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Something cool about having such a clear view of such great distances is the ability to observe rain showers from far away. Above is a panorama of an overcast day when thunder and lightning passed within a mile or two north of the tower. In North Carolina, you're boxed in enough to only really see a thunderstorm when it's coming right down on you. Out here, even while on the ground without a lot of prominence, you can see them for quite a ways.

Another thing that I hadn't seen before coming out west was virga, a phenomenon in which rain evaporates before it hits the ground, giving the appearance of veils of rain hanging below clouds. In the above photos, you can see that a decent amount of rain still hits the ground (on account of the relatively high humidity we've had) but there are streaks that don't quite make it.

While we're on weather, I was caught in a quick hailstorm that evening while headed back to the station. Over and done in about 10 minutes, it left the ground looking like snow had fallen.

Mojave pricklypoppy (Argemone corymbosa, Papaveraceae) started coming into bloom today and it shows up alongside the road on my commute.

A splash of colour that has come into bloom over the past week or so comes from purple sage (Salvia dorrii, Lamiaceae), which starts to show up as you get higher up the mountain towards the lookout.

Our old friend desert evening-primose (Oenothera caespitosa, Onagraceae) persists and has started to fully line the road.

Here's a bright bloom with a fun name, Arizona firecracker (Ipomopsis arizonica, Polemoniacead). It has started to pop up here and there in some of the lower areas of the drive to Ella Mountain, often a bit aways from the side of the road.

The Arizona firecrackers hang out in the same spot near the ponderosas as these firecracker penstemon (Penstemon eatonii, Plantaginaceae).

The prickly pear cacti (Opuntia spp.) are also coming out in full force, I've seen yellows, magentas, and reds along the road up to the tower.

Here's a small creature feature on some of the moving things I've seen over the past week.

This isn't the first rattlesnake I've seen but it is the first I had a chance to photograph.

I believe it's a Mojave green rattlesnake (Crotalus scutulatus for the herp people), but had trouble given the fact that my photographs didn't get clearer photos of the tail, head, or colouration. That, paired with the fact that there are six different rattlesnake species in Nevada, five of which hang around the southern corner of the state around where Caliente is, gave me some trouble as I'm used to keying things that don't move (or bite).

Hopefully these photos suffice since I didn't want to get out of the truck for a closer shot.

Once again in the Barnes Canyon burn scar I saw wild horses. I have been able to spot them pretty reliably when I take that route, sometimes up to a half dozen at a time.

Taking a look at these burn scars, it's interesting to note how these areas look similar to the ghost forests on the U.S. Atlantic Coast, yet these are almost a welcome sight as they are a sign of reintroduction of fire to an area (if unintentional) and the proliferation of wildflowers, sagebrush, and other scrub species on a site that was once strictly piñon-juniper.

Last up on the creature feature is... a gorilla! I'll be honest that this fella gave me a spook the first time I noticed him.

Smokey Bear – I Work With a Celebrity

2023.06.08

We were in Ely for the district-wide orientation this week (two days of death by powerpoint), and while in the district office I noticed a wall of old Smokey Bear art.

Below are all of the frames I could photograph (phone quality, sorry). Most people I've talked to agree that Smokey art is decent at best and creepy at worst. I suggest you look at each of the following pictures individually in a new tab to get a feel for some typical Smokey posters.

Talking to people in Forestry and Fire, you get the understanding that quite a bit of harm was done with his initial messaging back in the day, particularly in terms of fire's place in the landscape (partly backtracked in the wording of his messaging). To quote one friend: "He killed America's Forests!".

What I mean by harmful messaging is the general dislike of fire that arose that has ties to Smokey Bear messaging – fire has a place and a history on virtually every landscape and every ecosystem on the planet. Whether it's an area that burns annually or near-annually or one that is touched by fire once every 10,000 years, fire is a common form of disturbance that has both non-anthropogenic and anthropogenic histories around the world.

Many will agree that Smokey Bear has been the most effective piece of American propaganda ever, and I don't think that's too far off the mark for the longest-running public service announcement in U.S. history. The official Smokey Bear website has the history of the campaign, but the short of it was that during WWII, the U.S. Forest Service was looking to increase public awareness of fire to prevent wildfires before they happened due to the fact that the regular cohort of foresters and firefighters were overseas fighting in the war. Wildfires at home would pull resources away from the war so stopping them before they even happened was a top priority, and after the use of the newly-released Bambi was a success, the U.S. Forest Service brought Smokey Bear into the picture on August 9, 1944.

Since then, his message has been spread far and wide (including actual bear cubs) which has resulted in one of the most recognizable American icons, next to Uncle Sam and the Statue of Liberty. You may notice that in all of the above paintings, his message is the same "Prevent Forest Fires" (an important distinction from wildfires). Smokey's message led to a negative perception of fire in any form on the landscape, and people unaware of fire's necessary role as a disturbance tend to view it as something to be prevented. More recently, Smokey's messaging has switched to "Prevent Wildfires", but people I've talked to agree that the damage has been done. To many, the separation of unintended fires and prescribed burns is weak, and fire is fire.

That is not to say that the current rising trend of high-intensity scorched earth fires is what current or historic plant communities need (thanks climate change), but a reduction of fuels is important for helping undo over a century of damage caused by suppression of fire and fuels buildup, a suite of practices that changed as a result of the 1988 Yellowstone fires (among other things). So yes, there many of us who can see the damage that fire suppression has done and the Sisyphean task that is reintroducing less-intense and more frequent fire to landscapes that are essentially covered in gasoline that are within an increasingly blurred wildland-urban interface. We see this challenge and how Smokey Bear has helped create this can of worms, but we also can't help but gravitate towards him as an icon.

