Well, the hiking guidebook I borrowed did say it was a popular trail!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Quartz Latite Slopes
Road to Trailhead
The hike started a little early when the road to the trailhead came to an abrupt end.
Weekend Highlight: Crows Peak Trail
This seven-mile hike alone was worth the trip to the Black Hills. It was a scorching day though and progress was initially quite slow until a refreshing creek provided some relief. The last 1.5 miles to the summit felt longer somehow – perhaps it was the still air, which thankfully flowed freely at the summit. We were even treated to an acrobatic show by a half dozen turkey vultures, on a trail of their own for an apparently scrumptious supper.
Paha Sapa
Paha sapa is the Lakota name for the Black Hills, so named for the lush dark green foliage of pine trees that look darkly black in the distance
Walking the Land
Hiking can provide a particularly intimate sense of place, and in this southwest corner of South Dakota, a wealth of trails abound. On my first break, I camped with friends at Spearfish Canyon in the northern Black Hills, venturing on some memorable hikes, and relishing the stark contrast in landscapes.
Hiking the Badlands & the Black Hills is Night + Day … and still, just two hours between them.
Hiking the Badlands & the Black Hills is Night + Day … and still, just two hours between them.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Combing for Fleas
Once in the jar, a dose of ISO knocks them out, making them much more pliable subjects.
Coaxing PD into Jar
Sharp blowing and well-placed tapping shoos the PD into the jar, typically with much protestations.
Pillowcase Maneuver
From the trap and into a plastic jar, with a backup pillowcase just in case the sneaky bugger gets by the mouth of the jar.
Tools of the Trade
Kit essentials: cotton balls, flea comb, tweezers, vials, measuring tape, clippers, ear tags and ear tagger(?), blood strips, and makeshift mask for minimal re-dosing of anesthesia to keep PD woozy during processing (top of a soda bottle, half a rubber glove + cotton ball)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
The ins and outs of Interior
I have a new definition for ‘small town America’… it’s called Interior - Population: 67. As some of my former colleagues were quick to point out, an average NYC subway car easily carries 100 pax, or more during peak hours. The place to hang out was the gas station (last year, it was the only place with internet access) – but don’t fill your tank here, because gas is almost $4 a gallon (yep, the $4 milestones hasn’t reached here yet, and my last $4+ gallon top-up was Pennsylvania). Rapid City, about 1.5 hours away, is the best option for groceries and entertainment, though in a pinch, Wall Drug is a mere 20 minutes away. Wall Drug is a South Dakota institution – I’ll tell you more about it when I visit – but it’s certainly peaked my interest. There were only about 80 Wall Drug billboards between Sioux Falls and here, mixed in with other ‘lifestyle’ messages, including anti-animal activists, pro-life, hunting, Harley’s, etc.
This isn’t Kansas anymore … it’s Kansas on steroids.
This isn’t Kansas anymore … it’s Kansas on steroids.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Badlands – at last!
South Dakota and me are going to get along just fine.
It’s stunning here – rugged and starkly beautiful. There was an amazing lightning storm to greet my first night. And rains made our first day in the field a bit of a mud fest. Today was an orientation day – we learned the ropes. And it looks like they’re easing us into things … we started at a civilized 8:30 AM, though in my trailer, somehow all four of us forgot to change our clocks to mountain time, so we were ready to go by 7:30 AM instead.
We worked Plot 2 and Plot 3 today (there are six 4-hectare plots total), laying out 90 traps at each plot (10 traps per person, per plot + extra if you finish up first). These were Tomahawk traps, and we learned to set them up, and bait them. Also how to tell if a prairie dog burrow is active, namely by looking for fresh scat and signs of recent digging. Bait is oats mixed with peanut butter to weigh down the oats so it doesn't blow away. For now, we’re not actually leaving the traps open, rather getting the prairie dogs used to having them around. And giving them a chance to develop a taste for our bait.
We worked from 8:30 AM through 2:30 PM, had an hour lunch break, and then watched an hour-long documentary about prairie dog ecology. Some interesting facts: each family can have up to 50 feet of burrows underground; families are incredibly territorial but will allow interlopers if there are predators around; each family has a sentry that calls out if there’s any sign of danger; prairie dogs have a sophisticated language communicated in yips and barks; they identify humans individually (I have yet to figure out my name in prairie dog lingo); the “all clear” signal is an exuberant yip with head and neck thrown back and front paws to the sky.
