Methow Conservancy

Magical Days

2012-02-17T14:36:00.000-08:00

by Sarah Brooks, Associate Director

Some days are just magical. They start out like any old day, but somewhere along the line they transform into one of those make-you-thankful days emblazoned in your memory forever.

Yesterday was one of those days for me. Here’s how it unfolded:

After dropping my daughter off at the bus stop, I came into work knowing I had a lot to do before my 8:30 meeting with a dedicated volunteer and then a 9:00 meeting with our Finance Committee to discuss the budget for next fiscal year. My mind was on numbers and spreadsheets, dwindling government grant funds and the like—nothing really all that magical.

I knew our conference room downstairs would be chilly, so I decided to run down stairs (our only stairwell is outside the building) and quickly turn on the heat so we could at least talk finances in some comfort.

The stairwell, with the window I would look out framed in blue.

I remember taking the stairs somewhat slowly. They are old and wooden and tend to be very slippery on cold winter mornings. I stood on our lower deck and unlocked the door. I walked through Stewardship Director Heide Andersen’s tidy office space and entered the conference room. The light switches were to my right, next to the large picture window that so often can distract us in meetings as we watch all the activity at the confluence of the Methow and Chewuch Rivers.

I turned to the right to flip the switches and looked out the window. My angle had me peering into the space under the stairwell I had just carefully come down. I remember freezing, stopped in awe. I was looking at a cougar, no more than 5 feet away under the stairs standing up and looking right at me. (Sorry, no picture…I was too stunned!)

He was beautiful and powerful and our eyes locked. We stared at each other for what seemed like a really long time (though I admit time stopped, while I wondered if I had really closed the door firmly and reminded myself that I was not at a zoo peering through glass, but right here at work). His tail was thick and long and so noticeable and graceful. His head was small and compact and inquisitive. His paws seemed huge.

The view from the window.

I felt a rush of adrenaline, a wave of respectful fear, and most of all just so lucky. What a beautiful animal, so rarely seen. I admit to also feeling a tinge of guilt, for I’m sure my stair climbing had disturbed its quiet place of comfort. It was one of those moments when you really consider your place in the universe and feel rather appropriately small.

I broke our gaze and went around the room to the phone. I figured I should alert my co-workers, so no one else would come down the stairs and surprise the cougar. It was then that it dawned on me that I was somewhat trapped downstairs, for the only way up was to traverse the stairwell by the cougar. No one had yet arrived upstairs and I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

I don’t think I thought through the next 20 minutes very rationally or clearly. All of my co-workers were in transit, so I didn’t catch anyone, except a few spouses who I’m sure were not expecting such a call. I worried especially about my 8:30 volunteer, who would find the office unlocked upstairs, but no one there and then might try to come downstairs.

The tracks we found around the deck.

I heard his footsteps on the stairs and I rushed to the door to shout a word of warning, sure that by now the cougar had probably moved on his way, but still, just to be safe… And as I got to the door, the cougar popped out from under the stairwell area (guess he had been there all along just out of my view) and he ran across the deck just a few feet from where I stood inside behind the closed door. He ran upriver with the most graceful, quiet, yet strong and fast gait I’ve ever seen.

At this point, the volunteer and I met on the deck and looked after the direction the cougar had gone, though he quickly disappeared from sight. We shared a stunned expression.

The cougar resting before relocation.

We called the Fish and Wildlife experts to let them know about the sighting. By mid-afternoon, they had tracked the animal and tranquilized him so they could relocate him to a more remote location. They were kind enough to stop by our office and let us have a look at our visitor as he slept in their truck. They figure he was about a year and a half old, 100 lbs or so, and a male. He was collared and would be released with a deer carcass for a first meal.

My concentration the rest of the day was a bit shot. I made it through the budget meeting and my other tasks, but always I was thinking about the cougar. Where was he? Was he scared, disoriented? Did my stunned face still resonate in his memory as his did in mine? And, still today, I wonder about his fate. I’d like to think that there is plenty of space for all of us to thrive.

In the end, there’s no word to describe the encounter, really, other than magical. I’ve been known to say several times a week that I can’t believe how lucky I am to live in the Methow Valley, but when I concluded recanting my cougar encounter to my daughter last night, I found myself saying it with even more passion than ever. How did I get so lucky?

"The Bitterroot Grounds - Notes from Class #2 of "The Ecological History of the Methow Valley" Conservation Course

2012-02-16T13:36:00.000-08:00

The 8th annual Methow Conservation Course on the “Ecological History of the Methow Valley” began Monday, January 31st. Here are notes from the second class. Notes from the first class are below this post, and there will be four more classes. Mary Kiesau prepared this summary.

Bob Mierendorf, the archeologist for the North Cascades National Park, was the instructor for our second class in our Conservation Course, “The Ecological History of the Methow Valley.”

Bob was the very first archeologist for the Pacific Northwest region of the National Park Service and has worked at the North Cascades National Park for 25 years, researching and managing (primarily for conservation and protection) archeological sites in the rugged interior of the North Cascades.


