Falcons duel the sky

The Snake River Birds of Prey, in Idaho, were alive last week with ground squirrels and diving Prairie Falcons, Ravens and Red-Tailed Hawks. I hiking along the cliff edge, where hawks were riding the updrafts, and the Prairie Falcons were out in force. The Falcons seemed to fly just along the edge of the cliff, turning, banking and diving and racing back and forth. Lunging and plunging. Flying for the pure joy of it, it would seem.

The cliffs, of dark basalt, dropped precipitously 500 feet to the narrow winding Snake River. The Snake River Birds of prey support the densest population of ground squirrels ever recorded, and a high population of badgers. And a large concentration of falcons, which is no wonder.

The Piute ground squirrels, (Spermophilus mollis), were out and about, whistling, running and perching on their mounds keeping a sharp lookout for hawks and falcons. They were extremely alert and hard to approach and I was unable to get closer than about 50 yards, to any one of them. No wonder, with Prairie Falcons skulking about, that cruise at 45 miles per hour and can accelerate much beyond that, when closing on prey.

The Piute ground squirrels are a brownish color with short ears. They feed on a variety of plants and eat the stems, leaves, seeds and flowers, and will also feed on insects and carrion. They are marvelously adapted to desert life, and they hibernate in the heat of summer, deep in underground tunnels. They can only be spotted in the spring and fall. Their coloration makes them blend quite well into their surroundings. They are dig tunnels in the ground, with several entrances.

There were also Ravens, cruising on the updrafts, with their deep-black feathers, and I spotted them several times landing on rocky ledges, perhaps looking for a nesting place. The ravens paid no heed to the falcons, as they are no threat, to this large bird.

The wind was hard and cold and hoods and stocking caps were a necessity. Every time I decided to retreat back to the vehicle, another falcon would come swooping by and up came binoculars and camera's. After and hour we fled back to the truck, our own cozy burrow. We drove away, and silence returned to the high desert prairie, to the whistling of ground squirrels, and the screech of hawks, and the occasional joyous howls of coyotes.

Cross Bill's on the Sawtooth Range

On a recent ice fishing trip to the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, I encountered a flock of birds, that were feeding on salt on the pavement of the road. Or perhaps getting a sip of water from the melting ice. This was near the top of Banner Summit at nearly 7,000 feet in elevation. The birds turned out to be the Red Crossbill (Loxia curvirostra), which have a body length of about 6 inches and a wing span of 11 inches.

They feed primarily on conifer cones, of spruce, pine and fir, but also eat the buds from trees. The Red Crossbill pries seeds from the cones using its highly adapted thick curved bill that is uniquely crossed. The perfect multi-tool. There are apparently 9 discrete populations of the Red Crossbill, which may be different species, and each type differs slightly in their voice or song or the size of their bills. Each type feeds prefers to feed on a select type of conifer tree, and they often mingle with other types.

There were about 12 birds in the flock I was watching. This area of the Sawtooths is heavily forested with conifer trees, mostly lodgepole pine, with spruce and subalpine fir along the creek bottoms. The ice fishing was poor that day, but the views of the mountains were spectacular. I am amazed how the Crossbill's can survive at such high altitudes in the winter, but the pine cones, are found high in the tree canopy well above the snow, and the seeds are there for the taking. Especially for the Red Crossbill with the perfect set of cone cracking mandibles. It sounds like a much easier way to obtain a meal than drilling through 3 feet of ice to find some wily trout.

The whisteling squerel of the Rocky Mountains

Above: Photo Credit: Martin Pot
http://martybugs.net

The shrill whistling sound rings across the mountain meadow, as the lookout sounds the alarm. The colony scurries for cover. I am the intruder, in this hilly glade. The predator, hunter, pillager, raider. Or at least the burrowers of the earth think I am. The Columbian ground squirrel or as the Lewis and Clark Expedition called them, the “whisteling squerel”.

The Columbian ground squirrel (gopher) has kept me company, on many of my hikes, especially where there are meadows, along the forest edges. Often they can be seen sitting up on their hind legs, on top of the mounds that they construct during their excavations of the underground tunnels.

The ground squirrels keep up a constant chatter as they whistle throughout the day, and they keep a sharp eye out for hawks, fox and coyotes and other predators. The tone of the whistle sometimes changes, as the squirrels chitchat back and forth. If you sneak up on them they spook, and the whistle becomes real high pitched, almost a squeal, as they scurry down into the safety of their dens. Their burrow fortress.

The Columbian Ground Squirrel (Spermophilus columbianus) is found in the Rocky Mountains from central British Columbia and Alberta south to Idaho and eastern Oregon. They have a distinctive coloration, of brick red on its nose, neck and legs with the rest of the body a grayish brownish color . They are the largest ground squirrel found in the western United States with a body that is 10 to 12 inches in length. The tail itself is relatively large at 3 to 5 inches long and is quite bushy. They feed on grass, forbs, bulbs, seeds and fruit. Meriwether Lewis aptly describes the tail of the Columbian, in a journal entry of May 27^th, 1806: “ The hair of the tail tho' thickly inserted on every part rispects the two sides only. This gives it a flat appearance and a long ovol form. “

The first observation of the Columbian ground squirrel, other than by the native Americans, was by the Lewis and Clark expedition, on the Clearwater River of Idaho. In total Lewis and Clark made seven journal entries where they discussed the squirrel, and also preserved several skins and transported them back to St. Louis. On May 23^rd, 1806 William Clark writes in his journal: “Labiech also brought a whisteling squerel which he had killed on it's hole in the high plains. This squerel differs from those on the Missouri in their Colour, Size, food and the length of tal and from those found near the falls of the Columbia.”