As I wrote, there has been a change in his messaging and an understanding that fire is part of the landscape, but it should be done so intentionally by professionals (hence the continued messaging against unintentional and careless burns). Still, I really like the hokey-ness of Smokey as a character and didn't realize how much Smokey memorabilia I actually had until now. Among friends and colleagues (many of whom share the sentiments I wrote above), I've seen shirts, patches, mugs, pins, posters, magnets, license plates, you name it. It's hard to hate Smokey, it seems, and I hold little grudge against him personally for past transgressions. Below are some of the paraphenalia I've seen and photographed.

If you don't believe me about how people in ecology gravitate towards Smokey, I had to bid $50 at an auction on the framed poster in the third image (Grand Old Forest) against several other people to win it.

Moving on from some of the Smokey merch, I'll get into Smokey as an image today. Smokey Bear is still an active campaign by the U.S. Forest Service and his image is protected by U.S. Federal Law to deter misuse of him and to prevent damage or dilution of his image. Our office has a Smokey Bear costume that comes out occasionally (Memorial Day, Fourth of July, local sporting events), and it's only a matter of time before I don the Smokey costume. When he's not in use, he is kept locked (yes, locked) in a blue bin in the office of the person responsible for the Smokey costume here in the station.

When it's time for Smokey to come out, he's laid out for an hour or more to air out, then he's donned by that day's wearer before being properly fit and groomed, all before he even steps outside for a public appearance. The costume includes the head with hat, the full suit itself, padding, an ice pack vest, gloves, and feet. It was an interesting morning coming out to find Smokey in pieces on the dining table.

Funnily enough, this isn't the first Smokey costume I've seen, though he appears to be a newer version of one I've met not once but twice at the U.S. Forest Service Mountain Training Facility in Crossnore, North Carolina.

But when they're all dressed up and groomed, Smokey is ready to make an appearance. There are lots of rules that Smokey must follow when making a public appearance (outlined here), which causes the station's Smokey costume manager to sweat bullets any time Smokey is out of the box. You can see the nervousness on his face as he makes sure everything is up to snuff and there are no mishaps with the furry friend. Smokey has to be accompanied by a handler/wrangler, both to talk for Smokey and to make sure he doesn't fall over as visibility and movement are limited in the suit.

At public events, we hand out Smokey Bear goodie bags to anyone who wants them as a way to spread awareness, and Smokey usually gives lots of high fives, hugs, and photo opporunities. I managed to nab a bag this past week to show the contents.

Here's a closeup of the pin, which immediately went on my hat.

So that's a semi-brief rundown on Smokey and my opinion on him, which is shared by many others in ecology. He can be a little divisive within this group but many agree that the hokeyness of him is great despite issues with his past messaging and the public's perception of fire as a direct or indirect result of that. Either way, I'll keep being a Smokey Bear fan (and keep wearing a campaign hat for botanizing – I started doing so because of the bear).

The Osborne Fire Finder

2023.06.11

This morning I spotted my first two smoke columns within half an hour of each other which led to a busy morning in the district when compared to what we've been seeing. Unfortunately the two fires were small enough that our engine crew back at the station still had to go to their review (something they have been prepping for and wanting to be over for a few weeks now). I figured now is as good a time as ever to give a rundown on the Osborne Fire Finder.

The Osborne Fire Finder is the centerpiece of most any staffed fire lookout tower and serves as a way to locate a fire with a high degree of accuracy. Invented by William Osborne and first put into service in 1915, the fire finder essentially acts as a compass to give direction and estimated distance relative to the fire tower.

In the above photo you can see that the fire finder is made up of a circular disk with a topographical map of the area centered around the lookout tower. The radius of the disk is roughly equivalent to the operational range of the tower so if you can see it, it should be able to be located on the map. If not, there are a number of topographical maps of the surrounding area I can use for further aid.

These topo maps have a scale of 1:100,000 and are an excellent resource for really looking at the landscape. The above photo of the spread is from when I was making that cheat sheet for peak names around the tower.

So how does one call in a fire with the Osborne Fire Finder?

You should have noticed these two vertical sighting apertures on either side of the disk. One is a brass plate with angles of elevation change and a slit in the center, and the other is largely empty with a set of crosshairs strung inside. They are aligned in such a way that when looking through the slit on the brass plate, you can see and line up your sight with the crosshairs, with a sliding tab that can account for change in elevation from the observer's point of view in the tower.

These apertures are mounted on a ring that sits outside the topographic map disk that spins freely, meaning if you spot a fire you can spin the Fire Finder until you can view it directly through the sighting apertures. The spinning ring rests on a graduated ring and is marked with degrees, with 0° being a sightline directly North of the tower.

When you have your sights lined up to your fire, the reading you get is your azimuth, and this is a very accurate measure of direction of the fire from the tower. If you happen to shoot an azimuth that lines up with a window frame, the door, etc., you can move the entire apparatus to try and get a better view. The stand on which it rests has two sets of rails that can be used to slide the Fire Finder back and forth if you need to make an adjustment, and it has negligible effect on the final reading.

You may recall that this is the sole staffed lookout tower in the state of Nevada, and that may make you wonder how distance and location can be accurately determined without a second azimuth to intersect the first and pinpoint the location of the reading. It's true that in the past, or in areas where multiple towers have overlapping operational ranges, intersection is used – triangulation isn't necessary because unlike cellular towers that use time as a way to gauge distance, when you shoot an azimuth you already have a direction and only need one intersecting reading.

