Sand Verbena (Abronia maritima), growing in the sandy flats of Anza Borrego.

©Bert Gildart:  Another title I considered for this posting was “Rainy Day Details — From Anza Borrego Desert State Park”. The point, of course, is that all the rain of these past few months is creating a profusion of wildflowers not seen every year.

And now the rains of the past few days have added their artistic touch. Still, the desert is alive, and more alive, I believe, than I have seen it in a long time. Even Clark Dry Lake held rain this spring and those of you who follow this blog will recall the resulting water produced a hatch of fairy shrimp — making me wonder again: Is this really the desert?

But it is the desert and the rain has complemented the carpets of flowers by softening the light and by adding interesting patterns of moisture. In some cases, the moisture acts like a magnifying glass, accentuating details. Look, for instance, at the droplets that have come to lodge in the intersection of the lupine leaves.

What a spectacle we’re being treated to!

Flowers, then, are the headlines in this park and are appearing in many places and in many forms. Drive along the Henderson Canyon Road from Pegleg toward the DiGorgio Road and within half a mile you’ll see vast fields of sand verbena. Mixed into these fields are various other flowers to include the beautiful primrose with its delicate white flowers. As well, there is creosote, desert lily, chicory, desert dandelion, phacelia, brittle brush, and the brown-eyed evening primrose, among others.

AND NOW APPEARING…

One of the most abundant little flowers is the lupine, which has been blooming for the past few weeks. To see it here at Pegleg Campground, all we’ve had to do was step out of our trailer and walk a few feet. Unlike other species, it does not appear to be as site specific as does the sand verbena and the various species of cacti.

Cacti, incidentally, are also blooming, and one excellent place to see them is along the Cactus Loop Walk, adjacent to Tamarisk Campground, reached by driving over Yaqui Pass. The trail head is near the entrance to the campground.

Dune Evening Primrose; lupine, sand verbena

Over the weeks I’ve used a variety of techniques to photograph these plants, ranging from strobe lights to natural light. Strobe lights are the only choice when winds are blowing, as they arrest the motion. Strobes, however, were not necessary the other day, which was a calm one, enabling me to shoot at shutter speeds of ¼ a second or even less. For comparison, I’m including an image of the fish-hook cactus, which was taken with two strobes.

Fish-hook cactus (Mamilaria diocica) as seen along Cactus Loop Trail, Anaza Borrego

This is a small cacti and the image is almost 1/1, meaning its actual size is about equal to the image that appears in the camera’s view finder.

NATURAL LIGHT

Other than the image of the fish hook cacti I used natural light, an acceptable choice as pervading clouds reduced harsh shadows, though I sometimes used a small reflector to add detail in dark areas. As always when photographing such tiny subjects, I used a tripod, essential when the elements must be arranged exactly to create a pleasing composition. A tripod is also essential when using a macro lens as any movement at all is accentuated. Movement results from the slow shutter speeds you must use to stop down your aperture for increase depth of field, so that you can record all those desert details in the multitude of flowers now rearing their heads.

In fact, this year there are so many of them, and they are so abundant that once again I have to wonder: Is this REALLY the desert?

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Star Photography in Organ Pipe

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Young ram threading its way through cactus forest.

©Bert Gildart: The drama was high pitched, almost as exciting as watching two rams collide during mating season. But this contest was between a huge barrel cactus and a single ram, and if you’ve ever examined the sword-like thorns on the species, you’d understand the challenge.

According to Eric Hansen (a photographer friend I’ve mentioned often), who documented the entire episode, the ram trotted over to the barrel cactus, and then showing complete indifference to the species’s enormous thorns, it bashed the plant with the curve of its horns, partially splitting it in two.

Though Eric (also with us last year  in Death Valley) later saw thorns embedded in the lips and horns of the ram, the young ram seemed indifferent. These guys are tough, or the rewards are too great to bypass. Perhaps the later, for the ram continued its battle with the plant, slashing down with one of its sharp hooves to expose the center and the succulent pulp, which is apparently delicious, for the ram immediately began to feast.

ENDANGERED BIGHORN

The drama occurred several days ago, and when Eric asked if I like to return to the setting, I jumped at the chance. The probability of seeing such a sight again, we both knew, was slim, but that was OK. Much rain has been falling and various plants are putting forth incredible displays in Anza Borrego Desert State Park, so there was that. And, then, who knows? Perhaps we’d run across more desert bighorn sheep, and that’s always special, for the subspecies (cremnobates) — the one inhabiting this portion of the desert — is endangered.

L to R: Ram completely relaxed; ram, showing growth patterns in horns; Phacelia; barrel cactus now in bloom.

Cremnobates has horns that vary enough from the other desert bighorns to warrant designation as a separate subspecies. Current estimates are that less than 600 remain in the US, with some estimates as low as 335. Approximately 200 of the remaining sheep are located in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. Others range north to Palm Desert and south into the Baja Pennisula.

A LAMB CALLED “HOPE”

Once the subspecies was common throughout this entire region, but when you have a region that values golf courses more than it does wildlife, animals such as the magnificent bighorn don’t stand a chance. Right now there are over 100 golf courses in — or immediately surrounding — the Palm Desert area alone, and that is ridiculous. Bob Hope once lived near the area and just before he died, he was told by research biologists that because of his involvement in trying to perpetuate the species, they wanted to name one of the rescued Cremnobates after him. “What shall we call it?” they asked. Without hesitation, the famous comedian said “Hope, and for all the obvious reason.”

Fortunately there are areas such as Anza Borrego that safeguard the species and shortly after starting on our hike up Palm Canyon, Eric and I saw two rams thudding down the flanks of Indian Head Mountain. As they scurried down they exhibited all the sure-footed traits characteristic of the species, quickly crossing the trail in front of us and then scampering up the opposite hill — another rocky slope.

Profusion of brittle brush

Though our progress was considerably slower, we followed them, and eventually their route took us back to the exact area in which Eric had watched the battle of the ram and the barrel cactus. On this day, they ignored the other barrel cacti, but apparently found the area satisfied their other needs, meaning it was safe. We stayed with them for several hours and they tolerated us, alternating their activities between wending through cactus groves and  perching on the huge boulders that enabled them to survey all that surrounded them. Occasionally one would rise and nibble on a creosote bush, somehow avoiding the thorns that seem to occupy everything that grows out here.

FLOWERS ARE EXQUISITE

Though most of our day was spent photographing the sheep, it was impossible to bypass the many wild flowers. Species that predominated included the brittle brush, phacilia, brown-eyed evening primrose, and the desert chicory. As well, a number of cacti were blooming to include the fishhook cactus and the barrel cacti. One is small the other large, but both produce flowers that are extraordinarily colorful.

This is a wonderful season to be in the desert and we count our blessings for the good fortune to be here when the sheep sightings are still common and the flowers are so gorgeous. Our only hope is that Hope – or most likely, now, its descendants – continues to flourish.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Sands That Sing

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Could the soft soothing music from Tony Feathers' guitar be luring in our new friends?

©Bert Gildart:  Whether it was the superb guitar playing, the warmth from our night fire, or the small pieces of peanuts we had apparently dropped on the ground I can’t say for sure, but one of the factors must have been responsible for the stealthy appearance of one of the desert’s most secretive creatures.

Though Janie and I have seen kangaroo rats as we’ve hiked the various deserts environs, we’ve never seen them at our feet – crawling over our boots, scampering across our hands. But that’s the way it has been the past several times we’ve sat around one of our cheery fires. Curiously song writer and guitar player Tony Feathers has joined us on each of the nights, so maybe it has been the soft sounds of his instrument and voice that have coaxed in these mysterious creatures. He plays frequently on Public Radio and at coffee houses in his home state of Tennessee, so I’m not going to sell this possibility short. He’s good, and the rats could have been mesmerized.

CHANCE FOR FREE FOOD

Another factor, of course, is the warmth from the fire. Perhaps the light from the fire has helped drawn them in. Possible, I suppose, but with their large, light-gathering eyes I doubt the fire improved their vision, so more than likely because the fire has lured us out, it is something about our presence that has drawn them in.

From our presence there is the possibility of food, and perhaps they’ve learned that. We chow on peanuts as we sip our wine, and when we chow on the peanuts, we inadvertently drop hulls. Still, it’s amazing that these timid creatures will forsake their desert ways — even for the chance of some free food.

