After eleven action-packed days, we were sad to do a final sweep of Milk Jug for the last time to gather our duffels, sleeping bags, and any straggling snacks. We woke up around 3:45 on our last day to prepare for our early flight out of Medford, Oregon. Every student somberly but gratefully hugged Tim and Jenna goodbye before we dragged ourselves onto the shuttle to the airport. With groggy eyes we waited to board our plane, with less anticipation than we had experienced when heading to Portland eleven days beforehand. While we were looking forward to returning home, we were also sad to leave behind our newfound friends and the beautiful scenery we had encountered every minute of our trip in the Pacific Northwest. Most of us slept on the flights home, perhaps dreaming of one day returning to Oregon. Until then, our memories, pictures, journal entries, and future get-togethers with our fellow travelers will have to suffice - we were already planning a reunion trip to visit Tim, Jenna, Deb, and Croissant. We'll be counting down the days!
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So, it’s not often you wake up next to the tallest trees in the world. But, on days ten and eleven, that’s exactly what we did. Sequoia sempervirens, more commonly known as the coastal redwood, exists in a narrow band where precipitation is sufficiently supplied by coastal fog. Due to intensive logging, the coastal redwood has vastly diminished in the California and Oregon region, and there are very few dense groves of redwood left. The day begins as I stumble out of my tent, try (and fail) not to stumble over the redwood tree root that I had set our tent directly next to – I thought that I might as well get to know the redwoods well on both a conscious and unconscious level. We had been in several old growth forests before, with towering Douglas Fir (which I have a special affinity for, due to our shared name), but there was something special – almost spiritual - about witnessing the tallest trees in the world, with their often gnarled and intricate root systems – some marred by fire – and some surviving and contributing to their ecosystems long after they had perished. As we’ve seen over and over again on this trip, an individual's value in their ecosystem doesn’t stop after their death, and in numerous cases, they can provide a wider variety of benefits after they have died. But the day before (Day 10), we arrived at the Prarie Creek campground, and we were first presented with a rather charismatic herd of elk. As could be expected, much merriment and picture taking followed, whilst respecting the rather stringently enforced buffer zone around the elk. After making the mandatory three bathroom stops, we began our hiking loop, starting with the educational part and then moving into the aptly titled revelation trail, and the zig zag trail. We began the hike with being asked to find the nearest redwood tree, of which there was a good selection of giants, and to hold onto it – and just look up. From the discussion that followed, I know many of my classmates and I shared similar feelings of awe, and of bewilderment that the greater than three hundred foot behemoth that stood above us was a living creature, just as mortal as us tiny humans that scurried about its roots like ants. It certainly made us feel small – and undoubtedly in a good way. After that introduction to the physical enormity of the redwoods, we would begin to glimpse into the enormous importance they play in the local ecosystems. As we walked along, we saw the importance that redwoods played as they functioned as nurse logs for other species of tree. Arising from the remains of redwoods were other redwoods and numerous species of other trees and ferns, including licorice fern. The root systems were inlaid upon eachother, providing support for the new plants and overall better seedling survivor-ship. Speaking of root systems, we also learned from Tim that redwoods were kinda like us, reliant on eachother. Their root systems intermingle and merge into eachother for support. Their shallow roots intermingle amongst eachother, binding their strengths together and allowing them to survive in dense groves – where other trees tend to need their space. It was kinda like being packed in a van with 10 other people for two weeks: you grow to rely on eachother. As we continued on the path, we made note of the biological complexity we saw, and related it to all of the other places we had been, common trends of plant diversity based on canopy space, sunlight, and nutrients. We ended up at Big Tree, which was demarcated by a sign inscribed with “Big Tree” and then another sign with “Even Bigger Trees”, pointing in another direction. Ryan recounted the Yurok legend of how the Redwoods came to this place, and later on this evolved into a discussion of the Redwoods' place in our own spiritual beliefs. Some of us related it to there being something quite literally bigger than us, in both physicality and understanding, of the intrinsic and innate connections we’ve observed and especially those we can’t observe, that we can’t quite grasp. There are still many unknowns all around us, and we should certainly not view ourselves as apart from nature, but still as a part of it. We should not let our hubris accumulate as we surround ourselves with our own creations, our cities, our material wealth, our industries. We shouldn’t lose sight of the bigger picture, of all of humanity and our immersion in this cosmos. This discussion concluded our introduction to the Redwoods, and we would get a more in depth look at it with our expert on day eleven. We tread the same familiar path with Leonel Arguello, Joint Chief of Resource Management and Science of Redwood National Parks, though he certainly shed new light upon it. As we walked through the trails, Leonel described the linked nature of ecosystems in the area, both aquatic and terrestrial, and the overall restoration effort taking place in Redwood National Parks. Around 40,000 acres of the Redwood State and National Parks could be categorized as old growth, while the remaining 80,000 acres were under restoration and regeneration regimes. In the south parts of the parks, the old growths were fragmented, scattered old growth in a sea of new growth, which made restoration particularly difficult. Leonel reiterated the impact of decaying and dead organisms as both nurse logs and their importance in stream communities, providing nutrients, shade, and shelter, and contributing to a more functional ecosystem, from which arises the oft sought after complexity. Leonel explained the biodiverse communities that form around the redwoods, and how that complexity contributes to the stability, resilience, and health of the ecosystems. Leonel also spent time describing the regenerative processes of the Redwood, the burl of the tree. The burl can sprout and grow roots if damaged, which gives rise to even more complexity than other trees could produce, with some trees growing at strange angles, and in one case, upside down branches. This structural complexity contributes to the species that can live in and around the redwoods, and allows for variety in the tree snags. Attention was also drawn to the fire resistant ability of the redwoods, and the rot resistance – factors which have become especially pertinent in the midst of the climate crisis and the resulting ecosystem and climate disturbances. Even as these gargantuan snags uproot and fall, they serve an important function, clearing out the canopy layer and ground layers of where they fall, allowing for new life to infiltrate into the once shaded spaces. Leonel certainly knew more than perhaps anyone else about the redwoods here, and his work with restorative ecology with the Redwoods is undoubtedly important. We certainly learned a lot, and are privileged to have been able to learn from someone as knowledgeable, and invested in redwood ecology as Leonel is. We were saddened to leave the Redwoods - although the vast amount of knowledge we had learned in the field there helped to numb the pain. So we waved goodbye to the trees, and gave our regards to the elk.
