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What do Americans find Sacred? Bighorn Sheep, the Winds and Selenium

The Light in High Places. Wow, this is a great book by Joe Hutto.  I love the Wind River Mountains so I took this book from the library with that in mind.  But I was surprised how beautiful and poetic Huttos’ prose is.  Although a trained biologist, Hutto is a fantastic writer who expresses his feelings in a rhythm that is natural to Wyoming and close to the pace of the high country of the Winds.

Hutto teams up with John Mionczynski (who has been studying the Bighorn Sheep of Whiskey Mountain since the 70’s) to understand more fully why our native Sheep are in so much trouble.  Starting sometime in and around 2001, he spends his summers living high up on Middle Mountain, in a tent, above timberline at 12,000′, alone.  He sets up rainfall catches, watches ewes, lambs and rams all day, encounters bears, wolverines and a lone black wolf.  He comes to know, summer by summer, each sheep by sight, is accepted by them as almost another herbivore who can mingle among them, and fully describes what its like to live in this rarified environment day by day.

The middle of the book digresses and describes Hutto coming to Wyoming in the 70’s.  He lived on Red Canyon Ranch and worked cattle before the Nature Conservancy bought it; rode and hiked all over the area around Lander and the southern Winds; and tells some wonderful tales of iconic cowboys he knew.

Strangely enough, Hutto and Mionczynski’s findings about Bighorn Sheep were not what I supposed. Although the sheep are vulnerable to domestic sheep diseases, the difficult and puzzling downhill plight of the bighorn sheep is not so simple as exposure to domestics.  The Whiskey Mountain sheep herd do not come in contact with domestic sheep yet their numbers are shakey.  Why?  Many ungulates need Selenium to stay healthy.  Ewes that have experienced selenium deficiencies as lambs will tend toward early mortality, contributing fewer lambs to the herd.  Young lambs require relatively high doses of Se to avoid a form of nutritional muscular dystrophy.  The lamb’s body mines the bones in search of Se when there are deficiencies, causing the lamb to become weak, crippled, have a weakened immune system, and predisposing it to pneumonia and other diseases, as well as predators.

So, what is suddenly causing this lack of Se in these high pristine environments?  Hutto’s answer, from their research, is acid rain.  The rainfall is so acid all summer long, between 3.8 to 4.2 (normal should be on the side of slightly acidic side of neutral which is 7.0), that this in turn changes the soil chemistry which changes the uptake in minerals and nutrients in the surrounding vegetation.  In Hutto’s words:

“The term acid rain is a simplistic epithet that in reality involves not merely a good dosing of nitric or sulfuric acid, but also a veritable witch’s brew of accompanying chemistry including the entire spectrum of heavy metals resulting from fossil fuel and other industrial emissions.  Each time a drop of water falls, these mountains are being doused with a chemistry that includes not only acid in the form of nitrate and sulfur compounds, but could include mercury and other toxic elements that can continue migrating up the food chain.  It is the snow, rain, and glacial meltwater from these mountains that feed the Wind River in its entirety, and the Wind River in turn fills the Boysen Reservoir…”

Are they the 'canaries in the coal mine'?

Supporting their theory was the fact that when a long term drought came to the Winds in the mid-2000’s, the herd became healthier and produced more healthy lambs.  Less acid rainwater, more normal levels of selenium in the surrounding vegetation.  Yet drought also produces less available water in these high places.  A vicious cycle.

This book is science and beautiful prose, but mostly it’s Hutto’s expression of his love for Wyoming, its wildness, and the sheep.  You will not be overwhelmed by facts and figures, but his easy personal style will draw you in.

“Because of the oil and gas boom, formerly protected areas are being opened to new roads and drilling.  Most disturbing perhaps in our immediate vicinity is the opening of formerly inaccessible areas of the Red Desert by the Bureau of Land Management to new drilling operations in spite of the objections and desperate cries of the concerned residents of Wyoming.  The Red Desert is not only the highest desert in North America but a great fragile expanse characterized by a multitude of unique geological, ecological, paleontological, historical, and prehistorical features.  The greater Yellowstone ecosystem, the Wind River Mountains, and the Red Desert are the richest and most environmentally diverse expanse of wilderness left in the lower forty-eight states–the jewel in the crown of American environmental conservation.  Any large-scale industrial development in this remaining wonder of the natural world that contains meager petroleum reserves can only beg the question, What in fact do Americans find sacred.”

