Yellowstone National Park

I've thought about changing the title of my blog to something that doesn't involve flycatchers--because I don't study them anymore. But, flycatchers really have had a significant impact on my life and career...so I will continue to involve them in my entries. What does the willow flycatcher have to do with Yellowstone you ask? You'll see.

I went to Yellowstone National Park back in 2006. It's a very well known park for several reasons. It's one of the best parks to see an abundance of wildlife up close (7 species of native ungulates, 2 bear species, 50 other mammals, and over 300 birds have been recorded there)--but it also tends to be quite crowded with humans. It was actually the world's first National Park (1872) and it is larger than Rhode Island and Delaware combined. It is also well known for its geology: it experiences about 2,000 earthquakes a year and has more than 10,000 thermal features and 300 active geysers. Pretty cool, eh?

When Yellowstone National Park was created in 1872, gray wolf populations were already in decline in Montana, Wyoming and Idaho. The creation of the national park did not provide protection for wolves or other predators, and government predator control programs in the early 1900s essentially helped eliminate the gray wolf from Yellowstone. The last wolves were killed in Yellowstone in 1926. I won't go into all the details, but wolves were successfully re-introduced to the park in 1995 and it has changed the entire ecosystem.

In simple terms, wolves meant fewer elk, and fewer elk resulted in re-growth of riparian systems--more willow! And willow is obviously good for willow flycatchers and other birds. Beavers are also doing very well in the park. Scavengers like ravens, eagles, wolverines, and bears have also benefited. Coyotes have declined, so pronghorn numbers are up. With less competition from elk for grass, the bison in the park are doing better, too.

"Tug on anything at all and you'll find it connected to everything else in the universe." - John Muir

Someday I will return to Yellowstone to see wolves and a grizzly.

Beavers: good or bad?

Although beavers play an important role in the ecosystem, they can also cause problems that are sometimes more than a nuisance. Beaver dams can actually cause flooding. This can wipe out land that farmers need for crops or livestock. On the other hand, they create wetlands that absorb large amounts of water, which counteracts the effects of heavy rainfall and can prevent potential floods. In addition, beaver dams act as natural filters that keep sediment and toxins from flowing into streams and on into oceans.

For willow flycatchers, an endangered species that relies fairly heavily on wetlands and riparian systems, it is often thought that beavers are very important. The picture below is from Carmen Valley in Tahoe National Forest in California. This was a picture I took of a willow flycatcher territory in 2007--he never acquired a female but it seemed like a pretty sweet place to hang out.

I returned to the territory in 2008 to resight an unbanded male here, and again no female. I wasn't able to check it out in 2009 and didn't even know if there was a male here again. But just this past week I was in Carmen Valley again and took the following photo of the same territory:


Most of the willow is gone or dead, and at least 3 beavers were seen swimming in the area at the same time. So in this case, it seems the beavers did some damage. Maybe its just too many beavers for one area.

Where's the willow flycatcher you ask? Hes still here--I saw him (or at least someone) flycatching like crazy over his new lake front property and hes taken up residence behind where I stood for the photo where there are a few willows in some kind of drainage ditch. I'm curious to see if he stays--but I have no idea why he would. Carmen Valley, in my opinion, has several other great places with more willow that he could occupy. If he is really the same bird--is he that site faithful that he won't move after these drastic changes?

Fledglings

Hey—remember when this blog was about flycatchers? No? It wasn’t ever about flycatchers?! Well fine then. My apologies for letting this slip into more of a diary style blog than anything else. Things just haven’t been all that interesting while in graduate school. I’ll be on the move again soon. But I should probably at least talk about my research once or twice before I move on.

Willow flycatchers are kind of a drab little bird. But they certainly have personality. (And you thought this was a science based blog—ha!) The subspecies I work with is listed as endangered in California, and the southwestern subspecies is federally listed as endangered. Population declines since the 1940s were attributed to loss of habitat and an increase in nest predation rates. I should also mention that these guys nest in wet montane meadows and both the water in the meadow (largely from snow melt) and the riparian shrubs (mostly willow) are extremely important to them, at least in our study sites. When I say “our” I mean me and all the students that have been studying this little bird over the past decade. The project I’ve been working on has been monitoring the Sierra Nevada population from just south of Lake Tahoe, north to Lassen Volcanic National Forest since 1997. This summer will be the last year of the study.

