Steelhead in Hells Canyon

Before reaching their spawning redds in the Upper Salmon River basin, some 900 miles from the Pacific Ocean, wild Chinook salmon and steelhead travel up the Snake River past The Nature Conservancy’s Garden Creek Ranch. Last week Nature Conservancy staff members Steve Grourke and Justin Petty led a field trip to explore the Hells Canyon section of the Snake. The group traveled up river by jet boat and learned about the history of and wildlife native to the canyon.

Bighorn sheep (above) became common sightings as they perched high above the river on rocky canyon cliffs. Mule deer grazed in the grassy hills and a golden eagle worked the cottonwood-lined drainage of Deep Creek.

In addition to learning about the history of the canyon, the group fished for hatchery-raised steelhead. Steelhead are rainbow trout that spend their adult lives in the ocean. They spawn and then live as juvenile fish in freshwater for 1 to 4 years, migrate to the ocean for a similar period of time before returning to freshwater. Hatchery fish are identified by a clipped adipose fin. All steelhead with an intact adipose fin are wild and are released immediately when caught.

The fishing started out slow and with the wrong species being netted. A cat fish was quickly returned to the river as were a number of pike minnows. The best opportunity on the first day to land a steelhead was thwarted by a big rock that fouled up a line. Despite not netting the fish the group’s adrenaline ran high as did anticipation for the next day’s fishing.

Day two was productive with the boat landing three hatchery fish, with one measuring out at 30 inches (above). A number of wild steelhead were hooked and returned to the river. The last day started out slow, with only one fish in the first three hours. But as Captain Butch ordered us to reel in our lines to head back to the ranch, Justin hooked a monster. After considerable struggle and a deft move to thwart the fish from going under the boat, Justin landed the biggest fish of the trip – tape measured at 31 ½ inches--the angler and fish in the photo at the start of this blog.--Submitted by Steve Grourke

Wolverine!

Photo by Michael Feiger, District Biologist, Idaho City Ranger District, Boise National Forest.

Most of us will never see a wolverine in the wild. But it's enough just to know that they're out there, roaming the Idaho backcountry.

The above photo was taken by a "camera trap" in the Boise National Forest. While it's known that wolverines inhabit Idaho, very little is known of their home range, genetics or population size. That's partly because they roam over huge ranges, are very difficult to spot and exist at low population densities even in areas where they are common. As the largest land-dwelling member of the weasel family, the wolverine resembles a small bear.

The wolverine is a well-known animal, largely because it has often figured prominently in outdoor adventure stories: attacking North Country trappers and causing mayhem for all who cross its path. In reality, though, the wolverine is secretive and just wants to be left alone. It does best in wild areas with few roads and few people.

This is because the wolverine likes to have room to roam: In one recent instance, a wolverine radio collared in the Tetons near Jackson Hole traveled to Pocatello and back, Pinedale and back to Jackson, to the northern range of Yellowstone and back to the Tetons and then to the famed Centennial Range and the Henry's Lake Mountains where its collar released. It ranged at least 550 miles in 42 days... no bad for a 35 pound animal.

This photo reveals their presence in the Boise National Forest. It visited a "hair snare" designed to lure in fishers--another member of the weasel family that does best in wilderness. The trap collects hairs from the fisher so researchers can determine the genetics and populations of these animals.

A camera is set nearby and takes photos when animals enter the trap area. These "camera traps" are becoming increasingly helpful for wildlife biologists, as they can be set along game trails, at water holes and mineral licks to view rare or wary species. They've been used to help researchers track elusive species like snow leopards and tigers, and even species new to science.

According to Michael Feiger, the U.S. Forest Service biologist conducting the study in the Boise National Forest, the wolverine also left behind hairs in the trap. Those hairs will be examined to determime the genetics of this wolverine to see how it's related to other studied populations of wolverines in Idaho.

Hopefully such research will enable biologists to better determine what habitat needs to be protected so that wolverines can continue to roam Idaho's backcountry.--Matt Miller

Dogs and Goats: Conservation Allies

It's no secret that humans are seriously lacking in our sense of smell, but not so our best friends. Anyone who has seen their dog checking out the backyard knows that the canine scenting capabilities can tell a lot about who--or what--has been in the area.

The dog's nose has been put to good use in locating illegal agriculture products and drugs at the border, finding missing persons and hunting all sorts of creatures. Now a collaborative effort including The Nature Conservancy of Oregon has a dog sniffing out rare plants.
Meet Rogue, a Belgian sheepdog that is finding the endangered Kincaid lupine by smell. This plant is found over rough terrain, so it's difficult for human eyes to locate. The dogs have a remarkable ability to find rare plants in a field of many other species, with very low error rates. The success of this project suggests that dogs may have many other uses for conservationists. Read Rogue's story by Jen Newlin Bell of The Nature Conservancy of Oregon.
Dogs aren't the only domestic animal being put to use for the cause of conservation. The Nature Conservancy of Washington is utilizing goats to munch through a horrible tangle of invasive Himalayan blackberry. The thorns and brambles of this plant crowds out other native plants, but it's no problem for the goats. Their legendary eating ability is based on fact; goats munch even this noxious plant to the ground. Learn more about the goats, and watch a video of them at work. --Matt Miller

Dog photos by Jen Newlin Bell/TNC; goat photo by Jocelyn Ellis/TNC.

Emus in Idaho...

It's quite common to see unusual birds at the Conservancy's Ball Creek Ranch Preserve, located near Bonners Ferry in the Idaho Panhandle. With its restored wetlands, the preserve is heavily used by migrating waterfowl, and a variety of rare birds reported. But, until yesterday, there's never been an emu sighting.

