Krummholz Whitebark Pine on Mt. Washburn (NPS Library)The knarled and twisted trunk of the intrepid whitebark pine stands as a testament to the stubbornness of a tree and its will to survive in harsh conditions. Although found at a range of elevations above 7,000 feet, the whitebark gains character the higher it lives, as strong winds and freezing temperatures stunts its growth into a “krummholz” (German for crooked or bent) formation.
When I spend time in the subalpine zone, I gaze at the tops of the whitebark pine looking for my favorite bird, the boisterous Clark’s Nutcracker, who plays an important role in the dispersal of the tree’s cones and seeds, and consequently its regeneration. (I have the utmost respect for the Clark’s Nutcracker, who can store over 30,000 seeds in thousands of caches and remember every location!) Watch a video of the bird extracting seeds on the Whitebark Pine Ecosystem Foundation website.
Whitebark Pine Seeds: A Grizzly Bear's Favorite Food!The nutrient-rich seeds of the whitebark pine support a diverse array of wildlife, from nuthatches and finches, to chipmunks and squirrels. Yet the seeds also provide one of Yellowstone’s largest mammals—the grizzly bear—with a vital component of its diet. Grizzly bears usually don’t pluck cones from the tree, but raid the middens of hardworking squirrels for the majority of their seed consumption.
Although the lodgepole pine is the most common tree in Yellowstone, the whitebark pine may rank as the most important to the park’s ecosystem. The tree acts as a keystone species—a species that exerts significant influence on the ecological community it inhabits, and as a result, its demise can have catastrophic consequences.
Whitebark Pine in Yellowstone (NPS Library)Unfortunately, those consequences might already be occurring as the whitebark pine is suffering from several ailments—some of which are enhanced by climate change. The mountain pine beetle and the blister rust fungus have begun to gain a foothold, perhaps due to changing climatic conditions. An increase in the frequency of severe fires, also thought by some to be the result of global warming, creates conditions unfavorable for the tree.
In early December, the Natural Resources Defense Council petitioned the federal government to list the whitebark pine on the endangered species list. The non-profit group cited some alarming statistics: in portions of the whitebark’s range, 50% of the trees are dead and 80 to 100% of the live trees are infected with blister rust or beetles.
In the press release announcing the petition, NRDC senior wildlife advocate Louisa Wilcox raised the alarm: “If these trees go, they could take Yellowstone’s grizzlies and a lot of America’s western forests with them. If we want to save not just the whitebark pine, but the animals and plants like the grizzly bear that depend on this tree for food, we need to move to protect and restore them now.”
Below is an excellent video by the NRDC on the threatened status of the whitebark pine.
An Elk Good MorningWintertime brings pleasanter experiences to Yellowstone than the insane cold. As the temperatures drop and the snowflakes fall, some of the wildlife head to lower elevations for winter foraging.
The northern range of Yellowstone provides a winter home for an assortment of ungulates such as bison, elk, and pronghorn. And I am lucky enough to be able to watch the parade of wildlife march by my front door.
A Young Bull ElkThe first arrivals this year (that I’ve observed) have been the elk. Although 10,000 to 20,000 elk live in Yellowstone during the summer, the number decreases to under 9,000 in the winter because of the harsh conditions. According to the National Park Service’s publication, Yellowstone Resources and Issues 2008, only the Madison-Firehole herd lives year-round in the park.
In the morning a small herd of elk usually naps nearby my car, greeting me as I depart for work. In the afternoon, the herd wanders in my yard, pawing the snow to forage for vegetation. As I wrote today, a curious elk peered in my window. I also observed a group of pronghorn near Old Gardiner Road, and I'm sure the bison won't be far behind. I'm looking forward to the arrival of all of my seasonal neighbors!
This last week we've experienced below zero temperatures in Yellowstone. While I certainly vote for warmer weather, the intense cold emboldens the landscape and paints it a glistening color that vibrates with life. Below are some photos from Mammoth Hot Springs and Gardiner.
Sun Dogs and Halo Over Sepulcher MountainThe author of Skywatch West: The Complete Weather Guide, introduces the chapter on halos and sundogs with a quote from Shakespeare's Henry VI, "Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?" Today, I was rewarded for venturing outside in below zero temperatures with the dazzling sight of the three-sun phenomena, called parhelia (Greek for 'beside the sun') or more commonly sundogs.
During my stroll up Old Gardiner Road, I had an excellent view of one of the sundogs over Sepulcher Mountain; the red and bluish light banished the whiteness of cirrus clouds, opening a door into the sky. At one point, it appeared that I could step through that door from the top of Sepulcher into a wondrous universe--and I was tempted to try.