One part of the breeding cycle that hadn’t been looked at in this population yet was the postfledging period. That is, the time between when the young leave the nest and when they migrate. So that’s what I attempted to study at over the past 2 years. To do this, I banded the young so I could tell them apart from each other after they fledged, and I located the little buggers daily to see where they were and how many of them were alive.

If you have never seen fledging birds just out of nest…you are missing out…so cute! They like to huddle together on a branch and make adorable noises. Science. Right. Sorry. Basically I found that between 46% and 76% of the fledglings will survive to the end of the dependence period (after which they don’t depend on their parents for food and protection). So to get better picture of why this is important, think about it this way:

Typically willow flycatcher females have 1-2 nest attempts per season. The chances of a nest surviving to fledge is usually about 50%. So if you have 20 total nests, 10 of them will reach the fledging date. If you had 3 nestlings per nest (which would actually be a little high) you would have 30 fledglings and fecundity (# fledglings/female) would be 3, if you had 10 females (probably low, I’m keeping the math simple). And some say an annual output of 2.23 young/female is the minimum needed to keep most populations of small passerines stable—so we’re good! But wait, say you lose another 50% of those fledglings after they leave the nest. Now you’ve got 15 fledglings/10 females, giving a fecundity estimate of 1.50 which is not going to stabilize the population.

More importantly, fecundity estimates from this study were already estimated to be below 2.23, before my research was done—meaning that we were already showing population declines while overestimating the number of young that make it to migration each year! Bottom line: these birds are simply not producing enough young to keep their populations stable. And a lot of loss occurs during the breeding season.

So…what do we learn after 10 years of studying a declining species? They are still declining! Sigh. What now? More on this later. I don’t want to bore you to death. What a cliff hanger!

They're Here!

The WIFLs are here! The WIFLs are here! You know, last year I tried not to make a huge deal out of the WIFL arrival because my other study species (DUFL) would be jealous. But I just can't help being excited about seeing my first WIFL of the year. After a few meadow visits with no WIFLs it was music to my ears when I heard a fitz-bew this morning. Actually I thought I was imagining it...

Three cute WIFL males were singing their hearts out this morning at Milton. I love how they throw back their heads and give it their all when they sing from the tops of snags and high pine branches. The river is still very deep from all of the snow melt so I decided not to attempt crossing this time. Starting off the season with wet waders is a bad idea (they never dry!). Luckily I brought my scope--so Hannah and I resighted those badboys from across the river. Only one was banded--which still makes me wonder where on earth are all the unbanded birds coming from?! I thought we had that under control...

So my quest this season is to find out what meadow near Milton could be pumping out WIFL babies that we are missing. Its possible they were from Webber--sometimes we don't band all the nestlings there. But the more exciting option is to go on a road trip (or by foot) and look for willow in undiscovered meadows (well, at least new to me).

I'll keep you posted on the Milton UB bird mystery...

And by the way, the male DUFL are here too and ready to go--maybe even pairing up. So we'll be kicking it into high gear soon enough. Those guys are great too! Them and their little bobbing tails and little do-hic bean dip calls!

Finally WIFL Time!

Arrived in Truckee on the 13th for my 5th and final season of willow flycatcher work in the Sierras. I hit up the Wild Cherries for lunch, got the keys to the mansion, and made myself at home. The house is pretty shnazzy as usual.

I've spent 6 months preparing. I started hiring people back in November. After winter break I started getting my proposal fixed up for my second season of research. I also set up the rental vehicles, the house (what a mess!), orders some equipment, and put the new employees through lots of paperwork (ugh). So, with a slightly smaller budget this year we have a crew of 9 including me. Not too bad--but the lowest it has ever been. We are not monitoring Warner Valley nests like we did last year. And Constanza has officially graduated (yay!) so no mammal work. But we will be monitoring and resighting birds in many many meadows as usual in the Truckee, South Lake, and Warner areas--I think its about 40 sites. Plus, the new addition to the operation are the nest cameras. I love having the opportunity to work with electronics and possibly set things on fire (sarcasm). No conspecific attraction work this year either because of fewer people-- a surprise to me as it may have worked last year, but hey, I don't make those decisions.

I visited Martis the other day and briefly surveyed the usual WIFL territories. No WIFL, but I did find a sneaky DUFL. Same result at Perazzo, LT 1, and LT 3. So it seems that have not yet arrived, but I'm excited to see who does arrive when they finally get here! Will probably take the truck out tomorrow morning for another check before I return our rental truck.

Other than premature WIFL searching I've been carting equipment all over the place. Two loads of stuff in my car from Reno, plus and 8 hour round trip in a truck to Mammoth Lakes. Still missed a few things! Ugh. Why do we have so much crap?!

