Morning Relief

As excessive heat and drought continue to plague the Front Range urban corridor, early mornings offer the only relief.  Due to the elevation and dry air, overnight cooling produces a few hours that invite outdoor activity.

This morning, just before sunrise, I took a walk along the South Platte River.  As low as I have ever seen it, the rock laden stream attracted a mix of waterfowl and waders in addition to a lone raccoon that foraged in the clear shallows.  Songbirds were still rather quiet and inactive, represented by only a couple of chickadees and a northern yellow warbler.

But while the wildlife was limited, a steady, north, cool breeze offered hope that our weather might be finally changing.  Indeed, the first taste of the annual Monsoon is expected over the next few days as afternoon highs dip back into the 80s F and scattered thunderstorms blossom along the Front Range.  We are surely hoping that forecast is accurate. 

Swallow Mania

This summer, a massive flock of cliff swallows has colonized a bridge over the South Platte River near downtown Littleton.  Their gourd-shaped nest cavities, formed with mud, line both sides of the bridge and are four rows wide in some areas.  Grass is used to coat the interior of the gourds, making them more comfortable for the nestlings.

This morning, the attentive parents were ingesting a variety of flying insects above the river and over the adjacent fields; indeed, I have seen flocks of them above our Littleton farm, almost a mile from the bridge.  Exhausted parents temporarily rested on power lines along the river before resuming their sorties.

Long distance migrants, cliff swallows winter in southern South America, returning to North America to nest by mid spring.  While most common in the western half of the U.S., their range has been expanding eastward as their nest site preference has shifted from cliffs to bridges and other human structures. 

A Day in Ste. Genevieve

After slogging through heavy rain in St. Louis yesterday, we drove another hour south to Ste. Genevieve, on the Mississippi River floodplain.  Founded by French settlers in 1740, the town had to be moved three miles upstream in 1785 due to severe flooding along the river.

Nevertheless, Ste. Genevieve is the oldest, continuously inhabited town in Missouri and is home to the largest concentration of French Colonial Architecture in the country.  A fine museum introduces visitors to the history of French settlement and the historic section of town offers a pleasing mix of galleries, restaurants, retail establishments, hotels and B&Bs for visitors.  Indeed, we are staying in the Audubon Hotel, named after the famous naturalist who, with a colleague, ran a mercantile store in St. Genevieve in the early 1800s.

The Ste. Genevieve Levee National Wildlife Refuge runs along the Mississippi River floodplain east of the city but trails, other than the levee trail, are not well established at this point.  Today, we'll head into the St. Francois Mountains; details to follow.

 

The St. Francois Mountains

Over the next few days, my wife and I will explore the St. Francois Mountains, in southeast Missouri, eroded from an ancient Precambrian dome of volcanic and intrusive rocks.  Almost 1.5 billion years old, this dome pushed up through the strata of the Ozark Plateau during the Ouachita Orogeny (about 300 million years ago). 

Known for their scenic outcrops of granite and for their rich supply of lead, these Mountains host five Missouri State Parks and are drained by the St. Francis River and its tributaries; this river flows southward into northeast Arkansas before joining the Mississippi north of Helena.  Taum Sauk Mountain, elevation 1772 feet, is both the highest peak in the St. Francois Mountains and the highest point in Missouri.

We will be staying in Ste. Genevieve on the Mississippi River and our adventures will be documented in the next few blog posts.  Hopefully, the weather will cooperate.

The Bear Creek Greenbelt

Bear Creek rises on the east face of Mt. Blue Sky (formerly Mt. Evans) and flows downward through alpine tundra, forests and meadows.  Below Evergreen, Colorado, it slices through its tortuous canyon in the foothills before rumbling onto the Piedmont, eventually joining the South Platte River.

Before the construction of the Bear Creek Lake Dam (1977-1982) to control flooding, Bear Creek, having also received significant flow from Turkey Creek, to its south, had produced a broad floodplain of wetlands, meadows and cottonwood groves through the west side of Metro Denver.  Once its flow was greatly diminished by the dam, that floodplain began to dry out and a large portion of it is now protected as a Greenbelt for walking, biking and nature study.

Of course, this flood-control project has had a significant impact on the floodplain itself, where the massive cottonwoods are gradually dying off and the wetlands have all but disappeared.  Human development and recreation have been the winners.  

