the Aspiring Ecologist

For Deployment

2012-02-02T23:19:00.001-07:00

This is what it looks like to be readying for deployment 15 bighorn sheep and 15 mountain goat GPS and VHF collars in your home. We stand to gain a significant amount of ecological information from the deployment of these collars, treading ground in the greater Yellowstone ecosystem that has never been tread before. The ultimate purpose being to benefit the conservation and management of both these regal species throughout the greater Yellowstone ecosystem. To read more about the project, visit www.gyamountainungulateproject.com

To read more about the GPS and VHF collars, visit the Telemetry Studies section in the Science page.

A Photographic Ode to the Adelie

2011-12-11T02:00:00.001-07:00

Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the much adored Adelie penguin. Over-enthusiastic. Over-excentric. And often very clumsy. Everyone wishes they were one, or at least had one for themselves...

Sealin'

2011-12-01T03:01:00.001-07:00

A typical mush pool of an atypical color. I wonder why it is that color??! Pup just came out of the water, mom always swimming nearby.

Mom peering through the mush

Our fearless french leader commanding the troops...

Darren and Thierry on our route out of North Base

McMurdo 5k Turkey Trot 2011!

2011-11-26T03:40:00.001-07:00

We like our turkeys cold!! And well massaged....

Video is best viewed by watching from Youtube.com here!

(Sorry about the poor quality video...due to poor video and editing skills)

Lewis Bay Helo and a Nice Crack

2011-11-23T22:24:00.001-07:00

Slugs of the Ice

2011-11-22T17:38:00.001-07:00

McMurdo Webcam

2011-11-21T17:03:00.001-07:00

http://www.usap.gov/videoclipsandmaps/mcmwebcam.cfm

Season Glimpse

2011-11-15T02:58:00.001-07:00

The season begins with very clean, tidy, and organized food shelves. A day later, its like Erebus erupted inside our hut...packages ripped apart, boxes strewn on the floor, cans balancing precariously on top of each other...

The last of the sunsets at camp. Now we have incessant light at all hours of the day.

Emperor penguins on the move at Big Razorback Island. These random groups, probably all juveniles or non-breeders, are seen every season a-wandering across the ice. They always look lost. Which makes sense because they are about 10 miles from the open ocean.

Penguin head

We grow big eyebrow-cicles down here.

Mom-pup pair at the Turk's Head colony. Pups are getting FAT these days. About 70 pounds at birth, twenty days later...170 pounds!!! Mom's milk is over 40% fat...highest in any mammal (that I know of)

Nearly every evening there is a dazzling light display in some form over the mountains. This is looking from McMurdo onto the sea ice, where a line of snow machines are parked.

A sudden storm ("condition one" storm; ie the worst category) during a typical day of seal research forced us into our emergency "Scott" tent. Visibility went to nill, the wind was whipping, and five people had to cram inside the "tiny, wet Scott tent" (as Jessica put it; she was stuck in there with four guys!). It seems alright to hunker down in a tent, but the humidity inside the tent is terrible...everything gets wet. And its cold. And you can't move because there is no room to. And you are there for another 6 hours. We had a Condition One Dance Party to keep us entertained (and warm) when we dared to leave the tent.

Can you feel the humidity and the cold? Luckily I brought an Outside Bozeman magazine to keep us entertained.

Happy Camper 2011

2011-10-23T03:20:00.001-06:00

Curious as to what the infamous "Happy Camper" entails? Here's a quick peak, shot by crew member Darren Roberts, edited by Mary Lynn Price.

"Antarctic Field Prep Continues"

2011-10-09T03:33:00.003-06:00

Rounding out the team: Mary Lynn, our fabulous videographer and videopodcaster, has arrived! Yay! Check out her new post here!

Within the week, our crew will be entirely trained for safe living and traveling on the sea ice and our field camp will be happily situated in the "Great White." The female seals should already be giving birth to wet, baggy-skinned pups, directly on the cold ice, regardless of the temperature and weather. Got to hand it to them...they are some phenomenal creatures.

Icy Arrival

2011-10-07T13:19:00.005-06:00

How fitting, eh? I'm on that plane somewhere...! Photo courtesy Katie, my girlfriend.

Departure is bittersweet. My girlfriend saw me off, ensuring I was well supplied with a collection of home-baked cookies (which I DID share with the rest of the crew) and a bundle of great memories to reminisce on while I'm on my way. All the flight details were just the same as always: a jumble of airports and airplanes, masses of people, time compressing and expanding depending on what you are doing or thinking. Amidst this, our crew met in the airport of Los Angeles, Darren* and Colleen* arrived first, followed by myself, then Thierry and Mike*, and finally Jess. (*=newbies!). After much excited yakking, we all boarded the near-midnight plane bound for Auckland, New Zealand.

Somehow, eventually, we found ourselves in Christchurch, home of the United States Antarctica Program and the point of departure (or ICE flight) for Antarctica. Prior to deployment to that icy place, we are required to obtain our ECW (extreme cold weather) gear, which entails dressing up in all of our warmest clothing to ensure proper fit. Everything about flight preparations is finely choreographed and detailed, and we are always well taken care of by the fine folks at the USAP.

During our time in Christchurch, we had time to explore the area, and with our hotel close to downtown, Thierry and I took a walk around...which is completely shut off due to the earthquake back in February. The damage is frighteningly extensive, and it appears it will be a long time before it is opened again. I believe about 200 people were killed in this earthquake, and my heart goes out to all those impacted. I cannot imagine what they have gone through.

The crew...taking pictures of mallards. From left to right: Thierry (PhD student), Michael, Darren, Jessica, Colleen.

The next day, after waking up early early, we headed back to USAP, grabbed our bags, passed through security, ate a little breakfast at the Antarctica center, and boarded the C17 (I love this thing!)

Typical ice flight shot

Enclosed in the belly of the C17, you basically see nothing of the world as it passes by (there are tiny little windows to peer out of, but usually its of clouds or nothing but ice). "Flight attendants" are comprised of members of the Air Force (from Seattle, I believe)...they make this flight many time over. After 6 hours of the loud hum of the plane and the droning rumble of the jets, you are quite suddenly landing on the ice! Tires on ice, touch down is smooth as silk.

Bright blue cold day

Yay!

the cold against the face, the crunch of the boots, the HUGE expansiveness of ICE! Sooo happy to be back!

the infamous Ivan the Terra Bus

And so the adventure begins! It will still be some time before we even see the seals due to training and research logistics in McMurdo, but it will be soon!!

Packing for the ICE!

2011-09-29T15:28:00.000-06:00

BEFORE shot -- got everything I need at ready! On the left is most of my backpacking gear for post-Antarctica travel in New Zealand, and the majority of stuff on the right is my gear for Antarctica.

AFTER shot -- defying the laws of physics, everything fit...except for the furniture and the dog...they just wouldn't squeeze in. And Abby was looking forward to going SOOO much! Look how sad! Awww :(

It is time again! The southern-most mammal species in the world is calling! The Weddell seal research team from Montana State University will UNITE and DESCEND upon Antarctica for the 42nd season of population ecology research. Our flights, from various airports, leave tomorrow, and will converge on Los Angeles, where the team will reunite and welcome its new team members. From there, we fly to Christchurch, obtain our ECW gear (extreme cold weather gear), board the belly of a bird, and fly south to McMurdo Station on Oct 4, if all goes as planned.

This being my second year and knowing what to expect, there is a feeling of comfort in returning to this place. Regardless of the frenzied winds and frozen extremities that accompany being present on the ice-laden continent, all I can say to those that can only ask "why?!?" is "BLEH!" (that's the sound a Weddell seal makes when they are lounging on the ice even in the coldest, fiercest conditions...they love it down there and I do too!).

This year, our crew will have several avenues where you can keep up to date with the research:

1) Right here
2) the Weddell Seal Science video blog
3) Facebook
4) Twitter

And check out the official website, Weddell Seal Science, to learn about the history and purpose of the project, as well as watch some very cool videos produced by Mary Lynn Price (who will be joining us again this season)!

Bleh!

2011-08-04T15:03:00.002-06:00

I don't even know where to begin with this, my first post since April! The past few months have flown by, and I hold much regret for my lack in writing. My initial intent was to document the development and progress of Robert Garrott's new research endeavor, the Greater Yellowstone Area Mountain Ungulate Project, as well as the duties and challenges I have experienced in my position as part of the project. Instead, I will summarize the current status and progress of the research I was/am/will be doing and then try harder in the future to write more!

During my time in Antarctica last fall-winter, Robert Garrott (from MSU, whom I have worked for in Antarctica and Yellowstone), offered me a full time position for 10.5 months as a "Research Assistant III," which I cheerfully accepted. The position was threefold, including field work: (1) in Yellowstone during the spring performing elk population estimates of the Madison headwaters elk herd, (2) in the greater Yellowstone ecosystem (which includes all mountain ranges surrounding Yellowstone NP) aiding in the development and field work of the mountain ungulate project, and then (3) back in Antarctica this fall, for anther season studying Weddell seal population ecology.

Madison headwaters elk - Spring 2011
Mark-resight surveys were done for about a month to obtain an estimate of the Madison elk population in Yellowstone for this spring, which has been in continuous decline. Mark-resight basically says this: If you have a known amount of collared individuals in a population, and you take the ratio of collared individuals to uncollared individuals that you see in a survey event, you can obtain a population estimate. If you do a bunch of these surveys, you can get an average population estimate. So, every day, we drove the drainages (Madison, Firehole, Gibbon rivers) counting all the elk, noting whether they were collared or not. We were also able to put out two new collars during a Fish and Wildlife Techniques course offered by the Ecology Department at Montana State. This upped the number of collars deployed to seven...but then two elk died not too long after (different individuals than were just collared). They just couldn't outlast the winter, which was a very harsh one.

These surveys resulted in a final spring population estimate of 47, down significantly from last years estimate of 72.

Greater Yellowstone area Mountain Ungulate Project

The project has its beginnings in 2009, as Robert Garrott began entertaining and acting on an idea to study bighorn sheep and mountain goats in the greater Yellowstone ecosystem. His idea gained momentum as more state and federal agencies took interest in the research. It may be of surprise to you to know that mountain goats are not native to the Yellowstone area. Biologists in the 1950's and onward began introducing mountain goats to several ranges in Montana, Wyoming, and Idaho for sportsman. Since those introductions, mountain goats have been expanding, pushing further into the high mountains in and around Yellowstone. The expansion of this white climbers range has butted right into bighorn sheep range, and there is much concern over the effects of this, as bighorn are notorious for succumbing to many different pressures, primarily diseases, destruction of habitat, and becoming pancaked on roads and highways. So what effects are the nonnative mountain goat having on the bighorn sheep? No one really knows.

This, and also the interest in much more detailed habitat models, population dynamics, and spatial dynamics for both species, has motivated biologists from the tristate area to form a large collaboration in the pursuit of mountain ungulate knowledge. ("Ungulate" refers to any hoofed animal, "mountain ungulate" refers to those hoofed animals that inhabit the high mountain areas, which, in our case, is only the mountain goat and the bighorn sheep.)

And so I was hired.

Since then, my skillset as an aspiring ecologist has quadrupled.

Here is a rundown of the tasks I have been charged with:

--Writing of proposals to obtain permits for radio-collar related capture for various agencies, including Yellowstone NP, US Forest Service, Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks, Wyoming Game and Fish Department
--Writing of a proposal for the International Animal Care and Use Committee
--Writing of a proposal for a US Geological Survey grant (unsuccessful)
--Creation of a database for capture and radio-collar data (GPS and VHF)
--Videography and editing for media to be published online
--Initiating the development of a website for the project (soon to be published! I will let you know!)
--Ordering field equipment
--Collecting spring reproduction data from collared bighorn sheep
--Performing occupancy surveys as part of Megan O'Reilly's Masters project (more on this later!)

From this viewpoint (in the Gros Ventres, WY), we found three of the collared ewes we were seeking, two with lambs.

Splendid blendin'

Winter-worn coat of a collared sheep. Looks diseased(!), but normal for this time of year. Give her a few weeks, and she will look like she's off to the Prom.

