Episode Archive - Page 24 of 220

August 26, 2024September 3, 2024

I Ate A Bug

Bugfest Poster, Utah Museum of Natural History (UMNH), Courtesy Mary Heers — Bugfest Poster
Utah Museum of Natural History (UMNH)
Photo Courtesy Mary Heers

UMNH I ate a BUG button
Courtesy Mary Heers

Never one to say no to an adventure, this month I found myself sitting in the front row at the Bug Bar at the Natural History Museum in Salt Lake. I was waiting for the Bug Bar to open and serve up some insects.

This was the first day of the museum’s annual Bug Festival, and the lobby was full of interesting displays and presenters. But the one that intrigued me the most was the one that suggested we should be bringing insects into our kitchens.

Soon Megan Bartley, an anthropologist and professional chef, walked onto the stage along with the museum director. She began by telling us North America and Europe were the only two places on earth where people did not routinely eat insects.

After all, she said, insects are high in protein, have no carbs, no fat and are gluten free. Furthermore, they can be raised with a lot less water than other foods, and do not create greenhouse gases.

With all this going for them, Megan was here to prove that insects can also be very tasty.

“Are you ready to chow down?” the museum director shouted.

“Yes,” we shouted back. There was no turning back now.

First up on the menu was Spicy Giant Water Bug Pasta. Small samples were handed out and I glanced cautiously into the paper cup. I recognized bowtie pasta, and a little cilantro, carrots and onions, No sign of a water bug. I ate my forkful, and it was delicious. Megan told us the water bugs had been ground up and hidden in the imported Thai chili paste. It was the water bugs that gave the pasta a bit of a musky flavor.

We moved on to Raspberry Ant Pastries. Here, the ants weren’t ground up, but more or less hidden in the raspberry jam. Megan told us it was the ants that gave the pastry its citrus kick.

Then it was time for the ‘Apple Slaw with Candied Crickets.’ The crickets had been toasted in melted butter, sprinkled with sugar and a pinch of salt, and then tossed into an apple and cabbage slaw. There was a slightly unnerving crunch when I bit into this sample, but I had to admit it too was delicious.

The final sample was Grasshopper Tacos. The dehydrated grasshoppers had been sauteed in olive oil with garlic, onions and chipotle peppers. They were served on a dollop of guacamole. A quick look and I could clearly see the grasshopper. But by then I was ready to go for it. It was predictably crunchy – and also delicious.

Megan had proved her point that eating insects could be very tasty. More importantly, she got us thinking that it was time to consider this sustainable source of protein that can help curb food insecurity in our rapidly growing world.

Megan wrapped up with a caution about eating the insects that live around our homes. There’s no telling what these insects have been eating. Better to stick with the ones farmed in controlled environments.

I whipped out my phone and ordered some black ants and some toasted crickets online.

Then I pinned on one of the museum’s “I Ate a Bug” buttons and proudly wore it home.

This is Mary Heers and I’m Wild About Utah

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio upr.org & Cook Laboratories https://folklife.si.edu/archives-and-resources/cook-labs-records
Text: Mary Heers, https://cca.usu.edu/files/awards/art-and-mary-heers-citation.pdf
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah, Mary Heers’ Postings

Natural History Museum of Utah, Rio Tinto Center, University of Utah, https://nhmu.utah.edu/

Bugfest, Natural History Museum of Utah, Rio Tinto Center, University of Utah, https://nhmu.utah.edu/programs/bugfest

Edible Insects, Entosense, Inc, https://www.edibleinsects.com/

August 19, 2024March 4, 2026

Mountain Meadows

Mountain meadows- where clouds of flowers can transport the human occupant to a state of nirvana, which enveloped my comrades and I on a recent hike in the Bear River Range of Northern Utah. I’ve experienced similar moments on many occasions from top to bottom of our meadowed state- Cedar Breaks National Monument, Mt. Timpanogos, Albion Basin in Little Cottonwood Canyon, Snow Basin, Uintah’s, Tony Grove – an endless list of bliss.

