Church-going

Love hurts.

Photos from spending a day at the nearby church property, hazing condors off the building.

Burrowing Owls!!!!!!!!

We have new interns! I met new intern Ryan yesterday evening, and we promptly got lost trying to find one of the feeding sites Ryan had just seen the week before, and I was SO sure I had seen before. However, there was no moon, and no lights, and no pile of rocks to mark the path. Oh wait. After nearly an hour and a half of searching blindly in the dark with the weak lights of our headlamps, and some vague directions from our respective supervisors, we finally stumbled upon a well-hidden rock cairn, and at last we were at the feeding site. It was pretty foolish. 

Today, Ryan and I went on a dairy run and got a pretty good haul, considering the last time I went we ended up with 2 calves. 

And, we saw burrowing owls!

Like little men. 

Family Day at Hopper

Today my family came to tour Hopper! My mom in particular couldn't have been more excited to see a condor in person -- being herself a vulture enthusiast. We watched a nest entry in progress, then drove down to the ranch house for a quick lunch. I was disappointed to think that we wouldn't see Ferdinand before we had to drive back up when Blake radioed me to let me know that the bison was down on the road to the flight pen. As it turned out, we got a front-row seat as Ferdinand plodded past the SUV, snorting heavily.

Looking forward to the weekend. We're seeing the final Harry Potter tonight--END OF AN ERA.

Mountain Quail (Oreotyx pictus)

Sunset at Hopper, the glowing rig looking like a rocket launch. 

Peek-a-boo!

Giant wolf spider (Hogna carolinensis)

I found this guy on the road near the feeding site. He was crouched low down in a hole in the ground, but I was able to lure him out with a long stalk of grass. We played this game of spider peek-a-boo for quite a while, actually. And yes, I did talk to it the way you would a dog, why do you ask?

California Whiptail lizard (Aspidoscelis tigris munda)

Caught Red-Handed

I was supposed to be trapping a stealth bird today, but the fog was so thick I couldn't even see the half-calf I'd chained outside the trap to entice the birds in.

Instead I ended up playing with this little lizard who was chilling on the floor of the blind.

We got pretty friendly.

Unfortunately, no birds were trapped today.

Black-headed snake (Tantilla planiceps)

There's A Snake in My House!

So today, I'd returned from nest obs with a hankering for some deliciously refreshing iced tea. I walked into the mudroom where the refrigerators live, and reached in mine for the jug. When I closed the door, the refrigerator started making a weird noise--loud, like hissing. Like an aggressive wind blowing through dry reeds. Oh no. That was no refrigerator. I'd heard that noise before. Right before I almost stepped on a ready-to-strike rattlesnake. I spun quickly, looking for the source of the sound. And there it was, backed into the corner of the room, just behind the coat rack. Not the biggest rattlesnake I've ever seen, just the first I've ever found in the house. But hey, at least he warned me.

Molly -- who'd joined me after my startled exclamation of "Oh! So uh there's a rattlesnake in here"-- and I left the front door open for him and went back to the living room to fill out data sheets. Ten minutes later when we went back to check on the snake, it was gone. Presumably outside. We hope. Nevertheless, when Kim returned from obs later, I told her to watch her toes.

Bugs

AM Obs at SP11

Mom taking a nap while lil' chick looks on.

This creepy tiki balloon was tangled in a tree on the way to South Potrero. A little startling to come across in the still-dark dawn. You can see Dad in the distance. 

Wanted

A whiteboard masterpiece by Molly, nest tech. 

I found this little Western fence lizard perched on a coil of fire hose left out from our Fire Training last week. I love the resonance of their shapes and textures--an unlikely pair.

111

Perched high in a snag

I think this snag looks like a giant centipede

111 perched on the head of the centipede snag

Warning: The following description is not for the faint of heart or stomach

As nearly everyone began to head out the door and back down to Ventura, it was deduced that due to some bad timing and forgetfulness, *somebody* had left a frozen calf in the thaw box last week. Last week as in seven, 90+ degree days ago. Geoff: "Devon, you and Angela can deal with it later. You guys will have the truck." Thanks Geoff. Thanks a lot. And then they left. 

