As soon as warm water sprayed out of the shower nozzle, I couldn’t suppress a painful yelp.

Darn, my face and head hurt!

The streaming water only reinforced how torched my skin had become. Rather than warm to the touch, my brow, cheeks, chin and neck were fiery. A post-shower peek in the mirror confirmed my fears: This was no garden-variety sunburn.

A few hours earlier on a sunny spring Sunday two weeks ago, I had been snowshoeing at the 6,000-foot level on Washington’s Mount Rainier with two friends. Excepting a group of scrawny conifers here and there, we were hiking above tree level on wide-open snow fields. Possible avalanches, not sunburns, were what concerned us.

Although we traversed a wintry landscape, the temperature was warm enough that a couple of women cross-country skiers we encountered had stripped down to halter tops. While they slathered sunscreen on their arms and shoulders, we stopped to chat. I remained clothed head to toe, including my hands. But I was sweating profusely, and the sunscreen I had applied to my face was, apparently, washing away.

Three hours later, back at our vehicle, my friends remarked that I resembled a beet. I felt like a ripe red root vegetable boiling in water when I hopped in the shower.

That evening, I slept fitfully, seemingly just minutes at a stretch. In between, I tossed and turned uncomfortably, trying to avoid touching my pillow with anything except the back of my head, the only ouch-proof part of my upper anatomy.

The next morning, I avoided looking in the mirror until I began shaving – a painful ordeal. Like a modern-day leper, I shunned interaction with others, lest I would have to explain my predicament. During a Girl Scout assembly Monday evening, where I accompanied a 9-year-old friend, folks were too polite to stare or inquire about what had happened. But I knew what they were thinking: Doesn’t this guy know about sunscreen?

Turns out I was doubly at risk on the slopes of Mount Rainier, exposed to unrelenting sun in a highly reflective snow-covered area devoid of shade. Maybe I should have worn a mask.

What saved my fried skin was a cortisone-fortified cream that I applied liberally three times a day. Still, by Thursday, my forehead had mostly peeled away. At least the extreme redness had retreated. Now, I’m back to normal, although I probably look like I just returned from the tropics.

There’s a lesson here, of course. Direct sunlight can be harmful to one’s health. Even though exposing your skin to sea-level sunshine may be less hazardous than doing so at altitude, you still should apply an ample amount of sunscreen before you venture outside. And water, like snow, reflects sunlight. So, if you’re fishing from a boat, strolling the beach or Astoria’s riverfront walkway, your skin is at risk.

Allan Staley, owner of Astoria’s Owl Drug and a pharmacist who has been filling prescriptions since 1966, recommends a sunscreen with an SPF (sun protection factor) of at least 30 “Sun is bad for your skin. It can cause premature aging and skin cancers such as melanoma,” Staley says. He cautions people to stay out of the sun, especially between noon and 2 p.m. “Any sun is too much sun,” says Staley.

And too much sun is a lot less than you might think. After experiencing the excruciatingly painful process of losing a layer of dead skin from my forehead and other parts of my face, I never again will consider applying a thick coating of sunscreen an inconvenience.

Flying high in the harborThink you’ve been on the go lately? Compared to migrating shorebirds, you’re still a lightweight when it comes to traveling. These hale and hearty fowl are among the world’s most prodigious trekkers; many come to the Northwest from as far away as Argentina. And our region is only a stopover. The birds are en route to their Arctic breeding grounds where they’ll spend the summer. By the time they return home next fall, many fine-feathered individuals will have racked up more than 15,000 frequent-flier miles. And they make the trip annually.

Perhaps the largest concentration of shorebirds on the West Coast south of Alaska will be visible the last two weeks in April at Bowerman Basin, near Hoquiam, Wash., when 500,000 to 1 million birds gather in the muddy tide flats of the Grays Harbor estuary. Highlighting this mass migration is the Grays Harbor Shorebird Festival, now in its eight year.

Field trips, lectures, exhibits and a family oriented Shorebird Fun Fair are some of the attractions scheduled for April 25 to 27. You can hike trails and access viewing decks within the Grays Harbor National Wildlife Refuge at the end of Airport Way in Hoquiam. The best times to watch the birds are before and after high tide, which occurs between 9:30 and 11:30 a.m. during the last weekend in April. To request a free brochure or learn more information, phone Dianna Moore, one of the festival organizers, at 800-303-8498.

And unless it’s raining, make certain you apply an ample amount of sunscreen if you head north to view the birds.

Richard Fencsak is the co-owner of Bikes and Beyond. His column appears the second and fourth Thursday of each month.