Sun dog in Tuolumne MeadowsIce crystals refracting the sunlight create sun dogs and halos. The two hexagonal crystal types most likely to create these optical phenomena are shaped like six-sided wafers and columnar pencils. Both have eight surfaces capable of refracting light. As depicted in the photo with this entry, sundogs and halos can accompany each other.
Sundogs appear in a diverse cross-section of history and literature, as a entry in Wikipedia demonstrates. Artistole's work mentions "two mock suns," and Cicero's On the Republic examines the parhelion. In The War of the Roses, the appearance of sundogs was viewed as an omen of victory for the Yorkists.
In modern times, sundogs appear in Nabakov's novel, Pale Fire, provides the title for a Stephen King novella and Jack London short story, and even warrant a mention in the rock group Rush's song "Chain Lightning" (band member Neil Peart is a weather fanatic).
Being a dog-lover, I wanted to know the origin of the name and oddly enough most of my weather books remained mute on the topic. But I dug up the answer in my Weatherwise magazine archives (yes, I am that much of a weather geek). In the November 2002 issue, author Stephen Wilk answers the question 'whose dogs are the sun dogs?' in the article "Every Dog Has Its Day." He provides a few explanations, one of them being that the Germanic sky god Odin possessed two hounds/wolves, Geri (Ravener) and Freki (Glutton).
For more information on sun dogs, you can read an excellent description on The Weather Doctor's site.
Sierra Wave Over Half Dome (Shad Stites)Cloud-watching ranks as one of my favorite pastimes. Much like birding has its "life-list" species, cloud gazing also boast some premiere sightings. In my opinion, one of the most spectacular clouds is the Sierra Wave, an enormous lenticular cloud that stretches over the Sierra Nevada Range; it's formed by a complex pattern of the wind interacting with the surrounding terrain.
My partner Shad took a recent photograph of a Sierra Wave over Half Dome in Yosemite. Over seven years ago, Shad and I were hiking on the Kuna Crest in Yosemite when we saw our first wave--although at the time I had no idea what the monster cloud above us represented. Aside from its striking appearance, the cloud possesses a fascinating history that involves the famed explorer Clarence King, the first cooperative international meteorological study, and a record setting ascent in a sailplane.
Sierra Wave Over Tenaya Lake in 2006Here's an excerpt from an article I wrote about the Sierra Wave:
The sky expresses itself in a poetry of clouds. That poetry resounds with a nautical flavor, for the sky is an ocean of air, an ocean we tend to forget for its invisibility. This sea of air does reveal itself in the clouds at times, its complexities and motions made perceptible. In a sense, clouds are the waves of the air, the visible manifestations of the atmospheric tide.
The Sierra Nevada adds its own special verse to the poetry of the sky. Known as the Sierra Wave, this cloud formation perfectly illustrates the sea above our heads. Imagine staring up at the sky on a clear day and being confronted by a white cloud that challenges the reach of the mountain range before you. Or suppose that you are standing beneath a giant crest of surf on the verge of breaking. Such is the Sierra Wave. "
Clouds always tell a true story, but one which is difficult to read," said meteorologist Ralph Abercromby. The story of the Sierra Wave not only reveals the truth of the weather behind a cloud, but it also discloses a landmark tale of scientific discovery.
Please Don't Make Me Go Outside!I am quite possibly the only person in the entire Yellowstone area not happy about the recent development in the weather (see below for the horror filled forecast). You can take the girl out of California, but you can't take....
Last week the press coverage centered around how Yellowstone's winter season lacked enough snow in areas for even skiing. Perhaps Mother Nature likes a last minute challenge as this weekend's storm should remedy the situation. Please pay special attention to the windchill forecast for this evening (yes--that's 20 to 30F below zero).
As I write, the temperature outside registers at a balmy 6F compared with the predicted low. Just for fun, I've bundled up in my long underwear and Patagonia parka for a stroll outdoors. Why not? I need to embrace the horror.
Oh, the Weather Outside Is FrightfulWinter Storm Warning Statement as of 10:54 AM MST on December 13, 2008
...Winter Storm Warning remains in effect until 11 PM MST this evening...
A Winter Storm Warning for heavy snow and blowing snow remains in effect until 11 PM MST this evening.
Snow...blowing snow...and dangerously cold wind chills will occur today through this evening. Snow will continue...heavy at times...through early this evening with total snow accumulations of 4 to 6 inches. However...6 to 11 inches of snow can be expected over and near area mountains. Northerly winds of 15 to 30 mph with gusts to 40 mph today will decrease this evening. The strong winds will combine with the falling snow and snow on the ground to create occasional whiteout conditions with near zero visibility into the evening. With temperatures falling to near zero this afternoon the gusty winds also create wind chills of 20 to 30 degrees below zero by late this afternoon.
