bears Archives ~ Rambling ranger

November 18, 2022November 19, 2022

Neighbors

OK, I’m back. It’s been a while since I wrote a post, more than six months. My Mom passed away and then life got really busy. I needed time to grieve. Something had to give, and with the internet connection challenges of my remote rural Alaska home, it was the blog. But I’m back now, and I wanted to mention a few of my neighbors, who I can always count on to bring a smile to my face.

I’m not talking about just my human neighbors, although they, too, can be counted on to bring a smile to my face. I’m not the only one who’s gotten busier lately. We seldom have time to visit anymore.

I see a lot more of my other neighbors, the wild ones. They visit often. Some of them are practically roommates, like the porcupine who moved in under the house in the spring of 2020, when I was a little late getting back home to Alaska due to Covid. I had to evict that squatter. He was a bad roommate. He chewed up the hose connecting my propane tank to the house.

Pine Grosbeak — Songbirds bring joy to my life.

Some neighbors are always welcome. My favorites are the songbirds. Waking up to their songs brings joy to my life daily.

Another species that I see often in the fall is the spruce grouse. It’s a mystery. I don’t understand it. These birds don’t migrate. They live here year-round. Yet they’re everywhere in the fall, but you NEVER see them in the spring and summer. Where are they? It is a mystery.

The snowshoe hares go through big population boom and busts, too. It’s about an 11-year cycle. Some years you are practically tripping on them, there are so many. Then the population crashes and you can go a whole summer and maybe see one.

Some neighbors can be obnoxious. I’m talking about tree rats, aka squirrels. They have no conception of private property and will trash your house and steal your insulation to use in their own home. Obnoxious. So I was really glad to see a new addition to my neighborhood this fall, a pine martin. He’ll clean out those pesky squirrels!

Another neighbor I’m usually happy to see is the moose. They’re good at teaching ME that lesson about private property. The lesson that there is no such thing. My land belongs to them, too. I hate to have them visit when they are intent on eating the garden or chowing down on that going-to-be oh-so-photogenic patch of head-high fireweed blossoms that would perfectly set off my best view, the day before they would flower.

Black Bear Cubs — Cute, but stay outta my yard!

Then there’s the neighbor that Alaska is famous for, the one I am much happier NOT seeing in my yard. Ever. Bears. I could see either black bear or grizzlies in my neighborhood, although thank goodness not as often as I saw them when I was renting a house in the middle of a soapberry patch. But you have to always be aware, every single time you walk out the door, that they could be there, maybe just around the corner. I mean, I’m glad I live in a place where I can still run into a bear on Main Street, as I did this summer in Kennecott. But I hope they stay away from my house!

I have another new neighbor in the ‘hood, down in McCarthy town, in Clear Creek, where I get my water. We are getting a few, though I wouldn’t call it a run yet, red salmon now coming up Clear Creek. We’ve had an October run of silver salmon for a long time, but the reds have only started showing up the last few years, in August.

It’s because of the dynamic landscape we live in, constantly changing and changing ever more quickly these days due to the glacial retreat caused by global climate change. The hydrological changes in the town of McCarthy are especially striking. Land that was forest when I first moved here is now wetland. The little pond at the toe of the glacier is now a big lake. These changes have made the area more attractive for some creatures, like beaver and salmon, but caused some big challenges for us, the human residents.

Dall's Sheep above Chitina — Dall’s Sheep above Chitina

There are other neighbors living a little farther away, but still in what I would consider the neighborhood. These friends I don’t see as often maybe but enjoy whenever I get the chance. There’s that family of swans in the Chokosna ponds area. It’s always nice to catch up with them, and see how many cygnets they’re raising this year. I might see the occasional bald eagle, or rarer still, a glimpse of Dall’s Sheep in the Crystalline Hills or up above the town of Chitina. Maybe I’ll see a lynx along the McCarthy Road, or a weasel in Kennecott. I’m glad to live in a community with so many wonderful neighbors!

Thanks to Anne of Slow Shutter Speed for this week’s Lens-Artist Photography Challenge, “Wildlife Close To Home”.

January 22, 2021January 24, 2021

Biodiversity is an Emotional Issue

When it comes to biodiversity, my feelings run through the full gamut of emotions.

Happiness

Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge — Biodiverse landscapes make us happy.