The emu showed up from parts unknown and posed by the preserve sign, before being herded into a temporary shelter by preserve manager Justin Petty. It's waiting there while Justin searches for an owner.

Coincidentally, on Friday, my wife Jennifer was jogging on the Boise River Greenbelt and saw a rather strange looking creature heading her way. It, too, turned out to be an emu--running at full speed her way. She hopped off the trail and the emu continued on its way, evidently enjoying, like so many of us, the jogging opportunities of the Greenbelt.

Emus are native to Australia, where they are quite common over much of the country. The second largest bird in the world, their legs are developed for high-speed running across the Outback plains. They are not uncommon on small farms or as pets, so invariably some escape--which doesn't lessen the surprise of seeing this large, prehistoric looking bird trotting across the Idaho landscape.--Matt Miller

Mayfly Nation

If you want to find the most species of wildlife, go to the tropics, a fact well known among conservation biologists for years. Tropical habitats favor diversity more so than temperate climates.

To give one example: Colombia, where I just spent a month, may not be the largest country on earth, but it leads the world in the number of species of vertebrates, birds, amphibians and butterflies.

One reserve in Peru, Manu National Park in the Amazon Basin, has more bird species than the entire United States.

The United States may be a big country, but it doesn't have the most species. Unless you're talking about mayflies.
The United States has more than 600 species of mayflies, more than any other country.

It's truly mayfly nation: A fact well appreciated by fly fishers, but perhaps less so by other nature lovers. The adult mayfly is a beautiful, delicate insect with a fascinating life history. When a major hatch is occurring (as above), it's one of nature's finest spectacles, even if you don't fish.

Mayflies live as underwater nymphs for a full year, hatching (often en masse) to become winged adults. As they take flight, the mayfly's journey is coming to an end: An adult mayfly only lives from 30 minutes to a day before it breeds, lays eggs and dies.

As such, adult mayflies only have vestigial mouths, and their digestive tracts are filled with air.

Mayfly hatches can reach truly staggering proportions: Along some of the Great Lakes, snow plows clear them off the streets. They can literally blanket the surface of a stream (see Silver Creek intern Ryan Urie's photo below of a brown drake hatch, from an earlier blog post).

I remember once standing along Penns Creek in Central Pennsylvania, listening to an evening hatch of Eastern green drakes: So many were in the air, it sounded like the wings of geese beating overhead.

Silver Creek has some of the finest mayfly hatches in the country, with the brown drake (early June) and trico (July and August) being particularly famous. Those hatches are one of the reasons Silver Creek has so many trout. If you visit now, you should be able to see scattered fall hatches, especially the small olive Baetis.

Mayflies may exist in huge numbers and varieties, but they do have one requirement: Clean water. A polluted stream is quickly cleared of its mayflies. Fortunately, efforts to clean water supplies over the last few decades have meant a resurgence in mayflies in areas where they had disappeared--like the Great Lakes. As long as this commitment to clean water remains, the United States will likely remain as the capital of mayflies. --Matt Miller

Watch Some Bighorns

Anyone traveling near Salmon this fall should stop by the new bighorn sheep viewing station to catch a glimpse of one of Idaho's most treasured animals.

The viewing station is at Redrock Sportsman's Access area north of Salmon. At the site, there is plenty of parking, a rest room and now, an interpretive kiosk where visitors can read about Idaho's bighorn sheep and view the sheep through a viewing scope.

A ribbon cutting ceremony for the viewing station will be at 2 p.m. October 1. The viewing station has been in the works for more than a year. The intent is to help visitors and locals alike appreciate the local population of bighorn sheep, how they live, the challenges that face them, and how people can support wild sheep.

The public is welcome to join the Idaho Chapter of the Foundation for North American Wild Sheep and the Idaho Outfitter and Guides Association, Idaho Department of Fish and Game along with many partners and donors in thanking those who worked on the project and celebrate our wild sheep.

Another bighorn sheep viewing station is in the works for an area near Challis.

In addition, U.S. Highway 93 from North Fork south nearly to Mackay and State Highway 75 from Challis east toward Clayton have unofficially been called "Idaho's Bighorn Highway." Sheep can be viewed from the road in these areas, all year long.

The Importance of Volunteers

Every year, many people come from all over the country to volunteer at Silver Creek. We also host maybe other volunteers throughout Idaho and throughout the world. People who work for free!! And are usually incredibly enthusiastic about it!! These volunteers fix fences, great visitors, clear trails, spray weeds, and the list goes on. I often wonder what I would do without the amazing lineup of volunteers I have at Silver Creek. This year alone we have already logged over 1000 hours of volunteer time. These people come for the love of the place and the love of our work, and it shows.

Many of you have probably been lucky enough to meet some of our volunteers this summer. Frank Hayes (above) has been volunteering for the past four weeks at the Silver Creek Preserve visitor center. In previous years, he spent time at the Flat Ranch Preserve and also puts in time and money for the upkeep of the Hayspur hatchery (across the highway from Silver Creek Preserve, Idaho Fish and Game). He spends his mornings at the visitor center and the afternoons fishing. Jerry and Cheryl Jeffery have been coming one month every summer for the past three years. They are from southern California and look forward to the peacefulness of Silver Creek. Jerry fishes and talks fishing most of the time and Cheryl cleans, cooks, and makes the Preserve look great. These are just three of the great volunteers we have throughout the season. Come down and say hi or call to volunteer yourself! 788-7910

