Erosion Made My Favorite Places

Erosion Made My Favorite Places: Bluff of Little Flat Top Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer
Bluff of Little Flat Top
Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer

Muddy Creek Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer Muddy Creek
Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer

North Fork Pleasant Creek Terracing Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer North Fork Pleasant Creek Terracing
Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer

Blackburn Draw Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer Blackburn Draw
Courtesy and Copyright Shannon Rhodes, photographer

Brendan Wenzel says the inspiration for his picture book “A Stone Sat Still” was a familiar boulder nestled in a tidal inlet near his family’s home. This stone was a dining place, a perch, a tool, and a landmark, but dependably there day after day, year after year. When I shared this book as a writing workshop launch with fellow educators, it drew recollections of sandboxes, rock collections, garden pavers, mantle stones, stacked-stone cairns keeping us on the right trail, and deeper connections to fathers. I wrote about how stones definitely don’t sit still when I am around. When my father would take us fishing, my brothers and I would most likely be skipping every flat rock we could find across the lake’s surface instead of manning our poles. Even now I can’t resist rolling a moqui marble down desert slickrock or plucking up a river rock to chase scurrying stonefly larva beneath.

Dr. Eric Newell, director of experiential learning at Edith Bowen Laboratory School and summertime river rafting guide, wrote about the secrets stones hold for him: “I like to pick up rounded river rocks, turn them gently in my fingertips, feel the smooth contours, and wonder where they journeyed from to this resting place—how long did it take for the eons to shape and polish them? And what would rivers be without stones?—the meticulous ways the currents stack and sort boulders to sand grains by size, coming to understand that every wave on the surface of the river is created by stones beneath—and the metaphor that provides for seeing and understanding children, adults, and even myself.”

Mountains, boulders, stones, cobbles, gravels, pebbles, sand grains, silt, mud. If the water is muddy or the wind is dusty, we know erosion is happening. It forms valleys, smooths jagged rocks, and carves unexpected slot canyons in the desert. It also causes black blizzards and landslides. According to Mark Milligan of the Utah Geologic Survey, the early decades of the 1900s saw the Civilian Conservation Corps setting to work not only building canals and roads, but contour terracing to stall mountainside erosion here in Utah. There is a sign on Skyline Drive in the Manti-LaSal National Forest that reminds us that those CCC boys were digging horizontal trenches above our cities well into the 1950s.

Many people equate erosion with the destructive forces that wear down earth. Yet, in her book titled “Erosion,” Terry Tempest Williams pairs eroding with evolving. She wrote, “Water freezes and shatters stone; rocks fall from the force of gravity; new rapids appear in rivers. Storms gather and floods roar through dry washes, cutting and scouring a wider channel…” We have water, ice, wind, and time to thank for the erosion that created Natural Bridges and Arches, Coral Pink Sand Dunes and Goblin Valley, and Muddy Creek and Blackburn Draw.

I’m Shannon Rhodes, and I’m wild about erosion’s role in shaping Utah.

Credits:

Images: Courtesy & Copyright © Shannon Rhodes, Photographer
Audio: Courtesy & © Friend Weller, https://upr.org/
Text:     Shannon Rhodes, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University https://edithbowen.usu.edu/
Additional Reading Links: Courtesy Shannon Rhodes

Additional Reading:

Atwood, Genevieve. Geology of Utah. https://www.uen.org/utah_history_encyclopedia/g/GEOLOGY.shtml

Manti-LaSal National Forest Visitor Guide. https://www.fs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/stelprdb5370798.pdf

Milligan, Mark. What Are Those Lines on the Mountain? From Bread Lines to Erosion-Control Lines. Utah Geologic Survey Notes, v. 42 no. 1, January 2010. https://geology.utah.gov/map-pub/survey-notes/glad-you-asked/erosion-control-lines-on-the-mountains/

Olsen, Beth. Utah’s CCCs: The Conservators’ Medium for Young Men, Nature, Economy, and Freedom. Utah Historical Quarterly, Volume 62, Number 3, 1994 by Utah State History. https://issuu.com/utah10/docs/uhq_volume62_1994_number3/s/163708

Oskin, Becky. Mars on Earth: How Utah’s Fantastical Moqui Marbles Formed. 2014. https://www.livescience.com/47936-how-moqui-marbles-form.html


Wenzel, Brendan. A Stone Sat Still. 2019. San Francisco, CA: Chronicle Books. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P11LB4A-pjI