DESERT ADAPTATIONS

Kangaroo rats are extraordinarily well adapted to this life in which they’ve been placed. Look again at their eyes, which are huge and excellent for gathering light. Then look at their huge hind legs, the source of the name. With these powerful legs, they spring long distances, soaring in huge arcs from one life-saving hole to another, chased sometimes by a coyote – and, yes damn it! — sometimes by the cats that some RVers allow to wander free from their campers. But back to these charismatic desert denizens… look at their extraordinarily long tail, which enables them to adjust their trajectory in mid air with a powerful flick.

With their huge hind legs Kangaroo rats can leap long distances and then, with their long tails, even change the trajectory of their flights.

There are yet other adaptations, and most have to do with the conservation of water. Scientists say their kidneys are extraordinarily efficient, capable of extracting life-giving moisture from tiny seeds. That’s just for starters, for scientists have tabulated many features that go on for pages.

KEEPING “KANGIE” WILD

Those, at any rate, are some of the characteristics of the visitors we’ve been enjoying the past couple of nights as we sit around our warm campfire listening to Tony Feathers play his guitar. So fearless have these creatures become that I actually had one crawling over the palm of my hand. They’re fastidious little creatures and because of the trait some people have actually tamed them as pets.

Tug of War

We, however, like them where they are and will try and do our part to keep them wild, not always easy to do. The other evening I saw one of our new friends creeping toward the hull of a peanut. Trying to reach it before the small rodent did, I succeeded only in tying with the tiny animal, which resulted in a small tug of war.

Large eyes placed on the sides of its head provide these tiny rodents with ample light-gathering capability.

“Kangie” won, and we all watched as the animal bounded off into the night. Several nights later, it returned again, but this time with several of its friends, all of whom we tried to ignore. That, at any rate, is a summary of another of our evenings here in Pegleg, America.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

Organ Pipe

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©Bert Gildart: Throughout the years, Goodyear Tires have probably been used in many ways, but perhaps the most unique is the use an abandoned tractor tire is seeing just outside California’s  Sonny Bono Wildlife Refuge. Right now, just a few miles from the refuge located near the Salton Sea, a pair of burrowing owls has laid eggs, incubated their young and seen them to the fledgling stage.

IN WAKE OF HABITAT LOSS, BURROWING OWLS FACE UNUSUAL NESTING CHOICES, IN THIS CASE A GOODYEAR TRACTOR TIRE

Eric Hansen, an RV photographer friend whose acquaintance I made years ago through the Outdoor Writer’s Association of America, spotted them several days ago with his wife Sue. Happily they shared the finding with me and yesterday, Eric and I departed Pegleg and made the hour drive to the Salton Sea, where the owls were still surveying their world from beneath the side of the tire.

GOODYEAR TRACTOR TIRE

The choice of nesting sites is not one burrowing owls would naturally choose, but was made essentially because farmers have eliminated all species of mammals that create burrows, such as prairie dogs and the various ground squirrels.

Anthony & Marguerite Breda, full time RVers and wildlife refuge volunteers.

Burrowing owls need burrows, but when they cannot find appropriate holes have to rely on something else, in the case the recess created by a discarded Goodyear tractor tire.

In some places wildlife managers are increasing the nesting habitat of burrowing owls by inserting plastic piping into the ground.

This, according to Anthony and Marguerite Breda, a couple who has been volunteering at wildlife refuges for about eight years, is helping.

Of course, they point out that natural habitat is best, and that is what the Sonny Bono Wildlife refuge still offers burrowing owls, something Marguerite knows about. Each morning she sees several pair nesting in the old fashion way — in the burrows created by the various ground squirrels.

ONE OF THE SMALLEST OF OWLS

Burrowing owls are one of the smallest species of owls, standing but nine inches-tall. It has a short tail, very long legs, and weighs but 4 oz.  When the owl sees something approaching its home, it bobs up and down a few times, and then dives into its burrow. Here, the owls breed in late winter, and the females lay around 6-8 eggs. Eggs take one month to hatch, and young owls remain in the nest for about 42 days before leaving.

Burrowing owls on Sonny Bono Wildlife Refuge, in natural habitat -- a burrow abandoned by a ground squirrel.

Burrowing owls are found in many places in the West and I’ve photographed them on the Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge in Montana where they still find nesting opportunities from the holes which prairie dogs have abandoned. The ones shown here were photographed with Nikon Camera equipment and in several cases, an 800mm lens, which placed me well away from these two nests, that is the natural nest and the abandoned Good Year tire.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Desert Five Spot & Function of Beauty

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One of Anza Borrego's most celebrated wildflowers now emerging and is abundant.

©Bert Gildart: One of the desert’s most celebrated wildflowers is now emerging in areas surrounding us here at Pegleg, a campground within the sprawling Anza Borrego Desert State Park.

Known as Desert Lily various people from our campground have surrounded sprouting leaves with circles of rocks to protect them from the many footfalls of local hikers. Their efforts have been rewarded for now emerging are undamaged specimens of what many describe as one of the desert’s most beautiful wildflowers.

Appropriately the generic name of the plant is Hesperocallis and it roughly translates from Greek as “west beauty.” (Greek hesperos, “west,” and kallos, “beauty.”) Indeed the flowers are beautiful and though I photographed one the other morning and posted it on a previous blog, the images here show more fully developed specimens and their most conspicuous features, and that is the fully opened large, cream-colored sepals and petals. Usually sepals are a different color but in the case of many lilies, sepals have become more like petals, and that’s true of the desert lily.

Though the plant is now abundant, individual specimens do not always bloom, requiring a sufficient amount of rain to activate the bulb, which can be buried several feet in the soil. Spanish called the desert Lily “Ajo (garlic) Lily” because of the bulb’s flavor.

Like the glacier lily of Glacier National Park (where I worked as a seasonal ranger), Native Americans sometimes harvested the bulb as a food source. In Glacier, grizzly bears still seek out the succulent bulbs and I have to speculate that when the California grizzly roamed this great area, it might have once sought out bulbs of this or a similar California lily, for bulbs of Montana’s glacier lilies and Anza Borrego’s desert lilies are similar. Certainly local tribes made use of the bulb, just as they made use of the agave plant, a species to which the desert lily is closely related.

FAMILY CONFUSION

Though called a lily, I find from the literature that there is much dispute as to whether the species really should be placed in the family Liliaceae. From botany courses I know that members of the lily family have the floral formula of 3-3-6-3, meaning they have three sepals, three petals, six stamen and three pistils. Our desert lilies conform to this formula, but with the advent of molecular science, taxonomists are finding molecular differences they now believe are more important than morphological features.

Desert Lilies now heralding what should be a colorful spring desert.

Now they say these features reveal that the Desert Lily is more akin to the agave and relegate it to the family Agavaceae. Adding to the confusion, yet others relegate it to the family Hesperocallidaceae, and that’s interesting as this family contains no other species but Hesperocallis undulate, our desert lily. And, yes, yet others leave it right where it’s been, and that’s in the lily family.

PHOTOGRAPHY & SPECIES IDENTIFICATION

Books on taxonomy say that to identify the desert lily, you should look for characteristic long, thin, narrow leaves that appear wavy or undulating, as suggested by the specific name undulate. You can see that feature in my photographs, but literature also says individual specimen might sometimes display thicker leaves with straight edges.

Look, too, for a flower which at times sports a stem one- to three-feet in height. At times, these structures may contain as many as 20 buds, though only a few may be open at any one time.

Some say the flower is similar to that of an Easter lily, and after spending time photographing it, must concur that the two appear somewhat similar. Photos incidentally were made during a strong wind, but my two strobes arrested leaf and flower motion. For depth of field, natural light setting had to be f-32 dropping shutter speed to 1/8^th of a second.

Look for long narrow leaves that often appear wavy.

That, however, would not have worked and resulting images would have been horribly blurred. With strobes and the camera set to manual, I was able to change the shutter speed to 1/250 of a second; aperture remained f-32.

NOW’S THE TIME TO EXPLORE

Most people, of course, probably care little about the technicalities imposed by taxonomist and by camera buffs such as myself, and are probably looking for a plant that simply adds beauty to a desert setting that can sometimes appear drab. If you fit that category, now is the time to explore Anza Borrego’s spectacular desert. Wildflowers are beginning to emerge and that news is presaged by the desert lily, one of the most beautiful of all desert flowers.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Badwater, Where An Entire River Disappears

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©Bert Gildart: For Eric Hansen and me the day could not have started out better! About a half hour after departing our camp at Pegleg, we found ourselves driving through a rugged portion of Anza Borrego Desert Park on our way to Indian Hill (also a rugged). Though the sun was just barely peeping over the horizon, as we rounded a  steep curve not far from one of the park’s major passes,  Eric, who is always on the lookout for bighorn sheep, hollered: “Bert! Up there on that cliff.  A ewe and a lamb.”