After piling into our van, lovingly known as Milk Jug, we moved onward to meet a State Parks employee who was working within the Mill Creek region and implementing a restorative ecology plan. This involved injecting wood into the creeks to provide suitable habitat for the salmonids who spawned there, along with other invertebrates that used small pebbles as refuge. As a contrast from our other stops, Walter (whom has the exact same haircut as I once had, before I started losing my hair...) discussed more on the tree extraction side of things. This was our final stop, and the ecological importance and intermingling of terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems was again drilled into our already at-capacity brains, with the hope that something would stick. Walter elaborated on the experimental tree stands, and we compared ecosystems that had endured selective thinning in both circular and other cutting arrangements in an attempt to mimic the complexity of higher succession forests. Overall, I'm certain we can all say the redwoods are something we will never forget, and that our words and pictures will never fully be able to grasp (though for the sake of our grades in this class I hope it does a sufficient job in communicating the wondrous environments we witnessed. ) Leonel and Walter were both clearly passionate about restorative ecology, even if their worldviews on timber harvesting were quite different. They both ensured our trip ended with a bang (presumably the sound of our brains exploding from information overload). Even after spending the spring semester preparing for a trip to the coastal Pacific Northwest, we still had a difficult time fathoming all that we had experienced in a little over a week. I believe that if we had spent an entire year preparing, nothing could have sufficiently readied us for the boundless beauty and tremendous amount of information that we would gather during our trip. After visiting secondary and old growth forests, Smith Rock, the sagebrush steppe, intertidal zones, and dunes, it seemed like we could not possibly fit any more information into our brains. Yet we still had three days remaining before our bittersweet journey home. On the ninth day, May 19th, we visited Cape Blanco, the western-most point of the conterminous United States. We learned that the oceanic plates are colliding with continental plates, causing the area to uplift a couple of millimeters every year. It was easy to imagine the tremendous power of the colliding plates as we stood atop windy cliffs and gazed down on crashing waves. Panoramic view of Cape Blanco The grassy outcroppings provide an important habitat for nesting birds. Cormorants, gulls, and puffins settle down in the nooks on the rugged rocks. Since the cliffs are comprised of metamorphic rock, they are not as weatherable as the more prevalent sandstone cliffs and Cape Blanco provides a more stable habitat for cliff-dwelling organisms. While ambling down the side of the steep hills, I thought the soft grasses must be a perfect place to tuck a nest. Rocks and surrounding pools provide habitat for intertidal organisms At the end of our descent over the bluffs, we reached the shore, stubbled with rocks and pebbles, which form tide pools once the high tide recedes. In between scampering over the rocks, we found crabs, snails, barnacles, anemones, star fish, nematodes, and other sea creatures nestled in the tide pools. My foot also managed to find a slippery rock and I took a tumble, much to my digital camera's dismay. Such are the risks of clamoring over algae-laden stones to search for urchins and limpets. However, this did not deter my tendency to take too many photographs; I reverted to my phone camera instead. During our exploration, Jenna also found some bull kelp (Nereocystis). She explained that if someone could break the holdfast – the long stem that allows bull kelp to anchor itself – it could be used as a horn. Thomas was able to break the holdfast with a loud snap. Ryan, Thomas, and Luciano all channeled their inner Viking and used it like a horn. Luciano also found another stalk of bull kelp and attempted to use it as a lasso, which proved to be more challenging than he had anticipated. Holding such a sturdy and heavy algae reminded us of how small we are in the grand scheme of things. Thomas, Ryan, and Luciano using bull kelp as a horn (images taken from videos courtesy of Jacqueline Lerner) After exploring the intertidal at Cape Blanco, we clambered into the van to meet Tom Calvanese, the station manager for the Marine Studies Initiative at Port Orford Field Station. He began his discussion by telling us the importance of being able to tell a good story and using those stories to change seemingly permanent systems - to rock the boat, so to speak. Then he proceeded to share his story, his work, and how people he knows are working to change systems. For example, Port Orford Sustainble Seafood is working to mitigate problems associated with fisheries, such as slave labor used to harvest shrimp and a lack of consumer knowledge when they purchase and consume seafood. Calvanese is doing his own work to educate fellow scientists and the general public. He studies rockfish, which includes over seventy species, some of which are threatened or endangered under the Endangered Species Act. To protect rockfish habitat, Calvanese uses telemetry, a device that sends out acoustic signals, so he can track where the fish tend to live. Using this equipment, he can locate each fish with four coordinates: depth, time, and x and y coordinates for location. With these data points, Calvanese and the other researchers determine whether or not the fish are in the protected habitats. They also use a passive drifter, essentially a buoy, to determine where free-floating larval fish would end up. Then he uses a plankton net to scoop up the baby fish that were drifting for three months after being released by BOFFFFs – big old fat fecund female fish. Ecologists love their acronyms! Tom holding a plankton net used to capture rockfish larvae Other research included the behavior, interactions, hormone levels, and acoustic environment of grey whales. Calvanese also studies the potential loss of the wild salmon genome as hatchery offspring are released into the ocean and do not have a strong enough smell imprint of the hatchery to return there for spawning. For a year and a half, Calvanese tracked the rockfish, working closely with constituents, like fishermen, who would be impacted by the results of his study. Thus, a common theme from the trip emerged once again; fisheries management is really about managing people. It may take decades to realize the impacts of a study. Gathering and analyzing big data is a long process, and even after analysis is complete, researchers will likely not be able to impact policy or the public's behavior without first understanding people's views on the topic. Sharing information is the first step to encouraging people to act in ways that benefit both nature and people. Being able to tell good stories is the next step to connect people and encourage them to promote the well-being of rockfish, salmon, grey whales, and any other organism. There is no doubt that our trip to Oregon gave us both the knowledge and the stories necessary to take what we learned and share it with people back home. We can not only talk about the creatures that live in intertidals and the likelihood that the wild salmon genome will disappear in 20 years; we can also share stories about using bull kelp like a battle horn, tasting red algae, and watching boats being lifted with a crane onto a dolly dock. Watching the crane lift the boat "Paiute" out of the water is just one of the many stories that we will be able to share from our trip to the Pacific Northwest. Our visits in the following days merely provided us with even more ammunition to tell powerful stories, which my friends will talk about in their blog posts. Thank you for partaking in our journey with us by following our blog. Remember to share your stories with the world!