A Winter Storm Warning means significant amounts of snow are expected. Strong winds...blowing snow...and bitterly cold conditions will occur as well. This will make travel very hazardous or impossible. Those with vulnerable livestock should take precautions to protect them from the bitter cold.
Zion CanyonJohn Wesley Powell, who extensively explored the canyons of the Colorado Plateau, said of the landscape, "All this is the music of waters."
Water has shaped a magnificent symphony in Zion National Park, accompanied by the sunset-colored rocks. Light plays the canyon walls as her instrument and changes the melody throughout the day and night. Sunrise and sunset create a fire of rock in this valley. During a visit last year, snow had decorated the red canyon walls and the light had colored the white flakes with pink hues.
Today the grey winter day in Yellowstone had me wishing that I was still hiking under the bright rocks in Zion. But then a herd of pronghorn strolled across my front yard and I was thankful to be home. So ends my wonderful sojourn through some of the western National Parks.
The Grand Canyon--Objects in the View Are Farther Than They AppearDescribing the sheer magnitude of the Grand Canyon is impossible, like attempting to convey the vividness of a dream. Photographs also fail to capture the startling giganticness of the landscape (especially amateur ones like mine). The Grand Canyon simply has to be experienced to be fully appreciated—you need to stand on the rim of this 277 mile-long canyon and peer down a mile at the blue snake of the Colorado River to feel your inevitable insignificance and smallness, but also the expansive hopefulness that accompanies witnessing such a truly magnificent sight.
This morning I attended a talk with Ranger Pat on the geology of the Grand Canyon and learned an enormous amount about its formation. Despite the landscape containing rocks up to 2 billion years old, the Canyon itself took shape only yesterday in geologic time: 5-7 million years ago.
After the talk I descended into the rainbow of colorful rock layers while hiking down into the Canyon on the South Kaibab Trail. Being afraid of heights, I had to cautiously creep toward the edge as I walked back to my hotel via the Rim Trail—a mile down is a long way to fall. And after a day of hiking I have earned my dinner tonight at the famed El Tovar!
Tomorrow I leave for Zion National Park, and I’ll return home to Yellowstone this weekend.
For my return trip to Yellowstone, I am taking the scenic route and visiting Death Valley, Grand Canyon, and Zion National Parks.
Today I spent the afternoon wandering in the starkly beautiful landscape of Death Valley. Despite the dominance of the sun, the park presents a world of vivid colors and textures--from the white crunchy roughness of the salt flats in Badwater Basin (the lowest point in North America) to the rainbow of pigments decorating the cliffs on Artists Drive. I've included a sampling of photos and a short video of Badwater below; see my photo gallery for more pictures.
Stinson BeachAccording to the Natural Resources Defense Council’s “Losing Ground” report, climate change will have significant consequences on California’s coast. Several public agencies and other conservation designations help protect a large portion of California’s 840-mile scenic coastline. Yet rising sea levels resulting from global warming threaten to erode beaches, ravage the delicate balance of estuaries and wetlands, and destroy cultural resources and recreational areas. Point Reyes National Seashore may lose many of its estuaries; Golden Gate Recreation Area, with 59 miles of beaches, faces severe coastal flooding; and, over half of Channel Islands’ seashore has been deemed very vulnerable to rising tides.
The report specifically names a number of beaches in Northern California, and I decided to explore these special places during my recent trip to the Bay Area. My partner on my field trip, the naturalist Jack Laws, has been exploring the California coast since childhood and made for an enthusiastic and knowledgeable tour guide.
Red-tailed Hawk at Sunset, Point Reyes National SeashoreIn one day we managed to visit most of the beaches listed in the report, and our determination was rewarded with a trip filled with wondrous sights: from viewing ochre starfish on a rock exposed by low tide at China Beach, to observing Tule elk resting under a full moon in Point Reyes National Seashore, to gazing at harbor seals lounging in Bolinas Lagoon.
These magnificent places boast spectacular scenery, provide homes for diverse and numerous populations of flora and fauna, and offer recreational opportunities for people throughout the golden state. I agree with Jack, however, when he expressed his affinity for the California coast as originating from “the feeling it evoked of freedom, possibilities, and liberation in its limitless space.” For all these reasons, we simply must take action to preserve these areas before it’s too late.
Below are highlights of our field trip along with a video diary. More photos are available in my gallery.
Ocean Beach, Golden Gate Recreation Area (GGNRA): The famous Cliff House overlooks Ocean Beach; its close proximity to San Francisco makes it a popular destination for city dwellers. Even with the dense fog and cool temperatures, surfers braved the waters and beachgoers tossed frisbees. Jack discovered a red nereid worm in the sand and revived some jellyfish stranded on the low tide.