As such, distance is a bit more relative when using one tower and that's where knowledge of the surrounding landscape and the ability to parse topographical maps comes in handy. We can use the smoke columns I spotted this morning as an example.

Can you spot the two fires in these photos? I promise they're there, each photo has one smoke column.

I'm sure now you can see where the fun of this job comes from...

So the first thing to do is line the smoke up in our sights and get our azimuth. When we have that, we can start to estimate distance. First, you look at surrounding geographic features that are known to see what neighbourhood the smoke is in. In this case (the above images on the left) it was southeast of Grey Dome (a.k.a. Sugarloaf, seen in the top left of the photo), which we know is 17 miles away from the tower. From there, we have an idea of the neighbourhood in which to look on the topo map (again, this is where ability to read them comes in handy).

After looking on the topo map on the Fire Finder, we deduce it's south of U.S. 93 using local landmarks and the general shape of the land. Below you can see Grey Dome in the top left of the image, the lookout in the bottom right (blue circle), and U.S. 93 highlighted in yellow. We know it's somewhere south of the highway on an azimuth that shoots from the tower to just east of Grey Dome (white line).

While this is already a pretty good estimate, we can get more specific using township, range, and section. Here is the National Wildfire Coordinating Group's page on townships, ranges, and sections, but the short version is that it's a grid system on which to pinpoint a fire.

You can see in the above image that along the grids on the map are labels such as "T9S", "T10S", "R70E", "R69E". These are your Townships (changing with latitude) and your Ranges. Each overlapping square of any given township and range is 36 square miles.

To get more specific within that 36 square mile area, you use this little plastic square to determine what section the fire is in. The section snakes from the top right to the bottom right, and each square on this plastic card is one square mile. From there, you can give further division by "corners" – you have your four corners (northwest, northeast, southwest, southeast), and your corners of the corners (northeast corner of the southwest corner) for a final division of 1/16th of a square mile.

This level of division can be helpful but isn't always needed, as anyone coming up on the fire should be able to see it if you can get them down to the nearest square mile. Our district tends to send both an engine and a helicopter when they can and if I can see it, the helicopter can see it. Dispatch has the exact same map and grid as the tower and they will take the township, range, and section you provide to convert it into coordinates that resources can simply plug into a GPS for quick navigation.

So using the info we just gathered on that first smoke report, we can fill out this smoke report sheet. While all of the information is necessary, the near-exact location can be obtained with just the township, range, and section. In the case of the fire we just shot, it's R66E, T4S, Section 19. When you have all of that information, you fill out this sheet and call it into dispatch, basically reading down the sheet as you go along. From there, the radio becomes a beehive as dispatch calls different resources to go and get on whatever it is that you've called in.

With all of that information, happy hunting!

Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks

2023.06.13 - 2023.06.14

We started seven day staffing which means a 12-on two-off schedule for each person. I had two days off and managed to get another pass to hike Angel's Landing so I went to Zion for Tuesday morning and then headed to Bryce Canyon for the rest of the afternoon and most of the day Wednesday.

I already have posts on Zion and Angel's Landing so I'll keep it brief before moving onto Bryce Canyon.

Angel's Landing was a real treat this time because I was the second person up the chains but the first person to the actual overlook, where I had it to myself for a good ten to fifteen minutes. Starting early and going steadily up is definitely the way to go if you just want to feel the wind and soak in the canyon.

You can see how the grass can be problematic as it starts to cure. This is why a lot of people are suggesting a busy season towards the middle or end of the summer (and hey, the Fourth of July is only three weeks away).

A stop to see the three patriarchs and then a quick view through a (heavily filtered) telescope near the visitor's center to look at the sun before I took on the Watchman's trail again.

Here are some cool geology shots for my friend Garett to look at and hopefully tell me what is going on here.

The above plant is skunkbush sumac (Rhus trilobata, Anacardiaceae), which I didn't even notice in flower the last times I was here.

After the hike, I stopped by the visitor's center for some postcards, a stamp on my passport, and an interagency annual pass to access parks, national monuments, national forests, etc. It is an excellent value at $80 (and it has already paid for itself considering every time I've gone to a national park this summer I've snuck in before the gates opened and didn't have to pay...).

From the visitor's center, I took Highway 9 northeast up and out of Zion, including through the 1.1 mile Zion-Mount Carmel tunnel (no photographs while driving). Driving through that canyon out of the northeast of Zion really feels like you're going through canyons on another planet. The landscape was surreal and the path winding, and it was a very cool drive that had me stopping at every turnout or overlook I passed.

Bryce Canyon Park

I made it to Bryce Canyon in the mid-afternoon and had time to stop at the visitor's center and get a decent hike in. I was recommended given the time that the rim trail from Bryce Point to Sunrise Point would be an excellent place to start, especially as a first-time visitor.

The entire ride up to Bryce Point is deceiving. The park roads are situated on the rim to the west of the canyon itself, and while riding on the roads you wouldn't guess that there is a national park-worthy canyon within a hundred meters of you. The dominant trees are ponderosa pines and it feels almost like driving through a longleaf pine community back east.

Don't miss this panorama from Bryce Point! Zoom in in another tab and take a peek, to have that be my first view of the canyon was truly nutty. From Bryce Point I hiked to Sunrise Point, just under 3 miles of relatively-level trail.

This first plant on the upper rim of the canyon is showy stoneseed (Lithospermum incisum, Boraginaceae), distinguished by the frilly edges of its petals.

