Langus Riverfront Trail

Yesterday, after my dog fell off a dock into the Snohomish River and quickly taught herself how to swim, we took a lovely hike on the Langus Riverfront Trail. Winding our way through wetlands and river country, the four of us felt like we were far removed from the noisy bustle of urban life, though the chaos of I-5 and the busy streets of Everett streamed all around our peaceful oasis. 

And as I prepare to share our adventures with you, I have to be honest. While there are some interesting sights to be seen along the way, this is basically a bunch of pictures of my dog enjoying a good time in the wilderness. 

So if photos of furry red dogs on the hunt are your thing, today is your lucky day.

^ Langus Riverfront Trail winds south along the Snohomish River. Urban industrial scenery discreetly hides behind the low landscape, and a wide paved path unfolds along the water. On this cool afternoon in May, conditions are perfect for an adventure. 

^ Spring grasses are tall enough for Gracie to bury herself up to her shoulders in luxuriant green. Just imagine how fresh and invigorating the scent of new growth must be to her super-powered nose. 

^ Pale yellow flowers against the grey waters. Delicate and clean. 

^ Here's an angle that shows how close the trail lies to the calm, reflective waters. Here is also another photo of my dog with her head buried in grass. 

^ Bald eagle sitting on top of a tower watching us walk by. He was not impressed. 

^ On this Thursday afternoon, my two younger daughters and I pass a total of four people - two individuals and one couple. To say we have the place to ourselves is no stretch. 

^ "But are you still back there? Please don't leave me."

^ Gracie totally grasps the concept of sidewalks and applies her suburban street knowledge to hiking paths. She definitely understands about staying in her lane. But every now and then, she can't resist the urge to do a bit of four-wheeling and I love to see her romping through the long grass. 

^ "Stand back, people. I'm working here."

"Yep, I think my nose has covered every inch of this ground."

^ "I'm ready to move on. Are you?"

^ After a mile or so, our trail bids farewell to the main body of the Snohomish River and turns abruptly north to follow a smaller branch of the river. The last few traces of civilization disappear and our magical mystery tour moves deeper into the realm of wilderness. 

^ Does she not look like a little red shaggy bear cub? We think so. And we discuss this matter at least ten times a day. 

^ Verdant plants line the wetlands along the trail, filling the foreground with leafy mounds of green. Gracie would love to wade in but with respect to the wildlife, we agree that she should stay out. 

^ As we work our way north along the mainland, Spencer Island sits invitingly just across the water. At some point, we will find a bridge, cross over, and hike the trail on the island. Besides being beautiful, the island is a sanctuary for wild birds.

^ We come around a bend in the trail, and BAM, there's the bridge we've been looking for, suddenly right in front of us. But Gracie is sidetracked in the brush one more time, and we are patient with her. 

^ Finally! Spencer Island, here we come.

^ The view from the bridge. We have been hiking on the right side of the water, and we are now ready to tackle the island on the left. 

^ But alas. Dogs are not welcome on the main island trail. So Gracie and I wait here while my daughters do a brief exploration, and when they come back, we all tackle the short, dog-friendly trail spur. 

^ Even on the dogs-allowed trail, spring hikers are cautioned to keep their pets from disturbing the nesting birds. Lucky for us, our bird dog is naturally inclined to slip quietly through the green, testing each footstep and indicating with her posture if any birds are near. I can read her like a book, and I'll have plenty of advance warning to steer her away from any nests. 

^We all stand stock still to take in the majesty of this blue heron. We first discover it sitting on a downed log in this marsh, and then suddenly, its wings opened to startling breadth and with slow, purposeful, powerful strokes, it lifted off into the sky. 

^ The trail is becoming more narrow and the clouds of pesky gnats and piswinks flying into our faces are becoming quite annoying. 

^ Rugosa rose. Okay, I'm less annoyed now.

^ Now we reach the end of the dog-friendly trail, and signs ask us to turn around and take our tail-wagging friends back toward civilization. Fair enough. Enjoy your solitude, wild birds. Thank you, Langus Riverfront Trail.

^ And so we head back, my third-born and me, with Gracie - as always - leading the way.