Cliff House Overlooking Ocean BeachChina Beach, GGNRA: Named for the Chinese fisherman who camped in the sheltered cove, China Beach offers a nice picnic spot, but the swimming can be dangerous. The low tide during our visit revealed two ochre starfish clinging to a rock as they dined on mussels, and a lively gathering of seagulls on the shore included an assortment of heermann’s, mew, ring-billed, and glaucous-winged gulls. Other creatures making an appearance: a willet, shore crab, limpets, and a double-breasted cormorant.
Golden Gate Bridge from Baker BeachBaker Beach, GGNRA: The Golden Gate Bridge, peaking out of the fog, greeted us as we entered. On the dunes of Baker Beach yellow-sand verbena and beach strawberry bloomed in bright yellow and white—a stark contrast to the dull brown sand.
Muir Beach, GGNRA: The path to the beach leads through a brackish lagoon and we scanned the landscape for the various shorebirds that linger here. Fog hovered over the coastline, reminding me of Carl Sandburg’s famous poem: “The fog comes on little cat feet./It sits looking/over harbor and city/on silent haunches/and then moves on.” Jack told me about witnessing the spectacular salmon run on Muir Beach, while I pretended the sun was shining and waded in the water.
Stinson Beach, GGNRA: The sun strained to conquer the fog and almost succeeded, yet the marriage of light and dark painted the shore in a misty mother-of-pearl iridescence. A small willet chased a long-billed marble godwit, trying to steal his foraged food, while seagulls hosted a noisy gathering nearby. Sharks have been known to frequent the waters off Stinson beach; Jack and I searched for the telltale fin cutting through the water with no success.
Drakes Estero: Point Reyes National Seashore (PRNS): Drake’s Estero is a picturesque spot in Point Reyes National Seashore with its waters meandering gently inland; from above the waterways resemble an outstreched hand. Once a drowned river valley, the marshlands, tidal flats, seagrass beds, and intertidal areas—along with the diverse plants and animals it supports—has been recognized as one of California’s most ecologically pristine estuaries.
Point Reyes Beach, PRNS: The powerful surf and unyielding wind has shaped the character of Point Reyes beach—truly we felt like we were standing on the edge of the world. Also known as Giant Beach, the shoreline stretches undisturbed for ten miles and the water arrives unencumbered from the mighty expanse of the Pacific. Utilizing some bull kelp that had been washed ashore, Jack quickly constructed a kelp horn, although his music could hardly be heard above the roar of the wind.
Full Moon Over Drakes BeachDrakes Beach, PRNS: Did Sir Francis Drake land at his namesake beach? There is some debate whether the sandstone cliffs along this beach refer to the white cliffs mentioned in Drake’s journal. We arrived at sunset and the pinkish hues reflected on the water while the full moon danced both in the sky and on the beach. And as if nature had cued up a delightful cast of characters for our last site, during our drive to and from Drake’s Beach we saw Tule elk resting in a meadow under a full moon, a red-tailed hawk perched on a fence post at sunset, and just before dark a great-horned owl soared past our car.
Chorus Frog Crawling on Author's HomeWhen I relocated from Yosemite to Yellowstone, I had to adjust to subzero temperatures, a lack of Thai food, and being in the middle of the food chain. Yet the most difficult alteration involved the shortage of my favorite animals: frogs.
In my home outside of Yosemite, the delicate pacific chorus frogs decorated my windows as they prowled for moths, and on my hikes in the Sierra I often encountered the mountain yellow-legged frog lounging around sunny stream banks. As I reported in a prior entry, Yosemite’s amphibians have declined alarmingly in recent years—some populations of the mountain yellow-legged have been reduced by over 90 percent in the Sierra Nevada.
Amphibians in Yellowstone are scarce—and getting scarcer. Yellowstone’s harsh climate supports only four species of amphibians: boreal toad, boreal chorus frog, Columbia spotted frog, and the tiger salamander. Unfortunately, these animals have also recently experienced steep declines according to a study just published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PSNA) entitled “Climatic Change and Wetland Desiccation Cause Amphibian Decline in Yellowstone National Park.”
Columbia Spotted Frog (NPS Library)Authors Sarah McMenamin, Elizabeth Hadly, and Christopher Wright surveyed kettle ponds (ponds originally formed when glaciers retreated and fed by snowmelt and groundwater) between 2006 and 2008 in Yellowstone's Lamar Valley. They discovered that dry ponds have increased 4-fold in the past sixteen years, and as a result eliminated a large segment of ideal amphibian habitat in the park. Even more troubling, the study found that three of the four amphibian species in Yellowstone had experienced sharp declines in their populations.
Lamar Valley in Yellowstone: Location of StudyMs. McMenamin told the BBC News, "There is a pretty substantial signal of climate change in this region." The report introduction also raises an alarm: “Our results indicate that climatic warming already has disrupted one of the best-protected ecosystems on our planet and that current assessment of species vulnerability do not adequately consider such impacts.”