Wildflower Meadow below Brian's Head Peak, Courtesy USDA Forest Service, Cedar Breaks National Monument — Wildflower Meadow below Brian’s Head Peak
Courtesy USDA Forest Service, Cedar Breaks National Monument

Balsamorhiza macrophylla along Old Snowbasin Road.
Courtesy USDA Forest Service
Teresa Prendusi, Photographer

Wasatch penstemon (Penstemon cyananthus) and Nuttall’s linanthus (Linanthus nuttallii) in an Albion Basin meadow.
Courtesy USDA Forest Service
Teresa Prendusi, Photographer

Balsamorhiza macrophylla along Old Snowbasin Road. Courtesy USDA Forest Service, Teresa Prendusi, Photographer — Wildflower Meadow below Brian’s Head Peak
Courtesy USDA Forest Service, Cedar Breaks National Monument

Balsamorhiza macrophylla along Old Snowbasin Road.
Courtesy USDA Forest Service
Teresa Prendusi, Photographer

Wasatch penstemon (Penstemon cyananthus) and Nuttall’s linanthus (Linanthus nuttallii) in an Albion Basin meadow.
Courtesy USDA Forest Service
Teresa Prendusi, Photographer

Beyond the rapture and pure joy they provide, mountain meadows are critical ecosystems- biological hotspots. They are home to unique communities of plants that cannot survive under the forest canopy. Deer and elk depend on them for forage. Predatory birds, unimpeded by trees, use meadows for hunting grounds. And a diversity of butterflies, moths, and insects rely on meadow flowers for pollen and nectar. Meadows provide an important breeding ground for insects), a key food source for many birds, amphibians, and reptiles. Meadow plants also provide food and habitat for small mammals providing an important prey base for predators.

A healthy meadow has a diverse mosaic of habitats with wet meadow and riparian vegetation. Surface water flow from snowmelt spreads out across the meadow, allowing sediment deposition. A high ground water table that is fed from snowmelt percolates down allowing stream channels to flow later in the summer. By holding the water in the mountains, the risk of valley flooding is reduced significantly. Our water delivery systems are dependent on the role that meadows play in maintaining this flow.

The health of meadows can be degraded however, where activities interrupt or alter the natural flow and percolation of water within the meadow. Mountain meadows have a short growing season with relatively shallow soil and may be very sensitive to even small changes in water availability. An unhealthy meadow is one in which the natural storage of water is reduced, the groundwater table is lowered, wetland vegetation is replaced by xeric vegetation; stream channels are incised with increased sediment transport; and soils are compacted. Another threat results from forest encroachment due to climate change and mismanagement of fire and livestock grazing.

Other human-induced factors may include trampling, roads, non-native plants, altered fire regimes, air pollutants and altered precipitation (especially the timing and amount of snowmelt). Further, identifying roads and trails that intercept, divert, or disrupt natural surface and subsurface water flow allows meadow remediation to occur.

I’ve spent many hours recreating and working in meadows from the European Alps (alps meaning mountain meadow) to the Peruvian Andes, which has vastly heightened my appreciation for these mountain jewels. None have surpassed those in our Utah highlands for unadulterated splendor! So, consider adding a meadow visit to your calendar!

This is Jack Greene for Bridgerland Audubon Society, and I’m wild about wild Utah mountain meadows!