Tomorrow is more theory than practical … plague facts, three hours of driver’s education (ugh!) to ensure we don’t wreck our two 4x4 trucks.
It has been unexpectedly cool here in the mornings and evenings, with strong, strong winds that lightly rock our trailers. It’ll be fun times at our next major storm.
It’s stunning here – rugged and starkly beautiful. There was an amazing lightning storm to greet my first night. And rains made our first day in the field a bit of a mud fest. Today was an orientation day – we learned the ropes. And it looks like they’re easing us into things … we started at a civilized 8:30 AM, though in my trailer, somehow all four of us forgot to change our clocks to mountain time, so we were ready to go by 7:30 AM instead.
We worked Plot 2 and Plot 3 today (there are six 4-hectare plots total), laying out 90 traps at each plot (10 traps per person, per plot + extra if you finish up first). These were Tomahawk traps, and we learned to set them up, and bait them. Also how to tell if a prairie dog burrow is active, namely by looking for fresh scat and signs of recent digging. Bait is oats mixed with peanut butter to weigh down the oats so it doesn't blow away. For now, we’re not actually leaving the traps open, rather getting the prairie dogs used to having them around. And giving them a chance to develop a taste for our bait.
We worked from 8:30 AM through 2:30 PM, had an hour lunch break, and then watched an hour-long documentary about prairie dog ecology. Some interesting facts: each family can have up to 50 feet of burrows underground; families are incredibly territorial but will allow interlopers if there are predators around; each family has a sentry that calls out if there’s any sign of danger; prairie dogs have a sophisticated language communicated in yips and barks; they identify humans individually (I have yet to figure out my name in prairie dog lingo); the “all clear” signal is an exuberant yip with head and neck thrown back and front paws to the sky.
Tomorrow is more theory than practical … plague facts, three hours of driver’s education (ugh!) to ensure we don’t wreck our two 4x4 trucks.
It has been unexpectedly cool here in the mornings and evenings, with strong, strong winds that lightly rock our trailers. It’ll be fun times at our next major storm.
Pre-lightning storm
A grand welcome on the first evening - a pair of complete rainbows (could only catch the one on the camera)
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Road scenes
From the road … somewhere between the ‘world’s largest bulls head’ sculpture and the authentic 1880’s western town, as seen in ‘Dances with Wolves.’
Sunday, June 8, 2008
The Seventh Inning Stretch
On Thursday morning, when I pulled into the FDR North on my way out of Manhattan, my odometer clicked to ‘100’ – I had officially logged my first 100 miles on my new car. It’s Sunday evening, and my odometer now reads ‘1561' miles. Just another 200+ miles to go. It’s been a sweet ride.
I have inadvertently become a storm chaser, or maybe I should say a storm runner, as in running away from tornados, gusty winds and lighting storms that have plagued Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and eastern Minnesota. It’s made for some interesting driving for this not-terribly-experienced driver, listening to the National Weather Service make repeated emergency announcements for tornado watches, and wondering what in the world you are supposed to freakin’ do if you actually saw one.
I made good time on my first two days, landing up in the town of Rockford in northern Illinois on Friday evening. So I gave myself a day off on Saturday, by joining a local Wisconsin group for National Trails Day. As members of the Ice Age Park & Trail Foundation, they were making an effort to have volunteers and hikers walk every inch of this 1,000-mile trail on that single day. It was good to get off the Interstate and walk 10 miles with a friendly group of locals, even if they were just a little puzzled how this visitor landed up in their midst.
Driving through Minnesota is a horizon-expanding experience – quite literally. It’s all sky. Who needs television here … spoken like a true non-resident, of course! I did my first touristy thing today by visiting the Pipestone National Monument, a tiny little place where they start the A/V presentation when you are ready and settled in (you know, because you’re the only one who seems vaguely interested). Turned out that I stumbled on a stop that is popular among RV-ers, all of whom were behind schedule, and I’d be willing to bet they were either coming from or were going to visit the world’s largest twine ball in Darwin, MN.
My first solo roadtrip is coming to a close. And already I know this isn’t going to be my last. Life’s too short to do this just once.
I have inadvertently become a storm chaser, or maybe I should say a storm runner, as in running away from tornados, gusty winds and lighting storms that have plagued Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and eastern Minnesota. It’s made for some interesting driving for this not-terribly-experienced driver, listening to the National Weather Service make repeated emergency announcements for tornado watches, and wondering what in the world you are supposed to freakin’ do if you actually saw one.
