Timmy Wright resting against a giant cedar at Teal Slough on the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge beside the Naselle River.

1. Discover the Teal Slough grove

Early in the morning a wan March sun creeps over the Willapa Hills, illuminating the faces of the Wright brothers, Timmy and Robbie. Forty-some years ago, the boys performed a multitude of jobs for my wife, Laurie, and me — and for Tony and Ann Kischner — around the Shelburne Inn. There was — and is — no end to their support.

Today we are road hunting, cameras in hand. We creep around the sharp corners alongside the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge, a slow serpentine drive unraveling beside the Naselle River. Tendril-like, the murky-faced water shadows the south end of Willapa Bay. At the Naselle bridge, we fork to the right and drive down Parpala Road looking always for a photographic opportunity. Certainly, expectation drives most photographers, amateur and professional alike.

Pull Quote

Years ago, it was to be logged. But a dedicated author and outdoorsman named Rex Ziak — from a family of proud, third generation loggers — saved this stand of 1,000-year-old trees from the chainsaw.

In a meadow beside Ellsworth Creek, we find superb subject matter: a herd of elk munching on frosty grasses and sedges. Robbie’s camera looks like a modern-day bazooka. The large telephoto lens brings the elk practically into his lap. Soft rays of sunshine tangle with translucent light, the gift of a bluebird day on the edge of winter. The elk push together stealthily, lift their massive heads in protest, as an objection to our intrusion, and after a couple of minutes, meander casually back into the second growth forest.

Backtracking, we cross the Naselle bridge and travel down a country road (first on the left) in the general direction of Sunshine Point. As if on the run (another grazing animal), we devour a handful of dried nuts and tangerines and acknowledge that we are having a gob of fun. I murmur quietly, “Isn’t this the perfect adventure?” “Yes,” snaps Timmy. “Yes indeed,” always quick on the upbeat and his hearing is keen.

I shoot the landscape with my iPhone, while Robbie zeroes in on long-range waterfowl. Timmy insists on using his five senses and trundles along camera-less, content with the experience, a Be-Here-Now moment.

Later, I insist that we detour beside a 50-acre grove of western red-cedar just above Teal Slough 300 yards south of the Naselle bridge. In this radius of a couple of miles, we have encountered a cornucopia of photographic opportunities. If I may be so bold, let me encourage you to follow suit.

Years ago, it was to be logged. But a dedicated author and outdoorsman named Rex Ziak — from a family of proud, third generation loggers — saved this stand of 1,000-year-old trees from the chainsaw. Legend has it that Rex measured the circumference of the largest cedar, bought an airline ticket, and then burst into the New York office of a CEO who had already made the decision to cut the timber. Rex laid out the rope in a 35-foot circle and the rest is history. The grove is now part of a vast refuge, a gift from the federal government that lies within the fold of the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge, handled lovingly by its accomplished manager, Jackie Ferrier.

It’s difficult to wrap words around the significance of a single tree with the circumference of a small living room that rises above 200 feet in the salty perfumed air, a tree that predates the rise and fall of the Roman empire. I nickname it “Treebeard” and curl into its carcass (a natural depression) and reap the bouquet of a plethora of forest smells. A thick red-brown bark forms a rough hide and transports nutrition up the living sculpture. Fairy winds lift off the Naselle River while a covey of songbirds dart and flit through shadow and light under the thick viridian canopy. Compulsion overtakes me, and I draw my cell phone from my pocket and tap the keys which allow my voice to reach the ears of Rex and Keiko Ziak in their lovely hand-crafted home in Naselle.

“Thank you, Rex,” I say. “Thank you for saving this extraordinary grove for you and yours, and for their children.“ Rex is a gracious man, and I can imagine his smile as it curls across his handsome face, older now than years ago when we first met, boys, really. Could that have been in the Boy Scouts of America?

“You’re welcome, David.” A simple offering from one so bold.

As we talk, giant limbs sway high in the treetops, offering perhaps, humble gratitude to a man who courageously took a long-shot chance and saved this evergreen world.