The Intern Experience at Silver Creek

Another Labor day has come and gone and at Silver Creek that usually means the end of an intern season. Every year I try and find interns who are enthusiastic, who are pursuing a career in conservation, and who are not afriad to work hard. I would like to think the interns will someday come to work at TNC on a more permanent basis. Usually the interns have more or less the same goals as I do, with the added goal of having a good time (otherwise known as catching fish). One of the interns, Ryan Urie, wrote the following about coming to Silver Creek as a novice fisherman and what a learning experience that was:

Prior to coming to Silver Creek I always thought fishing meant placing a hook, marshmallow, and a small handful of lead on the end of a line, hurling it into a hatchery-stocked pond, then sitting back and waiting while sipping on a beer. My knowledge of fly fishing was limited to a single viewing of “A River Runs Through It,” and while I assumed it was more of a skill than bait fishing, I had no idea of the challenges Silver Creek had in store. I had heard that Silver Creek contains some four thousand brown and rainbow trout per mile and many over twenty inches in length; what I didn’t hear is that they are some of the most selective and difficult trout on the planet.

I went to the nearest sports shop and found a $50 rod and reel combo with line, leader, and a carrying case (it was only after several unsuccessful fishing attempts that I came to learn about things called “backing” and “tippet”). I picked up a variety pack of “Rocky Mountain Flies” with no indication of what, if anything, they were meant to imitate and set off. Without knowing even the basics of fly fishing, I aimed to fish what I now know is commonly referred to as the graduate school of fly fishing.

The qualities that make fishing Silver Creek so difficult are at the same time indicators of its success as a nature preserve. The crystal clear water makes fishermen and flies easily distinguishable to the fish; heavy catch-and-release fishing by the public has created a wary, intelligent fish population; and the year-round supply of riparian habitat and resulting insect supply has made the fish into well fed, picky eaters who can afford to ignore a fly that looks even the least bit suspicious.

These difficult conditions weed out any lazy or haphazard fishermen and force one to engage deeply with the landscape. Success at Silver Creek demands attention to stream conditions, weather patterns, local vegetation, insect hatches, season, and climate. A commitment is required, and fishing here is an exercise in frustration for those concerned only with catching fish.

In addition to all the challenges faced by competent fishermen, I had to further contend with constant snags, infuriating knots, and a general lack of interest on the part of the fish. I also managed to hook myself on several occasions (once through the lip, ironically), and sometimes would launch what I considered to be a perfect cast, only to watch the top half of my rod sail through the air and follow the fly into the water.

Several successive nights with no strikes gave me ample opportunity to appreciate the serenity and beauty of the creek. In addition to lush vegetation, dramatic sunsets, and calming waters, there is an abundance of wildlife at Silver Creek including moose, elk, beaver, muskrats, and badgers. The birdlife is especially prolific with over two hundred different species throughout the year including great blue herons, sand hill cranes, red-winged blackbirds, yellow warblers, northern harriers, and red-tailed hawks to name a few (in one morning of birding with a local expert I was able to take my life list from zero to sixty in under a day!). Often the aggravation of yet another lost fly or impossible tangle all but vanished with the joyful appearance of a baby duck, or a mouse poking its head from the nearby sedges.

By the fourth night of the brown drake hatch I was about ready to give up. Brown drakes are a variety of mayfly on Silver Creek which emerge, mate, lay eggs, and die all within a few days, and this hatch is one of the most eagerly awaited annual events in the Picabo area (at least for fishermen). In mid-June the drakes rise in a flurry of activity which is utterly breathtaking – akin to being in the midst of a tornado comprised of bugs. As they mate and die they form a constant stream of bodies in the creek. During this veritable buffet the trout let go their usual caution and join in a feeding frenzy which local fishermen capitalize on in what can rightly be called Fly Fishermen’s Christmas.

It was toward the end of this spectacle that I finally landed my first fish – a 21” brown trout (PHOTO) – using a size 14 brown drake spinner on a 4X line. As I held this miracle in my hands I felt connected to life and the flow of the universe in a way that had previously eluded me. It helped me to realize that my passion for conservation isn’t about protecting nature for its own sake or for human enjoyment either, but is rather about these moments of reconnecting – getting out of our egocentric bubbles and being a part of the greater story.

While I did finally learn to catch fish, the real education I received at Silver Creek wasn’t about fishing: it was about patience and perseverance. By pressing through the constant frustration and discouragement I was able to achieve something lasting and worthwhile. I learned about finding the joy in what the world offers instead of narrowly insisting upon my own ambitions, and to engage and flow with my environment. I learned to pay attention, and be still. Ultimately I found a deep sense of peace and wonder, and it is for that reason that I’ll keep coming back.

'Nature' fire at Silver Creek Preserve and beyond

On Wednesday the 27th, about 3:30 in the afternoon, I received a call from one of the neighbors alerting me to a fire on the Preserve. I was in the Hailey office so I quickly called Frank, our trusty volunteer (who lives at Kilpatrick cabin, feet from the burn area). As I was asking him about the fire, the sheriff knocked on his door and told him he might want to leave. He called me back shortly after from the visitor center and gave me a brief update. It appears the fire started from the houses above the visitor center on an adjacent landowner’s property. There are rumors that it may have been a power connection and eye witnessed say it started with a single flame behind a shed. It quickly spread up the hillside and along the road, jumped over onto the Preserve, and then worked its way through the Picabo Hills to the south of Silver Creek and along the Purdy property to the east of the Preserve. As of today, it has burned over 14,000 acres and BLM firefighters hope to have it contained by this evening.

We are lucky that as of today, no major structures have been destroyed and no one has been hurt. We are also so lucky to have such a great crew of skilled firefighters on the job. The thing I feel most fortunate for, however, is the amazing group of neighbors and friends we have down here. I received countless calls from people offering my family a place to sleep and help if we needed it. Since the fire has moved past the immediate area and the damage to the Preserve is apparent, I have already been receiving calls inquiring about volunteer work from people wanting to help with the restoration.