3,800 year old ash from a Mt. St. Helens eruption.

Bob started us off with an overview of what the Methow and the North Cascades looked like upon retreat of the Ice Age glaciers and when colonization by humans began. Scientists know this from studying pollen and plant macrofossils in the layers of mud at the bottom of lakes. They are able to create timelines based on significant events such as the eruption of Mount St. Helens 3,800 years ago which deposited large layers of ash for thousands of miles.

The last major ice age this area saw existed from about 2 million years ago (mya) to about 11,500 years ago (y.a.). That was the Cordilleran Ice Sheet and it began to retreat from our region 13,000 years ago. Around this time, the very first people begin to appear in what is now the western United States from other places on the globe.

13,000 to 10,000 years ago: there were few trees; the land was more like the Serengeti with grasses, sage and some 5-needle pines. The climate was still relatively cold and dry, and ungulates or grass eaters such as giant sloth, giraffe, mastodon, ancient bison were dominant.
10,000 to 5,000 years ago: the climate is warming and getting drier. Forests formed at higher elevations, with more of an emphasis of 2 and 3-needle pines such as ponderosa pine.
5,000 to 2,500 years ago: the climate began to cool and get moist again. Douglas fir were more abundant now, grasses and sage were less abundant and western hemlock and western red cedar were migrating west to east.
2,500 years ago to the present: A “little ice age” with colder temps than what we are used to today, more moisture and an expansion of mountain glaciers began 3,000 to 2,500 years ago and ended about 200 years ago. Large tracts of forests formed, and the land would have looked familiar to us.

The earliest peoples, say from 11,500 to 5,000 years ago did not see what we see today - they lived in a very different landscape even though it is the same land.

Clovis-period (~13,000 y.a.) stone and bone tools from East Wenatchee

So, who were the first people of the Methow region? Bob, says, honestly, we don’t really know. No “early” sites have been found in the Methow yet. Here, “early” means Clovis (around 13,000 y.a.) or even Pre-Clovis (15 - 13,000 y.a.). While, the Ice Age glaciers could have lingered in the Cascades, and Methow and Okanogan valleys longer than places further south and west, it’s also true that lots of archeological artifacts and sites have been lost in the Methow due to flooding and river erosion, ditching, digging, etc., so we just may never know exactly when humans arrived in our neck of the woods. Still, the Skagit, Columbia and Frasier Rivers created a major convergence zone with high biodiversity important to foraging communities, and it’s clear that people were living in the region (Wenatchee and south and east of Wenatchee) 11,500 y.a. and very likely earlier than that. Stone and bone tools estimated to be 13,000 years old were found in East Wenatchee in 1987, and there are two sites in the Puget Sound area that are estimated to be 13,800 years old.

In the past, typical archeologists didn’t think Native Americans had lived in the mountains, in the Cascades. They assumed it was too rugged and that there was no reason to go there.

Bob said that a friend of his, Ms. Adeline Fredin (of Methow and Wenatchee descent) who served as her tribe’s historian said to him once, “You archeologists, you want to know where Indian People were?...Throw a stick…where it lands is where we were.” She was trying to tell him that they traveled widely and lived in the valleys and the mountains.

With more recent research, including that of Bob Mierendorf’s, we’ve learned that the Methow is literally surrounded by archeological sites dating from 6,500 y.a. to as early as 9,500 y.a., and it’s not uncommon to find them at mountain passes. Bob says people must have started coming to the Methow in this time-frame. It was the time when the climate was warming and getting drier, trees were growing and animals were changing though there were still lots of large grass-eating mammals.

The Methow is literally surrounded by early Holocene archeological sites

Bob has been doing research in the Cascade Pass area (just outside of Marblemount, and one of the known travel and trade routes from east to west for at least more recent native americans) for several years. What he found is astonishing.

A quartz chisel from Cascade Pass

There are cooking hearth pits at Cascade Pass that are 9,500 to 9,600 years old! This is the earliest dated/known use of a subalpine zone in the Pacific Northwest. Mierendorf and his team have found charcoal made from pine, fir and hemlock; quartz artifacts and microblades, and more. Bob predicts that mountain passes have great archeological significance and that scientists will start looking at them more.

