2011 Old Sheepherders' Party

Last weekend we were fortunate to be able to attend the 2011 Sheepherders' Party, celebrating a way-of-life that is fascinating to me. It was held at the Border Inn and attracted a full house. Friday evening was open mike, and we heard some great stories of life out on the range, some risque jokes, super singing, and much more.

The next day we missed the sourdough pancake breakfast and range tour, but we were able to make it to the afternoon program featuring Sid Hausman.

Sid Hausman is a real treat. A talented musician, songwriter, and artist, he had something for everyone in the program. I was in awe of his musical ability, he made it seem so easy!

He switched to a banjo, giving a perfect twang for his Southwest-themed music.

Emma was having a ball. She loves music, and she spent nearly the entire program on her feet, wiggling along to the beat. Here she graces Denys with some of her moves.

Little Desert Girl could really move!

She took a liking to the gentleman sitting across the row from us and took her first step on her own without coaxing to go over to him. I didn't get a chance to tell him afterwards what a momentous occasion it was.

Ukelele? You bet. He made it sound good, too!

Then it was time to get the kids to Grandma and Grandpa's so my hubby and I could go enjoy the Basque-style dinner. It was wonderful not trying to entertain kids for two hours and just be able to enjoy conversing with our tablemates.

The food was delicious: soup, salad, lamb, beef, chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, wine, punch, and ice cream and cookie for dessert.

The cafe was packed, and everyone was having a good time.

I love this photo of Sam rushing off to do something important. He looks great in his cowboy hat!

Afterwards it was time to visit with friends and then get the kids so they could enjoy some dancing to the music of the Silver Sage Band. What a great party. We can't wait till next year!

(If you want to see more about sheep on this blog, click the little blue word sheep below.)

Into the Inversion

So we've managed to get an impressive amount of snow out here in the Great Basin Desert.

Even the old-timers are saying things like, "I haven't seen this much snow since my aunt wrecked the car by driving into a snow drift and then had to walk five miles home in a blinding blizzard (uphill), but instead she got lost and went in circles (uphill) for three hours, and then it was really like ten miles she walked (uphill), and she only survived because the Christmas star came out and guided her the rest of the way (uphill)."

Okay, nobody said that.

But I have heard a couple comparisons (or hoping that we aren't going to be compared) to the winter of '48-'49, which was a really bad one. So much snow fell and blew--and blew--that most of the roads in the area were closed and lots of livestock were stranded out in the range. Ranchers couldn't get out to check on them, because each time they started off from home in their Caterpillar dozers, the snow blew back over their tracks and they risked getting stranded themselves.

Sheepherders in lonely sheep camps couldn't even go far from their tiny abodes because of the deep snow. They despaired as they saw more sheep dying each day and they were helpless to do anything about it. They relied on the radio to get news of what was going on in the outside world. And fortunately they got news of something to help them out: Operation Haylift. The U.S. Air Force came out to help, dropping hundreds of tons of hay in western Utah and eastern Nevada. This real-life event took place using C82 "flying boxcars." You can read a pretty good account in this Time article. Hollywood also made a movie called Operation Haylift, using some real footage, and you can find it on Netflix.

Somehow I've managed to digress, because the real topic of today's post is the inversion we've had the past few days. I guess being in all the frigid weather with deep snow has put me in a wee bit of a gloomy mood with regards to weather.

Up high on the mountain, the weather has been great. It's snowy there, too, of course, but the sun is out and trees are emerging from their wintery weight.

Down in the valley, it's been a different story. Instead of the warmer weather being at the lower elevations, like it usually is, the temperatures have inverted, with a cap of air keeping the cold air down in the valley. Those cold air molecules have sunk, and they're trapped until we have wind to blow them out.

Entering an inversion is kind of an interesting process. You start out in the nice sunlight and see the cloud layer below. On the other side of the valley you can see the mountains poking out above the clouds, looking like islands in the mist.

The cloud layer made me think of the time when vast Pleistocene lakes, some as big as today's Lake Michigan, filled the valleys in the Basin and Range country. That was back in the days of the wooly mammoths, dire wolves, camelids, two different horse species, and an array of other animals that made their home here. Paleoindians roamed the area, hunting these animals. It was cooler and wetter than recent millenia.

We've gotten so much snow that the bushes are entirely covered, appearing as white hummocks from a fast moving vehicle. Or from a slow crawl. Or anything in between. This is the kind of weather you expect in Montana, not in Nevada.

The road straightened and the layer of clouds started looking more ominous. I could still see the mountains on the other side...

...but not for long.