Williams, Terry Tempest. Erosion: Essays of Undoing. 2019. New York, NY: Sarah Crichton Books. https://www.amazon.com/Erosion-Undoing-Terry-Tempest-Williams/dp/0374280061

Wise Old Coots

Wise Old Coot: Coot walking on ice Courtesy Pixabay, Mabel Amber, Photographer
Coot walking on ice
Courtesy Pixabay, Mabel Amber, Photographer
There’s a wise old coot who calls me up this time of year to plan to go bird spotting. I call him a coot, not because he’s crazy, though he is a bit, but because when you’re out on the marsh and if you’re a duck, who do you flock to for company? It’s not the swans or geese, that’s for sure. Too showy their lot, think they know it all. Those who know what’s actually good for them raft up with the coots. They’ve got the best parties after all.

But regardless, we’ll call this old coot ‘Val’, just a name picked out of a hat. I always look forward to these calls. “Patrick me boy, let’s go accurately count all the starlings at the hog farm!” he’ll declare. That’s code for, “let’s guess at starlings, but really look for great horned owls with thermoses full of cocoa with a kick, and engage in some not exactly trespassing but ‘once we did get shot at here’ while looking for birds down by the river.”

I like going bird spotting because it’s not exactly birding and not exactly bird watching. Sure, we’re watching out for birds, but it’s more formal than a waterfowler’s gaze, though just slightly. Our goal on these solstice forays are to identify and count the birds. For science of course. It’s also not the hyperformal birding because we ramble around in our coot raft, and while the birds are important, the cocoa is strong and that always makes determining the little tweeties a small riot, and we’re not that quiet. We’re more fun than birders.

The last time we went out, we divvied up responsibilities. There was a small army of us spotters. There was ‘Val’, myself, and three others. ‘Val’ drove one truck, and another spotter the other. The rest of us clambered for the heating inside and were supposed to yell, “STOP!” at any dark fleck we saw in the sky as we drove through the country.

All but myself I’d call expert birders, and so I felt very fortunate that I could drag them into the murkiness of bird spotting. I was calling out STOP at everything I saw so that we could identify it, while with naked eyes and not a book in sight the rest could glance past and know exactly what it was and how many. Only later did I realize that it was they who were elevating me from birding to spotting themselves. It was they who cracked open the hot cocoa and laughter after all. When out of your depth, always raft with coots.

Now, as you may expect, our count was perfect that year. Another record for starlings, a ferruginous hawk seent, a few red taileds, and even a screech owl spotted against thick bark through thicker foliage through the concrete flurries of snow, all without feeling in ear, boot, or mitt. It’s good that your eyes can work even when the rest doesn’t.

What I learned, though, besides what a ferruginous hawk is, wasn’t so much about birds. It was that it’s great fun to drive around in old trucks with coots looking for birds you don’t know exist. There are the serious benefits, like hearing the sage wisdom of elders, understanding a tradition that’s gone on longer than you’ve been born, and sharing cocoa. There are also the benefits of knowing a coot, which is no less serious, but would hate to be called serious. The ability to accurately count European starlings with laughter, learning what is in that cocoa, and getting a call about this time every year in a well-practiced Irish accent that rings, “Patrick my boy, let’s go count starlings at the hog farm.”

So if you’re out there ‘Val’, give me a call. I know last year was a bust, but this year, we’ve got the jabs. And definitely still bring your cocoa, but I’ll bring some backup, too. Also I’ll need to borrow some binoculars.

I’m Patrick Kelly, and I’m Wild About Utah.
 
Credits:
Images: Courtesy Pixabay, MabelAmber, Photographer https://pixabay.com/photos/coot-water-bird-animal-walking-ice-4026019/
Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections
Text:    Patrick Kelly, Director of Education, Stokes Nature Center, https://www.logannature.org
Included Links: Patrick Kelly & Lyle Bingham, Webmaster, WildAboutUtah.org

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah, Posts by Patrick Kelly

Stokes Nature Center in Logan Canyon, https://www.logannature.org/

122nd National Christmas Bird Count, 62nd Cache Valley(Logan) Christmas Bird Count, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/our-projects/cache-valley-christmas-bird-count/

Antelope Island Bison

Bison Bull on Antelope Island Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer
Bison Bull on Antelope Island
Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer

Cowboys Staging for the Antelope Island Bison Roundup Oct 30, 2021 Courtesy & © Mary Heers, PhotographerCowboys Staging for the Antelope Island Bison Roundup Oct 30, 2021 Courtesy & © Mary Heers, PhotographerCowboys Staging for the Antelope Island Bison Roundup Oct 30, 2021 Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer Cowboys Staging for the Antelope Island Bison Roundup Oct 30, 2021
Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer

Bison Pair Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer Bison Pair
Courtesy & © Mary Heers, Photographer

The sun was just coming up when I drove onto Antelope Island State Park on Oct 30 Bison were grazing on both sides of the road, and I had to stop a few times and wait as they lumbered across the road. But by the time I reached the Garr Ranch on the southern end of the island, I felt I had driven onto the set of a Hollywood western. 250 volunteer cowboys were saddled up on their horses and were getting their final instructions. At 8 am they spread out in a long line and began their slow walk north. Ahead of them the bison began to move. This was the day of the annual bison round-up. By the end of the day, the more than 500 bison on the island were milling about in the sturdy corrals in the northern part of the island.

After giving the bison a day to catch their breath, the park managers started to move the bison through the corrals until, one by one, they stepped on the scales. The young calves born that spring weighed in at about 400 lbs and the old bulls topped the scales at over 2000. The next step was into the restraining chute. It was time to get vaccinated and have a quick medical checkup.

Over the clanging and banging of the solid metal pens, I could occasionally hear the vet cry, “Pregnant!” This seemed to be the magic password, as the front gates of the chute would fly open and the heifer would dash off into a pen that would return her back into the island. The others needed to wait.

This whole story began in 1873 when 12 privately owned bison were sold to the owners of Antelope Island. These twelve thrived in this harsh environment. They grew shaggy warm winter coats and plowed the deepest snow drifts, swinging their massive heads back and forth, down to the grass below. A bison will eat 40 pounds of grass a day. Antelope Island is only 15 miles long and 5 miles wide There is just enough grass to support a herd of 500. Since there are no wolves or natural predators on the island, the park managers will need to sell the excess numbers at an online auction.

In the 1500’s, an estimated 50 million bison roamed the Great Plains. The Native Americans revered them and harvested them mindfully. They found a use for every bison part – including the stomach, which proved a reliable water jug. But the western expansion of white settlers led to the deliberate slaughter of the bison. By the end of the 19th c, only 300 bison were left in the wild.

The chief taxidermist at the Smithsonian National Museum, William Hornaday, spend two summer in remote corners of Montana harvesting and old bull, a calf, and 4 young bison. He brought the hides back to Washington and built a display that he believed would be the only chance for future generations to see this vanishing species.

In Yellowstone National Park, 2 army men patrolling the park on cross country skis witnessed a poacher shoot a bison. The poacher had put down his rifle and was busy severing the trophy head. The two soldiers quietly skied up close enough to apprehend him with their revolver. Still the park’s bison herd dwindled to 23 -until 1902 when he army purchased 21 more from private owners.

The Yellowstone herd now numbers over 5,000.

Today, between parks, private herds, and tribal lands the bison now number half a million.

Bison have come roaring back from the very edge of extinction.

This is Mary Heers and I’m wild about Utah.

Credits:
Photos: Courtesy & Copyright © Mary Heers
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio upr.org
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’ Wild About Utah Postings

US FWS Bison Images: https://digitalmedia.fws.gov/digital/collection/natdiglib/search/searchterm/bison

Clifton, Jameson, Get Involved With Plans To Manage Yellowstone National Park’s Bison, Wild About Utah, June 1, 2015, https://wildaboututah.org/get-involved-with-plans-to-manage-yellowstone-national-parks-bison/

Boling, Josh, The Henry Mountains’ Bison Herd, Wild About Utah, January 14, 2019, https://wildaboututah.org/the-henry-mountains-bison-herd/

2021 Bison Roundup, Antelope Island State Park, Utah Department of Natural Resources, Oct 30, 2021, https://stateparks.utah.gov/parks/antelope-island/bison-roundup/

Cabrero, Alex, Annual bison roundup held at Antelope Island State Park, KSL TV, October 30, 2021, https://ksltv.com/475592/annual-bison-roundup-held-at-antelope-island-state-park/

Cox, Erin, Hundreds of volunteers gather to participate in annual bison roundup at Antelope island, Fox 13, Scripps Local Media, https://www.fox13now.com/news/local-news/hundreds-of-volunteers-gather-to-participate-in-annual-bison-roundup-at-antelope-island

Wild Turkeys

Wild Turkeys: Wild Turkey Tom Courtesy Pixabay, Biggles55 Contributor & Photographer
Wild Turkey Tom
Courtesy Pixabay
Biggles55 Contributor & Photographer
It’s turkey time, and time to give thanks for this great bird! There is much to learn beyond stuffing them full of stuffing. In my younger years when hunting was a major part of our Michigan culture, I was forewarned that the wile wild turkey was a formidable opponent for the small game hunter.

