Over the past few weeks, a thick layer of putrid algae has been accumulating along canals and estuaries in Southeast Florida, centered near Stuart. This unnatural scourge is threatening both the local economy and the welfare of regional wildlife.
The culprit is polluted water in Lake Okeechobee which, during periods of heavy rain, is released into the upper watersheds of adjacent rivers to relieve pressure an an aging dike; the St. Lucie and Caloosahatchee rivers receive the brunt of the runoff. Once the nutrient-rich freshwater mixes with sea water at the coast, an algal bloom is triggered, covering the shallows with a toxic carpet of noxious and unhealthy sludge. The only remedy is to cut off the flow of nitrogenous waste (primarily agricultural fertilizer) that fuels the bloom.
Repeated episodes have occurred over the years and politicians, at both the State and Federal levels, have stymied efforts to provide a solution (i.e. cleaning up Lake Okeechobee and expanding its basin to eliminate seasonal overflow). While the tragic effects of pollution are clearly evident in this case, much of human-induced pollution across the globe goes unnoticed for extended periods of time, destroying ecosystems and poisoning wildlife long before the effects become evident. The warnings of conservationists are often ridiculed by polluting industries (and the politicians whom they fund) until species are lost, fisheries are decimated and our natural environment is forever changed.
Showing posts with label rivers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rivers. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 July 2016
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Fish Crow at Eagle Bluffs
While surveying a large pool at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, I heard a familiar call that echoed from over my left shoulder. Turning to locate its source, I saw a crow flying across an open marsh, being chased by a trio of red-winged blackbirds.
The crow's call reminded me of lazy afternoons on the seawall at Longboat Key, Florida. Indeed, this was a fish crow, more often associated with southern coasts but now increasingly common along the larger rivers of the eastern and central U.S. Like their widespread cousin, the American crow, fish crows are omnivores, feeding on waste grain, berries, seeds, insects, bird eggs, stranded fish, small lizards, small mammals, carrion and human food waste; in fact, they are among the most relentless predators of eggs and nestlings at heronries and sea bird rookeries.
Distinguished from American crows by their slightly smaller size and distinctive, higher-pitched "nasal" call (contrasting with the harsh, raucous voice of their widespread cousins), fish crows generally gather in large flocks and move toward coastal estuaries during the colder months. Until then, I and my birding colleagues along the Missouri River will lend an ear to their presence and enjoy a bit of audio from the coast in the American Heartland.
The crow's call reminded me of lazy afternoons on the seawall at Longboat Key, Florida. Indeed, this was a fish crow, more often associated with southern coasts but now increasingly common along the larger rivers of the eastern and central U.S. Like their widespread cousin, the American crow, fish crows are omnivores, feeding on waste grain, berries, seeds, insects, bird eggs, stranded fish, small lizards, small mammals, carrion and human food waste; in fact, they are among the most relentless predators of eggs and nestlings at heronries and sea bird rookeries.
Distinguished from American crows by their slightly smaller size and distinctive, higher-pitched "nasal" call (contrasting with the harsh, raucous voice of their widespread cousins), fish crows generally gather in large flocks and move toward coastal estuaries during the colder months. Until then, I and my birding colleagues along the Missouri River will lend an ear to their presence and enjoy a bit of audio from the coast in the American Heartland.
Friday, 24 June 2016
Flooding in Appalachia
Yesterday afternoon and evening, a line of strong thunderstorms stretched across the Appalachians, from the Ohio River Valley to south-central Virginia. Aligned along a stationary front and steered by the jet stream, the storms "trained" over the same areas, unleashing torrential rain (up to 9 inches in some locations).
Falling on the dissected terrain of the Appalachian Plateau and the Ridge and Valley topography west of the Blue Ridge, the copious precipitation drained rapidly from the steep ridges to the primary river valleys; mudslides and valley floods were the result, most severe in southeastern West Virginia and adjacent sections of Virginia. Unfortunately, most Appalachian towns lie within the valleys and widespread damage has been reported.
Flash flooding is especially dangerous in mountainous terrain since it develops rapidly and escape routes are often limited. Those living in or visiting such regions are thus advised to heed weather forecasts and take note of potential routes to higher ground; multiple routes should be considered since some roads may be closed due to high water or mudslides. Beautiful as it may be in sunny weather, mountainous terrain poses unique risks when thunderstorms approach, even when heavy rains fall far upstream.
