Any Day, Any Season

Spring and Summer  ~

We are pleased, those of us who are blessed to live in the Pacific Northwest, because as I write, it is June; it is still spring, the best of all seasons in Oregon and Washington.  The wind takes on the buzz of life carrying the scents of renewal; the rain is warmer; indeed, all of the land seems immersed in green hues, punctuated by landscapes of color, including trillium white, camas blue.  At rest for 10 months, morel mushrooms have emerged, as do boomers*, bears, and to a certain extent, people.  Great and small treasures await discovery in this still unrestrained region of the country.

Let’s move on to summer in the Pacific Northwest, and as any local resident will tell you, this is obviously the most wonderful of all seasons here.  The rain has taken a hiatus.  People everywhere are afoot; the treasures are not alone anymore especially those associated wtih the word “park.”  West of the Cascades, the land remains green while east of  the mountains, golden brown is the dominant robe of the landscape, blending rock with grass, meadow with earth.

The true jewels of the Pacific Northwest are those one cannot hoarde because they belong to none.  They can’t be bought because they are not for sale.  Price tags joyfully read “as is” on a piece of dune, a single butterfly, or a living Oregon white oak.  Natural valuables are typically fragile beings as they burn rather easily.  They don’t take well to chain saws, plows, or guns.  They can usually ride through the bumps of time, but only if the changes occur slowly, with a recognizable rhythm.

*What is a boomer…In this case, it isn’t someone born after 1950??

Sleeping in the Caboose

Just returned from an outstanding Memorial Day backpacking adventure to the lower Deschutes River Recreation Area with my dear friend Hawk Eye Marc Harvey.  This Blog entry could be about the bobcat we saw twice, the herd of bighorn sheep, the young woman we met who had just petted a rattlesnake or the caboose along the trail that almost became our spot for the night, but I’m going to focus on the various recreation uses of the Deschutes and how they somehow seem to work out..and maybe end with the rattlesnake story.

The Lower Deschutes River area has many federal and state managers and they share the goal of keeping the Wild & Scenic waterway pristine while still allowing crowds of folks to enjoy the place.  To deal with human waste, governments placed a number of outhouses strategically throughout the canyon.  These sites also became camping spots, so impact was dispersed and scattered.  Interesting that none of the camp locales offered potable water, though at Harris Canyon, a faucet came with a warning not to drink the water.  We packed in a gallon each and boiled river water for tea.

Backpackers were in the minority during the holiday weekend as most folks were day-use bicyclists.  According to one angler, “Fishing was terrible,” so we didn’t see any folks casting from the bank and only one possible fisherman floating in a dory.  There were a half dozen horseback riders, and all of the Trail Courtesy signs urged hikers and bikers to yield to Equines.   Due to the off and on rain, only a few rapid rafters were espied.   We barely came across any litter and despite chilly temperatures, only one illegal campfire had been lit.

Perhaps the Deschutes will be more crowded on July 4, but at this late May time, we might have seen 30 people, despite the drive-in Oregon State Park situated at the mouth of the river being at capacity.

To keep the canyon as a ecological treasure, controlling the introduced exotic vegetation should be a high priority.  Marc and I discovered a great blue heron rookery at Mile Post 11, which might need some seasonal quiet.  Otherwise, recreation and conservation seemed to be dancing well together.

On Saturday night, we stayed under the eaves of an old barn at Harris Canyon.  Just before rolling out our sleeping bags, Marc came across a four-foot long rattlesnake, certainly the largest he and I had ever seen.   The historic barn is situated next to a dilapidated old home still barely standing.  On Sunday, a couple on bicycles showed up and after walking gingerly inside the house, the young woman boasted she had just petted a “sleeping rattlesnake.”  We’re guessing it wasn’t the forty-eight inch creature. ~

Landowners

Be on time.  That’s the one piece of excellent advice I learned while meeting with hundreds of landowners over the years.   People who live and work on the land do spend full days attending to the needs of the ranch, farm or park, and they are doing us a favor by discussing conservation challenges and ideas on their land with a total stranger, and in my case, a not-to-be- (initially at least) trusted representative from the Fish and Wildlife Department.

Most wildlife and fish habitat and streams are not found on public land, but rather within private acreage.   To be successful in promoting conservation measures on private lands, Stewards might consider the following effective talking points to achieve mutual goals.

