Lonely French Canadian explorers.

Continuing in the spirit of adventure and exploration, after I visited the Oregon Coast, I made my way East, (for the first time in 5 months), and slightly North, up to Washington state to visit a friend working on fisheries research on the Columbia River. When I arrived we immediately set out for a short jaunt to one of many local waterfalls, apparently in Big Foot country, and then came back and ate an excellent dinner of home made ribs. The next morning we set out again, this time for a slightly longer hike (6 miles... not 15 minutes...), to get some views of Mt. Adams, and Mt. Hood. It was a little hazy that morning, probably due to wildfires, but the view was still pretty amazing. And the plethora of huckleberries we found along the trail didn't hurt morale either. Getting back from the hike and making (banana) pancakes with those fresh berries was awesome.


I left that afternoon, and arrived the next afternoon outside of Yellowstone National Park. Of course, at 1:30 in the afternoon all the camping spots in the park were full. As a result I camped outside of the park in National Forest land. After spending two nights in the park, besides the inconvenience of being slightly further away from all the sights, the national forest was a much nicer place to camp, (and was cheaper.)

Driving into the park I immediately encountered wildlife. A minor traffic jam was created due to about 4 elk doe and two fawn browsing along a creek. After taking pictures, I moved on, and found even more elk.


After seeing some of the more touristy spots in the park (meaning people just drove up, hopped out of their cars for approximately 5 minutes, then jumped back in again), I was getting sick of the crowds. So I set out on a little 6 mile round trip hike to Shoshone Lake, the largest back country lake in the US. It took me about an hour to hike out on the flat trail. I lazed about on the beach and wading in the water for an hour, then hiked the hour back.



It was the perfect recuperation for the mad crowd at Old Faithful. You can't go to Yellowstone and not see Old Faithful.



That evening, while driving to my campsite, I spotted this beautiful rainbow over Yellowstone Lake.


That evening at my campsite, I made made friends with my neighbors, two girls from NY State, one in grad school, the other a high school shop teacher, who were making their way around the country on a 3 week, National Park tour. We sat around the campfire for hours, exchanging fieldwork, and other stories.

The next morning I woke up and made my way over the Continental Divide within the park to hike Avalanche Peak, a 10,600 foot knife-edged mountain in the North East of the park. I figured a 2 mile hike up couldn't be that bad... I thought it might even be faster than the Shoshone Lake hike the day before. As soon as I started hiking I quickly re-evaluated that thought... I had forgotten to think about the fact that I would be gaining over 2,000 feet in elevation in those two miles. The work was well worth it though, as I sat on the summit, eating my lunch, while taking in views of other peaks in the area and watching a rainstorm blow in over Yellowstone Lake.


That afternoon I made my way to "The Grand Canyon" of Yellowstone, and took in the 100 foot Upper, and 300 foot Lower falls in the Canyon.


The hike up Avalanche Peak, and the approximately 300 steps from the viewpoint at Lower Falls, was a warm up for what I would tackle the next day... The Middle Teton in Grand Teton National Park, just South of Yellowstone.


I ended up getting a later start than I wanted, (Lost my old watch, bought a new one, and apparently didn't figure out how to set the alarm), so I didn't make the whole 17 mile round trip, but I did get the 13 mile round trip up to the lower saddle, between Nez Perce Peak, and the Middle Teton. This put me at 11,692 feet after about 5 hours of hiking. I plowed through the first 4 miles up. Hiking nearly every day in Sheldon didn't hurt my condition. But the higher in elevation that I got, the steeper the trail got, and the thinner the air. Where we were living on Sheldon we were at at least 6,000 feet all summer, so I had that going for me. But I started to feel it when I got to the Moraine region of the mountain, while hiking up next to the Middle Teton Glacier.


How exhausted I was at the end of the day was well worth the beautiful views from the Lower Saddle.

"Ocian in view! O! The Joy!"

So after some frenzied job searching while visiting the cites of Corvallis and Portland OR, I have come to the conclusion that I need to head back east. I had multiple conversations with potential employers, and just people around the city that said they didn't want to hire someone for just 3 months. However, the good news is, that I know if I decide to get some culture for a while and move to a city, Portland is a good bet for me. (And a pretty sweet place.)

