A type of shelf fungus on a log along the Clackamas River

      As is true throughout the world, insects are, by far, the most common form of wildlife in our area. Apart from admiring butterflies, however, most hikers think of insects only when they are forced to swat bothersome mosquitoes. Higher on the food chain are spiders. The thick vegetation and the abundance of insects for prey ensure that spiders are quite common. The most important result of this fact is that the first person to hike a trail in the morning must negotiate an obstacle course of webs. You will spend considerable time (and a lifetime’s vocabulary of swear words) wiping the webs off your face, hair, and clothing. My advice is to wave a walking stick in front of you or, better yet, convince your hiking partner to take the lead. Another good option is to hike in the winter, when spiders are less active and build fewer webs.

      After insects, our most common and conspicuous form of wildlife is birds. The feathered menagerie includes a wide range of colors, sizes, and forms. Tiny rufous hummingbirds zip past looking for flowers to visit, while various species of chickadees, wrens, warblers, and sparrows, among others, fill the forests with song. Easily the most common bird in the mountains is the dark-eyed junco, formerly called the Oregon junco and still termed that by the average proud Oregonian. During the winter months, these happy, clicking birds with black heads come down to the valleys and are among the most common residents at backyard feeding stations.

      Great blue herons are probably the most conspicuous large birds in the Portland area. Every Portlander is familiar with this, the city’s official bird. These tall and delicately beautiful avians are often seen flying overhead, prowling for food along streams or beside ponds, or just standing around in dry fields hunting for mice. Other large birds of note include Canada geese and various species of ducks, which spend their winters in the mild climate of the Willamette Valley; ospreys and bald eagles, which can often be seen on larger lakes and rivers; and red-tailed hawks, easily our most abundant flying predators.

      The Pacific Northwest is home to eight salamander species, one of the highest such concentrations in the world. Our wet forests host some fascinating and beautiful species, including the long-toed salamander, the tiny Oregon ensatina, and the aptly named Pacific giant salamander, which actually barks. Due to their secretive nature, however, you will rarely see any salamanders. The sole exception to this rule is the roughskin newt, an interesting and abundant representative of the group that can be found in almost any pond, lake, or slow-moving stream. A fact unknown to even most experienced outdoor lovers is that the roughskin newt is poisonous. Their skin emits a toxin that, if ingested, can be deadly. Fortunately, the poison cannot penetrate your skin. But be sure to wash your hands after handling a newt.

      Other amphibians also take well to this damp environment. You will encounter several species of frogs, the most common of which are the Pacific treefrog, the western toad, and the red-legged frog. Sadly, frog populations have been declining in recent years. This is a worldwide problem, the reasons for which are not well understood. In our area, probably the leading cause of this decline is the unfortunate introduction, and population explosion, of the bullfrog. This nonnative predator feeds on smaller frogs, as well as baby turtles, birds, and other unfortunate victims.

      In this wet climate, reptiles are less common than amphibians. Lizards, for example, are fairly common east of the Cascades, but they are very rare in the area covered by this book. You are likely to see them only on the drier slopes on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge. Snakes are much more common. In and around Portland there is no need to worry about rattlesnakes, except in the eastern Columbia River Gorge. What you will encounter throughout this area are various species of harmless garter snakes and racers.

      No list of area wildlife would be complete without mentioning one of the most famous, and strangely popular, residents of the Pacific Northwest—the lowly banana slug. Mollusks aren’t generally the most beloved of organisms and, even here in the slug capital of the world, area gardeners have been in a long-standing war with the creatures (usually a losing battle, or so my gardening friends lament). One of the most memorable encounters you will have on a rainy day in the woods is with the banana slug. The first tell-tale sign is the famous slime trail crossing your path. Follow this sticky slime and you will soon come across the source, a surprisingly colorful, and almost frighteningly large, slug. The banana slug comes in an array of colors, mostly greenish-yellow with black spots, and can be up to 10 inches long (the average is about 6 or 7 inches). Many Northwest residents have a strong affection for the slug, which people from other parts of the country find to be evidence that all the rain up here has made Portlanders a bit addled. One town in western Washington holds an annual slug festival, and it is even possible to purchase various souvenir items featuring the banana slug.

Welcome to the Pacific “Northwet”: The Local Weather

      Anyone who lives in this part of the world knows that there’s no getting around rain. For eight or so months of the year it rains a lot in Portland. But there is much more to the climate story than just precipitation. Each season has its own weather-related quirks, and all the hills, canyons, river valleys, and mountains in our area help to create numerous microclimates. Once you master these local weather idiosyncrasies, you’ll stay drier and have more fun in the outdoors.

      Summer in the Pacific Northwest is just about ideal. From mid-July until early October rain is unusual, despite all those stories we tell out-of-staters in an effort to keep them out. This is not to say that we never get clouds in the summer months. In fact, morning clouds are quite common. One of the best times to go hiking is when clouds cover the Willamette Valley. A large percentage of summer days in our region begins with a layer of marine air, which pushes in from the Pacific Ocean carrying low clouds with it. What far too many hikers in Portland and Vancouver fail to realize is that once you climb above about 2000 feet, you leave the clouds and fog behind and enjoy brilliant sunshine. A great aesthetic advantage of hiking in such weather is that you can climb to a viewpoint and look down on the billowy white fog covering the valleys with its delicate fingers that creep through low passes in the ridges. The fog also hides most of the clear-cuts and helps to ensure greater solitude because outdoor lovers in the socked-in Portland/Vancouver lowlands look out their windows, see the low clouds, and wrongly assume that it’s too gloomy to go hiking.

      Despite being farther north than Minneapolis, Portland’s proximity to the Pacific Ocean keeps the winter weather relatively mild. It may rain a lot, but severe winter weather is rare. Generally we get only two or three days of snow per year, and even that usually melts away in a day or two. The mountains, of course, get lots of snow, and with several feet piling up every winter, it takes many months for all that white stuff to melt away. Precisely when trails open for travel varies from year to year, but a pretty good rule of thumb is that trails below 1000 feet remain open all year. At 2000 feet, trails begin to open by mid-March. With every 1000 feet of elevation, it takes an additional month for the snow to melt. Thus, by mid-April the snow line will be around 3000 feet; by mid-May it’s 4000 feet, and that number becomes 5000 feet by mid-June. The highest trails open some time in July. Sunnier south-facing slopes melt out sooner than north-facing ones. Although true everywhere in the country, it is probably less pronounced here than elsewhere because the heavy tree cover keeps the snow well shaded, even on south-facing slopes.

      Don’t let yourself and your hiking boots go into hibernation just because it’s winter.