Falling on the dissected terrain of the Appalachian Plateau and the Ridge and Valley topography west of the Blue Ridge, the copious precipitation drained rapidly from the steep ridges to the primary river valleys; mudslides and valley floods were the result, most severe in southeastern West Virginia and adjacent sections of Virginia. Unfortunately, most Appalachian towns lie within the valleys and widespread damage has been reported.
Flash flooding is especially dangerous in mountainous terrain since it develops rapidly and escape routes are often limited. Those living in or visiting such regions are thus advised to heed weather forecasts and take note of potential routes to higher ground; multiple routes should be considered since some roads may be closed due to high water or mudslides. Beautiful as it may be in sunny weather, mountainous terrain poses unique risks when thunderstorms approach, even when heavy rains fall far upstream.
Sunday, 5 June 2016
Glacial Lake Modoc
During the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, a large lake formed east of the Cascades in southern Oregon and northeastern California. Known today as Glacial Lake Modoc, it had a surface area of 1100 square miles; its surface was 100 feet higher than that of Upper Klamath Lake, its largest remnant. Tule Lake and Lower Klamath Lake and their adjacent wetlands are also remnants of Lake Modoc, which extended eastward along the Lost River Valley and northward along the Wood, Williamson and Sprague Rivers that now feed Upper Klamath Lake.
Current geologic evidence suggests that the Upper Klamath Basin formed as a vast graben, divided by north-south trending fault-block ridges. Glacial meltwater from the Cascades balanced outflow through the Klamath River which carved a spectacular canyon through the Northern Coastal Ranges of California to reach the Pacific.
Toward the end of the Pleistocene, as the climate warmed, the mountain glaciers retreated, inflow to Lake Modoc diminished and the lake level fell, exposing vast wetlands between the remnant lakes. Of course, once European settlers colonized the region, wetlands were drained, rivers were dammed and tributaries were diverted for irrigation, producing the landscape that we find today. Fortunately, some recovery has occurred with the establishment of the Lower Klamath, Tule Lake and Clear Lake National Wildlife Refuges and spectacular congregations of migrant waterfowl and shorebirds still visit the Basin.
Current geologic evidence suggests that the Upper Klamath Basin formed as a vast graben, divided by north-south trending fault-block ridges. Glacial meltwater from the Cascades balanced outflow through the Klamath River which carved a spectacular canyon through the Northern Coastal Ranges of California to reach the Pacific.
Toward the end of the Pleistocene, as the climate warmed, the mountain glaciers retreated, inflow to Lake Modoc diminished and the lake level fell, exposing vast wetlands between the remnant lakes. Of course, once European settlers colonized the region, wetlands were drained, rivers were dammed and tributaries were diverted for irrigation, producing the landscape that we find today. Fortunately, some recovery has occurred with the establishment of the Lower Klamath, Tule Lake and Clear Lake National Wildlife Refuges and spectacular congregations of migrant waterfowl and shorebirds still visit the Basin.
Saturday, 4 June 2016
The Asian Carp Invasion
On my walks around Landen Lake this week (a small suburban lake north of Cincinnati), I have been repeatedly reminded that the Asian carp invasion is a significant problem throughout the Mississippi River watershed. Introduced in the 1970s to control aquatic vegetation and to filter sewage water, they escaped containment areas during floods and have spread throughout most of the U.S. Favoring shallow, sluggish waters, they often attract our attention as they thrash about, their dorsal and tail fins breaking the surface.
Represented by four species (grass, black, silver and bighead carp) these large fish are very prolific and soon dominate the aquatic ecosystems that they colonize; black carp, which feed on mollusks, threaten native snail, mussel and clam populations while the others reduce the availability of plankton and vegetation vital to native fish, amphibians and aquatic reptiles. As video enthusiasts know, silver carp also pose a threat to boaters, jumping into the air (and into boats) in response to the sound of outboard motors.
Concerned that Asian carp will enter the Great Lakes and disrupt the ecology of their fisheries, efforts have been made to block carp migration along canals that connect those Lakes with streams of the Mississippi watershed; "electric fences" have been used with some success but carp also spread as eggs or fingerlings on boat hulls, via the use of live bait, during floods and perhaps even on the legs of wading birds. Taking advantage of the carp bonanza, some companies are culling them to produce pet food or fertilizer; vultures also partake of the bounty, feasting on dead carp that were stranded by shrinking lakes or rivers.
Represented by four species (grass, black, silver and bighead carp) these large fish are very prolific and soon dominate the aquatic ecosystems that they colonize; black carp, which feed on mollusks, threaten native snail, mussel and clam populations while the others reduce the availability of plankton and vegetation vital to native fish, amphibians and aquatic reptiles. As video enthusiasts know, silver carp also pose a threat to boaters, jumping into the air (and into boats) in response to the sound of outboard motors.