I’ve had many turkey encounters beyond eating their deliciousness. Our little town of Smithfield was held at bay by four huge Toms who terrorized a neighborhood with their testosterone-fueled aggressiveness. This followed by two toms in Logan who gave merry chase to police officers that attempted to coral them as they were attractive nuisances at the Main and Center intersection. One unfortunately took refuge in a butcher’s shop. In the wild, I was surprised to find large flocks roosting in trees reminding me of passenger pigeon stories when their massive, collective weight could break limbs. On a Christmas bird count, I witnessed a near 200 yard line of single file turkeys traipsing through deep snow, like a herd of bison plowing through prairie drifts.

Wild Turkeys: Rio Grande Turkey Tom, Meleagris gallopavo, Courtesy US FWS, Robert H. Burton, Photographer, images.fws.gov
Rio Grande Turkey Tom
Meleagris gallopavo
Courtesy US FWS
Robert H. Burton, Photographer
https://images.fws.gov
Anyone who has the opportunity to meet these animals will tell you that they are highly intelligent birds full of playful and unique personalities. They are incredibly curious and inquisitive and enjoy exploring their surroundings. Turkeys are very social including human companionship. Researchers have found that when a turkey is removed from its rafter (flock that is), they will squawk in obvious protest until reunited. Turkeys have a refined “language” of yelps and cackles, with more than 20 unique vocalizations. They mourn the death of a flock member and so acutely anticipate pain that domestic breeds have had heart attacks after watching their feathered mates take that fatal step towards Thanksgiving dinner.

A bit more turkey trivia. The area of bare skin on a turkey’s throat and head vary in color depending on its level of excitement and stress. When excited, a male turkey’s head turns blue, when ready to fight it turns red. The long fleshy object over a male’s beak is called a snood. Wild turkeys can also fly 55 miles an hour and run 18 miles an hour.

The turkey was sacred in ancient Mexican cultures. The Mayans, Aztecs and Toltecs referred to the turkey as the ‘Great Xolotl’, viewing them as ‘jewelled birds’. From ceremony and food to clothing and companionship, their winged friends have always held significance in their lives. In the ancient Southwest, as elsewhere, human-avian relationships had important social, ritual, economic, and political dimensions.

Wild Turkeys were nearly hunted to extinction in large parts of North America with only 1,900 known to remain in the 1930’s. When European settlers arrived in Utah, none remained. Merriam’s wild turkeys from Colorado were reintroduced into S. Utah in the 1950’s from Colorado, creating an established population that has spread into several parts of Utah. In 1989, a second subspecies- the Rio Grande turkey, was successfully established in Utah’s Washington County. So as you give thanks before partaking in the TG feast, please include the turkey in your many blessings.

Jack Green for the Bridgerland Audubon Society, and I’m thankful for Utah and its wild turkeys.


Wild Turkeys at the mouth of Smithfield Canyon, across from Mack Park, Nov 22, 2009, Courtesy & © Lyle Bingham

Credits:
Picture: Courtesy US FWS, Robert H Burton, Photographer
Audio: Courtesy & © Vince Guaraldi
Text: Jack Greene, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/
Additional Reading: Lyle W Bingham, Webmaster, and Jack Greene, Author, Bridgerland Audubon, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading:

Jack Greene’s Postings on Wild About Utah, https://wildaboututah.org/author/jack/


Zion National Park, Utah – Wild Turkey Mating Dance, “pkerikno” Photographer ‘Eric Def Films, Grandpa Pete Studio Production…’

Bingham, Lyle, Read by Linda Kervin, Wild Turkeys – Recently Moved to Utah, Wild About Utah, November 19, 2009, https://wildaboututah.org/wild-turkeys-recently-moved-to-utah/

National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF), https://www.nwtf.org/
Look up the 12 Utah NWFT chapters
https://www.nwtf.org/chapters/cache-valley-strutters
https://www.utnwtf.org/

Wild Turkey, Meleagris gallopavo, Guide to North American Birds, National Audubon, https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/wild-turkey

Wild Turkey, Meleagris gallopavo, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Wild_Turkey/overview

Rio Grande and Merriam’s wild turkey use areas in Utah, USA, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Conservation Biology Institute, Feb 7, 2011 (Last modified May 13, 2011), https://databasin.org/datasets/8d2b2f9d01544c689f729d3ed0cf270d/