Owling We Did Go

Let's take a break from the travel posts on this blog, and let me tell you about what Joan and I did Thanksgiving evening. We went owling. That is, we visited Kelly Williams-Sieg and Bob Placier at the Buzzards Roost Nature Preserve Banding Station, near Chillicothe, Ohio, hoping to see a Northern saw-whet owl. In addition to being a bird bander, Kelly is an instructor and PhD student at Ohio University, while Bob is an instructor in the School of Natural Resources at Hocking College.

At Buzzards Roost the permit-holding bird banders deploy mist nets to capture birds for purposes of study. The nets come in various mesh sizes, so the banders need a net with a mesh size suited to the size of the birds they're interested in. To avoid possibly injuring a bird, no netting attempts are made if there is rain, wet snow, or winds above 15mph.

Once captured the birds are measured, weighed, and banded (a small aluminum anklet is placed on the bird). Other banding stations will report to Buzzard's Roost if they catch a bird that had been banded there, and vice-versa. This exchange and accumulation of information allows study of bird populations and migratory patterns. In the autumn, Kelly and Bob study small owls, especially the saw-whet owl, which summers in Quebec and other northern forests. The saw-whet travels at night and is inconspicuous during the day, so little is known about their presence in Ohio: when? how many? how far do they go? (As an aside, let me note that the name "saw-whet" is probably a corruption of the French word for owl, chouette.) 

Joan had attended a public-invited owling night earlier in November, and had a chance to see and hold one of these awwww-inducing bundles. I was away in Fairfield, but another one of the 40 or so visitors took this picture for her:

Kelly was kind enough to invite Joan, and by extension me, to drive down to Buzzards Roost, about 80 minutes away, as a post-feast activity on Thanksgiving evening. Upon arrival at the parking area, I heard an odd, regularly repeating tone. It turns out that the owls are lured towards the nets by broadcasting loud recordings of their calls.

On our first walk in the dark down to the nets we discovered an Eastern screech owl, not a saw-whet, but this was still exciting for us. The screech owl, about twice the weight of a saw-whet, has false ear tufts that give the diminutive beastie a distinctive appearance.

Back at the house, Kelly and Bob prepared to enter the data for our screech owl, which was carried in a mesh sack. In this picture Bob is extracting the owl from the sack, while Kelly prepares a log entry.

Then Bob took some measurements, while the owl's talons still clung to the sack. The screech owl kept its eyes closed or slitted, as if thinking, "If I can't see you, you can't see me."

Once the owl was freed from the bag, the feathers were inspected under ultraviolet light. There is a short explanation of this process here and also here. To briefly quote,

A pigment in owl feathers called porphyrin fluoresces under ultraviolet light, and because it fades quickly with time, the degree of glow gives banders a handy way to age feathers.

A more detailed description of aging the bird by UV light is located here.  Zooming in on our screech owl's wing:

Then it was time to weigh the bird, a process in which the owl was not harmed but lost some dignity.

Kelly and Bob were reluctant to guess at the gender of our owl. For the Eastern screech owl, the average weight of males and females differs by only 8 grams (208 vs. 200).

Then it was time for us to admire our guest. Here, Bob holds him/her, and you can see a band on one leg. It turns out that this owl was captured and banded at this same station three years ago! Now that he/she was no longer being stuffed into cups, the owl's eyes have opened some but not fully.

There were three other visitors to the banding station that night: Tim, who lives close by, and his two sons. One son was the first volunteer to hold the owl.

The owl's behavior is very relaxed, not struggling, as if it were tame. But it is not, it is just waiting for a chance. During the earlier public-invited evening, a saw-whet wasn't held tightly enough by one of the audience, and the owl immediately tried to fly away. It hit a window at low speed and was recovered without harm.

Then I got my chance. The owl felt quite warm to the touch; owls average a body temperature of 104°F.

I snapped this closeup while Joan was holding the owl.

Then the screech owl was placed in a dark room so that his/her eyes could adapt to the dark. Releasing an owl who can't yet see in the dark could result in the owl crashing into an obstacle. When we went down to check the nets for a second time, we took the owl along (in the sack) as we trod down almost to the parking area, where there was more of an opening. It was a moonless light with twinkling stars and the steady beacon of Jupiter, and by this second walk, I was able to walk without my headlamp, navigating by the opening the road made in the trees silhouetted against the sky, and the paler surface of the road.