Rock Art in the Methow

Bob then moved on to cover Methow archeology

Harold J. Cundy, a young researcher in the 1930s documented sites with rock art throughout the Methow Valley.
Earl Swanson, working for the WA State Division of Mines & Geology, did an archeological survey of the Methow in the late 1950s. He found house pits, rock shelters, talus pits, fishing sites, lithic scatters, burial grounds, cooking pits, and sweat lodges.
In 1986, the DOT did one large-scale excavation at the mouth of Wolf Creek for the expansion of the Highway. To date, the oldest artifacts found in the Methow Valley were found there and they were 3,000 years old. Of note, obsidian from Three Sisters, Oregon was found.
More researchers found bits and pieces of things through the 1980s.
Now, there are over 50 known archeological sites in the Methow Valley, and many of them are rock art sites. One site up the Chewuch is dated to 1600 years ago and is the earliest rock art date known in Washington State.
It’s clear that pre-contact (before settlers) Indians paid attention to the slope and aspect of the land when siting pit houses and other shelters. Areas slightly distant from the river and with some slope angle provided air movement and tended to be warmer.
It’s also clear that the area we call Wolf Creek was important. The use of the area from Wolf Creek to the Chewuch reach for fishing is ancient, and native people continued to fish there in early 1900s. The more recent archeological past shows an influence from the Plains Indians with the use of tipis and travois, and of course horses. It is believed that the Methows were great horse people.
In general, it appears that Indians in the Methow trapped and speared fish mostly, hunted secondly, and collected berries and other plant parts third.
The presence of nearby high elevation archeological sites suggests the mountains were used by natives but almost no archeological research has been done in the Methow high country.

Bob left us with some meanings of our place. He said, “language preserves connection to place and gives it meaning.”

The xantci’n people called the entrance to the Methow “little rocky gate” village.
The Interior Salish, spa’tlmulux, people, called the Methow Valley the “bitterroot grounds” valley.
Verne Ray, and ethnographer and anthropologist who studied Salish people throughout Washington, says Methow means “land of sunflower seeds.”

Bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva) has an edible root that was a staple for native americans

Bob concluded with, “The Methow pre-contact history is virtually unknown, but there’s a lot here!”

"A Breadbasket" - Notes from Class #1 of "The Ecological History of the Methow Valley" Conservation Course

2012-02-08T17:46:00.000-08:00

The 8th annual Methow Conservation Course on the “Ecological History of the Methow Valley” began Monday, January 31st with guest speakers Elaine Timentwa Emerson & Jack Nisbet. There will be five more classes and we'll post notes from each class on this blog. Mary Kiesau prepared this summary of the first class with notes from class participants Leah Swayze and Joyce Bergen. For more information about the course click here.

(A quick history note on the timing of things... Prior to 1886, there were very few white people living in the Methow, just a small handful of men. Still, the local Indian population, which traveled in and out of the Methow Valley seasonally, had been drastically reduced by disease - there were probably about 300 people in the Methow band in 1886 according to historians. A crucial period of change began with the opening of the Methow to homesteading (1886), which was primarily due to the potential for gold and other mining-related minerals. In a very quick period of time, 15-20 years, 1000 plus white people moved into the valley. There was no easy transportation into the valley for decades so food had to be grown, creating a big increase in cultivated land. For more information on what happened to native populations in the region see the “History of the Colvilles” page on the Colville Confederate Tribes website)

Elaine, a Native American whose mother was from the Methow band and whose father was from the Okanogan band, started things off by speaking to us in her native language. Elaine grew up on a cattle ranch in Monse, WA (just northeast of Brewster), but would come up the Methow 10-12 times a year with her mother and other “old ladies,” first on horseback and then by car. Elaine said even before the Methow was opened to homesteading and Indians were moved, most Methows were nomadic, wintering in the Okanogan, or further east and south, and coming to the Methow the rest of the year, though some probably did live here year-round. The Methow Valley was a “bread-basket” Elaine said, “every native food type grew here, except for camas.” People would fish, hunt (deer for meat, big horn sheep for wool), collect roots, berries, and other native food, even basket materials and rocks (for pipes, bowls and implements). Elaine remembers collected cedar bark by Goat Wall and wild cherry bark in Lost River. She said that over time (through the 1900s) it became harder to collect things - farms expanded and the number of people and homesteads increased; the use of sprays killed many native plants, including one of their favorites, Indian Celery (what we call chocolate tips); and native families were getting more split up, losing parts of their culture, language and sense of place. For example, her mother’s grandfather specialized in canoe-making but his apprentices died of disease brought by settlers. After the Methow was opened to homesteading and throughout the first half of the 1900s, families either moved to the Colville Reservation or took homestead allotments in the Okanogan. The Okanogan Valley was far too dry and low for many of the native foods that grew in the Methow however.

Elaine says there are very few descendents of the

A basket made by Elaine Timentwa Emerson

Methow band left - the culture has been in danger of dying out. She and others are trying to change that and teach the younger people that “they came from a place,” and “how to live in tandem with the land.” Her elders taught her the language when she was young and for the last 17 plus years, she has worked with the Okanogan Language Preservation Program as a fluent speaker in documenting and teaching Okanogan native language and culture. Elaine also comes from a long line of accomplished basket makers. When she was just six years old she began being taught basketery skills. By her mid 20s she noticed that no one was making them anymore. Now and for the last 25 years Elaine has taught her own people how to make traditional cedar baskets. Elaine showed us several baskets including a very large one for berry collecting that took her many months to make. Elaine’s sister Tillie was also with us on the 31st. Tillie is a beader and she shared some of her work as well.