1.  What’s in it for them?  People will participate in conservation programs when they perceive it to be in their best interest.  Be prepared to describe how conservation is in the best interest of the landowner.

2.  Listen, Listen, Listen:  the needs of the landower must be established through intelligent and comprehensive questioning prior  to making a pitch for your conservation program.

3.  Solve a problem.  When you talk, you want people to listen.  Talk about their challenges, their needs, their concerns and then how conservation is the solution to their problems.

4. Let ‘em win!  Regard participation in a conservation program as enabling the landower to win by getting the benefits s/he is looking for.  if the landowner wants to adopt a conservation practice because it will save her labor costs rather then because of its erosion-reducing potential then let it be.

5.  Light a fire:  Each rancher or farmer visit should not be an opportunity to fill a bucket, but rather to light a fire.  The goal of the visit should be to prompt landowner interest in conservation, to get them to make the decision on their own.

One of my favorite stories about working with a private landowners occurred in central Oregon.  A rancher asked a Steward why there no cinnamon teal ducks breeding in his pond?  He said his wife loved to have ducks on their property.  The Steward wondered whether cows had access to the pond, and the rancher said yes.

The next slide showed a brood of ducklings swimming on the pond.  The simple act of just keeping cows out of the water during the short nesting season achieved the goal. ~

Slow

“Slow down you move too fast, you got to make the morning last.“

Simon and Garfunkel

Walking, watching, listening, meditating, and resting: all words that denote quiet, stillness, and slowness.   Slowing down is a tough challenge in today’s frenetic world, and the word slow has many negative connotions.   “She is a slow learner.”  “You’re driving too slow!” “It was a slow day at work.”

Yet, we often crave pausing and taking time to relax.  We love vacations, but it may take us many days to adapt to a relaxed lifestyle, and then we quickly pick up the pace immediately upon our return, rather than bringing vacation mode back home.

Spending time in nature slows us down wonderfully, especially when we’re in the presence of children who are bent upon exploring and discovering.  Or go fishing, fly fishing, where you’re standing in one place while a stream or river sings to you.

Stewards take their time because befriending land is a long process involving the use of all senses and a lot of waiting…for cubs to emerge from a den, for the arrival of spring birds, for an animal to find the artificial snag you created.

Tomorrow I am walking 11 miles with a group of hikers.  If we drove that distance, it would take us a quarter hour, bicycling would bring us to the trail’s end in 40 minutes, but we’ll spend the whole day on foot.  We’ll be in no rush and take our spring day slowly.  ~

Fragile

“The planet you’re standing on looking out at the stars is the earth, the third planet from the sun and the mildest and softest of the nine…

It’s small but it’s beautiful. It’s small but it’s fine like a bubble.”    ~  Lawrence Collins

I’ve been spending time lately by the Sandy River, a tremendous producer of beauty and salmon.  I’m involved with a fish habitat restoration project that involves a LOT of earth moving, log placements, new culverts, and enormous machines.  We are all trying to have the smallest impact to the park where this project is taking place, to the point of digging of plants that are in the way of temporary roads and channel dredging, and then replanting the vegetation out of harm’s way.

Nature is both fragile and delicate.  It doesn’t take much to harm a monarch butterfly.  Wetlands can be drained in minutes.  A forest fire immediately changes and simplifies an ecosystem.

Stewards are acutely aware of how a landscape can be transformed and they are constantly seeking ways of preventing irretrievable impacts, while learning techniques how to restore habitats.

Many species can adapt to slow changes in their natural world; it’s the abrupt flood or clearcut logging or new road that can instantly become problematic.

Governmental agencies have recognized this pattern, so they only allow equipment in fish bearing waters when the finned ones are absent; they may not permit disruptive noise or earth-moving during the spring nesting season.  I remember an eastern Oregon rancher being asked whether he allowed cattle in a wetland during April when the cinnamon teal ducklings are hatching.  The rancher replied that cows were free to muck around and that he had never seen the birds until…Then the next power point slide showed a family of teal in his pond.

In It for The Long Run

 

On this first day of spring,w e are easily moved to be thankful for this time of year, grateful that winter is over.  This is the time of year for hope, outdoor endeavors and recreation, gardening, for blessed warmth.

Located in Hood River, The Columbia Gorge Ecology Institute was created in 1997 and we are celebrating our 16th. year of providing place based education to underserved, rural children here in the Columbia River Gorge.