Kelly handed the owl to one of the sons -- they agreed to take turns releasing owls -- and when let go the owl shot off. It was fast; I never saw it, although others said he passed directly overhead!

The second and third time we checked the mist nets there were no owls. If you're trying to establish how late in the year saw-whets are in Ohio, then you've got to work past the last to find out. Strolling up and down the hill to the nets was a good way to work off some of the Thanksgiving feast, in any case. And I was thrilled with holding my first owl.

We'll be back next fall.

Washington Odyssey: Mount Rainier (part 2)

July 6
Our second and final day exploring Mount Rainier National Park began with a long drive to the White River Campground, the jumping-off spot for the Emmons Moraine Trail. (We would have several longish drives this day.) The trail starts out broad and gentle, with occasional peeks at Mount Rainier.

There was one switchback area, but the trail was still in good condition. Note the young girl passing us!

And here is my obligatory watercourse photograph, a small stream that crosses the trail.

The moisture and soils at this point on the trail supported several species of wildflowers, including this trillium.

As we continued to gradually ascend, the view towards the mountain opened up, and parts of the moraine left behind by Emmons Glacier, on the northeastern side of Mount Rainier, came into view. Some damage from the intense spring flooding was already visible.

One mile from the end of the White River Campground the trail splits, with the Emmons Moraine Trail leaving to the left, and the Glacier Basin Trail continuing on. Just before turning left we began to see snow reappearing on the main trail, in the shady parts. On the moraine trail, we soon had to cross the Inter Fork.

Fortunately, a temporary bridge was provided, with handrails. As you can see, there was so much downed timber that materials for the bridge would have been right at hand.

After crossing the bridge, the trail first winds through the broadest section of the moraine, with Rainier straight ahead.

The trail then begins to hug the edge of the moraine. The next photo also shows the terminal moraine, a mass of rubble and ice at the foot of the mountain, with a melt stream issuing from it. We're walking up along the lateral moraine, on the right, which hosts conifers and hardy bushes. Its composition, of rubble left behind by the retreating glacier, is revealed on the steep, bare slopes.

Zooming in on the foot of the terminal moraine, we can see the melt stream emerging from the debris-blanketed ice. Always take your binoculars.

Looking back the way we had come, there was a small glacial lake cupped in the moraine material, and beyond our valley, another range of mountains.

Here we had lunch. The sun was bright, and the vegetation had become shorter and sparse, so I sat facing away from the sun, which warmed and dried my back after I removed my daypack.  On the way back to the campground and car, we encountered this calypso orchid.

The next drive was to Sunrise Point, where the road to the Sunrise Visitor Center makes a 180° turn along Sunrise Ridge. There is a parking area here from which to admire 360° of mountains, including, of course, Rainier.

This small lake just below the point still had a frozen surface, although pockets of melt water speckled the snow.

A short drive further took us to the visitor center, at 6400' altitude, which would not open for two more days because of the snow.

This picture shows Rainier looming behind the closed center.

We took a short hike from the parking area, but not on the trail we intended, the Emmons Vista trail. The piled snow on the edge of the parking area obscured our trail. Yes, there was a sign, but there was also a three or four foot mound of snow to be surmounted, which deflected our attention. We followed the broad and smooth, if snow-covered, access road west, and then a trail on its left. On the trail the snow was deeper, making the walk slower and giving me an appreciation for snowshoes. Finally we decided we wouldn't get to a significant viewpoint or turnaround point soon, and walked back. First we observed, through binoculars, climbers working their way down Rainier; we thought 3pm was late to be up on the mountain, it being a sunny day, but there they were. This picture shows our closest approach to Rainier.

The drive to Paradise required backtracking almost all the way to the Ohanapecosh Visitor Center, and then driving on the Paradise road. The roads and parking area were clear of snow,

but snow was still everywhere, except a few south-facing slopes, despite Paradise being 1,000 feet lower than Sunrise (5400' vs. 6400'). In photos one usually sees the meadows of Paradise dappled with spring wildflowers but this time, well, here's a picture of one trailhead.