Weddell Seal Ecology, Antarctica

Logistics for getting down to Antarctica are quite intense, and these are being spearheaded by PhD student Thierry Chambert, whom I worked with last year on the ice. It is required to be PQ'd (physically qualified) to lessen the chances that they will have to fly you back to civilization with some raging fingernail disease. So, after two dentist visits (luckily I didn't have to do a physical again this year), I was PQ'd, and now I'm ready to tag some seals! We depart around Oct. 1 for New Zealand, and then McMurdo, Antarctica.

Last season, we successfully deployed a round of temperature tags on seal pups and got some very cool data looking at how much time they spend swimming. See below!

The following is data collected from temperature tag sensors placed on the rear flippers from two Weddell seal pups. One swims many more times in its life. How do we know this (see if there are any biological thinkers out there!)????

This up and coming season, I will be organizing and leading the deployment of another round of temperature tags. More on this to come!

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If you are interested in getting a better glimpse of the challenges and work of a dedicated biologist currently undertaking a Master's degree, Robert Miller (at Boise State University) has a wonderful blog documenting all aspects of the process as he attempts to better understand Northern goshawk ecology.

Black Bear Challenge--a different kind of ecology

2011-04-28T17:51:00.000-06:00

All photos thanks to Beth Elzinga

Who would have thought that skills acquired while studying wolves, elk, woodpeckers, and trees would help you conquer! The skill I am speaking of is that of map and compass, which both Katie (my girlfriend) and I came to possess after previous field work. Katie gained it whilst working as a forestry technician for the Bureau of Land Management and the U.S. Forest Service, and I gained it whilst working for the Forest Service and Montana State in Yellowstone N.P. And what did we conquer???

With no experience and only half an idea of what it even is, Katie and I took part in our first ever adventure race, called the Black Bear Challenge, the beginner version of the Grizzly Man Adventure Race, in Missoula, Montana. We raced as a coed team, and we are still dating.

The beauty and terrain of the course. We didn't have to climb those white peaks, though would have been fun.

I came up with the team name Pika, thinking that, wouldn't it be cool if a little squeaky psuedo-rabbit of the high alpine dominated every other team (this is the type of stuff Katie puts up with dating an ecologist)?? Far chance I thought.

The race requires the use of map and compass only (no GPS, no homing pigeons, etc) to find 16 stations dispersed throughout a 28,000 acre forest. We were given the coordinates of each station the night before, at around 7pm, giving us the rest of the night to map out all the stations and pick a route (which takes much longer than you would think and forces you to lose sleep that is typically needed before an EIGHT HOUR race). The next day, the shotgun blasted and we were off at 9am. Everyone starts out running, but in about half a mile, is walking...the mountains are steep!

"don't you be breakin' no rules, ya hear?" This is how Montanan's do things

And we're off!

There are two ways you can navigate the woods...you can run madly up and down ridges and peaks that appear to be the correct location on the map based on the topography, or you can use your compass to travel along a straight line or bearing through the trees, sticking to your bearing no matter what topography or otherwise confronts you (mountain, creek, snow, cougar, etc). We were relentless on the latter, only rarely pocketing our compass and traveling based off of map topography. We hiked straight up steep slopes only to hike straight down another, just so we could hike back up another, and down the other side....but we had to stick to our compass bearing, no matter what, or we would miss the station.

How do you keep a bearing in a forest? You "shoot" your bearing, picking a tree that it lines up with, hiking to that tree, then shoot another bearing to another tree. Between bearings may only be 5 feet depending on tree density! When a station is found, you punch your "passport" with a punch specific to that station, and continue on to the next station.

The station with puncher hidden in the woods

Katie and I slogged along all day, slowly but surely gaining more and more stations, as our bearings made late the night before were right on. But as time went on...well...time went on. Before we knew it, we had been out for hours, and we started thinking "sheesh...we aren't going to even come close to winning...most of the teams have probably finished by now!" Conditions became miserable...slipping and sliding up and down slopes completely iced and snowy, legs becoming more and more weary. Around our 12th station it became obvious that we would have to sacrifice one station if we were to make it back to the finish time at the required 5pm finish time. We gained our 15th station, and headed for our bikes (another requirement in the race is that you have to finish with your bike...no bike=disqualified. You can use your bike at any time during the race, however you choose to use it. Katie and I chose just to leave it till last, just to pedal to the finish). We had approximately 20 minutes left to get to the finish...and I was sure we were barely going to make it.

All my hope drained when we reached our bikes. Katie's tire was flat. I proceeded to rant about how dumb I was to not completely fix Katie's barely flat tire from the night before. The whole race, all that effort, all for nothing...because of a stupid decision. Katie tried to make me feel better, saying "it's ok...it's not your fault"...yeah, sure whatever, I ranted to myself. But there was only one thing to do....change the flat and ride in to the finish. To my amazement (and I think I impressed Katie a little too), I changed the tire in about 3 minutes or less, and we were off again, pedaling madly to the finish. We crossed the finish line with less than 4 minutes to spare.

We were disappointed that we hadn't made better time as we expected to finish in about 4-5 hours. Instead it took us almost 8 hours. But we were pleased over the adventure of it nonetheless.

At the awards ceremony..."First place for coed to Team Pika!!!" 7 hours, 57 minutes, 9 seconds. We had three more stations than second place, and four more than third place.

Recovering and sympathizing

Don't know why I'm striking a supermodel pose.

Retrieving our prizes at the award ceremony

And finally just able to relax in the warm Easter sunshine.

Much thanks to Beth Elzinga (Katie's mother) for taking all the photos!

Are some Weddell seal pups couch potatoes?

2011-04-18T10:12:00.002-06:00

New video on weddellsealscience.com!

And iTunes users...support the WSS Video Podcast!

One Scoop and the Season Begins: The Return to Yellowstone

2011-03-23T22:28:00.001-06:00

The snow is packed high in central Yellowstone. Standing under the full moon sky, shadows starkly contrasting against the silver-blue snow (apparently the largest full moon in 18 years), Claire (my coworker for the season), Katie (my girlfriend), and I clamber up a six foot high wall of snow pushed up on the margins of the bridge at Madison Junction by the snow plows on their annual migration to clear all the roads in preparation for the masses. But for now, the park is clear of all visitors. And the researchers are back, continuing the project's 20th season of elk population research.

The research has been pared down considerably, as the project has published its primary findings. However, interest in the outcome of the elk population due to wolf presence still remains. Will the population be eliminated from the Madison-Firehole drainages completely? Or is last season's pulse of new calves that survived the winter signaling a stabilization of the population?

On arrival to the study site earlier that day, we checked all the collared cow elk for survival. Elk # 320...alive. Elk # 306...alive. Elk # 323...alive. Elk # 292...alive. Elk # 319...alive. Elk # 315...where are you? Faintly, I hear the tell-tale mortality signal. Rigged with a sensor that detects movement, the collars switch to a "mortality" signal when movement stops. Higher pitched, quicker tempo. Only one other time had I heard this from one of our collared elk.

The next day, we geared up, antennas and receivers in hand, and marched off toward the signal. We crossed the shallow Gibbon River, scrambled up the steep bank and trekked through the dense dog-hair lodgepole. For hours we marched, slogging through the heavy snow, dragging our snow-laden snowshoes along beneath us. We followed the strength of the signal obsessively, like a wolf following the scent of an elk. It led us up out of the creek bottom into unburned slopes, then up and down forested swales. The signal looped us back toward the upper reaches of the creek...louder and louder...now pounding...it must be near.

It must be near, yes. But...the snow is four feet deep...and who knows how long ago the elk died...for all we know, the collar could be at the very bottom, anywhere within a 20 square foot area. I'm not about to dig out the whole neighborhood to find a collar...we will just have to come back when the snow is gone. All this, going through my head. I was verging on voicing my concerns, when Claire declares, "well...I think you should start digging somewhere here...I don't know where...just pick a place." Thinking her crazy, I mentally roll my eyes, bend over, and make a single scoop in the snow. "You hit it!!" Claire exclaims in a near scream. I stop my digging, looking at her bewildered. The signal had switched from mortality to its normal pulse, which only means one thing. My shovel scoop had shifted the motion detector. I had hit the collar on the first scoop. I bent over, brushed away some snow, and lifted the collar from its cold grave.

And thus, the season in Yellowstone begins!!

What are the chances?

The joy of discovery

Katie pretending to be a smiling collared cow elk.

Weddell Seal Science

2011-03-01T21:13:00.003-07:00

The official Weddell Seal Science website has finally arrived! There are new videos, photos, and even free ringtone downloads (for the hardcore Weddell seal enthusiasts)! You can also follow updates on Twitter, Facebook, or YouTube. Much of the site is under construction, but take a tour, listen to some seal banterings and enjoy the strange lives of these blubberous seals...the southern-most, ice-loving, blizzard-proof mammal in the world!

Also, check out these amazing current aerial shots of Antarctica.

And these interesting sites:
http://www.polarview.aq/

http://rapidice.org/viewer/

Aspiring? Yes...yes, indeed

2011-02-13T19:42:00.002-07:00

Since I began my blog, I have been confronted by several people unhappy about the title of my blog:
"You ARE an ecologist" they say, "not an aspiring ecologist!"
To you kind-hearted and well-meaning friends, I must silence you.

For the past two weeks I have been fully engaged in a new position at Montana State University, working for the same professor who hired me for the central Yellowstone elk and wolf project and the Weddell seal Antarctica project. Following Antarctica, my performance in the field (and the classroom) somehow convinced him that I was worth hiring for a duration of 10.5 months (for those not familiar with wildlife tech jobs...that is 3-4x longer than most positions) to work on aspects of THREE of his research projects, these being: continued elk population study in Yellowstone, new studies in the greater Yellowstone area on bighorn sheep and mountain goats, and then returning to Antarctica for next season's round of seal work. It quite possibly could be the coolest wildlife tech position ever created. So why am I not an ecologist?

Well, all I know about being an ecologist is the field-related logistics and tasks. When it comes to the thoughtful design of research projects and the analysis of data, I find myself lacking. It's actually this position at MSU that has shown me how far from being an ecologist I am. During these winter months, as my professor is trying to give the sheep and goat project some legs of its own, I've been given the task of writing proposals for grants and permits and writing protocols. This is not like blogging...this is technical, scientific writing. An entirely new side of the instigation, development, and administration of research projects has been revealed to me. These are duties and tasks I am not wholly comfortable with....I am just a mere field technician!

And thus it is....I am continuing to reach for the stars...aspiring for something more...continuing the process in becoming an ecologist, with the skill sets and knowledge to reach broadly and specifically into revealing the secrets of the often abused and misconstrued biological world.

I AM an aspiring ecologist.

And because I know everyone likes pictures (got to keep my blog exciting!), here's some Australia and New Zealand titillations from my travels post-Antarctica (the reason no blogging has occurred for months).

Typical off-the-beaten track Australian campsite, and our wonderful 4x4 Toyota Land Cruiser RV!

Momma and the wombat

Two paths diverged in the bush...

Goanna (~2 feet long)

Mungo National Park

The outback at Mungo National Park

Locals

Shingleback Lizard (chubs)

No feeding of the sulphur-crested cockatoos!

Jon and I at the highest point in the nation of Australia and the highest point on the continent of Australia (!)

Sydney with Grady (a friend and psuedo-Aussie from Montana State, living in Australia on stint for Campus Crusade for Christ in Newcastle)

A favorite hobby of mine: petting sharp, spiky critters...this being an echidna (an egg-laying mammal)

Front end of the echidna...short rubber tube jobby is its nose

Enjoying the refreshing waters of the Snowy River

At the top of the continent with the parents!

Ma and Pa

Wedge-tailed eagle

Superb fairy wren

Koala! AAAHH!

Getting "drunk" on eucalyptus

Mt Cook/Aoraki National Park

photo courtesy Jon Oset

Conversing and cooking with fellow travelers on a beautiful lake in a gorgeous valley in an amazing country

Jon didn't know it, but we were searching for Blue Ducks

Arthur's Pass National Park, on the trail to Avalanche Peak

Kea, the mountain parrot

NZ fur seals--photo courtesy Jon Oset

En route to Milford Sound--photo courtesy Jon Oset

A Green Christmas

2010-12-23T20:15:00.001-07:00

I've never experienced such contrasts. For two and a half months, our crew made Antarctica home, or at least as home as Antarctica would let us. The sea ice, where we worked, lived, and slept, became as familiar to us as my backyard in Idaho. The uninhibited white stretched before us everyday, as we went about our research amidst the groaning seals. We became accustomed to the cold temperatures (but did not complain when conditions got "tropical" by the end of the season). The immense Mt Erebus, steamingly eyeing us from above, although always awe-inspiring, became part of the backdrop. The things that were so striking and surprising when we first arrived, became part of the daily routine. It's as if we've only ever known daylight to be constant for 24 hours. To become comfortable in a place, is to make it home, at least for the vagabond biologist, and that's what the field camp at Big Razorback Island in Antarctica became.

