Miraculous life in a desert canyon

This was the morning view, of glowing red rock, in our canyon campsite. I love gazing at it while eating breakfast.

Our vacation days followed a pattern, where I'd do a short ride with K first while the boys went for a run. One day during our ride, K and I visited the campsite that we stayed in when we first discovered this canyon. We camped under the cottonwood trees in the photo.

Each day, after riding with K, I'd leave her with the boys at the Labmobile, and head out for a solo ride. I'd go much further than she's capable of going now. One day, I visited an incredible rock formation, shaped like a ship by the winds that nearly constantly buffet it. You can see my bike at its base for scale.

Fortunately, K wasn't with me on that ride because it was "snake day". The first snake that I saw was a Gopher Snake, a big but non-venomous snake. Edward Abbey wrote that he befriended a gopher snake, enticing it to hang around his camp to keep rodents and rattlesnakes away.  This gopher snake was lying in the middle of a 4WD route so I tried to move him off of it so he wouldn't get squashed. He took up a pose like he planned to "strike" me. I decided to leave him alone.

The next snake was more dangerous. It was a Midget Faded Rattlesnake. Because he wasn't very big, less than 2' long, I initially didn't believe that he was a rattlesnake. But, he held up his rattle and shook it, and then I was sure. As he rattled, he slithered away at an astounding speed, disappearing under a boulder. When I read about his species back at camp, I learned that this snake was incredibly venomous, and I was lucky to have seen him from a distance rather than right below my feet.

When I arrived back at camp, the Runner told me that he'd spotted a falcon nest, in a pothole very high on a canyon wall, probably 300' off the ground. In the photo below, it's the hole in the center. The Runner first saw it when an adult falcon swooped all around the canyon and then entered the hole.

You can barely see the three nestlings inside the hole. You can see the bird poop below the hole. As we watched through the spotting scope, we saw that each baby bird would back up to the edge of the hole and hang his tail over the edge to relieve himself. We wondered how many nestlings lose their lives by falling while doing this dare-devil maneuver. It was so scary that I'd start talking to the nestlings, telling them to be careful, while they did it.

Seeing how high the hole was, we pondered the first flight of these baby falcons. They'd better be darn sure that they can fly before they take the leap!

Both parents were tending to the babies, bringing prey items to the nest for them. The parents were gone from the nest, presumably hunting, for the majority of the daylight hours. Sometimes they'd take a rest in the nest after delivering a meal but they mostly worked very hard.

One time, a parent hunted just above our campsite.

After sitting above our camp, he took flight.

Based on these photos, we think that they were Prairie Falcons rather than Peregrine Falcons but we're not absolutely certain. I'd be interested to hear the opinions of anyone with experience identifying falcons.

After the Runner's eagle eye discovered the nest, a sand storm arrived the very next day. There was absolutely no way to spend extended periods outside the van or to see the nest very well. Before the storm was fully underway, I took this photo. The visibility was horrendous. Moreover, each gust of wind sandblasted any exposed skin. We had sand in our eyes, in our ears, in our lungs.... you get the picture.

The sand storm day was a disappointment. However, it made me even more astounded that plants and animals can flourish in this environment. It's a tough place to eke out an existence but specially adapted species can shine.

The hot dry wind finally let up just before sunset... so we did take a short hike and enjoy the reprieve. Seeing the sun is even better after a day like that one!

Howling winds and coyote dinner

Living in the mountains means that, on occasion, Chinook winds hit us with force of a freight train. Last night, they swept across our forest, felling numerous trees. At least one fell on a power line and another fell on a phone line. This morning, since cell phones don't work at our house, we were living the primitive life. When the familiar hum of the refrigerator shattered the silence this afternoon, I ran around filling water containers (we have a well pump that requires electricity), washing dishes, and taking a shower. The power is presently still on so I'm trying to dash off a quick post because the winds are still howling - which means that the power could desert us at any moment.

As the winds arrived yesterday evening, K and I headed out for a hike while the runners (including R) did whatever it is that runners do. What a gorgeous evening to be outside!
On the hillside above this meadow, K found a boulder to gracefully scale.
We fell into our easy-going partnership that emerges naturally when we're a twosome. She scaled another boulder and seemed to request a photo!
We wandered outside our trail network, searching for signs of wildlife. We discovered that parts of the forest that the animals seem to have evacuated in the past month due to treacherous spring snow are now, finally, melting out. We wound around the labyrinth of snowbanks and emerged in a small clearing. I immediately recognized that I'd stood in this exact spot at least once before - even though it was far from a trail. A logger with a sense of humor marked a stump with an X, probably many years ago. Perhaps he found the tranquil spot as peaceful as I did. K stood with her paws on the X.
Perhaps part of why that logger marked the spot was that it was the only viewpoint to the west on that hillside.
As K and I wandered home for dinner, a migrating bird serenaded us from the tip-top of a dead pine tree. His warbling song rose into the sky and was carried far and wide by the wind. It was a peaceful moment. K and I sat still to listen to his concert for a few precious moments.

