Sightings at Clear Creek, Rhododendron Cove, Wahkeena, and Christmas Rocks

Between June 10th and 23rd, 2025, Joan and I visited four different parks and preserves with the goal of 1) checking them out, and 2) building up our hiking stamina!

 

On our first visit, Clear Creek Metro Park, we focused mainly on the Fern and Hemlock trails. (Click on any image to enlarge.)

A view of the Hemlock Trail, before it starts its big climb.

Various mushrooms and fungi ...

Click on any image to enlarge.

Best of all, a grey rat snake, holding still and hoping it looked like a stick.

Not far away, at the Rhododendron Cove State Nature Preserve, there were some early rhododendron blooms, but just a few on our June 12th visit. Here's a good one:

Further along, we saw two eastern American toads, of distinct sizes and coloration.

This one was quite young!

After descending from Rhododendron Cove, Joan and I drove to the nearby Wahkeena Nature Preserve (Fairfield County Parks). We enjoyed the one-mile loop walk, the ponds, and the exhibits in the visitor center; photographically, I caught this image of a blue dasher, one of the best photos I've taken recently.

While chatting with a staff member outside the visitor center, we caught a brief glimpse of what we believe was a river otter. Wahkeena isn't far from the Hocking River, so it's plausible. There was a green dragon outside the visitor center, a plant Joan had been hoping to see for years.

 

On the 16th, we returned to Clear Creek, but started at the far western side. The day was hot and humid, but at least the percentage chance of rain was low. The next photo is another American toad.

The same patch hosted a much smaller toad.

Here's a surprise an hour later on -- fire pinks!

A panoramic shot representative of one of the less steep parts of the Chestnut Ridge trail.

Five minutes later, a green adder's-mouth orchid! Too bad the focus was on the single leaf rather than the bloom ...

There are sometimes water trickles, rivulets, or minor creeks tucked into folds along the trail. Today we noticed one hosting many small "froglets,"

and a bigger sibling.

At the east end of the trail, Joan and I encountered a butterfly study group led by two Metro Park staff. Along that path there was a green-fringed orchid.

We continued to the intersection of the Fern and Hemlock trails and, with the heat and humidity sapping our strength, decided it was time to retrace our steps back ~3 miles to our starting point. About an hour into our return we noticed a blooming southern catalpa -- it's hard to miss --

native to the deep south of the United States, but now widely planted and naturalized well beyond its original range.

 

On June 20th, Joan and I visited Christmas Rocks State Nature Preserve. It was a hot and muggy day -- but according to the forecasts, the best day for at least a week!

To make this a more substantial hike, Joan and I did the loops in both directions, clockwise and counterclockwise. This had the salutary side-effect that plants and animals that weren't visible in one direction were detected on the other loop. And what did we see early on, but yet another American toad! Perhaps they enjoy the warm, humid air.

The view at the crest of the orange loop, called Jacob's Ladder, is minimized by greenery in summer,

but there are some landmarks to see with binoculars, and we watched a kettle of vultures begin to coalesce in the rising columns of air.

Next, a token on the side of the trail, which someone had obviously deliberately placed.

Then, another blue darter damselfly!

This midland painted turtle looks like it has algae on its shell, doesn't it? We found it well up the hillside.

Here's a view of a sandstone formation on the blue loop.

The "panorama" mode on my camera created some sun streaks.

And we encountered another damselfly, a female ebony jewelwing.

Then, our friend the rattlesnake plantain. Joan and I saw quite a few here.

Finally, although I don't have a photo, on our clockwise trek on the blue loop we encountered a kentucky warbler, who must have read a guidebook based on its behavior. Bug in mouth, it chittered at us from a bush adjacent to the trail, distracting us from the actual location of its nest.

 

It's been a great treat/workout exploring nearby Ohio Parks and Nature Preserves. Now if only the heat would let up.