Being close to nature has been a priority of mine for nearly my whole adult life. From my first backpacking trip on, I realized that immersing myself in landscapes teeming with life – many different forms of life interacting easily and naturally with each other – kept me healthy, happy and sane. Knowing that I am just a piece of a very big puzzle, a cog in the unbelievably complex wheel of the Universe, helps me to regain a proper perspective when I get overwhelmed by challenges that seem too great for me to handle. It’s really not all about me; my problems are so inconsequential when I am surrounded by the real Big Picture.

I’m not alone. It has been acknowledged by cultures all over the globe that healthy, thriving ecosystems are necessary for our physical, mental, and spiritual health. Variety IS the spice of life.

Gratitude

Death Valley Monkeyflower — Plant biodiversity is incredibly important in our lives.

Every day I am grateful for the complexity of life. Biodiversity is responsible for all the choices we have in the foods we can eat. It is responsible for life-saving medicines, with more being discovered all the time. Lack of biodiversity has been connected to many disease outbreaks. Biodiversity is accountable for resiliency and flexibility in the face of dramatic changes to our planet. It is necessary for the very air we breathe and water we drink.

As a park ranger, biodiversity is essential to my employment. It’s probably the main reason people visit national parks. But you don’t have to work in the tourism industry to be economically dependent on biodiversity. According to the Living Planet Index, people derive approximately $125 trillion of value from natural ecosystems each year. Gotta be grateful for that.

Concern

We are losing our biodiversity at an astonishing rate, a reason for great concern. Species extinctions currently vary between 100 and 10,000 times the background extinction rate of one to five extinctions a year over the history of the planet. That doesn’t even get into the decline in populations of many species not yet in danger of extinction. The average population size of vertebrate species has declined by 68 percent from 1970-2016. Since biodiversity is essential to our survival, we should all be concerned.

Sadness

Monarch Butterflies — The Western Monarch Butterfly population is down more than 99% from the 1980s count.

Witnessing this decline breaks my heart. It makes me very sad when I read about mass die-offs of seabirds in western Alaska or see with my very own eyes the decline of a species like the Monarch Butterfly.

Fear

Denali National Park — After a lengthy court battle, grizzly bears are still covered by the Endangered Species Act in the contiguous US.

As I watch ecosystems crash one by one, as we continue to do little to nothing to address this issue, I feel fear. I fear for our quality of life and our very survival as a species as we continue to degrade the resources we need to depend on, both now and in the future.

Guilt

Wramgell St. Elias national Park & Preserve — Like most of us, I need to make more conscious choices.

I’m an American. I’m guilty. It’s ridiculous how much we Americans contribute to the loss of habitat and the loss of biodiversity. All because we have been trained to constantly want more, more, more, just to keep our consumer-driven culture intact.

I didn’t get a driver’s license until I was 50. I didn’t want to become part of the problem. But I am part of the problem. I’ve driven a couple of hundred thousand miles since then.

I’m not much of a consumer for an American. I’m not one of those getting Amazon packages every day. I seldom buy something unless I need it. But I don’t always buy organic or make wise choices about eating locally. Pesticides, herbicides, and industrial farming methods are some of the main drivers behind the loss of biodiversity. Transportation of foodstuffs from one part of the world to destinations tens of thousands of miles away is an incredible waste of our planet’s resources. I could do better. We all could do better.

Anger

graffiti on redwood tree — Disrespect for living things makes me angry.

Although I feel guilt, I feel a lot more anger. I feel angry at everyone that disrespects nature and the diversity of life. The thoughtlessness of an individual vandalizing or destroying a tree or a flower can make me mad, but the heartlessness of powerful corporations and individuals who put short-term profit before the long-term health of the planet makes me rage.

Despair

Sea Star and hermit crabs — Hermit Crabs scavenging a dead sea star

I’ve felt a lot of despair over the last 4 years as I’ve watched all the hard-won environmental reforms of the previous 50 years go by the wayside. I’ve felt despair as I’ve had to stand by while the Trump administration gutted the Endangered Species Act and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, two key pieces of legislation for the protection of biodiversity.

It can be overwhelming when the reality of the situation really sinks in. When I walk a beach in Olympic National Park that no longer supports starfish, or think of the reefs in the Florida Keys that I used to snorkel that are now white, dead skeletons, I feel despair.