Day 8: Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area & South Slough Estuary Reserve By Natalie McDonough5/18/2018 On day eight, we woke up at the beautiful Eel Creek Campground located in the Oregon Dunes. After making a hearty breakfast and quite a few pots of coffee, we met up with Marty and Jane, our local dune experts from the day before. We all piled into our trusty Milk Jug van and took a short drive just down the road to the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. To my surprise, there were no towering sandy dunes in sight as we pulled into the parking lot or as we started to walk along the densely vegetated trail. However, after just a few minutes, the trail opened up into beautiful sprawling dunes littered with assorted beach grasses, Gaultheria shallon Pursh (commonly known as Salal or GASH), Cytisus scoparius (commonly known as scotch broom), and even the occasional conifer. Similar to the site we had visited on the previous day, obvious signs of succession were evident. At one point, Jane stopped us and pointed out a patch of the dunes that could not have been more than a square meter. She explained to us that in the dunes, succession occurs when the presence of grasses allows for a shrub layer to form, which then can lead to the growth of conifers, eventually turning the once-open dunes into a forest. On this particular spot of land, all three stages of succession were present. We found this fascinating because, as environmental scholars, we have come to assume that large processes, such as the altering of an ecosystem, occur on dreadfully long time scales. Just a few days earlier we had learned that it would take hundreds of years of careful management in order to restore a forest to resemble its old growth ancestor; yet, in the dunes, we were seeing the commencement and conclusion of a process all at once! Our view of the dunes that shows all stages of succession, grasses, shrubs, and conifers. As Jane spoke about how massively the dunes have lost their characteristic open sand habitat, one question kept popping into my mind. If there is nothing but sand, how is it possible for these plants to not only survive, but also thrive? With no stable soil source, it seems nearly unmanageable to set down sturdy roots. Also, sand naturally lacks moisture holding abilities and, therefore, contains very low amounts of the nutrients most flora require. In areas that do have soil instead of sand, it is high in salinity and low in acidity because of the infiltration of salt water and shells made of calcium carbonate. As if all these factors alone did not make the dunes a formidable place for plants, there is also notably volatile weather. The dunes have long been known for high winds, as well as changing temperatures - issues that usually would send any plant species running. Yet, certain species have found a way to flourish through it all. After we had seen this perfect example of succession in the dunes, Marty and Jane led us to what was undoubtedly one of the most incredible places I have ever set foot upon. As soon as the trail opened to allow our group a glimpse of the massive 500-foot oblique dunes, there was a collective gasp followed by a giddy dash to arrive at the zenith. It was as if we had been transported to the Sahara, with beautiful wave patterned sand stretching as far as we could see. I have always been someone who learns best by touch, and over the course of the experience I had held sand or soil from all the places we had visited. The sand of the obliques was something entirely different. It was incredibly fine and smooth and flowed through my fingers like water. The grains were all unique, ranging in shade from nearly white to nearly black, but once united they glowed golden. Some of my favorite photos from the oblique dunes. 1)Marty and Ryan leading the way 2)The beautiful patterns formed from the wind 3)Luciano modeling the texture of the sand for my photo opportunity As we all marveled in absolute awe at the beauty of the open oblique dunes, Marty hit us with a sad truth; “for the most part, these are the last natural open dunes.” Each year, the sandy dunes lose around 50 acres to invasive species, such as the infamous European beach grass, leading to the beginning of the succession process and the eventual transformation of sand into forest. It was impossible not to fall deeply in love with the oblique dune ecosystem as we stood on its peaks and looked out over an endless ocean of sand, so naturally our follow up question was “how can we save these dunes?” Marty and Jane explained to us that when they are doing restoration and preservation, they follow the motto “preserve the best.” This means that instead of going after the most severely affected areas, they instead proactively put effort into the areas that are healthy. European beach grass is an almost impossible species to eradicate due to its extensive root system, so areas that are completely overtaken by it are expensive, time consuming, and inefficient to manage. However, in areas that have succeeded in staying free of it, if an isolated specimen shows up then it is much easier to get rid of it before the problem spreads. Because there is such a heavy focus on preserving what is left of the pristine oblique dunes, there is hope that they will not all be lost and converted to conifer forests. Beautiful panorama shot of the oblique dunes taken by Ryan. If you look very closely in the left edge you can see me throwing up my signature peace sign :) As we left Dunes National Reserve Area with sandy boots and spirits elevated to match the height of the obliques, we headed to the South Slough Estuary Reserve. It was incredible to see how drastically the environment around us could change over the course of a short van ride. When we arrived at South Slough, we were shown into an auditorium where we were given three presentations about the mission of the estuary reserve, how they monitor water quality, and the restoration efforts they are currently undertaking. After our information session, they were kind enough to personally take us around the property, which includes an area that is a prime example of an unimpacted Pacific coast estuary. We started in a section of the property that had been left unrestored after the invasion of Bromus tectorum (commonly known as cheatgrass). One of the women educating us, Alli, asked us to stop and look around and listen for a few minutes. We then went to an area that had been restored since its days of use for agriculture and repeated the same exercise. We compared what we had noticed and realized that the overarching difference in the two was the diversity that was present in the plant and animal species. In the unrestored area, it was silent and covered only in grass whereas in the restored area we heard birds and saw a multilayered forest around us, as well as evidence of wildlife, such as trees that had become beaver food. 1)Evidence of beaver population on the restored property 2)List of species and their abundance based on location within South Slough As we moved away from the topic of restoration and onto the issue of estuarial water quality, we were given the opportunity to take some realtime