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8 March ~2008
Yesterday I helped out with a White Tailed Ptarmigan Survey for the Colorado Division of Wildlife. Ptarmigan are a grouse-like bird that molt three times a year (almost constantly) so that they blend in to the alpine environment. In the winter they are pure white and grow feathery snowshoes, and live on willow buds from November through May. They are the only bird that remains in the alpine zone throughout the winter.
Ptarmigan burrow into snowbanks when the weather is bad, and actually gain weight during winter, by conserving energy and eating all those willow buds. In the summer the male stakes out territory and calls to attract a female. They tend to have one partner for life. He stays with his mate until the eggs are hatched and then takes off to flock together with other males, higher up in the alpine. In the winter the birds stay flocked together, usually segregated by sex, to find food and to watch for predators.
I have seen Ptarmigan many times in their summer plumage. They seem very docile and allow you to approach close. Once I was fishing at an alpine lake and two Ptarmigan walked onto the large boulder I was sitting on, no more than six feet away. Twice last summer I heard them come close to my tent at night. Their call seems to be mammal like, like a squirrel.I have never seen a Ptarmigan in the winter, and was really hoping to on this trip. We met at 6am to carpool up to Georgetown, and after breakfast and an explanation on how we were going to conduct the survey, we drove up to Guanella pass to 11,400 feet in Four-Wheel Drive vehicles. From there we snowshoed up a mile where we split up into four groups, with each group surveying a different area. The ideas was to walk through the terrain spaced about 100 feet apart, looking for Ptarmigans or Ptarmigan sign, such as scat or wing marks in the snow. When we found some we would mark the position with a GPS and record the coordinates in a notebook.
Down at the restaurant when they asked who wanted to volunteer for the more strenuous survey areas I raised my hand. I found out that meant walking up a valley, then turning to climb a steep slope, and proceed along the countour of the slope before returning to the valley.
During our survey we heard Coyotes yipping from up above this, at around 11am, which seems an ood time for them to be yipping. At our short lunch break I explained to the other members of our crew that I had that happen once before while hiking in the alpine. I was descending into a valley during a June trip and thought I heard a puppy barking. A half hour later a coyote howled from up above us. What I figured was that we surprised a coyote family and when Mom got her pups safely to higher ground she or Dad howled to let Ben and Maggie know they were in a coyote's territory.
Climbing that slope was tough, because just before the lip the snow was deep and soft. We remained split up as we climbed the slope, and gathered together at the top. I found that everyone else had as much trouble as I did - walking two or three steps and then having your snowshoe sink two or three feet. It is unnerving when you put your pole in the snow for some leverage up and it sinks in all the way to the handle.
I figured that was the worst of it but found it was only the beginning. Staying evenly spaced meant we had to go through tall willows, which were mostly buried by the snow. Air pockets are present under the willow thickets and it didn't matter what size of snowshow you had on (mine were over 30 inches long), you were going to sink when you stepped onto one. It was physically grueling - walking five feet, then sinking in and falling down. I can honestly say I don't know if I have done anything so tough.
Once when I was trying to pull myself up I pulled a muscle in my leg, and worried that the injury might make it hard for me to walk out of there. Fortunately it went away after five minutes.
I told someone that to me the trouble we had signifies the danger of following a leader and ignoring your common sense. You can push yourself beyond what is safe just to stay up. There is no way I would have climbed that slope or gone through those tall willows if I was alone, considering how loose the snow was.
But we did see Ptarmigans and marked several scat piles. Now it seems like it was worth it, but yesterday when I was stuck in that bad patch of snow I probably would not have said so. It was beautiful up there though, and reminded me why I love Colorado so much - the freedom of the alpine. Many of the best days in my life have been above timberline.
I got through it however, and after taking a nap late in the evening, downed a couple of Tylenol and went to the Grizzly Rose and danced up a storm. The Chas Blakmore band from Lexington Kentucky has the best musicians of any band that comes through.
Just before midnight they played a scorching version of Johnny B Good. My partner was a brunette with long hair, about 5 feet 3 inches, and had incredible balance. We did a very hot swing/two-step. At the end I spinned her several times with my left hand over her head, and slipped my right arm around her back on the last spin to lean her over just as the song ended - perfect timing. She stood up and hugged me, her face flushed with emotion. She thanked me again and again, and said she didn't know how to do any of that.
Yeah, Colorado. I love this state, the mountains and the women.
JohnnyBGoode (enter userid of music and password of music)
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