Joy

But it’s not all doom and gloom. We humans have some amazing capabilities. We can turn things around when we really try. There are success stories out there. There are species that have been brought back from the edge of extinction and are now thriving.

Elephant seals are one of those species. So are sea otters. So are bison. They’re out there, those examples of times when we’ve corrected the mistakes we’ve made. I feel great joy when I see these success stories.

Hope

Yellowstone National Park — American Bison have come back from the brink of extinction.

“With unity, we can do great things.” – Joseph R. Biden

Although my emotions run the whole gamut, the main emotion I am feeling right now when it comes to biodiversity is hope. A new day is dawning. We have an opportunity right now to turn things around and build a better world for the future, a world where biodiversity matters. But to make this happen, we need to change our mindsets. Instead of asking ourselves, “What will best benefit me?”, we need to ask ourselves, “What will best benefit us, all of us? What policies can we enact that will be good for not just the short-term, but for the long-term health of our Mother the Earth?” We need to take a good look at how we do things and figure out better ways to do them, ways that protect biodiversity and lead to a cleaner, greener planet. We have a chance, and we need to act on it. Now.

“It’s time for boldness because there’s so much to do.” – Joseph R. Biden

Thank you to Patti of Pilotfishblog for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge theme, Emotions.

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve — Biodiversity is good for all of us!

Answers to last week’s quiz – 1) Purple Cress, alpine 2) Purple Mat, desert 3) Bristly Langlosia, desert 4) Spring Beauty, alpine 5) Bigelow Mimulus, desert

December 11, 2020December 12, 2020

Amazing Alaskan Animals

For this week’s Lens Artists Photo Challenge, Patti of the Pilotfish blog chose “things that begin with the letter A”. Alaska, where I live. Arizona, where I sometimes play. Anza-Borrego, Arches National Park…. so many choices.

As I pondered my choices, I heard thundering hooves charge right by my window. I dashed to the door to see what it was all about, and watched a dog chase a big bull moose through the fields into the woods behind the house.

That’s not necessarily an uncommon sight where I live, but it would be unusual for most folks. So it came to me – what about Alaskan animals? That would be a worthy “A” subject! Better yet, how about amazing Alaskan animals?

After all, Alaska is synonymous with animals to a lot of folks. So I thought I would share a few photos of animals often seen in The Great Land yet rather rare in most other places (with the exception of Canada, of course.)

After all, one of the best places to see wildlife in the entire state is Denali National Park, and I was a park ranger there for 2 summers. I must have a few photos on file…

Sometimes I even have stories to go with the pictures – for instance, this wolf. That day I was leading some visitors on a Discovery hike in the Stoney Hill region. We had just gotten off the bus and I had barely started into my orientation talk when I saw him coming. I told my visitors to stand together and be real quiet, and they would soon see something really special. He passed us less than 50 yards away. After this super cool experience, to start our hike, I asked each visitor to share their most memorable wilderness experience. I do this to gauge just how tough a hike the visitors will be comfortable with. The first woman I asked, jaw still dropped in wonder, replied, “It just happened.” Everyone on the trip agreed.

Another story is about this little marmot. He was up at the Eielson Visitor Center. At first, all you could see were his legs, standing upright under the frame of the bus. He looked like a mini-mechanic, hard at work fixing something down there. What he was actually doing was probably making more work for real mechanics, eating salt from the dust abatement chemicals they spray on the road off the undercarriage. Sometimes the rodents will eat holes in the hoses in their quest for the tasty treat. About a week later, rangers reported a Hoary Marmot at Wonder Lake. Wonder Lake is forest habitat, not the alpine tundra that marmots normally live in. This little guy had stowed away under the bus and ended up in a strange new land! He was eventually trapped and returned to his home territory.

If I were to reincarnate as an animal, I think I would choose a marmot. After all, they live in the most sublime landscapes, above the treeline in alpine tundra, my favorite place. They’re fat and happy, eat flowers, play all summer and sleep all winter. For a rodent, they don’t have too many predators. They just have to keep an especially keen eye out for Golden Eagles.

But they’re not my totem animal. Everyone tells me my totem animal is the bear. We’re built the same, and I have this weird bear magnetism, which has given me a lot of bear tales – too many for this post. Besides, if you’ve ever been to Alaska, you probably have your own tales to tell – about those amazing Alaskan animals!

