Posts to this Blog (or lack thereof)

As you've noticed (or not), I haven't been hiking much lately. Mark it up to various modes of self-improvement that have taken most of my time...

In January I had surgery to fix my broken guts. Everything went swimmingly (big relief)... Shortly after I was given the green light from my surgeon to resume physical activity, I began to audit a course on conservation genetics which is now taking up most of my time.

I'm hoping to get back to hiking in late March... I'm hoping that it's not too muddy and that I can get to Bulrush Canyon, Lone Tree, or Starlight Beach sometime soon!

Until then, enjoy this picture of shooting stars, which are now blooming in profusion on the island!

Hammocks Hike

Date: 29 December 2009
Who hiked: Me, Hubby, Things 1 and 2
Weather: sunny and clear

Still on Winter Break, we talked Hubby into taking a long lunch one day and hiking to the hammocks with us.

This hike involved tackling Godhilla, which I’ve covered before. We headed up the hill and I actually found it a bit easier than it’s been before. I was a bit surprised, given that I haven’t really been exercising as regularly as I would like, but welcomed it all the same. We have three stopping points on Godhilla, each at relatively flat sections of the trail and I made each of them without much stress. The recent rains made the trail a bit more treacherous – small pebbles and dirt had run down the trail creating a slippery trail, so you couldn't let your mind wander from your footing!

At the top of the hill, the Things immediately rushed down the cutoff trail to get to the hammocks first. This part of the trail cuts across the hill, just below the crest, to meet up with the portion of the trail that returns downhill from the ridge. You walk down that trail to a trail that cuts back across the hill face to the spur that goes down to the hammocks.

The view from the hammocks is outstanding -- have a look the top picture on this post, which was our view.

There are two hammocks strung up in an oak that clings to the edge of the trail and overhangs the slope. You climb up into the tree a bit to get into the hammock, which means that you’re hanging higher in the air than you’d expect. The Things really like to hang out in the hammocks, though there is always much moving around, climbing in, and climbing out of the hammocks which makes Hubby and me nervous. The drop to the ground below is steep and there’s not much to stop one from rolling down the slope except sharp sticks and pointy prickly pear cactus. Thing 1 was quicker to the destination than Thing 2, so he got the primo hammock. This did not go well with Thing 2, who insisted on being allowed into the best seat.

Soon it was time to go home and we navigated the steep slope back to the road by Cat Harbor. This hill is actually worse than Godhilla -- that's why we almost always go down this way instead of up! The tide was very low – probably a spring low tide as we were right around the full moon. I stopped for a bit to look at birds (killdeer, a willet, and two whimbrels) while the boys continued on to home.

Parson's Landing

Date: 27 December 2009
Who Hiked: Me, Hubby, Things 1 and 2
Route: Emerald Bay to Parson's Landing and back
Estimated Distance: 2.4 miles
Weather: cool, cloudy
A few days after Christmas, when the Things' complaints about the newly-received Wii (when can we play? why won't this work? I can't do this!) had resulted in maximal levels of irritation in both parental units, we packed them into the truck and headed off to the west end of the island.
The West End Road is a trip in and of itself: barely 1.5 cars wide and full of hairpin turns, one edge butts against the rocky face of the island, the other edge drops to the ocean below. When you meet another vehicle on the road, you have either wait at a place that is wide enough for the other car to pass or you back up to a place that is wide enough for the two cars to pass. The alternative to patience and cooperation is scraped paint (if you get to close to the island side of the road) or a tumble into the ocean (if you get too close to the seaward edge). Meeting the Catalina Flying Boat panel truck is particularly terrifying.
Given that this was a Sunday, we had no vehicular traffic, though we ran into a few bikers, hikers, and runners. But no worries there -- plenty of room for a car and single-file people on the road!
We parked at the bar gate that blocks the West End Road just beyond Emerald Bay, where there is a large Boy Scout Camp and an environmental education facility called Mountain Sea Adventures.
We then hiked the length of the road beyond the gate to Parson's Landing, a popular camping locale.
The road is more or less flat and is bordered by lemonadeberry and toyon bushes. The lemonadeberry bushes were just setting fruit and the toyon bushes were thick with red berries. And they were all chock full of yellow-rumped warblers.
A trail branches away from the road and provides a shortcut to the beach, so we took this trail. It was surrounded on all sides by fennel, an invasive introduced plant on the island.