Distant sighting of young lamb topped day of superlatives at Anza Borrego.

For my Montana friends familiar with sheep biology, mark down February 17. Here ewes give birth in mid February, not early June as they do in Glacier National Park. But the conditions are similar. Both desert bighorns and Rocky Mountain bighorns seek out the most rugged terrain they can find, and this ewe was no different, for the high pass was about as rugged as you can find. Similarly, young seem born with protective camouflage, blending as they do almost perfectly in color with the surrounding rocks.

How do the ewes known to find terrain that so perfectly matches their young? And how did we know this lamb was just born?

Though I can’t answer the first question, the fact that the lamb still retained a shriveling umbilical cord was proof positive. More than likely this tiny lamb was no more than four- to five-days old – if that.

Click to see expanded caption and for larger image.

The photographs I made were all taken from the road and from a distance as well. The pair showed no concern responding to our presence simply by moving behind a creosote bush. We drove on to our day’s objective, which was Indian Hill, a remote section of the park.

CENTURY PLANTS

Our goal was to find a unique set of pictographs, and though we were unsuccessful, we were highly successful in other ways. Several agave plants were in bloom, meaning that a long life is about to end. Though also called “Century Plants,” most likely they grow but 35 to 50 years, finally, putting forth flowers at life’s end. Several had completed their life span and were now – at long last — flowering. Not only were the yellow blossoms gorgeous, but they were attracting bees and hummingbirds, and, so, were serving another function.

Rocks in the Indian Hills area also created interesting patterns, which I photographed. As well a railroad track reminded us that the rocks were once an impediment for those constructing the Carrizo George Railway. Evidence of past construction was manifest and we found a now deteriorating wall that had been built, in part, with explosive cans.

Click to see expanded caption and for larger image.

But the rocks were not an impediment to all, and once served as ancient Indian shelters and as sites for the creation of pictographs. And though we couldn’t find any that’s not all bad for the country was gorgeous, meaning that we have an excuse to return.

And then, of course, there was our rare sighting of the new-born desert bighorn lamb, which really topped the day.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

Gator Drama in Shark Valley

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Native Americans once gathered fairy shrimp in tightly woven baskets.

©Bert Gildart: Since my posting about fairy shrimp, I have learned more about this tiny crustacean by visiting with several of the volunteer naturalists at Anza Borrego Desert State Park. As I explained recently, rains dissolved the cyst that protects the species from the fiery sun and the desiccating winds. But what naturalists explained is that that all life-perpetuating functions are performed in a period of just two weeks.

Another interesting fact is that Native Americans once gathered fairy shrimp by the thousands collecting them in baskets woven so tightly that these half-inch long creatures could not escape.

Fairy shrimp then served as a source of food. Obviously the food source was marginal as rains sufficient to bring forth the large numbers Janie and I saw at Clark Lake several days ago only occur once every five or six years. This is one of those years.

SPRING FLOWERS

Rains in this park are also beginning to bring forth spring flowers, and there are two particularly showy species now blooming. One is a species of cacti known as the Fishhook Cactus, which can now be seen along the trail to the old Marshal South homestead in Blair Valley.

The other is a Gold Poppy and Eric Hansen and I photographed it yesterday while looking for sheep along the Palm Canyon trail. Eric and Sue are a husband wife writer/photographer team, also members of the Outdoor Writer’s Association of America, and Janie and I have known them for years. They’ll be here for a week or so.

To photograph the two species I used two different techniques. I photographed the cactus using two strobes lights, a technique described in other postings. I photographed the Gold Poppy by asking Eric to create a shadow over the plant, so reducing shadows that tend to be excessively contrast-y in the harsh desert light.

Eric and I are both interested in photographing the desert bighorn and, yesterday, we had some success, but it wasn’t easy. We departed our campground about six in the morning and were at the trailhead shortly thereafter. By sunrise we were a long way up the canyon when Eric spotted a ewe-lamb group on the side of Indian Head Mountain.

Bighorn sheep scurry along side of Indian Head Mountain; fishhook cactus now blooming along trail to Marshal South’s old homestead.

SHEEP WERE NONCHALANT

The sheep demonstrated but little concern and drifted toward us. Half an hour later we were close enough to perch on the side of a rock and allow them to acclimate further to our presence, which they did. Several minutes later several moved even closer toward us. Then, they began scampering around as though in play. Two of the young rams began a mock battle of head butting, but all that occurred behind a patch of creosote.

Gold poppies now in bloom along Palm Canyon trail.

Though the images I did obtain were not exceptional, I was delighted that I could document these magnificent animals in the rugged setting which has been their home for centuries. It is my hope to amass a portfolio of desert bighorn and with ones taken here several years ago, believe I am beginning to achieve that objective.  Borrego, of course, means sheep, so while here the effort as a photographer seems appropriate.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*The Dry Tortugas

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©Bert Gildart: Once every five to six years, California’s Anza Borrego Desert State Park is deluged with rain water and if it pools, a miracle occurs. Embedded in the playa of Ancient Lake Borrego, the lake from which Clark Lake (also dry) eventually derived, tiny crustaceans break free of their cysts. Specifically, the cysts have enabled early stages of the tiny fairy shrimp to survive desiccating winds and the summer temperatures that often exceed 120 degree Fahrenheit.

Here in Anza Borrego, tiny shrimp are now finding their place in the comos

That’s what’s has recently happened at this 50,000 year old lake bed. Rains have been exceptional, particularly in recent months. And now, with yet another downpour last week, the shriveled and dried up surface that until recently comprised Lake Clark, has soaked up enough moisture so that the phenomena has occurred. Rains have  softened the cysts; and they have erupted; and you can now see the half-inch-long fairy shrimp powering along the edge of this ancient lake now slightly watered.

ADAPTATIONS TO LIFE

Though difficult to see, fairy shrimp perform all the functions of life we consider normal, they but do so with structures that are certainly different from those with which we are familiar. They have a thorax which consists of 11 segments, and leaflike legs. And here is where you find the breathing organs as well as  lobes for paddling. You’ll see the shrimp if you take the time to study the water’s edge, and though they won’t be seting records for speed, they sure can move.

Look even closer and if one of these tiny creatures stops you might even see the animal’s two sets of antennae. One is extra long and it is used for grasping females during mating. Later, eggs fall to the surface mud where they might sink slightly and then develop to an early embryo stage, remaining dormant then until the next wet season. Here at Clark Lake that could be another five years down the road when heavy rains fall once again. At that time, eggs will hatch about 30 hours after rains fill the pools.

ENDANGERED CREATURES

Though the United States hosts a number of different species of fairy shrimp, five species are endangered. Declines are the result of habitat loss from agricultural and urban development, alteration of wetland by draining – and from off-road vehicle activity.

CLICK TO SEE ENLARGED IMAGE AND FOR EXTENDED CAPTION. L to R: Ancient Clark Lake, fairy shrimp, bicycling  to Clark Lake, proof that fines are not sufficient to curtail activities of a certain segment of society.

In Anza Borrego off-road use is tolerated in specific areas, but a certain segment of the group flagrantly ignore signs. Their actions serve to give all in the group a bad name, which is unfortunate, as most in  are law abiding. Sadly there was much evidence this past week of such activity immediately adjacent to a posted sign at Clark Lake. (See photos of JUST ONE example.)

Fairy shrimp serve as an important cog in the food chain, providing sustenance for a variety of shore birds. Photographing the species requires specialized equipment and much patience, but I  enjoy looking at them as they remind me of the extraordinary adaptations life has made to endure under the most capricious of circumstances.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Spring Awakening Death Valley

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Daria Aquiar of Baja California and a member of the Paipai nation demonstrates basket making techniques.

©Bert Gildart: This past weekend Anza Borrego Desert State Park in southern California presented its annual Archaeoastronomy weekend, opening its museums for visitor tours – and hosting a tribe of Native Americans.

The group is known as the Paipai and they hale from the Santa Catarina area of the Baja Pennisula, which is located about a four hour drive south of Anza Borrego. As many who follow our blog know, Janie and I have a particular interest in Native Americans and have, in fact, devoted an entire page of our website to the Gwich’in Indians of Alaska.