Author, naturalist and teacher, Jack Nisbet spoke after Elaine, giving us a brief human and natural history lesson about the “period of contact” time in and around the Methow.
Jack started off with the first known white person to not just come into contact with Methow natives, but stay with them, observe them and write about them in some detail. It was July 1811, and the person was David Thompson, who was traveling by boat from Kettle Falls down the Columbia for the North West Fur Company. David Thompson wrote that the natives pronounced the name of the area as “Smeethhowe.” He also noted that they were used fish nets made of Indian Hemp (Apocynum cannabinum). Indian Hemp is a fibrous

Indian Hemp (Apocynum cannabinum)

plant like nettles but it can get wet and dry over and over without rotting. David Thompson made the first notes of the Methow River on maps.

This business of trapping and trading fur from beavers, muskrats and numerous other animals continued on in earnest for several decades and it’s the reason white europeans and native americans interacted with each other. In exchange for furs, natives were given meat and grease, saddles and saddle blankets, hides and skins, snowshoes and many other products.

The Methow people were some of the many regional tribal people who traded goods at Fort Okanogan. Alexandar Ross a Scottish fur trader working at Fort Okanogan, attempted to travel up the Methow Valley and over the Cascades to the Skagit with the help of some native guides in 1814. They never made it but Ross was the first known European to try. Ross kept journals but they’ve all been lost. Historians and archeologists now know that Indians throughout the region traveled from the lower Methow to the Skagit River over a few different routes, generally ascending the Twisp Pass to the Stehekin valley and then over Cascade Pass.

David Douglas, a British botanist/naturalist, arrived at Fort Vancouver on the Washington coast in 1825. He explored the northwest, including the “big bend” area of the Columbia River in northcentral Washington, in three trips, spending a total of four years in the Northwest (1825 - 1827 and 1830 - 1832), and it’s from these excursions that we have the first bits of expanded information on what plants natives ate, how they cooked and used plants, and how they “managed” land such as encouraging root crops to grow and burning patches of land.

Jack Nisbet noted that tribal names for plants described the food part of the plant (often the root), not the flowers -- for example, Indian Potato for what we call Spring Beauty; Indian Celery for what we call Chocolate Tips; Biscuitroot, Bitterroot, Balsamroot and so on.

a very large spring beauty root

Spring Beauty (Claytonia lanceolata)

David Douglas also noted “weeds” or european plant species that were already present in the early 1800s, such as pigweed and reed canary grass. John Richardson, who wrote the first fauna book of the american west in 1829, noted that sage grouse nested in reed canary grass. Now, sage grouse have decreased from numbers in the hundreds to nothing, locally, whereas reed canary grass is everywhere. While some things like this are out of balance, Jack Nisbet reminded us that some things are the same, such as the fact the pocket gophers have been stealing food and pestering people for many generations, even eating the Indian’s camas roots. :-)

Owl Peak Ski

2012-01-29T15:11:00.000-08:00

By Mary Kiesau

For nearly two weeks, the skies have been bursting with snow. For those of us who love winter in the Methow, there have been no complaints, but it has been a shoveling, snow-blowing, plow-truck frenzy with hardly a break in-between storms. With all the time and work needed to move snow around there's barely been a moment to get out and enjoy the fresh stuff.

Friday, the clouds parted and bluebird skies appeared. I knew it would be a gorgeous day but I also had a lot of work to do to prepare for the start of the Conservation Course. It would be easy for me to stay in the office and get tasks done. I don't always have the foresight to do something fun and healthy for myself that in the long-run is important to staying productive and focused. That's where Executive Director leadership comes in! Our ED, Jason Paulsen, is always encouraging us to get outside, take time away when we need it, and enjoy the Methow that we work to protect. On Friday, he set a fine example for us and instigated a staff ski into Owl Peak, a stunning property in the Rendezvous that we currently own (and which is for sale!). Heide Andersen, our Stewardship Director, and I went along.

Owl Peak was bequeathed to us by Ann Lennartz, a long-time friend and donor of the Methow Conservancy. For me, it's one of the most breath-taking places in the Valley. Along with it's incredible beauty and amazing views, it's surprisingly hidden (though really not all that remote) and I feel peacefully alone and calm when I'm there. Not lonely, because you have the earth (covered in native plants in the summer), the birds (ravens and woodpeckers and bluebirds galore), the sky (for as far as you can see), the mountains (like you can reach out and touch Mount Gardner), and, when you want them, views of Winthrop and the Valley (and you can totally imagine where and how a glacier carved out what we call home). It's a special place and I feel lucky to be able to soak it in and be a part of it for this moment in time.

So, here are some photos from our Friday afternoon ski to Owl Peak. Enjoy!

Skinning up the driveway

Ski to your front door!

I love the little guest cabin.

And I love the red tiles in the small, custom-built house.

Sastrugi, is a long, wave-like ridge of snow formed by the wind.

heading uphill from the house and cabin with Gardner in the background

can't go under it; can't go over it (yes, he went around it!).

Heide skinning up a ridge with peaks in the Chewuch drainage beyond her.

Self-Portrait

A World with a View (of Winthrop)

Heide & Jason skinning up

Heide & Jason with Gardner looming large. We stripped skins here and skied down!


