North Meets South – Changes In Latitudes

Denali National Park

North meets South annually in my life.  I migrate. As beautiful as Alaska is in the winter, like the birds and the whales, I prefer to head for warmer climes when the days get shorter.

North meets South in flowers
In the following pairs of flowers, can you tell which is North and which is South?

For years I worked in Death Valley National Park in the winter. People used to tell me, “Wow, you go from one extreme to the other! But I didn’t see it that way.

Death Valley National Park
Death Valley or Denali?

Sure, there are big differences.  In some years I was moving from a park that contained the highest point in North America, Denali, to a park that held the lowest point, the Badwater Basin. But I was actually avoiding the extremes through my travels- escaping the cold of winter in Alaska and dodging the heat of summer in Death Valley.

Blackish Oxytrope
Plants in both places use many of the same strategies to survive.

The predominant colors were different, it’s true – shades of green in Denali and shades of brown in the desert. But the landscapes were surprisingly similar.

North meets South in flowers
That’s why they look so similar.

In fact, there were far more similarities than there were differences. North meets South, sharing many of the same attributes. When I first applied for a job in Death Valley, an Alaskan friend told me that I’d find it more like home than anywhere else in the lower 48. He was right.

Panamint Valley
The landscapes aren’t all that different.

Immense, open panoramas abound in both.  The vastness cannot be described, it needs to be experienced. They are landscapes that make you aware of your own insignificance. Death Valley is the largest park in the contiguous United States. Denali is even bigger.  In most places, these landscapes seem endless because there are few to no trees. When I worked in Denali, I lived at the Toklat Road Camp, 50 miles into the park. I was surrounded by alpine tundra, not trees.

Denali National Park
They’re both vast.

There are parallels in many of the geological features.  Both contain rugged mountain ranges divided by wide valleys. Alluvial fans and glacial outwash plains look surprisingly similar. The raw, naked geology is exciting. The stories that the rocks tell are so much easier to understand in barren landscapes like these.

North Meets South
A nameless canyon in the Black Mountains

One aspect that delights me is that both parks are filled with countless nameless canyons to explore. These landscapes invite you to wander.

North Meets South
A nameless canyon on Polychrome Mountain

Sometimes you find similar treasures as you explore these canyons. Did these horns come from Death Valley or Denali?

Dall's Sheep horns Denali National Park
Denali or Death Valley?

One way North meets South is through the commonalities of their wildflowers. Both Denali and Death Valley can have phenomenal flower seasons. And plants in both parks use similar adaptations to survive in their harsh environments.

rare penstemon found on Lee's Flat
Both parks host an incredible variety of wildflower species.

Both Denali and Death Valley pose extremely difficult challenges for the plants and animals that live there. Although one place is scorching hot and the other bitterly cold, they share an element that amplifies the effects of both extremes – wind.

Common Lousewort
They’re not all belly flowers!

In both places, the growing season is short but intense. In both, you’ll also find that a lot of flowers grow low to the ground.  Belly flowers. They often grow closely in mounds or in mats covering the ground, working together to avoid the drying effects of the relentless wind.

Purple Mat
Growing low to the ground in a mound can protect the flowers from wind and conserve water.

Many plants in both places are covered with fine hairs, which keep Denali’s flowers a little warmer and protect Death Valley’s from the harsh sun.

Denali or Death Valley?

The biggest draw for me personally is that both Denali and Death Valley are incredibly wild, something I’m aching for on tame, benevolent Orcas Island this winter. There is something about the harshness of those landscapes that speaks to my soul. And of course, they’re also both awe-inspiringly beautiful.

Denali National Park
Denali National Park

Thank you, Amy, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, East Meets West (or North Meets South).

Death Valley National Park
Death Valley National Park

It’s A Small World – Belly Flowers

Forget-Me-Nots

Some of my favorite wildflowers are the belly flowers, blooms so small and low to the ground you need to get down on your belly to really check them out. These treasures grow in two of my favorite habitats, the desert and alpine tundra.

Belly flowers
Blackish Oxytrope

I mentioned in my Then and Now post last month that these two habitats, although vastly different, share lots of astonishing similarities.  When Anne Sandler of Slow Shutter Speed chose “It’s a Small World” as the theme for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to expound on one of those similarities, belly flowers.

Belly flowers
Desert Mohavia

The tundra can be incredibly cold and the desert unbelievably hot, but one challenge common to both is the wind – harsh, desiccating winds that will suck the life out of most plants. Laying low is a good strategy for plants that live in these extreme environments.

Death Valley National Park
Desert Star

Laying low is a great strategy, (and one that I can relate to during this crazy winter!) but it’s not always enough. There are other strategies that many of these plants share, too. For instance, most belly flowers hold onto moisture and prevent harm from damaging UV rays by wearing a sweater. In both the desert and the mountains, many belly flowers have fuzzy leaves or even furry flowers. These hairs not only protect them from too much sun, they also help hold in moisture so it doesn’t evaporate as quickly.