Over the years, my stories and photographs of Native Americans have appeared in dozens of publications to include Christian Science Monitor, Native Peoples Magazine, National Wildlife and Time/Life.

PAIPAI INDIANS  PRESERVE THEIR PAST

The presence of the Paipai at the Visitor Center this past weekend provided us with an opportunity to meet a group of people who are actively attempting to preserve their indigenous ways, specifically, by the continued creation of baskets, bows and arrows, and pottery.

But the weekend was also about the area’s ancient past, and not to gloss over the work of all the volunteer archaeologists, the weekend also provided insights into a time when mammoths, zebras, llamas, camels, and ancient horses roamed the shores of ancient inland seas that once spread north from the Sea of Cortez. Indeed, the archaeological weekend provided not only a number of photographic opportunities, but also an excellent time to learn about the area’s incredible past.

MADE FROM PINE NEEDLES

Because most of the Native artists spoke Spanish, Horacio Moncada served as a translator for artists Enriqueta Castro, Melina Zazueta and Adan Arenivar. He said the baskets were made from Jeffrey pine needles and palm leaves to create the intricately coiled pine leaves. They are proud that their use does not harm the trees as leaves and needles are gathered from those that have fallen to the ground. Horacio said that techniques for making the items were handed down over a period of almost 1,000 years.

Adan Arenivar created the bows and arrows and the sling shot, and with the exception of the rubber for the sling shot, all materials were derived from the land.

Click for enlarged version and to see extended caption.

Our visits with members of the Paipai Tribe occurred immediately in front of the Visitor Center, but not so tours of the museum. Normally, the area is off limits, but during this special weekend tours were conducted into actual working labs. Judy Smith, an RVer and also a volunteer who has undergone intense training, explained that zebras, sloths, and camels once occupied what is now the badlands terrain. From this area, the park has amassed a rich collection of bones.

HORSES DIED OUT

Archaeologists have then identified the bones and the results are amazing. Zebras and camels once occupied the area, but so, too, did horses and llamas. Interesting, these latter two species then migrated, horse to Asia and llamas to South America. Then, several million years ago those in North America all died out.

Click for enlarged version and to see extended caption.

In other words, though horses and llamas evolved here and later populated other portions of the world, it was up to the Spanish explorers to reintroduce horses, and up to the Mexicans to reintroduce llamas by bringing them across the isthmus of Panama.

During the weekend, the park also offered a number of seminars, many of which we attended. All were interesting, but for us, the opportunity to meet another group of Native Americans and some of the actual field people now serving as volunteers was the highlight.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*A Letter To Save The Everglades

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Bert Gildart: Two years ago I wrote a major story for magazine produced by The Wilderness Society about global warming. At the time I quoted Dr. Erik Beever, one of the premier scientists working on the subject. He was concerned about the effect rising temperatures would have on pika, a tiny member of the rabbit family and one I have posted on previously. Much of his work has been centered on pika in wilderness areas of the Great Basin. Because pika can not tolerate the increasing temperatures associated with global warming he said that the species is like the canary in the coal mine, telling us world temperatures are too high.

A member of the rabbit family whose survival depends on the cold temperatures previously associated with high altitudes.

Beever says that archaeological evidence proves pika have inhabited the Great Basin for the past 40,000 years and that in 1940, scientists cataloged 25 distinct populations in the region. In 1992 Beever began his investigations but found only 19 pika populations. In 2004 subsequent research indicated his 19 had dropped to 17 and that all pika had migrated up about 130 vertical yards.

Despite the fact that he believes pika will most likely be gone from the Great Basin,” the US Fish and Wildlife Service released findings today saying the pika need not be placed on the endangered species list. Though their findings contradict those of some scientists, here is what they had to say.

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

“Although the American pika is potentially vulnerable to the impacts of climate change in portions of its range, the best available scientific information indicates that pikas will be able to survive despite higher temperatures. Pikas will have enough suitable high elevation habitat to prevent them from becoming threatened or endangered. As a result, the pika does not meet the criteria for protection under the Endangered Species Act.

“We have completed an exhaustive review of the scientific information currently available regarding the status of the American pika and have analyzed the potential threats to the species,” said Steve Guertin, the Service’s Director of the Mountain-Prairie Region. “Based on this information, we have determined that the species as a whole will be able to survive despite increased temperatures in a majority of its range and is not in danger of extinction in the foreseeable future…

TEMPERATURE SENSITIVITY

“A key characteristic of the American pika is its temperature sensitivity. Pikas cannot tolerate much higher body temperatures than their norm of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Therefore, the species is found at progressively higher elevations, where cooler temperatures are found, as one moves south through the range of the species.  In Canada, populations occur from sea level to 9,842 feet, but in New Mexico, Nevada, and southern California, populations rarely exist below 8,202 feet.

The pika is like the canary in the coal mine telling us by its demise that world temperatures are critically high.

“Several climate change variables can affect pika populations, including extremely hot or cold days, average summer temperatures, and duration of snow cover.  In general, pika biologists agree that temperatures below the habitat surface, such as in loose rock area crevices, better approximate the conditions experienced by pikas because they rely on subsurface habitat to escape hotter summer daytime temperatures and obtain insulation during the colder winter months. Therefore, surface temperatures may not be as useful as subsurface temperatures for predicting the effects of climate change on pika populations…”

The paper continues, noting that their finding suggest pika will survive in the Great Basin as well as in areas such as Bodie, California and in the hot climates of Craters of the Moon (Idaho) and Lava Beds National Monuments (California). They say that pikas persist at these sites because they reduce activity during hot mid-day temperatures by retreating to significantly cooler conditions under the loose rock areas and perform daily activities during the cooler morning and evening periods. Despite altering their behavior in response to high temperatures, pikas can maintain high birth and low mortality rates.

Obviously there are different theories regarding the future of the pika and although I’m inclined to place more credence in the finding of Mr. Beever, I hope the USFW is correct. Pikas are diminishing in number from Glacier National Park (as well as the park’s glaciers!) as well as from the Great Basin. I also hope enough of these charismatic little creatures survive to ultimately replenish their kind.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Badwater, Where An Entire River Can Disappear

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©Bert Gildart: “It was probably a little something like this,” said Bill Doyle, who has become a student of the years Marshal South, Tanya, and their three children spent atop Ghost Mountain in what is now Anza Borrego Desert State Park.   “Marshal,” continued Bill, “would step outside Yaquitepec (name for their home),  and sit on this very rock. He was trying to live off the land while developing a literary following. He hoped for peace in a chaotic world and he would contemplate his place in the universe. Some say he never found it,  but he gave it a good try. ”

"Let my house be a house of Love and Understanding... Let its roof be the arch of the sky and its music the songs of the birds and of the wind and of the harps of the rain."

Because of their lifestyle (also see: Brokeback Mountain or Ghost Mountain…) those in the surrounding communities criticized them. Sometimes the Souths went naked or they dressed in animal skins.

They built their home by hand and lived there from 1932 to 1947. To survive, they collected water in cisterns, collected plants, such as agave for food – just as did the Indians – and they penned their stories and their poems from this remote setting. Marshal in particular, wrote about desert life and desert survival, though in what may have been a romanticized manner.

IT WILL BE A GOOD YEAR

Later, Marshal added painting and pottery to his artistic repertoire.

As always, we cheer when we find that manifestations of their life remain, enough so, at any rate, to build on what we know. “I think it symbolic that we’re here the first of January,” said Bill, “for one of Marshal’s very first stories for Desert Life Magazine was made in January, January of 1940. He said that “the desert is full of mystery and surprise. No two years are ever they same… He wrote in his story that “It will be a good year.”

Bill, pointing to mark on the sun dial representing north at Yaquitepec, home of Marshal and Tanya South for 17 years.

Bill and I (Janie and I too) have both visited the home many times, but on this outing we were doing so late in the evening, hoping to create images that would recall a life that is fading and may be all too soon forgotten. We both thought that the deteriorating homestead back dropped by a sky full of stars would create the ephemeral image we thought appropriate, but because of an unexpected cloud layer, that was not to be.

Still, the evening turned out to be a splendid one, essentially because of the thoughts we shared about this controversial family, and because of the images we did make.

ERODING STRUCTURE

We began by making images of the eroding home, lamenting the fact that so much had deteriorated. We found the cisterns they used to collect water. We found the bed they’d shared for 17 years but looking sadly a bit more dilapidated than when we saw it a year ago.