Devon and I wanted to get it over with quickly. We grabbed our carcass gloves and hopped in the (brand new) truck and drove down the road to the thaw box. Stepping out of the car, the sound of flies and the smell of rotting meat were like a smack in the face, and that from several feet away. As we got closer, we could see a dark liquid dripping from underneath the closed door of the wooden box. Oh. Lovely. A lot of faces were made. Devon and I went to either side of the box to each undo one of the bolts and then let the door drop. I tried to breathe through my mouth but forgot and in one instant smelled the worst smell I've ever smelled. Once, on a trip to the Huntington Library and Gardens, I saw a flower they had on special exhibit there known as a "corpse flower"--named for its distinct odor: that of rotting flesh. And I remember thinking at the time that how would I know what it did or did not smell like, having never smelled a rotting corpse. 

Corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum)

Well, now I am all too familiar with said smell. There was a fleeting instant in which I could feel my lunch attempting a jailbreak but I tamped it down. Breathed through my mouth. Barely breathed at all. The visual was not much prettier than the stench: a furry lump that was once a rabbit was half-submerged in the pool of viscous red-brown liquid toward the front of the box; a black plastic garbage bag containing a deflated mass practically floated toward the back. The liquid itself was roiling with maggots. There was no way we were getting this in the truck bed. It seemed a shame to drench the brand new truck in gut-churning viscera, and anyways, we didn't even have a lift gate. For the two of us to lift this mess--tall as the truck is, short as we are, and liquid as the calf was--would have meant for a much messier job than either Devon or I was prepared to handle. 

"Let's just toss the rabbit into the bushes," Devon suggested, and I agreed. We each grabbed a leg, and were walking over to the bushes when the skin slipped off and the rabbit fell. We both leapt out of the way like the thing was cursed. Or more to get out of the splash zone. That task accomplished, we debated what to do with the calf. Bury it? We gave shovels a try but it quickly became apparent that digging a hole would require far more time and effort than we were willing to devote. In the end, we dragged it off into the bushes, covered it with some dirt and long grass, and left it. That smell, however, stayed with me, lingering in my nostrils for the rest of the day, tinging everything I ate or drank with the faint smell of rotten meat. This is how it works: you eat before, not after dealing with the dead stuff. I learned that lesson the hard way on night one, when, after returning to the ranch house from a feeding site, everything I ate tasted a little like defrosted bear. 

I feel you, Ludo from the 80's movie masterpiece, "Labyrinth."

Fire!

Sorry, did I scare you? Hey, at least I didn't yell it in a crowded movie theater.

We got our Fire Training today, and to be perfectly honest, if anything I'm more terrified of fire than I was yesterday. Was that the point, firefighters? To make me feel as if no amount of preparation or supplies or strategy will ever make me ready to face a fire? If so, then you sirs succeeded. I was called on to demonstrate the use of the fire tents, which are essentially human-sized flame retardant shower caps that--in the worst case scenario--you climb into, flop down on the ground in, and then pray to a god you might not believe in while flames burn over and around you. I could barely hear anyone around me when I was inside, face pressed up against the grass, hoping that I hadn't left any gaps. It was pretend, and it was the stuff of nightmare.  Practicing with the hoses was pretty fun, although the first one we connected up and turned on sprang a number of leaks from where the mice had had a gnaw. Comforting.

Happy Fourth!

Tell me this doesn't immediately make you think of the opening scene of The Lion King.

Making faces

Today was the Fourth of July. Instead of baking pies, I spent the morning in the Bitter Creek blind, attempting to trap birds in need of trapping. We have fire training at Hopper tomorrow, so a little after noon I set off for the ranch house. When I got there, only Volunteer Vince was there. I guess everyone else had taken the holiday off. Vince and I prepared a meal of tacos, and drove up to Silver Tanks at dusk. We had a veritable feast of fireworks shows to choose from: Six Flags, Oxnard, Ventura, Thousand Oaks. All in all, we could see at least eight different shows, plus randoms from people's houses. It was pretty special.

Rattlesnake in the Road

This Branch Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us

Well, the good news is that we didn't lose any birds this week. I spent a whole day sick with worry, and the following day busy attempting to trap the birds who may or may not have ingested motor oil. Things are now, by comparison, a little quieter.