I have included a photograph -- all the gray stalks sticking up are fennel plants. In less than a half-mile, we were at Parson's Landing.
We were the only people on the beach this day, not a surprise given the gray weather.
The waves didn't seem too bad and Thing 1 was having fun running out to large rocks when the waves were out and then standing there as the waves swirled in and surrounded his rock. Thing 2 was a bit more timid about joining him, but finally worked up the nerve and ran out to the rock fortress too. Getting braver, Thing 1 ran out to a farther rock, but just then a large swell came onshore and the waves were bigger than he'd expected. Both Things dashed from their rocks to the safety of higher ground... The waves produced by these larger swells were infrequent (about 15 minute intervals), but impressive.


We walked along the beach and then hiked back along another road. This intersected the Trans-Catalina Trail at a couple of locations. At this point on the trail, we were only about 6.5 miles from the trailhead at Starlight Beach. An industrious fox had climbed to the top of one trail sign to mark its territory.
We hiked back to the truck along the road and then braved the West End Road home... and the boys talked about playing Wii for most of the trip.
Other birds seen/heard: Catalina quail, Northern ravens, Northern mockingbirds, House finches

Herman's Trail

Date: 20 December 2009
Who Hiked: Me, Hubby, Things 1 and 2
Route: Herman's Trail & Middle Ranch Road
Time: 1030 to 1330
Estimated Distance: ~5.3 miles
Weather: sunny, mid 70s

The consequence of waiting three weeks to write a blog post about a hike is that I can't remember much about it. I flunk one of the basic rules that every researcher learns: write it all down because you won't remember it later... even though you're SURE you will...

Anyway, the Things are on Winter Break from school, so we decided to get in a couple of family hikes. We have been eyeing this hike for a while. Herman's trail leaves from and returns to Middle Ranch Road, so we decided to hike it as a loop. We drove to the far trailhead and parked, then walked back on Middle Ranch Road to the trailhead that is nearer to Middle Ranch. The road here is nice and flat and we thought it would be a good warm up for the boys (and for us) before we hit the trail proper -- which in good Catalina fashion, heads straight up the freakin' hill.

I don't know who Herman is. It's not a name I have encountered in my reading about the island. If any of my (three) readers know, please send in a comment!

The walk along the road was quite nice, with lots of animal tracks to see (bison, deer, fox, and squirrel) and some acorn woodpecker granaries along the way. Granaries were in a couple of trees, including a large black locust planted just along Middle Ranch Road. We saw plenty of finches, ravens, some warblers, and heard a blue-gray gnatcatcher. We also were lucky enough to see the first California poppy that I've seen this year. This species is not native to the island, but they are pretty flowers and in years with enough rain, they line Middle Ranch Road through Middle Canyon.

At the trailhead, we stopped and had a snack and a drink, then hiked up the ridge. The trail was steep, but not as bad as some other trails we tackle (e.g. Godhilla -- see Hammocks Hike). The trail winds about the crest of the hill, going up and down as it moves from one end to the other. This was not too bad -- as soon as you got tired of going up, there was a (all too) brief respite of downhill hiking to get your legs back under you.

Thing 2 had announced that he was not going to complain on this hike, which was welcome news to his skeptical parents. But he came through on his promise and hiked the entire 5+ miles without a single whine. We were very pleased and enjoyed the hike much more for his enthusiasm. About half way along the ridge portion of the trail we could see the downhill portion of the hike, but couldn't tell exactly where it connected to our ridge trail. We were fooled at least three times -- thinking that the next peak was the final climb, when in fact there were additional summits to tackle. This wasn't a big deal for Hubby, me, or the non-whining Thing, but Thing 1 struggled with the disappointment. I don't think he was tired, so much as irritated. Reality was definitely not meeting his expectations.

Once at the top of the ridge, we were rewarded with a beautiful view of Thompson's Reservoir, with Santa Barbara Island in the distance (about 40 miles away to the northwest). We entertained ourselves on the hike by watching bison on a nearby ridge, betting on the altitude of the next peak (I won! Hit it on the nose!), and talking about Christmas. The Things were very into Christmas, it being only five days away.