Post snow petrel flyby

Exploring the innards of a snow cave/ crevasse in the Erebus Glacier Tongue

But suddenly, our crew found ourselves packing and cleaning, tearing down the field camp and moving to McMurdo in preparation to leave the great white of Antarctica. We took our last steps on the ice on Dec 16, boarded the C17. Five hours later, our feet found purchase on the wet asphalt on a warm and rainy New Zealand night. The smell of plants and soil wafted upon us, the dark night engulfed us. Our life of white and cold was quickly replaced by green and warm.

Waiting to board the C17 (sniff, sniff)

In the belly of the whale

Note the dudes in the hammocks and camp chair

Birds are singing out my window as I write this. Flowers are in bloom. Trees are getting trimmed, lawns are getting mowed. Decorated Christmas trees with presents aplenty can be seen through open doors and windows as you pass by, letting the summer breeze in. A Christmas in the southern hemisphere. White for green, and though Christmas makes me miss the white already...green is pretty darn nice too.

Green New Zealand (Akaroa in Banks Peninsula)

The obligatory sheep picture

More green

Tui (too-ee) at Hinewai Reserve, Banks Peninsula (note band on leg--this bird was introduced to the Reserve a few years ago to try to reinstate native communities to the area)

Night exists!

I am not alone this Christmas, don't you worry. My gracious host family (from a previous study abroad experience I had here) took me in, and, on Christmas day, I fly to Australia to meet my parents. An unusual Christmas for the DeVoe family (minus Luke), but joyous nonetheless.

"Bleh!" (translation: "Merry Christmas!")

Merry Christmas to all eight of my blog readers!! Enjoy the white if you have it, but most importantly, enjoy family and friends, and dwell on the blessings of God....

Skua Tug O War

2010-12-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

Can anyone guess what they are using as the "rope"?

Seal Pup Surprise

2010-12-11T14:34:00.001-07:00

At the outset of my arrival in Antarctica, I intended to update my blog regularly in such a way that my readers could gain a better sense of the seal research we are doing and of the on-the-ice lifestyle. I have failed miserably(!)...however, I hope that what was seen here was eye-opening, interesting, and/or entertaining.

As of now, our crew has 3 more days in Antarctica. We fly from McMurdo to Christchurch, NZ on Dec 15, and thus will end the 2010 Weddell seal field season. However, I intend to keep updating my blog with some of the season's highlights and excitements as time goes on. It is also worth it to keep an eye on (or check out if you haven't already) Mary Lynn Price's Weddell Seal Science website, although it will remain dormant for a few weeks to come as she resumes video editing in a month or so. Or you can just check back here for updates on that.

For now, I will treat you to another pup video. This taken at Turtle Rock two days ago. Most of the momma seals have completely abandoned their pups, and the pups must learn to get a long on their own now...and they are still learning the ropes on the ice....

To enlarge, click on the movie AGAIN after it has started playing. From there you can even enlarge it more by clicking the symbol in the bottom right hand corner of the video.

Seals by Air

2010-12-04T21:49:00.001-07:00

Most of our research is accomplished by snowmobile every day, but occasionally, we have the opportunity to work from the sky. This video was captured during two helicopter flights, one to find any seals hidden behind ice pressure ridges or large ice masses that we missed in our first tagging efforts, and another to find any tagged seals outside of our study area (at Tera Nova Bay) to assess the amount of emigration out of the study population. The resulting video is nothing special, in fact, it is very poorly done, as I am just learning the ropes of video editing (using Adobe Premiere Elements 9) and don't have a lot of time on my hands (apparently, editing video can take a very, very long time, at least in my case!). I provide no distinction during the video between the two flights, but first half is in an A-Star helicopter and the second half is in a Bell helicopter.

The tiny black dots on the edges of the islands and cracks are seals!!

To make the video BIGGER, click on it AGAIN after it has started playing.

The Ob Tube

2010-11-26T20:48:00.002-07:00

Below the Ice

At temperatures below freezing, the water below the ice is crystal clear. The sun shines through the ice above emanating colors of blue, green, yellow, and orange, accenting the deep blue of the watery world below. A large jellyfish slowly pulses its path through the water. The edge of Ross Island can be seen, dropping down to the depths; scattered along its underwater slope crawl bright red starfish and sea spiders. White, flat, and shoe-lace-like, large worms creep along the sediment. Shrimp-like critters (amphipod? decapod? copepod? I'm not a marine biologist!) swim placidly through the water column and along the underside of the ice. Tiny, silver, antigregarious (I make words up sometimes) fish are spaced throughout the water column, moving ever-so-slowly...you would too if you were so cold! *Interesting side note: Antarctic fish have anti-freeze proteins they use to keep the water inside their cells and blood from freezing, since the temperature of the water is below the freezing point of their blood.

As terrestrial creatures studying Weddell seals, we are only able to observe the seals while they are on top of the ice or blowing bubbles in the holes in the ice. But they're real home is the water, which is why all the pups are learning to swim. They will spend most of their lives in the water after mommy leaves them. One could put cameras under the ice at tide cracks or send a well-insulated diver down to watch and record the seals, or one could use an "Ob Tube" (or Observation Tube). The Ob Tube is a vertical tube placed through the ice and into the water, just large enough for a man to crawl down to the bottom, where a very small space encircled with windows gives a 360 degree view of the world below the ice. It is an enchanting experience for us who are always trying NOT to go below the ice (by falling in a crack or otherwise), but are always wondering..."what is it like down there?"

Hmmm...deep dark tunnel of delight

Looking back up the tube

Inside the Ob Tube--Glenn scanning for seals

Thierry hunting for penguins or seals out the windows

Tiny fish in the deep blue

Unfortunately, we are not permitted to have our own Ob Tube, but a visit to one right outside of McMurdo suffices for us, especially when we are treated to a real, underwater swimming seal (that is tagged!). Sorry the video quality is so dark and poor, you might have to turn off all the lights and watch it at night to see anything:

Learning to Swim

2010-11-19T00:47:00.001-07:00

Part of the process:

Video and editing thanks to Jessica Farrer, Weddell seal technician

Pura Antarctica

2010-11-18T03:42:00.000-07:00

The Antarctic summer has begun: the sun makes a complete circuit above our head every day, never dipping below the horizon. The light effects on the edge of the photo are called sundogs, formed from ice crystals in the air.

The summer sun, in its seemingly-perpetual circling of the southern-most continent, like a halo being drawn and redrawn across the margins of the sky, has begun its deconstruction of the frozen seas. The sea-ice edge creeps closer into Erebus Bay, the once frozen and hard layer of ice being stripped clean off the surface, revealing the depths of ocean below. The northern-most edges of Ross Island, not long ago like a mountain rising from a plain, now lay bare to the wind-tossed sea. The melting ice must bring joy to the Adelie penguin's heart, for no longer does this short, excitedly gesturing penguin have to traverse miles on the ice upon its short legs to find its colony at Cape Royds. Now, the hurried penguin can take a relatively short waddle-jaunt to claim its prime nesting spot in the colony.

Adelie penguins chillaxin' on the sea-ice edge. Royal Society Range in the background.

Adelie penguins on nesting site at Cape Royds.

These are the early arrivals, getting the primo nesting spots. There was endless squabbling over pebbles and stones as one penguin would steal a stone from someone else's nest to build up its nest. Lots of emphatic displays, gesturing, and guffawing.

Further inland (or "inice," as the case is here), vast stretches of flat frozen ocean still lay firm and strong. As the summer slowly sneaks forward, the tidal cracks along the edges of the islands like Big Razorback and Tent Island, and along the coast of Ross Island at Turks Head and Hutton Cliffs, begin to widen. Mush pools form, areas of...well...mush. The melting ice gathers in depressions creating these pools of thick porridge of ice and water, much like the consistency of a tropical fruit smoothie. And in these mush pools and tidal cracks, the Weddell seal pups are learning to swim.

Mom and pup in slush pool...they often just lay there for hours.

To be continued...

Tagging the Seal

2010-10-30T20:09:00.005-06:00

Newborn pup, within the past few days

"bleh!" says pup.

"Blehhh!" says mom.

Thus greeted, the Weddell seal research team takes their positions. One man armed with tagging pliers, one man ready to distract the mom (or alert the tagger that "mom's a'comin'!!"). The process is usually over in less than a minute, and results in another tagged seal pup, adding to the over 20,000 individuals tagged in the past 41 years of this study.

Mom's tag

Pup's tags (with a temperature sensor tag, which will be removed near weaning time...this will be explained in a later post)

It is a fascinating endeavor, to go out on the sea ice of Antarctica seeking every single new born pup in our study area and to tag them. The process: "look there's a seal over there with a pup!" Upon approach, we check the seal's colored tags, which are placed on the rear flippers. If it has both tags and the numbers are readable (for each tag is inscribed with a number, so that each seal has a uniquely numbered and colored tag, and thus each seal can be individually identified), we gear up for tagging the pup. This new life on the ice will from then on forever be known to the Weddell researchers (assuming both its tags don't fall off). As I said before, this study has been going on for upwards of 40 years, so with this data, the lineages of some of our oldest seals can be uncovered (our oldest so far being 28 years old): who her mom was, how many and who her pups were/are, if her pups have ever returned or been seen again, how many pups her pups have had (making her a grandma....aaawww!), etc. With this much data, processes and variation in Weddell seal population dynamics slowly becomes revealed.

A new "tagger" (as we call them):

This is a very unique study for three primary reasons:

For one, it is a very long term study. In fact, it's THE longest running research on a marine mammal in Antarctica.

For another, the environment that these seals live in has been untouched and uncorrupted by the hand of man. It is a very healthy population of seals and provides a baseline of sorts for population dynamics of other long-lived marine mammals. As Jay Rotella, professor and Weddell seal researcher from Montana State University analogizes: it's like studying a healthy human. If you don't know what a healthy person looks like, how can you know how sick an unhealthy person is. The Weddell seals are healthy, most all other seal populations are unhealthy or unnaturally affected by humans.

The third reason is our ability to even study a marine mammal with this much detail. Most marine mammals don't remain this visible and accessible and won't permit or tolerate close proximity with humans. The Weddell seals, however, have no above ice predators and thus have no reason to fear anything that walks upon the ice. Seals anywhere else in the world would scatter and disappear to the sea if they saw a biped drawing near. The Weddells don't even look up until you are right next to them.

Some videos and photos:

All the sounds in this video are from the seal...turn up your speakers!!

RoboSeal...part of another group of scientist's research. These seals are equipped with GPS locators...now we can know exactly where they go!

Every day is an absolute blast. The seals are a constant source of entertainment, and I'm always fascinated by the diverse personalities. Some mom's only glance at you when you grab their pup and tag it, while others won't let you even get near the pup....but we have our tactics for drawing them away long enough to get the tags deployed. We have already tagged over 250 (I believe) new pups and we are only about half way done. It is peak pupping right now, and every day we go out, there are brand new pups to be tagged. Once the pup is born, the mom's stay on top of the ice for several days while the pups nurse, very quickly turning the pups from scrawny sacs of bone into plump and rotund blobs of engorged leaches (the mom's milk fat content being somewhere around 50%, I believe). The mom's won't eat ANYTHING until the pup is weaned, thus transferring a high percent of her body weight directly to the pup during nursing. It's a big investment....eat eat eat to be fat fat fat, so you can give birth and stay on the ice with the pup (who can't swim until around 10+ days old) until he is fat fat fat and can find food on his own, about 35 days later. All this leads to another part of our research: studying the mass dynamics of Weddell seals. This I hope to touch on, with photos, in later posts.

Not a Weddell seal! This is a crabeater seal...they can be a little crabby sometimes. Note longer snout, lighter color, different patterned coat (Weddell seal in background). I've only seen two of these dudes.