water sample data from Wasson Creek. The instrument we used measured salinity, temperature, and levels of dissolved oxygen. We used it to test the water in two different spots, one being closer to the ocean than the other. We also discussed the differences between salt water, brackish water, and fresh water and how they allow for different types of life to flourish within them. Our expert guides explained to us that with the data they collect as well as with their restoration efforts, they constantly try to build and sustain a respect for nature within their community. South Slough in particular focuses on education, so they have programs that allow for school trips to visit their site, as well as programs in which experts go to the schools and educate the students and teachers. Also, they pointed out to us that before they do any sort of restoration on the property, they check with local tribes to make sure that they will not be interfering or disrespecting their cultures or their uses of the land. I personally found a great deal of comfort in hearing this, as our country does not necessarily have the most spotless record when it comes to respecting its native people, even though they are the ones who best know the land beneath us. 1) The data we collected at the first testing site 2)Thomas taking a reading at the second site, which is closer to the ocean than the first After we finished off our time at the estuary reserve with a small hike around the property to take in the sights, we all squeezed into Milk Jug and enjoyed some afternoon carpool karaoke on our way to Cape Arago. Cape Arago is known for its seal population, including my personal favorites, elephant and harbor seals. The cape had a beautiful pathway located on the very edge of cliffs bordering the Pacific Ocean. Our group got to enjoy some incredible views and eventually made our way to a lookout where a volunteer had set up a high-powered telescope to view the huge mass of seals stationed on a rock offshore. It was my first time seeing elephant seals in the wild, and I was absolutely floored by how large and cumbersome they seemed as they waddled around on the rocks. As the day drew to a close, we arrived at our campsite for the night, Sunset Bay near Charleston, which was awesome in that it was so close to the seals that we could hear their barking… all night long… This gave us a perfect excuse to set up a cozy little campfire and stay up late having some deep life talks with our wise advisors, Tim and Jenna. 1)The best view in the house (I promise I was behind the barrier, just a good camera angle) 2)Sign at Cape Arago listing the different species known to reside there 3)Cheesing super hard at the beautiful ocean 4 & 5) Some shots of the beautiful marine life we saw Overall this day was definitely one of my favorites because of the sheer diversity in the ecosystems we got to explore. Starting at the dry and sandy coastal dunes, wandering in a forest bordering an estuary, and ending up on rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean is something that can hardly be done in any place other than Oregon. I personally have a passion for wildlife, especially marine species, so getting to see my first elephant seal was an absolute highlight. This was also the first night we had been able to have a fire, and getting to converse with such an incredibly intelligent and kind group of people really was a high point for me, especially as we had heard so often along the trip that environmental careers almost always end up as community building careers. Attempting to roast the perfect marshmallow. Photo credit to Jackie Lerner.
May 17th was a very busy day for the Stonehill crew in Oregon. First, we woke up at 4 am in order to explore intertidal pools during low tide. We visited Strawberry Hill and were given the chance to meet ecologist Bruce Menge and work alongside, and learn from, undergraduate and graduate students from Oregon State University. We were able to observe zonation in the intertidal pools. There are three zones in the pools; a low zone characterized by algae, anemones, sea stars and other invertebrates, a mid zone made up of mussel beds, and a high zone with barnacles and some hardy algae. These three zones are very evident (as seen in the photo below) due to stresses associated with being uncovered at low tide, as well as species interactions. From above, mussels are limited by temperature and water. From below, the mussels are limited by predation from sea stars and other predators. In 2013, a disease called Sea Star Wasting Syndrome (SSWS) began to kill off sea stars throughout Washington and California. In 2014, SSWS spread and spiked in Oregon. Sadly, scientists are still unsure of how SSWS is spreading and why exactly it attacks sea stars. In tide pools in Oregon, researchers noticed that there was a great loss in Pisaster ochraceus population. These sea stars are generally known as the purple sea star and ochre sea star, and are commonly found among the waters of the Pacific Ocean. In 1960, scientists discovered that Pisaster could act as a keystone species. In 2013 when SSWS began, researchers realized they could use it as a “natural experiment”. In order to see if Pisaster acts as a keystone species everywhere or just in some places, researchers keep track of changes in mussel beds. Where Pisaster is a keystone species, we would expect to see the mussels move down into the low zone because they are no longer being predated upon as much by the Pisaster. Without the Pisaster, the entire ecosystem is affected and its prey items (here, mussels) have the ability to thrive more than usual. With all of this new information, Oregon State University decided to conduct studies to learn more about the predator/prey interactions between mussels and their predators, including sea stars and whelks, which are predatory snails. We were able to help put in cages that would change the densities of predators to the pools as well as use the transect and quadrat method to survey the current number of predators in the intertidal pools. After our time at Strawberry Hill, we met up with a forester, Howard, Forest Service scientist, Donni, and wildlife biologist intern, Kacie, in the Siuslaw Forest. The Siuslaw Forest is classified as a late successional reserve. The forest is logged in a way that is meant to enhance habitat for endangered species, such as the Northern Spotted Owl, Coho Salmon, and the Marbled Murrelet. The foresters aim to set the Siuslaw Forest on trajectory to an old growth forest. They are doing so by increasing and leaving snags for organisms to live in, taking trees down to let in sunlight, and breaking up homogeneity by spacing the trees. In addition to learning about the plans for the forest and the species living in it, Howard let some students core trees. The tree cores allow us to look at the growth rings of a tree. This lets people determine the age of the tree in addition to the amount of growth per year. In doing so, you can then predict what the past climate and conditions were that the tree grew in. In addition to coring some trees, Donni found the most adorable vole underneath some shrubs! Natalie jumped at the chance to hold