Q’emiln Park

There might be moose.

North Idaho News posted these photos and cautioned hikers and climbers to be wary. “How is this not an invitation?” I thought. To me, it falls under the “don’t publicize wildlife sightings so as not to draw a crowd.” However, Q’emiln Park (pronounced “Ka-mee-lin.” I wish I’d known before now that the order of letters isn’t so important; I could’ve excelled at typing) has been on my shortlist, and I haven’t made it there yet. This is as good a reason as any to go there.The sky is an imposing grey. On the way here, I drove from blue skies through heavy rain and back into the blue. That’s typical for spring in North Idaho. I’ve got rain gear in my pack. Upon arrival, I chose the three-mile Upper Falls loop starting from a more secluded parking lot 400 feet above the Spokane River.The wide trail starts on hard-packed gravel. I pass some fresh moose sign before veering off onto a single track, the entrance marked by a pile of moose scat. I’m on high alert,  alone, looking for moose but also yearning for owls, porcupines, and mushrooms.

The boulders are neon chartreuse with fresh spring moss. We had our (hopefully) last snow a few days ago. We’ll spring forward to daylight savings time in two days, and later this week, highs will be in the 60s. Spring is here.

This wilder-feeling narrow footpath between craggy boulders over rocky ground spills out onto a one-lane asphalt road. The pavement winds downhill past private property flanked by the park. I stop and wait for the wind to sweep back through again to spin the blades of this rusty, old windmill.

While I wait, I look down where I’m standing. At my feet is a cluster of old, weathered deer hair clumps. This is the work of a mountain lion quite some time ago. Still, I look up and scan the surrounding forest. Cougars don’t like hair in their food, so they will deftly pluck a kill, shearing the hair with their scissor-like molars before dining. It’s a signature sign.

Moving on, I turn right and am relieved to rejoin the narrow earthen path. A fast-running seep oozes out of a rock cropping and winds through a ribbon of lush green grass on its way to the Spokane River below. I am in a gorge of sorts.

A mossy boulder wall rises thirty feet above me on the right, and this seep runs out of the rock on the left. I scan intently for bobcats or mountain lions, knowing that unless they move – a flick of the ear, a turn of the head, a wag of the tail – I could look right at them and not see them. Masters of stealth!

A few paces further, I stand on the shore of the churning, turbulent Spokane River. The water seems to swirl in all directions at once, creating circular pools upon circular pools. No wonder people need to be rescued from these waters.I stopped to watch a group of buffleheads and goldeneyes fishing. They were diving and paddling as the river swept them past me. As they approached the river bend, they took to the air, flying upriver to ride through this fishing hole again and again. This gave me ample opportunity to practice photographing birds in flight!

I love how this house is nestled in the trees and seems to have grown right out of the rock. There’s an enviable serenity to it, even if it overlooks a park that will teem with activity once the warm weather is here to stay.I linger along this section of the trail that parallels the river. This is the topography that draws me to the Rocky Mountains – rough rocky outcrops accentuated with pines and the deep turquoise of a clear mountain river. There is no more beautiful landscape.

The moose took this trail, too, and took a shortcut at this bend in the path. The large cloven hoof prints with dewclaws in the soft mud are tell-tale. A loud rustle in the brush startles me. It’s probably a squirrel; squirrels are the noisiest animals in the forest, but I don’t see any movement.

A junco flies across in front of me. I hear the sound of warblers unseen. A small waterfall tumbles into the river, and the trail turns inland, curving uphill. Bright yellow buttercups are in bloom—the first flowers of spring.

The trail snakes back up to the parking lot over sections of hard-packed gravel, then soft, deep mud, and finally, a spring waterfall. The floodplain along the creek is full of willows. A shy spotted towhee flits through the thicket they create. It’s a very moosey habitat.

Two hours and three miles later, I’m back at the parking lot. No moose today, but a stunning landscape, the brightness of spring green carpeting the ground, entertaining waterfowl, and the endless promise of a new experience are all reasons to call it a good wander.

If you’re interested in purchasing or licensing any images you see here, please email me at SNewenham at exploringnaturephotos.com, and I’ll make it happen.

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