It was running on fumes as I was pulling into the station. I quietly parked and stepped out of my truck, pulling my wallet out of my pocket as I did so. It was calm, sunny, and surprisingly warm as I shoved the gas nozzle into the fuel tube. I stood back and pondered on what I could do for the next several hours as I waited for my truck’s fuel tank to fill up. I had until sunset to do whatever I pleased, and as I mentioned, it was a gorgeous day. 

Nineteen gallons and fifty bucks later, I gently knocked the last few drops of gasoline off the fuel nozzle and into the tank, closed everything up, and pulled my Xterra forward into a parking space in the shadow of a dingy convenience store. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed some caffeine, and some junk food would be nice too. After picking up a can of diet coke and a bag of gummy bears, I headed west through the shaded woods, nodding my head to the beat of Ted Nugent’s song I Just Wanna Go Huntin’. 

While I wasn’t on a hunt in hopes of scoring game or wild-caught fish, I had still decided to go on a hunt. One during which I’d hopefully come across things I’d never seen before, expanding my knowledge and familiarity of the Puget Sound. 

The tide was its lowest of the day when I arrived at Tacoma Narrows beach, which meant I’d come across plenty of tide-pools hidden under rocks and stranded drift wood, harboring God-knows-what. To say I was excited would be a great understatement. I was more jacked up than a birthday kid at a candy store. Maybe some of that had to do with the caffeine, but the vast majority of my excitement came from my ever-growing love and passion for nature, the outdoors, and learning new things. 

Before I could skip down to the beach like a spring calf in a pasture, I knew it was a good idea to replace my cowboy boots with my pair of hiking boots. The wet, algae-blanketed rocks closest to the water were bound to be slick, and my cowboy boots has absolutely zero traction. They may be great for horseback riding, but there wasn’t a chance I’d have any fun down by the water if I was slipping and sliding everywhere I stepped. 

I lifted open the trunk door and sat inside on the hard plastic platform next to my hiking boots. I slipped off my cowboy boots, carefully placing them side-by-side, and pulled my hiking boots over my thick socks. I tied my boots as quickly as I could, gazing up every now and then to take in the sights and sounds of the Puget Sound. 

There was the constant noise of distant traffic on the Tacoma Narrows bridge to the northeast. Across the water, a mile-long freight train chugged down a century-old track, occasionally blowing its whistle. Gentle gusts of wind rustled the Grand Douglas Firs behind me. A cheery Goldfinch sang its song from a nearby branch, and a fluffy Robin joined in after landing in a patch of grass nearby. Just as I planted my feet on the asphalt and stood up, I heard the distinct, laughing cry of a bald eagle echoing from somewhere deep in the wilderness. The two other birds shut up immediately, probably scared of becoming the eagle’s lunch if they didn’t get quiet. 

Soon, I was charging down to the beach. There were people around me, enjoying the beautiful spring weather. But, I didn’t want to be around people, especially after spending the whole previous week around my family while my grandparents visited. My social battery was drained well into the negatives, and only nature could restore it. So, I trotted east, towards the bridge where I knew I could find all sorts of cool sealife in and out of the water underneath it, away from where most people go to hang out. 

Treading over large, wet rocks, I kept my eyes on the ground so I didn't accidentally step on something living (besides the stranded algae). Then, I noticed a rusted metal grate near where the water lapped up onto the beach. With my interest piqued, I quickly wandered over to it.

First, I tested to see if I could push it around with my foot. It was easily moved and weighed only a few pounds at most. Using my toe, I flipped it over, exposing numerous shore crabs of all different colors. Most of them immediately sought shelter under nearby rocks, but one of them stood its ground, snapping its tiny claws at my finger. Its claws were too small to pinch me, but I was still careful with the little guy. Shore crabs are extremely delicate due to their softer shells and small size. Knowing this, I didn't even touch it. After a little while longer, I moved the metal grate back where I found it, and continued on my way.