Concerned that Asian carp will enter the Great Lakes and disrupt the ecology of their fisheries, efforts have been made to block carp migration along canals that connect those Lakes with streams of the Mississippi watershed; "electric fences" have been used with some success but carp also spread as eggs or fingerlings on boat hulls, via the use of live bait, during floods and perhaps even on the legs of wading birds. Taking advantage of the carp bonanza, some companies are culling them to produce pet food or fertilizer; vultures also partake of the bounty, feasting on dead carp that were stranded by shrinking lakes or rivers.
Wednesday, 1 June 2016
Brazos River Flooding
The Brazos River forms on the Llano Estacado at the junction of its Salt and Double Mountain Forks, northwest of Rule, Texas; it then flows northeastward to Seymour before angling southeast toward the Gulf of Mexico. En route to the Gulf, the river passes through three major reservoirs: Possum Kingdom Lake, Lake Granbury and Lake Whitney; it also flows through Waco, passes west of College Station and flows west of Houston before emptying into the Gulf of Mexico at Freeport, Texas.
While the Brazos itself is 840 miles long, its watershed stretches back to eastern New Mexico; from its most distant tributary to its mouth, the River's watershed is 1280 miles in length, making it the 11th longest stream in the United States. Over the past few weeks, heavy rainfall across the Brazos watershed has led to severe flooding, especially below the above mentioned reservoirs. Not designed for flood control, these lakes must be partly drained as they fill in order to prevent catastrophic dam collapse.
As of this morning, the Brazos crested at 54.6 feet in Richmond, Texas (southwest of Houston), shattering a Century-old record by almost 4.5 feet; unfortunately, more rain is forecast across the watershed in the coming days. To date, at least 6 individuals have been killed by the flooding and 31 Texas Counties have been declared disaster areas. See also Texas: Land of Drought & Flood.
While the Brazos itself is 840 miles long, its watershed stretches back to eastern New Mexico; from its most distant tributary to its mouth, the River's watershed is 1280 miles in length, making it the 11th longest stream in the United States. Over the past few weeks, heavy rainfall across the Brazos watershed has led to severe flooding, especially below the above mentioned reservoirs. Not designed for flood control, these lakes must be partly drained as they fill in order to prevent catastrophic dam collapse.
As of this morning, the Brazos crested at 54.6 feet in Richmond, Texas (southwest of Houston), shattering a Century-old record by almost 4.5 feet; unfortunately, more rain is forecast across the watershed in the coming days. To date, at least 6 individuals have been killed by the flooding and 31 Texas Counties have been declared disaster areas. See also Texas: Land of Drought & Flood.
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Through Riverless Terrain
Leaving Ely, Nevada, this morning, we headed east on US 50; our first stop was Great Basin National Park, in the Snake Range, just west of the Utah Border; details regarding the Park are provided in the linked post. Today, a deep snow pack closed the Wheeler Peak road at Mather Overlook (just above 9000 feet) but we enjoyed broad views of the Park and adjacent landscape. We then took a hike along South Baker Creek before setting out across the beautiful but arid lands of the Great Basin.
One of the highlights of that journey was the vast but dry bed of Sevier Lake; filled to the brim during the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, the lake is now a sink, fed by the fickle flow of several basin rivers that have been mostly dammed or diverted. After crossing Interstate 15, we climbed along US 50 to merge with Interstate 70 and then crossed the massive hump of the Wasatch Plateau; beyond this high ridge the highway winds through some of the most scenic topography in North America (if not on the planet) where eroded beds of late Paleozoic and Mesozoic sedimentary rocks line the road. After dropping through the Waterpocket Fold, we crossed the Green River, completing our loop through Utah, Nevada and California.
Looking down at that River, it occurred to me that this tributary of the Colorado was the first stream of any size that we had crossed since leaving Mono Lake; indeed, the West Fork of the Walker River, north of that lake was the last river that I had encountered. Such is the nature of the Great Basin: two days of driving through magnificent but riverless terrain.
One of the highlights of that journey was the vast but dry bed of Sevier Lake; filled to the brim during the cool, wet climate of the Pleistocene, the lake is now a sink, fed by the fickle flow of several basin rivers that have been mostly dammed or diverted. After crossing Interstate 15, we climbed along US 50 to merge with Interstate 70 and then crossed the massive hump of the Wasatch Plateau; beyond this high ridge the highway winds through some of the most scenic topography in North America (if not on the planet) where eroded beds of late Paleozoic and Mesozoic sedimentary rocks line the road. After dropping through the Waterpocket Fold, we crossed the Green River, completing our loop through Utah, Nevada and California.
