Trippin' with Maren

Over the years, I've driven through Kemmerer, Wyoming, any number of times on my way to or from the Denver area and never stopped, but the last time we traveled that way, the visitors' center at Dinosaur National Monument in Colorado was closed due to land movement─doors askew, long cracks in the walls─so we stopped at the Fossil Butte National Monument visitors' center instead just west of Kemmerer in the Fossil Lake area of the Green River formation.  Sixty million years ago three lakes teemed with fish and plants that, upon dying, sunk to the bottom and were covered with mud in thin layers that over the millennia coalesced into shale and wound up as the top layers of buttes, now mostly owned by the state, which rents sites to entrepreneurs who in turn, for a price, let enthusiasts dig for fossils.  Deb─one such enthusiast─asked Maren if she were interested, and suddenly we had two such enthusiasts.

Maren flew out Tuesday, June 20.  We drove two days to Kemmerer and showed up at Ulrich's Fossil Gallery early one morning, boarded a four-wheel drive SUV, and climbed to the top of a nearby butte.  The shale today retains the thin layers of the ancient annual mud deposits and one hunts fossils by carefully lifting a few layers at a time using hand sledges and flat pry bars, not unlike splitting plywood, to discover what lies between the layers.

With guidance from two of Ulrich's employees, Penny Lint and Mike Snively, in bright sun and an almost cloudless sky we worked at one end of the dig.

As each layer popped free, we found here and there carbonized remains of a herring-like fish, Knightia, and fossilized fish poop; for which we were not told the scientific term (coprolite─if you're interested).

As time was running out and the heat was getting to us, we turned up a four-foot wide layer and there lay:  a 12-inch long Diplomystus.  The prize of the day.

We loaded it and our other finds in the SUV and drove the perilous track back to the gallery where Mike trimmed the slabs with a chop saw and explained how to preserve them.

We drove back to Kemmerer where we spent the rest of the day exploring.  Established in 1897, the town, population now about 2600, is home to James Cash "JC" Penney's "Mother Store"─which we did not explore─and a museum in a former LDS church, which we did explore.  Kemmerer is paired with Diamondville, population 753, which was known during prohibition as "Little Chicago" for its many stills, some of which are now in the museum, lovely large copper stills, constructed by a local smith.  Both towns have many no-longer-operating stores and houses that have seen better days along almost deserted streets.  Exploration did not take long.

Next morning we headed north to Yellowstone, stopping in Jackson for locally made organic ice cream at Moo's Gourmet Ice Cream, yum, and for the requisite tourist photos.

We had made arrangements late, so our reservations were in West Yellowstone, Montana, but on the way we of course stopped at Old Faithful, for more tourist shots.

As we drove along the Madison river, we passed a flashing sign warning of buffalo ahead, and sure enough, a herd was ambling across the road, causing a "bison jam," replacing the "bear jams" of 30 years ago.  The animals still had remnants of their winter coats.

The adults ignored the vehicles in the jam as we slowly worked through, but the calves were more curious.

The next morning we joined a park ranger for a guided 2 1/2 mile walk from Biscuit Basin to Mystic Falls.  While we waited, an Osprey hovered in the wind over the Firehole River looking for a meal.  It made several swoops, but never hit the water, so we did not see it catch a fish.

Our guide pointed out features of the hot pools at the Basin and led us on a narrow trail into the hills beyond until we ended at the Falls.

Some of the group continued up the trail for a longer circular trip back; Maren and I headed back the way we came, a shorter and easier walk, and took photos of resident marmots.

That afternoon, we walked the trail in Upper Geyser Basin past the numerous hot pools and spitting geysers to Morning Glory pool.

Tourists crowded around Old Faithful Inn and the trails nearby, reflected by the signs at the attractions lamenting vandalism.

Because items thrown in the pool restrict the flow of the 180-plus degree water, Morning Glory no longer has the pristine clarity it had just a few years ago, the water now clouded with algae that grows in lower temperatures.