Dead seal?

Even I have to call them cute.

Snowmobiling to the seals. Islands from left to right: Big Razorback, Tent, Little Razorback, Inaccesible.

The circle of rainbow light around the sun is called a sundog...a part of ever-amazing Antarctic wonders

Sundog and Seals

The ever-looming Mt. Erebus

The first bird of the season (for me)...a South Polar Skua...they only can survive here because of the Weddell seals. They eat the placentas that are left on the ice before the placentas freeze solid.

And the first penguins have arrived (since it is spring in Antarctica, all its animal life is returning from their winter homes in more northerly latitudes)! Emperor Penguins here:

And, after a hard days work of tagging and counting seals:

I find it to be an honor to be working with such a unique organism on such a unique research project in such a unique location. There are a lot of "unique's" in Antarctica!

Don't forget about Weddell Seal Science!

And I recently discovered the McMurdo live webcam.

Weddell Seal Science video blog

2010-10-27T13:53:00.002-06:00

For those who have been unaware, and have been waiting desperately for new posts on my blog (much honest apologies!), there is a place to go to allay your desperation!

This year, the Weddell seal research team is fortunate to have Mary Lynn Price on board, who is an esteemed videographer of science and educational materials. She has already uploaded several videos to the Weddell Seal Science blog documenting the many aspects of our research project in Erebus Bay! Also, you can get video podcasts on iTunes, just search for DiveFilm HD Video. Also here! Check them out...you'll be pleasantly surprised!

And I'll just throw this in:

The first Emperor Penguins of the season (and my first ever!) wandering along the Cape Evans Road

Boxes on the Ice

2010-10-16T14:12:00.000-06:00

The Center of Excellence (the outhouse), so named by the McMurdo carpenters who constructed all of our huts, making them extremely comfortable, liveable, and warm. Note Big Razorback Island and the blobs of seals on the ice at the head of the island.

It's 2 am. I have to go pee. I try not to bang my head on the ceiling or do a body slam on the floor as I groggily crawl and ease myself down from the top bunk in the men's sleeping hut. I slip on my down booties and open the door. "Aaahh! my eyes!" I exclaim (quietly and to myself, since everyone is sleeping). Bright light harshly greets my blinking eyes. "Huh...the sun is shining." This surprise is met by another, and just as fiercely. It's FREEZING outside. I run towards the bathroom (called the "Center of Excellence"), making sure to glance up at Mt. Erebus, glowing in the sun, a small wisp of steam coming from the volcano's crater. Crunch, crunch, crunch...I keep running...crunch, crunch, crunch...the sound always reminding me that I'm walking on sea ice overlaying, well, the sea (and who knows how deep). To my right a subtle, distant moan reminds me that we have neighbors. Twenty seals lay sprawled out on the ice, all doing absolutely nothing aside from the occasional flipper twitch, or belly scratch, or belly roll. The fractures and cracks in the ice formed along Big Razorback Island providing their only outlet to the "upper world," the seals can be seen chillin' on the ice at all hours of the day.

Mt Erebus, the southern-most active volcano in the world. From our camp it looks like you could just take a stroll to the top...but then you start to think about it: 12,500 feet tall and we are at sea level...

Such is the life of the Weddell seal researcher. Twenty-four hour sunlight, freezing air temperatures, awe-inspiring views, expansive ice, and seals. Throw in the occasional white-out storm and 40 mph winds, and that's Antarctica.

Field camp is finally all set up now, the finishing touches being the wireless internet and phone. Camp consists of five huts: a kitchen hut, equipment hut, ladies sleeping hut, mens sleeping hut, and outhouse. All the huts (minus the outhouse) are heated with propane gas...which is a welcome relief after a long, cold day riding snowmobiles and finding seals. All the electricity, used to run all of our technical equipment (computers, chargers, etc), is obtained by borrowing a few of the sun's rays via solar panels. We have enough hot cider to last us a couple of years (ok, that's an over-exaggeration), an espresso maker (which we scavenged from "Skua," a second-hand depository for those leaving McMurdo station who don't want to take their clothing or equipment back to the States), and even have a barbecue grill for the occasional hamburger dinner.

The Weddell seal field camp at Big Razorback Island

We are each provided with a snowmobile to cross the huge distances across the sea ice.

Our lazy neighbors

The huts: #5 kitchen hut, #11 equipment hut, #13 ladies hut, #18 (below) mens hut. Mt. Erebus half-lit in sunlight in background left, Big Razorback Island in background right.

Tent Island to the left, Inaccessible Island to the right.

Inside the kitchen hut...the social gathering spot.

Men's sleeping hut.

If you came back to this spot a day later, they would hardly have moved.

Being in Antarctica means lots of training (for safety), and we have finally gotten all trained up. Theirry and I had to take Sea Ice training, a half day course on determining what cracks in the ice are safe to cross on vehicles. Then, our entire crew took Pressure Ridge training, another half day lesson on walking and working in areas of uplifted and contorted ice where cracks in the ice abound. Normally, participants in the Antarctica Program don't have to take this second course, but since the seals that we study are usually found in the cracks and pressure ridges, FSTP (known as "f-stop" or Field Safety Training Program) specially created this course for us.

Drilling to check the depth of the ice near a crack. Theirry on left.

Pressure Ridge training...everyone equipped with a probe or an ice axe. Pressure ridges galore in the background.

Poking around cracks in the pressure ridges. This ridge is probably about 10 feet above the sea....don't want to fall in one of those cracks!

More poking about...we do lots of ice poking around here. Travel through such places can be safely accomplished with diligent poking.

Our research is off to a good start...we've tagged a couple dozen seals (adults and pups)...but more about that later...!

An Antarctican Arrival

2010-10-05T20:06:00.002-06:00

"You have all the fuel and food you need, so we'll see you in the morning! Good luck and stay warm!" With that, our instructors saddled their snowmobiles and zipped back to their hut, where they would spend a warm night in a cozy bed, probably with stuffed animals to cuddle with and hot chocolate at arms reach all night. And so they left us. Abandoned on an ice shelf on the coldest continent in the world, wind lashing at our faces, icicles slowly massing on our beards, temperatures down to -15 degrees F, and all wondering how best to mitigate the miserableness of the forthcoming night. This was Happy Camper school. Designed to make us...happy...campers?

It's at these times that I wonder how I end up in these situations. The opportunity to come to Antarctica was presented to me so casually that it was easy to reply in-kind, with a casual "well...yes, I do want to go to Antarctica. Thank you for offering." I had no idea what saying yes quite meant, and probably no newbie to the "ice" (as we refer to Antarctica) ever does. And suddenly, I found myself in Christchurch, New Zealand (on September 28). Aside: Oh wonderful, warm, pleasant Christchurch where the birds sing from morning till night! Our crew of five (Glenn, Jessica, Shawn, Theirry, and myself) spent the few days we had in Christchurch eating at Thai restaurants (Glenn's favorite) and enjoying the mild climate. I spent an afternoon and a morning walking about Hagley Park to find all the exotic birds I had enjoyed so much on my previous study abroad in Christchurch. The New Zealand pigeon, the New Zealand scaup, the silvereye, the grey warbler. But our main reason for being in Christchurch was to obtain our ECW gear from the CDC at the USAP ("Extreme Cold Weather gear from the Clothing Distribution Center at the United States Antarctica Program"; the USAP uses acronyms like hot cocoa powder on a cold day) and board the C17 south-bound for Antarctica (since New Zealand is in a prime location for deployment to certain areas of Antarctica).

It was like Christmas: collecting our ECW gear at the CDC -- each USAP participant was provided with two duffel bags filled with multiple layers of everything to keep us warm for the duration of our visit in Antarctica. I have never before witnessed such large scale logistic efficiency and effectiveness than that performed by the USAP.

Trying on "Big Red"-- the famous USAP parka. I even get my own name tag to go with it! We tried on every piece of clothing to make sure it all fit properly. I promptly returned and exchanged multiple items, and kept doing so...so much so that the exchanger dude made me promise not to come back again (he was joking of course).

Early morning line-up to get through security prior to boarding the plane.

Getting transported to the C17 -- everyone was pretty stoked! (The dude in the red, blue, and white striped hat about mid-bus is Theirry or "Tearie" or maybe more like "Cheary" -- I say it wrong no matter what, but he doesn't mind -- from France, taking over the project next year for his graduate work.)

Boarding the C17, kindly operated by the US Air Force.

Is this really happening?? Heck yeah! We were required to wear our ECW gear onto the plane so we would be totally ready when we stepped out onto the ice. Nice white boots eh? They call them bunny boots. And you can actually blow them up with air for increased insulation.

The Weddell seal crew (minus Theirry who took the photo). L to R- Glenn (crew leader and PhD student at Montana State), me, Jessica (returnee from last year), Shawn (also a returnee)

The first sign of ice at about 3.5 hours (of 5 hours) from Christchurch.

Pax = Passenger -- our pre-Antarctic lunch

In the cockpit! You can tell these guys love their job. They were terribly friendly and let us check out everything.

The unrelenting ice begins....

Inside the belly of the bird, taken from the cockpit through a bubble window-- notice no windows, which makes for an interesting landing experience. You can't see it, but all the excess space above everyone's heads is filled with excitement.

Eventually, after about five hours, the pilot told everyone to put their seat belts on for the descent; with no windows, we could only guess how close we were to landing, but finally, the tilt of the plane and the thrust of the engines felt just right, and, sure enough, we were touching down. It may have been the smoothest landing I've ever had; especially considering that I thought we would go sliding off the continent since we were landing on ice with wheels. And then we walked out of the plane, down the steps, and took our first steps onto the ice. They had been telling us to relish that moment, those first steps, the bitter cold, the vast white, the looming mountains; but I was not prepared for just how momentous those steps felt. Crunch...squeak-crunch...crunch...the ice underfoot, extending for miles in all directions, completely flat, running for as far as the eye can see in some places and, in other places, interrupted by irruptions of white, stately mountains and volcanoes. And the sky...maybe more sky than I have ever seen...a crisp blue dome above fading and merging into the white of the ice below. The nip of the cold air was slightly shocking...I knew it would be cold but my northern-hemisphered-summarized body was not quite acquainted with this inundation of freezingness. It's a lot like getting locked in a walk-in freezer with just your t-shirt and shorts on....for two and a half months in my case.

Antarctica....I am in Antarctica...Antarctica, I say to myself over and over. In the background, the C17's rumble is constant; they will keep the engines running while those departing (or "redeploying") load up so the engines don't freeze.

Smilin' Theirry--also his first time on the ice

Mt. Discovery, an inactive volcano to the SW

Boarding an Antarctican transportation-- Ivan the Terra Bus

From the ice-runway, we boarded Antarctic-proof buses and headed to McMurdo, one of the research stations operated by the United States Antarctic Program. It's outward appearance is similar to that of some mining town, buildings of all different colors placed here and there, at odd angles to each other, power lines and pipelines running aboveground all over town. But beneath the somewhat unappealing outward appearance is an amazing working operation of extreme efficiency. The purpose of McMurdo is for science. Everything about the town is designed and operated for that sole purpose. This means that if a crew of scientists, like ourselves, comes to McMurdo, we will have warm beds, we will be fed three meals a day, and we will have access to all normal conveniences (ie high-speed internet, post office, store, coffee shop, barber shop [yes mom, I can get a hair cut here], chapel with sunday services, workout gyms, hospital, and even a second-hand store where everything is free!). We are also provided with our own lab room and have access to all and any lab equipment we may need. And as scientists working in the field, we are provided with all training (snow craft [ie Happy Camper], sea ice, snowmobile, light vehicle, and helicopter safety training) and all the gear we need for our field camp, including four huts (kitchen, equipment, men's bunk, and women's bunk huts), full kitchen supplies, two and a half month's worth of food, all gear necessary to live and work comfortably and WARM on the ice, snowmobiles, and wireless internet(!). Without a doubt, McMurdo is the most organized and most efficiently operated town I have ever seen...and it's all for science. Our huts are in the staging area right now (on the sea ice down below McMurdo) and will be moved for us to our field location, about thirteen miles away.

Theirry and my dorm room--with my bed covered with all my winter gear.