Another feature that makes it feel like you're in a longleaf pine forest is the presence of ericaceous shrubs! This one is greenleaf manzanita (Arctostaphylos patula, Ericaceae) and is incredibly common in the understory of the forests on the rim of the canyon.

Another yellow fellow is western wallflower (Erysimum capitatum var. purshii, Brassicaceae), which grows in nice patches under the trees.

Speaking of trees, there's a good mix! You'll find ponderosa (Pinus ponderosa, Pinaceae), whose bark smells like butterscotch here rather than vanilla. Above is piñon pine (Pinus edulis, Pinaceae), whose seeds are quite large and are edible (you'll see them as pine nuts).

You'll also find Rocky Mountain Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii var. glauca, Pinaceae), and the photos above show great basin bristlecone pine (Pinus longaeva, Pinaceae), a first time spot for me! I've been eager to find this plant since coming to this neck of the woods and while these aren't the oldest batch of trees, I hope to see them soon.
Note how the needles are in bundles of five - this is a trait that the white pines have, meaning this pine is a relative of our own eastern white pine (Pinus strobus, Pinaceae) in North Carolina.

The above flower is bitterweed (Tetraneuris scaposa, Asteraceae), and it grew right up the edge of the canyon.

Another food blog moment: I stopped at the Bryce Canyon Lodge for dinner before catching the shuttle out of the park and am glad I did. It was a bit more expensive than the restaurant at Zion Lodge but the food was excellent and it was a nice sit-down experience. Through a happy accident my dessert was served first but it was just what I needed after a full day of hiking.

From there, it was a short drive to USFS land for a night of car camping.

2023.06.14

I woke up very early to drive up to Rainbow Point but before doing that I stopped to watch the sunrise at Sunrise Point. I had maybe three minutes of sunlight before the sun ducked behind the clouds for the rest of the morning, so I certainly made it at just the right time.

From there I drove along the scene drive up to Rainbow Point to do the Bristlecone Loop, and it was along this hike that I stood at the highest elevation I ever have before.

The air is definitely rare up here.

Here's a new one as well - white fir (Abies concolor, Pinaceae). You can see the circular "suckers" where the leaves attach to the stem, a trait common amongst firs. Something you can see in the bottom photo is the presence of large blisters along the stem as it gets larger but before the bark shags over. These blisters hold resin and can be popped (onto your hiking companion if you can aim it right).

While we're looking at leaf attachment in conifers, I mentioned that pines (great basin bristlecone pine above left) have "bundles", which are known as fascicles, where the leaves attach to the stem. Douglas-fir (above right) leaves have a small petiole, or stalk, where they attach to the leaves.

Some of these bristlecone pines were gnarly, but unfortunately many of the ones in this form were dead. I'm not sure what stressor killed them.

There was evidence of fire on one side of the trail, and these ponderosas tell the story there.

Here are some geology tidbits, a freebie for Garett.

On the way down from Rainbow Point, I stopped at some of the scenic overlooks. Natural Bridge is one such stop, and if you look to the left side of the photo you can see...

Quaking aspen (Populus tremuloides, Salicaceae)! Look at those eyeball branch scars, I can only imagine what it's like to walk through an entire grove of them.

Another burn scar on the west side of the scenic drive.

As we get back closer to the visitor's center, you can see piles of slash/downed plant material every so often. These are set up with the intent to burn them individually in the winter when snow is on the ground to prevent the spread of fire. This is a way to use fire as a management tool to reduce the amount of fuels on the ground in areas where broadcast burning is harder to due for fear of spreading.

I drove out of the park to the shuttle station to catch a ride back in, where I went to the Lodge once again before starting the day's hikes.

The hike for the day was the Queens Garden - Navajo Trail combined loop. I took my time going through and it was wonderful to go into the canyon I had only viewed from above so far. Here are some of the photos from the hike, presented without much comment.

Bryce Canyon is famous for its phenomenal geologic structures called "hoodoos", which means to "bewitch". Hoodoos are formed as water and wind erode the soft sandstone, and Bryce Canyon has the highest density and abundance of hoodoos in the world.

Here is a cousin of one back in North Carolina, blue elderberry (Sambucus caerulea, Adoxaceae). Complete with celery-stalk petioles and all.

And here is what should be blue spruce (Picea pungens), Pinaceae) just hanging out in some of the low areas near a wash in the canyon.

A quick comparison between a Douglas-fir, ponderosa pine, and juniper bark.

I can only imagine the thud this boulder make as it fell and landed, fracturing where it is today.

As you head up the canyon again on the Navajo trail, you find Douglas-firs! I'm amazed at how large they are (I'm standing next to one!) and how they come right out of the rock.

I was asked why you shouldn't build cairns, especially in rivers or near bodies of water. Lots of little critters like to live and hang out under rocks, and building cairns takes away that real estate from them and it is a sort of signal to others that it's okay to manipulate the area.

When you do the combined loop of Queens Garden and the Navajo Trail, you have to choose one side of the Navajo trail to go up. I decided to do just the Navajo loop one more time to see both sides.

I nearly lost my hat to a wind gust before taking the above photo.

All day I was looking forward to trying Valhalla pizza only to walk up and find they were closed! A bummer, so I stopped into the lodge once again for lunch. Between the Zion and the Bryce Canyon visitor centers I had a hefty stack of postcards that needed to be written (if you'd like one, let me know!).

After writing some at lunch, I spent some time writing the rest of the postcards on the rim of the canyon before sitting for a bit and taking one last look. It was a nice way to spend an hour, and with a stack of 25 stamped and addressed, I headed towards the visitor's center to mail them before leaving.