the little guy and her heart melted as soon as she held him! After leaving the Siuslaw Forest, we met with botanists, Marty and Jane, who taught us about the Oregon sand dunes, how they came to be, and how they are changing. Looking out to the ocean from the sand dunes, you can see the landscape is mostly dominated by large dunes and scattered tree islands. Additionally, directly in front of the coastline, there is dense forest that has been continually growing since 1941 after the introduction of European beach grass. The invasive species was originally introduced in order to stop the sand dunes from blowing over into the streets, other ecosystems, farmland, and towns. Invasive Scotch broom and native shore pines were also planted in order to stop the dunes from moving. As the forested areas grew larger, they stopped the wind from blowing sand further, just as originally planned. However, due to these major changes in the landscape, the dunes along the coast of Oregon will eventually become fully forested. There are multiple ways in which organizations are trying to preserve the dunes, but none of these processes will be a onetime-only event. In order to return the dunes to their former glory, or even preserve the way they currently are, prescribed burning and pulling would need to be done over and over again. During our guided tour with Marty and Jane, they took us out to the waterfront where we were able to take some photos, goof around, and of course learn. Although the water was freezing, it didn’t stop many of us from dipping our toes in the water, even if it meant getting splashed by a wave when least expecting it. On our way back to the Milk Jug, our trusty white van, some of us decided that it would be a grand idea to hike back up the six story tall oblique dune we ran down, rather than taking the easy route that trailed around the dune. After what felt like eternity, we collapsed at the top of the dune breathing (and sweating) heavily. Our wonderful visit with Marty and Jane was very informative, but we were not done learning from them yet! After spending the night at Eel Creek Campground, we would see them again the next day! But before that, we spent the night in the beautiful dunes, ate a delicious meal, enjoyed some perfectly roasted marshmallows, and sat around Ryan’s tent lamp in the sand. The jam packed day was worth every minute, even though we had to wake up at 4 am, and I think I can speak for all of the crew and say we would do it again in a heartbeat.
Day 6: Tillamook Bay Estuary Restoration, Wetland Enhancement & Drive to Hatfield By Ryan Lisa5/16/2018 Day six began a bit more wet than other days. Although it was not raining, a slight drizzle dampened the ground and with that, my mood. If there is one thing I dislike, it is being stuck in the wet, but the show must go on. We began that day with a simple hike along Cape Lookout. We did not trek very far along the trail, but we made friends with a banana slug along the way. Our turn around point was a spot where the forest broke and we gazed upon the mighty Pacific Ocean. We could see the beach and the forest surrounded by fog. Tim taught us about how these sitka spruce trees use the fog and its drip to provide moisture to grow. In a land where water is king, being able to harvest water from fog is a useful tactic. We held a lecture or two in the parking lot where Jackie taught us all about sage grouse. She attempted to show us her best impression, but none of us were convinced that she would make it as a grouse. We packed up Milk Jug and headed towards Whiskey Creek Shellfish Hatchery. We got there a bit early, so we began to look around. Jenna spotted some harbor seals offshore. We watched for just a bit before heading off to our destination down the road. We were greeted by a beautiful dog in the bed of a pickup truck while we waited for our tour guide. Alan Barton, the manager, met with us outside and provided some background. Whiskey Creek breeds oysters to create larvae which can be sold or grown into full oysters. The larvae can be used as feed, and the adults can be used in restaurants. We were walked through the whole process, from larvae to adult. Alan showed us the lab where they tested water to see how much they would need to adjust to keep the oysters happy. The hatchery must deal with the changes that the ocean is undergoing due to climate change. The temperature and acidity are increasing, while the dissolved oxygen is decreasing. The water is adjusted for that in the facility. He also showed us where they grow different types of algae. We learned an incredible amount of what business can do when coupled with research from university. Alan hopes to make the hatchery more ecofriendly by finding a way to use renewable, clean energy instead of propane. We rounded off our day by meeting with partners from the Tillamook Estuary Partnership. Kristi gave us a general background of what they do, which is to work to restore and maintain estuaries. York then showed us his work in measuring water temperature and pollution. These are critical to assisting the salmon populations that appear to be dwindling. Scott finished up the presentations by showing us what a restoration area looks like over the years. Scott has worked on several restoration projects in the area and was kind enough to take us to two different sites. The first site is where I took lead and learned that hidden among the invasive reed canary grass were plants with lots of thorns. Would not suggest. After paving a path, we stopped and talked about management for the invasive species and future plans. The reed canary grass is the main issue, but they are slowly reducing the amount of area that it covers. The second site was much more beautiful, with so much open space and less things to prick me. Our last stop was with Maysa to the Northwest Oregon Restoration Partnership (NORP) nursery. This is the place where native plants are grown for the restoration projects. The place itself is quite large and capable of producing about 75 thousand plants a year. These plants include the legendary big leafed maple, my personal favorite. We learned that the nursery works with troubled juveniles to help teach life, social, and work skills. I also coincidentally ran into my great great great grandson Gerald. Gerald was a child big leaf maple, which I believe I was many many moons ago. I felt my connection to Gerald and I hope he grows big and gets to do a lot of work with breezes. We were introduced to Harold the Hemlock, a bonsai hemlock. Harold is an inspiration as he was completely surrounded with invasive species, but found a way to keep on keeping on. We drove down to Hatfield where we tried to fall asleep early since we had an early morning planned. The guys’ dorm was having a laugh so we fell asleep a little too late, but we made some great memories on this day. We learned the work that can be accomplished when people come together for a common cause. Whether it be creating a more sustainable hatchery, or working to restore estuaries and wetlands, a partnership increases the efficiency tenfold. Harold taught us the power of perseverance, which is something every college student will definitely need.