Looking down at that River, it occurred to me that this tributary of the Colorado was the first stream of any size that we had crossed since leaving Mono Lake; indeed, the West Fork of the Walker River, north of that lake was the last river that I had encountered. Such is the nature of the Great Basin: two days of driving through magnificent but riverless terrain.
Tuesday, 17 May 2016
Back in the Basin
Since the high passes through the Sierra Nevada remain closed due to a heavy snowpack, downed trees and rock slides, we backtracked to U.S. 50 last evening and spent the night in Carson City, Nevada. This morning, we traveled south on Route 395, along the eastern base of the mountains, headed for Mono Lake; approaching that famous remnant of the Pleistocene, we re-entered California, ascended along the West Fork of the Walker River, descended into the basin of Bridgeport Reservoir and then climbed onto the northern rim of the Mono Lake basin where we enjoyed a fabulous panorama of the lake and its surroundings. For more details on the lake and its history, see the above link.
Stopping at the Visitor Center and three public access sites along the edge of the lake, we explored the tufa (calcium carbonate) formations and surveyed the open waters where thousands of eared grebes fed on brine shrimp; during the autumn migration, up to 1.8 million of these diving birds stop to rest and feed on Mono Lake. Two pair of ospreys are currently nesting on the tufa formations but must travel to other regional lakes to catch fish, which cannot survive in the alkaline waters of Mono. Other sightings included hundreds of California gulls and a single pair of ruddy ducks; according to local birders that we met, avocets, black-necked stilts and phalaropes, regular migrants and summer residents at Mono Lake, have not yet arrived.
Heading east across the Great Basin, we passed the northern end of the magnificent White Mountains; Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada, is at the northeast end of that Range. Continuing along U.S. 6, we crossed the stark beauty of of central Nevada; the highlight proved to be the broad, scenic Railroad Valley, southwest of Ely, where Blue Eagle Peak rises along its eastern rim and Currant Mountain anchors its northern end. After a night in Ely, we plan to visit Great Basin National Park and then head for Colorado.
Stopping at the Visitor Center and three public access sites along the edge of the lake, we explored the tufa (calcium carbonate) formations and surveyed the open waters where thousands of eared grebes fed on brine shrimp; during the autumn migration, up to 1.8 million of these diving birds stop to rest and feed on Mono Lake. Two pair of ospreys are currently nesting on the tufa formations but must travel to other regional lakes to catch fish, which cannot survive in the alkaline waters of Mono. Other sightings included hundreds of California gulls and a single pair of ruddy ducks; according to local birders that we met, avocets, black-necked stilts and phalaropes, regular migrants and summer residents at Mono Lake, have not yet arrived.
Heading east across the Great Basin, we passed the northern end of the magnificent White Mountains; Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada, is at the northeast end of that Range. Continuing along U.S. 6, we crossed the stark beauty of of central Nevada; the highlight proved to be the broad, scenic Railroad Valley, southwest of Ely, where Blue Eagle Peak rises along its eastern rim and Currant Mountain anchors its northern end. After a night in Ely, we plan to visit Great Basin National Park and then head for Colorado.
Monday, 16 May 2016
Assault on Yosemite
As we left Oakdale, California, this morning and headed east on Route 120, the high peaks of the Sierra Nevada shimmered across the eastern horizon, partly obscured by clouds. Leaving the flat landscape of the Central Valley, we climbed through hills of grass and oak savanna before ascending more steeply into the Sierra foothills. Charred forest, damaged by wildfire, was soon encountered along the road, extending into western portions of Yosemite National Park.
When we eventually rounded a curve and Half Dome appeared in the distance, I knew that my dream of visiting Yosemite was finally realized. Indeed, the Park's spectacular glacial valley, lined by the granite cliffs of El Capitan, Half Dome, North Dome and other well-known summits, drained by the beautiful Merced River and adorned by Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite Falls and other magnificent cascades, is one of the more inspiring sites on our planet.
Arriving on a Monday morning in mid May, we hoped to escape the summer crowds that descend on Yosemite and many other National Parks. Alas, the crowds were already there, parked along the roadways, congregating at overlooks and clogging popular trails; we, of course, contributed to the human assault. One wonders if our population has expanded beyond the point where landscapes as grand as Yosemite National Park cannot withstand the onslaught. It seems we must significantly curtail access if we are to protect these natural gems (or even to make them worth visiting).