Wind, Raptors & Drought

Meeting a friend at South Platte Park this morning, we were greeted by a strong and desiccating southwest wind.  As expected, this kept the songbirds huddled in the shrubs and thickets but it certainly appealed to the raptors.

During our visit, we encountered an osprey, two bald eagles (an adult and an immature), two turkey vultures and an American kestrel.  While the others were cavorting in the wind, the kestrel was having breakfast atop a bluebird box, much to the chagrin of tree swallows that were nesting there.  Double-crested cormorants and great blue herons seemed to enjoy the wind as well, catching a ride as they traversed the refuge.

But the most noticeable feature of the Park was the ongoing drought, which has significantly lowered water levels in the South Platte River and its adjacent lakes.  Indeed, I do not recall levels this low over the past three decades.  Though rain is forecast to arrive this weekend, it will take an early and long-lasting monsoon to produce a significant recovery along the Front Range. 

Don Robinson State Park

On this mild April morning, my wife and I visited Don Robinson State Park in Jefferson County, Missouri.  Donated to the State by Mr. Robinson upon his death, its 800 acres are draped across the upper watershed of LaBarque Creek, a tributary of the Meramec River.

The Park is known for its Sandstone Canyons where outcrops of St. Peter Sandstone adorn the walls and underlie the streams (see photo).  This rock formation dates from the mid Ordovician Period, about 460 million years ago, when life had not yet crawled from the sea.  Outcrops of limestone and dolomite are also found in the Park which harbors an excellent diversity of foliage, including many rare plants.

During our visit today, we hiked a 3.2 mile loop through one of the canyons, enduring a steep climb in one area.  Though benches are not provided for those of us who often use them, there were plenty of logs and sandstone blocks along the trail which, in our case, were regularly appreciated.  We highly recommend a visit to this scenic and geologically interesting Park.

Easter Eagles

Birding along the Missouri River on this sunny but cool Easter morning, I observed a pair of adult bald eagles, perched in a large tree along the swollen stream.  They were fitting symbols on this holiday of rebirth, having made a dramatic comeback from the widespread decimation caused by DDT use; large raptors were especially impacted since they are apex predators.

Of course, Rachel Carson has long been honored for calling attention to the indiscriminate use of that pesticide in her 1962 book, Silent Spring.  Though its use was finally banned in the United States in 1972, DDT was still employed for decades elsewhere and remains in use in some African countries today.

Proud of our decision to ban DDT, we Americans continue to use many other herbicides and pesticides that likely accumulate in our bodies, causing disease not yet associated with their presence.  See my recent post on Parkinson's Disease.

More Lesser Scaup

Over the past 20 years, I have frequently encountered lesser scaup at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area during the spring and fall migrations.  However, they have generally appeared in rather small numbers, from single individuals or pairs to small flocks.

But this past weekend, I observed a flock of 40 lesser scaup, cruising on the deeper channel where they intermittently dove for aquatic vegetation or invertebrates.  Having wintered across the southern States and Mexico, they will head for Western Canada or the Intermountain West to summer and breed.

Often seen in large flocks during winter, mingling with other diving ducks, lesser scaup prefer larger lakes and reservoirs during migrations, choices not available at Eagle Bluffs where rather shallow pools dot the Missouri River floodplain.  Indeed, surface-feeding ducks, such as mallards, northern shovelers, gadwall, wigeon and teal generally dominate the scene. 

Klondike Park

A relatively small but fascinating park in Augusta, Missouri, Klondike Park is centered on an abandoned silica sand quarry.  Paved, gravel and earthen trails lead throughout the preserve, offering views of the quarry lake (bordered by white sand beaches and cliffs of silica), leading to rustic campsites, circling a wetland, crossing a forested hillside and climbing to bluffs that offer a sweeping view of the Missouri River Valley.

While the quarry site is especially unique, we encountered a pleasing mix of wildlife as well.  Chorus frogs called from the wetland shallows, eastern phoebes, just back from the south, sang their namesake tune from trees near the lake, turkey vultures sailed along the bluffs and a lone bald eagle soared overhead.

Though we chose not to climb a steep path onto the bluffs, we enjoyed our visit on this mild, sunny morning and encourage others to experience the beautiful geology.  Also of interest is the Park's Creative Arts Center; call ahead regarding its programs and hours of operation which vary through the seasons.  