A sepia-induced sunset on the Owl Peak property. What a way to spend a Friday afternoon!

...and a Partridge in a Chokecherry Tree

2011-12-20T15:04:00.000-08:00

by Mary Kiesau, naturalist-in-training

Winter is here, and while there isn't a ton of snow, what has been abundant lately are wildlife sightings. Maybe the snow makes creatures easier to see -- a tawny brown coyote crossing a field of white is much easier to spot than one in a sea of dead grass and weeds. Maybe some animals are spending more time lower in elevation now. Or maybe, some folks have just been lucky!

These blog photos all started a few weeks ago when co-worker Jeanne White came in asking for help in identifying an interesting looking bird she had seen several times on Lewis Butte. At first, I thought she was perhaps seeing Harrier Hawks, but after a quiz of characteristics, we determined that she was seeing Short-Eared Owls (Asio flammeus). And, what do you know... the Sibley guide says, "can be confused with Northern Harrier." These owls are in the Valley year-round, hanging out in the shrub-steppe or agricultural fields, searching for rodents. And while they are often out in the daytime, they are really not commonly seen. The sighting was interesting enough that local naturalist Dana Visalli went out in search of them after hearing from us. He came back with this photo.

Jeanne was on a wildlife roll when right after the owls she saw a bobcat (Lynx rufus)on the side of the road eating a dead deer (most likely road-kill). Bobcats are closely related to Lynx and look very similar but there are some key differences in appearance. Bobcats are about twice the size of a house cat, whereas lynx are quite a bit bigger. Both cats have distinctive ear tufts but a bobcat's are relatively small whereas a lynx's are clearly long. Bobcats tend to have mottled, pattern fur that is often tones of brown, and a lynx is typically more gray with little to no patterns. A track in the snow is the dead give away though. Lynx practically have snowshoes on their feet - there is so much fur that toe pads typically don't show and the size can be up to 5.5 inches by 5.5 inches. Bobcat tracks are much smaller - up to 2.5 inches by 2.5 inches - and you can almost always make out the four toes.

One week later (last week), local naturalists Victor Glick and Libby Schreiner were out on one of their daily wildlife jaunts and guess what they came across(!). A cougar (Puma concolor) and a pine marten (Martes americana!) Those lucky dogs. And, lucky for us they got some pretty great photos too.

The partridge, you ask? Yes, friends in the Rendezvous just reported seeing flocks of gray partridges. Here's a picture from Wikipedia.

From all of us at the Methow Conservancy, we hope you are finding festive and active ways to enjoy these long, dark days around the Winter Solstice. If these sightings are any indication, there's a lot going on out there in our wintery world!

Thanks for Giving!

2011-12-02T10:06:00.000-08:00

By Sarah Brooks, Associate Director (aka Chief Gratitude Officer)

Our Leave a Legacy Tree, with each
leaf representing a donor's gift.

Thanksgiving….one of my favorite holidays of the year. It’s relatively non-commercial, offers a chance to spend a day cooking with people I like, and all in all we are happy, unrushed, and nice to each other. For most, it is a time to give thanks and pause in otherwise busy lives.

As someone who spends my career focused on helping raise funds to support causes I care deeply about, the Thanksgiving time for me is not just about giving thanks but also about being thankful for giving. The spirit of giving is alive and well in our country (and definitely in our neck of the woods), and I make a conscious effort in December to take a moment each day to remind myself just how amazing the American giving spirit is.

According to the GivingUSA 2011 Report, individuals in our country gave more than $211 billion in 2010 to nonprofit causes they care about. Those rates held relatively steady even in the midst of a long economic downturn. And, while I know of no official report on volunteer hours, all of us involved with the nonprofit sector know that the “giving” spirit reaches beyond the financial to incredible gifts of time, wisdom, and inspiration.

The weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s are an especially appropriate time to give thanks for giving. I read recently that most nonprofits raise almost one-third of their donations from individuals during December. It is certainly true here at the Methow Conservancy that November through early January results in our largest surge of donations – for which we are incredibly thankful.

It can be all too easy in December, then, as a fundraiser to get too focused on whether or not we’ll meet our goals or our budget. This year, I’m making an extra conscious effort to face the weeks post-turkey dinner with a different lens. This year, I’m in awe.

Our whole staff shares a commitment to our mission of
inspiring people to care for the land of the Methow Valley.

I’m in awe at the trust that all this giving of time, money, and expertise represents. I know that when I open an envelope with a donation to the Methow Conservancy that what I am really seeing is a family’s trust that we will make their hopes for the Methow Valley come true. Giving is an expression of one’s values and an implicit expectation that we will know how to turn that donation into lasting land protection in the Methow Valley resulting in productive farmland, open spaces, scenic views, wildlife habitat and a community that cares for the land for generations to come. We take that responsibility seriously here at the Methow Conservancy and we do see each gift – of money, volunteer time, or expertise – as a sign of trust and a belief in our ability to make an impact.

