Almost to Gumboot Lake

June 13, 2011. I work in an office, but every once in awhile I get a perk to go outdoors with the field biologists, a business-related outing. On this day I was invited to a field meeting of amphibian biologists to learn about the research they are doing, talk about permits, and really to get away from the computer and get a breath of fresh mountain air. Gumboot Lake is in the Shasta-Trinity forest, just west of the town of Dunsmuir and southwest of Mount Shasta. From Mount Shasta City, the road to Lake Siskiyou becomes a forest road providing access to a string of mountain lakes, as it follows the canyon containing the south fork of the Sacramento River.

The plan was to camp at the Gumboot Lake campground and to try to catch some Cascades frogs. However, we were met with a very large snow pack just about a mile down the road and could drive no further. We set up a group camp just off the road to Cedar Lake, and pitched our tents near the rushing streams of snow melt feeding into the Sacramento River. My colleague Shawn cooked up some fresh-caught Humboldt fish and then we started popping open the beers around the large campfire. Biologists like beer.

Biologists also love to hike. The new plan was to hike up the snow pack the mile or less to the lake and see if we could spot frogs in the small patches of melted ice. I donned my hiking boots and gators and recalled my days on great gray owl crew in the Sierras when hiking a mile or more up steep banks of snow was just another day in the office. But that was six years, two cancers, and a four-year desk job ago. I, the out-of-shape, cube-dwelling permit coordinator, suddenly found myself gasping for breath at a snail's pace compared to the avid hikers, bikers, and field scientists. They were gone and out of sight before I could even count to ten, except for those who decided they ought to stay behind and make sure I was still moving. The leader of the team of scientists loaned me her hiking poles, and I trudged up the deep snow under the blazing high-altitude sun. Trudge, find shade, rest. Trudge, find shade, rest. My colleagues were more than patient.

I was always slow in the field. My owl crew partners would be several ridges ahead of me until I completely lost track of them and followed flag trails to meet up with them again. But this was just a bit more embarrassing. So much so, I almost forgot to realize where I was. On a snowbank, in an incredible beautiful forest, climbing a peak, in a place I had never been before. I was less than a 1/4 mile from the top when one of the researchers came down and said the lake was iced over and there were no frogs. So I turned back and didn't get the photo. I can't even say I was there. But I was almost there! Almost to the top.

Spectacular views down the slope and another night next to the rushing streams waited at the end of what seemed like a long and difficult trek to my now untrained body. When wandering from the camp, I did discover a bog of pitcher plants. I hadn't realized our cold, dry mountains in California contained bogs, let alone carnivorous plants. This time, I got the photo. As well as a pretty commanding view of Mount Shasta on the way out. The Goat brewpub in Mt. Shasta City served up gourmet burgers and tasty microbrews, which topped off the trip nicely.

Bats of Cosumnes River Preserve

Sunday, May 1, 2011. The Western Section of the Wildlife Society Sacramento-Shasta Chapter had its annual members-only barbecue at the Cosumnes River Preserve. The preserve is just south of Elk Grove and north of Stockton, California, with easy access off of Interstate 5. I usually go there for the birding--the paths through wetlands with a rich diversity of waterfowl and wading birds--and during the time of year when sandhill cranes migrate through and can be seen in large numbers, flying overhead, or settling into the adjacent rice fields. But on this day, I wasn't there for birding or for viewing sandhill cranes. This time I came for the bats. Well, and to be a good Wildlife Society Board member and help with the picnic. Before food or bats, we piled into trucks and vans and followed employees of Westervelt Ecological Services, a company that restores wildlife habitat, to one of their properties near the preserve. This land had originally been privately owned and used for agriculture, but being surrounded by the Cosumnes and Mokulumne Rivers, creeks, and sloughs made it prone to too much flooding, so the land was sold as a mitigation bank. Now the goal is to restore the riparian forest that was once there, and that would support the diversity of wildlife that depended on that forest. A huge but laudable undertaking.
Now (before restoration):

After restoration, it will hopefully look like this:

Now the bats. Just slightly south from the entrance to the preserve, on Franklin Blvd., there is a long bridge where the road crosses the Mokolumne. Mexican free-taied bats roost under the bridge, and just at a precise moment between dusk and dark, they emerge in the thousands, in a steady stream of organized flight, to set out into the night sky and begin foraging. The hawks sit in the trees and wait. If one is lucky, it will dive into the flurry of circling bats and pick one off in flight. We were at the right time and place to witness such a phenomenon. It's like standing in a scene from BBC's Planet Earth.

Chris and I also have seen bats emerge from under the causeway of Interstate 80 just west of Sacramento. The Yolo Wildlife Area does bat tours regularly. It's worth seeing. Especially since bats get a bad rap and they are among the cutest animals imaginable. Some of the common myths about bats are ludicrous. They eat fruit and insects, and the one species (vampire bats) that consumes blood (usually from cows) seals the wound with an antiseptic and the cow doesn't feel a thing. Bats are now facing a decline because of a fungus-caused disease (White-nosed syndrome) that is spreading throughout the country. For this and other reasons, many species of bats need protection. Any of us can learn about these adorable mammals and help them in many ways.