Local Topography

During my youth in Cincinnati, we lived near a large creek that led westward and downward through forest and then across open farmlands.  Though we often followed it for miles, I remember wondering where it eventually led.

When I grew older and became a bit more sophisticated regarding our local geography, I realized that the creek was one of many that flow into the Mill Creek Valley from the ridges that border it.  But that early curiosity fed a life-long interest in topography and how our modern landscapes came to be.  Indeed, over time, I became increasingly interested in geology and hydrology and cannot travel anywhere without paying attention to the streams and rivers that I cross.

Understanding the local geography also fuels attention to the varied ecosystems that characterize one's city or town and, of course, to the myriad of wild creatures that inhabit them.

See also: Wonderland

Castlewood State Park

The Meramec River rises in the Missouri Ozarks, southeast of Salem, and flows ENE for 218 miles to join the Mississippi in southern Metro St. Louis.  As it approaches that city, Castlewood State Park lines its northern shore, offering trail loops that run along the river, wind through forest and lead up to scenic bluffs that rise above the Meramec.

Today, my wife and I hiked the 2-mile river loop and endured the short but steep climb to overlooks atop the cliffs (photo).  In addition to the beautiful scenery, we encountered an excellent variety of birdlife, including wood ducks, red-tailed hawks, eastern bluebirds and several woodpecker species (among many other woodland songbirds).

Though it is clearly a popular State Park and well worth a visit, signage is absent along roads that lead toward the Park, which is south of Ballwin, Missouri.  We recommend that you consult maps before setting out for Castlewood State Park.

Crow Island

Birding in the Lower Bonne Femme Valley, southwest of Columbia, this morning, I drove out to the Missouri River where bald eagles often roost in large cottonwoods along the banks.  I did not see any eagles but did observe a flock of American crows, crowded on a rock outcrop in the middle of the river.  The exposed rock was only about 10 feet in diameter and I counted 32 crows.

I initially wondered if they spend the night there to avoid predation but doubt that a sizable flock of aggressive crows would be the target of any nocturnal hunter.  Perhaps it was a gathering point before a day of scavenging regional farmlands but, within ten minutes, they headed off in different directions.

Any experienced birder has regularly encountered much larger flocks of crows (especially in winter) but this morning's sighting was, after 50 years of birding, new to me.  Such is the nature of birding and the reason that we are repeatedly drawn into the great outdoors. 

Weldon Spring Conservation Area

There must be hundreds of Lewis & Clark Hiking Trails between St. Louis and the Pacific Northwest, commemorating the excursion of those adventurers.  One of these is an 8 mile loop at Weldon Spring Conservation Area, on the north wall of the Missouri River Valley, in St. Charles County.

We limited our hike today to a 2 mile section of that loop (4 miles roundtrip) that runs along a ridge top to broad views of the Missouri River (see photo).  The large access lot for this trail is on the south side of Missouri 94, a few miles west of Interstate 64.

An additional treat on this road trip was travel along Missouri 94 as we headed westward back to Columbia.  This paved, 2-lane highway jogs between the River Hills and the broad, flat floodplain of the Missouri River, passing river towns, vineyards, wineries, tree farms and ranches en route.  We recommend this scenic road for those wishing to avoid the congestion and monotony of Interstate 70.

See also:  Up River with Lewis & Clark (and the three posts that follow it)  

Birding Beneath the Fog

Low clouds and light fog enveloped Columbia throughout this morning and into the early afternoon.  As I headed down to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, I was thus concerned that the fog would thicken and my viewing would be impaired as I dropped onto the Missouri River floodplain.  Fortunately, the lower fog line was above the refuge elevation and my birding efforts were unaffected.

Recent mild temperatures had cleared most of the ice and waterfowl species were easy to identify in the filtered light.  Mallards and American coot remained the dominant species, joined by northern shovelers and ring-necked ducks. A pair of adult bald eagles perched in their nest tree while a red-tailed hawk, a red-shouldered hawk and a northern harrier hunted on the grasslands.  Migrant geese have yet to arrive in any significant numbers.

In concert with the recovering wetlands and the regular influx of waterfowl, human hunters had returned, their pickups, camouflaged canoes and blinds spaced across the floodplain.  The refuge is now totally back to "normal."