When we eventually rounded a curve and Half Dome appeared in the distance, I knew that my dream of visiting Yosemite was finally realized. Indeed, the Park's spectacular glacial valley, lined by the granite cliffs of El Capitan, Half Dome, North Dome and other well-known summits, drained by the beautiful Merced River and adorned by Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite Falls and other magnificent cascades, is one of the more inspiring sites on our planet.
Arriving on a Monday morning in mid May, we hoped to escape the summer crowds that descend on Yosemite and many other National Parks. Alas, the crowds were already there, parked along the roadways, congregating at overlooks and clogging popular trails; we, of course, contributed to the human assault. One wonders if our population has expanded beyond the point where landscapes as grand as Yosemite National Park cannot withstand the onslaught. It seems we must significantly curtail access if we are to protect these natural gems (or even to make them worth visiting).
Saturday, 14 May 2016
Counting on the Coast
Today was designated Global Big Day by eBird, an effort to assess the health and diversity of avian populations across the planet. Since we planned a morning visit to Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, just south of Fort Bragg, California, I decided to submit my observations from that location.
As we walked through the fabulous gardens, more birds were heard than seen but the wide diversity of foliage attracted an excellent variety of species; in addition, since the gardens extend to cliffs above the Pacific, a number of sea birds were observed. Highlights of the morning count (which totaled 30 species) included pigeon guillemots, pelagic cormorants, Allen's hummingbird, olive-sided flycatchers, Steller's jays and a large number of white-crowned sparrows. While my contribution to Global Big Day was modest, I was honored to participate and certainly enjoyed the experience.
South of the Gardens, we visited a magnificent sand dunes ecosystem at Manchester State Park and enjoyed a long, scenic hike to sea cliffs at Salt Point State Park. Sea fog slowed our journey to Jenner where we turned inland, climbing along the beautiful Russian River; passing through the Coast Range, we escaped the fog and settled in a hotel room along Route 101. Tomorrow we plan to visit the Point Reyes National Seashore before heading into San Francisco.
As we walked through the fabulous gardens, more birds were heard than seen but the wide diversity of foliage attracted an excellent variety of species; in addition, since the gardens extend to cliffs above the Pacific, a number of sea birds were observed. Highlights of the morning count (which totaled 30 species) included pigeon guillemots, pelagic cormorants, Allen's hummingbird, olive-sided flycatchers, Steller's jays and a large number of white-crowned sparrows. While my contribution to Global Big Day was modest, I was honored to participate and certainly enjoyed the experience.
South of the Gardens, we visited a magnificent sand dunes ecosystem at Manchester State Park and enjoyed a long, scenic hike to sea cliffs at Salt Point State Park. Sea fog slowed our journey to Jenner where we turned inland, climbing along the beautiful Russian River; passing through the Coast Range, we escaped the fog and settled in a hotel room along Route 101. Tomorrow we plan to visit the Point Reyes National Seashore before heading into San Francisco.
Friday, 13 May 2016
A Kite, Whales and a Glass Beach
Early this morning, my wife and I visited the Humboldt Bay NWR, just south of Eureka, California. Once a vast saltwater marsh, the basin was later drained for agriculture and has since been restored for the benefit of resident and migrant water birds; riparian woodlands, cattail marshes, sloughs, lakes and tidal flats characterize the preserve. During our visit, we were fortunate to observe a white-tailed kite (formerly known as a black-shouldered kite), a beautiful and common resident of the refuge and a new "lifer" for me; we also encountered black phoebes, California quail and a large flock of marbled godwits.
After our visit to the refuge, we headed south on Route 101, climbing along the scenic valley of the Eel River and its South Fork. We then switched to Route 1, enduring countless hairpin turns as we crossed the Coastal Range. Emerging along the Pacific Coast, our patience was rewarded with spectacular seascapes all the way to Fort Bragg. Nearing that city, we turned into MacKerricher State Park, where we walked out to Seal Point and watched harbor seals as they lounged on the sea stacks or cruised the clear waters beneath the overlook. While observing the seals, my wife noticed "whale spouts" far out to sea; close inspection with my binoculars revealed four humpback whales, identified by the contour of their backs and by their habit of raising their massive flukes as they dove to feed. Needless to say, the sighting of these magnificent cetaceans was one of the highlights of our road trip to date.