Their lives as a couple ended with sadness, but for awhile, they had mastered their environment and had apparently enjoyed domestic harmony, for they had three children, conceived at Yaquitepec.

As we cast around we found the sun dial Marshal had erected, and with close scrutiny Bill thought he found a mark that represented north. “I think,” said Bill, “I know where north is.” Then, with his index finger, he pointed to a fading scratch that seemed aligned with north. Bill went on to say that from his reading he believed Marshal and Tanya had constructed their home so that the door  would face the southern sky, probably to draw in more winter sun.

Bill continued to walk around returning a few minutes later saying he thought he’d found Marshal’s kiln, and wanted to show it to me. Though primitive, the piled rocks could easily have accommodated a pot about the size of one the Indians might have used, adding to our convictions. As well, we found burned wood that now appeared like so much charcoal .

We both felt it appropriate to be reminiscing about the Souths first week in January 1940, a time Marshal recalled in one of his many articles for Desert Magazine with much optimism.

Agave, one of the plants used by Native Americans -- and by the Souths -- as a staple.

“It will be a good year,” wrote Marshal, saying that he was quoting Tanya.

DEER MICE

In his January article he also spoke of the coyotes, owls, the agave, and the tiny deer mice, which we soon heard scurrying all around. In his January entry, he wrote about the tiny creatures in a way I could appreciate for once I lived with them too, and knew they had an interesting life history. Wrote Marshal: “And the white-footed mice are always with us. There is something amiable and companionable about a white-footed mouse. Long experience with us has given them confidence. They slip in and out in the evenings like cheery little grey gnomes; squatting on the edge of the great adobe stone and nibbling tidbits…”

That was something I could relate to from my days years ago at Glacier National Park’s Cut Bank Ranger Station (probably one of the reasons I empathize with the couple), and as Bill and I sat on a rock at the South’s and listened quietly, we could hear the tiny microtids scampering around. Later, when the moon rose it provided adequate light  for us to see them. Quietly, they’d move, stopping every now, “while their big, beady black eyes watch us attentively,” as Marshal concluded. It was a condition I knew a little something about.

Eroding ruins of Yaquitepec, home of Marshal and Tanya South for 17 years.

Before long the sun dipped low in the mountains creating an incredible sunset (above), which I photographed through the arch that once served as the entry to their home. Adobe walls still stood, but the bed had collapsed. Though we stayed until it was pitch dark, and though the clouds did diffuse a bit, the skies never cleared adequately to create the type of night I wanted and had so successfully experimented with in Death Valley. No matter, for time spent atop Ghost Mountain in January bodes well, and we agreed, that our successful night might bode for “a good year.”

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Trailer Trash

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Bert Gildart: About five years ago, Janie and I completed a Falcon Guide book for Dinosaur National Park. At first, the book sold well, but then the park had to close the Quarry Center because of a bad foundation. Recently Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar announced a $13.1 million investment to demolish and replace condemned portions of the Quarry Visitor Center, and they now anticipate a reopening by summer of 2011.

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That sounds like a long way away, but not if you want to float one of the monument’s two famous rivers, the Green and the Yampa, for reservations must be made well in advance. In fact, river boat explorations are one of the major reasons to visit the park, but there’s lots more, to include visiting the park’s major petroglyph sites and hiking all the wonderful trails. What’s more, you can still see dinosaur remains in a temporary museum. In other words you can see and do everything this wonderful monument offers, though granted right now you can more fully experience the rivers.

As part of our research for the guide books, we floated them both. On our own, we floated the Green – that was an adventure. The other, the Yampa, we floated with Hatch Expeditions. If you want to float these rivers, you need to begin making plans now, and to give you a sense of some of the excitement we experienced, here is an excerpt from our book, and it took place just below the Gates of Lodor through the exact same section where John Wesley Powell lost his boat. The famous one-armed Civil War survivor was on a survey mission for the government.

FROM OUR BOOK

…Half an hour later we realized we could procrastinate no longer. We shoved our 14-foot raft into the river—and almost instantly were locked in the river’s brawn.

I wish before we had departed home that I had done more push-ups or lifted more weights. Or that my last rafting experience had not been several years ago. What followed was a series of mistakes executed with precision that were a marvel to behold. In fact, you can use my performance as an example of what you should not do.

Immediately, we broadsided the same rock the ranger (he’d just proceeded us) had so easily shipped. Then, as I attempted to push off with the oar, the boat shot forward knocking the oar from my hand and into the water. You should never allow that to happen.

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Just before the oar shot past the boat’s bow, Janie managed to reach out and snatch it from a watery fate. Thrusting it toward me I desperately returned the oar pin to its lock. But during those few moments we had paid a price, for now the boat careened—utterly out of control.

Ultimately, the fates waxed kindly, but not without first presenting a series of challenges. Although I had committed two major blunders in rapid succession, I recovered and had the finesse to pull with my left arm and push with my right just as we slammed onto yet another rock, my actions whipping the raft from that rock and back into the current, which immediately thrust us onto yet another rock.

And now, our raft had begun to fill with water.

WE’D BECOME ONE WITH THE WATER

Our boat is a bucket boat—one that you must bail yourself—and Janie attempted to do just that. But we were floating through powerful waves and our descent down this maelstrom was less than ideal. More water swallowed our boat until we were almost bathing in it. But though we were now in the midst of Upper Disaster, we actually wallowed through—certainly not with grace or dignity—but rather because we had become as one with the water!

Beautiful Echo Park, once a rallying cry for conservationists.

Four days later we completed our float down the Green, but decided we’d leave our float down the Yampa to the professionals, and so we joined up with Hatch Expeditions.  They made it all seem easy.

THIS REMOTE PARK HAS IT ALL

Should you decided you want to see this incredible park that links two states, that contains incredible geology, petroglyphs, wonderful camping and bewildering rivers, one of which John Wesley Powell once floated, we can make it easy. Dinosaur is one of those remote and much overlooked parks and you can still see the park’s dinosaur collection. You can buy Exploring Dinosaur by contacting us. Or you can purchase it through either Amazon or through Falcon. Either way, we’ll appreciate your business.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Lessons From Cades Cove

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©Bert Gildart: Again, bears are much on my mind, essentially because Gus Chambers from Montana Public TV spent this past Thursday with me in my office, going over some of my photo files that date back to the late 1960s. I’ll be posting some of those images later in the week, and think most readers will find them interesting. They tell stories of the ways in which bear management in national parks has so drastically changed.

Gus was interested in these photos as Public TV plans a  documentary intended to  rehash that horrible night in 1967 when two girls were fatally mauled, both in a single night (Night Of the Grizzlies). They intend the documentary to be released in late spring and in the gathering of materials the station has visited with all the people involved.  That’s a lot of leg work, but because of time invested, this promises to be a well-researched presentation.

Hibernating black bear on ridge overlooking Glacier National Park

Previously, Gus and his partner had interviewed me but last week he was here to peruse my files. Before he showed up I wasn’t sure how much I’d be able to help. Gus wanted bear images, but more, he wanted images from the ‘60s, which was prior to the time when I began the methodical filing of professional images. No problem finding bear images, which he’ll use as stills, but he’d hoped for more, and so he asked:   “Don’t you have an old shoe box of images?”

Well, yes, I did, and what a treasure trove we found; images I hadn’t looked at in years. More later this week.

TABLOID OFTEN WON FIRST PLACE

In the meantime, here is a black and white photo pulled from the days when I was the editor of the Flathead Outdoor Journal, an image which Gus and I found in the course of our search for photos for his documentary. The outdoor tabloid was published by the Bigfork Eagle,  and was eventually inserted into three of the Valley’s weekly papers. During those years, the paper often won first-place from the Montana Press Association, both for story content and for my photographs.

Above is one one of the images that won a first prize, and it was made from a hillside overlooking Glacier National Park. While hiking in late November friends and I had discovered a likely site for a bear den and decided we’d take a peek inside. Snow covered the ground that year, and it was extremely cold. Food was scarce so it was not a big surprise to find exactly what we’d been looking for hidden in the much recessed cave.

Crawling into the opening, I  could see curled in a ball in the far corner, a female black bear. She knew I was there but had already entered into a state of lethargy associated with hibernation, so she simply raised her head and then gnashed her teeth. She repeated this action several times, eventually sinking back into her stupor. A friend was grasping my ankle and if there had been a problem he was to yank me out with all his strength. Quickly I snapped a photo, and although the flash didn’t seem to disturb the bear, nevertheless I signaled my friend to yank.