Aside from the devastation this news causes frog-o-philes like me, why is the disappearing amphibians cause for concern? Amphibians have been characterized as an indicator species—because of their sensitivity to environmental degradation, they act as a bellwether for change. As David Wake, author of another study on amphibian decline recently stated, "There's no question that we are in a mass extinction spasm right now. Amphibians have been around for about 250 million years. They made it through when the dinosaurs didn't. The fact that they're cutting out now should be a lesson for us.”
Yesterday I wrote about the graceful ballet of the bighorn—their scaling almost effortlessly high ridges and cliffs. Today, I spent three hours perched on a hillside watching another fascinating bighorn sheep behavior—the rut.
I had only planned to take a short hike today as I had much work to do, so I headed up the nearby shoulder of Mt. Everts for a little exercise. When I ascended a ridge, a large herd of bighorn appeared in the distance. So much for a quick hike—I settled down to watch. From my seat, I observed rams tussling for dominance and heard the accompanying gunshot of their clashing. Nearby, a large number of ewes and lambs grazed or napped unconcerned—I suppose they have become accustomed to these battles.
As far as clashes go, the bighorn are pretty civilized. The rams “huddle,” in a group showing off their horns and sizing each other up. If a subordinate does not concede, a dominant ram may assume the “low stretch” stance that indicates power. Then suddenly, the two rams may surge toward each other and clash.
Yet the incident ends very quickly and the rams may resume grazing next to each other immediately after the fight. I observed one ram settle down for a rest right in front of two sparring males.
My favorite stance was the lip curl, a bighorn “funny face” made after a ram smells an ewe in order to determine her reproductive status. After the rams had fought for some time, the females moved near the huddle as if to say, “enough silly fighting!” Many of the eager males followed the ewes, strolling behind with their lips curled and heads lifted proudly in the air.
For all their abundance in Yellowstone, bighorn sheep in our country face many threats. Theodore Roosevelt is generally credited with bringing the sheep back from the brink of extinction in the early 1900s. Habitat erosion and climate change pose challenges for the bighorn. Exposure to livestock and even humans also put bighorns at the risk of contagious disease. As the park ranger notes in my prior post, this is one of the reasons approaching wildlife and being closer than 25 yards to an animal (100 yards for bears and wolves) is forbidden in the park.
I also took some video footage of the rut. Sorry-the wind is loud, but if you listen carefully at the end you'll hear the "gunshot" of two rams clashing.
Bighorn Sheep Near Mt. EvertsLast spring, I climbed the shoulder of Mt. Everts and stopped to eat lunch. As I sat comfortably on a boulder munching a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a large herd of bighorn sheep descended from a ridge behind me and to my surprise surrounded me. Curious, but not frightened, they began to forage near my resting place. I sat still, not wanting to frighten the animals (and not being able to walk through the herd) and waited until they passed. My astonishment prevented me from finishing my lunch—I remained almost motionless and utterly transfixed as I watched these magnificent animals for an hour before they moved to greener pastures.
So began my absolute enchantment with bighorn sheep.
A bighorn sighting eluded me during my twenty years hiking in the Sierra Nevada; my closest encounter came when ranger Dick Ewart and I discovered bighorn tracks at the top of the Granite Divide in Yosemite. The naturalist Jack Laws and I also embarked on a failed mission in search of the sheep outside of Bishop that resulted in a drowned Subaru but no bighorn.
Bighorn on Gardner RiverYellowstone, however, has no shortage of the animal. When I traveled to the park for my job interview last fall, I drove through Gardiner and suddenly slammed on my brakes in amazement as I saw six bighorn resting on the side of the road.
Since moving to Yellowstone, I’ve been fortunate enough to observe the bighorn frequently as they spend most of the year roaming the hillsides and ridges adjacent to my home.
Last week I spent an hour gazing at the bighorn sheep as they danced on the cliffs in the Gardner River Canyon—a graceful ballet with nature as the stage. As Dale Toweill notes in his book Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep:
“Like a ballerina, bighorns walk on the tips of two toes. Their outer hooves are modified toenails, exquisitely shaped to grip any slight protrusion, while the base of the foot---the end of the toe—forms a soft pad that conforms to each surface preventing slippage. The cone-shaped foot is tightly wrapped with tendons, transferring the pressure from the hoof to the muscular legs—a marvel of engineering.”
Watch these impressive animals scale the cliffs in my video of the bighorn ballet:
The bighorn sheep, rams especially, carry a heavy load while leaping from ridge to ridge. An adult ram’s horns can weigh up to forty pounds and account for 8-12 percent of its body weight. Horns also denote social status in males, with the general rule being the bigger the horn the higher the ranking.