Outside the dorm window-- there is 24 hour light during the summer, which is now (note all the snow).

The dorm rooms--mine is the one directly below the big white ball on the mountain in the background

The McMurdo station, situated on Ross Island (which you can't tell is an island right now (or maybe ever) because the ocean is frozen solid all around it.

Observation Hill behind the Science Center

Building 155, the center of McMurdo: food, store, post office, barber, craft room, Wells Fargo ATM....

The McMurdo coffee shop

A place for praise and worship

The Weddell seal lab

The buildings dead center of the photo are our huts, waiting to be filled with gear and transported to our field location.

And then, bam! First full day in Antarctica and I'm getting hauled off to Happy Camper training. Despite the bitter cold (as far as the cold goes down here, it wasn't that cold, so says those veterans of Happy Camper that had to withstand even colder temperatures during their training), we successfully built camp, built a wind barrier out of snow blocks, boiled water for hot cocoa and dehydrated dinners, and stayed as warm as it is possible on the ice. We put up two Scott tents (the teepees in the photos), a bunch of mountain tents, and half the class built their own survival trenches to sleep in. Most of us trenchers did so because we knew it would keep us warm digging until bedtime, and the trenches would also (supposedly) keep us just as warm if not warmer than the tents. I felt like I was digging my own grave, but I made it as comfy of a grave as I could.

The Happy Camper camp

Digging trenches

Scott tent with snow wall. Kitchen setup in the background.

The kitchen--we boiled water continuously for all of the evening and all of the morning.

Dinner

Wishing my beard was massive

Theirry's trench--notice the snow blocks for the roof being added.

My trench, with sliding snow blocks for a door. I stuffed my backpack in the remaining hole, leaving me completely protected from the world outside. It was terribly claustrophobic and I was sure I was going to die of carbon dioxide poisoning, but I stuck it out, only having to forcefully shiver a few times throughout the night to stay warm. The worst part: getting from your warm layers into your freezing sleeping bag in such a tiny space, and then waiting, horrified, as you feel your bladder slowly filling, knowing that you will have to repeat the whole process again! The next worst part: feeling your bladder fill up even more rapidly after you have crawled back in the sleeping bag and forcing yourself to stay in bed until morning so you don't have to go through the whole process again.

Upon successful completion and survival of Happy Camper, we returned to McMurdo to continue our week of training. The sunny day of our arrival was the last one I have seen, and even as I write this, it is Condition 2 outside:

"Severe Weather Condition II
Defined by one or more of the following conditions: wind speeds of 48 to 55 knots sustained for one minute; wind chills of -75 to -100° F sustained for one minute; or visibility of less than 1/4 mile sustained for one minute."

Sea ice training has been cancelled for the second time this week, and Theirry and I are not allowed into the field without it. And so, our crew remains indoors, waiting for the weather to clear so we can finish loading up our huts. Soon, we will be in the field, finding our seals, but everything is weather dependent in Antarctica.

Don't forget to check out Weddell Seal Science (there is a new post from Mary, part of our crew coming friday, weather dependent).

And, if you are interested in McMurdo, click here. To get current conditions, click on "Information Pages" at the top of the page, then click "Weather, Channel 3". You can cycle through different pages by clicking Next or Previous.

Weather also here.

Till next time, on the ice and with the seals,

Jesse

A Southward Migration

2010-09-20T07:31:00.001-06:00

Millions of birds are, at this very moment, engaged in the world's most astounding mass movement. Powered only by their own brawn, love-handles (or fat, which in the bird world is of life-and-death caliber of importance), and self-will, these birds are driving southward, come what may. Imagine the entire northern hemisphere alive with fluttering wings, slowly drifting southward across mountain tops, across wide valleys and deserts, across lakes and vast stretches of ocean. More than anyone can count, and more than anyone can imagine. Many will stop in Mexico, central Africa, India, but many will continue further, to central and south America, to southern Africa, to Australia and New Zealand. There is one bird, however, that outdoes all others...the Arctic tern. Traveling about 49,700 miles every year, the Arctic tern (which only weighs 100 grams or about 1/4 lb) wings from the Arctic all the way to Antarctica, truly bipolar organisms. This is a phenomenal feat.

It is this bird that I will think of as I undergo my own south-bound migration. There are a few similarities: they are going to Antarctica for the summer (our winter), I'm going to Antarctica for the summer...they weigh next to nothing, I weigh next to nothing...but that's about where the similarities end. I'm going almost 10,000 miles and will hardly be moving a muscle to do so (except running to my next flight...good thing they make those flat moving walkways, otherwise I would have to use my muscles even more). Although I should put on fat (to stay warm!), I don't have to because I don't have to use my own energy reserves to power my body down there (good thing they make those massive, fuel-powered, flying sardine cans for us to ride inside of). Thus said, my feat is not nearly as phenomenal.

Funded by the National Science Foundation, our small crew (7 or 8?) will be headed to the US station McMurdo, a town of about 1,100 people in the summer (see map below). We will be collecting data pertinent to the study of population dynamics of Weddell seals operated by my professor and friend from Montana State University, Robert Garrott, whom I also worked for in Yellowstone last winter.

I am still in disbelief that I am headed to Antarctica; it is something that I never even contemplated dreaming about because, sheesh, it is just so unrealistic of a thing...no one gets to go to Antarctica!

But, here I am, half-packed, trying to imagine all I need to survive down there. I keep telling myself that if I can survive a winter in Yellowstone, I can survive a summer in Antarctica too (supposedly, Yellowstone gets just as cold). I leave from Idaho Falls on Sept 26th, and will arrive in Christchurch, NZ on Sept 28. A few days later, we will clamber into a C-130 and try to beat the Arctic tern to Antarctica.

The next blog post will come directly from Antarctica right to your face for your viewing and reading pleasure.

Beat that Mr. Arctic tern.

Map of Antarctica borrowed from the United States Antarctica Program Participant Guide 2008-2010 edition

A Bander's Lament

2010-09-14T18:23:00.002-06:00

Juvenile Merlin

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All who missed my Yellowstone elk and wolves presentation to the Idaho Master Naturalists will be given another chance (it may be your last!). I will be presenting for the Snake River Audubon Society at the Idaho Falls Public Library this Thursday (Sept. 16) at 7:30pm in the basement conference rooms. Here's what its all about, as I stated in the Audubon newsletter:

"Last winter, I had the opportunity to spend five months in Yellowstone National Park researching predator-prey dynamics between two of the Park's most famous and controversial large mammals--the wolves and the elk. While tracking the wolves and elk with radio telemetry and performing necropsies on kills, I attempted to photograph all that I observed during the winter (often with frozen fingers). This presentation will feature some of my most interesting observations (which goes beyond just the elk and wolves), as well as provide a summary of the past 20 years of research from this project."

*******************************************

It was terribly sad to depart from Lucky Peak...my final day was last Friday. I'm pretty sure I just about cried as I released the very last bird of the day, a female Western tanager. The folks I worked with were simply awesome, and I learned a massive amount regarding birds, migration, molting, research techniques, handling skills, etc. Lucky Peak is a very unique place, and I continue to urge everyone to make a trip up there (enduring the steep and bumpy 4-wheel drive road) during the fall migration period to see and hold birds up close. Don't live near Lucky Peak? Search for other bird observatories near where you live; there are many across the country.

The day before I left, a very good article in the Idaho Statesman about the Idaho Bird Observatory's banding operation on Lucky Peak was printed....check it out! I was lucky (no pun intended) to have the reporter randomly choose me to follow during a net run...! A neat thing to remember my season there anyway.

Some final photos:

We caught a flammulated owl!! The only one during my time there. The owl crew ran around and woke everyone up at midnight to come see their first of the year (besides a common poorwill and flying squirrel)

A very small bird, as you can see. Actually, the flammulated owl is the second smallest in North America (second to the elf owl)

And some crew shots:

Jack and Heidi enjoying a red-breasted nuthatch

Heidi blowing feathers aside to assess belly fat on a yellow-breasted chat

Me blowing to assess fat on an adult white-crowned sparrow. Photo by Paul Plante.

Jay with his first Swainson's hawk

Rob with the rare catch of a Swainson's hawk

Sean removing a sharp-shinned hawk from a can. (Can? Used for weighing purposes)

Sean with the sharp-shinned hawk

Ian with red-tailed hawk

Garrott with red-tailed hawk

Ian with red-tail

Sara with red-tail

Garrott with Swainson's

Sara with Swainson's

Ian with merlin

Merlin

Songbirds are cool, but...

2010-09-05T10:37:00.001-06:00

The view from the hawk blind slit...facing North to see the oncoming Southward-bound raptors

"Sharpie coming in...don't move...." Hidden from within the hawk blind cube, Jay yanks a green string, his hawk-like eyes peering out the small slit in the blind, intensely focused on the sharp-shinned hawk that had appeared from nowhere. With the pull of the string, a white pigeon (with the unfortunate job title of "lure bird") is flung into the air. The fluttering of its wings immediately catch the eye of the hawk.

The lure bird...a white pigeon tied to a string, allowing the hawk trapper to "toss" it into the air to attract hawks.

But a sharpie (as birders call them) will only rarely go after a bird as large as the pigeon; and Jay, knowing this (having pulled the pigeon just to initially get the sharpie's attention), pulls a smaller string, sending a small English sparrow into the air flapping. The focus of the sharpie instantly shifts; in less than a second it descended on the sparrow.

The fear of the sparrow must be terrific at this moment, but lucky for him, we are not out for entertainment. Surrounding the little sparrow is an array of mist-nets (similar to the ones used for the songbird banding operation). The incoming sharpie plowed into the mist-net, which collapsed instantly (as intended) over him. Nearly simultaneously, another sharp-shin jetted in from a different direction, and, with nothing learned by observing the fate of its fellow species, crashed into another net. Two birds with one stone.

The door of the banding shack exploded open as Jay and Rob bolted towards the entangled birds; waiting too long can result in a bird escaping (and thus loss of data, which biologists passionately HATE).

Jay and Rob removing two sharp-shinned hawks from the collapsible mist-nets.

Rob with diligent hands untangling the tangled.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wholly enthralled by the hawk trapping operation: the hawks flying high overhead, Jay methodically tossing the lure birds, the shift of focus as the hawks see the lure bird flapping (which can be from a phenomenally long distance away), the silent, rapid approach of the hawk, the clink of the collapsing mist-net, the burst out of the blind shack of seemingly crazed biologists to untangle the birds for measurement and banding.

English sparrow lure bird, tied to a string (hard to see)

Providing shelter and water for the lure bird...see, we're not completely heartless biologists

A banded juvenile sharp-shin

Sharp-shin wondering what in the world is going on

Processing the Sharp-shin (Rob putting the band on)

Other photos of the day:

The lure bird is actually surrounded by two different sets of traps: the collapsible mist-nets and a clam-shell net trap (if the raptor actually lands on the lure bird; injuries and deaths of the lure bird are surprisingly rare)

Jay removing a sharp-shinned hawk

Sharp-shinned hawk, juvenile male

Jay in his element.

American kestrel

But by far, the best part is holding the raptors. For never having held a raptor before, this is how it went: "oh, ok, cool...I'll just hold on to this bird and get my photo taken with it...that's pretty sweet" to [grabbing the bird], "HOLY COW THIS IS AMAZING!"

Me with juvenile, male Sharp-shinned hawk

With juvenile Red-tailed hawk

With juvenile Swainson's hawk (Jay's FIRST ever!)

Jay has been hawk trapping for years, and is always on the prowl for catching a new bird. Two years ago, he caught a gyrfalcon, an extremely rare and privileged occurrence. This year, he caught his first Swainson's hawk, a common species that does not get caught often (presumably because it is thought that Swainson's don't eat at all during their migration down to South America; think about that for a second).

A happy Jay with his first Swainson's hawk.

"Hey Mom!" (Red-tailed hawk, juvenile)

Red-tail

Swainson's hawk during measurement and banding process

Swainson's

Release of the Swainson's

Parting shot of the hawk blind overlooking the system of traps.

And here's a Lincoln's sparrow captured in the songbird mist-nets...cool huh?

Lincoln's Sparrow--actually quite a rare catch

ANSWER'S to the last capture quiz:

1 Townsend’s warbler

2 Red-breasted nuthatch

3 Spotted towhee (juvenile)

4 Black-capped chickadee

5 Semipalmated sandpiper

WINNER: Glenn DeVoe! Two in a row for Mr. DeVoe...good job pa!