Oftentimes when a person sees a dead standing tree or a rotting log, they don’t realize what an important role they play in the ecosystem. Not only does a dead tree provide a crucial habitat and food for many threatened bird species, but it also leads to a diversity of the forest and stream ecosystems. For example, fallen logs that land in the stream can alter its flow. Upstream, the partial blocking of the flow forms shallow gravel pools that are ideal for nurseries, while the water flowing over the log carves into the sediment downstream to create cold, oxygen-rich deep troughs that fish could retreat to if the conditions in the stream change. The logs also force the water to move underground, keeping the temperatures of the stream low, something that is very important with increasing temperatures affecting Salmon. Then we got the chance to see a neighboring old growth riparian forest. This region was preserved primarily to protect the endangered spotted owl that could only nest in hollows in large old growth trees. The few Douglas firs growing there were huge, and spaced out with Red Cedar, Pacific Yew, and Hemlocks of all different ages. There was also a healthy selection of undergrowth species and wild flowers growing where minor disturbances allowed sunlight to reach the forest floor. There were plenty of giant logs covered with moss and some had tiny Hemlock sprouts growing out of them to take advantage of the nutrients and sun.
After that we visited a gage that measured how much sediment was accumulating from the river. We also discussed two major landslide events that happened within the area, and their likely causes. It turns out that roads are the top cause for landslides because of the way they were built. The roads were cut into the mountain sides, and all the extra sediment was dumped on the side. This created very steep slopes of loose soil that would frequently cause landslides. Clear cutting was the second largest cause for landslides because there was no longer any vegetation to anchor the soil. I feel like we learned so much today, about the importance of logs and standing dead wood and the history of land management, and how it can so drastically alter the diversity of the forest and streams. The forest service has grown immensely, learning how everything is connected, and how one can not alter one aspect of the ecosystem without altering a million others - many in ways that can have some really negative effects. It is amazing how one tiny decision, such as removing logs from the streams, could have such drastic consequences for the fish populations. We may never fully understand all the intricate connections that make an ecosystem whole, but at the crux of the climate change crisis, it is more important than ever to learn about them, before we reach a point where the old growth forests are gone forever. A group of us got up early to catch first light on Smith Rock. On day four, we woke up to a stunning view in Smith Rock National Park. The park is primarily known for its massive rock formations that are world-renowned amongst the climbing community. In its history, the rocks in the park have aided in the development of the sport of rock climbing and many of its techniques. That morning, we met with Ranger Dave who gave us some history on the geology and ecology of the park. The towering formations primarily consist of three types of rock. Tuff, which is crumbly and tan in color, was created by the cooling of ash that landed as a result of the eruption of the Crooked River Caldera, the 7th largest in the world. The red rhyolite came in after the collapse of the caldera. Basalt, which can be identified by its bubbly forms, was created most recently, about 350,000 years ago, by the slow-motion flow of magma through a fissure created by the Newberry Caldera eruption. Thanks to the powerful force of erosion, the Crooked River was able to create these beautiful rock formations that we see today. The cliffs also serve as important nesting spots for raptors. While Ranger Dave was talking with us, he was also able to point out a Bald Eagle nest in a nearby tree with two seven-week-old chicks in it! We saw one of the parents out and about soaring through the air, letting out the occasional screech to let us know where it was. This was an absolutely amazing sight since many of us had never seen a Bald Eagle in its natural habitat before. Smith Rock National Park is a small part of a broader system of high desert ecoregions that make up a vast majority of the northwest part of the United States. These regions are characterized by low precipitation, about fifteen inches per year, and high elevation, usually between 3,000 - 7,500 feet above sea level. The drought tolerant plant communities found in these regions differ from those found in your average desert in that they must also be able to withstand the cold temperatures of winter as a result of the higher elevation. In the past, the area around Smith Rock was known to be sagebrush steppe. We would see examples of this ecosystem later in the day before our trip to the High Desert Museum. Shifts in the vegetation from the natural sagebrush steppe to what we saw during our time occurred as a result of humans. Ranger Dave explained these changes as the “triple whammy”. First, the fur trade caused the removal of beavers, effectively lowering the water table. Second, grazing of sheep and cattle degraded the natural grasslands. Third, humans began suppressing fires that are important in maintaining the natural state of this ecosystem. In the past, Native Americans helped contribute to the natural fire regime by periodically burning some of the land themselves, but this mindset completely flipped as Europeans spread across the country. As a result of these changes, the low brushes and bunch grasses were replaced with cheatgrass as the juniper trees became more abundant and grouped together more closely. The increased number of juniper trees drives down the water table further and prohibits the natural grasses from growing because the natural fire regime is no longer maintaining the ecosystem. Ranger Dave left us with a powerful poem that he adapted from a famous forester, Baba Dioum, before we parted ways: "In the end, we only save what we love, we only love what we know, and we can only know what we learn." After our morning with Ranger Dave, we packed up the van and headed south back towards Bend (thankfully without a trip to urgent care this time) to the Oregon Badlands Wilderness. We made a couple stops in order to see what the sagebrush steppe is really supposed to look like. We saw the low lying areas, which was the dried up bed of a long disappeared lake, dominated by vast expanses of sagebrush and rabbit brush along with native bunch grasses. This habitat is very important to a bird species, known as the Sage Grouse, which has adapted to rely heavily on the vegetation for food, shelter, and reproduction. The birds are known primarily for their courting displays during the mating season. Males puff out brightly colored air-sacs in their chest in order to attract females with their display. Currently, their numbers are declining due to loss of suitable habitat, similar to what has happened around Smith Rock. The higher ground of the sagebrush steppe is home to the Juniper trees because of the limited water availability. These trees can live to be thousands of years old and provide habitat for many species. When they die and fall to the ground, they continue to provide habitat for many other species for centuries more. In the area where we stopped to see the juniper forest, the trees were much bigger and more spread out than they were around Smith Rock. This is a very open canopy forest because of the strong competition for resources and nutrients. The soil