August 8, 2019

Wolverine Mountain

Sunset on University Peak, Wrangell St. Elias National Park

Alone

The plane dropped me off on the top of the mountain on a beautiful sunshiny summer afternoon. I looked around at the undulating green tundra surrounding me and across the mile-deep chasm in front of me to an endless vista of nameless mountains and glaciers. I was alone.

Alone. It took a few moments for it to sink in just HOW alone I was. There was no one else around, or likely to be around, either, for miles and miles because “you can’t get there from here.” Due to big, burly glacial rivers and precipitous cliffs, the only way to get there was to fly. I had been an avid backpacker and wilderness wanderer all my life, but I had never experienced true wilderness like this. I took off all my clothes and ran around naked for a while to celebrate, just because I could.

Sunrise Surprise

The next morning I got up especially early. Although the view was spectacular wherever I looked, I had a special spot in mind. Just a few hundred yards from my tent was a small pond accented by the brilliant magenta hues of a patch of fireweed. Across the pond was a view of the most spectacular peaks in the entire range. If I timed it right, I should be able to catch the alpenglow on those peaks in that sweet morning light, with the pond and fireweed in the foreground. I grabbed my tripod and camera, nothing else, and headed out to watch the sunrise.

It seemed like I could see forever across the mossy tundra, but appearances are deceiving. The land was as rumpled as a blanket thrown over a litter of puppies. I dropped down over a rise – right onto – a grizzly bear, grazing on the grass.

University Range, Wrangell St. Elias National Park — University Range from Wolverine Mountain

Number one rule in bear country is never surprise the bear, and I was just feet away, having approached swiftly and silently. Even though I was way too close, he hadn’t noticed me yet. I hightailed it out of there as fast as I could, and as soon as I was far enough away to not surprise him, I started singing loudly to make him aware of my presence. “Oh Lord, please don’t let the bear eat me” went the refrain.

I returned to my tent, which was way too close to that bear for comfort, and grabbed the things I needed to spend all day away (including the bear spray I’d left in the tent the first time out). I was pretty nervous when I came back to camp that evening, but thankfully he was long gone.

Unexpected Encounter

The next morning, I packed up and headed for the landing strip to wait for the plane.

It was another beautiful day, but a bit breezier than the last two. I heard the buzz of the plane and knew my ride was on its way. The pilot, Kelly Bay, started his final approach. An errant gust of wind slammed into the plane, tipping one of the wings perilously close to the ground. Kelly accelerated and got out of there fast, waving goodbye, accident narrowly averted.

View from Wolverine Mountain, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park — Upper Chitistone River Canyon

Since it was too windy to land, I was kind of stranded. After all, you can’t get there from here, so all I could do was wait until the wind died down and he returned. So I kicked back on my pack and contemplated the sublime scenery. There are definitely worse places, and circumstances, to be stranded in. Since I was supposed to work that evening, I just looked at it as a bonus day off in paradise!

That is, until I saw the dark brown shape running across the tundra. It was pretty far away, and there’s no sense of scale above timberline, but it was the same dark brown color as that damn bear. I thought, “ Oh no, not again!”

Wrangell St. Elias National Park — Beautiful views in every direction

So I started singing. As I did, I pulled my binoculars from my pack to get a good look at the beast. Hmmm, it’s got a tail. It’s NOT a bear. Wolf? Strange, wolves don’t run with their tails between their legs like that, and I’ve never seen one that dark brown color.

Then the animal heard my voice and started to turn, running back the way it had come. I saw the yellow stripe along its side. Damn! Wolverine! I’d never seen one before. What a rare and wonderful sighting! I was so mad at myself for chasing away a wolverine before I even had a chance to photograph it.

Chitistone Canyon, Wrangell St. Elias National Park — Downstream on the Chitistone

When Kelly finally returned later that afternoon, I shared with him the story of my little adventure.

“Wolverine, huh? You’re lucky! What a great sighting!” He contemplated my story for a few moments. “You know, we call this airstrip Chitistone Heights. I hate that name. Sounds like a soap opera. I think I’ll rename it after your experience. Wolverine Mountain.”

That was 25 years ago, almost to the day. Wolverine Mountain it is, beloved by many. Michelle McAfee even wrote a song about it. Although I practice Leave No Trace, somehow I seem to have made my mark on this wilderness. How amazing it is to live in a place where our stories can still become part of the landscape.

Tag: bears

Neighbors

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