I'll spend a little time gushing about the shuttle system here. While the shuttle doesn't go all the way to Rainbow Point (it mostly stays on the rim of the main canyon), it has many stops for most of the hikes you could do while at Bryce Canyon Park.

It's a free shuttle with stops both in and out of the park, and it's a great way to reduce congestion within the park. Similar to Zion, I can only imagine just how jammed the roads could be without the shuttle, if everyone had to take their car into the park.

Another stamp for today's visit to the park and I was once again Nevada-bound.

Days 24 to 28 – Overnight Stay at Ella Mountain Lookout

2023.06.16 – 2023.06.20

I came back from my days off to be pleasantly surprised that I would be getting two shipments of water - 400 gallons each - over the next couple of days. With that came the option to start staying in the lookout tower overnight.

I did some grocery shopping and some prep to make sure I would have what I needeed for extended stay. This post is pretty much just me harping on how cool it is to be up here at night (and how nice it is to not have to drive an hour each way every day now).

It starts on the 16th with a delivery of 400 gallons of water. All of it was fed through a garden hose so the process took around 2 hours and was repeated again on the 17th, leaving me with 800 gallons of water that should last me through the summer.

With water, I was finally able to scrub the shower (no hot water yet), clean up the rest of the kitchen, and do all of the dishes in the cabinets, a process which took much longer than expected.

I had bought a big load of freshies to grill up to celebrate my first night up in the tower but by the time I was done, it was getting dark and I had just enough time to grill a frozen pizza.

Truly living life in the lap of luxury.

The progression of time from evening to twilight to dusk is surreal on the mountain. It's difficult to explain but I'll try to articulate it here.

It's a very weird feeling having the night creep in - not uneasy, but surreal. Having such a far visibility makes it very different from just having the sky go dark. Instead, it's like a fog that creeps in and coaxes its way past and over the peaks in the east before it completely envelopes you.

The wind has consistently picked up as the sun starts to go down, and it blows in from almost directly east (whereas during the day it blows southerly). This always gives the odd impression that the sun isn't going down as a result of the rotation of the earth but rather that the winds themselves are pushing the sun over the horizon and that they carry the darkening sky with them, like a sheet being pulled over your head.

Never before have I been so aware of the tradeoff between day and night and it's hard not to feel very conscious of the threshold between the two. The winds that carry the night get stronger and will buffet the tower and whistle through every tiny crack for the entire night (a feeling and sound I actually find comforting). The twilight lingers for an hour or so before you're actually left in darkness, and by that point it feels like you're in the middle of the ocean.

By the time the starts have come out and the Milky Way is smeared across the sky, the shape of the mountains is gone and all you can see are the lights of Panaca to the north, twinkling from the 25 miles of air between your eyes and their source. Your nearest neighbour is the air force trailer to the south, which has an exterior light but never any overnight visitors. Every once in a while you can see a car in Utah driving west, and even though it's well over 50 miles away you feel like the driver can see you because of how bright their headlights are.

That's not to say any of this makes me uneasy, it's just an experience unlike any other I've had. The only thought that ever gives me pause is the understanding that my position on the mountain and the fact that the windows on the tower go all the way around means that any light I produce can be seen for quite a distance.

It's kind of funny how during the day I spend my time looking out and keeping watch on the landscape, but how the coin flips and at nightfall I recognize that the tower is a sort of beacon with any light I put out. Not that anyone is watching (nor do I feel like the hills have eyes), but it's something I think about at least once every time the sun goes down, but by that point I'm usually too worried that the wind will carry me away and I'll be swallowed in the darkening sky.

The sunrise is just as magnificent and starts early too. By 4 AM you can already see the lightening of the sky eastward. By 6 AM you're covering your head with the pillow because of how bright it is.

Being up with the sun gives me time to make a decent breakfast and take care of some chores before my shift officially starts at 8.

I've been taking some time to make some headway on the weeds that have grown around the tower. In the image on the right you can see the difference (I tend to weed in the shade where it's still cool), they really have clogged up the place but it's worth it to clear them out.

So that's what's new at the tower! Overnight stays are truly amazing and it's nice to not have to drive so much back and forth. With water for washing and showering finally here (I keep 30 gallons of truly potable water for drinking and cooking), I'm finally all set for the season.

Let's Talk About Spinning Weather

2023.06.26

One of my duties up in the tower is to spin weather at 1:00 PM every day I'm in service. This started as a result of 1:00 PM being the time for an afternoon check in, and I felt it would be good to have something prepared to read back to dispatch when they call in. Lately, the weather has been pretty consistent (getting warmer and drier), but I've seen a pretty wide spectrum already in my time here.

Since the driving winds are generally from the south and I'm usually the southernmost employee in the district while at the tower, this afternoon weather reading is a way for dispatch all the way in Ely (northern end of the district) to get an idea of what conditions are like in the south. Of course, being at such a high elevation (7400 feet) means these readings should be taken with a grain of salt as the readings are generally of cooler temperatures, higher winds (due to being on the ridgetop), and greater humidity.

This reading comes in tandem with weather reports put out twice daily by the National Weather Service. You can see the Fire Weather Forecast for Lincoln County, Nevada here. To find such a report for your area, seach "(Location) Area Forecast Discussion. These readings are given by dispatch every day at 1030 AM and 330 PM.

To determine current weather conditions, I use what's called a belt weather kit. This is a tool developed to be portable but also give imporant weather metrics such as temperature, relative humidity, wind speed, and wind direction in a relatively short amount of time.

Here is everything laid out on the table, you can see that it has everything you need to read weather. From left to right you have the writing board and notebook, two relative humidity slides, a bottle of distilled water, a sling psychrometer, two wind meters, and two pencils.