By the end of the day, I had walked almost 8 miles at elevations from 6,000 to 7,000 feet, an exhausting feat; Maren had walked farther.

We headed north toward Mammoth, and found elk.

Surprisingly, the elk jams were not so extensive as the buffalo jams.

The herds look healthy, with calves still in spots, and the bull in velvet.

At Mammoth, we took Upper Terrace Drive, found parking despite the crowds, and walked out on the boardwalks overlooking the white calcium carbonate deposits.

We drove to Gardiner, Montana, for lunch and to see the Roosevelt Arch at the north entrance, which I had not seen since I was a kid driving to my summer job in the Montana woods.

Then we headed south on the east side, where, we had heard, there might be bears.  There were.  First we saw cars, pickups, RVs stopping, on the shoulders, in the road: a bear jam!  Then we saw the mother and cubs on the hill above, not 20 yards from the pavement.

A few miles farther, we ran into our second bear jam of the day, for another mother,

this time with her cub up a tree.

A few miles farther, a third jam, this time for grizzlies.  The first was about 50 yards down the slope from the road.

The second was about a thousand yards, a mere speck

until I pulled him in with my 450 mm lens.

People lined the road, vehicles stopped everywhere.  One driver stopped in the road, jumped out to see better, and left his door open, blocking the other lane─not that anyone was moving.  I could hardly blame them, these were my first grizzlies too, ever.

A classic bear jam, complete with classic 1930s roll-top yellow park tour bus.

A great trip, with only a two-day drive to home.

Flotsam

Thursday, June 7, the rain stopped, more or less, so we decided to run over to see the recent arrival from last year's tsunami in Japan, a steel and concrete dock washed ashore two days before at Agate Beach.  It was not the first flotsam to hit the West Coast─a soccer ball washed up in Alaska, a Harley in a shipping container in B.C., a derelict ship sunk before it entered shipping lanes─but it was a first for Oregon.
       At Newport, the sky had broken clouds, the temperature was in the 60s, a slight breeze blew off the water.  We pulled into the parking lot at the beach, walked through the tunnel under the road, and out into a delightful afternoon.

Others had had the same idea, but Agate Beach is big enough that the crowd was hardly noticeable.  We could barely see the dock about three quarters of a mile toward Yaquina head so we started hiking.

The dock weighs an estimated 165 tons, measures 66 feet long, 19 wide and 7 tall, but in the surf it did not seem significant.  In fact, one report suggested that for comparison, if the Pacific were the size of a football field, the dock would be about the size of a human hair.

The dock is one of four installed in 2008 in the port of Misawa, Japan, that had broken loose, identified by a plaque fastened to the side.

One was found washed ashore in Japan, this one 5000 miles away in Oregon, and two are still missing.  At low tide, the dock is dry, but we arrived shortly after high so we couldn't get close.

An OSU researcher said that hitchhikers on the dock presented "a very clear threat" of invasive species, especially a small crab that has infested the East Coast but not yet the West, an edible seaweed known as wakame that has hit southern California but not yet Oregon, and a starfish, about 3 inches across, that has not before been found in the U.S.

 To prevent their possible spread, volunteers scraped the dock, as shown in Oregon Parks and Recreation photos, then seared the surface to sterilize it.

An estimated ton and a half of material was removed and when we arrived it was being buried on the beach, clearly within storm tide levels.

"Experts" suggested that burial "above the high water line" was the best way to safeguard the environment, but remember in 1970 when experts thought the best way to dispose of a dead whale was to dynamite it?  You should read Dave Barry's report of the consequences of that decision: http://theexplodingwhale.com/evidence/resources/day-barry-article/.

The dock was a nice excuse for a walk on the beach but it hardly rivaled other surprises from the sea we have examined in the last forty-odd years.  Laurel remembers when we visited 41 beached sperm whales south of Sea Lion caves, at the time, 1979, the third largest number ever recorded.