The Columbian ground squirrels are very inquisitive and curious, yet cautious around people. The whistling is a comforting sound, that makes the meadow come alive, especially when you see the squirrels running back and forth and perched on mounds. The mountains wouldn't be the same without their song resonating across the glades.

A white wolf, a crown jewel, aerial gunners and a heap of trouble

The wolf, made a futile sprint for freedom, and the blood dripped from gunshot wounds, spattering the fresh snow. She was the alpha female of the Basin Butte wolf pack. She ran through the thick forest but the radio collar around her neck betrayed her every movement. The aircraft quickly closed in, and a hail of gunfire ended her life, near the edge of an alpine meadow.

In November of 2009, Wildlife Services (WS) killed seven wolves, of the well known Basin Butte Wolf Pack, because of wolf depredations on livestock. 10 wolves were identified for removal by the Idaho Fish and Game, but WS made the determination to remove 8. (Idaho Press Tribune, December 4th, 2009). There were an estimated 10-13 wolves in the pack. Wildlife managers used a helicopter and a fixed wing airplane to shoot the animals from the air but some of the pack escaped. Two pups were initially shot and killed. The initial wolf shootings were done near the town of Stanley, Idaho. When the gunfire erupted, many residents of Stanley had no idea what was happening and some rushed to locate their children to make sure they were out of harms way

The Basin Butte wolf pack roamed the Sawtooth National Recreation Area (SNRA), which encompasses 778,000 acres of federal lands. Within the boundary of the SNRA there are also 25,000 acres of widely scattered private lands, mostly found in narrow strips along the creek and river bottoms. The SNRA, is located in central Idaho, and is one of the crown jewels of the national system, with scenic mountain peaks and clear rushing rivers. There are an estimated 1,000 lakes and several rivers that have their headwaters within the SNRA, and a multitude of wildlife including elk, deer, black bear, wolverine, bighorn sheep, and wolves. There are even wild salmon, chinook and sockeye, that make the 800 mile trip from the Pacific Ocean. The SNRA is buffered by National Forest lands on all sides, and private land holdings are few and very far between.

The US Fish and Wildlife Services addressed the issue of chronic depredating wolves in their 1994 10j rule [at 50 CFR 17.84(i)(3)(vii)] with this specific language: "All chronic problem wolves will be removed from the wild. Significantly, this language did not specify that chronic depredating wolves “may” be removed from the wild, but that they “will” be removed from the wild. Removal of chronic depredating wolves had been required under the 10j rule since 1994. The WS had little choice but to follow the 10 j rule, however they basically targeted almost the entire Basin Butte Pack, instead of individual wolves that were involved in the depredations.

The elimination of most of the Basin Butte Wolf pack, was a mistake in many ways. This has created a public relations fiasco for the State of Idaho, where tourism is ranked number 1 in revenues, and is a 3.4 billion dollar industry, ahead of all other business's in the State, including agriculture. Public opinions do matter because even a minor decrease in visitation could have a serious impact on local economies. The wildlife of Idaho is a huge natural and economic asset to this State, and we should be promoting wild Idaho, instead of needlessly destroying this resource.

The State of Idaho wolf management program doesn't appear to have to comply with federal environmental and safety requirements, even though most of this operation took place on Forest Service lands within the boundaries of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area (SNRA).

The reaction to the killing of the Basin Butte wolves was swift. Even some groups that supported the delisting of the gray wolf, decided the State of Idaho had gone to far. The Wolf Recovery Foundation and the Western Watersheds Project filed lawsuit, on December 31st, 2009 against the Forest Service and Wildlife Services, over the killing of wolves in the SNRA. This lawsuit was the result of the control actions taken against the Basin Butte pack and the eradication of several other wolf packs that used to roam the SNRA. The lawsuit contends that the Forest Service and Wildlife Service violated the SNRA Organic Act, the Wilderness Act and other federal statutes in these wolf-related actions,

On Feb, 18th, 2010 the Western Watersheds Project and the Idaho Conservation League won a major victory in their efforts to protect Idaho's wolf populations. The court ruled that the 1972 act that established the SNRA gives wolves and other wildlife precedence over livestock, and requires that the Forest complete a National Environmental Protection Act (NEPA) analysis on grazing allotments. The impact of that ruling remains to be seen, but in the long run it should provide more protection for wolf populations.

The bottom line is that the removal of wolves from the SNRA is biologically, and economically a mistake. Ranchers that lose livestock to wolf depredation need to be reimbursed for those loses, which they are, for the most part. That system is not perfect, however grazing fees on federal lands are much lower than on private lands, which benefits livestock owners.

