Hiking: This Land is Whose Land?
Today was our first snow of the year. Magical and mystical, Heart Lake transformed from a familiar green forest into a fairyland of white delights. (photo: Jack Hartt)

Hiking: This Land is Whose Land?

In 1977, DNR proposed to lease 450 acres of land that it owned around Heart Lake for a condominium development. It was near Anacortes, unused except by forests, fish, wildlife, and a few hikers and fisherfolks. The bow-tied Commissioner of Public Lands at the time, Bert Cole, said yes to the proposal.

But residents on Fidalgo Island were outraged, coming together to fight against the transfer. Bob Rose and Gerry Wallrath were two of the leaders of the fight, organized by the local conservation group Evergreen Islands.

They not only stopped the development but helped push through a Heart Lake preservation bill that created Heart Lake State Park. A year before I arrived, the park was transferred to the city of Anacortes to become part of the ACFL. Today the lands continue to be a mosaic of woodlands including gigantic old-growth, and home to over a hundred species of birds. People come here each day to hike, run, bike, bird-watch, or dog-walk; to fish, swim, or paddle the lake, and to become entranced by this wilderness in our backyard.

Related: Video of Bob Rose as he chats about the giant trees at the south end of Heart Lake. Click here.

Today was our first snow of the year. Magical and mystical, Heart Lake transformed from a familiar green forest into a fairyland of white delights. The lake waters were steely gray, reflecting clouds still cascading snowflakes on the waters, on the trees, and on me. The forest lay still under an inch-thick crystalline blanket.

Ringneck ducks convened a convoy swimming along the lakeshore. A serene swan couple swam just beyond the reeds, kissing gently as they passed each other, almost surreal in their graceful snow-white sweetness on this cold wintry day.

I followed Trail 210, which became a tracker’s paradise to follow individual shoeprints, dog prints, and occasional bird or squirrel prints in places. All was quiet, other than the gentle swishing of snowflakes falling on my shoulders, on the shoulders of the firs and cedars, on the bare shoulders of maples, and on the stiff shoulders of salal and sword fern. A woodpecker’s hammering echoed through the silence. A varied thrush sang quietly, answered by another afar off. A raven’s cry sounded forlorn from across the lake.

The trail twists and turns through the woods along the east, north, and west sides of the lake, leading to a cathedral of giants at the south end. That was my destination. I passed just one person as I crunched along the trail. At the wetlands at the southwest end, a chill wind blew onshore. A huge tree had snapped and fallen full across the trail. No creature stirred except a little Pac wren huddled deep in salal.

I ascended into the cathedral of old growth. I stood still. Time stood still. Very little snow reached the ground in this sanctuary. No sounds disturbed the holy silence. Where would the condominiums have stood? I said a prayer of thanks that these woods, that these living communities, that this lake and its shoreline remain as they have been for centuries.

As I returned the way I came, the dark gray sky lightened and brightened. The dark greens glistened greener in their new white coats. Some of the branches shook off their coats as if to say they were done with the snow, time to get back to gathering sunlight.

A lone cormorant stood on a snag in the lake to warm itself in the sun’s filtered glow. The swans were gone; the ringnecks continued their hunt for food.

The lake and forests had worked their magic. We all get to call this place home.

Directions

Trail Conditions: It varies day to day in weather like this! I found the inch of snow to be easy to hike on, but slippery roots were hidden below. And mud patches are found throughout, some with no option other than getting muddy. It's part of the winter experience, right?

Directions: From H Avenue in Anacortes, go south where it becomes Heart Lake Road to the parking area when you get to the lake. From Whidbey Island, take Highway 20 north from the Deception Pass Bridge, go four miles and turn left on Campbell Lake Road, then right onto Heart Lake Road in a couple miles. Heart Lake is a couple miles up this road.

By Bike: These roads mentioned above are narrow, winding and hilly. Highway 20 is also high speed.

Mobility: The trail is narrow, muddy in places, with many roots, rocks, and elevation changes.​