELT!

There are smelt in the Columbia; or, at least, there were on the morning of Saturday, Jan. 17. On my way into Longview that morning, the waters between County Line Park and Mill Creek were plum full of the (dreaded) mammalian predators. On the return trip, that section of the mainstem from Nassa Point to the upstream end of White's Island was alive with gulls, bald eagles, and seals/sea lions; all taking advantage, I'm sure, of the 2026 pilot run of eulachon. The smelt/sturgeon/lamprey lead for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, Laura Heironimus, said, "We've seen a few smelt confirmed in the Columbia. Water temperatures are warm this year." Fingers crossed! As a reminder, buy a fishing license. It's a requirement now for smelt dipping.

Finally, what's a week without razor clams? Nine of us went to Ocean Park the afternoon of Sunday, Jan. 18, to enjoy the sunshine and partake in a round of shellfish collection. The weather, as most of you witnessed, was exceptional. The chili was tremendous and the razor clams were cooperative. The next round of digs will run from Thursday Jan. 29 (-0.4 @ 3:43 p.m.) through Wednesday Feb. 4 (0.1 @ 8:01 p.m.), with more dates on the horizon.