I don't use the provided notebook because I do one reading a day, and there was an extra spiral notebook at the tower I felt was good to use. The provided notebook is more for repeated readings in the same area, such as when you're on a fire and need more local and regular weather readings. Such readings would allow you to track change over time over the course of your shift - is it getting drier? Are winds picking up? Etc.

The sling psychrometer is a tool that allows you to estimate relative humidity based on the differences in temperature between a wet and dry bulb on two separate thermometers. You take this apparatus, spin it, check the difference in temperature, and compare to a table where the math has been worked out for you to determine relative humidity and dew point.

This is an anemometer and it works in a clever way. In the center tube between two scales (indicating wind speed) is a small ball. This device is held into the wind, allowing the wind to enter through two holes on the rear of the body. This wind then pushes the ball up to give you your wind reading. To change between the readings on the left and right side, you simply hold your finger over the red opening on top to increase the amount of force it takes to lift the ball.

Here is one such table, for readings between 6101 and 8500 feet of elevation (assuming 23" of mercury on a barometer). There are a number of tables in this printout that are meant to be used at different elevations or pressures. For any given pressure, there are relative humidity and dew point estimates for a large range of temperatures from less than freezing to well above 100 degrees.

To read your weather, it's important to find a spot representative of the area you're reading for. An unobscured spot into the wind is ideal, and not too close to any fire (so as not to have the readings influenced by those local conditions). You're looking for an ambient reading of your area. The southern side of the tower works for most days, as the wind usually comes from the south or southwest.

Read the two thermometers before you start to get an idea of where they're starting (they should be the same temperature). You wet the bulb of your wet bulb thermometer (wrapped in cotton) and start spinning immediately, making sure to spin for a full minute. I usually hold the anemometer in my other hand while I spin to read wind speed while spinning.

Here is a sling psychrometer in use, being spun by my old friend Hank.

After one minute, you read your thermometers to see the difference. The wet bulb should read a cooler temperature than the dry bulb due to evaporative cooling, and the psychrometer allows you to estimate relative humidity based on this fact. The lower the relative humidity, the more water that evaporates, and the greater the difference in temperatures between the two thermometers.

Here are the readings after one minute, with the dry bulb at 73F and the wet bulb at 47F.

After two minutes, dry 70F and wet 47F.

And after three minutes, dry 70F and wet 47F.

You can see that the readings have stabilized between minutes two and three, which is what we're looking for. If the temperatures hadn't stabilized, we would spin again until they did.

To estimate the relative humidity, you use the tables or the provided slide to get a readout.

Above are such a slide, where we align 47F on the wet bulb to 70F on the dry bulb, giving a relative humidity of 12% (highlighted in the bottom photo).

Use your eyes and best judgement to determine visibility and sky conditions to give a good readout. Today, it was sunny/clear skies with good visibility. I determine visibility based on what peaks I can see and with what clarity. Today, visibility was good.

And then you write it down and wait for dispatch to call in for the reading. Above is today's weather report.

If all of that seems like too much of a hassle, you can always pick up a Kestrel handheld weather reader to do all that and more for you at the push of a button.

Canyons, Both Grand and Narrow

2023.06.27 - 2023.06.28

Another set of days off means another chance to romp around these southwestern states. I was hemming and hawing about whether to go to Death Valley or Capitol Reef when I decided at the last minute (as I was walking out the door) to go to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Unfortunately despite being an exploratory trip there aren't as many plants this time around due to me being totally sucked into the landscape of both stops.

From Caliente, the drive is about 4 hours so I took off immediately after work on Monday. The drive was largely uneventful until I hit Arizona highway 89A headed south, where I came across some ominous signage.

I was the only one on the road for miles in either direction so I stopped by the side of the road to take it in (as expressed in the following blurry photos).

These photos are shaky and blurry due to the nighttime shooting but it was pretty cool to sit and watch for a good twenty minutes, not a single car went by. I'm assuming this was a broadcast burn (which you don't see often out here) but I'm not 100% sure. As I drove back towards Utah-Nevada the next day, I saw lots of Forest Service trucks hanging about the area.

I did the regular move of camping out on public land near the park and driving in very early. I was early enough to get to Point Imperial before the sun was up. At this overlook, I bumped into one ranger and they ended up being the only person I saw for the next three or four hours.

It's always fun to see how things change as you drive them in the daytime - when I drove up it was still pitch black. This is a mix of ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa, Pinaceae), Engelmann spruce (Picea engelmannii, Pinaceae), and rocky mountain Douglas-firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii var. glauca, Pinaceae) that were all burned over leaving these snags you see here.

Upon seeing some of the dead trees and the number of retained branches some of these snags had, my friend Jonathan suggested that these aren't "ladder fuels" but rather "elevator fuels". A ladder fuel refers to ways that a fire could spread from the ground to the crown, and certain species actually promote such fire spread. Virginia pine (Pinus virginiana, Pinaceae) back east is an example of a tree that doesn't self-prune (it retains dead branches), and as such you'll have dead branches hanging on that reach from the live crown in the canopy down to the forest floor. These fuels act as ladders for fire to climb vertically. Many trees self-prune, longleaf pine (Pinus palustris, Pinaceae) being another example within the pine family that drops its dead branches so the living crown above is less likely to catch fire.

Here you can see foliage cones for Engelmann spruce. The cones are just a few inches long and with very thin, papery scales. If you look closely at the needles you can see they are almost square-ish, four-sided, or boxy, a trait that can be more readily felt if you roll an individual needle between your fingers.