In the next few weeks with the great crew of scientist in the Idaho chapter of The Nature Conservancy, I will be working on putting together a restoration plan for the burned areas. I look forward to seeing how the land repairs itself and welcome any thoughts, suggestions, or man hours!!

Dayna

Hemingway Festival

Next to his writing, Ernest Hemingway is perhaps best known for his connection to place: Key West, Cuba, Pamplona, the green hills of Africa. To that list, one could add Ketchum and southcentral Idaho. As soon as Ernest saw Silver Creek, he knew he had to return there with his sons. One of those sons, Jack, would later be the one to contact The Nature Conservancy to purchase the property--leading to Silver Creek Preserve and the preservation of much of the creek's valley through conservation easements.

The Ernest Hemingway Festival in Sun Valley celebrates his connection to this place. This year, the event will be held from September 25-28. You can register now.

Noted Hemingway authors and scholars including Hilary Hemingway, Jeffrey P. Lindsay, Marty Peterson, Sandra Spanier, Susan Beegle, Stacey Guill and Brandon R. Schrand will speak at the event.

There will also be a special dinner to help fund the maintenance and historical archive of the Hemingway House in Ketchum, owned by the Conservancy.

Plantings Benefit Sage Grouse and Waterfowl

In 2001, The Nature Conservancy acquired 2600 private acres that became the Crooked Creek Preserve, located near Dubois. This acquisition was made possible through an individual donation to the Conservancy and included more than 67,000 acres of federal and state grazing allotments.

The ranch has a high sage grouse population and one of the goals of the project is to demonstrate effective habitat management for sage grouse and other wildlife.

The Conservancy and the North American Grouse Partnership (NAGP) jointly applied for cost-share grants to improve stream side and wetland habitat along Crooked Creek. These grants came from the Natural Resources Conservation Service, the Governor’s Office of Species Conservation, and the Idaho Department of Fish and Game’s Habitat Improvement Program. With the help of these grants, we expanded a small irrigation pond into a multi-purpose reservoir that provides both irrigation water and wetlands for wildlife.

This summer the Conservancy’s Alan Sands contacted Intermountain Aquatics, a habitat restoration company, about improving riparian and wetland vegetation on Crooked Creek. In July, work began to plant a diverse mix of woody vegetation along 1000 feet of Crooked Creek. Several species of willow, Wood’s rose, chokecherry, black hawthorn, and golden currant were planted along the creek. Bull rush, willows, and other wetland plants were planted on the waterfowl nesting island in the reservoir.

The plants were in 1, 2.5, and 5 gallon containers depending on the species that came from two different greenhouses. The species were selected based on research into species located along the same creek further upstream from the planting site. The plants were planted in clumps or spaced out according to the natural growth of the species in order to make the restoration site look as natural as possible in the future.

This is just the first step and we hope to be able to expand this work in the future. --Dava McCann, East Idaho land steward and Alan Sands, ecologist

Sturgeon

Photo by Keith Lazelle.

They're fish that swam with dinosaurs: The sturgeons, a 250-million-year-old fish family that has demonstrated a remarkable knack for survival. At least until now.

Various sturgeon species are found widely in rivers and lakes across Eurasia and North America. At one time, they were a common Idaho species, being found in the Snake, Salmon and other river systems.

Idaho sturgeon reached legendary size: up to 10 feet long and 350 pounds. Truly, dinosaurs swam our waters.
The Kootenai River population of sturgeon has been isolated due to waterfalls to northern Idaho, Montana and British Columbia since the last Ice Age. Like most sturgeon species, they survived millions of years of changes, but they may not be able to survive their latest obstacle: humanity.

The sturgeon's life history includes a list of factors that now endanger it: Sturgeons need clear, cold water, and lots of it--they move up and down rivers throughout their lives. They need wetland areas to spawn in addition to rivers. Females require about 30 years to mature and breed. And, of course, caviar is a delicacy--commanding extraordinarily high prices.

For the white sturgeon, the upstream Libby Dam and resulting changes in the Kootenai River (including loss of wetlands and river meanders) has put the Kootenai population in peril. Less than 700 adults remain. And the population is aging; very few young fish are found in the river.

Fortunately, all is not bleak for the Kootenai's white sturgeon. Restoring wetlands and tributary streams in the Kootenai Valley mean cleaner water and better habitat. The Nature Conservancy has restored more than 400 acres of wetlands on its Ball Creek Ranch Preserve, and other organizations and agencies have similarly restored other wetlands throughout the valley.

Can these make a difference? It's hard to say, but last year kokanee salmon--another species that needs clear, cold water and tributary streams--returned to spawn in Ball Creek after being absent for more than four decades.

The Kootenai Tribe is also playing an important role, by rearing sturgeon in a hatchery and releasing juveniles in the river. With this imperiled population, clearly supplementing the wild fish will remain an important aspect of sturgeon conservation.

It will take time, but there's hope that these efforts will help restore these giant and ancient fish to our rivers--Matt Miller

Don't Move Firewood

It's the height of the camping season in Idaho, and for many of us, one of the joys of being in Idaho's forests is the evening campfire. Who doesn't love roasted marshmallows as the evening chill sets in?

Chances are, if you camp, you're aware that campfires can cause wildfires. You know to make sure your fire is out, and to check for any fire closures in national forests.

But you may not know of another threat posed by your campfire: non-native insect pests and diseases that devastate our forests.

