On the 5th Day of Hiking (Lake McArthur)

The weather looked uncertain from the get-go on Sept. 10th, leading Joan and me to start out wearing our rainpants, as they are awkward to don at the last minute. They also provide a windbreaking layer over thin hiking pants.

We headed for Lake McArthur via the Big Larches trail, postponing any attempt at higher destinations such as Wiwaxy Gap or All Souls Prospect for better weather. The Big Larches trail soon climbed steeply along the flank of a boulder slope that cascades down from Mt. Schaffer.

In July this rock field is a likely place to spot hoary marmots and pikas; however, in September, most marmots have begun hibernating. The weather today may have also been a factor. Nonetheless we did see a couple of pikas busy with their foraging, adding tasty vegetation to their winter stores. In this photo, the pika's head is blurred because he/she is busy yanking out the goodies.

Pikas are workaholics, and for good reason.

The trail then passed into the woods for which the trail is named. The core of one old stump provided shelter to growing mosses.

The Big Larches trail took us to Schaffer Lake and then to the McArthur Pass trail. Along the way we saw some fresh scat that looked very bear-like, and we began calling out "Yo Bear!" every few minutes as long as we were in the woods.

On arriving at Schaffer Lake we saw clouds billowing up into valley from the far side, and the air became misty wet with light showers alternating with times of cessation. Not at all like last September! We took the High Level trail to McArthur, walking through clouds. Then we reached the cairn marking our arrival in the valley of the lake.

Joan and I found a good spot on a rocky promontory to sit and eat our packed lunches, which always include three fabulous O'Hara cookies. We could see the lake but not the peaks surrounding it. Sometimes the far end of the lake was clouded in; the scene's mood changed often with the variable light.

Occasionally we could see the glacier at the far end. This photo was taken from the edge of the water.

We finished lunch in a persistent light rain, and decided to return expeditiously by the Low Level trail followed by our less-favored route, the Alpine Meadow to the Elizabeth Parker hut. On the Low Level trail, before it dove into McArthur Pass, we saw four ptarmigans. Their plumage was beginning to turn white in preparation for winter. With the drizzle and fog, I didn't take any photos. Well, there was this one.

No ptarmigans in this picture.

The rain now changed into a rain/snow mix, but favoring rain. We marched back to the cabin, and closer to O'Hara, the decrease in altitude converted the remaining snowflakes to rain, which slacked off by the lakeshore.

The snow is sticking not far up.

Joan and I were shocked to find it was now only 2:30!

It was time to find places to hang things to dry. There are never enough hooks to hang stuff after hours in the wet, at any place we've been. We must be messy.

After much draping of gear Joan noticed something on the smoke detector over the door to the bathroom. Binoculars confirmed that it was a brown bat.

Warm, cozy, and dozing.

Joan went to the lodge to summon help, and two staff guys soon arrived. Their contraption to hold the bat -- a cloth sack without a handle but a square opening -- couldn't be deployed against a vertical surface near the peak of the ceiling. They used a few folds of sack material as insulation while plucking the bat by hand off the smoke alarm. This all appeared to be business as usual; we were told there's a group of bats nesting in the eaves of the cabin housing the two lodge chefs. Still, we were relieved that we'd spotted the bat before retiring for the night!

Fingers crossed for tomorrow's weather. While we've been told that September is the best month for weather in the Canadian Rockies, that's an average. September, over the years, has been the wettest, driest, coldest, and hottest month we've experienced.

Where are the Owls? And ...

Owls
You may be wondering why you haven't heard about the barred owls that nested behind our house in 2009, 2010, 2011, and 2012. Here's a photo from 2012.

There's a mystery behind the silence. At first everything appeared to be proceeding normally, if late because of our cold spring (the winter that would never end). We heard and saw the owls, and occasionally glimpsed them visiting or nearby to the sycamore that they have always nested in.

Crows were building a nest just two houses north of the owls, and we didn't expect that to work out; one year the owls trashed a crow nest that was further away. Owls and crows don't get along. But it surprised us when a pair of red-shouldered hawks evicted the crows and took over the nest -- we started seeing red-shouldered hawks here only last year. We doubted that the owls and hawks would be comfortable so close to one another.