here is made primarily of about 2 feet of volcanic ash from the eruption of the Newberry Caldera and the creation of Crater Lake by Mt. Mozama. Some of the juniper trees exhibit a twisting pattern up their trunks, which allows the tap root to distribute nutrients evenly around the tree. The maintaining of a natural fire regime in these areas is vital to the maintaining of these characteristics. The native bunch grasses bring the fire to the base of the junipers instead of just burning up quickly like the cheatgrass. On this hike we also got to witness the magical power of the cryptogamic layer that lies sporadically on top of the soil. It is made up of various lichens, mosses, fungi, and bacteria, which absorb water and nutrients for photosynthesis. The amazing part comes when these brown patches turn green as the chlorophyll activates in the presence of water. Also on this hike Tim brought us to a tucked away spot with a lava tube where we saw evidence of a Native American family that used to live there. A lava tube creates a cave, which these Natives found shelter in, as the outsides of the flow cool and harden while the molten lava continues to flow within it. Seeing remnants of a life lived by people from a very different time was really something, especially in such a harsh environment. Following our outings into the Oregon Badlands Wilderness, we made our way into Bend for a trip to the High Desert Museum. We had a tour scheduled at the museum, but we were able to look around a bit before it started. One of the first things we saw when walking into the museum was an open air enclosure that was home to two very cute porcupines named Juniper and Honeysuckle. In addition to exhibits about the Native American history and the history of rock climbing in the region, there were exhibits highlighting a lot of the prominent animals that can be found in the region, including various lizards, snakes, and raptors. There was a large portion of the museum that was outdoors as well. During this part of our tour, we got to play a game of “meet a tree” where one person was blindfolded and led to a random tree by their partner and then had to figure out which tree it was once the blindfold was removed. Some of us were better at this than others and a few of us discovered that the Ponderosa Pine smells like butterscotch. Kelsey also stopped to talk about the prescribed burn that was planned on some of the museum’s land in order to protect the buildings, as well as the nearby towns, from future fires of greater magnitude, and to help contribute to the natural fire regime that is so important to the ecosystem. Our tour concluded in the raptor exhibit building where Shannon and Ryan got to pluck some invasive European starlings so that some of the birds on display could have dinner. We wrapped up our day with a quick trip to the Sullivan’s home in Sunriver for dinner. We arrived to another one of Deb’s absolutely amazing fresh cooked meals. This time it was chicken enchiladas and boy were they good after the long hot day we had in the desert. We enjoyed our delicious meal while posted up in a circle of chairs in the driveway before loading back into the van to continue our journey to H.J. Andrews Experimental Forest for the night. Along the way, we stopped in a neat little diner for some ice cream (tots for Ryan). That night after we had set up camp, we were even treated to one of Natalie’s delicacies, the toasted PB&J. It was good eats all around, and we would need it for the long day in the forest that lay ahead of us in the morning. Natalie cheffing some grilled PB&J's for everyone to try.
As day three finishes up, I can - with absolute certainty - say it was quite an eventful day in Oregon. May 13, 2018 was filled with sight-seeing, lots of lessons about Oregon ecosystems, and of course a trip to the Bend, OR Urgent Care. Don't worry, I'll tell you all about the trip to urgent care later, but first... Our day started off with saying goodbye to where we stayed for the first day, Corvallis, OR, to head off for the real adventure that awaited us. We all squished into our clown car to drive over the Cascade Mountains with a few stops on the way to see a mixed conifer forest and a mountain hemlock forest. Our first stop was at Trout Creek Trail, where we hiked a little ways in to see the astonishing diversity of mixed forests, in which the top canopy is allowing light to seep through to the ground. This process allows for the growth of trees, shrubs, ferns, and much more under the main canopy. The ability for the undergrowth to be so diverse and dense provides suitable habitats for many creatures. Throughout the rest of the trip we will see how different forests vary in layering, diversity, size, and canopy characteristics based on the climate conditions, disturbances, and growth of the main canopy. This stop was a good start for building our understanding of how and why various forests grow and look different. View of the sunlight seeping through the trees allowing for a diverse understory in a mixed forest. Next, we stopped at Tombstone Pass in Willamette Forest to see the mountain hemlock forest. We had hopes to hike the subalpine to observe a diverse wildflower display; unfortunately, the snow did not allow us to do so. Instead, we walked a little ways in and had a talk about limnology next to a flowing a stream. Limnology is the study of the biological, chemical, and physical features of lakes and other bodies of freshwater. When limnologists study streams, especially their water quality, the scientists break the streams up into segments, called orders. This allows scientists to map out various orders of streams and examine streams of the same order within a given study area. From this, they can identify the pH of the water, various stresses on stream ecology, nutrient concentrations within the water, etc. For a stream to be a second order, two first order streams have to join together, then two second order streams must join together to form a third order stream. If a first and a second order stream join together, then it is not a third order stream; instead, it remains as a second order stream. Studying streams is very important because scientists are worried about increasing temperatures, sediment transport, and effects on water quality from urban areas. For example, as climate change worsens, temperatures will continue to increase, which increases the rate of evapotranspiration. This will decrease the amount of snowfall available for replenishing water in local bodies of water. In addition, warming water temperatures causes a decrease in dissolved oxygen, which fish "breathe." Trout and Salmon are amongst the fish that require a great deal of dissolved oxygen to survive. Also, many fish, especially Trout and Salmon, are sensitive to water temperature changes since they need cool water, usually less than 59℉. Many places in Oregon are especially worried about changes in streams because of the Coho Salmon, which are on the endangered species list. As we continue through our trip we will observe the various differences between streams due to impacts from natural and/or human-caused events. Ryan having some fun in the snow in the parts of Tombstone Pass that we could hike on. After our time seeing differences between forests and learning about stream ecology, we set off in the van once again to have lunch at Clear Lake. It was during this part of the day that I may have learned one of the most important lessons of the day: “Do not go running into lakes without shoes on or else you may end up walking out of urgent care with five stitches in your foot.” Although, if I were to do it all over again, I’d run right back into the freezing water of Clear Lake, which rarely reaches above 43℉, because the experience was worth every