When you pack firewood from home, you may unkowingly be packing along some of these pests. An insect larva on a chip of wood could be all it takes to literally destroy the forest. The costs of controlling pests in eastern forests like the gypsy moth and the hemlock adelphid cost millions of dollars--and still the pests destroy more acres of forests each year.

Prevention is the key. And there is a simple way you can help:

Don't move firewood.

The Don't Move Firewood campaign, co-sponsored by The Nature Conservancy, asks campers and wood burners to take three simple steps:

1. Don't move firewood.
2. Talk to your local boy and girl scout troops--avid campfire builders--about the dangers posed by moving firewood.
3. Ask the seller if the firewood you are buying is from local trees.

The Dont' Move Firewood web site has many useful tips on how you can protect your local forests, and ensure the special places you camp will remain special for future generations. So, enjoy your campfire this summer, but leave the wood at home.

Summer Willow Planting at Flat Ranch

In April, Idaho Nature Notes reported on winter willow clippings to help restore these plants along The Nature Conservancy’s Flat Ranch Preserve. The willows are cut in the winter while they are dormant, to be grown at a nursery and replanted this summer.

Dava McCann, the Conservancy’s East Idaho field steward, provides an update on that project:

To complete the restoration project The Nature Conservancy started last year on the Flat Ranch Preserve, we needed to plant the willows that Chet Work clipped in the spring. Two-hundred of the willow clippings have been delivered to Upper Valley Natives to be grown in five-gallon containers. These willows will be planted after reaching 5 feet in height. However, 300 willow clippings were placed in a freezer to remain dormant until they could be planted. On June 19, these willows were planted in a collaborative effort between employees of The Nature Conservancy and the Henry’s Fork Foundation.

Since the outlet has been removed from the channel for many years, the banks are highly susceptible to erosion. When the Henry’s Fork makes a natural bend, the bank on the outside of that bend gets eroded by the forces of water. These outside backs are thus in need of deep rooted woody vegetation to hold the soil of the bank in place. Our group of 6 people identified on maps the portions of the bank that would need to be protected and then located the exact stretches of the bank once on the ground.
The clippings were on average 6 feet long. We dug holes in the ground using a 6 foot long metal rod with a slightly larger diameter than the clippings. The holes were dug to depths at or below the water table. Clippings without roots will develop root systems if the basal end of the clipping is left in water. The willow clippings were then placed in the hole and the soil was closed back around the clipping. Spacing was left for the 200 five-gallon willows that will be planted at a later date. Although the success rate of the clippings is lower than the success rate of the five-gallon willows, we hope that the cuttings will begin to stabilize the banks of the channel before the greenhouse grown willows are ready to plant.

Thanks to the staff that made this project possible: Dava McCann, East Idaho land steward; Neal Kaufman, Flat Ranch education coordinator; Brett Tatman, Flat Ranch intern; Anne Marie Miller, Henry's Fork Foundation conservation technician; Catie Carr, HFF intern; Bryan Jones, HFF intern

Mass of Mayflies

The brown drake hatch may have been a little late this year, but lucky anglers still experienced quite a show. Silver Creek intern Ryan Urie took this photo of an incredibly large mass of brown drake mayflies in the water. You can click on the photo for a closer look.

Studies on the Black Canyon of the Gunnison have shown that trout there can get as much as 75 percent of the annual caloric intake during the two-week salmon fly (a stonefly species) hatch. I wonder how important the brown drakes are to trout on lower Silver Creek.

Of course, Silver Creek has tremendous hatches throughout the year. The brown drakes may be long gone, but the tricos are here. Of course, the tricos are much tinier, and more difficult to fish. But spring creek mayfly hatches are one of nature's great spectacles, even if you don't fish. The sheer numbers of these beautiful insects is unbelievable, sometimes covering the surface of the water as this photo shows. You can take a closer look at Silver Creek--including birding walks, a canoe tour, a scavenger hunt and a barbecue--this Saturday, July 26, from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. Email the Silver Creek Office to register. --Matt Miller

Salmon's Wild Ride

What happens when a salmon swims into an irrigation diversion?

Nothing good. By the time the fish figures out it made a wrong turn in the stream, there’s not enough water to turn back, and it’s trapped—meaning certain death.

At least that’s how it used to be.

The contraption pictured above is installed on small streams to protect chinook salmon (and other fish) that swim down small stream diversions. Conservationists in the Salmon River Valleys recognize that small streams are vitally important to the remaining salmon and steelhead, but these streams are often overlooked as salmon habitat.

These little streams may not look like much at first glance, but salmon are not only a fish of large waters. After their long migration from the sea, it seems a shame for fish to be lost on the final part of their journey. Fish spawn in remarkably small streams connected to rivers like the Lemhi and Pahsimeroi:

These streams are also used by spawning steelhead, and contain populations of bull trout, cutthroats and resident rainbows—provided there is enough water. As fish migrate, they sometimes go into diversion channels, which, after all, look just like a regular stream channel:

A fish excluding device saves these fish. The water wheel concept is designed to divert the fish back to their stream, while ensuring adequate water still flows for irrigation.

Here’s how it works. Larger fish find an impasable metal barrier, so they turn around and swim back to the stream. But smaller fish can still pass—a fine mesh would accumulate so much debris in a day that the device would become a dam, negating its value as a diversion.

Smaller fish thus enter the pictured device and face a fine mesh barrier tube—rotated by the water wheel so that debris does not accumulate on the mesh.

Fish that make it to the mesh could be trapped, so a PVC pipe goes the opposite direction, returning some water to the stream. (Most of the water is run through the water wheel to the irrigation canal). The fish shoot down the tube and are deposited back in their natural habitat—subject to what must be a particularly wild ride, but far better off than the alternative.