We hit the downhill part of the hike and were oh so glad that we had gone the other way -- this sucker was steep steep steep. It went straight downhill, complete with rocks and pebbles that would send you shooting down the hill on your patootie. Thing 2 adopted the strategy of running downhill, which Hubby and I did not deem wise, but he was most of the way downhill before he admitted that he heard us yelling at him to stop.

We all agreed that the hike was a good one -- and hopped in the car to go home. On the way, we encountered a group of about a dozen bison on the Middle Ranch Road. They were walking toward us and stopped when they saw us, annoyed no doubt. There was a bit of a face off, with us looking at them and them looking at us. Hubby would edge forward, and they would stare blankly. I imagine they were thinking, "Hey, get the hell out of the way."
I suggested that we back up, and when we did, the bison began trotting down the road toward us. Turns out they wanted to take a trail that was a bit behind where we had stopped. Soon all twelve bison were up the hill and off of the road and we were on our merry way home.

Big Springs Loop

Date: 13 November 2009
Who Hiked: Me
Route: Big Springs Loop
Time: 1015 to 1255
Estimated Distance: 5 miles
Weather: cool, breezy, and sunny

I've been so delinquent in my hiking, that today I went out even though I wasn't sure I'd have time to finish the route I'd planned. But I printed off my images from Google Earth and commenced on my hike anyway -- even part of the route would be better than none at all.

I left the house and drove to the trailhead, about a mile from the buffalo gate above Two Harbors. It was a beautiful day and I was excited to get started walking. The day was cool (maybe in the low 70s) and breezy. But the sun was out and I knew that I would warm up nicely once I got going.

The trailhead is just before the buffalo corral on Little Harbor Road. The trail is flat for about 0.5 mile until is climbs for about another 0.5 mile to an overlook of the San Pedro Channel and Empire Landing. An old mining community, a few families live at Empire Landing.

Between the top of the hill and the overlook of Empire Landing, I found a grove of oaks. Their low gray trunks twist out of the ground to sprawl just above the surface of the grass. Even though I'd only been hiking a short time, it was too good to pass up, so I sat for a while and ate a mini-bagel with cream cheese. Louv is right ("Last Child in the Woods") when he describes how nature soothes us, allows our minds to quiet so that we can think more clearly.

At about 1.5 miles, I began to walk downhill from the ridge overlooking the Channel and Empire. This part of the trail is steep in places, with rocks that rise on either side of the road. I found a lovely nearly clear chunk of quartz, which joined a piece of diatomaceous rock already in my backpack. I can't wait to look at the diatomaceous rock under a microscope to see the fossil animals immortalized in stone. Soon I reached a fork in the road, with one road heading precipitously downhill to Empire Landing. THAT must be quite a ride during the rainy season. Drivers must say a hasty prayer, click their vehicle into 4WD, teeter on the edge, then drop off the ridge, relying on their experience with the permanence of objects that the road is still there, because once you head over the edge, you probably can't see much until the nose of your vehicle is pointed all the way down. And by then you've committed to the trip, for good or ill.

The second road at this junction heads off uphill, but Big Springs Road, which is my route, heads south into a valley. The next 0.5 mile of Big Springs Road is a lovely stretch, with shrubs and oaks that reach over one's head. The bushes were full of spotted towhees, which I don't see often on the island. I pished up two and heard at least four or five more. The yellow-rumped warblers also liked this stretch, with its bushes to flit around. They vary from being very brightly colored, with vivid yellow throats, to being fairly dull (more like their East Coast counterparts). The habitat opens up more, but there are still clumps of vegetation along the road and I see and hear a number of birds.

It is the season of white-crowned sparrows on Catalina. The bushes have been rife with sparrows, though they are all fairly dull with their brown and tan heads and their beaks, half-way between orange and pink. I've seen many of them around Two Harbors and on the road out to Ballast Point, at the mouth of Catalina Harbor. Today was no exception, as it seemed that all along the road I saw white-crowned sparrows.

At about 2.5 miles into the hike, I came upon the Big Spring Reservoir, which at this time of year is dry. A short while later (about 0.25 mile), the road paralleled a wetland area, that must be spring-fed -- perhaps the "Big Spring"? Anyway, there were cat tails and other green vegetation in and along the rim of the stream from this spring for about the next quarter of a mile. At an incredibly huge tree [species?], the road angled sharply west and uphill.