Although many consider the curled horn the most striking feature of a bighorn, I have to cast a vote for their golden-orange eyes. When a bighorn gazes at me with its peaceful, curious visage, those wide-set, ancient eyes calm my spirit. The gentle gaze is misleading, however, as bighorns consider staring bad manners or an indication of threatening behavior.
The weather gifted me with a warm fall day of sun and temperatures in the sixties, which almost banished the painful memory of being buried in three feet of snow last weekend. Wanting to take advantage of the beautiful day, I hiked from my home up the Old Gardiner Road, one of the first roads built in Yellowstone. I could envision the yellow Tally-Ho coaches, pulled by six horses, rambling up the road and filled with eager (and dusty) tourists visiting the park.
"This is an extremely large foot"The wet weather had created mud last week, and I observed a parade of assorted animal tracks on the dirt road as I walked. Bison and elk prints were in abundance.
About halfway up the five-mile hike, I noticed a set of distinctive prints—grizzly tracks. A line from Mary Oliver’s delightful poem, Bear, suddenly resounded in my head: “This is not my track, and this is an extremely large foot.” I suddenly began contemplating the possibilities of being in the middle of the food chain.
Luckily or unluckily—I couldn’t decide—I encountered no bears. Once I arrived in Mammoth, I decided to extend my hike and explore the Mammoth Terraces. Yellowstone has settled into a quietness with the approach of winter as most of the facilities are closed until December, and as a result the visitors were scarce on the terrace boardwalks.
Dead Tree on Main TerraceAlthough Mammoth Hot Springs is located outside the caldera boundary and lacks the showy geysers that populate the southern region of the park, it still boasts some pretty neat thermal features. The terraces, or travertine formations, decorate the hillside above Mammoth, creating nature’s version of a Greek temple.
Travertines are formed by geothermal water rising to the surface and depositing calcium carbonate, the main ingredient in limestone. Thermophiles, microbes who thrive in heat, paint the travertines with rich colors from pigments used in photosynthesis.
Liberty CapSince the underground hot springs that form the terraces may shift direction or stop flowing, the resulting travertines can change rapidly. For example, last winter the water flowing out of Orange Spring Mound suddenly changed direction and began feeding into Upper Terrace Drive. And Liberty Cap, the 37 foot, 2,500 year-old formation that greets visitors at the start of the Lower Terrace Trail, flowed for hundreds of years before becoming dormant.
F.V. Hayden named Liberty Cap in 1871, citing its resemblance to the peaked caps worn during the French Revolution that represented freedom. G.L. Henderson wrote a poetic description of Liberty Cap in 1888: "It looks like a silent sentinel guarding the gate of Wonderland; or like an ancient witness who could, if it would, reveal the sealed secrets of the past. It has more faces than Janus and more eyes than the fabled Argus."
You can visit my photo gallery for more pictures of Mammoth Hot Springs.
Pika on Rock (NPS Library)Last summer my good friend, the naturalist Jack Laws, joined me for a hike up to the Dana Plateau in Yosemite, one of my favorite places on earth. The rock filled plateau resembles a Martian landscape and presents an ancient geologic wonderland—the high alpine basin remained untouched by recent glaciations, and as a result, offers a rare glimpse of a landscape 25 million years old.
The oddly shaped granite boulders that inhabit the area act as aged sentinels who have endured an eon of winds, rains, snows, and sun that have shaped their unique character. Mount Dana and its glacier also stand watch over the plateau and the adjacent Glacier Canyon. The entire area transports the visitor back to a prehistoric time—indeed, during my visits I would not have been surprised to observe a pterodactylus extending its enormous wings as it soared over the cerulean waters of Dana Lake.
Dana Plateau, Yosemite National ParkYet for all the beauty created by the giganticness of the sweeping plateau and its imposing granite peaks, my favorite sight amidst this landscape is a small furry creature less than eight inches long who scrambles among the rock piles largely unnoticed.
Observant hikers (and those lucky enough to have the company of such a gifted naturalist as Mr. Laws) can encounter the American pika (ochotona princeps ) in rocky terrain at elevations of 8,000 to 13,000 in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Nevada, California, and New Mexico. The Dana Plateau, with a landscape dominated by talus, provides the ideal habitat for these small lagomorphs, also fondly referred to as rock rabbits, boulder bunnies, or whistling hares.
On a warm summer day in August, Jack and I stopped on the east slope of the plateau and sat on a large boulder, quietly and patiently scanning the terrain for signs of the pika. In the direction of Mono Lake, a large cumulonimbus cloud rose into the heights of the blue sky, its white arms extending into an anvil shape, a telltale sign of an imminent thunderstorm. Very soon after our arrival, we heard the unmistakable high-pitched chirping of the pika—appropriately, its name may be a derivative of the Russian word pikat, meaning, “to squeak.”