Tourism dominates the economy of Idaho especially in the mountainous regions and maintaining the wolf packs can increase visitation. Targeting entire wolf packs for elimination does not follow the established rules, and doesn't make any sense. Helicopter use in wilderness areas and the SNRA should also not be allowed, except in emergencies.

Gray Fog Under

Early January 2010; it was an extremely foggy day, and I felt restless, fidgety and wanted to get out of the house, escape into the foothills, bad weather or not. I loaded up my camera and put on cold weather gear and hiked up Cottonwood Creek. The fog seemed to get thicker as the sun slinked unseen above the horizon, leaving no telltale traces, covering everything in a soft white blanket. It was so thick that you couldn't even turn a shadow. The shroud seemed to magnify the sounds in the canyon, especially the rushing waters of Cottonwood Creek. It was the kind of day I didn't expect to see much bird or animal life.

The fog made the landscape appear much brighter, than it would have normally, like a gaggle of colors on a white canvas. The willows or water wallys stood out in reds and yellows and the rose hips on the wild rose shrubs looked like brilliant red fire brands showering from the sky. One small patch of bright red willows extended up slope, from under a stand of cottonwoods along the creek, looking like a wild fire that was ready to run up the ridge.

I spotted the old red-tailed hawk nest, biding time for spring occupants, and to my surprise sitting 15 feet above the nest was a large hawk with a whitish breast. I was startled by a sudden noise off to my right, as another hawk came winging over the low hill in low level fight, screaming his eerie, ghostly song, making a bee line for timeworn nest. The hawk-screech knifed through the bulky, thick air and the intruder landing a branch away, from the resting buteo. Finches, juncos and sparrows darted amongst the shrubs keeping low to the ground or hidden in the thick brush, perhaps aware that predators were out and about.

I continued my walk and within minutes a pack of coyotes erupted in song on the ridge above me, just out of sight behind curtains of fog. There must have been several canines and they yipped, barked, yelped, yodeled, yapped, squeaked, howled and wailed in a delightful chorus
of joyous tunes. I stopped and listened to them for some time half expecting to see the pack appear out of the fog, but the shindig soon ended.

Near the end of my hike the trail wedged up near a stand of black locust trees, where I spotted a great horned owl perched on a branch about 6 feet off the ground and just behind it was another owl, that was larger. The smaller bird may have been a yearling and perhaps the bigger one was a full sized adult. The owls were somewhat hidden in the branches and well camouflaged in their gray mottled feathers, with yellow piercing eyes that fixed on mine and their ear-tufts that made them appear quite catlike. The owls had a mystical, supernatural presence, sitting on their black locust thrones in the mist, not making a peep and keeping very still.

It was time to head back, and getting colder so I cinched my jacket up tighter around my neck. The day belonged to the owls, hawks, finches and sparrows, and besides a warm pellet stove waited at home.

Christmas Bird

I spotted a Hermit Thrush yesterday, enjoying his own Christmas tree. Bulbs and all. Wild rose hip decorations. I would be more accurate to say he spotted me first and his eyes locked on mine for 20 seconds or so, then he flew off into the dense brush up on the ridge. The Thrush was in a perfect Christmas pose but it was accidental. The Hermit Thrush normally feeds on insects but in the winter they add fruit to their diet. Perhaps the rose hips were a noon snack, which I so rudely interrupted.

Trekker of the Silver Sage

It was a great day for a hike in the Boise Foothills, and some of the fall colors were still hanging on, especially in the valley below. I took a picture of a Pin Oak, (Quercus palustris) which had been planted as an ornamental in front of some one's home, which was showing off its colors. The tree was a stout tree, about 40 feet tall, and many of the leaves were a robins breast-red color, blotted with a few yellows and light greens.

The foothills were in full winter dress, with only a few straggler cottonwoods in the creek bottoms, stubbornly hanging on to their yellow colors. The shade lines knifed deep into the canyons, with the December sun low on the winter horizon. The shady areas contrasted with the white snows and the green conifer trees on the far ridges. The dry bunch grasses dominated the hillsides, with scattered stands of bitterbrush and sage brush, and rabbit brush.

I hiked into what was the upper reaches of Freestone Creek, which reaches far into the foothills, knifing and gorging a snaky course to summit of the mountains. The hillsides were slick with mud in a few places and snow on the north slopes, which made for difficult footing.

The winter foothills grudgingly show colors, dominated by grays and browns. Granite-gray, atlantic-gray, tiger cat-gray, dust-gray, coyote-gray. Dirt-brown, soil-brown, wood-brown, dry-brown, sod-brown, dung-brown, adobe-brown. It may be dull looking but its full of life, if you know where to look, and it's excellent deer and elk wintering range. The bright colors will return in the spring, as dormant wildflowers and bunch grasses renew their growth.

Until then, I will wait patiently, through short arctic like winter days of Idaho, and keep my snow skis well tuned, and enjoy sluicing through deep powder-perfect snow!