But we could not end our day without visiting the "Glass Beach," in Fort Bragg. Once used as a city dump site, the beach was reclaimed by the sea which sorted and recycled the debris, leaving smooth pebbles of glass amidst the shells and sand. Once this beach of glass gained nationwide fame, visitors flocked to the site, walking off with samples of nature's handiwork. As too often characterizes man's relationship with nature, we first abuse her ecosystems and then take advantage of her restorative powers; alas, the glass of Glass Beach is rapidly disappearing.
After our visit to the refuge, we headed south on Route 101, climbing along the scenic valley of the Eel River and its South Fork. We then switched to Route 1, enduring countless hairpin turns as we crossed the Coastal Range. Emerging along the Pacific Coast, our patience was rewarded with spectacular seascapes all the way to Fort Bragg. Nearing that city, we turned into MacKerricher State Park, where we walked out to Seal Point and watched harbor seals as they lounged on the sea stacks or cruised the clear waters beneath the overlook. While observing the seals, my wife noticed "whale spouts" far out to sea; close inspection with my binoculars revealed four humpback whales, identified by the contour of their backs and by their habit of raising their massive flukes as they dove to feed. Needless to say, the sighting of these magnificent cetaceans was one of the highlights of our road trip to date.
But we could not end our day without visiting the "Glass Beach," in Fort Bragg. Once used as a city dump site, the beach was reclaimed by the sea which sorted and recycled the debris, leaving smooth pebbles of glass amidst the shells and sand. Once this beach of glass gained nationwide fame, visitors flocked to the site, walking off with samples of nature's handiwork. As too often characterizes man's relationship with nature, we first abuse her ecosystems and then take advantage of her restorative powers; alas, the glass of Glass Beach is rapidly disappearing.
Thursday, 12 May 2016
The Redwood Coast
The Siskiyou Mountains stretch from southwestern Oregon into northwestern California, separating the watershed of the Rogue River (to their north) from that of the Klamath River (to their south). This morning, we drove northwest from Medford, Oregon, descending through the Rogue River Valley; after crossing the Rogue at Grants Pass, we headed southwest on Route 199, climbing back through its watershed along the Applegate and Illinois Rivers, two of its major tributaries. Passing through the Collier Tunnel, we left the Rogue River watershed and entered that of the Smith River, which drains the southwestern end of the Siskiyous.
Descending along the Middle Fork of the Smith River, we stopped at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park and explored the Stout Grove, one of the more pristine and scenic stands of redwood forest in California; walking among those giants, their shade supporting a rich understory of ferns, one is both inspired and humbled. Moving on to Crescent City, we observed massive seabird colonies (mostly common murres) on Castle Rock and visited Point St. George where we encountered ospreys, black oystercatchers, whimbrels, black scoters, brown pelicans and a host of shorebirds; the highlight was provided by a peregrine falcon that swooped down at close range to snare an unwary sandpiper.
Heading south on Highway 101, we encountered herds of Roosevelt elk, drove through more stands of majestic redwoods and stopped at numerous overlooks to scan the ocean for whales, sea birds and sea lions. While we failed to observe whales on this cool, foggy day, we did find a large colony of noisy pinnipeds, crowding a sea stack near Trinidad. Tomorrow we continue our journey down the California coast.
Descending along the Middle Fork of the Smith River, we stopped at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park and explored the Stout Grove, one of the more pristine and scenic stands of redwood forest in California; walking among those giants, their shade supporting a rich understory of ferns, one is both inspired and humbled. Moving on to Crescent City, we observed massive seabird colonies (mostly common murres) on Castle Rock and visited Point St. George where we encountered ospreys, black oystercatchers, whimbrels, black scoters, brown pelicans and a host of shorebirds; the highlight was provided by a peregrine falcon that swooped down at close range to snare an unwary sandpiper.
Heading south on Highway 101, we encountered herds of Roosevelt elk, drove through more stands of majestic redwoods and stopped at numerous overlooks to scan the ocean for whales, sea birds and sea lions. While we failed to observe whales on this cool, foggy day, we did find a large colony of noisy pinnipeds, crowding a sea stack near Trinidad. Tomorrow we continue our journey down the California coast.
Wednesday, 11 May 2016
Exploring Volcanic California
Yesterday morning, we left Lake Tahoe and drove north on Route 89, undulating across the east flank of the Sierra Nevada; initially, all streams (including the scenic Little Truckee River) rumbled eastward, flowing into the Great Basin. Then, about an hour into our journey, we crossed a fork of the Feather River; its flow was to the west, indicating that we had reached the gap between the Sierra Nevada Range and the Cascades. After lunch in Quincy, California, we climbed along Indian Creek and then Wolf Creek, eventually reaching Lake Almanor, east of Lassen Peak.