The overall view towards Rainier was this:

Besides hiking and being a jumping-off point for attempts to climb Mount Rainier, Paradise is known for the Paradise Inn. In this next picture, you see the entrance and one wing of the Inn. There is also a symmetry-fulfilling wing on the left, outside the photo.

We had an excellent dinner in the Paradise Inn Dining Room, and explored the lobby and gift shop afterwards.

This gentleman was playing the piano in the lobby when we first arrived, but sadly he didn't stay long after that.

Then it was time for the long drive back to our motel in Packwood, and to pack for tomorrow's drive back to Richland.

July 7
We began by driving east on US Route 12, to pass through to the dry side of the mountains. There was an extra 20-minute wait while road crews worked on damage from, yet again, the heavy snow melt. We drove past Rimrock Lake, where we stopped briefly, and lunched in Ellensburg. I didn't take any pictures this day. After unloading the rental car at Lynn and Elisabeth's house we returned it to the airport, and repacked yet again with airline rather than automotive packing restrictions and strategies in mind.

July 8
Today Joan and I flew home. The leg between Richland/Pasco and Denver was scenic, and I took a few interesting pictures from the airplane.

 

And then, after 3 weeks in the state of Washington, we were home again.

Washington Odyssey: Mount Rainier National Park (part 1)

July 5
Today we departed from the Blue Heron Inn and headed for Mount Rainier National Park. We had a quick lunch in the town of Packwood, only 88 miles away, and where we would also spend two nights. Then it was up highways 12 and 123 to the Ohanapecosh Visitor Center, in the southeastern corner of the park, where, as well as viewing the exhibits, we picked up a map of the hiking trails in the area.

The first walk we took is known as the "Grove of the Patriarchs," a gentle walk through old growth forest.

After the first stretch of forest, there is a suspension bridge across the river.

The sign says "Recommended one person on the bridge at a time," but sometimes that warning is ignored. After the bridge, much of the path is on a boardwalk.

The fallen trees provide a platform and, as they decay, nutrition for seedlings and young trees. Such trees are called "nurse logs."

In the above photo, several trees are growing from one nurse log whose decay is advanced but not complete. Often a straight line, or colonnade, of trees reveals where once there was a nurse log.

One downed tree revealed fascinating swirls and knobs, looking almost like a lava flow or topographic map.

At another point there was a short side path to the junction of a creek and a spring rich in iron and sulfur.

A frog was calmly spying on us from just a few feet away. I wonder what he thought of us?

A loop on the boardwalk took us through the heart of the grove, where the air was especially cool and the sunlight heavily filtered by the canopy.

A special platform for photo opportunities had been built in front of two towering trees.

Here's a small part of what you see if you gaze up. Looking any higher than this, the glare of the sun interfered.

After returning to the parking area we crossed the road and headed down to Silver Falls. Generally, this trail is a moderate downhill grade. Here is picture looking back up the way we had come, with the path on the right.

This image is of the first major cascade of the falls.

There is a strong whirlpool at the bottom of this plunge, which had trapped a convoy of logs. I was fascinating by their spinning, and wondered how long it would take for them to finally escape. A long time, I expect, perhaps when the current finally slows down. Not while I was there. Although the view is heavily misted from the falls, I took this video.

A short distance further is a bridge that crosses the gorge, giving me a vantage point from which to look straight down.

 And from the far side I took this picture aiming back up the watercourse.

This post has been full of trees and water. Well, we saw lots of trees and water on this Cascades trip. Waterfalls and bridges are very photogenic. I have a picture of a waterfall by the side of the road in this area, but I will omit it, to avoid overdosing you on waterfalls. Sitting on a rock to the side of this waterfall, however, was a juvenile American dipper, so we can expand this post to include trees, water, and birds. Always take your binoculars with you.

This fellow almost looks like a twin to the one we saw on Orcas Island; that picture is about three-quarters of the way into this post.

Tomorrow we would not get close to so much water, unless you count snow, but we would see Mount Rainier both on a hike and driving the highest paved road in the Mount Rainier National Park. Next post!