The Nature Conservancy and partners consider it one of the highest conservation priorities to protect the salmon that are left. This includes a wide range of activities, including restoring habitat along spawning streams, ensuring adequate flows in rivers and devices like this one that protect both fish and agricultural practices.—Matt Miller

Photos by Jim Foster.

Whitefish

Over the July 4th weekend, I spent one leisurely afternoon casting small spinners on the Boise River just across the road from my home. After a couple of hours of fruitless fishing, a fish aggressively hit my lure.

I could tell it was a decent-sized fish, but even on my light spinning rod, I quickly reeled it in: a 15-inch mountain whitefish.

According to too many fishing books, my reaction should have been disgust. Whitefish are often regarded as a nuisance, a pest when fishing for more desirable species, or even a “trash fish.”

Which is unfortunate. Much of this contempt can be summed up by the title of E. Donnall Thomas Jr.’s fly fishing book, Whitefish Can’t Jump. While Thomas’ well-written book is actually about appreciating the diversity of fish found in North America, many other anglers view the whitefish’s tendencies not to jump or fight hard as major character flaws.

They also forage for food they disturb from the bottom, and many people have an innate dislike of "bottom feeders."

But the whitefish requires clean, cold waters and it’s a true native to our rivers. Stories of anglers catching 25- whitefish a day remain common on some rivers, but they obscure another fact: Whitefish are declining and even disappearing on many waterways.

Whitefish are native to Silver Creek, but recent fish surveys have found them to be almost, if not entirely, absent from large portions of the stream. Certainly the waters are still cold and clear, so what could be the problem? Conventional wisdom suggests the non-native brown trout, which grow huge in the creek, and become fish eaters as they grow. But more research is needed to be sure. Why can whitefish survive and even thrive in some rivers with brown trout, like the Boise, while they have largely disappeared from others? This remains as an important question for fisheries biologists to answer.

Fortunately, many anglers and outdoor enthusiasts now recognize that a river is best appreciated with its full range of native species, and that fish should be viewed on their own merits, not just their sporting qualities.

The Boise River has a thriving whitefish population, so I took mine home and grilled it in a foil pack with butter and organic onions raised on a Boise farm--a true local dinner. The whitefish, as you might expect, has a white, mild-tasting meat, and goes well with local vegetables on a warm summer evening. I appreciate the fact that in my home river I can still catch and eat native fish—an activity becoming an unimaginable luxury in many parts of the world, as rivers are increasingly polluted, diverted or overtaken by non-native species.

Long may Idaho’s rivers run cold and clear—with mountain whitefish and other native fish feeding in their depths. –Matt Miller

Living Museum Pieces

No, you won't find the animal pictured above roaming around the wilds of Idaho.

In fact, you won't find it roaming in the wild anywhere.

The Pere David's deer has been extinct in the wild for more than 1oo years. Native to China, the deer is believed to have once roamed sub-tropical marshlands in large herds. When French missionary Father Armand David visited China in the 1860's, only one herd was known to be in existence--on a game reserve owned by the emperor.

As is often the case with small numbers of animals on a small preserve, this isolated population of deer was vulnerable. They were all killed off by troops during the Boxer Rebellion.

However, some Westerners had illegally smuggled out a few individuals of Pere David's deer to stock British deer parks. At the time of its extinction in the wild, about 18 of the species remained at the Woburn Abbey deer park.

The Pere David's deer probably won't go extinct now. It does best in fenced reserves that offer marshy habitat. I took this photo on a Texas game ranch, where herds of Pere David's deer thrive. They can roam over fairly large areas, a fate certainly better than extinction.

But it's unlikely we'll ever see this species as a free-roaming population. A few have been reintroduced to a Chinese reserve, but the deer remains an animal of fenced, highly managed preserves. In essence, it's a living museum piece.

We can only guess what it was like to see Pere David's deer grazing in its native marshland habitat. We don't know how it dealt with predators, or how many lived in a herd.

Large mammals often fare the worst from the many threats posed by humanity--habitat fragmentation, poaching, deforestation, climate change. In the next century, many of our most iconic animals could join the Pere David's deer as living museum pieces--the black rhino, the mountain gorilla, the tiger, the panda, the polar bear.

But there's still time. Reintroduction programs offer hope for some species, like black-footed ferrets, but it's more cost-effective to save habitat now.

In the Northern Rockies, all the wildlife species that were here when Lewis and Clark explored this area are still here. You can still see herds of elk and mule deer, racing pronghorns, grizzly bears--one of the great concentrations of large mammals left on the planet.

As the West grows, we can create a future that includes these animals as part of the land, and part of our lives. But that will require conserving large landscapes. That's why projects like the Montana Legacy Project, of which The Nature Conservancy is a partner, are so vitally important. This project just announced the protection of 320,000 acres of forestlands in Montana, protecting some of the most important habitat in the "Crown of the Continent" ecosytem.

With projects like these elk and grizzly bears will remain a real part of our heritage, not objects in a museum. --Matt Miller

Wonderful Wood Ducks

It's not difficult to find baby waterfowl at this time of year: Check out any pond, river, nature preserve or city pond, and you're likely to see large numbers of Canada geese and their young, or mallard ducklings eagerly following their mama.

Look a little more closely along wetland areas, and you are likely to find other species as well. If you're along a wooded stream, you may be rewarded with a sight of a hen wood duck and her young. If the ducklings seem a bit disoriented, consider that, just yesterday, they may have been eggs high up in a tree. Soon after they are born in tree cavities (or nest boxes), baby wood ducks climb out and "parachute" to the ground, then follow the hen to water.

