Hazard Trees

One thing about working in dead forests is that there is a high risk of being struck by a falling tree.  All those millions of beetle killed trees that you've been hearing about for the past decade are going to fall down.  In fact, they are falling as I write.  (Do they fall soundlessly?)  Mostly they fall harmlessly, but they can pose a hazard to those who are working among them.  There are, of course, certain things that make it worse—wind, for example—but they can fall at any time, and without warning.

I made the photo of the Elk River, above, on a calm morning at 9:21:43 am.  I made the photo of the Elk River, below, on the same calm morning at 9:23:09 am.  In the 86 seconds between images, a tree fell—on the other river bank, fortunately—into my picture.  It was a dead lodgepole pine, and you can see it in the image below (framed in yellow).  It doesn't look very big, but if it hit you, it would likely be fatal.  The other thing to keep in mind is that the remaining live trees in the forest are almost never wind-firm, and that they will almost always blow-down, too.  (See, the top picture.)  So, whether the tree is live or dead, it presents a hazard to anyone in the forest.  Better that y'all just stay home until this whole issue, ahem, blows over.

Fruit Tree Tragedy

Our best pear tree broke today.  It was carrying a bumper crop of fruit on one of its branches, and the branch broke.  We had thinned the fruit, but probably not enough.  I had also tried to prop the branch with piece of wood.  It seemed like a solution, but I almost wonder if it didn't create a breaking point because the branch could no longer bend naturally.

In any case, it is very disappointing.  The garden has not done especially well this summer, but the fruit trees were looking great.  Now, we've probably lost a good portion of our pear crop.  We picked up all the developing pears and put them in a box just to see if some of them will ripen anyway, but it seems doubtful.  There were at least 60 pears.

Arborglyphs

Aspen tree carvings—or arborglyphs—are often common in the places where I work.  When a carving is especially interesting, I may stop to look and make a picture.  This week, for example, in Colorado's Park Range, I came across four carvings of naked women.  Two of them were by the same carver, and were so good that I had to photograph them.  (Now, Rural Ways is a family friendly blog, and by "good" I mean fluidly carved and realistic.  The image above has been edited for publication.)  I mentioned these to one of my colleagues, and he said that they are sheepherder carvings that have been recognized as an art form and cultural resource.  I googled it and found a fair amount of information about the carvings of Basque sheepherders in Nevada and California.  In Colorado, however, the sheep camps have traditionally been inhabited by Mexicans, and, if the final carving I found is a self-portrait, by South Americans.

Great Basin Gopher Snake

On Saturday, Ellen spotted a snake on The Homestead.  Valerie got a pretty good picture of it.  It looks like a Great Basin Gopher Snake (Pituophis catenifer deserticola) to me.  It is harmless to humans, but it should be hell on mice.  Between the snake and the cat, I expect to be rodent free around the garden.

View From the Office

We're working in the lodgepole this week, between Yampa and Kremmling, Colorado.  Most of the pines five inches in diameter and larger have been killed by the mountain pine beetle.  There is some nice looking spruce, and a few aspen clones, but much of the rest of it is fir.  We're not allowed to cut any green trees, so any treatments we prescribe will simply release the fir.  We call it the fir preservation and promotion project.