Country raccoon

I'm used to seeing these guys in town. Either this is a young raccoon, or the forest version isn't as plump as their city kin.

I first thought that an old forest next to the ocean shore would be rich with food for such a scavenger. But maybe it doesn't measure up to the contents of dumpsters and compost bins in town.

Raccoons can live as long as 16 years in the wild. Most don't make it past their second year, when they become independent of their mother. 

After that, raccoons are solitary animals. They are also nocturnal, though this one had some business keeping it up during the day.

I love their hands. Little primate-style hands on a rodent (I read that they are more closely related to panda bears than anything, but still).  

Shore excursion

Port Alberni is situated up a long inlet from Barkley Sound and the Pacific Ocean on the west coast of Vancouver Island. It's easy to forget about the ocean here, what with the mountains and big trees.

I took a hike to one of the places that allows me to visit the sea on a trail created by an old Canadian Pacific Railway line.

I glimpsed a sea lion that breathed so loudly, I first thought it was a whale. Didn't get a pic of its enormous back folding under the water.

Others, like this little song sparrow, came out from under the beach litter to investigate me. 

And I found little scenes in old iron that intrigued me.

Swimming hole

For being on an island in the Pacific, the Alberni Valley is blessed with many fine freshwater swimming spots.


Here's my latest favourite. Regular dips have been a necessity lately as the temperatures have been over 35 celsius for more than a week.


This little spot is on Sproat Lake, a 3,800 hectare deep, clean body of water about 10km from town.


It's one of a group of lakes on this part of Vancouver Island that offer a change from the saltwater beaches.

Sproat Lake is home to my kayak, the Martin Mars waterbombers and at least one osprey that I've seen.

On osprey time

This is not an osprey. It is a dragonfly. Despite being smaller and faster than an osprey, it is easier to photograph. I took this photo last time I was at the pond looking for the osprey. The big bird made an appearance, did a fly-by, sat in a tree (out of sight) then flew off toward Alberni Inlet.

I'm seeing osprey everywhere, but not finding the time to sit in one place and watch them.

I've seen one at Sproat Lake, but that lake is so big I wouldn't attempt to find a nest there. I've seen my friend up at the ponds intermittently. Watched her fly from the east (nest?) and soar down to the west, in the direction of the Inlet (fishing?).

She's probably the best bet to spend time watching. A friend has loaned me a portable blind, so now it's a matter of dedicating a day to osprey. That shouldn't be too hard.

Yesterday I was photographing motocross, yep that's the kind of thing I do, and a mark in the sky caught my attention.

Sure enough, crooked wings and all, a good sized osprey glided over the dusty, noisy track. My lens swung skyward practically involuntarily.

And I thought 'Hmmm, is that the one I see at the ponds?' The distance, as the osprey flies (in this case), isn't great. Or is the osprey population really taking off in this part of the world as I have suspected for several years?

Hard to say. It would be nice if there were some money out there for me to quit my day job and find out. 

Chance encounter

Today on my favourite trail network I met a bear.

Not the  bear in the picture. That bear was in a tree in the middle of town when I took its picture last summer.

No, today's bear was right on the path near the ponds, moving slowly, turning logs and scraping the earth.

After rounding a corner I saw it not too far off and stopped short. The bear turned and looked at me then went back to what it was doing.

I was out for a run and had a goal in mind. I wasn't going to let a medium sized American black bear change my plans.

I said hello, put my arms over my head and asked it to let me by. It moved a bit, so I followed, thinking it would go off into the bushes.

Nope. I made some more noise. It moved some more. I kept moving forward as it did. I made a last call and it turned and gave me a warning charge.

I turned and ran, heart pounding. Laughing at myself. What a fool I can be sometimes.

Fact is, the bear outweighed me by a fair bit and it didn't take long to assess the situation and decide to stand its ground.

Still unwilling to give up my plan, I backtracked to make the loop in the other direction, well aware that if we had the same kind of meeting I'd be taking the long way home.

I ran cautiously, making lots of noise, and didn't see the bear again. I really love to see them, but if the bear hangs out there it will definitely reduce the appeal of running those trails with all the blind corners.

Other views of the Valley

Besides the idyllic views, there's also still an industrial waterfront in Port Alberni.

While the paper mill has cleaned up its act a lot over the years, it still dominates the waterway in the central part of town with smoke stacks (discharging only steam, I'm told) visible from everywhere.

While it may have cleaner discharge, the once grand operation still gulps water through big pipes and has left a fibre mat on the ocean bottom that smothers life trying to reclaim the once toxic estuary. Meanwhile the company may be on its last legs and no one seems certain of what level of environmental clean up they are responsible for.

Views of the Alberni Valley

It may be grey and foggy now but these photos remind me that I live in a really nice place and that can be just as true on a grey day as a sunny one.