Wood ducks can be found anywhere where trees grow near streams, rivers or wetlands. They are quite common even in downtown Boise during the summer. But when you see a wood duck, consider yourself lucky. After all, in the late 19th century, many prominent ornithologists believed the wood duck would soon go extinct.

Over-hunting and loss of habitat--particularly old, dead trees in which to nest--seemed insurmountable problems at the time. Visionary conservationists like Theodore Roosevelt helped pass tougher wildlife laws, which nearly eliminated the commercial trade in waterfowl and other game. Wildlife can nearly always recover from overharvesting, given adequate enforcement of existing laws.

Habitat is more difficult to restore. Fortunately, everyday citizens across the country came to the wood duck's aid by building nest boxes in likely areas. Duck hunters, birders, youth groups and others built thousands of nest boxes. My brother Mike and I built waterfowl boxes for our Eagle Scout projects, and many other kids will get their first taste of hands-on conservation by building these boxes.

Of course, many wildlife species need more than nesting boxes to survive. That's why The Nature Conservancy's work to protect the most important habitat around the world plays such a vital role in preserving the nesting, feeding, breeding, young-rearing and migration areas that wildlife need to survive.--Matt Miller

Adaptive Sports at Silver Creek

This past Monday some three dozen children with Sun Valley Adaptive Sports were given the chance to enjoy a canoe trip and nature walk at the Silver Creek Nature Preserve in Picabo, Idaho. Sun Valley Adaptive Sports is a program that gives people with disabilities the opportunity to experience a wide variety of sports and activities that help them to develop self-confidence and social skills while having fun.

After enjoying the abundant wildflowers and colorful songbirds on the trails surrounding the Visitors’ Center, the children set afloat at Stocker Creek (see photo) for a leisurely ninety minute drift through the lush habitat of Silver Creek. Despite the interruption of a nine-canoe flotilla, the fly fishermen waved and smiled at the children, and everyone was able to simply enjoy the sunny weather and the striking beauty of the area.

While there were a few tipped canoes, some drenched volunteers, and one slightly wet cell phone, it was a fun and fulfilling day for all. Experiences such as these are vital for developing a connection to nature in the next generation, that they too might be committed to its preservation. Of course, they can be good for this generation too - there’s nothing like seeing a child light up at the sight of a yellow warbler flashing past to remind me why this is the work I choose to do.--- Ryan Urie, Silver Creek Preserve Intern

Field of Flax

Controlling weeds can feel like an uphill battle (quite literally, in steep places like Hells Canyon). After they've been eliminated, all too often they reappear in the same places the next year. That's why restoring native plants is such an important component of The Nature Conservancy's work.

The field above, situated behind the preserve office at Silver Creek, was covered in weeds several years ago--offering very little for wildlife and threatening to spread to other areas of the preserve.

Working with partners, the Conservancy tilled the area and replanted it with flax and native plants. The flax fixes the soil by adding nitrogen, important because non-native weeds often leave the soil depleted. The flax blooms early and takes over; it's the blue flowers in the picture you can see above. It is also used by a number of bird and beneficial insect species.

Although you can't see it in the field of blue, below the flax are many native grasses. As they grow, they eventually will become the dominant plant. The flax is just buying those plants time, and creating better soil conditions.

Restoration takes time, but it is easier to restore a small area like the field above than try to restore thousands or millions of acres. The field of blue flowers signals that this area will soon welcome the return of native grasses. --Matt Miller

Spring Creek Summit held at Silver Creek

Spring Creek Summit

On May 29th and 30th, the Nature Conservancy hosted a diverse and amazing group of scientists, academics, consultants, and agency folks at Silver Creek for a Spring Creek Summit.

Despite the unique nature of spring creek ecosystems surprisingly little published research is available to guide land managers, the scientific community and the private sector in their management and restoration. Using the Silver Creek watershed as a catalyst, The Nature Conservancy hoped to advance a common understanding of spring creek ecology, hydrogeomorphology, and fisheries to help guide long-term management decisions and elevate the "state-of-the-knowledge" in the Intermountain West. To initiate this process, TNC convened a group of regional scientists, TNC land managers, and private sector consultants in a managed forum, the Spring Creek Summit 2008.

Many pressing issues were discussed with the goal in mind of working towards developing a spring creek habitat assessment tool, restoration guidelines, and monitoring protocols that can provide guidance for landowners and partners engaging in habitat enhancement projects in spring creek aquatic systems. Specifically for Silver Creek, these tools will assist TNC and partners in creating a common vision and understanding for this important watershed.

A summary of the event will be available soon at savesilvercreek.org.

Thank you to all the participants:
Briana Corry-Schults (MSU student), Christopher Cuhaciyan (UI), Chris Hoag (USDA), Doug Megargle (IDFG), Johnnie Moore (UM), Mark Hill (Ecosystem Sciences), Scott Gillilan (Gillilan Associates), Shannon Campbell (Ecosystem Sciences), Dayna Gross (TNC), Scott Stanton (DEQ), Michael McINtyre (DEQ), Terry Blau (IDWR), Terry Maret (USGS), Trish Klahr (TNC), Trent Stumph (Sawtooth Environmental), Will Miller (Will Miller Consulting), Jock Conyngham (USACE).

Waiting for Brown Drake

Photo by Kirk Keogh, first2lastlight.

In Samuel Beckett's absurdist play, Waiting for Godot, two characters spend an awful lot of time, well, waiting for Godot. Exactly who or what Godot is never quite becomes clear, but the pair forsake all else to keep on waiting. In the end, of course, Godot never shows.

A trip to fish the brown drake hatch on Silver Creek sometimes feels that way. You get on the water early, sure that tonight will be the night. You watch, and you wait. And wait.