It was a great photo opportunity, and it did win a prize, but I doubt I’ll do that again.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*When It Snow In The Great Smokies

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©Bert Gildart: When Bruce Funk, a hunting guide in Alaska who just returned from the Brooks Range, looked at this photo, he immediately said, “Sow.”

Guess, then, that I’m typical of those who see a bear and are impressed by the intensity of the moment rather than by the more dispassionate facts. Big bears can do that to you, and all grizzlies can seem big, particularly when they’re staring right at you. But after talking to a few people who must make proper evaluations for a bear’s safety and a client’s satisfaction, I find that I must modify comments I made in my October 19 post about gender and weight.

Bruce, who is neighbor here in rural Creston, Montana, looked at my pictures and made his instant assessment by looking at several features. “Look at the ears,” said Bruce. “A sow’s ears are located more toward the top of its head while those of a boar are located more on the side. And see how circular this bear’s face is. A boar’s face is more angular, more triangular in shape. This one’s legs are short and squat, so it all starts to add up.”

Bruce said that you also need to look at its neck. “The neck of a boar is longer,” said the hunting guide. “So you put all these things together and I’d say with 95 percent certainly that what you photographed was a sow. It’s a big one alright, but I believe it is a sow.”

WINTER FUR CREATES ILLUSION OF IMMENSE SIZE

Bruce went on to say that the bear appears so heavy because its fur is long at this time of year, and that makes its body weight appear more than what it might actually be. “When you get a bear on the ground,” said Bruce, “and strip the hide from the carcass, bears start to shrink real quick.”

Based on short snout and placement of ears, those in the know say this is a sow, weighing about 450 pounds.

Another person whose opinion I greatly respect is that of Rick Millsap. Rick worked for almost 30 years in Glacier National Park and many of those years were spent in bear management in the Many Glacier area. Currently, he’s a backcountry Ranger in Alaska’s Wrangle St. Elias National Preserve, our largest Park Service managed area.

EARS TELL THE STORY

Like Bruce, Rick uses ears in helping him evaluate various features. As a bear ranger, sometimes he’s had to dart bears, and an overdose of the drug could kill it. As a result he has given much thought to the art and says he’s never been off more than 50 pounds off.

“When I look at your bear,” said Rick, referring to the photo which I’d emailed to him, “I see big ears and a relatively small body. It’s about ready to hibernate so it has added another couple hundred pounds. I’d say it could go as large as 450, and that’s really big for a sow in Glacier. “Course I’m not in the field so I’m disadvantaged.”

A file photo from the Wolf Grizzly Bear Discovery Center near YNP, so we know this one is a male. Since you can't get upclose and real personal, look at the elongated snout and ears, which suggests a MALE.

Though I was in the field, still I’m going to defer to Bruce and Rick who both came up with similar thoughts. So now I’ve got to back off from my thoughts about it being a large boar. Bruce and Rick also said that if this is a pregnant female she’ll probably lose several hundred pounds during the course of hibernation. Cubs will be born about February, and if this is, in fact, a lactating female, she’ll loose several hundred pounds by the time she emerges from hibernation. “She’ll void the plug,” said Bruce, “that all bears create in their intestines to keep their digestive systems in order. Then, it will be several weeks before her system is back to normal.”

KEEP BEAR SPRAY OUT AND READY

Bruce said that she’ll probably lose lots more weight during hibernation so that by May, she might only weigh 300 pounds. Bruce thought this was a bear well into her prime, making her about 10 years old.

So with all that information, I’m convinced, my grizzly of several weeks ago was a female that could have weighed between 450 and 500 (give me that as I was in the field), but what do you think?

What we all agreed upon is that the bear was not an angry grizzly bear. She had no cubs with her and she may well have acquired some fear of people through aversive conditioning regularly practiced by rangers in Glacier. What’s more we had not surprised her. However, Bruce said I was certainly smart to have my bear spray out and ready. Rick concurred, saying he’d used bear spray a number of times, and that a healthy blast had once turned a charging bear.

Lots you can learn by talking to good field people.

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THREE YEARS AGO AT THIS TIME:

*Harpers Ferry

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©Bert Gildart: It’s mating season for elk throughout the Rockies, and bull elk are now making their presence known. Several nights ago, while camped at Whistler Campground just outside of the townsite of Jasper, Alberta, Janie looked out the window of our Airstream and saw four cow elk being herded by a royal bull elk (that’s one with six tines).

There were about 10 feet separating our truck from our Airstream and the bull laid back his head and walked between the two. Then he tried to corral the four members of his small harem. Grabbing my camera I opened the door and moved to a positions where I could jump behind a huge tree should the bull come my way. Janie also stepped from the trailer and tried to take several photographs. My best image was one of Janie beneath the awning of the trailer jockeying for position.

Janie attempting to position herself for a photo of bull elk in Jasper National Park.

This is the same campground at which we stayed last year for almost 10 days, gathering many images of elk. The trip was highlighted with a number of experiences which illustrate the fact that many believe seeing elk in Jasper is like seeing elk in a zoo. That, as my images show, is certainly not the case.

NIGHT OF THE GRIZZLY

Several years ago I provided a posting about my involvement in the first two fatal mauling experienced in Glacier National Park (Night of the Grizzly). The posting continues to attract a number of comments, and for some reason, several have chosen this time to add their thoughts. All are interesting and I invite others to leave their thoughts as well. I’ve also posted on other grizzly bear situations, and here’s a link to one that could have resulted in serious consequences( *Training People to Watch Bears).

Last year reporters from Public TV interviewed me (and many others as well) about my involvement in the dual tragedy. I understand production is about to wrap up and that a program about the tragedy will air sometime this spring. Though the maulings occurred in 1967, this year marks the 100 year anniversary of Glacier, so the timing to report on bears in Glacier remains appropriate.

Note: After writing the above, I just figured out why so many are choosing to post comments about my involvement. Bill Schneider, a writer with New West, interviewed producers of an upcoming Montana PBS documentary about the maulings, and provided a link to my site. Here’s a link to his site, and his story about the interview.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Moose & Their Bizarre Feeding Techniques

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(Note: Several have requested links to the book Night of the Grizzly, which I’m now providing as well as links to books on the natural history of bears. These are all excellent works, and I personally know ALL the authors. If you follow my links to Amazon, and then purchase from that link — that really AUGMENTS our travels.)

©Bert Gildart: If you want to see bison engaged in the all the ritualistic traits associated with the power of the species, mark on your calendar the middle of August. Here, at this time, along the Alaskan Highway, it’s the season of the bison.

Rolling in dirt rids bison of bugs, but also telegraphs a high degree of anxiety.

Yesterday, Janie and I were driving about 20 miles north of Liard Hot Springs, in British Columbia, when we came across a herd of bison roaring like lions, kicking dust in the air, rolling in dirt, sniffing one another… pawing the earth, and butting horns. None of this was done in play; rather it was conducted in earnest and is associated with the hormonal rush these huge beasts are now experiencing. These activities are timeless ones, and are important as they will determine the evolution of the species. Their activities will determine which bulls mate with the females, and when all the formality is over, only the strongest will pass on their genes.

Bison have always inhabited the mountains and forest of the far north; in fact the Canadians have established a vast preserve known as Wood Buffalo National Park, located well east of here. But bison have also inhabited the forest of British Columbia, and if you are lucky enough to see them, you are in for a real treat.

TWO MALES GOING WILD

We saw these magnificent creatures as we ascended from a swale along the road. From the crest, we could see a small herd of bison and even from a distance of half a mile, we could see two males were going wild. Driving closer we watched as they pushed and shoved, churning up forest grasslands over a distanced that covered several acres. Driving yet closer, we could see muscles strain, horns probe.

CLICK ON EACH IMAGE TO SEE LARGE VERSION: L to R: Other cars pull off leaving this Airstream out in the open; bellowing bull means “Watch out;” but that’s something this Neanderthal must not have realized, though he was lucky  — fortune not everyone is accorded.

The action went on for about 10 minutes, and when it ended, neither bull seemed satisfied, meaning the war had not yet been concluded, though a battle had been fought. We settled in to wait, pulling our Airstream off the road, but well away from the herd. I then mounted on a tripod an 840mm lens attached to my Nikon D300 and hoped the action would resume. In the meantime, the few other drivers along the Alcan had also noted the action and they, too, were pulling over. What people do as they watch wildlife, always awes — and sometimes frightens me.

