If I was going to throw mist net poles... where would I throw them?

The above question guided us to the location of our poles this past week at our offsite banding station at Pine Gulch. We had originally planned on being at the station the previous day... but it was too windy to band. So nets were closed up and disassembled. Normally we set out ropes and poles at Pine Gulch the night before we plan on banding there. This is because often in the past people walking through the park would steal our supplies. We thought that we could leave the poles and ropes out for one day and it would be fine. We hid them under leaves and in the shrubs. But apparently not well enough.

When we showed up the next morning Nora, Kathleen and I began setting up nets like usual... but were quickly foiled. Nora was the first to have a problem. Poles and ropes missing from net 4. Problems at net 5 soon followed. Next, net 1 was missing both sets of poles and all but one rope. things were looking rather complicated when I got to the last net I was setting up. At that net another set of poles and a rope was missing. That's when I spotted a rope attached to a big stick, flung into the blackberry brambles and stinging nettle patch. I waded in, and fished it out. Then I found the poles. Also thrown into a different thorny patch. I began to wonder if this was a pattern. Sure enough, back at net one I found poles and ropes flung into the thorny riparian vegetation. I radioed Nora with my findings, and we began the search for all our missing supplies. It took us about 3 hours of running around, searching for poles and ropes, between net runs, to get all the nets up. By far the best (or worse), location of lost poles was uncovered by Kathleen. While at net 5 she began to think... "If I were going to throw poles, where would I throw them for maximum satisfaction..." The unpleasant answer came quickly: "The creek! Splashes are AWESOME!" Sure enough, when she peered hesitantly over the side of the bridge, there they were. In the deepest part of the creek. So clear that you could see the number five written on them in sharpie. So in she waded. Over her boots. Needless to say, we were not amused. And being stung multiple times by stinging nettle did not enamor us any more to our pranksters.

It's that time of the season again. Nora and I are off tomorrow to our new jobs, and the birds are starting to get into breeding shape. (We've seen our first Brood Patches and Cloacal Protuberances on Song Sparrows...)The migrants are also starting to return. Orange-crowned Warblers can now be heard singing nearly every day. (And we caught two a few days ago!)



The Common Yellowthroats are back. I even spotted an early Wilson's Warbler recently. Western Scrub Jays are carrying nesting material and acting shady. Colin and Sayed have left, and the new Palo interns have started to arrive. It's time for the nomadic field biologist to migrate to new things. I am starting to feel an acute case of zugunruhe. Which is good, because I will very soon be off...

My ferry ticket is booked. I'll be making the trip out to Santa Cruz Island on the morning of the 17th, and will very soon be stalking Island Scrub Jays... locating their nests, banding their legs (and their babies' legs), taking blood samples, and of course, feeding them peanuts.