The water is a smooth, glassy surface--not a good thing for a Silver Creek trout angler. You have come for feeding fish constantly smacking the surface. Serenity means the brown drakes are not ready to hatch yet.

At some point, you suspect it's not going to happen this evening. Night falls, and you're still waiting for brown drake.

If you're lucky, the brown drake hatch is one of fly fishing's most dramatic experiences. Thousands and thousands of these large mayflies hover over the water. Wherever there's such an abundance of life, there's sure to be predators feeding. In this case, it's brown and rainbow trout. The fish gorge during the hatch, and they actually lose some of their usual wariness.

The hatch only occurs on the lower portions of the watershed, downstream of The Nature Conservancy's preserve. The brown drake hatch only occurs for a short window of time in late May or early June, and it's somewhat unpredictable.

If you miss the hatch, though, it's still not quite like waiting for Godot. Silver Creek at this time of year is still beautiful, and it's perhaps the best time to see lots of wildlife. This past weekend, friends and I spent a lot of time waiting for brown drakes to hatch, but the rewards were many: A bull moose, a mule deer and a herd of elk, all in the same meadow. Displaying yellow-headed blackbirds and their raucous calls. Hillsides aglow with lupines and arrowleaf balsamroot. Cinammon teal and sandhill cranes and long-billed curlews. Beavers and muskrats. Blankets of stars in the clear night sky. --Matt Miller

Curlew Grassland Tour

Idahoans love their national forest, but most don't know we also have a national grassland: the Curlew National Grassland located in southeast Idaho. The 47,000 acres of public land are open to hiking, birding, hunting and photography.

To visit and learn more about this area, join the Curlew Grassland tour on June 13 at 9 a.m. Visit interesting sites and discuss grazing, burns and wildlife on the grassland.

Lunch speakers include Ken Sanders from the University of Idaho, Ken Timothy from the US Forest Service and Howard Horton from Agricultural Research Service.

Attendees will meat at 9 a.m. at the Pavilion on Stone Reservoir, or can take a bus leaving at 8 a.m. from Malad (30 North 100 West).

To attend, please RSVP by calling 208-766-2243 or email oneida@uidaho.edu.

The Curlew Grasslands Tour is sponsored by the University of Idaho, Oneida County Extension, Idaho Rangelands Resource Commission, Curlew Horse and Cattle Association, ARS, Buist Fields, Allied Industries and Idaho Cattle Association.

Bat Cave

For centuries, people responded to bats with superstition, fear and hatred. Upon finding bat caves in North America, many Europeans lined up along the entrance with shotguns--or dynamited them.

Fortunately, today people have grown to appreciate bats and the tons of insects they consume each night--a valuable ecological service. Instead of dynamiting bat caves, people now visit them to enjoy one of the great natural spectacles on earth.

I've seen some interesting bat emergences in Idaho, at the bat boxes of Ball Creek Ranch and in small caves in Hells Canyon. But the world's greatest bat flights are found in the Texas Hill Country.
The caves in the Hill Country contain the highest density of mammals on earth--with some caves containing millions of Brazilian free-tailed bats. The Nature Conservancy has protected important bat habitat here, including at the Eckert James River Bat Cave Preserve. At dusk, the cave is quiet save for cave swallows darting around. But before sunset bats start streaming out.

Frio Cave, where my dad and I recently visited, is home to 10-12 million free-tailed bats, plus a few hundred thousand myotis. Seeing them emerge is an astounding sight; within minutes bats stretch literally to the horizon. (As always, you can click on the photos in this blog to see a larger version). They eventually disperse, devouring insects on farm fields and ranches within 100 miles.

The bats now draw many tourists each summer, each paying fees to private ranches to enjoy the evening bat flight. In fact, many ranches now rely on abundant wildlife to help sustain their operations--through ecotourism, bat tours, birding and hunting. Because farmers recognize the value of bats, their populations are doing well in Texas. But in the eastern United States, thousands of bats are dying--and conservation biologists are trying to discover the cause.

Early settlers reported fires throughout their journey across Texas, but historians now believe the "smoke" they saw were bats emerging from caves. So dense are some swarms of bats that they show up as thunderstorm clouds on radar. At Frio Cave, it takes four hours for all the bats to emerge. It's one of those phenomena that reminds one of the grandeur that still exists in the natural world. --Matt Miller

Deer Candy

It is not uncommon for people to describe sagebrush country as barren, monotonous or empty. And, indeed, sagebrush can look that way when seen from the interstate at 75 miles per hour.

But healthy sagebrush country actually includes a great mix of plants--not just sagebrush. These including lush grasses, stunning wildflowers and other shrubs, including bitterbrush (pictured above). You may notice the subtle gold of a blooming bitterbrush on a springtime hike in the high desert.

If people don't notice bitterbrush much, deer are quite the opposite. They love it: BLM botanist Roger Rosentretter has called it "deer candy."

In the winter, sagebrush makes up the bulk of a deer's diet, which Rosentretter likens to the "meat and potatoes" of a deer's diet. It's highly nutritious and is in many ways a perfect winter forage.

Bitterbrush complements the sagebrush diet, and provides additional nutrients. As with human diets, a diversity of food helps deer stay healthier. Deer also digest food better when eating both sagebrush and bitterbrush.

Sometimes deer love bitterbrush a bit too much. When my wife purchased a bitterbrush plant for our yard, she left the potted plant sitting outside overnight. The next morning, a deer had clipped off the young plant right down to the soil, killing the plant.

Deer will seek out bitterbrush, wherever it is. This can make getting new plants established in xeriscaped yards. In natural areas, the shrubs play an important role in maintaining high desert wildlife populations--Matt Miller