HiveComb

Monday was a grey day in Hoquiam, Wash.

It was dry though, so in the afternoon a took a photographic ramble around the Hoquiam River Loop, a roughly milelong sidewalk and blacktop path that runs along the river between the Simpson Avenue and Riverside bridges.

It turned out to be a rather eventful journey, though in the beginning I had only planned on getting maybe a few shots that I could share for Snaps, not a full-length post. I started out on the northeast side of the river, and right away noticed the reflections on the water, made in spite of the overcast sky.

I used Simpson Avenue Bridge as a frame for the Puget Sound and Pacific Railroad swing bridge near the mouth of the river, where it empties into the Grays Harbor bay.

I had to leave the river briefly to get to the end of Simpson Avenue Bridge, which extends a couple blocks beyond the river on both sides. In the alley beside the bridge, I kept with the opening theme.

That coil of barbwire runs atop the chain link fence at Doug's Small Engine Repair, around the yard where they store boats. I'm sure I've never photographed Doug's before, but decided to grab a shot when I started up the bridge, since their sign is reflected in the puddle above.

The ocean-themed mural to the right of the door is a characteristic feature of many businesses in Hoquiam.

By sheer happenstance, I reached the middle of the bridge right when a couple of tugboats were guiding a ship from the Port of Grays Harbor terminal in the narrow end of the bay toward the Pacific Ocean (about 12 miles away). There was too much traffic on the bridge to cross to the other side, climbed up on the girders and again used the bridge as a frame.

Surprisingly, the tugboats peeled away from the ship and headed upriver to their home dock near downtown. Often they take the ships all the way out. But the tide was in: apparently the water was deep enough that the ship didn't need strict guidance along the dredged channel in the bay.

It took me a minute to realize the opportunity this afforded me. The tugs were going to pass directly beneath my position in the center of the bridge, giving me a spectacular bird's-eye view.

The Lulapin came first.

When the Rowdy came through, I switched to video. At the very beginning you can hear the smooth diesel engine of the tug, but then it gets covered by the traffic roaring across the bridge's steel grate. At the end, you'll notice how much I was bouncing around when the big trucks passed over the bridge: they really shake it up.

The photos I took of the Rowdy came out a bit dark, but in the top left of this one you can see the Lulapin making its turn to line up and dock in front of the small Mary Rose Brusco (already docked).

After that excitement I thought I was pretty much done. I wandered off the bridge and then under it to get what I thought would be a closing shot, of Beacon Hill tumbling down to the river.

But we weren't done. The river was active that day. When I reached Levee Street Boat Launch (with the aluminum pier you can see in the Rowdy photo above), the siren on Riverside Bridge went off, indicating that they were raising the road to allow a vessel to pass.

After the photo of Beacon Hill, I had switched from the 18-55mm lens to my 75-300mm, thinking I might run across some wildlife to photograph for this post too. Standing out on the pier, I could barely fit a full view of the bridge in frame at 75mm.

The Ruby Girl needed the Riverside span fully raised to fit those antenna through.

As I said, a rather eventful photowalk – full of right-place-right-time opportunities. They don't raise Riverside Bridge even as often as once a week, and I rarely have the camera with me when they do. The tugboats go out to the bay maybe two or three times every week, but I don't think I've ever been standing on Simpson Avenue Bridge when they pass.

And, I did end up with one wildlife shot for the post. This goose was standing guard on the bank as I was leaving the pier at the boat launch.

I've noticed a couple of geese standing post like that along the river lately, not giving ground even though I'm walking just a few feet away, which likely means the female is incubating a nest not too far away.

There will be gosling photo opportunities before long.