Showing posts with label Osprey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Osprey. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 27, 2021

Some Otters for the Dog Days of Summer on a Special River

The Tuolumne River is at a low ebb these days. It has been flowing at a mere 97 cubic feet per second for what seems like months now, a level that barely keeps the river flowing at all. It's not a natural flow of course; an entire series of dams control the amount of water present in the river. In non-drought years, the river might be allowed to flow 3 to 5 times what it is doing right now.
But water is life, and the narrow thread of the river, while perhaps too warm for trout and salmon (there are reports of disastrous fish kills on rivers like the Klamath farther to the north) is still allowing animals and insects to survive this hottest part of the summer. I was out walking the river trail this morning as is my tradition watching for birds. I was delighted to see a crowd of Greater Yellowlegs and Least Sandpipers in the water with a watchful Osprey in the Cottonwood tree above. A pair of Black Phoebes were chasing flies just over the water. And then I saw a serpentine shape crest in the water.
I don't see River Otters (Lontra canadensis) all that often on the Tuolumne River. I know they are there, but they range widely up and down the river, and months may pass between sightings. They are usually pretty far off, but today I was just sitting as a family of four of them casually swam by. Enjoy the video!


The Tuolumne River is a majestic presence in Yosemite National Park, with a canyon that rivals the Grand Canyon in depth, and a valley that once rivaled Yosemite Valley at Hetch Hetchy before the dam was built. But don't discount the lower parts of the river where it flows through the Central Valley. It is this part of the river that supports the greatest diversity of animal and plant life. I've seen otters, bobcats, foxes, coyotes, raccoons, deer, and evidence of beaver in recent years, and nearly 150 species of birds have been reported on the two miles of river trail that I follow every day. It's a special place.


Sunday, May 15, 2016

Cherishing Our Rivers: A Journey on the Water with the Tuolumne River Trust

Are you lucky enough to live near a river? For much of my life I didn't have that privilege. Southern California has creeks at best, except when they were flooding and otherwise causing havoc. The creeks often flowed through incredibly beautiful mountains and valleys, but they can't be a source of life for human civilization. We're too busy using what little water there is that there is barely enough to maintain a healthy ecosystem. Southern California has to import around 85% of the water that it uses.
People who live in Northern California or the Pacific Northwest might smile when I describe my Tuolumne as a river. Compared to the mighty rivers like the Columbia it is a middling stream. The thing is, it lies about that point in the northward journey in California where the rivers provide sufficient water for local use that it doesn't have to be imported from elsewhere (indeed, much of the water from the Tuolumne is exported to the Bay Area). We depend mostly on groundwater for domestic use, and the groundwater is replenished in part by the river. Most of the river goes to irrigation, but some is allowed to flow into the San Joaquin River and on to the ocean (not willingly, it should be noted; there are some who would just as soon use all of it).
The Tuolumne River begins high in the Sierra Nevada, flowing through Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite National Park. It plunges into the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, a spectacular gorge that is as deep as that other canyon in Arizona. It is briefly stopped and diverted at Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, and then flows through a lesser-known gorge (unless you are a rafting enthusiast) to Don Pedro Reservoir. More water is siphoned off, but part of the river continues through the Sierra Nevada foothills and Mother Lode, and finally flows into the Great Valley, where it joins with the San Joaquin.
A swallow swings low over the river.
That's where I found myself today, rafting a section of the Tuolumne where it flows through the foothills between La Grange and Turlock Lake State Recreational Area. I had joined the Tuolumne River Trust on their By Land and By Water Canoeing trip, where I was serving as the resident geologist (literally 'resident', as I live just ten miles downstream). It was a fine adventure for the twenty or so participants, who were helping raise funds for the Trust.