In 2012, I hope we can find more ways to hear from all of you to understand your hopes and dreams for the Methow and to make sure that our efforts continue to have the impact you all envision.

The week before Thanksgiving, I attended the National Philanthropy Day celebration at the Westin Hotel in Seattle. It was incredibly humbling and uplifiting to be in a room of more than 800 people who choose to change the world by either working for or supporting the efforts of nonprofits. This year, I’m personally declaring every day between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Philanthropy Day as I pause to be grateful for the incredible giving spirit that sustains not only our work here at the Methow Conservancy but our mission. Thanks for the trust.

Sarah celebrating the joy of giving!

-- Sarah

Snow!

2011-11-22T11:25:00.000-08:00

The new pedestrian bridge on the Susie Stephens Trail here in downtown Winthrop provides a perfect vantage point for observing spawning salmon or simply watching the Methow and Chewuch Rivers come together during a peaceful snow storm like the one we are enjoying outside our office here in the Methow on Tuesday morning. The forecasters say that rain is one the way, but you wouldn't know that by looking outside. If you are here in the Methow Valley, enjoy! If you are headed to the Methow for the Thanksgiving Holiday, travel safely and have a wonderful weekend enjoying the beauty of the Methow Valley!

The White-Headed Salt Eagle Returns!

2011-11-09T14:13:00.000-08:00

By Mary Kiesau, Conservancy bird nerd

Yes, we are into Latin or Scientific names around here, mostly because they are just so interesting, or maybe because it makes us look smart (or not so smart as the case may be with our last post from Jason who used the scientific name for Western Larch when he really meant to be referring to Subalpine Larch! We'll let him stick to running the organization). ANYWAY, today we are talking about the Bald Eagle with the fancy name of Haliaeetus leucocephalus. To decipher this we look to the Greeks where hali = salt, aeetus = eagle, leuco = white, cephalis = head. That's the white-headed salt eagle, or sea eagle as it is often called, but we'll stick to Bald Eagle today.

Have you noticed there has been a considerable increase in these big birds in the last week or so? In trees along the highway, in the rivers eating fish, flying low through the valley....yes, seasonal migration is on and eagles that spend their summers further north are returning here (their birth place) for the winter. (Some stay here year-round, but many more are here Nov-March).

Here's some info about Bald Eagles along with some local photos taken by yours truly:

Bald eagles historically occurred throughout the contiguous United States and Alaska. The largest North American breeding populations are in Alaska and Canada, but there are also significant bald eagle populations in the Great Lakes states, Florida, the Pacific Northwest, the Greater Yellowstone area, and the Chesapeake Bay region. In the fall, eagles begin moving to their wintering grounds, which can be throughout the US but mostly in the Midwest and West near open water and rivers, including the Methow Valley of course.

It takes 4 to 5 years for juvenile eagles’ mottled brown and white plumage to change to dark brown with the distinctive white head and tail. This is also when they begin to breed. See various stages of markings below.

Eagles mate for life, typically nesting in the tops of large trees; nests may reach 10 feet across and weigh a half ton. The birds travel great distances but usually return to breeding grounds within 100 miles of where they were raised.

Breeding bald eagles typically lay one to three eggs once a year, and they hatch after about 35 days. The young eagles are flying within three months and are on their own about a month later. Young are as big as adults when they fledge – they gain 10 lbs in 10 weeks.

Female adults may weigh 14 lbs and have a wingspan of 8 feet. Male eagles are smaller, as is the case in many birds, weighing up to 10 pounds with a wingspan of 6 feet.

Bald eagles are opportunistic feeders with fish comprising much of their diet. They also eat waterfowl, shorebirds, small mammals, turtles, and carrion. Here in the Methow we often see eagles eating dead deer on roadsides or over embankments. Because they are visual hunters, eagles typically locate their prey from a conspicuous perch, or soaring flight, then swoop down and strike. Eagles need to eat about 11 lbs of food a day in the winter. Note the bloody face (and feet) of this eagle that was recently feeding on roadkill deer.

At night, wintering eagles often congregate at communal roost trees, in some cases traveling 32 miles or more from feeding areas to a roost site. It is thought that communal roasting helps the birds communicate and find food.

To distinguish Bald and Golden Eagles at any age, the lower part of the bald eagle’s legs are bare. The entire legs of golden eagles are feathered. Golden are noticeably larger as well, but for more of us the birds need to be side by side for us to "notice."

Bald eagles may live 15 to 25 years in the wild!

On June 28, 2007, the US Fish & Wildlife Service removed the Bald Eagle from the list of threatened and endangered species, and deemed it “recovered.” The bird is still protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act.

Happy Eagle Watching!

Larix occidentalis

2011-10-24T11:10:00.000-07:00

By Jason Paulsen, Executive Director

Here in the "Evergreen State", fall is the time of year when the high country is illuminated with the beauty of Larix occidentalis, our "not so ever green" Evergreen.