Hutto and Mionczynski’s preliminary findings are a warning to all Americans and especially to those of us who live, play and work here.  We live here because of this incredible Land that we love and its wildlife.  Just in my area, politicians are pushing the BLM to open the entire Big Horn Basin to oil and gas drilling.  Right now, we have a healthy Sheep herd in the Absaroka-Beartooth Front. Here’s another reason to rethink this kind of avaricious planning.

Jackson, the GYC annual meeting, and the room to roam

Soon the snows will be upon us but last week I was lucky enough to catch the fall colors in and around Jackson.  I attended the annual Greater Yellowstone Coalition meeting, always informative and fun.  I boarded the dog (no dogs allowed on Teton trails) and left a few days early.  The conference used to be a weekend affair, but the last few years has been reduced to just one full day and evening.

Ah, the Tetons end of sept.

Traveling through Yellowstone on Tuesday, the day was hot and all the wildlife, except a few bison, were well hidden and resting.  Gros Vente campground was one of the few still open, and even about 1/3 of that was closed.  Its puzzling that the two Parks choose to close so many campgrounds as early as September when the weather usually is fairly mild through even mid-October and the visitors are still packing the area.

My friend and I took a short evening walk around the campground and the nearby Gros Vente river. Especially at this time of year, moose abound and its easy to have a sighting let alone one or two running through the campground.  A large bull with a tremendous rack was stopping traffic just a mile down the road by the river.

Tucked among the rocks and willows was a curious scientific set-up:  a microphone with a recording box set up with a solar unit.  Not sure what study they were doing but it looked suspiciously like the ‘wolf howl’ machine I’ve seen in Sunlight.  But maybe they were studying coyotes around the campground, because that night, tucked in my tent around 11pm, I heard howling and response howling really close.  In fact so close, that pretty soon I heard sniffing around the outside of my tent. I figured a coyote was smelling Koda smells (who of course wasn’t there tonight but had been inside of that tent just a few weeks prior).  It was a strange and curious incident.

The next day I took a wonderful hike up to the mouth of Death Canyon from the parking lot of the newish Rockefeller compound.

Phelps Lake, Rockefeller Preserve

About ten years ago Rockefeller donated his home to the Park with the stipulation that only a small parking area be built which would limit the amount of hikers at any one time.  There is no overflow parking.  I’ve been up the one mile hike to where Phelps Lake and the former buildings were, but never past that.  The large and beautiful lake sits at the base of Death Canyon, a steep, massive drainage that is very inviting despite its name.

Looking into Death Canyon from Phelps Lake

We hiked around the lake, up to the canyon entrance, then headed north around the base of outcropping where a waterfall cascaded down.  Huckleberries overflowed and distracted us from the hike.  We ate our fill on the way in and out.  The aspens in this area hadn’t yet begun to change.

The next day I headed up to Taggart and Bradley Lakes.  Just a tiny bit north of Phelps Lake, all the plants including the aspens were aglow in their fall beauty.  I assume there are tiny micro-climates in these various canyons and that was why just a few miles north this area was ablaze in color while Phelps was not.  The hike is a nice 6 mile loop and I made it a bit longer by continuing up towards Amphitheater Lake. Several days later I approached Amphitheater Lake from Lupine Meadows trailhead, a trail more forested with conifers–Douglas and sub-alpine firs–than aspens.