Credits:

Images: Courtesy US FWS, USDA Forest Service and US NPS. All photographers acknowledged with images
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections/kevin-colver and Anderson, Howe, Wakeman.
Text: Jack Greene, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/
Additional Reading Links: Jack Greene & Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading:

Wild About Utah Pieces by Jack Greene, https://wildaboututah.org/author/jack/

A few mountain meadows with campgrounds in Utah:
Wetlands in Utah, Utah Geologic Survey, Utah Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, https://geology.utah.gov/water/wetlands/wetlands-in-utah/

Christmas Meadows Campground, Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest, USDA Forest Service, US Department of the Interior, https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/uwcnf/recreation/recarea/?recid=9129
also Recreation.gov: https://www.recreation.gov/camping/campgrounds/232029

Big Meadows, Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest, USDA Forest Service, US Department of the Interior, https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/uwcnf/recreation/recarea/?recid=9045
also Recreation.gov: https://www.recreation.gov/camping/poi/247198

Ledgefork, Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest, USDA Forest Service, US Department of the Interior, https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/uwcnf/recarea/?recid=9416
also Recreation.gov: https://www.recreation.gov/camping/campgrounds/231939

August 12, 2024March 4, 2026

A Place for Growth

I was raised in Laramie, WY, which boasts many qualities making it a pleasant place to live. It’s got a safe hometown feel, cool summers, a relatively close proximity to Colorado’s front range, and access to outdoor recreation opportunities such as the geologically magnificent Vedauwoo. However, Gem City is extremely dry and windy, making gardening of any sort challenging. I say this not to bash on my Alma Mater, but to explain why, when I moved to Logan for graduate school I was captivated by the astonishing climate, notably its ability to support gardening!

It was August, 2018 when I first arrived to Logan in my ’98 Tacoma packed to the brim with what I’d need for this next stage of life, and of course my Black Lab, Josi. I vividly remember emerging from Logan Canyon to a view of Cache Valley and being stunned by the lush surroundings. Later that day I discovered an apricot tree in a grass strip next to my new residence; orange/yellow apricots littered the branches and smushed ones lined the sidewalk below. As I casually picked and gobbled a few of the delectable treats, I realized there was a possibly for growing fruit here that I had had little experience with thus far in my life.

Naturally, filled with excitement and intrigue about being able to grow produce, I went to the local Anderson’s Seed and Garden with my visiting sister and bought raspberry, blackberry, and grape starts; as well as a small peach, pear, nectarine, and cherry tree. By the end of that day and with dirt on about every square inch of our bodies, we stood back and admired the newly planted additions, not sure whether they were planted correctly or if they’d survive the first winter. Well, 6 years later and miraculously, all the plants are bearing fruit, despite the constant battle with aphids, over and under watering, and the local Mule Deer thinking the leafy foliage is as tasty as the fruit the trees will produce.

This all brings us to the best part, enjoying nature’s candy! There is a wonderful sense of delight when I pick a peach from my self-planted, backyard tree and bite into the juicy, sweet meat. So, if you are like I was and have no experience growing, well, anything, don’t let that stop you from going to your local nursery and giving it a try. It’s a great way to take advantage of the beautiful climate the great state of Utah offers!

If by chance you find yourself with more fruit than you can manage, make sure to contact USU’s Harvest Rescue program who may be able to salvage leftover fruit and make it accessible to others.

This is Dr. Joseph Kozlowski, and I am wild about Utah!

Credits:

Images: Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer, Used by Permission
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections/kevin-colver Friend Weller, UPR.org, and Anderson, Howe, Wakeman.
Text: Joseph Kozlowski, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University https://edithbowen.usu.edu/
Additional Reading Links: Joseph Kozlowski

Additional Reading:

Joseph (Joey) Kozlowski’s pieces on Wild About Utah: https://wildaboututah.org/author/joseph-kowlowski/

USU Harvest Rescue, Center for Community Engagement, Christensen Office of Social Action and Sustainability, Utah State University, https://www.usu.edu/social-action-sustainability/get-involved/cache-gleaning

Anderson Seed & Garden, https://andersonseedandgarden.com

August 5, 2024October 29, 2024

Freedom in a Land Called Utah…

Green River Meanders
Courtesy NASA, September 18, 2018
NASA Earth Observatory

I am sitting next to friends on top of the skeleton of an excavator from the 1950s at an abandoned uranium mining site. All around us are tamarisk chokes, redrock fortifications, and the bleached steel bones of Pittsburgh’s former glory. We descend off of what we imagine the remains of a great steel minotaur which used to rule this dead tributary, and head up the wash into a side canyon. Following old trails and roads, we find stone sculptures pitted and bored by wind, scorpions avoiding our misunderstood company, and the remains of camps left by those the scorpions take us for.