Reportedly discovered in western Montana in 1806 and finally described and classified by Thomas Nuttal in 1834, Larix occidentalis or the western Larch is often a traffic stopper along Highway #20 near Washington Pass this time of year. And for good reason.

The bright yellow-orange coloration of the leaves (needles) of Larix occidentalis preparing to fall to the ground, set against new fallen snow and a backdrop of the blue sky is a combination worth pausing for.

Part of what makes the western Larch so unique here in the Pacific Northwest is that it is the only one of our conifers to lose ALL of its leaves (needles) EACH year. In fact, it is reported to be one of only three conifers to do so -- the others being the Bald Cypress and Dawn Redwood.

While all conifers technically lose their needles, they do so over a cycle of 2 to 15 years, with the old needles being replaced by new green ones. For instance, most pines keep their needles for three or four years. Hence, their "ever green" appearance.

If you are here in the Methow Valley this week, be sure to plan a hike somewhere up high to enjoy the brilliant beauty of Larix occidentalis!

                                                     - Jason

Photos by Jason Paulsen, 2011

Step Outside...

2011-10-17T15:16:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about the Methow Valley is the fact that you can literally step outside just about anywhere and be captivated by the beauty of the landscape -- even if you have only a few minutes.

A short walk around our downtown Winthrop office this afternoon revealed beautiful fall colors, the crystal clear water at the conflence of the Chewuch and Methow rivers, and the whistle of air under the wings of a pair of ducks headed south.

We welcome you to migrate through our Winthrop office when we are open, to say hello, and to enjoy the unique setting that provides so much inspiration for our work. We hope to see you soon!

Enjoy!

- Jason

"My Favorite Time of Year..."

2011-10-05T15:55:00.000-07:00

By Jason Paulsen, Executive Director

While not concluded by way of a scientific survey, I think that the period from mid-September through mid-October is the time of year when casual conversation here in the valley most often includes someone saying “…this is my favorite time of year.” Or, perhaps I’m just more receptive to these remarks because the autumn season is my favorite time of year.

Regardless, I was giving some thought the other day to why I feel such a strong connection to this time of year. Crisp mornings, clear blue sky days (at least some days!), less traffic on the trails, the beauty of the low angled light at sunrise and sunset, or the satisfaction of getting firewood secured for the coming winter…there’s no end to the list of great attributes that the autumn season brings.

For me it is all these things, and something more.

Harvest and views on a conserved property in Mazama

While stacking firewood the other night, I concluded that it is the frequency of what I’ll call “memory triggered by scent” episodes that make this season so intense and enjoyable for me. Those moments where a scent in the air triggers an immediate memory, transporting me back to a previous time and place, often one I haven’t thought about for years. I seem to experience these episodes more frequently at this time of year for some reason.

Over the past couple of weeks, the smell of fresh cut alfalfa has taken me back decades to time spent on the tractor on my grandparent’s farm. The smell of fresh snow in the mountains brought back a memory of waking up unexpectedly to a snow covered tent near Mount Rainier. The first smell of wood smoke evoked memories of past Septembers spent smoking and canning salmon with my family. Even the smell of the skunk who met an untimely demise on Highway 20 near Big Valley the other day triggered a humorous memory of trying to evade a one of its cousins while camping last year in British Columbia. This list goes on…

I hope to find some time this winter to research the science behind this “scent/ memory” connection, but until then I’m already looking forward to being outside this evening after a day of rain, to see what memories come drifting by. And I’ll look forward to hearing if any of you experience these “triggers” more often at any particular time of year?

- Jason

Behind the Scenes: The Sweetness of the Cider Squeeze

2011-09-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

By Sarah Brooks, Associate Director

I still get nervous before our events. Are all the little details (and the big ones, for that matter) in place? What will happen that’s out of my control? What if no one shows? What if we don’t have enough food? What if…

Prepping for my 8^th annual Cider Squeeze, it seemed I shouldn’t be too nervous. After all, it’s a great event every year: generous hosts Marilyn and Dave Sabold are about the nicest people you could meet, there is always plenty of tasty cider flowing from a cool antique press, the weather was set to be sunny and warm, and who doesn’t enjoy an excuse to enjoy a fall day at the Sabold’s beautiful pond?

On Friday afternoon, however, I found something to worry about. I went to the Sabold’s early to do a little pre-pressing to ensure we had enough cider for all the guests. I was excited to have some time on the press—usually I work the nametag table, so I don’t get to be a part of the cider making. All too soon, the yellowjackets arrived. They were fierce. No one could remember them being quite so ferocious quite so late into the fall. I found myself seeking an almost Zen-like state of calm to work the press or the tap without making a movement too quick to cause a wasp frenzy as they swarmed the filtering screen. Despite my focus, I still managed to get stung and ended the day with a rapidly swelling arm.

And, so, I fretted most of Friday night and Saturday morning. What if others get stung ? What if no one wants to press the cider because of those pesky wasps? Here was an event wrinkle I had not anticipated.