Enjoying the Taggart Lake hike in 80 degree fall weather

The GYC meeting was full of information, focusing on climate change.  Without going into all the details and speakers, you can read the final report here on climate around our area and what’s happening after all the data is analyzed.  This data comes from actual weather stations set up around our area recording climate information for the last 100 years.  As is usual with climate change information, the future for the area looks troubling at best and makes the need for corridors north/south and east/west even more important.  In fact, the keynote speaker, Doug Chadwick, author of The Wolverine Way (which explores the research on Wolverines being done in Glacier National Park) called for just that kind of broader coalition between the Crown of the Continent and the Greater Yellowstone Area.  In order for these large predators to survive, they must have room to roam.  The future implores us to embrace new paradigms for the survival of so many species, from the Pika to Bighorn Sheep to Grizzly Bears and Wolverines.  We need to start thinking bigger, much bigger.  Room to roam is the very next step we need to embrace.  The Yellowstone to Yukon idea needs to mature from dream to reality in so short of time.

I Love the Winds!

Here are some photos from my 8 day backpack this summer to the Wind Rivers, my most favorite place in the world.  I’ve been there at least ten times or maybe more.  This time I went back to a place I was 10 years ago because I wanted my friend to see it–Island lake near Titcomb Basin, one of the premier places in the Winds.  The weather was fantastic, even somewhat balmy.  Our packs were each about 25 pounds. Koda carried his own freeze-dried food and some of ours.  I call him my Sheepeater dog.  That’s because the original peoples in these mountains, the Shoshone Sheepeaters, never had horses, but packed up their dogs with saddle packs, just like the one Koda carried, with all their supplies.  Here he is below after a dip in a lake by the trail, getting a brief break from his load (me too).

Photography Point on the trail to Island Lake. Continental Divide in the background

One of the hundreds of unnamed lakes. This one beautiful and inaccessible

Island Lake sits at 10,300′ with the rugged peaks of the Continental Divide as the backdrop curtain.  The full moon rose over the lake as the sun set to the west.  The moonlight, reflecting off the granite faces, basked the mountains in an eerie and beautiful light.  It was so bright you could easily hike without any additional artificial light. It’s impossible to describe the strange beauty of that night landscape.  That was the night I understood the craving mountaineers get for high places.

The wonder of the place is that it is as it was 10 years before and only because no human can live so high all year long, so it is preserved as part of the Bridger-Teton wilderness.  The next day we hiked into Titcomb Basin, a gorgeous aquamarine-blue lake at the base of the access to the highest peak in Wyoming–Gannett Peak.  We had passed many people on the trail that attempted the ascent, but few had made it.

Island lake

We rested at Upper Titcomb Lake.  A weasel came out from the rocks a few yards away and gave us a good show.

Interestingly enough, at both Island and Cook Lakes we were visited every night by Calliope Hummingbirds.  Each night she’d fly close and inspect us and every bit of our camp.

Hike into Titcomb Basin

Usually by the first or second week in August the mosquitos have abated.  But this year we were three weeks behind and the bugs were bad.  We’ve had almost 600% of normal snowfall this winter with a slow melt.  The campsite we chose below was on a knoll with an open area that caught the breeze. If you were in the trees, watch out–the bugs were prolific.  But a smokey fire, good 100% deet and a mosquito net got rid of the worst of them.

Campsite

The next day we hiked up to Indian Basin. Although I’d been to Titcomb before, I’d never been to the Indian basin and the pass.  Actually, its no longer an easy route to find.  At first we followed some cairns that led us up the wrong route, coming to an impassable area of the river.  We backtracked and realized we needed to cross down below, where huge boulders made for a treacherous cross.  We probably lost a few hours there.  But it was worth the effort.  Indian Basin is the starting point for those who want to climb Fremont Peak, a non-technical climb up a lot of talus.  The Basin is pure granite, the top of the world at the Continental Divide.

Indian Basin

Wow, breathtaking Indian Basin

We had inquired at the ranger station about Lester Pass.  Since the snow melt was so late, I wondered what the highest pass in the Winds might be like.  The pass was clear but on the downslope–boy what a snowfield we had to cross and it was steep.  I took my pack off, held onto it and my breath, and slide down on my butt.  What a ride!

Our destination for the second half of the trip and the loop was Cook Lakes.  I’d never been to this part of the Highline trail.  Cook Lakes are a beautiful set of lakes set in a cirque of above timberline peaks.

Lower Cook Lake

Upper Cook Lake

A pika entertained us while we hiked into the Lake area.  Fishing was excellent and helped supplement our bland backpack food.