Pika in Yellowstone (NPS Library)Despite the impending storm nearby, Jack opened his sketchbook and began capturing the pika with his talented artist’s hand. We both watched, delighted, as one pika harvested a stalk of lupine and carried it between his incisors back to his rockpile home. Pikas do not hibernate, but collect various grasses, shrubs, and lichen, place the food into the sun to dry, and then stash it into a “haystack” for winter consumption. The nimble and deft pikas have also been known to loot their neighbors’ haystacks.
For me, watching the rabbit-like pika scurry over talus fields is as essential to the beauty and character of the high alpine landscape as the requisite towering peaks. Sadly, the cheerful chirping of the pika may soon disappear from the high country as the effects of climate change have already reduced their numbers. Rising temperatures have diminished the already small islands of habitat for the cold-loving pikas (who can perish from overheating) and have pushed them higher up the range. If temperatures continue to increase, even the highest elevations may no longer provide a home for the pikas and the species may be threatened to the point of extinction.
Pika Eating Grass (NPS Library)Erik Beever, a USGS ecologist who co-authored a 2003 study of the species funded by the World Wildlife Fund, commented in a recent article in ENN:
"Population by population, we're witnessing some of the first contemporary examples of global warming apparently contributing to the local extinction of an American mammal at sites across an entire eco-region."
His study found that pikas had vanished from seven of the twenty-five sites he had surveyed over a ten-year period in Nevada, California, and Oregon.
The World Wildlife Fund is continuing to provide grants for further pika research. Dr. Lara Hansen, a senior scientist with World Wildlife Fund Climate Change Program underscored the severity of the issue, "American pikas may unfortunately be the 'canary in the coal mine' when it comes to the response of alpine and mountain systems to global warming. Their disappearance is an indication that our heavy reliance on polluting fossil fuels is causing irreparable damage to our environment. We must make the switch to clean renewable energy resources like wind and solar now before it's too late."
Sketch by Jack Laws of Pika on Dana Plateau Donald Grayson, an archaeologist with the University of Washington, also published a study on pikas in a recent issue of the Journal of Biogeography . "Pikas are an iconic animal to people who like high elevations," he said. "They are part of the experience. What's happening to them is telling us something about the dramatic changes in climate happening in the Great Basin. Climate change will have a dramatic effect including important economic impacts, such as diminished water resources, on people."
Grayson notes that the Beever and Patton survey showed an increase of 1,700 feet in elevation in the range of the pika in Yosemite National Park. Today, pikas can be found only over 9,500 feet in Yosemite; in 1910, their range extended to as low as 7,800 feet.
These alarming trends have spurred environmental groups into action. Earthjustice and the Center for Biological Diversity have partnered to petition federal and state agencies to list the American pika as an endangered species. Although the initial request was refused, another suit was recently filed in October.
You can watch a video on pikas from Earthjustice below:
Although thunder began echoing off the surrounding granite peaks during our pika viewing, Jack and I remained in our observation seats, captivated by the movements of the hamster-like creature, who has managed to survive in an incredibly harsh environment despite its vulnerable appearance. I am grieved at the thought that our irresponsible environmental behavior may drive this intrepid creature to extinction.
As much as I cherish the magnificent granite peaks, glacial lakes, and spectacular views of the Dana Plateau, something will be irrevocably lost from the intrinsic character of the land and from the delight of my experience if one of the smallest inhabitants of its landscape disappears and if when hiking through the talus fields I no longer hear the sunny chirping of the pika.
Dude, Where's My Car?Our conference in Red Lodge ended this afternoon, yet before we could begin our trip back home to Yellowstone I had to shovel my buried car out from under two feet of snow. Even more impressive, the snowdrift covering the back of my vehicle rose to over three feet in height.
The first storm of the season wanted to make a good impression and it certainly succeeded. Snow has fallen steadily since Thursday afternoon and has no intention of stopping.
Embracing the Horror of WinterShowing my usual good judgment, I decided to drive back to Yellowstone instead of staying an extra night in Red Lodge. I reasoned that my Subaru could handle the conditions—once I was able to unbury it—and the resulting boost in morale at escaping from ground zero of the snowstorm would certainly outweigh the dangers of travel.
What I didn’t factor into my thinking is that Montana and Wyoming consider plowed roads unnecessary and cowardly. What’s a mere two feet of snow to drive through since everyone here owns half ton trucks and snowmobiles?
Our Bovine GuidesI did not, however, lose all of my good sense. Despite venturing into the unknown, we took good winter travel precautions—before leaving we secured a pizza from Bogart’s and ensured the iPod was fully charged.