What do they do? The Trust organizes river clean-ups, restoration of regions burned by the Rim Fire, and educational opportunities for children and adults. They also do political advocacy, as a voice for the river itself in the cacophony of agricultural and urban water interests. It's a great organization that deserves your support!
The river was alive with birds, bugs and amphibians. I glanced at a bug hovering a foot or so over the river, and it suddenly disappeared in the mouth of a swallow. The swallows accompanied us along the entire length of our journey. Maybe all the oars hitting the water was stirring up the bugs! I saw an old telephone pole in the distance, and immediately recognized the huge pile of sticks and random debris as an Osprey nest. Both parents were there, along with at least one chick (barely visible to the right of the birds in the picture above).
The Ospreys were not happy with the rafters and canoers below, and let them know in no uncertain terms. They relaxed when we floated by and headed downstream.The river is a perfect habitat for these grand birds. 90% or more of their diet is fish, and they are experts at landing feet-first in river to grab unwary ones floating near the surface.
Exposure of Valley Springs Formation along the Tuolumne River
There is some interesting geology on the lower river. The cliffs we passed had outcrops of white or tan-colored volcanic ash called the Valley Springs Formation. The ash was the result of gigantic eruptions of rhyolitic magma at calderas located in central Nevada! Given the media fascination with Yellowstone "super-volcanoes", people might be surprised to find that similar calderas erupted all across the American West between 20 and 30 million years ago.

A bit further downstream there are exposures of the Mehrten Formation. It originated from volcanic mudflows related to the Cascades-style stratovolcanoes that once existed near the present day summit of the Sierra Nevada around 10 million years ago. Sediments within the unit have yielded an array of fossils including ancient camels and horses, giant tortoises, and strange 8 foot long saber-toothed salmon! Younger rocks above the Mehrten have given up Mammoths, Mastodons, Saber-tooth Cats, American Lions, Short-faced Bears, and Giant Ground Sloths, along with many other ice age species.
The lower reaches of the Tuolumne River cannot be mistaken for a world class whitewater rafting locale (you have to go upstream for that), but it can present unique challenges to amateur canoeists like myself. There are thickets of willow and cottonwood trees along the banks, and sudden turns in the river course can drive boats into a maze of branches. We had half a dozen swampings that usually happened when both canoeists ducked in the same direction as they went into the thickets. No one was hurt, but it can be momentarily terrifying.
In some places the river was constricted to where it was only a few feet wide, and the water flowed very fast. If you look at the canoe above, you can see how fast it's plowing through the water as the people oared furiously to avoid the thicket just below. The water whipped them in a circle into a back eddy.
There were also hazards caused by fallen trees. Some of them reached almost across the river, and the one above occurred just after a fast-moving chute. Being short (which I'm not!) has advantages in such situations. The Trust folks put a premium on safety. You can see that everyone had a personal flotation device, and leaders were stationed at critical points in the difficult passages to help guide boats through.

We've abused our rivers. Gold dredges did incalculable damage to this stretch of the river by ripping out the riparian vegetation and destroying the soils along the river floodplain. Miles of river habitat were destroyed by the search for a few suitcases of gold, but money seems to trump all. Over the decades the river has started to recover, but it will be many more years before the river can be truly healthy for salmon and all the other life forms that historically lived along the river (I looked for River Otters today, but unfortunately didn't see any). There are many other challenges, like the invasive hyacinth, a water plant that clogs river channels, pollution (why do we use rivers as a dumping ground?), and low flows related to the continuing drought in California (the water is warmer than it should be).
It was a marvelous day spent with people who are working hard to protect and rehabilitate this precious resource. Rivers are truly a gift, and they need to be cherished and protected. What rivers are near you, and what can you do to help?


Saturday, January 10, 2015

What Defines a Wilderness? Is it the Barrenness or the Richness? The Joe Domecq Wilderness Area and Gold Dredging

A wilderness surprise: Joe Domecq Wilderness Park
Wilderness [wildər nis]:
1. A neglected or abandoned area of a garden or town.
2. An area essentially undisturbed by human activity together with its naturally developed life community.

Can these two meanings be reconciled? I'm used to the definition of wilderness as it was written into the 1964 Wilderness Act: a contiguous area of at least 5,000 acres (7.8 square miles) that is as close to a primeval natural state as is possible. The landscape where I live has precious little remaining wilderness: the Great Valley has less than 5% of its original ecosystem. The Sierra Nevada has more open space and wilderness, but mostly in the high country. The deep forests of the middle elevations have been extensively logged, while the foothills were upended in the search for gold. The rivers have been mostly dammed.
Gold dredge deposits near Merced Falls
The dredging of Sierra Nevada/Great Valley rivers for gold was a particularly destructive form of mining. Put into practice long after the famous Gold Rush of 1848-53, dredging was an example of business getting serious about their "business". A great deal of fine-grained gold was not being captured by the usual mining methods and was lost downstream. Around 1898 the first successful dredge was placed in operation. It was a floating factory with large shovels on one side and a conveyer belt on the other. The shovels dug up one end of the pond, processed the sediments through sieves and mercury-coated copper plates, and then dumped them out the other end. In this way, the dredge sailed across the landscape, "dragging" its pond along. It was horribly efficient, as the miners could profit when there was only 18 to 20 cents of worth of gold in a cubic yard of gravel.
Dredged floodplain on the Merced River near Snelling, CA. Courtesy of GoogleEarth

