barbed wire and mud

I got to go out in the field on Monday!

We went up to the Chimacum area to do some spawn surveys along 5 different reaches of tributaries that run into Chimacum Creek. We were looking for dead coho, live coho, and coho redds {where they lay the eggs}.

The first two reaches were along one tributary referred to as Barnhouse. We {Steve and I} met with 3 volunteers to get them familiar with the reaches since they'll be continuing the surveys through the rest of the season.

The lower reach was through pasture land... we saw lots of black bear scat {the bear's diet seems to be comprised of apples, apples, and more apples} and chunks of fur caught on barbed wire.

See the hair? {Sorry, no photo of the scat.}

At the downstream point of the survey we were able to go through a gate to get into the area of the stream that was contained in barbed wire fencing. Unfortunately, there wasn't a gate on the upstream portion of that stretch. Instead of wasting time and back-tracking to the gate, we decided to climb the barbed wire fence instead. {Brilliant, yes?} I watched the four guys use four different methods of scaling the fence... and then I picked the best of the four to use myself. Thankfully I managed to get up and over without hurting myself too terribly {only one little puncture on my palm from the barbs} and I didn't fall on my face. I was pretty proud of myself.

I used a post like this one to climb over the fence, stepping on either side of it like a ladder.

A pan on a post... I don't get it.

I thought this was neat looking.

And I liked the look of the birch trees.

And these nightshade berries screamed "fall" to me.

Then it was time for the upper portion of Barnhouse, which was on the other side of the highway in a forested area.

And there was mud. Lots of mud.

I was doing pretty well for about the first two thirds of the reach... until we got to some super sticky, sinking mud. The four guys went ahead of me so I could see that it was deep and thick. I forged ahead, figuring I would be able to get through it just fine as I had in the other muddy areas we tromped through.

Then my right foot wouldn't come back up. I pulled and pulled and tried to position my left foot on more solid ground to get some leverage. Then my left foot was stuck, too. I tried leaning backwards and forwards, and all around in an attempt to move the mud away... but the mud had suctioned my boots and they wouldn't budge.

So I did they only thing I could: I abandoned my boots. Thankfully they are a bit big for me so they came off pretty easily, but my socks had also come off and were bunched at my toes in my waders. I took off my gloves {they were Steve's and too big} and then proceeded to dig my boots out of the mud. By this point the guys realized that I wasn't following them anymore and started calling my name. I was reluctant to admit my situation... but it was the right thing to do.

By the time Steve got to me I had recovered both of my boots and I was covered in mud nearly head to toe and trying to figure out how I was going to get to a somewhat solid area to get my boots back on... or if I should just start crawling to the creek bed and make my way back to the road... bootless.

Steve found a "solid" place at the base of a near-by tree where I sat, scraped off as much of the mud from my waders and in my boots, and then forced my feet and bunched socks back into the boots. {Not comfortable.} By the time we finished that reach and the next, my sock-less ankle rubbing on the inside of the waders + boot created a ginormous blister.

Thankfully I was able to readjust my sock situation before we did the last two reaches. It was a good thing, too, because the last two reaches {both on Naylors Creek} were through a wooded area with lots of brush that we had to fight through... it was quite exhausting. {It was a bit easier, though, because the volunteers were with us just for the Barnhouse reaches, so there were only two of us fighting the brush instead of five.}

There were so many neat mushrooms! I wish I had the time to take photos of all of them... but we were out there for fish, not fungi.

It got pretty dark in the woods so I kept looking up to reassure myself that it was still daylight.

This was a cedar that had fallen across the creek. It was about this point where I began to be thankful for my childhood experiences of playing in root balls and downed trees. It's nature's jungle gym!

It was a long, exhausting day... but fun! I could have easily gone right to bed once I got home, but I forced myself to eat and the drowsed through a couple of movies before I let myself collapse into bed. {The exhaustion was probably partly to do with my almost-not-quite-sickliness.}

Oh, and we saw three live fish on the Yarr reach as well as two redds. Very cool.