Free Range Photography

Every winter I like to take Monument Road west out of Rio Dell and go up onto Bear River Ridge where a well-maintained county road rolls over beautiful open country for about 12 miles until it T’s at the Mattole Road. A left here takes you on a windy descent to Capetown, where the mouth of the Bear River flows into the Pacific. (A right takes you down into the small town of Ferndale.)

Winter is the best time to see visiting raptors like the Ferruginous Hawk and the Rough-legged Hawk, as well as year round resident Red-tailed Hawks and American Kestrels. There is an unspoiled atmosphere about this landscape. You feel like you’re on top of the world, the wild steep canyon of the Bear River on the left, and the broad Eel River valley on the right.

Upper Bear River Road branches off to the south skirting an open ridge as it loses altitude. A friend and I recently found out that the road is public past where we had previously thought it turned into private property, so we had ourselves a little adventure of discovering where this road would take us.

Our first raptor sighting was of a Ferruginous Hawk, perched on a small snag in the canyon to the right of the road. It was a cold morning and I imagined the bird was waiting for the air to get a bit warmer before beginning its day of hunting.

After pausing to admire this biggest of all North American buteos, we continued along. Another mile or so down the road we spotted a beautiful male Northern Harrier, cruising over the broad canyon on the other side of the road. This graceful bird was being buffeted around in the gusty wind, long tail and wings twisting and flexing in a struggle to stay aloft.

Next we saw a Peregrine Falcon. This bird’s flight style was more like a knife in the air compared to the Harrier’s more buoyant floaty swooping. Stiff pointy wings carried this impossibly fast bird right over our heads and away, giving us a great look at its underside.

We passed by the spot where we have always turned around in the past, and soon realized we were rapidly losing altitude. The road dipped and hair pinned until we arrived at the valley floor, where the sweet little river tumbled along, winding its way to the Pacific, about 5 miles farther downstream near the settlement of Capetown.

No longer in soaring raptor territory, quite a few other birds were around in this riparian habitat. Robins were abundant, and there were enough woody areas to hold Varied and Hermit Thrushes.

Signs of human habitation were few, as up on the ridge. What looked like old but well taken care of homesteads dotted the riverside and it was easy to imagine living here, unplugged from hustle bustle, a soundscape of wind and rushing water replacing traffic and electronic hum.

The road ended at someone’s front gate. Just about a quarter mile from the Mattole Road where it passes through Capetown we wondered if at one time you drive those few hundred yards, and I bet the locals could walk it if they wanted to. The tribes who lived here before white settlement, Mattole, Wiyot and Bear River people, probably made their way from ocean to the inviting wide green riverside flats upstream as they went about their business.

We turned around and headed back up to the main Bear River Ridge Road, feeling like we’d stumbled onto a rare and precious jewel of a Humboldt full of such gems. We continued our survey of the ridge road, spotting a number of other birds, including several Red-tails, a few more Kestrels, and more.