I made good time on my first two days, landing up in the town of Rockford in northern Illinois on Friday evening. So I gave myself a day off on Saturday, by joining a local Wisconsin group for National Trails Day. As members of the Ice Age Park & Trail Foundation, they were making an effort to have volunteers and hikers walk every inch of this 1,000-mile trail on that single day. It was good to get off the Interstate and walk 10 miles with a friendly group of locals, even if they were just a little puzzled how this visitor landed up in their midst.
Driving through Minnesota is a horizon-expanding experience – quite literally. It’s all sky. Who needs television here … spoken like a true non-resident, of course! I did my first touristy thing today by visiting the Pipestone National Monument, a tiny little place where they start the A/V presentation when you are ready and settled in (you know, because you’re the only one who seems vaguely interested). Turned out that I stumbled on a stop that is popular among RV-ers, all of whom were behind schedule, and I’d be willing to bet they were either coming from or were going to visit the world’s largest twine ball in Darwin, MN.
My first solo roadtrip is coming to a close. And already I know this isn’t going to be my last. Life’s too short to do this just once.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Rockin’ Weekends
I thought he was joking. I had shown up for a ‘stone splitting’ workshop, and Matt was going through the motions. First you choose a rock – a nice half ton piece of granite with a flat side that would make a great step. Then you use a rifting hammer and sledgehammer to mark a line where you would like the stone to crack, then drill some evenly-spaced holes along this line, drop in some feathers and wedges, and whack the heck out of it with a 10 lb sledge. “Now, form groups of three and split your own steps.”
The idea that anyone would let me – the New Yorker – wield a sledgehammer, rock bar, and rock drill (and later still, the very cool pick-mattock), would ordinarily lead me to question one’s judgment. My unlikely trio included Ron, a retired fireman, and Hector, who worked in plumbing out in Long Island. We split rock that Saturday – in fact, we split several, producing about six steps that currently weave through a tricky boulder field, which is part of an ambitious 3-mile reroute (with some 600+ rock steps) of the Appalachian Trail in Bear Mountain State Park.
“Next week, we’ll teach you how to move giant boulders with rock bar – it’s a game of inches (centimeters would be more accurate) – and how to position and set stone steps along a hiking trail.” They call it Trail University; my sis prefers weekend prison labor camp.
It’s seriously hands-on, hard, slow work. And unlike anything I’ve ever done in my life. But I’ve spent far too many weekends in front of the tv, surfing the web, or vegging out in some form or other. I cannot tell you what I did in Spring ‘07, ‘06, or ‘05… but this Spring, I found a new love in trail building.
The trail is a few years away yet – many more steps to lay, crib walls to build, and hours-upon-hours of crush fill therapy (breaking down larger rocks into smaller pieces with rock hammers and sledges). And when you make it up to New York next, I’ll walk you along the trail that I played a tiny part in building. It’ll outlive you and me both … not bad for a weekend’s work.
The idea that anyone would let me – the New Yorker – wield a sledgehammer, rock bar, and rock drill (and later still, the very cool pick-mattock), would ordinarily lead me to question one’s judgment. My unlikely trio included Ron, a retired fireman, and Hector, who worked in plumbing out in Long Island. We split rock that Saturday – in fact, we split several, producing about six steps that currently weave through a tricky boulder field, which is part of an ambitious 3-mile reroute (with some 600+ rock steps) of the Appalachian Trail in Bear Mountain State Park.
“Next week, we’ll teach you how to move giant boulders with rock bar – it’s a game of inches (centimeters would be more accurate) – and how to position and set stone steps along a hiking trail.” They call it Trail University; my sis prefers weekend prison labor camp.
It’s seriously hands-on, hard, slow work. And unlike anything I’ve ever done in my life. But I’ve spent far too many weekends in front of the tv, surfing the web, or vegging out in some form or other. I cannot tell you what I did in Spring ‘07, ‘06, or ‘05… but this Spring, I found a new love in trail building.
The trail is a few years away yet – many more steps to lay, crib walls to build, and hours-upon-hours of crush fill therapy (breaking down larger rocks into smaller pieces with rock hammers and sledges). And when you make it up to New York next, I’ll walk you along the trail that I played a tiny part in building. It’ll outlive you and me both … not bad for a weekend’s work.
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