Just the three days that I spent in Portland I got to experience some of its character. One of the first nights there Matt and I went to check out "Last Thursday." Last Thursday is a gathering of local artists and musicians, out on the street at night, selling their work, and performing their music. The street was not shut down, but it might as well have been. The place was crawling with people. People looking at the art, performing music, walking around on stilts, riding modified bicycles that were about 10 feet tall, and juggling fire. While there I bought a necklace from a guy with some of the most intense facial piercings I've ever seen. The next night Matt and I were invited to a pot luck dinner/ blue grass jam session by an old friend of Matt's from when he lived in Portland. The next morning I went out on my bicycle to explore the city and run some job search related errands. I decided to head toward the East Bank Esplanade, and discovered that the Red Bull Flugtag was happening. The best I can make of the goal of Flugtag is just to make some kind of silly vehicle, that may or may not operate a bit like a glider plane, and run it off a ramp into the river to see how far you can glide. Awards are given for distance, and favorite team. Ridiculous vehicles and costumes are more common place than highly technical engineered marvels.


When I decided that it was time to make my decision, and come back East, I knew I still had one thing to do. I made a pact with myself that I would not return home without dipping my feet in the Pacific Ocean. So, I headed for Canon Beach OR from Portland. After a short drive I made it to Ecola State Park, where I parked... Then hiked just over a mile on a pretty steep trail to get Access to Crescent Beach. (The only access is via that hike, so there weren't many people there at all.) I spent a few hours watching the waves and the birds nesting on the rock formations out in the surf, took a little cat nap while listening to the waves, then decided it was time to get a move on when the incoming tide threatened my comfort.



The hike to the beach was well worth it just for that relaxing afternoon, but it was doubly worth it when I discovered a banana slug! (No, I did not kiss it. I have to draw the line somewhere.)



After Canon I made my way down the Oregon Coast on Route 101 for a bit, taking in the views and small ocean side towns along the way. I camped right on the Pacific at Lookout Point State Park, where I watched the sun set into the Ocean before passing out in my sweet new tent.

Good bye Sheldon.

The end of my second field season in Sheldon National Wildlife Refuge is upon us all, and I'm feeling bittersweet about it. I'm going to miss waking up and falling asleep in the sagebrush... but I'm looking forward to the next thing. Whatever it is. I have a winter bird banding internship lined up for Nov. through March, and I'm currently searching for a field job to tide me over until then. I realized last night that besides New Hampshire and North Carolina (the latter not really counting), I've lived the longest out in the boonies of Sheldon NWR. I am rather attached to it.

We had a crew BBQ at Badger cabin a few nights ago, and Jan, Ben and I dressed up. Jan and I in skirts, because we were feeling a little deprived of occasions to get a little bit girly. The guys on the crew were a little taken aback to see us in something besides Carhartts and a t-shirt.

Here's a few shots from the night:

Our half eaten watermelon...



Adam the grillmaster...



Berti making burger art...





Music for the night...


I'm going to miss it... I will be back to visit someday.

Road Trippin'