ABSOLUTELY NO COMMON SENSE

Last year, Janie and I were in Jasper when bull elk were battling, and we watched as people violated every common sense rule known to mankind. That day a bull elk charged a motorhome that had entered his space, and badly gouged it. Now, it appeared as though the same thing might happen again, but this time rather than a 1,200 pound elk hitting a vehicle, it appeared as though a 2,000 mass of fury might attack, for the perpetrators were assembling.

A young man stepped out of his vehicle and watched as a bison ambled by, passing within feet of his rented motorhome. Moments later a couple driving a sports car stopped in the middle of the road, leaped out, ran toward the bison, and began clicking with their tiny instamatic cameras. They ran back and speed off, leaving a couple in an Airstream travel trailer (not us) out in the open. The couple had just pulled in, and wisely they sat in their tow vehicle as a bull sauntered in front of them and then crossed the road.

MAN TOSSED INTO TREE

Luckily, nothing happened to any of the wildlife watches here along the Alcan, but I will always recall the anecdote of a Yellowstone National Park visitor approaching a bull bison during the mating season and being rewarded for his Neanderthal curiosity by being charged and then tossed into a tree. This troglodyte got by with just a couple of broken ribs.

CLICK TO SEE IMAGE AS LARGER VERSION. L To R: Bison now battling along Alcan near Muncho Lake; Rolling in dirt rids bison of bugs and adds to drama of mating season; fighting was persistent.

Meanwhile, action in the herd was picking back up, and from a distance I photographed a cow rolling in the dirt, then a bull rolling in the dirt. But not too far away, one of the two bull combatants began roaring again, and minutes later, the two gladiators were at it again.

My 840mm telephoto enables me to capture the action from a safe distance and for over an hour, I worked hard, trying to record this incredible moment. The two bison pounded each other, and I recorded it, but nothing, it appeared would be resolved today – so the war was not yet over. More battles would be fought.

Finally, with about 200 images of a herd of bison, I realized I could do little more. Still, the bison and the din of noise they were creating from all these ritualistic activities, continued. Janie and I remained awed, and for awhile we simply watched. The moment was a timeless one, and we felt privileged on this August day to be part of this rare drama, this season of the bison.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Quebec City

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©Bert Gildart: Two of Alaska’s five species of salmon have once again returned to the state’s various streams and rivers, following an immense migration from the ocean. The return is a much heralded event, and is the source of art, scientific management and considerable awe. It’s an exciting time to be stalking Alaskan waters!

The return of the salmon prompts various forms of art.

The species we’ve seen vary from location to location, and in Whitehorse on the Yukon, it was the King Salmon, also known as Chinook. In Skagway, along the Skagway River it is the Coho. Other times of the summer see the chum, sockeye and pinks. In all cases, the streams they seek are the streams from which they first emerged as young fry. Now they are returning, using their olfactory senses to seek out the tiny streams that imprinted on their minds.

“It’s like a finger print,” said one of the interpreters at the Whitehorse Fishway Interpretation Centre. “Each stream has specific odors, created perhaps by its chemical or mineral makeup.”

FISH LADDER

Just a few weeks ago Janie, Adam, Susan and I were lured to the Yukon as it passes through Whitehorse. The river provides Kings with the world’s longest fish migration route, allowing these salmon to enter the Yukon and then migrate over 2,000 miles to small tributary streams near Teslin, located in the Yukon Territory. Once Kings had free access along their entire route, but as Whitehorse grew, hydro electric power was deemed a necessity, and so the town built a small dam. Obviously, the dam interfered with the migration, so in 1959, just after completion of the dam, the government constructed a fish ladder, one of the longest wooden fish ladders in the world. In part, that’s what attracted our small group to the interpretive center.

PHOTO TECHNIQUES

The interpretive center is comprehensive offering among its displays a series of aquariums. One window shows young “fry” and I found I could photograph them by placing the lens of my camera flush with the glass. Others were attempting to photograph the fry (young fish) by holding the camera away from the glass, but that way you get glare.  However, unless your lens has a macro mode you’re out of luck as you can’t get close enough to focus. Still, because the depth of field is so shallow — and the fry are moving so fast — you’ll need many attempts just to obtain a few good shots.

SALMON GENERATE ART

Other parts of the center offer displays of Native arts, showing miniatures of fish traps and of the ingeniously designed fish wheel.

Also on display were artistically rendered fish, created every year by any who wish to participate. Many artists add to the fish wall, and this year, a lady operating our campground created one with an African motif. Most are decorated with germane paintings, or with beads and tacks that create a pleasing pattern. All the fish are then grouped into a display, and the end result is striking.

Adjacent to the swarm of art fish is the fish ladder, and every now and then you can see well how it works. Below you, in the Yukon, huge King Salmon battle in the river’s murky (almost impossible to photograph) waters, just below the dam. Because they can not overcome the powerful waters created by the spill, they are pushed to the sides, where their energy is renewed. With thrusts of tail and bodies, they then power their way up the trough for what appears to be about a hundred yards.

To see larger version click on each image. L to R: Coho salmon now in tiny streams surrounding Skagway; return of salmon prompts artistic intrepretaions, in this case native fish traps and fish wheels; fish ladder help King Salmon around dam.

In this way they make their way around the dam and back into the wild Yukon. From here, they continue their migration, eventually returning to the tiny streams from which they hatched. Then the cycle begins anew, and the following spring, young fry make their way down the Yukon — or the Skagway River — where they enter the ocean.

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

For up close and personal observations, Skagway is the place to go, and here we saw Coho salmon. Though not as colorful as Kings (in fact the color of Coho is drab), still the migration is spectacular and because you are so close, you find yourself cheering them on.  This is the final leg of their journey, and you can watch them separated from a vantage point of just a few dozen feet. Get any closer and they spook.

For Kings and Coho, all this takes place in July and throughout much of August. As nature would have it, some were already turning belly up, their job of creating their redds complete.

As "fry" young king salmon will soon start their jouney back down the Yukon, where they'll enter the ocean.

Redds are the nests in which females lay their eggs, which number over 5,000. Males quickly move in and cover the eggs with milt. Shortly thereafter, life for them is over, their role of renewing their kind complete.

THE CYCLE REPEATS

Young hatch in late fall or early winter and are called alevins. They live off the yoke sack and when it is gone they are called fry. Fry begin making their way toward the ocean, though live for about two years in fresh water. At the end of their downstream migration they enter the ocean where they remain for about three years, at which time, they begin their way toward such rivers as the Yukon. Not all kings, of course, originated in the Yukon, but many did – and those are the ones you can see in Whitehorse. Likewise, not all Coho originated in the Skagway River, but these two rivers provide extraordinary opportunities to watch as a cycle three to five years in the making draws to a close – but then makes ready to begin again.

The sight can be both humbling and uplifting, and is one that can be seen in but few places. The Yukon and Skagway rivers offer that extraordinary opportunity.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Old Quebec City

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Cora "Umara Nupowhotuk" creates work of art that reflect her traditional ancestory.

©Bert Gildart: Cora “Umara Nupowhotuk” is originally from St. Lawrence Island and, today, she makes Caribou Masks that tell of the traditional past.

John Koweluk and Molly Hunt from Katlik make exquisitely beaded moccasins while Kenneth Frank of Arctic Village is an artist with the drums.

Because Alaska is such a huge state, many of these native arts and crafts remain unique to the culture and obscured from a more public viewing. But at the World Eskimo Indian Olympics (WEIO) held each year for four days in Fairbanks, Alaska, in July, artists arrive prepared to display and explain production. And, of course, WEIO provides a good setting in which you can make purchases, some that will last a life.

Cora “Umara Nupowhotuk” (see last photo from  July 20 post) is one of the more distant representatives of Native  art, having been reared on St. Lawrence Island, located some 40 miles off the Siberian coast. She says her mother and grandmother instructed her in the art of skin sewing. She says her work has been worn on the summit of Denali, the Antarctic and has been displayed in the Smithsonian.

Umara’s work represents the faces of traditional Siberian Yupik people. Her son harvests the caribou, she then molds the faces over one of the cedar faces she has carved. Later, she adds tattoos, representing an adornment that was once a custom among woman of her culture. She says that there are several elderly women from her village and that they have facial tattoos “similar, she says, “to those shown on my masks.