Then events happened so rapidly that we're at a loss as to cause and effect. Before we went to the Arc of Appalachia Wildflower Pilgrimage, there was an overnight thunderstorm. Also, we were awakened dramatically early one morning by both owls blasting their entire repertoire of hoots, calls, and cries at full volume. They sounded as if they were just outside our window, certainly in front of the house, a location they've never perched in before, and they were loud enough to jar us awake over the drone of an air purifier. At some point in the next few days we noticed that the crow/hawk nest was damaged, with sticks dangling, and no hawk was sitting in it any more. Was this thunderstorm damage? A midnight raid from the owls? An egg predator?

As the days continued to pass we saw less of our owls. Then we saw a squirrel entering that cavity, a sign that the owls weren't occupying it. Had there been predation that had affected both the owl and crow/hawk nest? Had whatever supported the owl nest within the chimney of the sycamore collapsed?

We hear the owls at most once a week now, and were granted only one good viewing after the turmoil. Our wish is that they will nest in that sycamore again next year, but we can only wait and see. The red-shouldered hawks continue to visit the neighborhood, but they're obviously not nesting here either.

Bats
The annual visit from little brown bats repeated in 2013. There's a spot under the top step of the deck where, each spring, a little brown bat begins to spend the daylight hours. Check again the next day and there's two. After a while there's half a dozen or even ten. Here's the gang from 2009:

After a few weeks they move on. This year, they left May 19th. Our guess is that we're hosting a hunting camp, and when it's time to start families, a better bat roost is required. 

Phoebes
The phoebes nested on the little platform under our deck this year. They don't stay with us every year, but this is one of them. This cheers us up in the absence of the owls. In earlier years we've seen little heads poking up over the edge of the nest. This time they appear to have only one chick. Here is a long-zoom view; if you approach too closely, phoebe chicks are liable to burst out of the nest even if they aren't ready yet.

The phoebe chick fledged on May 20th, and we've seen it flying in close pursuit of a parent ... begging to be fed and learning to hunt, no doubt.

Hummingbirds
The hummingbirds were also delayed by the long, cold spring. We saw our first hummer on May 9th, the latest since we began writing it down on the calendar. The previous latest arrival was May 5th, in 2005. These aren't scientific observations, but we do write it down when we see the first one. So far we have seen only the females, which is unusual.

Chimney Swifts
Chimney swifts are also regular guests. Their chittering and swooping flight makes even the most stoic person think, That must be fun. When they dive into and burst out of our chimney, we hear a "foop!" in the living room.

Tree Frog
He wasn't a bird, but we also had a visit from a gray tree frog. There had been a loud noise we couldn't identify until Joan spotted this fellow resting on our deck railing. He's really rather small ... note the nail head to the left ... but this photo shows his inflated voice sac. (Click on the photo to enlarge).

He turned out to be very relaxed, even when I opened the door (gently) and stepped closer (slowly) to snap his portrait. He has changed into his grey phase to match the deck.

He's living somewhere in the bushes next to the deck. We often hear him, but have seen him only this once.

That's our state of the spring report!

"Our" Bats Are Back

The group of little brown bats that visits us for several weeks each spring has returned. This is a hunting party of males, not a colony seeking a roost. We're pleased to see them and at the same time are concerned for them, because white nose syndrome has been discovered in Ohio this year. These fliers are very welcome, being voracious insect eaters, an especially valuable trait this year as the extremely wet spring (we are 9" above normal for the year) has led to an early crop of mosquitoes.

Our guests snooze during the day in the top corner of the underside of the deck stairs, a snug spot for them but a difficult one for me as photographer. Here they are.

Our notable milestones of spring (fauna, not flora) are the owls, chimney swifts, hummingbirds, and bats.

Our Little Brown Bats

For the last several years, we've had bats, the common 'little brown bat', roosting on the underside of the deck stairs. Perhaps they are hunting or scouting parties; they don't form a permanent colony, but visit us (and eat lots of bugs and insects) for a couple of weeks each spring. Their numbers may vary between one and a dozen from day to day.

I took a bunch of photographs of the ball-o-bats that formed in the corner of the stair. The entire clump is only 3 inches across. Trying several settings -- macro, regular, macro-zoom, 'intelligent assist', high sensitivity -- two came out that were useable. Intelligent assist mode turned on the flash that I had turned off, but fortunately it didn't disturb our friends, possibly because it was noon and the world outside their nook was already bright. Here's the flash photo. This is looking up at the underside of the top step.

Here they are in natural light. I had to raise the camera's maximum exposure time higher than its default of 1/8 second.

I thanked them for their pictures, promised not to disturb their slumber again, and tiptoed away. Happy hunting, guys!