Canada 2024: To Twin Falls and Back, a Long Journey

 On July 15th, 2024, Joan and I drove up the Yoho Valley road, including its notorious double switchbacks,

Click on any image to enlarge.

to park at the site of Takakkaw Falls,

Takakkaw Falls bottom right, Twin Falls top left.

and began our hike to Twin Falls and the now-shuttered Twin Falls Chalet, six miles one-way, not counting side trails. Takakkaw is extraordinarily popular,

and was already busy, but Joan and I managed to find a parking spot in the campground parking area. We brought extra water bottles along, given the prediction for hot weather. A fire ban had been declared because of breezy winds and dry conditions.

The first segment of the hike was a gentle grade on gravel and then packed dirt. There are many destinations, but only one way to begin. (Note: the distance to Yoho Glacier is now irrelevant, as it has melted back out of sight.)

As the woods crowded closer to the route, we encountered this yellow columbine.

We observed our first waterfall from a distance.

It was on the other side of the Yoho River, where the summer melt had created white-water conditions.

Joan and I did take the short spur to the Point Lace Falls;

water flows into the Yoho from the heights on all sides.

Continuing on, our next side trip was the Duchesnay Lake spur.

It had contracted a lot in the summer heat. Is it not receiving as much melt as before?

Naturally, we weren't the only ones on this popular trail. We briefly said hello to a cheerful group of Japanese tourists.

As the day progressed, the Yoho grew ever stronger. The glacial sediments remained suspended in the rushing middle, while at the sides they settled, turning the river edges turquoise(ish).

Just a few minutes later, we reached the campground below Laughing Falls, whose waters join the main stream.

Note the tents.

The Laughing Falls.

Laughing Falls

The crowds thinned beyond this landmark. Soon, a major intersection appeared. You can choose to ascend the west wall of Yoho Valley for various destinations, or continue north for Twin Falls.

 After further climbing, with the temperature rising, Joan and I needed the encouragement of seeing the Twin Falls in the distance.

Photo at full zoom.

The trail wound through a long sequence of ascending switchbacks and passed by a spur for the campground. Continuing on, we eventually saw the water from Twin Falls passing through a slit gorge.

After one more climb, the falls appeared.

How things looked downstream:

Joan and I also checked out the now-defunct chalet/teahouse,

Click on any image to enlarge.

sat on a bench, admired the falls, and followed the brief local loop around the site. This photo shows the chalet at its best, back in 2003, on our first trip here. Now, it is in considerably worse shape after various closures and reopenings; the Alpine Club of Canada surrendered its License of Occupation in January 2023.

Here is an interesting note from worldwaterfalldatabase, which confirms what we'd heard about the history of the falls:

  

When one channel of Twin Falls would get obstructed by debris flowing downstream and "turn off,"  workers would routinely be dispatched to the lip of the falls to remedy the situation with dynamite. In one such case, they actually succeeded in completely blocking the channel and temporarily turning the falls into a single plunge rather than a twin. The problem was, however, subsequently "fixed" and is no longer a concern today.

 

Given the heat and looming return hike, we decided not to tackle the climb to the top of the falls, let alone the whaleback trail that begins there -- the high point in the ridge is ~1300' higher up.

 

On the way back, around 3:00pm, at the intersection with the trail going up the west wall of the valley, Joan and I encountered a couple studying the sign. The husband immediately asked (I paraphrase from memory):

    "Which way do I go for the photos?"

It turned out that, having arrived in the mountains unprepared, this late arrival had sought advice from the visitors center in Field. Nonetheless, he couldn't name a specific destination or viewpoint, but still insisted on an answer in a New York minute. Given that, we couldn't help him.

 

The temperature continued to climb, and the last mile or two, out in the sun walking on gravel, were particularly wearing. Still, we continued past the campground parking, where we'd left our car, to get a view of the Takakkaw Falls in the afternoon light.

 

It was crowded. Flocks of people lined the walk towards the viewpoint. I couldn't take an afternoon photo of the falls from the viewpoint due to the constant mist, but before getting there, I took this one.

It had been a long day -- 13 miles total -- and returning on the flat, paved viewpoint path, I stumbled and fell. Got back up, embarrassed but uninjured.