Though we had planned to hike at Lassen National Park, we soon learned that the Park road was closed due to a heavy snowpack. We thus visited McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, off Route 89; there we enjoyed the scenic falls and hiked through a gorge of volcanic basalt. Another detour, resulting from a snow-blocked National Forest road, sent us westward, where we circled the majestic cone of Mt. Shasta. Angling northeast on Route 97, we then crossed tule marshes and the Butte Valley Grasslands, passed through Klamath Falls, Oregon, and dipped back into California, spending the night in Tulelake.
This morning, we visited the fabulous Tule Lake NWR, where we encountered American white pelicans, western grebes, eared grebes, bald eagles, a few sandhill cranes, cormorants, various terns and a wide variety of waterfowl (including cinnamon teal). We then visited Lava Beds National Monument, just northeast of the dormant Medicine Lake volcano, where we explored basalt flows and lava tubes. Finally, we passed through Lower Klamath NWR (where avocets were especially abundant) and drove west to Medford, Oregon, dropping through the scenic Siskiyou Mountains en route. Tomorrow we head for the California Coast.
Though we had planned to hike at Lassen National Park, we soon learned that the Park road was closed due to a heavy snowpack. We thus visited McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park, off Route 89; there we enjoyed the scenic falls and hiked through a gorge of volcanic basalt. Another detour, resulting from a snow-blocked National Forest road, sent us westward, where we circled the majestic cone of Mt. Shasta. Angling northeast on Route 97, we then crossed tule marshes and the Butte Valley Grasslands, passed through Klamath Falls, Oregon, and dipped back into California, spending the night in Tulelake.
This morning, we visited the fabulous Tule Lake NWR, where we encountered American white pelicans, western grebes, eared grebes, bald eagles, a few sandhill cranes, cormorants, various terns and a wide variety of waterfowl (including cinnamon teal). We then visited Lava Beds National Monument, just northeast of the dormant Medicine Lake volcano, where we explored basalt flows and lava tubes. Finally, we passed through Lower Klamath NWR (where avocets were especially abundant) and drove west to Medford, Oregon, dropping through the scenic Siskiyou Mountains en route. Tomorrow we head for the California Coast.
Monday, 9 May 2016
Crossing the Great Basin
West of Salt Lake City, Interstate 80 passes between the north end of the Oquirrh Range and the Great Salt Lake. As we drove west, black-necked stilts were feeding in the roadside shallows, cliff swallows swooped about the highway bridges and flocks of California gulls moved across the morning sky. Throughout western Utah, flat plains, remnants of Lake Bonneville, alternated with stark fault-block ranges, many of which were capped with snow.
In eastern Nevada, the ranges were more numerous and the intervening valleys were both rolling and green, covered by sage grasslands that were grazed by horses, cattle and pronghorn. Just west of Wells, the highway began to follow the Humboldt River, passing the majestic Ruby Mountains; we would parallel that river all the way to Lovelock, where it enters its terminal sink. Beyond that point, the greenery of eastern Nevada gave way to desert landscape, characterized by vast lake flats where American avocets patrolled the alkaline pools. This low desert, lying within the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada, ended at Fernley where we climbed into the Sierra foothills along the Truckee River. Passing through Reno, we continued westward and upward on Interstate 80 before turning south to Lake Tahoe.
Backed by the high spine of the Sierra Nevada, this beautiful lake is renowned for both its resorts and its fabulous alpine scenery; after a full day on the road, it seemed like a great place to spend the night. Tomorrow we head into the California Cascades.
In eastern Nevada, the ranges were more numerous and the intervening valleys were both rolling and green, covered by sage grasslands that were grazed by horses, cattle and pronghorn. Just west of Wells, the highway began to follow the Humboldt River, passing the majestic Ruby Mountains; we would parallel that river all the way to Lovelock, where it enters its terminal sink. Beyond that point, the greenery of eastern Nevada gave way to desert landscape, characterized by vast lake flats where American avocets patrolled the alkaline pools. This low desert, lying within the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada, ended at Fernley where we climbed into the Sierra foothills along the Truckee River. Passing through Reno, we continued westward and upward on Interstate 80 before turning south to Lake Tahoe.
Backed by the high spine of the Sierra Nevada, this beautiful lake is renowned for both its resorts and its fabulous alpine scenery; after a full day on the road, it seemed like a great place to spend the night. Tomorrow we head into the California Cascades.