The sad part of our journey was the proliferation of dying Whitebarks.  At the uppermost elevations of timber, the White Bark Pines were in better shape, with maybe only 20% dying or dead.  But as you got lower in elevation, even around 10,000′, over half of the trees were dead, most of these being the large, multi-trunked ones, probably hundreds of years old.  These trees are dying not just from blister rust, but the double whammy of rust, beetles and climate change.  White Bark Pines are considered a keystone species.  They will be extinct in just a matter of a few years in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem and are now already considered functionally extinct.  These are trees that can live 1000 years and humans have been able to alter their environment to such a degree that this has happened very suddenly in only the last 20 years.

The forest service office let us know that we must secure our food because grizzly and black bears are frequent visitors to the Winds now.  One outfitter told us that a Grizzly sow and her cubs had holed up all summer in the New Forks drainage.  Not a surprise since there was a fire there several years ago.  Grizzlies like burned areas.  But on the entire trip I didn’t see any bear sign except about 5 miles from the trailhead I spotted off trail an old bear scat from the spring.  Much ado about  nothing still. Yes, there are a few bears that are reaching the Winds, mostly in the Green Rivers area.  Bears that get into the southern areas come into conflict with sheep and are quickly moved.

Even though much of Bridger-Teton is Wilderness, sheep grazing allotments were grandfathered in on the southern half of the range.  Where we were this year there are no sheep, but last year I was north of Big Sandy where hundreds of sheep had just gone down to the lower country.  I had a bum water purifier and got giardia from those sheep.  To me, wilderness and sheep no longer are compatible.  There just have to be some areas we leave to wildlife.  Transporting bears out of wilderness in the few areas where they can make a living, for the sake of protecting sheep makes no sense in this age of diminishing land.  The sheep have private lands they can graze on, grizzlies don’t.

The hike from Cook Lakes back to Elkhart Park is a maze of creeks through the Pole Creek marsh.  The Fremont Trail hooks into this area and I never saw the connection.  We ran into scores of hikers, including one boy scout troupe, that were simply lost and disoriented.

Crossing Pole Creek

Lake on the Pole Creek trail. Hate carrying that backpack. See Koda's pack...

One of the jewels of the Winds that we discovered on our hike out was Mary’s Lake. We loved that little lake surrounded by a rocky shore.

Campsite at Marys lake

Mary's Lake

 

My friend above Elkhart Lake

All fun things must come to an end.  Here we are on the trail home.

Bear Search in the Centennials

Several weeks ago I joined a NRDC funded project in the Centennials under the leadership of Greg Treinish of Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation looking for sign of Grizzly Bears there.  If we found sufficient evidence for the great bear, then more protections would be put in place.

This was the 2nd of 3 ‘adventures’ Greg is conducting; the next and last one is in October. Greg gave us an introduction and short class in Grizzly vs. Black bear hair, where and how to look for tree and fence post rubbings, and use of a GPS.  We bagged any hair we found and took a GPS reading.  Most of the two days were walking along old fence line, looking for hair caught in the barbed wires.

The Centennials border the Red Rock Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, rising more than 9,000 feet above the Centennial valley wetlands.  The wetlands provide habitat for dozens of species of birds including the Trumpeter Swan.  On the second day, I walked across the valley along a road, watching for hair samples along the fenceline.  Harriers accompanied us most of the day.

Here is a nice short video David Gaillard of Defenders of Wildlife put together of our weekend.  Scroll down to the 9/22 entry entitled ‘Short Movie of Centennial Bear Study in September’

Grizzly videos from my driveway

A large (pregnant maybe?) grizzly has been visiting my chokecherry bushes nightly. Since I can’t post video, but I’ve got lots of 30 second clips from my trail camera, start here  at my Youtube site for a great shot of her shaking her butt on the way to the berry bush.  Then see my other clips of her from 2 nights ago.

Bears are now in hyperphagia or that stage of eating where they are gorging, trying to fatten up for winter hibernation.  This is the time to really be careful.  Its hunting season, and a bear on a gut pile is a very protective bear not to mess with.

Griz on chokecherries at 1 a.m.