After a short, but steep, uphill trudge, I reached the Little Harbor Road again. Near the junction of Big Springs and Little Harbor Roads, I found a pitfall trap array. Designed to sample small animals, a pitfall trap array is a Y-shaped series of barriers, often erosion control fencing, punctuated by pits, which can be opened and closed. Small animals encounter the barrier, travel along it, and fall into a pit. The pits, in this case, five-gallon buckets, are deep enough that the small animals cannot escape. Pitfall traps are opened for short periods of time (e.g. overnight, 24 hours) and checked regularly during that time. Some organisms are identified and released (like small mammals, lizards) while animals that are harder to identify might be preserved so that specialists can identify them later. Given that I'm hoping to do some diversity monitoring using the pitfall trap arrays that are established on Catalina, it was interesting to find one.

I was not thrilled to walk along Little Harbor Road, inhaling dust every time a vehicle passed. So I headed straight uphill along a secondary road that forked off at this intersection. It was steep for nearly 0.5 mile, then ran along the edge of the crest for about a quarter of a mile. To my right I could see the valley, with the Big Springs Reservoir and the wetland along Big Springs Road. To my left, I could see the Buffalo Corral along Little Harbor Road. The trail headed downhill to the Corral, which I walked around to reach Little Harbor Road.

I found several acorn woodpeckers in a tree across the road from the Corral. It is a tree that has been used for nesting, as evidenced by the large holes excavated in the trunk. I don't know if island populations of acorn woodpeckers are exactly like mainland populations, but acorn woodpeckers elsewhere in California breed communally. Communal breeding occurs when multiple females contribute eggs to a single nest. Not all birds are equal: dominant birds are more successful at raising young than are more subordinate females. Acorn woodpeckers eat acorns, which are available only at certain times of year. So, like squirrels and chipmunks, birds store acorns for future consumption. But they don't bury them in the dirt -- they carve an acorn-sized hole in wood, and pop a single acorn in each. Storage locations are usually clumped, with a single granary tree containing thousands of holes. On Catalina, I've seen granaries in buildings (Eagle Nest Lodge, barns at Rancho Escondido) and in fence posts. Granaries are valuable because they represent years of labor; thus, groups of acorn woodpeckers defend their granaries against other groups of acorn woodpeckers.

I walked along the road for a bit until there was a gap in the Opuntia so that I could walk along truck tracks in the wash adjacent to the road. The bushes here were also full of birds, and I saw my first blue-gray gnatcatcher (on Catalina). A short bit later, I was at my truck again and ready to head home!


I expected to see snakes or lizards today -- the temperatures were cool, but the sun was warm and I thought that they might be out basking on the road. But no luck!

Species seen today: California quail, Western gull, Mourning dove, Allen's hummingbird, Acorn woodpecker, Say's phoebe, Common raven, Blue-gray gnatcatcher, Northern mockingbird, Hutton's vireo, Spotted towhee, Yellow-rumped warbler, White-crowned sparrow, Western meadowlark, House finch

All the distances that I reference in my blog post are estimated from Google Earth. In fact, I had no idea how far apart things were. In fact, I was surprised when I hit Little Harbor Road -- I thought I was way on the other side of the loop. Goes to show how good I am at estimating distances as I walk!

Bushwackin'

Date: 7 September 2009
Who hiked: Me, Hubby, Things 1 and 2
HIke route: across the dam at the Lower Buffalo Reservoir, including part of the Trans-Catalina Trail and Little Harbor Road
Time: 1:20 PM to 3:45 PM
Estimated distance: about 3 miles
Weather: Warm and sunny, probably in the upper 70s

This hike was something.

We had looked at the route on Google Earth and had decided on a plan. However, cloud cover on the maps made it difficult to see ground-level details throughout our planned route. So, naturally, our plan was relatively useless once we were on the trail.

We started by parking the truck on the pull off on Little Harbor Road above the Lower Buffalo Reservoir. Walking along the road, Thing 2 was estimating the age of the bison tracks we found in the soft dirt at the edge of the road.