How was this destructive? The mining process destroyed the natural soil of the river floodplains and replaced it with barren piles of boulders and cobbles that were no longer useful for pretty much any other purpose. Especially the growing of crops. Many tens of thousands of acres of valley floor were permanently altered. A dredge field on the Merced River in my area is nine miles long and half a mile wide. Similar amounts of land were dredged on the Tuolumne River that flows by my home town.
So here is the source of my opening question. After fifty or sixty years of abandonment, the dredge fields are returning to nature, after a fashion. Cottonwood trees have taken root here and there, and the old dredge ponds have formed tule thickets and swamps. The other day we were visiting Turlock Lake State Recreational Area (the lake stores water for irrigation). We continued up the road and more or less by accident discovered that we had a "wilderness" area right in our own backyard: it's called the Joe Domecq Wilderness Area, and is part of the larger La Grange Regional Park administered by Stanislaus County. We were intrigued and walked in.
The wilderness preserves about 270 acres of dredged lands and includes a pond, swamps, cottonwood and eucalyptus woodlands, and grassy meadows. Despite the horrific damage done to the original landscape, the environment has now recovered enough to provide a rich habitat for birds and other creatures. The preserve is minimally developed (rough trails, two picnic tables, no bathrooms), but there is plenty of land to wander about, especially if one is interested in birds.
As we explored, the woods were alive with bird songs. We meant to have a brief look, and stayed for two hours. I got a number of bird pictures, including one or two that I haven't seen before.
Before returning home, I walked out onto Old Basso Bridge, the old Highway 132 crossing of the Tuolumne River. It's across the street from the wilderness area. It's been replaced by a modern bridge and is reserved for pedestrians now. This area around the riverbank provides one more piece of habitat for the local animal life, including salmon during the right season.
It was a pleasant discovery, and nice to find that the abandoned barren lands can be rejuvenated. If you would like to see some of the birds we saw, make the jump below for some pictures.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

How it was: Today in Yosemite Valley

It was one of those treasured kind of days, the chance to explore Yosemite Valley. I was on the road with my students, and we got a great day of sun and fall colors (and quite a bit of geology, too). I lead with a picture of Half Dome along with one of the most beautiful trees in the world, an old elm in the meadow between the visitor center and Lower Yosemite Falls.
On a geology field trip, one does not just march into Yosemite (shades of Sean Bean and Mordor?). One has to be properly prepared. A trip from the Great Valley to Yosemite Valley involves passage through the Sierra Nevada Metamorphic Belt and a journey through time, back as far as the latest Proterozoic. We stopped along the Merced River several times, first to look at gold dredging tailings (and an osprey tending to a nest), and then to look at some incredibly contorted ocean-floor cherts of the Calaveras Complex. What a great mapping exercise for structural geology students! Of course, accessibility is a problem...these rocks are completely underwater for most of the year.
Then a stop at the famed Tunnel View, which is close to the spot where the first European-Americans discovered the valley in 1851. The local Miwok people discovered the valley thousands of years ago, of course, but that somehow seems to escape the attention of the historians (and really, why do we still celebrate Columbus Day?).
 Fall is just getting going in Yosemite Valley. We had a rainstorm last week, so the air was clean and crisp. I often think that fall is my favorite time of year in Yosemite, with the vivid colors and sparse crowds (but then I visit in spring...or winter...or summer, and change my mind).
I gave the students a bit of free time with an appointment to meet at the upper end of the valley in a couple of hours. I set off across the meadows and over to the Merced River to have a look...
The Royal Arches and North Dome seemed little changed. This is not so true of Half Dome since the Ahwiyah Rock Fall in 2009 permanently changed the appearance of the iconic rock.
 The deer were out in force, distracting my students, and me too...
I walked across Sentinel Bridge to take in a view of Half Dome from a perspective that no one in the world has ever thought to photograph (ok, ok, everyone who visits Yosemite Valley takes this picture; but really, who can resist?). But it did give me an idea, after a moment's reflection. I set off towards Happy Isles along a new route...more on that next time.
It was a beautiful day.