TRADITIONALLY, WOMEN ALL WORE FACIAL TATTOOS

Umara’s masks depict both men and women, though the ones of woman seemed more appealing to Janie and me. All were adorned with customary tattoos and beads, and some of the patterns she’s created represent waves, life lines, northern lights, fern leaves among others.

Men wore no facial tattoos, but they did have marks above their eye brows. “If a woman was barren her husband was allowed to take a second wife,” said Umara. “If he did, the eye brow marks tell that story.”

CLICK ON IMAGE TO SEE ENLARGED PHOTO. L TO R: MOCCASINS, DRUM GROUP, SUSAN HOPE, KUUGMIUT DRUM AND DANCE GROUP

Mary and Francis Kakoona of Shishmaref live equally as far away. Their village is about 80 miles north of Nome, which is in the Berring Sea, and has the tragic distinction of being located on a small island that is rapidly diminishing because of global warming. “We’ll have to relocate,” says Francis, “and we’re very sad because of our history there.”

LIFE-LIKE CREATIONS

Francis hunts for seals and walruses just off the island and it is from these animals that he extracts materials for his work. “I shape the ivory,” he says, “so that it takes on a life.”

All in all about 30 artists displayed their work at WEIO, and all was of excellent quality. We would have photographed more but we had to coordinate the times we asked questions and made photographs between lulls in the Olympic competitions and, of course, during times when artists were free from sales.

Kimberly Dullen (Miss WEIO 2008) crowns Alanna Gibson, the new Miss WEIO

Sometimes, of course, I simply photographed individuals engaged in activities that I thought projected talent. These include Susan Hope with her father’s ship made of baleen, Kenneth Frank joining a group that simply wish to be known as Soaring Eagle, drummers from Anaktuvuk Pass, and, finally, and certainly not to be excluded, the lovely Kimberly Dullen crowning the equally as lovely Alanna Gibson of Minto, the new Miss WEIO.

These young ladies are artists themselves, and do more than stand and project beauty. As well, several are talented craftpersons themselves, one of the abilities on which judges decide just who will be a Miss WEIO.

Though the contest ended this past Saturday night, I may post a few other photographs.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Theodore Roosevelt National Park

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©Bert Gildart: In Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, there’s an interpretative center that has so influenced us that we have made summer-long boat trips into the area it represents. Once this ancient area connected Russia and Alaska and the center interprets that great connection and the mega fauna that surrounded it. My stories concerning the people of the area have appeared in over a dozen publications to include Time/Life, National Wildlife and the Christian Science Monitor.

Beringia Center helps bring the distant past alive

The land is known by several names. Some call it the Bering Land Strip, but I prefer the the word Beringia, which is the name of the center, specifically the Beringia Center. Its purpsose is to interpret this area that once exsited about 10,000 years ago, focusing to some extent on the “mega fauna.” We’re familiar with many of their forms, but their size astounds us, for some were two and three times as large as what their counterparts now are today.

The center also interprets the tribes of Native Americans and their ancestors who might have followed these species, and many wound up in the area we now call Old Crow. That’s the area to which we boated, but you don’t have to embark on such a trip, for, today, the Beringia Center will help you appreciate this mega fauna, which includes saber tooth tigers, wooly mammoths, giant beaver and the gigantic short-faced grizzly bear.

One of my proudest moments as a journalist was photographing Sarah Abel at Old Crow. Some said she was 103 at the time.

As well, the Beringia Center provides the words of these elders, though some have now passed away. But while they lived they provided insights into this bygone world, and we feel privileged to have once heard their voices and listened to their thoughts, now posted in the center and heard in the interpretive movies offered at the Beringia Center.

“LOTS OF DANGEROUS ANIMALS…”

Just how long ago some of these creatures died out is not known for sure, but elders from Old Crow, such as Sarah Abel and Charlie Peter Charlie, all say that their ancestors recall a time when the animals were much larger. “Our fathers,” said Ms. Abel, “all say animals much bigger when they hunted.” Then she starts in on a story about a huge beaver.

Peter Charlie (a man I photographed several years ago) agree that animals were much bigger: “First I’ll tell you,” said Peter Charlie, is that long, long ago, lots of dangerous animals lived here long ago.” What’s implied in all this, of course, is that animals have been decreasing in size for the past few thousands years.

Life-like figures depicting ancient scene at Blue Fish Caves (two Nikon SB-800 Strobes).

Over the years I’ve photographed both of these individuals on various occasions. However, the last time I photographed Ms. Abel was in 1998, and sadly she died the following year. At the time, some say she was 103 or 104 (in those times no one kept records), but what is so remarkable is that her life spanned one century, touched another and, and then, finally, almost–but not quite–ended in another.

Janie and I met both Peter-Charlie and Sarah Able following a several week-long boat trip up the Porcupine River to the small village of Old Crow. (The trip was part of a four-month trip along the Yukon and Porcupine rivers.) At the time, we knew we had entered a remote country, but we did not realize that Old Crow was a part of this ancient land mass known as Beringia. Perhaps we should have known, as several natives showed us huge tusks taken from along the banks of the Porcupine and the nearby Old Crow River.

Atlatl

Interpretations of all this is what you’ll find at the Beringia Center, and is one of the main reasons Janie and I again stopped in Whitehorse. Included are panels showing people from Old Crow; life-size models that look extremely real of an ancient people dressing out a caribou. All of this is back-dropped by Blue Fish Caves, which is also reached from along the Porcupine River. This is an ancient and, essentially, untouched land.

THE ATLATL

The Center also offers personal involvement, and Brad, one of the naturalists, allowed us to try our skills with the atlatl, an ancient hunting devise that takes a spear, then links it to a lever arm which increases the thrust by several times of the spear. The image I’ve included here shows the setup and was taken from a free site featuring the atlatl.

Trying my hand throwing atlatl, an ancient weapon.

Others spectators tried it, but I’m very happy to say that I optimized the lever arm better than did others, enabling my spear to travel further. My conclusion is that I was born in the wrong age, and am now awaiting the return of this ancient landscape. Of course, it’s all a dream, but I can come close by returning to Old Crow–or by visiting the Beringia Center in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Badlands

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©Bert Gildart: All across the wetlands of eastern Montana, the American Avocet has returned, has laid its eggs and is ushering its young into the world. These are colorful birds and you will recognize them the moment you see them.

Colorful Avocet has returned to Montana's prairie wetlands.

Because they are wading birds, they have long, thin gray legs, which give the species its colloquial name, “blue shanks.” Plumage is black and white on the back with white on the underbelly. But setting it off in the summer is the bird’s orange-colored head.

The other conspicuous feature is the long, thin bill which is upturned at the end. This feature helps the avocet locate food, something that is fascinating to watch and which I have seen often. Inserting beaks into the marsh, the avocet will stir the water, creating as they do a mini cyclone effect which draws aquatic insects up from the bottom.

PRECOCIAL YOUNG

Unlike the pelican of several posts ago, young of this species are fully capable of foraging for themselves shortly after hatching. Such birds are referred to as precocial.

Avocet young are precocial, meaning they are completley mobile shortly after hatching.

Pelican young, on the other hand, are helpless when hatched and require weeks of care before they can fend for themselves. Such birds are referred to as altricial.

Like the pelican, avocet nests on open ground, often in small groups, sometimes with other waders. A pair will rear one brood per season, with both male and female providing parental care for the young.

Because summers on the prairie can be so short, the time to enjoy this species in now, for all too soon, it will head south, taking with it that colorful splash of orange that helps add color to a setting that might otherwise be quite drab.

PHOTO TECHNIQUES

These photographs could not have been made without the use of a photographic blind. I made these photos several years ago at the Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge over a period of a couple of days.

First I erected the movable blind some distance from the nesting pair, and then gradually inched forward until I was close enough for the birds to fill the viewfinder of my Hasselblad camera and the 500mm lens I was using at the time. Later, the images were used for a book I wrote on Montana Wildlife, used by several professors for their classes in wildlife management at local universities. Images such as these continue to sell through several photo agents who market my work.

NEWS NOTES:

About five more days until departure for Alaska, which will take us along the world-famous Alcan Highway. We’ll be providing extensive coverage. Obviously we’re excited and have made plans to see many of our Native friends. While there I’ll be covering the World Eskimo Indian Olympics. As well, we’ll be hiking the Chilkoot Pass.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Kayaking Can Extend RV Adventures

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