Flocking to the Peak

2010-08-29T18:25:00.002-06:00

As my season winds down (my final descent from the mountain will occur on September 10), others' just begins. A barrage of new faces have ascended the peak, all accompanied with the fresh excitement that all field biologists feel when beginning a new job working with wild critters. The hawk watch crew arrived first, psyched to begin counting all the migrating raptors that use the ridgelines to travel southward. Two days ago, less than ten raptors were counted. The following day, the counts jumped into the 40's. Let the migration begin!

Next, the owl crew showed up, struggling to adjust their sleeping schedule to survive the long nights. "The first night [Sept 28] of Owl trapping resulted in one sleepy Common Poorwill (not so common to see in the owl nets!) and one angry Flying Squirrel! no owls yet" from IBO's facebook update.

Alongside the raptor counting and owl banding, hawk trapping has commenced. A skilled trapper and bander hidden in a blind; puppeted lure birds to attract the in-flight, migrating predators; a series of different traps set to snare them...providing for a very intriguing operation and allowing for some very up-close encounters with raptors. I hope to dedicate a post to it before I leave, but don't hang your hat on it.

A few photos:

Hawkwatch International migration counters (Sarah and Ian) on the tippy-top of the peak, scanning for 'dem birds.

Our biggest catch yet...two red-shafted Northern flicker siblings

Common poorwill caught (with my bare hands!) on the dirt road that winds up to the peak

Three Birds with One Stone

2010-08-17T19:46:00.003-06:00

Finally...enough time (just enough) to get out another post! I rarely come down from the mountain to get internet (and a shower...!), so I have three topics to cover, as follows:

1) Suby Tales Victory!

Several posts prior, I posted my submission to Outside Bozeman magazine's Suby Tales contest. After much prolonged anticipation, I discovered that I had won! (Coincidentally, the first person that told me I had won was the Steph in my story. A coworker showed her a copy of Outside Bozeman, asking "hey, is this you in this story?").

I sent my buddy Trax to represent me at the Suby Tales Party held at the Montana Import Group in Bozeman (because I live on a mountain in the sky) and to collect my winnings. During the party, Trax gave me a call and everyone there congratulated me (as well as laughed at me), which was very cool (except for the laughing). I later found out that they had a bet going on whether I was male or female (since they only knew my name was Jesse...the male spelling by the way!) which is the reason for the laughter.

What did I win? They were very generous: a free detail (inside and out) for my car and $500 cash. But wait! They liked it so much that Montana Import Group decided I deserved more ("more?!!" I asked myself). $250 extra. Wow...who would have thought that losing your car to a fire could feel so good!

2) The Answers

The bird ID challenge was undertaken by a whopping 4 participants! It was quite difficult, but two people came out victorious with a tie: Kathy B and Glenn DeVoe (my pa)! Good work!

The correct answers:

1-Yellow-breasted Chat

2-Lazuli Bunting

3-Western Tanager

4-Bullock's Oriole

5-Nashville Warbler

6-Brewer's Sparrow

7-Spotted Towhee

8-Hairy Woodpecker

9-Golden-crowned Kinglet

3) Recent Happenings

The past two weeks have been quite slow...down to our lowest of 10 birds in one day, but most regularly 30-40 per day. But, birds are starting to move now! Yesterday we had 72, and today 102 boids! With two rarities included: a Tennessee Warbler (only 7 previous records at Lucky Peak) and a pacific variation of Orange-crowned Warbler (which typically hang out on the pacific coast area). Hopefully I will get some pictures of them posted (none taken by me so I don't have any for this post).

The IBO Research Station complete with a sketchy, dilapidated trailer for a kitchen

The banding shack...where the processing of birds takes place. Placed in the newly constructed "amphitheater." From left to right: Gary (a very skilled bird extractor from the nets and a very appreciated volunteer), Jesus (from Spain, very skilled birder trying to learn all he can about North American birds), and Heidi (the most knowledgeable about processing the birds besides the boss...her presence is positively correlated with processing efficiency).

The amphitheater for groups to view the banding process. With Gary, Heidi, and Jesus.

Round 2! Any guesses?!

#1 (same as above)

#5 (seen on shorebirding trip outside of Boise. Very difficult!)

Idaho Bird Observatory

2010-08-02T20:58:00.001-06:00

For those of you that are more interested in the Idaho Bird Observatory, you can check out their website and/or join their Facebook group (search for "Idaho Bird Observatory"), where you can get daily updates of the number of birds we are banding, as well as any special catches!

Name That Bird!!

2010-07-30T19:49:00.001-06:00

Let's see how good you folks are at IDing your birds. I'm keeping score! There are a couple of difficult ones here, so maybe just a smidgen of cheating allowed...but test yourself first!

Prairie to the Peaks

2010-07-24T16:59:00.003-06:00

Boise, ID from atop Lucky Peak

An abrupt transition. After a seemingly quick field season searching for raptor nests in the lowlands, I headed straight to the highlands above Boise to start my next field job. I remain working for the Idaho Bird Observatory (IBO), but I am now a bird bander, replacing my former title of nest searcher. IBO has managed a banding operation at the top of Lucky Peak (just outside of Boise, above Lucky Peak Reservoir) for about 17 years, capturing and banding all the fall migrating birds, everything from small, perching birds (technically termed Passerines or "LBJ's"-Little Brown Jobbies- for all nonbirders) to owls to large raptors. I have been hired for the capture and banding of the small dudes.

Moon setting over Boise

So how do we capture the birds? Invisibly...at least to the birds. We set up fine, mesh nets (we have ten total scattered around the top of Lucky Peak) which the birds cannot see. When they fly into the nets (mist-nets, as we call them), they usually get all tangled up and can't escape (insert evil laugh here). Then, dudes (like myself) and dudettes come bopping along every half hour and untangle them, trying not to lose them as they flap and wiggle around (when they do escape, we call it "flubbing" a bird. The boss is not happy when we flub birds. Minimizing flubbing is a priority. I have only flubbed one bird so far...and, luckily, I at least got the band on it before it got away).

The mist-nets...note the near invisibility (there is mist-net stretched across the entire upper-right corner of the photo)

The crew untangling a capture of eleven birds.

Unwittingly stuck. (Nashville Warbler)

Sometimes, the untangle process takes seconds. Sometimes, minutes. Sometimes (mostly coming from me), yelling for "HELP!" from the more advanced bird untanglers.

Advanced untangler Heidi...often my untangling savior.

I always wonder what is going on in their little heads at these moments.

Once untangled, they are transfered into small bags so as to minimize injury and transported to the banding station, where they are processed (ie banded, ID'd, sexed, aged, measured, checked for muscle and fat, and weighed).

Using banding pliers (specifically made for banding birds) to place a small metal band on the right leg. The band has a unique set of numbers that will identify that bird if ever caught again. (Yellow-breasted Chat)

Weighing sequence:

(Nashville Warbler)

Weighing a larger bird

Measuring wing chord length (Yellow-breasted Chat)

Measuring tail length (Yellow-breasted Chat)

The blowing technique...used to push aside the feathers to see the amount of muscle and fat on the bird. (Yellow-breasted Chat)

The band. (Brown-headed cowbird)

Getting to handle these birds is a great privilege. It's one thing to see birds flying around, which is very cool in itself, but getting to hold them in your hand, feel their quivering wings, reptilian feet, and soft feathers, hear them squeak and squawk as they try to escape, and look into their tiny but infinitely deep eyes is quite another thing. There is much to be learned from these little birds. If you are ever in Boise, you would never regret a visit to the top of Lucky Peak to witness the banding operations. We'll even let you handle the birds!! Let me know if you want to come up...and I hope you do!

For all birders...expect bird ID quizzes in the future!

A Desert for a Moose to Wander

2010-07-07T15:42:00.001-06:00

Heidi and I were pleasantly surprised to find a young bull moose in the most unlikely of places. Wandering across the dry grass and sagebrush country of the Bennett Hills, the little dude was very far from any good moose habitat. Most of the creeks in the canyons have dried up, and it is a long walk in any direction to any good eatins. As weird as the sighting was, it exemplifies the importance of the conservation of corridors for wildlife. As is, the Bennett Hills provide wonderful habitat for a great variety of desert (sage grouse, burrowing owls, pronghorn antelope, raptors, etc, etc) and non-desert species (as represented by the black bears and the Pacific tree frog mentioned and photographed in previous posts). But the Bennett Hills are also a travel corridor, a passageway for dispersing individuals to get from one population to another. The ability of wildlife populations to do so is critical in maintaining genetic diversity as well as reducing the effects of inbreeding in populations. It also helps to establish or maintain populations that have been eliminated or reduced.

Humans are really good at destroying and fragmenting habitat. This is why I love Idaho. Even though there is aplenty of habitat degradation and elimination here in Idaho, there is also a gihugic (gigantic+huge) amount of habitat that is left relatively untainted, and will probably remain so for a long time. Why? Because Idaho has an amazing amount of country that is too difficult to access, explore, and exploit. The mountains are too steep. The deserts are too dry. The roads are too rough and too far to travel. "I can't grow my potatoes here with all this derned lava rock everywhere!" And the government owns most of it.

Destruction is much, much easier than creation. I admire all who take on the challenge of creating habitat instead of destroying it. And conserving habitat these days is the same as creating it. I am glad the Bennett Hills belong in the hands of the BLM. I am glad there are still wanderers pilgrimaging across the desert.

Recent Wanderings in the Desert

2010-06-25T21:24:00.001-06:00

Little City of Rocks, Bennett Hills, ID

Little City of Rocks

Never mess with a baby rattlesnake! No control of venom injection = no bueno...

Prairie Falcon chick. The parents were not happy about my presence, dive-bombing me as I tried to scramble down and away from the nest.

Fairly typical Prairie Falcon nesting site

Adult screaming and dive-bombing me.

Black Butte Crater...I'm not quite sure, but could be even cooler than Craters of the Moon NP

Surveying the crater for raptor nests

Watering hole for wildlife?

Bear cub tracks

Pacific Tree Frog. Nowhere near the pacific. Nowhere near trees. But it is a frog.

Wilson's Phalarope

Centennial Marsh in the Camas Prairie, ID

*Idahooooh, oh oh oh Idahooooh

2010-06-14T14:27:00.005-06:00

I couldn't believe the words that came out of my mouth. I immediately had to rescind them. "This is the best job ever!" said me to myself (and yes, I was talking to myself as I am apt to do since I've been working these consecutive field jobs). Seriously? Hadn't I just spent five and a half months creeping around Yellowstone tracking wolves and elk, digging around in carcasses, and watching bears romp after bison? Assertion rescinded...but...still half true!

I live and work in a beautiful place. The Soldier Mountains (complete with a ski resort, hiking and mountain biking trails, and several hot springs) are right out my back door, literally. The picture above is the road headed North to the house I am currently dwelling in (the BLM biologist's house). In the more zoomed in picture below, the two buildings that you can see right-center, is that house.

And my room above the garage:

Looking Southward

Looking Northward

This job has made me love Idaho all the more than I already do. Idaho is the bomdiggidy. In the little explored, dry, sagebrushy, treeless Bennett Hills, where golden eagles make the canyon cliffs their throne and palace, I sat motionless as a brown mother black bear came tramping down the canyon with her two very small cubs, both trying very hard to keep up with mama (very similar to my brother and I when my mom is on one of her daily walking marches). The trio passed not 30 yards from my perch, and never saw me, not even when mama sniffed my ungodly scent (at least I'm sure that's what they think I smell like) and stood up on her hind legs with nose scanning the airwaves. My scent was so abhorrent that they high-tailed it up the canyon slopes, with the cubs putting their climbing and leaping skills into practice on the rock walls and ledges. And of course, no camera = no pictures ;(

Camas Creek above Magic Reservoir

In the Camas Creek gorge, I watched from the top of the cliffs as river otters made their way up and down the stream, sliding through the riffles and pools, at perfect ease in their aquatic world. It is not often that I ever see otters, and seeing them in these canyon stream-ways surrounded by a dry sagebrush environment is even more surprising to me, but maybe because I have only seen them in places like Yellowstone or Grand Teton.