 

 

 

Wolves, Scouts and a new beginning–The Wyoming Wolf Management Plan

I’ve been filling my ears with Jon Young’s ‘Advanced Bird Language’ CD’s.  If you don’t know Jon Young, he’s an expert tracker and naturalist.   On tape 7, something caught my attention that’s so pertinent to what’s about to occur in Wyoming.

Native Americans considered wolves their brothers.  Many tribes called their scouts ‘wolves’.  The wolf was the premier hunter and the Indians learned from them.  On this tape, Young goes into some specifics about wolves as the ultimate teachers and models for their scouts.  Indian scouts were special members of the tribe that fanned far out into the landscape to warn the tribe of dangers, or tell them of food sources or new areas to occupy.  Scouts were the most highly trained in the art of ‘invisibility’, moving unseen through the landscape.  They needed to be able to cover great distances in a short amount of time, be fully aware of their surroundings, and bring back the needed information as well as do all this traveling very lightly.

Sunlight Pack black wolf

Here, paraphrasing Jon Young’s words, is his explanation for why wolves were the ultimate teachers for these individuals:

“Wolves move in a highly efficient manner.  They move with such stealth and perfection that their tracks are like poetry of perfection.  They place their feet in such a proper manner, even at high speeds.  They are masters of energy conservation even while moving.”

Two wolves side trot down the road

“Wolves are highly intelligence.  They can watch someone perform a task, like undo a latch, just once, and unlike a dog that must be trained, they can go over and undo that latch with their nose.  To observe, to see the pattern, to recognize it, and then to do it themselves–that’s intelligence.”

“Cougars and Bears master invisibility by moving very slow, by traveling in dark and shadowy places, but wolves don’t have that luxury.  Wolves might cover 25 miles in one night so they are practicing invisibility while also covering huge distances.  This is something that scouts really looked to as a role model.  So the scout had to be like the wolf also.  They had to run long distances in silence,  pull the information and bring it back.”

Wolf eating fish it caught in the Lamar

“Scouts, like wolves, needed to recognize things not just with tunnel vision but out of the corner of their eye, with their peripheral vision and be able to instantly respond.”

“Wolves are crepuscular, which means they travel at the edge of night–at dusk and at dawn.  Wolves are the masters of illusion and can stay just on the edges; so the scout modeled that ability to stay on the edge of sight.”

“Wolves have incredible hearing.  They are following sound even in their sleep. Wolves are the ultimate power in Awareness.  Their eyesight, their hearing, their sense of smell, all their senses combine to create enormous instinctive ability.”

I have known that Indian scouts were called ‘wolves’, but this is the best point-by-point explanation of ‘why’ that I’ve ever encountered.

Why is this so pertinent this week?  Because this Friday, Sept. 9 at 5 pm, all comments will be due, in writing only, on the Proposed Wolf Management Plan in Wyoming, in other words, the plan that will determine the future fate of wolves in this state regarding hunting, quotas, designated status (Predator and/or Trophy Game), etc.

Whether you are for or against hunting wolves, whether you live in Wyoming (Idaho, or Montana where the hunts are already taking place) or in a big city, consider these traditional notions and views I have laid out above about wolves.

Sunlight wolf

Once, in this great Country of ours, wolves were our teachers, friends, with attributes to aspire to.  This is Our Story, the story that goes with Our Ancestral Lands of North America. The stories from the Old World that we were told in our youths, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ stories, the stories that created and fed on our present day fears, these were only partial tales, partial teaching stories. These were the stories told to young children so they wouldn’t venture into the woods alone.  All cultures had those stories.  But in every culture as the children grew to adolescence, they were told different stories, richer, fuller stories with more complexities for their more complex growing brains.  These were the stories that called young people to embrace role models.  The bear that was once scary for the young child, is now a great hunter.  And the wolf that might devour you, the little kid, walking in the forest (not having listened to your parents) is now a story told with more nuance, more richness, so you will aspire to model that wolf and become a great scout.

In this important moment, when wolves will finally be fully delisted in Wyoming, as well as Idaho and Montana, we need the full story, the story that enriches and dignifies this majestic predator that has always belonged back in our landscape.

