Chief Tsiltcoos Trail and Pacific Ocean

- 11 April 2004 -

Easter isn't Easter without making oneself a sacrifice to the Mosquito Bunny™! That's why Miss Kick and I donned our hiking clothes and headed out for the Oregon coast on this lovely Sunday. 

Some plants with pretty leaves, which are conveniently located near the commencement of the Chief Tsiltcoos Trail, which is conveniently located inside the Siltcoos Recreation Area (its proud motto: "Look, Ma, No Primary T").

Tree, path, and foliage. 

(Question: What is, "What do Eugene parents name their children?")

Inside each bowl of Tree Trunk Cereal®, there's a twiggy, leafy surprise! Be the first on your block to collect all 36!

Yoda is behind the fifth branch from the right. 

This was my burly self before my encounter with the Mosquito Bunny™.

(Now they call me Natty Bumppo.)


not so spooooooooky

*miiiiiiildly* spoooooooky

On the left, we've got the Macrauchenia Pine (Ttseudopincus macrauchenii), with its standard 2/8 striated bark and its range from 50°N on south toward Big Sur country of California. The leaves of the plant in the foreground are the common variegated foliage of Colonel Putt's Snidewort (Horodexia malapropa). It is said that among the Tttututututaswishiân people of the central coast, Horodexia malapropa was used to treat severe cases of stuttering. And, finally, over on the far right, there are the small stipply rudendous hexennial supplications of the common uxoria plant (Gromyilkevis uxoriensis uxoriensis).

Or not.


(And this time, I'm not fibbing.)

I was surprised to see rhododendrons recently at the Dallas Arboretum -- in Texas! I always thought of them as an Oregon thing, but, according to the signs at the Dallas Arboretum, apparently there are rhody species all over the world. 


If any of this pine sap fell on a nearby mosquito, people might be able to re-create a Yansa in A.D. 50,000,000. :b 

I took the road less traveled by, and that made all the difference. (The difference was primarily in the form of mosquito-life, which intensified dramatically.)  

Scenery. (Note the yellow scotchbroom flowers.) 

Ooh, tangly. 


Scotchbroom and the sometimes-grayness of the still forest. 


There is oceanic substance in this picture, but it takes some findin'.  

And now, we segue to the beach with this sign.


DOGS O.K. (and we all know that O.K. stands for "oll korrect")

Why no dogs? Because of the snowy plover, that's why! The snowy plover ("Smoove S.P.", as its peeps call it) is one of those birds that's having a tough time of it lately, so the government keeps folks from intruding on its nesting sites from March through September. 

It is also thought that the protections afforded to this cute little birdie are partially due to the popularity of these songs:

  • "Boombastic" ("Hey there Mr. Plover Plover... Mr. Plover Plover... you know they call me boombastic, Mr. Chirptastic, touch me on the beak you say I'm Mr. Rooooo--", etc., etc.); 

  • "Can't Get Enough Of Your Plove, Babe"

  • "Plove Me Tender"

  • The country hit "It's Just What I Do When I Cain't Get No Plovin"

The beach.

The beach, otra vez.


(No snowy plovers, as far as I could tell. I hear that they're only in this neck of the woods at this time of the year if they're inhabiting an eggshell, though.) 

"Do Not Enter: Hot Plover Sexin' Ahead"

And they forgot to mention the part about how the snowy plover is 74 feet long and wider than a school bus, and it can fly from Thailand to North America in 12 minutes flat, and its battle-screech shakes the earth for 5 miles around, and it likes to chomp on the limbs of anything that disturbs its young.

You know. The little details.

Sedimentary strata! 

A picture taken from the top of the grassy dune at Siltcoos. Facing southeastward.

Same thing, but facing northeastward. 

Text written on 11 April 2004.
Last updated 20 January 2006.

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