It sort of felt like a bad horror movie. You know what's going to happen, but you just can't avoid watching it happen.

And then, there it was: the road disappearing into the clouds. And I was hurtling myself into it.

Help! Stuck in the inversion!

Fortunately this inversion cleared out in a few days. We don't have pollution stuck under the cloud layer with us (like Los Angeles frequently does), so although the colder temperatures (about 15 degrees colder that day in the clouds from up in the sun) and gloomier light might make everyone feel a bit grumpy, it could be worse.

When Desert Boy got up Christmas morning and asked why our stockings hung by the fireplace with care weren't filled with goodies (he had heard from a neighbor that they would be, and then I had promptly forgot), I considered telling him Santa Claus couldn't come in for a landing in the inversion. But I didn't. I chose distraction instead. Hopefully that was the right thing to do.

Coyote Calling

Pardon my rant. But rant I must.

I recently found out about a contest to hunt coyotes that will take place not too far from where I live (keeping in mind that distances are on a different dimension out here, anything within 100 miles 'isn't too far'). The goal of the contest is during one day kill as many coyotes as you can.

The supposed reason for the contest?
"Contest Purpose – to reduce the Coyote population in prime wild life habitats and to raise money for future projects sponsored by the Mule Deer Foundation Bristlecone Chapter"

Whoa, there. Did I miss something, or aren't coyotes also considered wildlife?

And is the Mule Deer Foundation really sponsoring this? I would have thought that a big, national organization would show a little more compassion.

I figured maybe I was just getting worked up because I usually try to protect all native species, and maybe I needed to get a different perspective. So I asked my husband what he thought about the contest.

He said, "I hope they don't hunt around here. We need those coyotes to eat the gophers that are out in the fields."

There you go. An ecologist's view and a rancher's view. We find that we agree most of the time, although our reasoning may be different.

I know that many in the sheep industry approve and support predator control. There is still a predator control guy who spends months in our valley trapping and poisoning coyotes before the sheep come in the winter. And there are low-flying planes that shoot coyotes.

But none of it makes much of a difference. Every year there are about as many coyotes as the year before. According to the website Predator Defense, the alpha coyote male and female are the only ones to breed, but if they are killed, then lots more coyotes breed. Apparently deer are only susceptible to being killed by coyotes for a few weeks in the spring, when the fawns are very small, but the rest of the time coyotes don't eat deer. Plus the deer populations are really high anyway (take a look at our feed yard to see that!).

So I don't like this coyote contest. It's going to go on regardless of how I feel about it, but I just need to write about it because it bothers me.

Okay, I feel better now. A little.

Mountain Home Range-Part One

So the day after Fourth of July we decided to go on a big adventure up into the mountains. Instead of going to one of the more popular alpine areas, we decided to go exploring in a mountain range that's basically in the middle of nowhere. That would be more adventurous, right?
Our first stop was this big water tank. Water is obviously important in the desert, so we often stop to take a peek at water! Even if it involves climbing up a ladder.
Here's the view at the top. My brother Ed took this photo (and all the other photos that don't have the Desert Survivor watermark), which makes it look like a wonderful swimming pool. It's quite deep, and it's algae giving such a green color to the water. It was chilly, fed by a spring further up a canyon.

We could see corrals off in the distance, so off we went for our first hike.

They were sheep corrals, and the kids soon got into the swing of things, pretending to be sheep. Baaa. I like how Megan convinced Caleb to give her a ride.

Then it was time to go up to higher country. The map showed a couple routes up there, and we decided to take the road less traveled, the one that was more direct. The road got rougher and rougher...the canyon got narrower and narrower....

...and finally we reached a spot that was too rough for the second of our caravan of vehicles to make it.
The old Suburban I was driving made it! Ha, ha. Actually the joke was on us, because the air conditioning wasn't working and it was a rather warm day. (Ed actually took a few of these photos with my camera. I haven't figured out how to drive and photograph myself doing that at the same time!)

This neat little arch was hiding up in the rocks. We went back down the canyon and found a much better road to go up higher.

All the older kids wanted to have air conditioning, so the younger kids were with Ed and me. Or maybe they just liked our fun-loving attitude? Actually, I think Desert Boy and Desert Girl were the main attraction. They both love to have their cousins' attention.

To keep the ride interesting as we went through miles and miles of rolling road surrounded by rather monotonous pinyon and juniper, we played that we were on a roller coaster. Desert Boy quickly caught on to the game and decided that he was going to be the loudest screamer. You can see (and hear) for yourself:


To be continued...

