Monday, June 13, 2011

Kansas II

You can’t talk about the prairie and not mention fire.  The prairie needs fire.  Fire rejuvenates it and fire protects it.  Fire is what keeps prairie…prairie.  Without fire, the prairie would be overwhelmed with trees and brush.  I’ve known that for years - it’s basic plant community ecology - but I saw it illustrated more clearly today than I ever have. 
Ranchers have been burning the Flint Hills for many decades – for as long as they’ve been ranching.  They probably learned it from the Native Americans.  A frequent, regular burning regime is why the Flint Hills remain the quality prairies they are today. 
Mike Rich, Manager of the Flint Hills National Wildlife Refuge, took me on a tour of the Flint Hills.  I asked Mike what the biggest threats to the Flint Hills prairie are.  We talked about many of the usual suspects, including development and energy (in this case wind energy), but the one that he kept coming back to was trees.  That can be a kind of a tough thing for folks to grasp.  So often when we think of nature, we think of trees.  When we want to do something good for nature we plant a tree.  But trees don’t belong on the prairie, at least not in big numbers.  Ranchers understand that.  It’s a simple matter of economics to them.  Cows eat grass; trees exclude grass; more trees mean fewer fat cows.  Fire keeps trees from encroaching on the prairie.  So ranchers burn.
Another thing these ranchers like is prairie chickens.  But in their efforts to produce good forage for their cows (through burning), they’ve gotten to the point where prairie chicken numbers are declining (along with some other grassland birds).  Prairie chickens need cover in which to nest.  When all or most of the land is burned every year, there is no residual tall grass left in which to conceal nests.  Exposed nests and hens means hens and chicks become easy picking for predators.  At the same time, prairie chickens don’t nest in forests, either.  They need broad expanses of good prairies. 
While these ideas seem to conflict with each other, the fact that so much of the Flint Hills still exists in healthy prairies means that the ranchers must be doing something tight.  They are.  They’re burning the prairie.  Maybe if we can get them so slow down just a little…
Please remember that prairies are complex ecosystems and vary tremendously across time and space.  What is good in one area at one time will not be the best approach everywhere at all times.  I don’t have the time or space (or knowledge!) to thoroughly delve into prairie ecology.  Hopefully, through the people I talk to, I can help introduce you to a few of the most important concepts and inspire you to seek to learn a little more about these fascinating places.
With that thought in mind…  Male prairie chickens gather and do a very cool dance in attempt to attract females.  Check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJCy0d94YS0&feature=related.

And lest you think that fire and trees are the only concerns in the Flint Hills, look closely at the following photo.  Notice the oil pumps and storage tanks.  And along with those pumps comes electricity (see the power lines) and the need for vehicle access (that’s probably why the road on which we’re driving exists):


The Flint Hills get their name from the layer of flint that tops the limestone and is frequently seen exposed at the crests of hills and in hillsides: 



Sunday, June 12, 2011

Kansas 1

I'm staying in Cottonwood Falls, KS tonight, en route to meet my friend Mike Rich tomorrow.  Mike is the manager of the Flint Hills National Wildlife Refuge.  He and I worked together in Iowa in 2001 and 2002.  Just north of Cottonwood Falls is the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve.  Notice the word "National" in the title this time.  The land is mostly owned by TNC, but is managed by the National Park Service.  I took a late afternoon walk around the TPNP and saw some good stuff.  I saw a bigger variety of birds than I saw in OK.  I heard Henslow's and grasshopper sparrows, saw upland sandpipers and common nighthawks displaying, and I even heard a barred owl calling.  I also saw some cool herps - an ornate box turtle (I think), an eastern collared lizard, and a texas horned lizard (see the Kansas Herpetofaunal Atlas for more detail about all three http://webcat.fhsu.edu/ksfauna/herps/index.asp).



Images from Oklahoma



The top two images are from the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve.  The bottom image is typical for that area.  Grazing and pumping oil or natural gas.  Done right, grazing can be compatible with prairie; in fact what is now the TPP was historically a ranch.  That's the reason the prairie still exists there.  But that is definitely not the case everywhere.  I'd love to see the land kept in prairie simply for prairie's sake.  Unfortunately, most landowners need the land to return a profit or they can't afford to keep it.  Some landowners are doing it, so it can be done.  What's the answer?  I'll be looking for that answer during my travels.  Oil?  Until we quit using gasoline and other petroleum products, they'll keep driling and pumping - no revelation there.  Reducing demand is our best weapon.  Can we make deliberate choices that reduce demand?  Of course we can.  Will we?

