Soda Springs Unit, Klickitat State Wildlife Area 04-08-17
Posted: April 10th, 2017, 6:26 pm
I spent a day fashioning a loop around the Klickitat State Wildlife Area before turkey season begins on April 15th. Before the gobbler shoot starts, Old Headquarters Road is gated, so I parked near there and walked down the road. This area has some of the most extensive oak forests In Washington, scurrying with gray squirrels and bounding with deer, but also there are wide open parklands on plateau lips and flowery slopes dropping steeply to the Klickitat 1,500 feet below.
I left the road and hiked towards the southern boundary fence, getting views across the high plateau to the Columbia Hills. Up here, there was a stiff, cold wind blowing with some shelter behind rock outcroppings. I dropped steeply down, using deer trails, to a bench above the river.
Then I followed an old farm track to the site of a homestead, dismantled in the 1950s or 60s, at a series of springs. There are a couple of wood shacks still standing here – a pumphouse and what may be a springhouse. The foundation of the homestead sprouts daffodils, and a couple of pieces of old farm equipment rust in the grass. Up a slope in the oaks is a large, open-sided shed.
I then struck out cross-country and was fortunate to pick up a narrow abandoned track that took me down into oak woods and a deeply incised creek, which I’ll call Homestead Creek. The track peters out on the other side of the creek, but it was a short distance up to the 4WD Soda Springs Road.
I hiked down the road across open slopes and into an extensive oak forest, carpeted with glacier lilies, descending to the bottomlands at the Klickitat River. There are no Soda Springs to see here: they are unreachable on the other side of the river alongside the abandoned Champion Haul Road. I touched base with the rushing Klickitat and then returned up the road to a spot with a clear view up a steep open slope.
I began my ascent on a slope that will be brilliant with blooming balsamroot in a couple of weeks, managing to find a deer trail that snaked its way vertically up the rise. Far below me, I noticed a red pickup inching its way down Soda Springs Road and into the oaks. It wasn’t going to get very far: the road is unmaintained and there were several trees down. I reached the plateau proper and kept out in the open, hiking along the edge of the woods to pass a curious contraption called a wildlife guzzler, which stores rainwater for thirsty critters in a partially covered tank. When I got to Homestead Creek’s deep valley, I followed deer trails into the oaks and across a meadow festooned with loose strands of barbed wire before descending to Soda Springs Road where a creek crosses it.
I walked a few yards up the road and then cut down to cross Homestead Creek before scrambling up a slope and across an open meadow adjacent to Old Headquarters Road. I veered away from the road through a grove of ponderosas and continued walking along the grassy lip of the plateau above the canyon. After passing my third carcass of the day and stirring up yet another skittish herd of deer (I must have seen 50 – 60 in total on the day), I turned in to Headquarters Road and walked back to the car.
Here's a rough sketch of where I went: about 11 miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain - red = road walking, light blue = cross-country. The place will be ablaze with wildflowers in a couple of weeks, but the turkey hunters will also be out in force (The season lasts until May 31st), and your rustlings through the oaks may attract unwelcome attention. Also, of course, the area is a mecca for deer hunters in the fall.
I left the road and hiked towards the southern boundary fence, getting views across the high plateau to the Columbia Hills. Up here, there was a stiff, cold wind blowing with some shelter behind rock outcroppings. I dropped steeply down, using deer trails, to a bench above the river.
Then I followed an old farm track to the site of a homestead, dismantled in the 1950s or 60s, at a series of springs. There are a couple of wood shacks still standing here – a pumphouse and what may be a springhouse. The foundation of the homestead sprouts daffodils, and a couple of pieces of old farm equipment rust in the grass. Up a slope in the oaks is a large, open-sided shed.
I then struck out cross-country and was fortunate to pick up a narrow abandoned track that took me down into oak woods and a deeply incised creek, which I’ll call Homestead Creek. The track peters out on the other side of the creek, but it was a short distance up to the 4WD Soda Springs Road.
I hiked down the road across open slopes and into an extensive oak forest, carpeted with glacier lilies, descending to the bottomlands at the Klickitat River. There are no Soda Springs to see here: they are unreachable on the other side of the river alongside the abandoned Champion Haul Road. I touched base with the rushing Klickitat and then returned up the road to a spot with a clear view up a steep open slope.
I began my ascent on a slope that will be brilliant with blooming balsamroot in a couple of weeks, managing to find a deer trail that snaked its way vertically up the rise. Far below me, I noticed a red pickup inching its way down Soda Springs Road and into the oaks. It wasn’t going to get very far: the road is unmaintained and there were several trees down. I reached the plateau proper and kept out in the open, hiking along the edge of the woods to pass a curious contraption called a wildlife guzzler, which stores rainwater for thirsty critters in a partially covered tank. When I got to Homestead Creek’s deep valley, I followed deer trails into the oaks and across a meadow festooned with loose strands of barbed wire before descending to Soda Springs Road where a creek crosses it.
I walked a few yards up the road and then cut down to cross Homestead Creek before scrambling up a slope and across an open meadow adjacent to Old Headquarters Road. I veered away from the road through a grove of ponderosas and continued walking along the grassy lip of the plateau above the canyon. After passing my third carcass of the day and stirring up yet another skittish herd of deer (I must have seen 50 – 60 in total on the day), I turned in to Headquarters Road and walked back to the car.
Here's a rough sketch of where I went: about 11 miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain - red = road walking, light blue = cross-country. The place will be ablaze with wildflowers in a couple of weeks, but the turkey hunters will also be out in force (The season lasts until May 31st), and your rustlings through the oaks may attract unwelcome attention. Also, of course, the area is a mecca for deer hunters in the fall.