We scramble past ash mounds, graffitied rocks, and discarded tin cans to each find a perch on one of the many boulders which have in time broken and cascaded down from the high red cliffs above like magnificent apocalyptic rain. Each dwarfs what we think possible to exist surviving such a fall, yet it does and will continue to do so long after we have ceased. Our expectations cannot deny their reality.

I sit on one of these great cleaves, facing west, enjoying life as the last rays of the deadly August sun hits my cheeks. I close my eyes and hear three ravens. When I call, they call back. Their dialect is not like those back home, but we both understand and appreciate the good company. They call from on high, and I from on low. Together we fill the canyons around us with the joyful elixir of rendezvous comradery.

Those other humans with me begin to wander around, discovering where water once fell and may again, where the ancient deep sands have laid new claim to man’s tin and iron waste, seeking to bury it and create the world in its own granular image, and where hardy shades of greenery have used their roots like vices to cling first and drink second.

I stay upon my boulder. The ravens stay upon their wing. I dream of being nowhere but where I am.

There’s a place in Utah where the sun burns a bit hotter and the air smells like home. Down the Green River with her tangerine mornings lies Labyrinth Canyon and the lair of the steel minotaur. This Labyrinth, the river’s hand at Daedalus’s task, can also in the same make and destroy and make again. True to its name, the canyon allows all to meander into its fluid center, and gives opportunity for you to meander into your own if you’re willing to disconnect from what lies above the crests of those ancient concretized dunes, and see the world for what lies within a cradle older than time itself.

This wisened world, a world holding evidence of man’s potent messages in petroglyph, graffiti, and iron beast, holds an even greater message of hope found etched by the thumping course of the Green River. That message tells not of man’s stories looking back, but of the joy, warmth, honest decision, and echoes of time found in looking ahead.

By our freedom in this world we have license to hoot n’ holler like the wild animals we are into the amphitheaters given by the river’s mind. Let those without joy or heart file a noise complaint, for the river holds no objection. She responds back in our words, whispered to us with unbridled power by her own red and rough maw. Hearing me howl and the walls rebuttal, somewhere in the distance a beaver slaps its tail upon the water. The river calls back to him as well.

The world does not discriminate against those who choose to live within it and not simply upon it. It feels good to belong to such a place. It feels good to have such a place belong to no one, for who can be deserving of such creation but the riverine creator?

Lucky for us in Utah, our land still has more creation than not, even given the efforts of our minotaurs. Wherever you are right now, find a window. Look outside of it. There, just past where you’re looking, lies more of Utah to be found. Just past where you can see lies another labyrinth, another message of hope, another space to dream of being nowhere but where you are, where the sun burns a little hotter and the air smells like home. So go out and be free and wild as Utah makes all who live not just on it, but within. Find your freedom in the land that we call Utah.

My name is Patrick Kelly and I am Wild About Utah.

Credits:

Images: Image Courtesy NASA Earth Observatory, Public Domain
Audio: Contains audio Courtesy & Copyright Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio
Text: Patrick Kelly, Director of Education, Stokes Nature Center, https://logannature.org
Included Links: Lyle Bingham, Webmaster, WildAboutUtah.org

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Patrick Kelly: https://wildaboututah.org/author/patrick-kelly/

The Uranium Mines of Bowknot Bend, Green River Utah, AZ Backcountry Adventures, Ernie Parks, 2014 Trips, http://www.azbackcountryadventures.com/uran.htm