Hike into the bowels of the Clark’s Fork Canyon

We are going to hike into that canyon in the photo below.  From this photo you can see the mighty Clark’s Fork of the Yellowstone, the only wild and scenic river in Wyoming, un-runnable.

To the left you can make out Sunlight falls, where Sunlight creek meets the great river.  What you can’t see is that just in front of the falls is Dead Indian creek running into the river as well, almost at the same spot but not as a falls.

Some day I’m going to take a raft down to the river and paddle upstream to that meeting place, but the Clark’s Fork needs to be slow and low.

There are a few trails down there from above, most fairly treacherous or extremely steep.  The best runs near Dead Indian Creek from the road.  There used to be signage with the mileage but someone took that down.  Its four miles to the river, but its the last 3/4 mile that’s straight down.

ANother shot of the canyon.  See the little person to the middle right

Its an all day slog, and take water because there is none until you reach the canyon.  Even though it wasn’t incredibly hot, the dog was panting heavily and needed the extra water I took for him.

That’s because its a fairly exposed hike.  And plan to go in mid-August when the river is slower, take a lunch and chill…

Looking downriver

Looking upriver

Chillin’

The hike out is not welcome after the great rest at the river.  Another alternative is to shuttle, leave a car at the mouth near Clark and hike down from the Sunlight Road.  Someday I plan to hike an inflatable raft down there and spend a few days exploring upriver.

Windy Mountain

The hike to Windy is not long, but an uphill climb.  You can drive the 4 wheel dirt road to a parking area, which cuts out a few miles.  But for some reason I hadn’t yet hiked to the top…either there was still snow, or it was too hot, or the bears were using it in the fall.  There’s still White Bark Pines that are living up there and its bear area when the nuts are ripe.

But finally after 5 years I made the trek.  The view is a great 360 and that’s why there used to be a fire lookout there.

Foundations of old lookout tower

The Beartooths still had snow on them.

Beartooths

The most wonderful highlight of this hike, aside from the views, is the old outhouse.  Try imagining going to the bathroom here!  I wouldn’t even get close, though for the ranger there was no clean-up!

Outhouse on cliff edge!

 

Another view

An old crude telephone line still had the poles standing.  Its really quite a ‘hump’ to the top so I can imagine the pack horses carrying all this stuff up there, including the concrete.  Probably built by the CCC I would guess (when just about all the country infrastructure was built).  A surveyor’s marker from the 30’s said ‘Do not remove or there’s a $500 fine’.  That’s a lot of money then.

Old telephone line poles

Telephone line into the distance

 

Although the map shows a clear trail leading north into another drainage called Reef Creek,  the trail was not visible on the way up.  I’ve been trying to find that route from the Reef Creek side so I kept my eyes open.  There was no clear trail, but by bushwhacking a bit, we found the link and several hundred feet away a trail opened up.  I’ll be hiking that this fall!

Yellowstone adventures and a close call

I came back a few weeks ago from an advanced tracking class with Jim Halfpenny in Gardiner.  But before the class, I spent a day and an evening hiking around the Park.

Tuesday late afternoon called for a trek up Mt. Washburn, which I’d never done.  They say if you only have time for one hike, Mt. Washburn is your ticket.  Its a great view for sure of the Yellowstone volcano, but what’s more impressive is that during the ice age only 30,000 years ago, Mt. Washburn was the only land not covered with glaciers from there to the Tetons.  The hike is not far but a good uphill and the alpine wildflowers were impressive.  A group descending came bye and told me to watch for a grizzly they’d seen near the summit.

View from Mt. Washburn of the Yellowstone caldera

Polemonium

Pedicularis

Gentian close-up

At the top, a ranger is stationed and there’s a free telescope for viewing (Wow, something actually free!).

Wednesday morning after camping at Mammoth, I headed up past the Golden Gate looking for a nice dayhike.  I thought I’d do Solfatara Creek.  I parked at the isolated trailhead.  Not my favorite kind of trail presented itself.  An ’88 burn area, the trail was thick on both sides with young lodgepoles so tight you can’t move nor see ahead.  Essentially, these kinds of trails are like tunnels and I don’t like them because if you come upon a bear there’s no where to go.