Here you can see the cone for a ponderosa pine, and I show the reverse side of it because you may notice the way the cones form a tiny little saucer where it attaches to the stem. It seems that ponderosa cones really want to open up as wide as they can to get every last seed of their out.

This is Greene's mountain-ash (Sorbus scopulina, Rosaceae), not a true ash! I'm familiar with American mountain-ash (Sorbus americana) in the mountains back east, so this was a welcome surprise. I found this fellow just past peak bloom in an area that had been burned pretty solidly.

I took my time to do the scenic drive in the morning before heading to the visitor's center. The first stop was Roosevelt Point, an overlook with a short (<10 minute) walk with great views.

It was here that you start to see an abundance of desert locust (Robinia neomexicana, Fabaceae). I had noticed tiny, shrubby individuals all the way at Imperial point (picture me hunched over a shrub with a perfect sunrise over one of the natural wonders of the world behind me), but here they grow larger. I don't think I saw too many individuals clear 20 feet tall, and this is likely due to exposure on the ridge and elevation. The next major stop was Cape Royal but I stopped at a few pulloffs to take in the scenery.

You may be able to see the guardrails in the photo - you can walk across the window to see the canyon from that overlook. Another neat thing is the presence of fir (Abies) and Douglas-fir on the north side of the window. The fact that they are in that shady nook gives them temperatures that are just cool enough and conditions that are just moist enough to allow them to be competitive there.

As you reach the end of the plateau where Angel's Window and Cape Royal sit, you re-enter piñon-juniper territory. Walking through here almost felt like a drier shrub pocosin given the low stature of the vegetation. On the right is our old friend piñon pine (Pinus edulis, Pinaceae).

Here is a funky one: fernbush (Chamaebatiaria millefolium, Rosaceae). This one has dissected leaves that are reminiscent of some ferns but it is actually in the rose family, which definitely caught me off guard.

Here is the view from the Angel's Window. You can see the Colorado River in the bottom photo, still grinding away at the canyon walls.

It seems that it wouldn't be a proper post without a panorama to view. This is the view from Cape Royal, and it's incredibly difficult to get a sense of scale even when standing there physically. The visitor's center is 12 miles away as the crow files (and over 180 as the car drives), and the canyon is about a mile deep between the two rims. At no point did that click for me and even still I can't fathom that the opposite rim was 12 miles away.

After spending quite a bit of time at Cape Royal, I started making my way back down the scenic drive.

I stopped at the Cliff Spring Trail, which starts in a nice downward hike through ponderosas before you enter a grotto.

I got a kick out of the plants that were growing upside-down. To the right is what I believe to be Utah agave (Agave utahensis, Asparagaceae).

Some more shots as I headed towards the visitor's center.

It seems that in cases of extreme fire that destroy the overstory of what is likely ponderosa, Doug-fir, and spruce, quaking aspen is what springs up. You can see in the above photographs that it forms a lush covering over the land (I believe this burn was in the early 2000s. Some of the more recent burns had quaking aspen carpets that were just a couple of feet tall still).

I made my way to the visitor's center for my passport stamp, grabbed a fistful of postcards, and sat down outside the lodge to start writing over a slice of (unfortunately mediocre) pizza. Unfortunately a landslide took out the water main to the north rim so I wasn't able to visit the lodge proper nor did I feel comfortable attempting any inner-canyon hikes due to the concern for heat (it was maybe 80F at the top of the rim but was over 100F in the center of the canyon by midday). So I moseyed around the top of the rim doing the short scenic hikes they did there and then spent some of the afternoon writing postcards to send.

It's become tradition at this point, and I'll have more to send out the next time I go someplace. I had a nice chat with the postal clerk at the north rim post office and told them I'd be back to enjoy some more arduous hikes and some food from the lodge when it opens (expected by late July).

Zion Narrows

2023.06.28

Planning to spend more time at Grand Canyon's north rim later this summer when things are sorted, I decided to (once again) visit Zion canyon as the Narrows walk had recently opened as water levels were below 150 cubic feet/second.

As I decided to walk the Narrows at the last minute on a whim, I rented the gear from a rental shop near Zion park and picked it up the night before to be ready to go in the morning. After getting that sorted and before another night of car camping, I had more pizza (which was better than the Grand Canyon slice and other slices I've had in/around Zion).

Had I prepped beforehand and did some reading, I would have likely purchased my own pair of water shoes to use for the hike. Altogether, the shoes, stick, and bag cost $50 which isn't a small chunk of change but is pretty solid for a one-off rental. Me being so near Zion and having it as an option to visit on days off could very well warrant a purchase of water shoes for that same price or a little more should I want to do the Narrows again. Something to consider if you want to do this hike. I would NOT do this hike barefoot - you definitely need something with traction and ankle support given the conditions of the hike. For many parts of the walk, your ankles are taking the full force of oncoming water and I definitely felt how sore they were when I finished.

The Narrows starts at the end of the Riverside walk, a 1-mile paved walkway along the Virgin River that starts at the Temple of Sinawava at the northern part of Zion Canyon. I've shared photos of the riverside walk (and much of the canyon itself) so I won't bombard you here. I did spot sacred datura (Datura wrightii, Solanaceae), a relative of potato and tomato in the nightshade family. I've been on the lookout for this plant since coming out here in May and started seeing it sometime in June, but have held off on sharing it as I think it deserves its own writeup.

It's an absolutely fascinating and alluring plant with a very cool history, and the plant itself is incredibly toxic and has been used as a deliriant/hallucinogen. It's hard to argue against its beauty, and in the back of my mind I tell myself that this flower belongs to the moon given its appearance and its incredibly ephemeral habit. I'll have more on it in the future.