Desert Destination: Ibex Practice Rocks

About an hour west of Delta, Utah, steep cliffs descend to a dry lakebed called the Tule Hardpan. Over the last couple decades, these cliffs have been "discovered" by rock climbers as an excellent place to climb without crowds. About two miles to the northwest is a smaller rock outcropping, known (at least by me) as the Practice Rocks.

These Practice Rocks are sedimentary rocks called Eureka and Watson Ranch Quartzites. Fossils are rare, but occasionally found. The name Watson Ranch refers to Jack Watson, who moved to the southern end of the big Ibex crags in 1911. He developed a ranch and operated a small store for sheep herders and anyone else wandering around the West Desert for about 20 years. Nowadays, no one lives out here. In fact no one lives for at least 40 miles in any direction.

Because the practice rocks are so much smaller than the main crags, they don't get much attention. But there is a campfire ring, and after scrambling around on the rocks for twenty minutes, I decided I'd like to make use of it sometime. There is plenty to see and do to make camping a good option.

Many of the rocks are parallel to each other, allowing hallways, and in some cases, tunnels, to get between them. There are easy and difficult ways to move about the rocks, and it would be an awesome place to play hide and seek. (I can't help it, scrambling on rocks brings out the kid in me. In fact, I kept thinking how fun it would be to bring a bunch of kids out here and play--but I would give each one a whistle because the area is big enough it might be hard to hear a shout.)

The views are spectacular, with distant mountain ranges appearing in all directions. Notch Peak is to the north, which is a fun climb I'll cover someday in a separate post.

One of the surprises at the Practice Rocks is the corral, which was built using the rocks themselves on one side to help keep the sheep in place. The corral is in pretty good shape, so I expect it may still be used once in awhile.

The Practice Rocks are only about two miles south of Highway 50, and they're worth the detour to scramble around and take in the outstanding views. It's always fun to stop and find something is more than it seemed while passing it at 65 mph on the highway!

Short Jaunt Up Hendry's Creek, White Pine County

A great trail in Snake Valley is the Hendry's Creek trail. You'll need high clearance to get to the trailhead ( 39° 12.615'N, 114° 4.773'W), or just park a little farther down the two-track and walk up. The trail starts through sagebrush steppe and later enters the forest.

The unassuming Hendry's Creek trailhead is pictured above. The trail ultimately leads 11 miles up to the Table, a broad plateau under Mt. Moriah. The upper parts are usually snow covered until early June.

   

After the third stream crossing (there are many on this trail, so watch out during high water!), if you pause you can find four tree species. Do you see them in the photo?     

On the left is ponderosa pine, with its long needles. Behind it and darker green is Utah juniper. In the center back is pinyon pine. And on the right with the bristly branches is the big surprise, a bristlecone pine! Sometimes higher elevation trees will grow at lower elevations near creeks. Most bristlecone pines grow above 9,000 feet, so this one is about 3,000 feet lower than that!

The trail has some magnificent views of the quartzite cliffs that surround it.

  At 1.5 miles from the trailhead, you enter Mt. Moriah Wilderness Area.

Farther up, you see more and more ponderosa pines. I was on a trail run and turned around about 2 miles up. I wanted to keep going, but had people to meet. So I will go back again!

Added bonus, before we even got to the canyon, we saw seven bighorn sheep ewes by the rocky outcropping. I just had my phone camera, so the photo isn't too great. I was so excited to see them! They will head to higher elevations as the snow melts and more food becomes available.

Improving the Sagebrush Discovery Trail

Just west of Baker, Nevada is a lovely little trail we call the Sagebrush Discovery Trail. It's about two miles of old two-track road that follows along some irrigation ditches.

 Here's a map, with the Sagebrush Discovery Trail in purple on the top side of the map. As you can see, we had some fun with naming different sections of the trail.

 You can find more info on The Snake Valley Trails Partnership website. Periodic workdays are held to improve the trail, and one occurred last weekend. We wanted to improve the trail where it had flooded last summer and where 1,500 sheep had walked on it. The pathway had gotten a little narrow in places.

Fortunately some raking helped remedy that.


It was also time to move some rocks. The kids excelled at that.

One of our issues is that there are so many rocks. The Snake Valley Trails Partnership has partnered with the BLM and over the next couple of years will be improving the trail with a layer of gravel, interpretive signs, benches, an exercise circuit, trailheads, and more. 

Right now it's a little primitive, but an hour of work made it a lot prettier!

The kids even removed some trash that was in the ditch. 

The trail is easy to access, right next to town, and dog-friendly, so I love taking our dog there. Hopefully as the trail is improved, more people will enjoy this great spot.