We took the trail that leads down to the dam and stopped for a while there to watch dragonflies, damselflies, mallards, and to look for bullfrogs. We didn't see any bullfrogs. There were several flocks of mallards, one on the pond itself and two that flew over (or the same flock twice, I'm not sure since each contained the same number of ducks!). There were a number of odonates (dragonflies and damselflies), including common green darners (Anax junius), flame skimmers (Libelulla saturata), and bluets (Enallagma sp.). I also saw and heard Western meadowlarks and killdeer. As we walked along the dam we startled a covey of Catalina quail (about 30 of them) from the willow thicket that grew on the side of the reservoir.

So far, so good.

We decided to take a "road" that consisted of a track from trucks who have gone this way. Occasionally. At some time in the past. Thing 2 began complaining that the dry vegetation itched on his legs. I'm sure that it did, but we couldn't really do anything about it, so we all ignored him. Poor guy -- no sympathy at all from his parents.

Five minutes later, the road ended abruptly at a dried-up creek bed. We saw ahead that there was a fence that would likely intersect our path, forcing us to either climb over or turn around. So Hubby suggested that we travel up the creek bed, which was cut relatively deep into the valley and would likely take us under the fence. We thought we were sooooo clever!

We successfully negotiated the underpass for the fence, and continued along our dry creek bed. The banks of the creek were probably about 3-4 feet higher than the center, where we were walking. Now the whole time we're navigating this creek bed, I'm thinking, "snakes". And I'm thinking "snakes at eye-level on the creek bank". I half-expected all the time to turn my head to see the nice loreal pits of a rattlesnake staring at me from the side of the creek... Yikes. Thankfully, no snakes.

So we head up the creek, which is generally the right direction for us to pick up the actual trail, which we are fairly certain is above us on the adjacent ridge. We climb over trees. We find a beautiful rock that Hubby refused to carry back home in his backpack. Wimp -- it couldn't have weighed more than 10 pounds. We climb under branches. We almost walk right through an awesome spider web. I take pictures of the spider, and then the Things carefully dismantle her web so that we can pass without hurting her. We negotiate around prickly pear plants. We climb up at least three steep rock falls. Thing 1 is worried that his mother is too frail for this sort of thing. "Are you all right, Mom?" (I was fine, although a bit peeved at Hubby because I had to be mad at someone and it sure wasn't going to be me!)

Eventually, we are close enough to the top of the ridge to abandon our creek and strike out for the top. The hill is treacherous -- steep with lots of loose stones and prickly pear. Thing 2 slips and gets poked in the eye with a stick and gets a large chunk of plant material in his eye. Mom to the rescue. But then, about an hour after turning off of the old truck trail and into our creek bed, we come upon the trail on the ridge... and were rewarded with a glorious view of the "back side" of Catalina. It was a bit cloudy, but the view of Cat Head at the entrance to Catalina Harbor was marvelous.

We are now on a proper trail, the Trans-Catalina trail, which takes hikers between Little Harbor and the Banning House Road and we head toward the microwave tower that marks the junction of these two trails. The trail is straight and marches along the ridge. One really steep downhill portion made us very glad that we were traveling away from Little Harbor rather than to Little Harbor! We don't want to go all the way to the Banning House Road (see my hike on the Old Coach Road), because that will really increase our travel time and now it's about 3 PM and there is a PTA cookout at Isthmus beach that starts in one hour! We know that there is a fire break/animal trail down the crest of an adjacent ridge, so we keep our eyes out for that turn...

Now, Thing 1 is a great hiker. He just chugs along, talking about what we're doing, pretending to be a Tongva guide, or commenting on anything that pops into his head. Thing 2, on the other hand, is not quite old enough to be a good hiker yet. Still feeling negative from the stick-in-the-eye incident, he began complaining bitterly as soon as we hit the Trans-Catalina Trail. He was tired. His backpack irritated his neck. His legs were sore. His backpack was heavy (it contained one apple, one granola bar, and about two cups of water at this point).

Hubby and I knew that Thing 2's real problem was hunger, but we couldn't convince, cajole, or force him to get food out of his pack. Eventually, I took his granola bar out of the pack, opened it, and stuffed a chunk in his mouth while he stood there, glaring at me. He did chew; I didn't have to move his jaw for him. And as soon as a little bit of glucose entered his system, he was better... I kept handing him pieces of granola bar and he kept eating it. This offered us a brief reprieve from Thing 2's dismay at the length of our hike.

We hoofed it down the hill to Little Harbor Road, which was a fairly long downhill. My and Hubby's knees felt nearly every step. We got to the bottom and Thing 2 was just spent. The two boys and I decided to let Hubby go get the truck and pick us up, as we were on the way back to Two Harbors.