Truckee is the same...except that the Truckee Diner appears to be for sale and therefore closed. I don't know what I will do without their fabulous milkshakes this summer. (Its an original 1940s diner moved from West Chester, PA, and renovated in 1995) Plus there is construction on Donner Lake Rd. that is blocking people from dock parties! I took some pics of Donner though. And I had forgotten how beautiful those snowy mountains really were around Yosemite! Sigh...I love the Sierras. Am going to miss them.

That's all for now. The office is set and the crew is starting to come in today. Although I'm not really looking forward to training a brand new crew on my own--for the past 4 years we've always had at least a couple "returnees" so I didn't really have to do much work. :-) But I'm excited about the new crew.

Photos of good old Donner Lake:

Flycatching Update

In about 2 months I'll be headed to Truckee, CA for my final field season of willow flycatcher work. I've hired 7 techs, and I am hoping for a great season working with them. It wil be my 5th summer in the Sierras, and its a little sad to think its the last, but its also exciting to get to move on to something new in a year or so.

I presented at the Texas Chapter TWS meeting last weekend. Those meetings are quite entertaining--if you hang out with the right cowboys. Texas is such an odd place, but of course it's finally started to grow on me. There was a conversation in the van on the way home about me and Melissa buying some boots befor we leave. I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. Of course, actually buying them is another story.

Everyone in my lab is headed out into the field already, which means I'll start getting lonely and wanting to run off into the field with them. So, here are some cute pictures from the field, just as a reminder of why I'm doing what I'm doing. The first two of these are Constanzas photos.

Letters from the field: Truckee Season 1

Just to add to my previous post, here are some things I wrote during my first season in 2005 on the WIFL project. Amber--you might find these somewhat entertaining. I left a few present day comments after each comment from 2005.

"My first week of work went pretty well. I’m still getting used to how to do everything and I try not to get distracted looking at other birds! Wednesday we went to a field site called Perazzo which was a really beautiful meadow. I saw mallards, buffleheads, cinnamon teals, northern pintails, ring-necked duck, killdeer, and a Wilson’s phalarope. We also saw a beaver for a few seconds…we were crossing one of the creeks in our hip boots just as the beaver tried to swim through. He took off but then surfaced again a little bit later. I’m still learning all my flycatchers and warblers--the main ones we focus on are willow flycatchers, dusky flycatchers, and yellow warblers. But there are several other birds that either sound like one of them or look like one of them…or both. And we have to know all their sounds…even tiny little chips. The sites we need to search for nests in are huge…like 10 woodlots (reference to a 35 acre woodlot that I did my undergraduate research in)! The leg band re-sighting on the willow flycatchers is funny too--there’s only one band per leg and the little guys like to sit on their legs when they sing. Plus the colors are crazy…like electric yellow, mauve, and light green."

Perazzo (pictures above) is still my favorite meadow, hands down. But the meadows seem much smaller now. And the resighting is still a pain, but I don't enter the meadow without my scope! I'm pretty sure I didn't resight many birds correctly until my 3rd year when Heather laid into me for not trying hard enough and only focusing on finding nests. She was right. I can do both now.

"I found my first nest on Thursday…a yellow warbler…I watched the female carry this huge fluff ball of nesting material to the nest. It was so big she had trouble getting it through the branches to the nest. It was 32 degrees this morning when we started and I thought my toes were going to fall off. I had to put gloves on them…guess I should wear three pairs of socks instead of just two!”

I remember exactly where this nest was, in the wet area of LT2, and it took a couple of days for the rest of the crew to find it -- I had to personally show it to Heather because no one could follow my shitty map. Heather called it "snag forest".

“So I was watching a Dusky Flycatcher build a nest the other day and all of a sudden I hear this rumble and the ground starts shaking. Yup…my first earthquake. Apparently it was a 4.8 with the center actually being very close to Truckee. It was a really weird feeling. Now when I’m in the meadows and I hear a tiny rumble (from logging) I stop what I’m doing and wait for the earth to move. I can’t imagine what a bigger quake would be like.”

I remember Roy telling us that just prior to the quake that a chipmunk or squirrel had run up his leg. And Heather called on the radio, "Did anyone else just feel the ground move?!" We were tempted to tell her no. Actually one person thought they were just dizzy/hungry and had imagined it.