 More recently, Deb and I examined a Grey whale beached near Seal Rock─she could not get close downwind, the smell was so ripe.

And few Oregonians can forget the ship that simply wouldn't go away─the New Carissa, beached, hauled off to sea, broken loose, and beached again─before being hauled away again and torpedoed.

So─after looking at the Zeniya Kaiyo Service dock, we drove to the South Beach Deli for some of the best fish and chips on the Coast.  A pleasant afternoon.

One Hot Trip

We drove to Portland on Tuesday to use the "Park and Ride" at the Radisson for our 6 a.m. flight to Dallas May 23─3 hours and 45 minutes in the air, a 3 hour layover, then an hour and 40 minute hop to Huntsville to see kids and grandkids and the new house, a lovely brick with wood floors, lots of rooms and bathrooms, enough space for kids and guests.

Fortunately, it has two air conditioning systems: the temperature when we arrived was in the high 80s.

A major reason for visiting at this time was to see Matthew in Clowns, a major production for sixth graders at his school , the last performance the next morning.  Cast call was at 7:30 so Laurel early helped him get started on face paint which he finished himself,

drove him to school, then returned to pick us up for the performance, a musical review featuring most of the students in the top three grades.

After, as a reward, we stopped at Starbucks for freezes, then drove back to the house.  The temperature was in the low 90s, nothing to faze Bamans, an oven for Oregonians.

Friday, we shopped at several antique malls, sprinting from air conditioned car to air conditioned building, but the only thing that tempted was a minuscule trowel and rake, sterling handles and elephant ivory, tools for a miniature Zen rock garden; the price was gigantic.  Deb wants to add that we visited the Unclaimed Baggage Center in Scottsboro, a final destination for luggage from airlines and bus services that cannot be reunited with owners, a conglomeration of bags, clothes, shoes, electronic devices and miscellaneous stuff, of which the most interesting is hung on the walls and not for sale: a 10-foot dungchen (Tibetan long horn), a 4-foot wide Benin bronze plaque, an African headdress.

We kayaked a 3-hour stretch of the Flint River, which flows near Huntsville between tree-covered bluffs and flatland into the Tennessee River, mostly slow moving but with a few fast spots for added interest.

We saw a heron, two raccoons, and heard birds we could not identify.

We visited Cathedral Cavern State Park, not far from Huntsville, and waited for the guide at the entrance, where the temperature was at least 20 degrees cooler than at the lodge 50 yards away.

 The cavern has a number of features to recommend it:  a constant temperature of 57-60 degrees─nice; the widest entrance of any commercial cave in the world, 25 feet tall by 128 feet wide;

the largest column in the world (named Goliath, 45 feet tall, 243 feet in circumference); and about two miles of an 8-foot-wide concrete walkway to view everything.

In 1995, Disney Studios shot the cave scenes in Tom and Huck here.

An area is set aside for weddings; minister, bride and groom stand on sand, guests stay on the path.

 We visited the Space and Rocket Center to see the Mammoths and Mastodons exhibition, created by the Field Museum in Chicago, a collection of fossils, artifacts, interactive exhibits and a replica of the most complete baby mammoth ever found, thought to have drowned in Siberia when a month old, frozen for 40,000 years.

And given the heat, we spent a lot of time in the new home:  Laurel cooked crêpes one morning.  David grilled yummy steaks at night.  I spent time with Matthew as he built Lego fire trucks.

As the sun went down, we sat on the second floor deck and enjoyed the view.

Wednesday morning, we rose about 3 a.m. (Oregon time) to catch the early flight to Dallas, looking forward to a leisurely breakfast during our 4-hour layover, but thunderstorms shut down DFW, a 2-hour flight turned into 6 hours including an hour or so refueling in Abilene, a mile sprint in the DFW terminal, and 4 hours later we land at PDX for the drive home.  Coolness.