I decided to try the trail and see if it opened up.  If it didn’t, I’d find another to hike.  Sure enough, after about 700 yards, the trail opened to meadow and an unburned forest.  As I approached the hot springs of Solfatara Creek, the trail showed lots of fresh bear sign.  The creek was a beautiful and unusual greenish-blue, warm, slow water, but the mosquitos were thick.  Between the bugs and the bear scat, which was thickening in tune with the mosquitos, I decided that since I was hiking alone I’d prefer to find another trail, one more open and less buggy.

I retraced my steps and when I got to the meadows, I noticed a troop of rangers off trail looking like they were doing some kind of vegetation studies.  I figured they must have come through the ‘tunnel’ that was approaching, so maybe they’d scared off any bears.  But just in case, as I always do when I can’t see well in front of me, I took my bear spray out of its holster, uncapped it, and held it in my right hand as I came through the trees.

About halfway through the forest, I came around a corner almost directly into a lone bison bull rubbing its horns on a sapling.  I watched for a moment while debating where to go to get out of its way.  He was coming my direction and I was headed towards him.  If I went backwards from whence I came, I’d be stuck in the narrow thicket of trees on the trail in his way.  I couldn’t slip pass him. Beside me was a teeny, tiny clearing of about 5′ square.  I moved as far as I could into the clearing.  He began to trot on the trail past me, but just at the last second he changed his mind and decided to charge me.  At only about 6′ away, he lowered his head; his horns now directly facing my chest.  Instinctively, I sprayed him with the bear spray I’d luckily been carrying unhinged and uncapped.

Immediately he made a right turn and trotted off down the trail, swinging his head side to side since his eyes were stinging.  I left the trail, totally beefed up on adrenaline and thanking my lucky stars that it wasn’t my day to die.  Bison scar me way more than bears as I feel they are much more unpredictable, way more dangerous, and definitely not as smart.  This guy didn’t seem threatened by me.  For him, it was more like I was challenging him, offering him a chance to have a sparing match. An old lone bull like him is a cranky old man.

Lone bison but not my bison

Grizzly lake, my destination after Solfaterre

On the way back to Mammoth, I got stuck in a bear jam.  Two black bears were feeding on one side of the road and decided to cross over.  What amazed me wasn’t the bears, but that people got out of their cars and ran as fast as they could towards the bears, getting as close as they dared to take photos.  Luckily these bears were used to people, but not all bears in the park are that amenable.

Guy in the white T shirt on left is almost right on the bear

In this one you can see the bear and the lady in front not even paying attention!

Halfpenny always leads a fabulous class, highly recommended.  The mornings were spent in the classroom and the tracking museum.  He has a fantastic collection of plaster casts and other assorted items to help you to learn to track.  The afternoons were spent in the field.  Here is a track of a badger of which I made a cast.  The upper left hand corner contains a coyote track as a bonus.

Badger track (coyote track upper left). Notice long claws

Young bull moose

The Chipping Sparrow

Several days ago I went to a little spot near my house and sat underneath a Douglas Fir.  It was a random choice, but in a few minutes I noticed a tiny nest on a low branch.  As I watched, mom and dad Chipping Sparrow were taking turns feeding three very tiny newborns.  I’ve been going there everyday for the past four days, sitting under the tree for about an hour, watching those good parents bring in food.

Mom feeding babies first days

Those babies are always hungry and their parents seem haggard.  I’ve gone at random times of the day, and the parents spend their whole time catching food and bringing it in.

Close up of hungry baby, almost hairless

Newborn sparrow

How much they they’ve grown in such a short time!  On the first day they were ugly little half-bald things, and now they look like almost grown chipping sparrows (without the typical coloration yet).

Chick

Four days later, how much he's grown

 

Besides these sparrows, I’ve been watching a robin sitting everyday on her nest in the corners of my home and a bluebird mom in one of my boxes.  It makes me think:  human mothers that are neglectful or unfit should be made to spend a few seasons watching, everyday for hours in the spring, these birds and how they care for their young.  They are good and tireless parents and perfect models.