It was an adventurous hike, to say the least. I think that both Things really liked the climb up the dry creek bed. I would have enjoyed that bit more if I hadn't been concerned about (1) snakes and (2) eventually finding a real trail that would take us back to our truck! So I'm going to chalk this one up as a success and a learning experience!

Other species: Northern ravens

A Few of my Favorite Things

Date: 5 September 2009
Who hiked: me
Hike route: Intertidal area of Isthmus Cove
Time: about 2:30 PM to 4:00 PM
Estimated distance: hardly any at all!
Weather: sunny and warm (low 80s)

Today I didn't really hike, but I did do a nature walk that I wanted to write up. I had been itching to do some poking about in the rocky intertidal areas of the local beach for some time. Low tide was at 4:30 and by 2:30 I had had enough of the Things and needed a break. Hubby was home from his SCUBA class, so I took off with our new camera, which just arrived on Friday.


I really like to explore the intertidal. It has a lot in common with one of my other favorite biological activities: looking for salamanders. Now those of you who know me will say, "But you have many 'favorite' biology activities." And you are correct -- I do! But one thing that I really like is the turning over of rocks. To find salamanders, you turn over rocks. It's like a grand treasure hunt... Sometimes there's nothing there. Sometimes it's a common species of salamander -- say a red-backed salamander -- which is always fun. But sometimes it's something really exciting, like a red salamander or a ring-neck snake.

The intertidal is a lot the same way. You don't know what you're going to see. Sometimes you lift up a rock or move aside a piece of algae and you find an anemone or a crab. They're great to look at or poke, no matter how many times that happens. But sometimes, you lift up the piece of algae and you get a sea hare!

So about today. The rocky area of Isthmus Cove is at its west end. The tide was not going to be particularly low -- only 1.0 ft above mean low tide height. But that is pretty good for the daytime low tides during the summer and we are on the full moon. I walked to the west end of the beach and began to climb out onto the rocks. The tide was already low enough to expose most of the aggregating and green anemones.

As I moved my way along the intertidal, I looked both high and low, but especially just above and below the water line. Diversity tends to decreases as one moves up from the water, because the terrestrial zones of the intertidal are so stressful to live in. It's a rough gig, trying to live in a habitat that experiences such variation in temperature, solar radiation, humidity, salinity, and tops that off with wave action!

I like to take my time and pick through areas in the intertidal. For example, it's fun to turn over a rock and try to count the hermit crabs, each no larger than a baby's fingernail, before they scurry away for safer harbors. I like to lift up the algae that is exposed at low tide. Organisms like to crawl under the algae, where it is cooler and wetter. Even if the top layers of the algae almost completely dry out, there are still usually critters underneath to find. Algae is remarkable in and of itself -- many intertidal species can lose extensive amounts of water, until they are dry and crispy, and then re-hydrate when the tide comes back in.

Today the rockweed that covers many of the rocks in this location was hiding a number of good organisms, including three sea hares. None were large -- the biggest was about the size of my pinky finger and the smallest probably about half that big. I got photos of one. These are herbivores that eat algae, especially a red alga (Plocamium). Their integument is velvety, touching one feels like stroking an over-stuffed suede sock.

Another species that I was excited to find was the ghost anemone, an introduced species from the East Coast. There is a small population of these anemones at Isthmus Cove. The largest individuals were the diameter of an eraser on a pencil!

Species observed today: California sea hare (Aplysia californica), Aggregating anemone (Anthopleura elegantissima), Green anemone (Anthopleura sola), Ghost anemone (Diadumene leucolena), owl limpets (Lottia gigantea), pink barnacles (Megabalanus californicus), acorn barnacles (Chthamalus/Semibalanus), other limpets, chiton, wavy top snails (Lithopoma undosum), Norris's top snail (Norrisia norrisi), hermit crabs (mostly Pagurus samuelis), unicorn whelks, scaled worm snails (Sepulorbis squamigerous), California mussel (Mytilus californicus), California cone (Conus californicus), Kelp lace bryozoan (Membranipora membranacea) -- on rockweed, rockweeds (multiple species), elephant snot (Colpomenia, red coralline algae, sea lettuce (Ulva)