One of our long sought (and elusive) dreams of our organization has been procuring a “home,” an environmental learning center to serve our entire mid-Columbia region.  It is hard to believe that there is no such place in the Gorge.  Hood River Middle School students participating in overnight Outdoor School must travel more than one hour to a center not even located in Oregon, Brooks Memorial State Park located 18 miles north of Goldendale.

We have been tantalizingly close to signing the deal for a center, and during the past year have been working diligently and hopefully to accomplish our goal, focusing on a spectacular piece of property south of Hood river.  We don’t know whether this parcel will become our center, but we are in it for the long run.  Having a place where children can come to be instilled wtih a sense of wonder and place, while learning about ecological concepts and performing scientific research and habitat restoration is too important not to pursue.

We hope we can pull it off, as a gift from us to generations of Hood River students, for all of us who need the solace and peace that the natural world brings. ~

“The black earth is becoming a verdant garden; the

deserts and mountains are teeming with red flowers;

from the borders of the wilderness the tall grasses are

standing like advance guards before the cypress and

jessamine trees; while the birds are singing among

the rose branches like the angels in the highest

heavens, announcing the glad-tidings of the approach

of that spiritual spring, and the sweet music of their

voices is causing the real essence of all things to move and quiver.”

Abdu’l Baha

One on One

We like to experience nature in crowds.  We bring our family, friends, our partners, but we dp not venture out so much by ourselves.  We typically run or bicycle alone, but walking prompts invitations.  Going outdoors without company may conjure up some uncomfortability — fears of large critters, and the small, snakes, ticks, spiders.

Still, many have purposedly gone outside alone to overcome their “nature unease.”  Cheryl’s Stray’s bestseller, “Wild,” showcased one woman’s solo trek on the Pacific Crest Trail.  I used to conduct environmental education programs for adults and our last activity was appropriately called Solitude, spending a night alone.  One college student was thrilled to experience sleeping outdoors by herself to overcome her fear of the night.

Author Steve Van Matre tells the great story of a fifth grader who was spending time at her “Magic Spot.”  She had learned about remaining motionless in order to not scare any animals away that may be frightened by movement.  The 10 year old girl was sitting against a tree when she heard something big approach her from behind.  Normally, she (like all of us) would have looked to determine what it was, but to her credit she stayed still.  Then when the animal was directly behind her, the deer placed its head right in front of the girl and held there for a few seconds before trotting away.

Land Stewards often work alone, by choice, for they learn that much magic in nature comes from being quiet and being alert with all senses fully alive and on an adventure.  They probably have read the writings of solitary naturalists: John Muir, Thoreau, Barry Lopez, among others who gained such deep insights when walking alone in wild places.

Walking alone may also allow for being on one’s unhindered, unrushed time frame, rather than being on someone else’s tight schedule.  One should always have time for the natural world. ~

Malheur Dawn by William Stafford

MALHEUR LAKE DAWN

 

An owl sound wandered along the road with me.

I didn’t hear it —I breathed it into my ears.

Little ones at first, the stars retired, leaving

polished little circles on the sky for awhile.

Then the sun began to shout from below the

horizon.

Throngs of birds campaigned, their music a tent of sound.

 From across a pond, out of the mist,

one drake made a V and said its name.

Some vast animal of air began to rouse

from the reeds and lean outward.

Frogs discovered their national anthem again.

I didn’t know a ditch could hold so much joy.

So magic a time it was that I was brave and

afraid.  Some day like this might save the world.

Rocks (and roll)

“So when you think of this landscape, I urge you not to think of it as just a pile of static rocks but as a history book with stories of lava flows, of floods, of huge towering plumes of ash and gas overwhelming everythiing that lived there and couldn’t run away.  These are very dynamic environments even though they are old.”

                                               Geology Professor Ellen Morris Bishop

Many Stewards have rocks on the land they are tending.  Rocks are needed to stabilize roads, while a few homes are built with rock as a base or even, as one home nearby displays, is made entirely of native stone.  We love tall rocks, which we call mountains.  Rock can be important wildlife habitat as reptiles, birds of prey, vultures, and even a small western mammal called a pika or “rock rabbit,” make their homes and nests on ledges and within crevices.  If a stream passes through your land, it is the mixture of small stones known as spawning gravels that are vital for salmon.  Human chiseled rocks are indigenous tools, cultural treasures.