Golden eagle chick in typical eagle nest

The most amusing part of my job is watching the golden eagle nests. The nests are often very obvious, with large stick nests placed on rock ledges, whitewash (aka bird crap) surrounding them, and little dudes (aka eaglets) poking around in them. But, oh the boredom those eaglets must feel! Trying their best to amuse themselves during their nine-week incarceration. Often, a hundred foot cliff wall on one side of the nest and a hundred foot drop on the other: no where to go and nothing to do. All the chained-to-the-nest eaglets can do is flap their weak wings occasionally, nibble at a stick or two, and shift sleeping positions. For nine weeks! Can you imagine? It's like being locked in a jail cell for 63 days...the only thing to look forward to is the clang of the lock and the creak of the door when someone comes to visit or brings in a bowl of mush to eat. And indeed, the eaglets do get excited when their parents drop in for a visit...but they are usually only excited for the meal they bring, since I have never seen the chicks make any sort of verbal or physical gesture of "THANKS MOM!" Sure, they make a lot of noise, but their eyes remain locked on the food. The second the adult makes landing, the food is snatched by the chick and immediately inhaled, very similarly to how I inhale food placed in front of me by my mother.

The canyons remain beautifully green and alive with flowers and birds. Yellow-breasted chats, western tanagers, bullock's orioles, and yellow warblers supply the chorus from the stream habitats, while the vesper, lark, and brewer's sparrows, meadowlarks, and sage thrashers mount their choral offensive from the sagebrush. All the while, the raptors are soaring on the high winds, sometimes for fun, sometimes in search of food to feed the very bored and probably very hungry chicks in the nest.

Great horned owl fledges, snapping their beaks at me and rocking back and forth (for what reason, I don't know)

The past week was spent searching for the elusive and secretive flammulated owl, a species of "special concern" but only because very little is known about it. And being owls we were after, we shifted from day work to night work, and from the sagebrush desert to the Douglas fir mountain forests. After much tripping, slipping, and falling up, down, and sideways on the steep, loose mountainsides over and around rocks, logs, creeks, and trees through rain, snow, and freezing wind trying to find our survey points and collect vegetation data during the day, we would wait for night to fall, and repeat the whole process as we returned to the survey points to hoot for the owls using a portable sound box.

On the weekends, I have been driving a lot: visiting my girlfriend in Billings, MT, meeting my parents at Craters of the Moon National Park, going to a wedding in Pocatello, ID, etc....so the following are a collection of photos from these weekends:

Black bear in the Beartooth Pass (Red Lodge) area.

Abby sees the bear!

Katie and Abby! Beartooth Pass

The mama at Craters of the Moon, walking

The mama at home, walking

The DeVoe "ranch"

The Snake River at high water in Idaho Falls

A bit of over-topping the banks

Meeting the Pinson's for breakfast on the second beautiful day of the year so far.

***Blog title from Yonder Mountain String Band's "Idaho." Best song ever. Check it out here!

Where I Be

2010-05-21T22:14:00.004-06:00

The BLM Shoshone District, ID

Fairfield, ID-- a fair field indeed...

Snake River Canyon

The large amount of cliffy, lava rock canyons that are scattered throughout the Snake River Valley (such as these) provide excellent nesting opportunities for Prairie Falcons, Golden Eagles, Red-tailed Hawks, American Kestrels, and Ravens. And indeed, Idaho has the largest concentration of nesting raptors in North America! I always wondered why they put the raptor on our state quarter instead of a big, fat potato...

Snake River Canyon

Flowering Antelope Bitterbrush

There are four or five of these little dudes, but only one came out for me...

Back to the Birds

2010-05-14T22:50:00.000-06:00

Dry Canyon

The desert is as green as Yellowstone was white. All the plants, from the cheatgrass to the low larkspur to the antelope bitterbrush to the willows in the drainage bottoms, are putting their photosynthesis skills to use. Many are displaying their brightly colored billboards, declaring to all passing insects that this is the best place to dine.

GREEN!

Low Larkspur

A small scale predation event (pretend the ants are wolves and the beetle is an elk)

It feels great to be back in the sagebrush desert of Idaho; I have missed it greatly. My position with the Idaho Bird Observatory has brought me to the BLM Shoshone District, where I spend my days scrutinizing canyons, power lines, and buttes for the nests of raptors, ie golden eagles, prairie falcons, ferruginous hawks, etc. So far, I have only found one nest...that of a red-tailed hawk, but Heidi, my coworker who has been here for 1.5 months already, has found several, including golden eagle and prairie falcon nests. It is an exciting time out in the real world (yes, the real world); all the birds are going nuts building nests, laying eggs, flirting with their boyfriends, incubating, and some are already feeding youngsters. I am stoked to be observing it all happen.

Short-eared Owl

Our BLM diesel truck...very fun to drive.

My living conditions are nearly as plush as in Yellowstone. We are staying in a six bedroom, three bathroom, three fridge bunkhouse with everything provided (even a washer and dryer). I think I'm becoming a marshmallow biologist.

The super comfy, brand new couches with big screen TV

The kitchen, with Heidi demonstrating one of many uses of a kitchen table.

It is also the case that I am living in an extremely beautiful area, that being Fairfield, ID. With the Soldier Mountains to the north, the Bennett Hills to the south, and surround by the Camas Prairie...it is a fantastic area.

More pictures to come....

A Subaru Tale

2010-05-02T21:09:00.003-06:00

Every year, Outside Bozeman Magazine (one of the best local magazines I have ever read) runs a "Suby Tales" contest (this because Subaru is by far the most popular car in Bozeman; you are guaranteed, at the very least, three other Subaru's at every light that you stop at). Two summers ago, during a field job searching for Mexican spotted owls in Zion National Park, something terrible happened to my Subaru. This is the story I wrote for this years contest. (The reply from the editor after I sent it: "I have only two words: Holy sh**.")

A flash of light and an explosion repulsed the quiet of the desert. Billowing flames and black smoke rippled against the towering canyon walls and lit up the dark, midnight sky. Fully unaware of the distant blast and flare, my coworker, Steph, and I were miles away in a slot canyon, deep in sleep. I wish I could say that I felt some odd feeling looming over me that night, some ominous foreboding or horrifying dream, but it was not so. In fact, I slept very soundly.

The work week in Zion National Park was much like all the others. We parked my 1998 Suby under the only available shade at the Lee Pass Trailhead and headed down the dry, dusty trail winding through the pinyon-juniper woodland. Forging our way off-trail through flesh snagging scrub thickets and leg-devouring flash-flooded mud, our mission was to locate Mexican spotted owls in the labyrinth of slot canyons in the park. After hours of trudging and only hearing our own hoots echo through the canyon, an owl finally responded. Our mission successful and our bodies completely exhausted, we flopped immediately into bed and passed out.

Several miles away, back at the trailhead, my Subaru peacefully and patiently waited for our return. There were no storm clouds that night, no lightning. The heat of the day had passed, and only the midnight stars lit the cool desert. But as the soft light of the morning arrived, a strange scene was revealed.

I awoke refreshed that morning, completely ignorant to two sobering facts: I would never see my gear-packed Subaru again and we were stranded in the desert of Utah. That very day, unbeknownst to us, my Suby would be hauled to a junk yard in some obscure Utah town. We pushed on through the scrub, rocks, and heat; business as usual in search for our next owl. The following day, during a sweaty hike in the searing heat, we entertained ourselves with thoughts of sleeping in a comfy hotel bed and inhaling glutinous amounts of greasy food after reaching the trailhead where I knew my Subaru would be waiting.

As we struggled up the final stone steps to the parking lot, I glanced over to see my blessed Subaru. That's funny, I thought to myself, my car doesn't look like it’s here...it must be behind another car. Walking closer, I cried out to Steph; "My car is not here...!" She didn’t believe me at first, but after looking up and scanning around, she entered the same state of bewilderment that had overcome me. My darting eyes located the tree I had parked under. No car. My heart sank. In place of my car, a black burned spot on the asphalt. A sign on the no-longer-green, charred tree: "Jesse DeVoe, Call Dispatch or the Kolob Visitor Center." At the other end of the lot, I spotted a Boy Scout troop leader who was oblivious to any abnormal circumstance at hand. With trembling voice, I said "it looks like my car burnt down...can I borrow a phone?”

When the previous morning’s veil of darkness had been lifted, a blackened, skeletal frame could be seen lying beneath a lone, half-charred tree. The pavement was scorched and covered with ash. Bits of metal and glass had been flung into the brush. Melted aluminum and glass had oozed onto the asphalt. The remains of my Subaru sat like the rotisserie-grilled carcass of a chicken, post-devourment by a famished family of four.

What evil creature lurked under the veil of darkness that night? What wicked spirit consumed not just my car, but also my laptop, back-up hard drive, two cameras, wallet, cell phone, many years of accumulated (and expensive) technical gear, and, most importantly, my mother’s homemade chocolate banana bread? Had the Park Service finally exceeded their tolerance for those darned owl researchers? Had anti-Spotted owl cronies at long last achieved their vengeance? My Subaru had exploded, and I shall never know why.

Spring Goodbyes

2010-04-27T20:21:00.004-06:00

Adios!

The season’s end has been lurking for several weeks, and is now pouncing on us, like a coyote on a pocket gopher’s final moments of life. It is honestly depressing to me to think that my time in Yellowstone is coming to a close. Our final week has been quite anti-climactic (hardly any wolves, no bears, a pitiful amount of bison, and a tiny elk population), but I still don’t want to leave. I’m worried that I might injure Megan and Greg when they pull me kicking and screaming from the park entrance, if they can even get me that far.

I feel that I have gained more from this job than I did from studying five years of ecology in college (but I wouldn’t have this job without the college part!). I have developed a much deeper understanding and appreciation of the complex interactions that take place not only in Yellowstone, but everywhere on earth at every moment. The human element in the world, although with a relatively huge impact on ecosystems, is only a small part of the colossal amount of interactions and processes that are occurring constantly. They are relentless forces, powering life, death, and everything in between.

Megan found the first newborn bison calf of the season at Norris Junction. Several days later, the Canyon pack had killed and nearly completely consumed it. I held its tiny hooves in my hand and pondered life, death, and everything in between.

I would like to sincerely thank all of you for reading my blog for this season. I am extremely surprised at the number of folks that are, at the very least, taking a peek now and then. It warms my heart to know that there are so many of you that are taking an interest not just in my adventures, but in the natural world. I hope that at least some of my posts were revealing, and if not that, then gaspingly, intriguingly gory.

I’m afraid I may lose some of my readers this summer as I start my much less-glamorous job of searching for and monitoring nests of prairie falcons, northern goshawks, ferruginous hawks, and flammulated owls in South Central Idaho (for the Idaho Bird Observatory). But I hope not, because, even in the sagebrush deserts and dry mountain forests, there are fascinating ecological stories unraveling. And I’m sure I will have a few adventures of my own.

Cheers to Yellowstone…

Jesse DeVoe

Wolf sightings per day rate: 1.06
Total wolf sightings: 176

Grizzly bear sightings: 11
Bobcat sightings: 6
Flying squirrel sightings: 1

Red Fox sightings: 8

Snowshoe Hare sightings: 5
Earthquakes felt: 4
Days in Yellowstone: 165

Rescheduling

2010-04-22T21:47:00.000-06:00

For any readers that were considering attending my presentation, it has been rescheduled for the 3rd of May (Monday), same place (Fish and Game, IF) same time (7pm). See you there!

2010-04-21T12:32:00.001-06:00

For the majority of the minuscule population of AE readers that are located in Idaho Falls, I will be giving a presentation of my winter in Yellowstone at the Idaho Fish and Game Department (click for map) for the Master Naturalist program on Monday, May 3 at 7:00 PM. Entitled "Chasing the Beep: A Winter Tracking Elk and Wolves in Central Yellowstone," I will be displaying photos that I have taken (many of which you have already seen on the blog), as well as going over the ecology that has been learned from the twenty year study.

I hope you will join me in gawking at some of the wonders of the Yellowstone ecosystem. If you have any questions, shoot me an email at jessedevoe@aspiringecologist.com.

See you there all fellow aspirists of any profession...