The event began and soon enough the press was running. I must admit that I spent much of the following two hours thinking about all the details that could go awry. I saw lots of smiling faces and people seemed to be having a good time (and no medical emergencies emerged), but I still couldn’t seem to relax.

As the event drew to a close, Nellie Casey stopped by my nametag table to say thank you for the event. She then proceeded to say that she looks forward to the event because even if you don’t leave with cider, there’s just something about taking a turn on that press and looking up to see another community member working with you.

And suddenly, I stopped all that fretting. Nellie was completely right. That’s the point of the Cider Squeeze. It does take a whole team of people to make that sweet nectar: people to put the apples in the press, someone strong to spin the wheel, someone else to monitor the flow, another to crank the press, others to filter and fill the bottles. A whole crew of people—who often haven’t met before—have to work together.

That’s a pretty perfect metaphor for doing conservation work in the Methow. You can’t do it alone. It takes a whole team – a whole community—of people. And, it takes working with people you may not know for the end cause you all care about.

So, maybe the yellowjackets were annoying and maybe it was too hot for the cream cheese frosting, and maybe the speeches were hard to hear in the wind. That didn’t matter, because at it’s core (excuse the bad pun), the Cider Squeeze is the perfect celebration for conservation. It is about all of us coming together to celebrate our collective work as people protecting a place we love. And, that’s pretty sweet.

RAPTORS up-close and personal

2011-09-22T11:37:00.000-07:00

By Mary Kiesau, Program Coordinator

On Sept. 21, 2011, we took a fieldtrip to the Chelan Ridge Raptor Migration Project site with 12 folks. Just like last year's fieldtrip, we had an amazing day seeing raptors up-close and personal and learning about raptor conservation with our wonderful guide and instructor Kent Woodruff. We highly recommend a visit to this site which is open to the public daily. The raptor project usually runs from late August through mid to late October. Check out http://www.hawkwatch.org/conservation-science/migration-research-sites/74-chelan-ridge-raptor-migration-project for details on the site, including how many and what species of birds have been counted there. These photos were taken by Mary Kiesau.

A Sharp-Shinned Hawk at the Chelan Ridge Raptor Migration Project site.

Kent Woodruff, Chelan Ridge project coordinator (works for the Forest Service) and a Sharp-Shinned Hawk. The FS works in partnership with HawkWatch International to monitor and learn more about raptors migrating through the eastern Cascade Mountains of Washington. The project has been running for 15 years.

A female Sharp-Shinned Hawk, weighing in at 184 grams. A male caught earlier weighed just 91 grams. For raptors, females are always larger than males.

Ellen Lamiman holding a Sharp-Shinned Hawk.

Ellen Lamiman releasing a Sharp-Shinned Hawk.

By looking at the faint colors within the wing of this Cooper's Hawk, Kent can tell that it is a "2nd year" (2 year old) bird. It still has a tiny bit of brown (juvenile) feathers in it's wings.

A female Cooper's Hawk, weighing in at 453 grams. This bird was significantly larger than the Sharp-Shinned Hawk, but they are similar in that they are both Accipters. These birds are short-winged and long-tailed, and they are forest hunters. They are quick and agile, able to pursue small birds through trees and shrubs.

The views and trail to the Observation Deck.

This is known at the Observation Deck. At least two people stand here all day watching for raptors and writing down info on what they see. A plastic owl, which raptors hate, on a pole helps bring raptors in, but it's the high density of willows on the ridge that brings in "food birds" (aka song birds) which in turn brings in raptors...much more here than other places.

Kent Woodruff tells us about the beak of a Sharp-Shinned Hawk.

Kent Woodruff, Chelan Ridge project coordinator (works for the Forest Service) and a juvenile Sharp-Shinned Hawk.

Placing the very calm Sharp-Shinned Hawk in the hand of Heide Andersen, our Stewardship Director.

Heide Andersen releasing the Sharp-Shinned Hawk.

Celebrating Roots

2011-09-14T13:55:00.000-07:00

No, not carrots or beets or KTRT (tho' we love them all)......Thanks to all our current and former conservators, staff, Board members, Advisory Council member and Committee members (whew!) who were able to attend our "Celebrating Our Roots" brunch at the Heath's on Sept. 4th. It was wonderful to see so many people who have helped us become the organization we are today...and it was a gorgeous day to boot. Special thanks to Harold & Tina for opening their home to us and showcasing their amazing conservation easement, and to Arrowleaf Bistro for the fabulous food!

Our First Post

2011-09-14T13:51:00.000-07:00

We've been toying with the notion of starting (and maintaining!) a blog for many months now. It seems like there is something we could share everyday - from seeing a wood duck on an easement, to the happenings at the Methow & Chewuch confluence outside our windows, to what went on at a recent county planning meeting. Many things happen - some important and some just really cool - in the month that passes between each E-News - and we know that many of you out there would love to get more updates from us (right??). So, here we go...launching ourselves into the world of blogging. We hope you'll enjoy what you read and comment and share as you wish!

A juvenile Wood Duck (okay, it's not the greatest photo but it was very cool to see a Wood Duck!)