This photo is taken of some water flow over a sheer wall, early in the walk (maybe ½ mile from the start of the Narrows). I took it after what the first major "filter" in the trail is; to reach where I was standing when the photo was taken, you have to go navel-deep in water that was more than a little chilly in the morning. It's understandable why many turn back here, but I was ready for anything and planned to take the whole day just for this hike.

I'm going to try and just share the photos in the order taken so you can see some of the sights without too much interruption. There are some cool geology and plants to discuss so I'll chime in but for most of this hike I was just in awe of my surroundings.

Boxelders (Acer negundo, Sapindaceae – yes, that Acer negundo) on a ridge.

Look at the person in the above photo to get a sense of scale. If you can't see them, I urge you to zoom in. In many places of the Narrows, the walls on either side of you stretch up over 1,000 feet. Nuts.

I believe much of this stretch where you're really in the canyon is called Wall Street.

One last rant on cairns to try and properly articulate it in a way I don't think I fully mentioned last time. I mentioned that lots of little creatures like to hang out underneath rocks in both wet and dry environments. Here, near a riverbed, it may be more intuitive that things would want to hide underneath rocks where it's wet and sheltered. However, in drier places like Bryce Canyon or drier, people may wonder what the big deal is if seemingly nothing is there to use the rock.

A cairn is something meant to be seen and they do have their uses, especially in marking trail. A lot of the places you'll find them in parks such as Zion are along well-established and even paved trails, so they're more for fun or for show than for any utility. What a cairn is in that case is a visual indicator that someone came along and did something to the landscape. Yes, national parks are very manicured experiences of some of what the U.S. has to offer, but it's still an experience in nature. If one person builds a cairn, to how many people that pass are they signaling that it's okay to mess around with what's there?

More importantly, it could cause someone to think that messing around is not only okay in this park but in others, and someone who sees a cairn in Death Valley may go to the Great Smoky Mountains and start changing rivers there where the waters are very much used by critters.

I am all for manipulating the land (I have a background in forestry for Pete's sake), but it's important to do so in an informed way that largely benefits the landscape as a whole. In the U.S. we've been manipulating the land in a way that's detrimental for a very long time, and I'm glad to understand that things have turned around over the past half century. There are right and wrong ways to interact with the landscape, and stacking rocks ain't it. There's a reason you can't take materials out of national parks and why there is so much stress on the lines "Take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints, kill nothing but time". End rant.

Here we see what (I think) is an excellent example of the geologic process of cross-bedding. It is my understanding that the direction of grain you see are ancient sand dunes that compressed into the stone you see here today, carved out by the Virgin river over millions of years.

Here is a cool little spot a few miles into the trail where there is a hanging garden! All on top you can see maidenhair fern (Adiantum capillus-veneris, Pteridaceae) as well as bracken fern (Pteridium aquilinum, Dennstaedtiaceae).

It was as I was getting closer to this hanging garden to take closer photographs where I realized the water got deep, and very quickly. No photos yet but I was up to my neck in water with my bag held above my head wondering if it was going to shallow out again. It just so happens that this is about where the hike went from Type I Fun to Type II Fun.

I took this standing on a rock right after the neck-deep water. Given the abruptness of the depth increase and the temperature of the water, I was seriously considering just turning back as I sat atop the boulder for a good 15 minutes while soaking wet. After sitting, I decided I was already wet and kept going forward.

After yet another section of neck-deep water (edging from Type II to Type III Fun...), you finally come back out into the sun as the canyon walls get wider.

More crossbedding!

It was still only around 1100 AM so I decided to try and dry my clothes as best as I could as I basked in the sun for about an hour. After my things were mostly dry, I kept going forward and told myself I'd turn around the next time the water went up to my belt buckle.

Along the way there was our old pal scouring rush (Equisetum hyemale, Equisetaceae), maidenhair fern, and bracken fern.

As well as some more western columbine (Aquilegia chrysantha, Ranunculaceae).

And a new one from a familiar family, American spikenard (Aralia bicrenata, Araliaceae). This one was not quite in bloom but the flowers were on their way.

My journey was stopped when I reached what I believe to be the Boulder Pair, seen above (images online don't show these rocks themselves but another set of boulders much earlier in the hike. I don't think the online images are correct given the location when compared to trail maps - that or there are multiple sets that people refer to as the boulder pair).

You can't readily climb over or go through the pair here and to the right there was deeper water, so I turned around. I was four hours and likely under 5 miles into the hike and while I didn't quite make it to Big Springs (maybe another half hour, and when you get there you're turned around from going further), I felt I had gotten a lot out of this hike. I know I'll be back to do the full trip up to Big Springs but by this point I figured if I was going to get soaking wet again, I might as well be on the return trip.

I should also note that I hadn't seen any other hikers after I stopped to dry off - the part where it gets to your neck seems to be another big filter for hikers and I don't blame anyone for turning back there. I'm quite tall and was up to my neck, and can't imagine what a shorter hiker would feel trying to pass some of those areas. It would however be interesting to see statistics on just how far most hikers go before turning back.

One last image of the Narrows. On the way out I stopped and had someone take my photo of the first deep section near the hanging garden rock. By this point I was reveling in it (given I had my now-dry shirt and sweatshirt in my bag, ready to change into), and we were well back into Type I Fun. On my hike back I bumped into a hiker and we chatted the whole way to the shuttle stop and then to the Lodge where I stopped for some more postcards and a bowl of soup. Grant, if you're reading this, hello!