Last week marked a transition period in the Sheldon time schedule. We’ve moved our focus to mainly vegetation analysis… the end of the season is fast approaching (only 2 weeks now.) But before we took the plunge into veg season we took a non-typical 2 days off. Jan and I decided that with this sizeable chunk of time, being the rock deprived climbers that we are, we would make a road trip out of it, and head somewhere to get some ripped up fingers and new bruises.
The night before our 2 day vacation began we made the short hour drive to Cedarville CA to eat dinner and use the internet at the Surprise Café (awesome place that everyone should visit if they are ever in the area.) But, being a Sunday night the Café was closed… however, they were nice enough to leave the wireless on, and a powercable running outside so we could sit on the porch and still get online. (Cedarville CA is a small town. Jan left her cell phone out on the porch there for 15 minutes while we went somewhere else, and it was still there when we got back…) So we looked up the phone numbers of some gear shops and climbing gyms in the general area of where we had heard there was climbing, then I got on the phone and started asking strangers questions. This is less weird than it sounds, and also extremely productive if you get a climber on the other end of the line. Climbers love to talk about climbing. And in general, are some of the friendliest people I know.
So I made a few fruitless phone calls, one where the phone must have been passed to about 5 people before someone informed me of a “climb” that was really just a rock scramble. We finally hit the jackpot when I called the Red Point gear shop in Bend Oregon. As soon as the person on the other end of the line said hello I knew that this would be an informative call… you can just tell sometimes. (The tone of voice, the laid back attitude, must be a climber.) I told them what kind of climbing Jan and I were looking for, and he proceeded to list off about 10 places around Bend (including Smith Rock of course). Needless to say I was a bit overwhelmed, and when I pressed for more specifics he told me, “Well, I’m planning on going climbing tomorrow. I’ll give you my cell number so that if you and your friend decide to come up, you can just give me a call.” I happily agreed, and Josh and I met over the phone.
After a dinner across the street at the Country Hearth, Jan and I hopped into the Slugmobile, plugged in the iPod, put on some LCD Soundsystem, and began to rock out while we drove over the pass towards Alturas CA, then Klamath Falls OR, on towards Bend. After an unmeasured amount of time driving, we pulled off onto a national forest dirt road somewhere outside of Chemult Oregon. We found a nice campsite in the pines, set up the tent, (no fly, so we could star gaze), and settled in for the night. The next morning we awoke slightly later than bird time at 6 am, made some breakfast on the whisperlite, and were on the road again by 7 am. We arrived in Bend at 8 am, and attempted to visit the REI. Which was closed. So after waiting a bit, so as not to disturb our climbing contacts too early, I gave Josh a call. I told him where we were, and we made a plan to meet up in a few minutes.
Having a local show you the climbing spots is really the best way to go. Being the manager of the gear shop near Smith Rock, and a local climbing guru it seems, Josh showed us some sweet spots where we only saw about 6 other climbers the whole time. That is besides his brother and friend who also joined us. (Not that more climbers can’t be fun… but it is nice to not have to wait for anything that you want to try.) We got some great top roping in on some cracks, Jan learned how to set some trad gear, and I got a few more bruises and cuts. And that was the first day.



That evening Josh showed us a cool bouldering spot right along the Deschutes River that also had some great “tide pools” that you could soak in. Basically these pools were just areas of the river that were sheltered enough by the big boulders that the river was rushing over to slow it down so you could not be carried away by the current. Jan and I did some swimming, saw a Dipper, and then made our way back to the Slugmobile to drive to our camp for the night.



Because Jan and I are awesome when we do anything outside we had fresh Cod and grilled asparagus on the whisperlite for dinner. Yes, it is possible on a whisperlite. And it was delicious.
The next morning we woke up again, slightly later than bird time, and made our way back to the bouldering spot on the Deschutes by 9 am. We worked on a traverse for a while, then just bouldered around with Josh for a bit before we ate an early lunch, soaking our feet in the river, exchanged e-mails, and goodbyes, and made our way to the Bend public library for some internetting before heading back the 7 hour drive to Sheldon.



The drive back was quite eventful. The Slugmoblie hit 100,000 miles (so naturally I stopped the car, and made Jan take a picture), I interviewed for a job, and caught up with Kirsten. We also made it across the CA/ OR border with a cooler full of produce in the trunk. (Apparently the only thing you have to worry about at the random inspection stations is cherries and corn.) We made it back to Sheldon at about 10 pm… I think… I may have been slightly braindead at that point, hit the sack, and got up the next morning to veg our brains out. And that was vacation.

I'm on vacation.

So I'm currently on my 2 day vacation from Sheldon. As a result, I am not updating my blog this week... next week I promise good stories (and pictures) about The Climbing Road Trip 2008.

Sunrise, sunset, swiftly go the days...

It’s been nearly two months since I arrived on Sheldon this season… and I just turned 23 (yikes.) Although, I know, I really should not be complaining about that. I think it’s just that there’s so much that I want to do and time just seems to fly by. (Note: the above picture is of a sunrise, not sunset. You tend to be up early when work starts 20 minutes after sunrise…)

I’ve finished up my point counting duties of the season, besides the vegetation analysis on my share of the points, and have moved back to nest searching. Things are really busy out on plot. In the past 3 days I’ve found multiple Brewers Sparrow nests, a Vespers Sparrow nest with a Brown Headed Cowbird egg in it, a Rock Wren nest, and most likely today a Spotted Towhee nest.