Chief Joseph’s Highway, named for the famous Nez Perce Indian Chief, runs 46 miles from Wyoming to the northeast corner of Yellowstone. It’s also known as Sunlight Basin Road, although I saw scant evidence of sun during our journey. Dead Indian Pass, which marks the highest point on the route, rises to 8,060 feet. And on this day, a blanket of snow covered the entire 46 miles of road.
Unlike the wet, heavy snow I was accustomed to in the Sierra Nevada, the light, powdery snow in the mountain west drifts across the land like “white smoke.” The wind, partnering with the snow, can transform the landscape into a blank white screen. Needless to say, this doesn’t make for ideal driving conditions. Yet the mighty power of the Subaru (and our pizza slices) propelled us over the pass, along with some friendly cows wandering the terrain, who acted as bovine cairns marking our route.
My car is slowly being consumed by snow--we're going to attempt to drive back to Yellowstone this afternoon. I regret not bringing my skis as it would be easier to ski than drive through the Beartooths.
Help! The Snow Is Attacking!Yellowstone and the surrounding area is under siege from winter. The storm attacked last night, banishing 50 and 60 degree pleasant fall weather with billions of white snowflake soldiers. By Sunday, the landscape will be vanquished with up to four feet of white.
Despite my attempts to surrender and negotiate a few more weeks of fall, the storm continues to assault us. Today, I'm teaching at a conference on green business in Red Lodge, at the center of the battle, and the snow just keeps on falling. Luckily we have plenty of cookies and hot chocolate, so I don't anticipate any Donner-like scenarios.
Mt Moran and Fall ColorOn Monday, a business trip required traveling to the Grand Tetons, and the fall color provided us with spectacular scenery during our drive.
Grand Teton National Park, located south of Yellowstone (about three and a half hours from my home), offers me a dose of an Eastern Sierra-like basin and range landscape with its expansive valley surrounded by 12,000 feet plus granite peaks. There’s a definite shortage of granite in Yellowstone—volcanic rocks form a good part of this park’s mountainous terrain.
As we circled Jackson Lake and the surrounding terrain, the local flora--willows, aspens, cottonwoods—proudly displayed their fall costumes of yellows, reds, and oranges. The shiny grey peaks and the sky blue lake added their color to the painting of fall, while the breeze caressed the leaves off the trees and brought a slight chill to remind us of winter’s approach.
Fall Color Near Jackson LakeI donned my Patagonia down sweater and tried not to think about the onset of subzero temperatures, while nearby Mt Moran, having witnessed over 9 million winters, remained indifferent to the changing seasons. Maybe after a few more seasons here I'll be as detached as the mountains to the winter's bitter cold.
On the drive back to Yellowstone, we observed a hungry bear foraging for food near West Thumb. This bear, probably experiencing fall hyperphagia (basically the intense urge to gorge on as much food as possible before hibernation), did not even stop his feasting for a moment to raise his head--much to the dismay of those of us with cameras.
Tre and Susan, two of my good friends from California, visited me this week in Yellowstone. We enjoyed warm autumn weather for most of their trip, but a storm system is moving into the region tonight. After reading the forecast calling for 6-12 inches of snow, my friends promptly fled south—I had to exercise self-control not to join them. My winter anxiety became heightened since the special weather statement announced, “fall weather is about to come to an end with a sudden switch to winter conditions.” I guess I’ll pack my shorts away until next July!
Here’s a selection of photos from our travels in the park:
Fall at Old Faithful Basin
Tre & Susan in Yellowstone
Young Elk Calf
Old Faithful
Gibbon Falls
Fall Landscape Near Lower Geyser BasinTre, Susan and Beth
Krummholz Whitebark Pine on Mt. Washburn (NPS Library)The knarled and twisted trunk of the intrepid whitebark pine stands as a testament to the stubbornness of a tree and its will to survive in harsh conditions. Although found at a range of elevations above 7,000 feet, the whitebark gains character the higher it lives, as strong winds and freezing temperatures stunts its growth into a “krummholz” (German for crooked or bent) formation.
Whitebark Pine Seeds: A Grizzly Bear's Favorite Food!The nutrient-rich seeds of the whitebark pine support a diverse array of wildlife, from nuthatches and finches, to chipmunks and squirrels. Yet the seeds also provide one of Yellowstone’s largest mammals—the grizzly bear—with a vital component of its diet. Grizzly bears usually don’t pluck cones from the tree, but raid the middens of hardworking squirrels for the majority of their seed consumption.
Whitebark Pine in Yellowstone (NPS Library)Unfortunately, those consequences might already be occurring as the whitebark pine is suffering from several ailments—some of which are enhanced by climate change. The mountain pine beetle and the blister rust fungus have begun to gain a foothold, perhaps due to changing climatic conditions. An increase in the frequency of severe fires, also thought by some to be the result of global warming, creates conditions unfavorable for the tree.