“We split into pairs to work in South Lake on Monday and Tuesday. We had no idea where any of the meadows were and no one to show us so all we had were some directions and shitty aerial maps--and we had a few different sites in one day. I have never done so many U turns in my life. Aside from trying to find the correct meadows, things went pretty well on Monday. Tuesday we had to do water transects at this place called Tallac which was a complete mess. Thick, huge willows, lots of fallen logs, trees, barbed wire fences, a huge beaver damn, and tons of streams that were too deep for our waders…it was crazy. We had to walk over the beaver damns and jump across the creeks without falling in. At one point I had one foot on solid ground on the bank and the other was a foot deep in muck and 1 foot of water on top of that. My co-worker had to pull me out using the mirror pole. I was quite worried I’d fall in and destroy the GPS unit in my pocket. I think everyone on the crew, except me, has ended up in water over their hip boots or chest waders at least once…so I’m waiting for my turn.”

I filled my waders later that year--actually ended up in water up to my chest and didn't touch the ground. It was near Salmon Creek/Sardine Lake (left picture). And just this year, in year 4, I jumped across a stream in Tallac and ended up covered in mud. Some things never change.

“We have the worst luck when we go down to South Lake to work. When we went down last time I was putting on my waders at a meadow and I realized that I had one of my boots and another one that was way too big. My roommate Angie had somehow managed to mix up my waders with John’s but no one noticed until we all split ways. So I had to wear a size 7 boot on one foot and a size 11 (with holes that leaked) on the other, to survey the meadow. Let me tell you, it is hard to hop across rivers and walk on logs with one boot too big. My co-worker Angela thought it was hilarious when I tried to jump across the river and pretty much fell over tripping over my giant boot. So…I now have the new walkie talkie nickname of Big Foot. I think I’d rather have Sunshine (nickname from college). Somehow poor John managed to squeeze his foot into my other size 7 boot.”

John never told us his story about wearing my boot. Apparently it was simply too traumatizing for him. I really did have bad luck in South Lake. One day Justan and I followed te wrong red truck for an hour. I guess I never wrote about that...

The beginning of an addiction

I often find myself wondering, how did I get here? I think about it way too much I'm sure, but sometimes you can't help but let "what ifs" creep into your mind. What if I had never taken such and such job? What if I had never met such and such?

While it is a total waste of time because NOW is all that we have and it is what it is, I feel compelled to write my story of how I got here. And, afterall, this blog should be about flycatchers in some way, not just about kittens, cowboys, and broken fingers. The flycatchers are where it all began, in a sense. Of course, this story can't all be told in one sitting. So here is the first chapter...

In December of 2004, at the end of my first semester as a senior Wildlife Conservation major at the University of Delaware, I was searching for a summer job. As a sophomore I had taken my first serious look at ornithology—and I was hooked. I worked with Wood Thrushes for two seasons, and although I wanted to study a variety of species, birds were familiar and what I knew. My best friend and roommate noticed a job post for Willow Flycatcher work in the Sierra Nevadas. I’m pretty sure I had no clue what a Willow Flycatcher was, and I certainly had no idea what the Sierras would be like. I was also terrified to leave the comfort of home in Newark, Delaware. But I wanted that job. And I had always wanted to travel “out west” (that’s for you Jill). So I applied, and I talked to my future boss, Heather, for the first time in my interview. She offered me a position on the spot, I made her wait a few days while I decided (even though it was the only job I applied for), and then I accepted.

The first time I met Heather in person was at the airport and I swear I’ll never forget the day. I had a huge, HUGE, bag to carry, my computer, and probably another backpack of some sort. She recognized me, she claimed, by the nalgene bottles on my pack. (She probably also saw my driver’s license, but that detail escapes me). A Texan, Heather took me to her a giant Chevy Silverado in the parking garage of the Reno/Tahoe airport. When she wasn’t paying attention, I heaved my huge bag up into the back of her truck, nearly killing myself, but I didn’t want her to think, uh, know, I was a wimp and could barely lift it. She had a straw cowboy hat on the dash of the truck. She was likely wearing blue.

She claims she talked the whole damn way “home” from Reno to our field housing in Truckee. This is probably likely, as I was still a shy loser at this point and she was the outgoing Texan who didn’t really know when to shut up (she still doesn’t). I remember her telling me about some of the fires that damaged the trees along the way. I remember her asking my permission to smoke a cigarette in her own truck (which, thank God, was a habit she kicked only a few months later with little effort). I also remember being completely overwhelmed by the entire situation—it felt like I was on another planet.

