Spring Comes to Southwest Washington

      It being the season, this week Sandra and I went butterfly watching three times.  The first excursion was to Dougan Falls.  Our daughter, Leslie, was kind enough to join us for the 45 minute drive up the Washougal.  We stopped to purchase a pass at the Washougal River Mercantile, only to find out that the state, in its wisdom, has eliminated the Merc, along with numerous other locations, as a place where a Discover Pass might be purchased.  

The Green Angelwing nee Comma, May 2026

   On we went, scofflaws to the core, stopping at our favorite locations and nabbing a total of nine species.  Compared to really good butterfly watchers, this isn't a remarkable total.  However, it may be a record for us.  The highlight was a Green Comma that Sandra nabbed at our first stop. You will note that our picture, which you see here, is only the lateral.  Through wanton stupidity, I let the beast escape while hoping for an al fresco  dorsal shot. So you let a butterfly wake up outside and seem surprised when it flies away.  Astonishing!  Anyway, Cait verified that it was a Green Anglewing.

    At our second stop, our beloved Weedy Car park on the banks of the Washougal, we were greeted with the welcoming aroma of woodsmoke.  The smell of burning wood is one of those remarkable atavistic pleasures, like feeding your dog at the table.  Homo sapiens has been enjoying these sensations for a very long time. (in fact, Homo erectus controlled fire over a million years ago.  By comparison, we've only been feeding our dogs scraps for 20,000 years.)   All that anthropology aside, in this day and age it's hard to imagine that one would run across a smoldering fire.  To quote that great bayou philosopher, Pogo the Possum, "What are you wearing for brains?  Yesterday's socks?"   

   We sacrificed one of our water bottles and polished it off with what the Big Lebowski would refer to as a micturation, and left the world a safer place.  While we weren't preventing forest fires, we caught a few butterflies.  We got Leslie to pose with the author along with a netted Pale Swallowtail. We also netted a worn out Echo  Azure and a tiny Mylitta Crescent.  Far from unusual butterflies, but new to this year's list.

     We finished off the day at our favorite spot on Dougan Creek.  Before we departed, Leslie and I took a walk up the road and met a nice lady in her SUV.  There is nothing like an old goat and a pretty young lady, both carrying butterfly nets, to excite curiosity.  We had a pleasant chat, talked about host plants and were pleased to inform our new friend that we had indeed captured a few butterflies.  She wondered if it wasn't too early for butterflies and I replied that, far from it, the butterfly season was well underway.  As you will see, I could have said that for the lowlands of Southwest Washington, it was already too late. 

    A few days later, Sandra and I made the trek up the Klickitat.  We got as far up as Wahkiahio, where we had had very good luck the previous year.  Wahkiahio is such a thriving metropolis that it is easy to miss, so we went a few miles past our turn off before Sandra convinced the driver to consult the Google map.  Soon enough we were back down to Pull Out Road.  Here, things were much drier than we had expected.  There were lots of Tiger Swallowtails and we were pleased to renew our acquaintance with the Ochre Ringlet.  

Lepidopterist Leslie and the Old Goat

    There was one bright orange butterfly which I captured briefly in the binoculars.  Butterflies are complex, frequently defying my ability to identify them under the best of circumstances.  We saw this orange critter two more times.  The last was on a rock wall with seeping water.  I approached him cautiously, got the net poised, and made my swipe.  The seep, aside from attracting butterflies, had watered some blackberry vines and as the butterfly entered the net, the net was snagged by a blackberry thorn.  Out flew the mystery butterfly.  Shazbatt!  

   Suffice it to say, I was unable with my ever too vague description, to coax a guess out of Ms. LaBarr.  In honor of this event, I present you with this bit of doggerel.  We went for the kill at Wahkiachio, but ended up at the business end of a Priapus. Do you remember Dianne Weist looking at plates in The Birdcage?  "I think they're playing leapfrog."    It was sort of like that.

    We had one more chance to redeem ourselves...FishOn Road.  this obscure turnout ten miles up from Hwy 14 and ten miles down from Wahkiachio, is Cait's secret spot.  Two years ago, I saw my first Indra Swallowtails there.  And we have seen other goodies.

    On the fifteen-minute walk from the car to the famous sand bank, we saw lots of Tiger Swallowtails, a number of Lorquin's Admirals, and too many Ocher Ringlets.  They invariably look like they might be something special and we waste a lot of time taking pictures of them.

The Klickitat Puddle Party

    Finally, we made it to the sandbar and, as we hoped, there was a puddle party in progress.  As a final treat I present you with our best picture which should include a butter yellow Tiger Swallowtail, numerous elegant Pale Swallowtails, some drab Pascivius Duskywings, and a few Echo Azures.  

    Imagine, if you will, an Ochre Ringlet on a nearby bush saying. "If you don't take my picture, I won't let you go home."  What an annoying butterfly!

jeff

PS  After we sent her our pictures and field notes, Cait notified us that she had just received a message from her senior author, Bob Pyle.  He had just visited the area described above and said it was all dried out and not worth a visit.  She advised us to look at higher altitudes.  So.  Stay tuned.  jh