Very Beary

2010-04-21T12:16:00.003-06:00

The Preacher Bear

The very large, very burly local residents of the Yellowstone stage have been making regular, and quite awesome appearances during the past two weeks. The grizzlies that inhabit central Yellowstone tend to be darker than typical, ranging from dark brown to black in color, and we can often recognize individuals by certain coloration patterns. For example, the "Preacher Bear" has a small vertical white stripe on his front shoulder blade, and the "Armpit Bear," as I fondly call him, has white under his front legs. I was lucky enough, along with several students from Bob Garrott's Field Techniques course from Montana State University, to witness a very interesting interaction between these two bears. If anyone knows anything about bears that can help me decipher exactly what was going on, it would be greatly appreciated:

We first saw the Armpit bear wandering slowly across the Fountain Flats meadow, headed directly towards a carcass that was hidden in the trees. It (he/she?) was acting very nervous about approaching the area where the carcass was, and took a few sniffs in the air and looks around, before entering into the trees and disappearing. Moments later, the Preacher bear came barreling out of the trees, acting very scared. He would stop, turn around and look, then bolt again. As he stopped and turned around again, the Armpit bear came sauntering out of the trees, walking straight toward Preacher. Preacher allowed him to get closer, but still slowly walked in the opposite direction. Eventually, Armpit caught up to Preacher, who was still acting very nervous and subservient, head down, seeming to try to not make eye contact. The two bears came nose to nose, and we all waited for the tooth and claw fight that would surely follow...but it didn't. Instead, the bears, with jaws agape, gently mouthed each other. They then began to lay paws on each other, and the Armpit bear proceeded to climb half way up onto Preacher's back. Why the terror turning to play? Brothers? Flirting? But I keep going back to: why the running fright? No pictures unfortunately (too dark).

The Armpit Bear -- note patch of white under front legs.

The Preacher Bear -- note white vertical stripe on front shoulder blade.

The Preacher bear is locally famous, everyone in central Yellowstone knows about this massive, bison-killing, very human-tolerant bear. I have seen him several times, often with very interesting behavior:

We had first spotted the wolves lounging in the meadow, without a care in the world. Then out of the trees, the Preacher came walking out, casually sniffing around before slowly heading towards the sleeping wolves, where he proceeded to force them out of their dreamy state and push them around. The wolves didn't seem to mind too much...they would just stand up, stretch, yawn, and get out of the bears way.

"Yaaaawwn...ok, I'll guess I'll move"

Two days ago, I chanced upon the Preacher bear on the side of the road. Just another Preacher sighting, I thought to myself. But, as always in Yellowstone, there is absolutely no predictability in anything. Preacher began walking straight for a herd of bison across the river. The bison were very alert to his presence, bunching up and nervously shuffling positions, but they didn't run...until he crossed the river.

Preacher preparing his sermon...
(there is a river between him and the bison in this shot)

...and delivering it.

Unsuccessful, Preacher went for another try, but unfortunately, came away with nothing but wet fur. No mistakes were made by the fleet-footed bison...too bad for the Preacher.

A last, desperate self-baptism by the Preacher bear

The Three Wolf-ateers

2010-04-14T17:51:00.003-06:00

His performance was quite impressive. In the face of three hungry wolves repeatedly lunging and snapping, the yearling bull bison showed much bravery and perseverance, even with a shredded and bloody hide and a bad limp. He would go on to escape and survive the attacks, at least from these wolves.

The Canyon pack had returned, after being absent from the study area for 37 days. Sweeping along their usual route from Norris to Madison Junction in one or two days, the wolves were on a search and destroy mission. Luke and I had followed their tracks down the Madison River for several miles, until we came upon the three member pack. The grey, the black, and the white. Aaah how great! I think to myself. I love the Canyon pack, probably my favorite. They had double-backed on their tracks and were headed back toward Madison Junction, but Luke and I had work to do (ie trying to find more wolves), so we left Canyon pack knowing that we would probably miss something exciting. After finishing our duty up the Gibbon, headed back to Madison Junction, I hear Gary, the Madison ranger, hail me on the radio. “Three mike forty three (that’s me)…six oscar one two (that’s Gary)…I’ve got something interesting going on down here at the Wildlife Exhibit you might want to see.” Knowing that Canyon pack was in the area, I replied, “I think I know what’s going on, I’ll be there soon.” Gary replied “yeah, we’ve got an animal in distress.” In distress! Oh goodie! Luke and I could barely contain ourselves. And of course we were stuck in a construction zone for five minutes, stopped by the flag lady. Repeating Gary’s words “in distress!” over and over again didn’t relieve our anxious itch to be there now, watching wolves and the “animal in distress”!

We finally arrived to the Wildlife Exhibit, and…nothing was happening. Great, we missed it all! But Gary was there and said that the wolves had just disappeared into the trees, and they had been working on taking down the aforementioned yearling bull bison. Every twenty minutes or so, Gary said, the pack would come out of the trees, work over the bison, then go back into the trees and rest. In effect, they were trying to gradually wear the young bull down enough until his fateful fatal end. We left the road for a bit, trying to see if we could find the wolves in the trees, when suddenly from behind us, one by one, the three wolves dropped off the road, trotting adjacent to us not twenty feet away. They hardly even acknowledged out presence, but continued straight for the young bison, who had wondered upstream and had crossed to the other side of the river. Swimming across the river, the black wolf caught up with the young bison and ran him back downstream toward us. The bison eventually stopped running and faced the wolf. With his head bowed low, butt in the air, tail wagging (similar to the “play” stance, if you know dog behavior), the wolf would get close to the bison, then shoot to the side as the bull made a quick charge, then get back in the bison’s face. He would repeat this over and over, trying to wear down the bison and possible get the bison to make a mistake. Eventually, the white wolf got interested and crossed the river to help. [A weird thing about the wolves that I’ve noticed is that they frequently seem nonchalant about attacking their prey. One wolf will be making a move on the prey, while the others just sit on the sidelines staring, like they are deciding whether it is worth their time or not to help out. And often they won’t assist in the attack.] Hooves were flying everywhere, horns were tossed violently at the wolves, and the wolves kept coming in for more. From the back, the white would sneak in a lunge while the black distracted the bison from the front. I can still vividly see the bison kick that knocked straight into the white wolf’s head. Her head flung back with the blow, but she was only momentarily stunned. It was at that moment that I realized how dangerous it is for these wolves to attempt taking down prey, bison especially. I actually began to feel afraid for the wolves, afraid that I would witness the death of one of my favorite wolves.

But the white wolf was fine, and she kept at it. Into the river, then back on the meadow, the wolves continued their harassing of the bison. The gray wolf had joined in too, as well as another bull bison, trying to help defend the young bull. There were several other bull bison there as well, but they virtually ignored everything that was going on around them and kept grazing, which seems to be very strange behavior. It’s as if they know that the young bull is done for and it’s not even worth raising an eyebrow at. Eventually the wolves retired to the trees again for a long rest. The wolves lazed about in the trees and the talus hillside, rolling around in the snow, sniffing interesting things in the dirt, taking cat-naps, surveying the area, etc.

As the wolves lounged about, many vehicles (mostly construction and maintenance workers) and bikers passed by, and even though we were all lined up with scopes and binoculars looking at the wolves, hardly anyone stopped to see what we were staring at. This always amazes me. Nearly all of these people would be stoked to see wolves, and, goodness gracious, you’re in Yellowstone National Park! There are incredible large predatory mammals everywhere in the park, and you don’t even take a second to stop and take a look or ask what we are seeing! They just keep on moving, oblivious or insensible to the world around them. Most of us never take a look around. If you never look, you won’t ever know, and you won’t ever care.

The gray wolf came out again and made a few attempts at the calf, but could do nothing alone, and the others weren’t too interested, so he retreated back to the trees. It is always so hard to leave when you are so close to seeing the rare event of wolves taking down their prey, but we knew that these attacks can last up to two days, so we made the decision to leave, because we had work to do (like watch some elk poop so we could collect it).

That evening, we found the injured yearling bull making his way down the river. I think that the Canyon pack fell asleep and accidentally slept too long, losing track of their prey! Two days later, he would be seen walking stiffly and sorely west, almost out of the park. A noble fight for survival for both the wolves and the bison, and the young bull would survive. It's not an easy thing to take down a bison, even a small one! Now, will the injured bison survive future attacks from the freshly awakened grizzly bears!

Here are some of my favorite pictures of the three wolfateers:

Easter!

2010-04-03T22:01:00.037-06:00

Two parentals for a very white Easter visit! (So now we get the snow, sheesh!) It snowed continuously for several days, but the animals didn't mind one bit...

One Bear

Two bears (one is on a carcass at the very left edge of the fence...hard to see, but it is a bear)

Along with these two bears hanging out near the carcass, there were four wolves waiting nearby, probably hoping for an opportunity to steal a bite or two when the bears were full.

Mom says "oh c'mon, you've had your turn, let the others have some food!" to the one bear that refused to leave the carcass.

Bear attack survivor?

Wolf attack survivor?

Fish attacker and bison scavenger.

The wild researcher man of Yellowstone....

....has been tamed.

From the Yellowstone adventurist Cara Fadel

2010-03-29T16:50:00.000-06:00

Luke and I had the opportunity to join Jesse for a brief, yet incredibly satisfying 29 hours in Yellowstone. We came for the second of the two-day bison survey and joined Greg, Megan, Claire and M.C. with the mission of counting all of the bison in the study area. 1, 2, 3…849, 850 bison! Sticking with the theme of counting, I thought I would list my top 10 favorite memories from the trip. In no particular order:

1. Rescuing a great horned owl from the side of the highway who had apparently been hit by a car. She was affectionately named Pricilla, and appropriately called Illa for short. She was very sick. Sadly, we were later informed that she did not survive more than 24 hours. R.I.P. Illa.
2. Entering the park when it was clearly closed to the public. My memories of Yellowstone have always included waiting in long lines in one of the four lanes entering into the park and paying a fee at the collection booth. I felt very privileged and a little mischievous driving into the park without paying and avoiding all lines and other vehicles.
3. Acting as secretary as Jesse and Luke shouted out numbers for the bison survey. I am still not exactly sure how they could tell whether the bison was a bull or a cow.
4. Experiencing the antennae. I have read about it and seen pictures of it, but it was somehow more satisfying than I thought to hold the antennae and radio in my own two hands and listen for the beeps that signified nearby life.
5. Being in the presence of two very trained spotters. I made an eye doctor appointment after we got back from our trip. But in my defense of being quite bad at spotting animals, I really do think Jesse and Luke took after the hawk and have at least 20/10 vision. They have a gift for picking a needle out of a hay stack. Or in this case, a wolf out of a densely populated forest.
6. Accurately identifying a bluebird. Not that a bluebird is hard to ID. This was just the one time I pointed out something that neither Jesse nor Luke pointed out. I made up a game that consisted of winning points for each animal you identify. I am not a big fan of losing so I decided to call off the game, but if I recall correctly, the bluebird was worth at least 100 points.
7. Going for a 20 mile road ride on Jesse’s bike. I did not quite reach my destination goal of Old Faithful. When I rode up to 30 bison standing in the middle of the road I imagined myself being hurled into the air similar to what is pictured on the Yellowstone posters placed throughout the park and then decided to turn around.
8. Volunteering to be on bear lookout while Jesse and Luke performed a necropsy on the freshly murdered bison. The grizzlies were coming out of hibernation and were very hungry so someone had to keep post while the other two people poked and prodded at their food. I was given bear spray.
9. Snowshoeing in a tank top. Spring has come!
10. Spending time with Jesse and Luke in their element. I am amazed at their knowledge and passion for the outdoors. When I have the opportunity to hang out with them in the outdoors, I am always given a deeper appreciation for the Creator and His creation.

The Answers

2010-03-28T11:25:00.000-06:00

The Mountain: It be Mt. Moran (good job Luke!). That was a tricky one, since you would assume that it is a mountain in Yellowstone since I hardly leave this place.

The Coyote: My best guess is that it is the effects of mange (good job Swen!). It's the only critter we've seen with such problems. We haven't seen that coyote since. And yes, you too can make your car look like this coyote, by purchasing an CB radio kit from rightchannelradios.com, and slapping an antennae on the rear of your car!*

*Shameless advertising, I know! For those who don't know, Right Channel Radios is owned by my good friend Andrew.