stitch. Clear Lake, although quite cold, is the prettiest lake I have ever set my eyes upon. Since the water is so cold and is groundwater-fed without much of an inlet stream, the water is nutrient depleted, which means many types of algae can not grow, keeping the water clear. The lack of plant life prevents many types of fish from living there, keeping the water eerily still. In addition, since the water is so pure from the lack of nutrients and plant life, you can see straight to the bottom, allowing you to gaze upon the fallen trees, rocks, and any animals that can live in the cold water. In fact, Clear Lake is more fascinating than just being cold, pure H2O; about 100 feet below the surface, there is a petrified forest of upright trees that were killed approximately 3,000 years ago when volcanic activity created the lake. The trees have been preserved for all of these years because of the freezing water, making this lake one of the most fascinating and unique dive spots for any who dare risk a few stitches during their adventure into the lake. Unless you're lucky like Natalie, who swam with me without getting a cut, just wear shoes into the water. :) View of Clear Lake. If you look closely you can see a log through the water. A perfect exemplification of how pure and clear the water is in this lake. The trip to Clear Lake came to an interesting end with the cut in my foot and the use of Natalie's training from being a lifeguard to wrap up my foot. Thus, we headed off onto our quick, three to four hour divergence from plans, which included a search for an urgent care. Once my foot was all stitched up and we were ready to go, our group gathered back into the van, known to us as Milk Jug, so we could get back on track with our trip. Unfortunately, the pit-stop at urgent care didn’t leave much time left in the day, so we headed straight to the campsite at Smith Rock State Park after one last stop. Although fixing my foot up caused us to miss the chance to go to a fish hatchery and a waterfall, the gift of delicious ice cream and the promise of seeing the waterfall another day helped alleviate the disappointment. Huge thanks to Tim for taking us to Goody's for some ice cream to make an unlucky situation feel insignificant. After we all enjoyed our ice cream, we headed off to Smith Rock State Park, located in Oregon’s High Desert. It is home to many geologic formations because of its complex history. Being made of tuff, rhyolite, and basalt, not only makes the rock formations beautiful to look at, but it also makes them ideal for rock climbing of various difficulties. Generally, Smith Rock is considered the birthplace of modern American sport climbing. The three different types of rocks were formed at three different times from three different events; then, the Crooked River cut its way through the layers of rocks that had formed, thus creating the incredible features of this now well-known, climbing, hiking, and camping site. Not only known for its human-visitors, but Smith Rock is also home to many organisms, including one of my favorites that I finally had the chance to see in the wild: the Bald Eagle. Tomorrow we will venture with Ranger Dave to learn more about the cultural and geologic history of Smith Rock; we also hope to observe a Bald Eagle nest in the morning. Numbed toe feeling good after setting up tent with a perfect view of one of Smith Rock State Park's rock formations behind me. Selfie time at Smith Rock with (from left) Jackie, Natalie, Ryan, me, and Thomas. For now, we'll spend the rest of the night enjoying taco salads and some star gazing before we head into our tents for the night. On the first day of the trip, we ventured over to Bald Hill Farm and met with our tour guide, Matt. The first section of the Farm that we looked at was an open, field-like area with a lot of space in between the trees. There, he talked about how important it is for there to be this space in between trees. This allows for the branches of the trees to grow big and eventually break, creating habitats for nesting birds. However, if the hole in the tree is large enough, sometimes big cats, like cougars, can find a home in them. That was really cool to me, but out of the whole tour, this was my least favorite part of the Farm. As we continued to walk, we started seeing more and more life and whipped out our binoculars to try and spot the Acorn Woodpecker. Interestingly, this bird creates holes in snags and plugs them with acorns to save them for a later time. We saw all of the holes in the dead wood and managed to see a couple of the woodpeckers themselves. Holes in a tree made by Acorn Woodpeckers. As we continued to walk, we spotted other cool species of birds, checked out the cattle, and got a fantastic view. We then climbed the poison oak filled hill, which brought us to the more densely vegetated part of the Farm. This part of the tour was definitely my favorite part, and I could not help but think I was walking through Jurassic Park. The trees were massive, and everything looked prehistoric. There was lots of shade with beams of sunlight just barely finding its way through the canopy onto the thick ground layer. This section of the tour easily received a 10/10 on the beauty index for me. This was a rating system we all used on the trip where we determined how cool or beautiful we thought a specific stop was, and still now after the trip, the Bald Hill Farm was one of my favorite stops. Views of the Cattle grazing in an open field and our hike through the shaded forest areas with the occasional beams of light shining through. The primary goal for the farm, as Matt described, is to attempt to preserve and recover specific native species to Oregon. To do this, the land has to be a particular way for those animals to thrive. This is where the human interference becomes extremely beneficial, where I have always thought that human interference was negative. What Matt showed me is that we can alter a landscape so that it will favor a specific species, and allow it to recover if it is endangered. Piece of land on Bald Hill Farm where they have altered the landscape by thinning trees to promote more productive habitats for various bird species to thrive. The farm exemplifies the proper utilization of human intelligence and ability to alter the landscape for the benefit of animals and other organisms, rather than using it to destroy and strip the land void of all its value, beauty and diversity, which is what we are doing far too much nowadays.
Finally it was the day, the day to start an experience we would remember for a lifetime. On May 11th, three cars full of Stonehill students headed to Logan Airport in Boston for their first flight. Vehicle after vehicle we arrived, day packs on our backs and duffels thrown over our shoulders. After getting through security and eventually making our way to our gate, we waited impatiently (at least I did) for our first flight to arrive. Eventually, we all piled onto our first plane that flew to New York. The flight went by quickly, even for Doug who was traveling on a plane for the first time. He did it with such grace, you couldn’t even tell he was nervous. Once we landed and after some more impatient waiting, our plane to Portland arrived. Nearly six hours later, we landed in Portland and met Tim and Jenna by the white van we would be driving (and napping) in for the next 11 days. Very sleepy, we all got in the van and arrived at the Sullivan’s house in Corvallis at 12:30 am PDT, which meant it was way past my bedtime according to EST. Going to bed that night, I don’t think I realized what the following days would bring me: new friendships, new knowledge, new experiences, and happiness. GoPro footage of the group during the first flight!
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