What happened once we reached the field housing at Hill Top, I honestly can’t remember—it was all a blur. I don’t specifically remember meeting any other people with much detail, of course I’d never forget any of them as I still keep in touch with most of them and hope to for years to come. But, I don’t think I’ll ever forget meeting Heather – I guess because of her charisma. She used to tell me she remembered meeting me for the first time in detail too, but no one else, which I thought was funny, but I must confess, I wonder now if it was true or not.

I was shy, but joked around with her in my usual sarcastic (obnoxious at times, I’m sure) way, calling her “evil boss lady” because she was the opposite. She knew how to make someone feel good about themselves—and I thought she was great at letting us all know our work was greatly appreciated. She was also just “one of the gang”, and knew how to have fun with the crew. She took us out for pizza right away to break the ice. She bought rounds of beer when we watched the Astros win together (this actually happened often that year, as I believe they went to the World Series but lost). Although others might see this as a weakness in a leader who is supposed to act professional, I thought it was her strength, it helped us bond as a crew, and we wanted to work hard for the boss lady. I did at least. I remember her taking us all out for omelets and mimosas at the Squeeze on a “snow day”. She was so bummed out about the birds being frozen and she had a horrible attitude because of it. She was passionate about the work and didn’t want to miss a beat in the field. And, she was damn good at it.

I fell in love with the Sierras that year. If you have ever been to Truckee, you probably know what I’m talking about. There’s just something about a little mountain town—even if it is just a tourist trap—that I just can’t help but love. And those amazing snow-capped mountains looming just behind beautiful lakes with the bluest water I’d ever seen. (Keep in mind, I’m from Delaware) The smell of the pines as you drive up from lower elevations -- windows down, cold mountain air rushing in. I can’t really give it words. Somehow addictive.

The people I met were great. Best damn crew I’ve ever been on (ok, at the time it was really the only damn crew I’d been on, but still). They taught me how to get the job done, and also how to have fun. They taught me how to live life on the edge…just a little bit. They taught me that life wasn’t really as fast paced as I thought it was (I was an east coast snob). A constant party, whether working or playing. We sang songs together, we ate great food together, and we hung out on the dock together.

The work was at times daunting. Lots of camping, and driving around getting lost trying to find meadows. Not really knowing if I was ever in the correct spot. It was wet. And cold. Damn cold. Snow in June. I often took my waders off to warm my frozen feet because they were un-insulated and had holes in them (the waders, not my feet). But I didn’t care. The birds…they say “Fitz bew!” -- how can you not love them? They may not look like much, but those little birds have character! And the meadows were filled with all kinds of other birds and wildlife.

I loved every minute of it, and I decided I wanted to come back for more in 2006 -- before the season had even ended.

Proposal problems

Slap a small radio transmitter on the back of a fledgling bird, let it go, and locate it twice a day. No problem.

Unless you break our finger and can't hold a bird. Unless its hard to attach the transmitter. Unless the transmitter falls off. Unless the bird is found cold and dead in the willow. Unless the transmitter signal just disapears. Unless you force fledge the birds.

Record GPS location and habitat use of fledgling flycatchers.

I've spent at least one hour of my day for the past week laying on a bed of prickly pine cones, bins attached to my eyes, staring 30ft up into a pine tree at 4 fluffy fledgling flycatcher butts. They haven't moved from those trees since they got into them. Don't get me wrong, their butts are adorable. But 2x a day, when they don't move? Who came up with that idea?

I know a proposal is just that, a proposal. It changes constantly. But someone needs to remind me why I spent hours writing down what I was going to do this summer when I knew it wouldn't really work.

You do the math. 10 family groups two times a day, takes 1 hour to resight them if you are lucky, 1 graduate student plus one field assistant, 14 hours of daylight, 10 minutes of driving time between each site...NOPE, doesn't add up correctly. Let's try that one again.

I'd like to talk about priorities now. "A particular order, or sequence, in which things take place (items processed, users served, etc.)." OK, so my goal is to track DUFL 2x a day, but thats not feasible if you have more than 6 family groups, so I was told that the priority would be to track DUFL with transmitters 2x a day. Got it. Much easier. Since they died, fell off, or disapeared I only have 1 bird to trach 2x a day. Thats great data. DUFL fledglings prefer pine over willow because I tracked on bird and thats where it went.

I kept telling myself that it would be fine if the transmitters did not work. Just track the birds without it. No one told me that DUFL fledglings are often silent, unlike their WIFL cousins.

So what is the lesson in all of this? I should have moved to New Zealand instead of starting a masters.