View from the Office

This week we were trying to reduce forest fuels in a steep-sided bowl called Big Cove.  The cover types in Big Cove are generally pinyon-juniper and mountain mahogany, though there are stringers of white fir and clumps of aspen.  While prescribed fire is usually thought of as small flames on flat ground, this project uses large flames on steep ground—the ignition is at the bottom of the slope and the terrain (along with some wind) is used to carry the fire through the stand.  These are "stand replacing" treatments, with, presumably, a diverse assemblage of woody shrubs, forbs, and grasses taking the place of the dense PJ or MM.

The picture, at top, which I made, shows the white, puffy smoke of the dying fire mixing with the white, puffy clouds in the sky.  I kind of like the effect.  The picture, middle, was made by a colleague and it shows the same area, but at an earlier moment, while the fire was at its hottest.  The reason I didn't make the middle picture is because, as the final picture (below) shows, sometimes I get out from behind the camera to do some work.

Momentary Lapse of Reason

When I saw the truck parked like that, it made me nervous.  It was wedged up into a little brushy wash, and there was no one in it.  It could only mean that someone was on foot, up the wash.  I'd been up there, but I was the only one.  Nobody else walks, especially if it looks to be a bit of a thrashing.  Besides, there was a Pink Floyd bumper sticker.  I'm not kidding.  This did not strike me as normal.

After a bit of a hike myself, I picked up EDO and we idled back down the canyon.  The other truck was gone.  That made me feel better.  But, then, up ahead, I saw it pull out of a little dispersed camp where it had been parked.  The truck went down the road and then the brake lights came on.  It backed up and stopped.  A guy got out, walked over into the brush, picked up a plastic jug, crushed it, and threw it into the back of his vehicle.  The guy was of average size and appearance.  Nothing too strange, though he did have a muddy streak down the back of his pants.  He noticed us and jumped into his rig.  Down he went.

I pulled up to the little dispersed site and looked over.  It was clean.  There was no trash.  The guy had cleaned up all the trash.  You know:  When you're out camping and you finish the two liter bottle of Coke, you just drop it on the ground.  Cans.  Plastic bags.  Dirty diapers.  Yep.  Just throw that shit on the ground.  That's how you do it.

The place had been a mess.  I drove by it last week and shook my head.  A dump.  But this guy had just cleaned it up.  He wasn't wearing a uniform.  He wasn't on duty.  He simply stopped and picked up the trash.  Like Jesus.  Nothing in it for him.  Like Gandhi.  The Trash Gandhi.  Now that really makes me nervous.  A guy who walks and picks up trash.  Not normal at all.

Going, Going, Go . . .

The picture, above, was made in 1941, nearly 75 years ago.  At the upper left, where the arrow indicates, a few tufted pine needles are visible.  Those needles were growing on a ponderosa pine tree that  germinated in 1885.  The reason I know the species and its germination date is because the tree is still growing.  Though perhaps not for long.

When I went up Center Creek a couple weeks ago and hiked through the last few snow drifts to this location, I noticed that the tree was leaning (green arrow).  It is being undermined by the creek and could tip over at any time.  In fact, the ground is starting to bulge upward on the dry side due to a lifting of the root ball.

I decided that I'd better collect some data before it toppled into the creek, so I measured its height (78 ft), diameter (25 in), and age (~130 years).  I used those numbers to estimate its size 75 years ago (53 ft/17 in).  Interestingly, based on the growth rings that I measured from a couple of cores, the tree had achieved 68% of its present growth by 1941.

Park City

We don't usually ski the groomed runs, but today was the day for it.  Everything else was too sticky.  A nice day, but warm.  We had a good group, starting with five and adding Jimmy for a sixth.  Later in the day we took a lap through Jupe; it was picturesque, but the conditions weren't great.  So we worked our way back to Crescent for a couple of creamy runs on Silver Skis.  Very fine.  More.

ZNP

I thoroughly dislike Zion.  It attracts the biggest crowds I've ever seen.  Which I don't really understand.  I mean, it is a nice enough looking place, but how can it be fun to sit in traffic all day?  I have banned it from my life.  Except for yesterday.  When a friend from the east coast comes all the way to Utah and wants to see Zion, I guess you have to go.  Actually, we had a good day.  We were able to fight off the crowds and found ourselves in a very pretty little wash.  Ponderosa pine, sandstone pools, the call of the wren.  We walked past the end of the footprints and had the canyon to ourselves.  I couldn't even hear the traffic.  A few pictures.

Signs of Spring

I know that there have been some recent posts about winter, but it is also spring.  Which is to say that things change from day to day.  This afternoon the sun was out strongly and I went up along Center Creek for an hour.  At 7500 feet the willows were blooming.  A lady bug landed on my hand.  I fired the camera once, but it was focused on the mud.  The lady flew.

Another Five Inches

I planted another fruit tree in the orchard yesterday—a Stella cherry.  It came from the nursery with buds on it, but they have not popped yet.  Nor, for that matter, have any of the fruit trees.  They are all holding off.  And this picture provides the reason:  We've had a nice little blast of winter as March turns to April.  If you dislike summer as much as I do, it is always good to have the march to hell slowed by a pleasant five-inches of snow.