While caves are a rare landform in the Pacific Northwest, essentially every cavern holds bats.  A note of caution: if you like spelunking, please don’t explore caves during the winter as it can cause a massive die-off to hibernating bats.

Rocks are an essential part of soil, providing the mineral or non-living component of what we too often refer to ignominiously as dirt.

Unless we are a geologist or rock climber, we don’t think much about rocky formations, though we may yield to temptation when discovering flat, palm-sized stones perfect for skipping along a water surface.  We do use boulders for landscaping and as rock gardens.  We also like to build cairns along pathways to show us the way, or as many local folks acting spontaneously, erecting rock towers along a new freeway off-ramp.

When Steward a discovers rocks or cliffs on the land, it is nice to know that this is one natural resource that probably needs no intervention; no mangement is needed. ~

Happy Trails

“Happy Trails to you til’ we meet again.  Happy Trails to you, keep smiling on til’ then.”     ~                      Roy and Dale Rogers

I guess most of us have our favorite trail, whether it is a world renowned path such as the uphill hike to Yosemite Falls or the Kaibab Trail that winds down through geologic Grand Canyon time.

Our local trails get a lot of use from walkers, joggers, speed skaters, bicyclists, and in more rural areas, equestrian riders.  We are attracted by waterfalls, familiar sights, and people and pets we expect to meet along special places close to home.

Trails come in many forms:  There are established trails we expect in parks and we pave some walkways to allow access to everyone.  Old rutted roads, we call them jeep trails, are common here in the eastern Cascades realm.  Some are well rocked and therefore can be enjoyed year-round, while others are muddy messes at about this February time of year, yet serve us well as ski or snowshoe trails for at least a few moments of winter.

Stewards know their land’s trails.  They’ve seen them in all seasons, have probably spent time ensuring they are not causing erosion and as a result, are there to provide maintenance as needed.  Stewards pull out their binoculars when wildlife appear and a camera to capture beauty and wonder.

Trails are foot access to magical scenic turnouts: a pond, a viewpoint, a hawk’s nest or the first spring flower.  Or they just might be the way home as we insist upon leaving our vehicle away from the house and begin and end each day with exercise and a path to our loved ones.  ~

The First Step: Embracing A Place

I should have been a realtor, an environmental realtor, if there is such a title.  When I worked for the fish and wildlife department in an office building with many ologists — fish experts, wildlife managers, habitat reviewers who tried desperately to slow down the simplification and fragmentation of land.  In a tucked away office, there was one person who job was to buy land.  Purchasing a piece of the earth for fish and wildlife.  That’s the job I would love.  It is a noble pursuit, being a permanent natural conservator.

If you have a thought to be a land steward then start the acquisition process now.  Saving land spins inspiring stories, and is akin to a treasure hunt with the gold being the sun shining on a daily view of swirling meadow grasses, varied thrushes’s fluting their way through the oak forest, clean water, and good intact, working soil.

Tips:

1.  Look for a spot that needs some R & R — renewal and restoration.  Even here in the Columbia Gorge, there are few pristine lands.  Instead, there will be a forest that has seen the saw, acres of cheat-grass, a stream with an old tire or two.

2.  Bigger is better:  The more land you can buy, the more that can be conserved.  Buying with others can ensure shared responsibility, the establishment of wildlife corridors and conservation easements.

3.  Bad weather:  Seek out property when conditions are that their worse.  (The best deals can be made due to extreme climatic conditions).  If you are chilled by winter snow, then visiting your prospective property in a snowstorm will test your propensity for frozen pipes, treacherous unplowed roads, your affinity for XX skiing to reach a destination.  If summer heat shrivels your pores, then sit in the open sun during mid-August and if you don’t mind frying, then perhaps you’ve found a home.

4.  Take time:  Land looking should be a slow simmer rather than a full-stream ahead process. Patience, attention to details and investigation all come into play.  You don’t want to sign a land constract only to learn that some one else owns the mineral or logging rights to your land.  Time is needed for many visits, for a picnic, for an overnight under the stars, for finding the parcel’s four corners.  Buying land has a lot to do with feelings.  so, getting a sense of your new place requires sitting and waiting, marveling, and coming to a certainty that this place needs you and you need this place. ~