Sunday, 8 May 2016
From Denver to Salt Lake
Beginning the first leg of our California road trip, we left Denver this morning, headed west on Interstate 70. Climbing through the Front Range, we crossed the Continental Divide at the Eisenhower Tunnel and entered the vast watershed of the Colorado River. After dipping through the Blue River Valley, we crossed Vail Pass and descended along Gore Creek and the Eagle River to the Colorado itself.
Following the Colorado, we snaked down Glenwood Canyon and, just west of Glenwood Springs, cut through the Grand Hogback, entering the Colorado Plateau, a landscape of mesas, buttes, plateaus and cliff-lined valleys. Passing Battlement and Grand Mesas to our south and the Roan Plateau to our north, we then drove along the Book Cliffs (Cretaceous in age), that rise along the north side of the Interstate from Grand Junction to Green River, Utah. Leaving the Colorado, we entered Utah where the La Sal Mountains, a massive laccolith near Moab, loomed to the SSW; after crossing the Green River, just east of the Waterpocket Fold, we turned north on US 6 toward Price, Utah, passing formations of Mancos Shale carved by the Price River and its tributaries.
Beyond Price, the highway climbs onto the Wasatch Plateau where, at Soldier Summit (7477 feet), we left the watershed of the Colorado River and entered the Great Basin, dropping from the Plateau and through the Wasatch Range to the urban corridor of Provo and Salt Lake City. Tomorrow, we cross the Great Basin on Interstate 80, headed for Reno and Lake Tahoe.
Following the Colorado, we snaked down Glenwood Canyon and, just west of Glenwood Springs, cut through the Grand Hogback, entering the Colorado Plateau, a landscape of mesas, buttes, plateaus and cliff-lined valleys. Passing Battlement and Grand Mesas to our south and the Roan Plateau to our north, we then drove along the Book Cliffs (Cretaceous in age), that rise along the north side of the Interstate from Grand Junction to Green River, Utah. Leaving the Colorado, we entered Utah where the La Sal Mountains, a massive laccolith near Moab, loomed to the SSW; after crossing the Green River, just east of the Waterpocket Fold, we turned north on US 6 toward Price, Utah, passing formations of Mancos Shale carved by the Price River and its tributaries.
Beyond Price, the highway climbs onto the Wasatch Plateau where, at Soldier Summit (7477 feet), we left the watershed of the Colorado River and entered the Great Basin, dropping from the Plateau and through the Wasatch Range to the urban corridor of Provo and Salt Lake City. Tomorrow, we cross the Great Basin on Interstate 80, headed for Reno and Lake Tahoe.
Tuesday, 3 May 2016
Invasion of Yellow-Rumped Warblers
Hoping that my second e-Bird checklist for South Platte Park would significantly exceed my first (see A Disappointing Survey), I headed down to the floodplain refuge on this cool, sunny morning. Taking my usual 2-mile loop hike, I encountered 30 species, a modest improvement from last month; however, the count included two ospreys, a flock of Franklin's gulls, a tardy group of female buffleheads, a lone loggerhead shrike and a flock of 17 barn swallows, perched in a small tree and presumably exhausted from their migration.
But the highlight of this visit was a tremendous number of yellow-rumped warblers (I estimated 300), foraging in almost every tree that graces the southern section of the refuge. Indeed, their numbers were so great that the movement of these small insectivores distracted me from other species that I attempted to locate. Per records provided on e-Bird, this count is more than double the previous maximum for any site in Colorado this year but it doesn't come close to the U.S. e-Bird record of 63,600+ observed at Cape May, New Jersey in the autumn of 2010.
After wintering across most of the central and southern latitudes of the U.S. and Mexico, yellow-rumped warblers return to breeding areas in the western mountains of North America and across Alaska, Canada and northernmost regions of the Lower 48. During their spring and fall migrations, they often travel in large flocks, a fact that was certainly confirmed at South Platte Park this morning.
But the highlight of this visit was a tremendous number of yellow-rumped warblers (I estimated 300), foraging in almost every tree that graces the southern section of the refuge. Indeed, their numbers were so great that the movement of these small insectivores distracted me from other species that I attempted to locate. Per records provided on e-Bird, this count is more than double the previous maximum for any site in Colorado this year but it doesn't come close to the U.S. e-Bird record of 63,600+ observed at Cape May, New Jersey in the autumn of 2010.
After wintering across most of the central and southern latitudes of the U.S. and Mexico, yellow-rumped warblers return to breeding areas in the western mountains of North America and across Alaska, Canada and northernmost regions of the Lower 48. During their spring and fall migrations, they often travel in large flocks, a fact that was certainly confirmed at South Platte Park this morning.
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