Round leaf Willow
Many belly flowers have fuzzy leaves or furry flowers.

Have you ever crowded together with your friends on a cold, blustery day to stay warm? Some plants grow in cushions or mounds for the same reason. Low, rounded cushions do not leave much surface area exposed to the elements. They retain water, soaking it in instead of letting it all run off.  They also catch dust and dirt blowing in the wind and anchor it in place. Since both habitats have thin, poor, rocky soils, capturing and anchoring the minerals and nutrients blowing by is an excellent survival strategy.  Moss campion is the best-known alpine cushion flower. My favorite desert cushion is Turtleback.

Death Valley National Park
Turtleback

Turtlebacks were named after their resemblance to a turtle shell, but those convoluted, gray-green leaves also look a lot like a certain important body part. On one of my favorite hikes as a ranger, I was leading a small group up a nameless, nondescript wash in Death Valley. I was walking with an older, slower visitor and let some of the other visitors take the lead. Around a bend in the canyon, I found a little girl and her father crouched down, intently studying something on the ground in front of them. “What did you find?”, I asked. The little girl looked up, face filled with wonder, and said, “We found a brain flower!”

Turtleback
Brain Flower

Survival strategies are good, but worthless if you can’t pass them on to the next generation. Reproduction strategies are important, too. For some belly flowers, it’s a numbers game. If there are lots and lots and lots of flowers, the odds are that some will survive long enough for their seeds to mature. It may be easy to overlook one or two tiny flowers, but if you have thousands upon thousands of them, the blooms will literally carpet hillsides and paint the entire landscape with their pastel colors.

Denali National Park
Alpine Azalea carpets acres of tundra

Other flowers are more flamboyant, sure to be noticed by pollinators because of both their size and bright colors. The plant lays low, diminutive and nondescript until it’s showtime. Then it’s hard to believe such a teeny tiny plant could produce such a big, showy flower.

Denali National Park
Kittentails are flashy flowers.

Many flowers use yet another reproduction strategy, one that is a great reason to get down on your belly and up close and personal. Attract those pollinators with your irresistible perfume!  Rock Jasmine, an alpine flower – well, the name says it all. Desert Sand Verbena is another one. It has the loveliest fragrance of any flower in the desert.

Death Valley National Park
Desert Sand Verbena

I have a little game for you to play. With so many strategies in common, it could be hard to tell a desert belly flower from an alpine one. Check out the following five flowers. Can you tell which ones are desert flowers and which ones grow in the Alaskan tundra? Leave your thoughts in the comments. I’ll put the answers there in a few days, and also let you know in next week’s post.

Denali National Park
Is this a desert wildflower?
Purple Mat
Or a mountain flower?
Death Valley National Park
Which one is it?
Spring Beauty
Can you tell?
Bigelow Mimulus
Guess!

By the way, it IS a small world. During these difficult times, it’s good for the soul to practice gratitude and express thanks for the little things in life. It helps make dealing with the big things a little easier. Thanks for reading my posts! Until next time, Happy Trails!

Big is Beautiful

Mt. Blackburn, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska

I’ve just discovered the WordPress Lens Artist Photo Challenge. Tina Schell, whose blog is called Travels and Trifles, came up with this week’s theme, “Big is Beautiful”.

How appropriate that I found it this week, I can’t help but think, as big is beautiful has defined my life in many ways.

For one thing, I’m a big girl. I keep telling myself big is beautiful, but I don’t always believe it.

More importantly though, big is beautiful has defined my life geographically, as a rambling ranger, for many years. After all, I live in Alaska, the biggest state in the Union.

Thorofare Pass, Denali National Park
Maybe vast is a better word than big to define Alaska.

I even worked for a few years in Denali National Park, home to the biggest mountain in North America.

North face of Denali, Denali National Park
Denali

I live in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, the biggest national park in the U.S. by far. It’s the size of Switzerland with Yellowstone and Yosemite thrown in.

Bonanza Ridge, Wrangell St. Elias National park
Hiking in the Wrangells

My favorite geologic feature in this fabulous park is the Stairway Icefall, one of the tallest icefalls in North America, if not the world. It rises 7,000 feet in under 2 miles.

Stairway Icefall, Wrangell St. Elias National Park
The view of Stairway Icefall from my front yard – I’m a lucky girl.

I work in the “ghost town” of Kennecott. The Kennecott Mill just may be the tallest wooden building in North America. It’s big.

Kennecott National Historic Landmark
The Kennecott Mill, is a big, TALL building

I spent 8 winters as a ranger in Death Valley National Park. At 3.2 million acres, it is the largest national park in the contiguous United States.

Black Mountains, Death Valley National Park
Don’t let the name scare you, Death Valley is big and beautiful. Just don’t go in the summer!

Currently I’m spending time in the Pacific Northwest, home to big trees.

Hoh Rain Forest, Olympic National Park
Old Growth Maple

The place where I’m staying is only a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean, the biggest of them all!

Klaloch Beach, Olympic National Park
Pacific Ocean Sunset

Live Large! Go Big!