That’s the Vespers nest with the BHCO egg… quite a difference. It will be interesting to see what happens to this nest if it isn’t predated.

Since this year has been wetter than it was last year there has been a plethora of ticks. More so than the population that seemed to be running rampant last year. It’s always entertaining to see someone when they realize that they have a tick crawling on them somewhere. The methods of dealing with the offending blood sucking insect vary by where the tick happens to be making its way around on your body, searching for a nice place to bite down. On your stomach? No problem, a quick lift of the shirt and pick off is standard. In your pants? A bit more complicated. If the tick is below the knee, it’s easy enough to just pull a pant leg up and pick it off. However, if it has made its way higher (which they frequently do), You’ve got to go find a more private spot to remove the stow away. One afternoon I made the short jaunt down to our wall tent to remove one unwelcome guest, and had just finished, when Jan came bombing down to the tent, zipped up the fly, unzipped her fly, and pulled down her pants, pulling one off in nearly the same place I had just removed one from. We’ve all got our favorite methods of killing them. I particularly enjoy burning them if some matches are handy… watching their little bodies turn to a crisp and their legs curl up… But a pen is my most frequently employed method. Just stick it on your clipboard, and apply pressure. I just can’t bring myself to squeeze them between my fingernails. Keith recently developed a new method for dealing with the offenders. When out in the field one day he stumbled across a hill of the most vicious ants on the refuge, who, were apparently in a feeding frenzy, and had somehow taken down a cicada. (Which is probably about 20 times their size.) Then he discovered a tick on himself. So he threw it to the wolves. The ants would rip off a few limbs, or an antennae, before realizing that the tick was not good eating, and move on. With the whole swarm working on the tick I doubt it lasted too long.

Ticks, feral horses, vicious ants, and mountain lions aren’t the only things we need to be wary of on the refuge. We also need to watch out for the outhouse door, or as we affectionately refer to it, “The Spa.” One afternoon when it was still cool enough to nap in the afternoon in the wall tents everybody was settling down for a little siesta. All the guys were snug on their cots, and I was just settling into my own for a mid afternoon’s rest, when out in the spa arose such a clatter…. I poked my head out of our tent, and saw that the wooden latch on the spa door had somehow fallen from vertical to horizontal. Trapping Jan inside. (I let her out… don’t worry.) This clearly is not something that you want to ever happen to you. Especially if you’re alone at the cabin at the time, or in the middle of the night. Ben and I decided that if either of those situations arose we would sacrifice the spa door for our sanity. (Did I mention it’s starting to heat up out here?) On that note, here are some pictures of pretty wildflowers…



And horses when they were not threatening to run me over.

Only a 2 km hike out? SWEET!

I'll be finished my half of the point counting for the season on the 23rd. Then Matt takes back over, and I move back to nest searching. Things are really going off now. Both wildflowers, and nests. Yesterday when doing a vegetation analysis transect on a point my 50m transect tape nearly ended on a Green Tailed Towhee nest. I politely moved out of there ASAP so she could hop back on her eggs.

Last week Jan, Ben, and I took our weekly town trip on our last day of work before a day off. That way we had our whole day off to do whatever we wanted. So, naturally, we slept in until 8:30 (yes, that is sleeping in, and not much more is possible when the sun comes up and turns the tents into convection ovens.) Then we ate a big breakfast and lazed about the cabin. Ate lunch. Then hopped into Jan's car and drove to Thousand Creek Canyon, which is about 45 minutes from where we live on the refuge.



We went exploring in there for the afternoon, scrambling on rocks, soaking our feet in the water (by accident on my part, intentionally on Jan's), catching cool herps, and just soaking up the sun and relaxing.











After our jaunt in the canyon we fueled up in Denio Junction. (Which is always spectacular, being seemingly the only young women in a 100 mile radius, showing up at a gas station/ bar/ restauraunt on a Friday evening is interesting.)



Then we made our way to Bog Hot where we partook of some warm water soaking and white wine drinking as the sun set. All in all it was a great way to spend a day off.