At the end of the hike, I felt grateful. Although my lower back is still causing some pain and tingling in my leg and foot, it's waning, and I felt like I could walk almost normally. Thank goodness!!!!!

As we arrived home from our hike, unknown to us, a coyote trotted down our driveway carrying his dinner in his jaws. It must take great patience and cunning to catch a pine squirrel, as they are as quick as lightning and can climb trees. I always have mixed feelings when I see a scene like this one. I'm glad that the coyote had a proper dinner but I'm sad for the squirrel.
Recently, I found a squirrel skull on the forest floor. For scale, I balanced it on my elk skull for a photo. The elk skull dwarfs the squirrel skull but their basic shape and design is remarkably similar.
This morning, we awakened to a loud wind that drowned out all other sounds in the forest. K and I headed out for a mountain bike ride, enjoying the warm sunshine but battling the wind like a pair of warriors.
Whenever we stopped, K's ears flopped in the wind.
Despite the furious wind, the natural world seemed to stir under the long awaited warmth of the sun. Butterflies somehow flew INTO the wind, keeping pace with me on my bike. That was humbling.

Bumblebees woke up to drink from the Pasqueflowers.
A garter snake had slithered out of hibernation to bask in the sun on a 4wd road. I studied him, and he studied me, flicking his forked tongue to 'smell' what I was.
As I rode to the west, I was blown to a stop and decided to take a photo. It's rare that the wind literally stops me in my tracks.
Finally, I explored some trails that have been too snowy to ride so far this season. I discovered to my elation that they had melted out and the flowers had taken over. However, as I stopped to take this photo far from any road, I saw a power company 4 wheel drive truck attempting to negotiate a VERY rough power line. Oh my, I thought, it may be a loooong time before we have power.
As it turned out, those hardy workers fixed the grid sooner than I expected. Thank you!

It's summertime...

Summer has finally arrived with sun, blue sky, and a bustle of new life in the mountains. I'm planning a vacation, sans internet, to enjoy summer so this blog will be taking a hiatus. For today, I just have a quick post.

K and I had a easy, almost lazy, ride. We stopped to enjoy the novel feeling of warm sun on bare shoulders. K also skidded to a halt to sniff a humongous columbine - I've never seen her so interested in a flower. I missed the cute sniff but I took a photo of her next to it. What a combination - a beautiful dog and a beautiful flower in a sea of aspen trees!Yesterday, I found a Green Gentian. I had no doubt of my identification because it's so distinctive looking but one detail bugged me. Some of my books said that the flowers have four petals, and one book said four or five petals. Today, during my ride with K, I found the reason for the confusion. The plant that I spotted yesterday had more flowers open. Only the 'crown' flower, perched on the tip-top of the plant, had five petals. All the other flowers had four.When we stopped in a meadow, a new flower had opened: an American Bistort (Polygonum bistortoides). The cylindrical flower was about 1-2" tall, and it balanced atop a tall stem as skinny and flexible as a grass stalk. As a slight breeze touched the meadow, all the snow white Bistort Heads swayed.
After I dropped off K, I saw my second snake of the year (the first was yesterday). I believe he was a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake, the only species that I've ever seen in our montane environment. As it stretched out in the sun, it reached 18" long and luxuriously basked. For a bribe of 10 insects, he let me take as many photos as I wanted. Now, *those* are beady eyes!These snakes survive our cold winters by going into dens up to 3' deep and crowding many snakes into a small cavern. They become dormant, and their body temperature falls to 35-40 degrees, staying just warmer than the critical freezing temperature. They can survive at this temperature without losing too much weight for up to 4 months. A common story is that all the garter snakes in one area emerge, en masse, from hibernation when the first thunder booms.

I enjoyed an awe-inspiring view of wildflowers and still-snowy mountains. I bet that the snow will vanish at light-speed if the lovely weather continues.
I hope that all of you have time to enjoy the bounty and beauty of summer with your families, human and canine. That's what I plan to do.