The Great Plains Transition

Driving westward across the Great Plains of North America, one gradually leaves behind the woodlands and rolling terrain of the Midwest and Southeast as the climate becomes drier and the rivers smaller.  Eventually, the traveler enters the High Plains Province, where  the landscape is flat, the rivers are often dry and the woodlands have disappeared.  For those following Interstate 70, this transition is most abrupt between Hays (elevation 2018 feet) and WaKeeney (elevation 2450 feet), Kansas.

While the landscape change is obvious, birders will also notice a change in the primary raptors.  The common red-tailed hawks and American kestrels of the Midwest, the Southeast and Eastern Plains have been replaced by prairie falcons, Swainson's hawks (summer) and rough-legged hawks (winter).  Bald eagles all but disappear while golden eagles may grace the scene, especially as one approaches the Front Range.

Indeed, east of the mountains, the flat, High Plains yield to dissected terrain once again, the erosive effect of the Arkansas and South Platte River systems, fed by snowmelt from the Continental Divide.  Riparian woodlands reappear and, along the Front Range urban corridor, red-tailed hawks and bald eagles rejoin the raptor population.

Duckland Restored

On this sunny but cold afternoon, a friend and I revisited Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area on the Missouri River floodplain.  There we found that water coverage has finally returned to normal and that migrant waterfowl have noticed.

As has often been the case, mallards dominated the mixed flocks, followed by northern shovelers, green-winged teal, gadwall and a lone, male canvasback.  More than fifty American coot and a couple of pied-billed grebes were also observed.  Other sightings of note included three northern harriers, two red-tailed hawk, an American kestrel and a trio of Wilson's snipe.

Though small flocks of migrant geese have recently been reported in the area, none were observed today.  To see their massive flocks descend on Eagle Bluffs once again will confirm that the refuge has fully recovered from its prolonged, man-induced drought. 

A Duckless Floodplain

An 88-mile segment of Interstate 29, between Mound City, Missouri, and Council Bluffs, Iowa, runs across the broad, flat floodplain of the Missouri River.  This ecosystem is a mosaic of crop fields, lakes, wetlands, canals, tributaries and riparian woodlands.  Red-tailed hawks are usually common along the highway, the massive nests of bald eagles are evident in some of the larger trees and waterfowl are often abundant on the open waters or flying overhead, especially during seasonal migrations.  Indeed, Loess Bluffs National Wildlife Refuge, renowned for its spectacular flocks of migrant snow geese, is just south of Mound City.

So, having driven this road in both directions over the past few days, I was shocked not to observe a single duck or goose.  Only adding to my personal impatience with the tardy waterfowl migration, their complete absence on the floodplain was disturbing..

Perhaps this observation merely reflects relatively warm conditions across northern latitudes, yet another sign of climate change.  Maybe the waterfowl were concentrated closer to the river on the west side of the floodplain.  But those of us concerned about our unrelenting assault on the health of natural ecosystems cannot shake the conviction that we humans are slowly degrading the planet.

A Quiet Disaster in Alaska

Back on October 11, the remnants of Typhoon Halong struck the vast Delta of the Yukon and Kuskokwim Rivers, along the southwest coast of Alaska.  Dozens of towns were destroyed and thousands of residents were displaced; since this remote area has no road access from the rest of the State, evacuations have been carried out by military planes and ships.  Most of the evacuees lost everything, including the graves of their ancestors.

I'll admit that I limit my exposure to the news these days, not wanting to be overwhelmed by the antics of King Trump, but I do scan the New York Times each day.  Until this morning, I was unaware of this disaster and, frankly, am a bit ashamed of that fact.  One could only begin to imagine the coverage that such an event would have received if it occurred along a coastline of the Lower 48.

Remote and self-sufficient, these native Alaskans are Americans, just like any New York billionaire.  They deserve our attention, our compassion and our financial support. Please consider making a donation to the American Red Cross on their behalf.

Greenbelts

As our cities and suburbs continue to sprawl, consuming natural habitat, greenbelts have become especially important.  Even though these ribbons of life, almost always along rivers and creeks, often host a hike-bike trail, they offer a vital network of riparian woodlands, meadows and wetlands that attract a surprising variety of wildlife.

Unfortunately, these branched ecosystems tend to be rather narrow, lined with homes and businesses.  This limits their value as open space but also poses a threat to those human dwellings, especially in this era of flash flooding that we have recently entered.

While moving those structures will not likely occur until they are destroyed by a flood, planning commissions would be wise to widen these greenbelts before any new "development" is approved.  If not, nature will do it for us.