Saturday, June 11, 2011

The Tallgrass Prairie Preserve

THIS is what I was looking for.  This is why I came.  Big.  Open.  Expansive.  Rarely does reality live up to expectation; and even rarer are the moments when reality exceeds expectation.  This was one of those.   I stopped at a scenic turn-off, I sat on the bike and listened.  And looked.  And felt.  And smiled.  This was the scene I wanted to see.  This is where I wanted to be.
The prairie sloped away ahead of me, behind me, and in every other direction.  There was no visible end to it and that was what I wanted to see – or not to see.  I can’t think of any place I’ve been in the Midwest where there isn’t always at least a silo, a house and a cornfield at every cardinal point.  Here there is prairie.  It feels open, but not empty.  There’s too much life.  Birds, flowers, bison and even a few trees.  There’s never nothing.  And that was just what I could see from my big picture point of view.
 The Rocky Mountains are big and grand and magnificent.  You can’t not be awed.  But you can enjoy them from your car with the windows rolled up and the air conditioning on.  The prairie truly reveals itself only to those who take the time to immerse themselves in it.  You have to get out of the car, off the road, and pause.  You have to relax.  You can try to look for it, but I think you have to let it in.  It’s there, waiting to be discovered.  The closer you look the more you see.  It would take lifetimes to appreciate the intricacies contained in an acre of a prairie hillside.  Vertically, horizontally, and across time. 
There’s an illusion in the prairie.  You look out over the distance and think it’s the same, but it’s never the same.  I’m thankful that I’ve had people take the time to help me see it.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Wisconsin to Iowa

It's about 330 miles from my home to Robin's place in Des Moines.  Despite unfavorable forecasts, I made it all the way to Des Moines with nothing but a few sprinkles.  Unfortunately I did not make it all the way to Robin's house without bad weather.  At about mile 325 I hit hail, lightning, and pouring rain.  I was just getting off I-80 west onto I-235 south into Des Moines when the sky opened up.  I was watching dark clouds get darker for the previous 25-30 miles wondering how close I'd get before I had to seek shelter.  I thought my mojo was gonna carry me through.  Snap!  I guess my mojo isn't as powerful as I deluded myself into thinking.  Fortunately, there was a gas station within about a mile of the exit.  I laid low while the worst of the storm rolled through and then sprinted the rest of the way.

Snap #2 came as I pulled into Robin's garage - I noticed my low beam headlight was out.  Wait a minute.  That's not inconvenience.  It's adventure!  When you're traveling it's called adventure, right?  Right.  Yeah!  That was cool!  Right.....   Anyway...  A quick visit to my local NAPA store store and a few minutes in the garage and all is well.  Illumination and visibility have been restored.

One of my goals, once I get to Oklahoma, is to avoid the interstate, chain motels, and franchised restaurants until I leave my final destination.  Right now I'm sitting in a Caribou Coffee and I'm reminded why I'm going to avoid franchises.  There are about 30 people in here and at least 25 are drinking their beverages out of disposable cups.  And to my shame, I'm one of them.  Note to self: bring your travel mug next time.  Repeat this scenario at how many other Caribous around the country right now and how many single use cups will be thrown in the trash in the next few minutes?  Sigh.  We have a long way to go.  The good news is that I saw at least one customer at the drive-through pass reusable mugs into the window to be filled.  One out of 30 is not enough.

Okay, back on the road.  To Pawhuska, OK this evening.  My room for the next two nights does not have internet access, but I was told the public library does.  I'm hoping I can find access somewhere.

Thanks for the hospitality, Robin!

Stay tuned...

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Last minute prep

Final packing in progress.  Clothes go in a waterproof bag that will get strapped onto the back of the bike.  Other stuff - tools, spare parts, binoculars, bird book, extra shoes, rain jacket, spare layers - stay accessible in the hard bags.  Maps, camera, cell phone and charger, sunglasses, sunscreen (for my long, skinny neck!), notebook and pens, and water bottle go in the tank bag for easy access.  I'll be wearing a hydration unit under my jacket.

Mowed the lawn this evening.  I'll drop the doggies off at the kennel first thing tomorrow.  Will stop for gas and check the air in the tires on the way out tomorrow.  Oil is good and so is the fluid in the primary drive. 

Tomorrow's destination: Des Moines.  DM is about 5 hours ride time from home.  If I can get out by 2:00, I should roll in well before it gets dark.  I'll be staying with my friend Robin tomorrow evening.  Thanks, Robin!

The ride into Iowa tomorrow and back out again on Friday, will be a good intro to the trip.  Iowa was once probably the state with the highest percentage of land covered with prairie, but now has some of smallest percentages left.  Where did it go?  Under the plow.  That's a story I'll hear repeated everywhere I go during the next two weeks.

I made a map of my route in Google maps, but I'm old-school enough that getting it posted here is not quite as intuitive as it would be for most second graders.  If anybody wants to offer suggestions, I would gladly accept them. 

Looking forward to continuing the discussion from the road!