Desert Destination: Pinyon Pine Nut Picking

2009 has turned out to be a good year for pinyon pine nuts in our area. Many of the pinyon pine trees (Pinus monophylla) are loaded with cones. This species of pine tree grows throughout most of Nevada and into parts of Utah and California. Another species, Colorado pinyon (Pinus edulis), also produces pine nuts and is found in Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. (Click here to see maps and more info on these two trees.)

Pine nuts fall out of mature pine cones and can then be easily gathered. Even Desert Boy quickly got the hang of it. You can either pick up individual seeds from the ground or get pine cones and pry the nuts out of them. The second way can leave your hands covered with sap. Up to 25 pounds of pine nuts per person are allowed to be taken on federal lands.

Businesses also can bid on certain areas for commercial pine nut picking, and they use a slightly different technique, described in this Utah extension office PDF file.

Pinyon pine nuts have been an important food source in this area for thousands of years. A pine nut is about 10% protein, 23% fat, and 54% carbohydrate. It contains 20 amino acids and is rich in thiamine, riboflavin, vitamin A, and niacin.

In the photo above, you can see an old pine cone next to one from this year, with seeds still in it.

Desert Boy enjoyed picking up pine nuts, although he had to be taught to distinguish them from rabbit scat, which is about the same size, although a different color, shape, and texture.

We found a few trees just loaded with pine nuts, and since we only wanted a small amount (they are kind of a pain to shell), we were content after about 45 minutes of picking.

Daddy likes eating them raw.

Desert Boy observed and gave it a try, but wasn't as enthusiastic.

When we got the pine nuts home, we filled the bucket with water and scooped out the "floaters." About 10% are empty shells. Then we boiled the rest in salt water. They are also really good roasted with salt in an oven at 450 degrees for about 10 minutes.

Pinyon pine nut picking might not be quite as fun as blueberry picking (I have very fond memories of this as a kid!), but it still is a very popular activity. Many people go searching for pine nuts as a family event, traveling to where ever the crop is good that year. It can take several years for pine trees in one area to have another good crop, so it is a good way to visit some of the different mountain ranges in the area.

Pine nuts are often used in pesto. Bon appetit!

System's Key Cave

Okay, one more big cave trip before I take a long break! (At least that's the plan.) 

At the bottom of this limestone cliff pictured above is a little hole that leads into System's Key Cave.

Here are Ben and Meg checking the map. Our goal was to go into the passage that goes underneath the nearby creek. Sounds crazy, right? Where is our cave diving gear with tanks and masks and fins and string? Well, the passage was reported to be mostly dry, but we wanted to take a look for ourselves, along with noting cave biota and installing a datalogger.

We entered through a gate. We had gotten a permit so we had a key to get in.

Near the entrance we found several land snail shells. These are terrestrial snails that usually give birth to live young. They prefer limestone habitats and are generally only active in the spring and fall, when temperatures are moderate.

Some of the ceiling in the cave was a little unsettling--a conglomerate of boulders held together by dirt and sand. We went though that part quickly. 

Here's a heliomyzid fly. They seem to like caves and will hang out even far into them.

This neat looking creature is related to Daddy-Longlegs. It's called a harvestman, and it is a top predator in the cave ecosystem, looking for little springtails to eat. We were amazed by how many harvestmen were in the cave--there were places where you could see six at one time within a couple square feet.

My camera does okay with closeups in caves, but distant photos get a bit spotty. This photo is of Meg crawling through a low passage, with her pack attached to her ankle.

Pack rats had used the cave, and here is one of the more recent nests. They bring in lots of material from outside the cave, then cement it together with their urine and excrement. Over time it becomes huge. Climate change scientists can dissect pack rat middens to find out what vegetation the pack rats brought in (the pack rats usually stay within a fairly close radius of their midden). The different vegetation types allow them to reconstruct past histories.

Here's another cool cave creature, one that is totally cave adapted, meaning it isn't found outside caves. This is a millipede, and it is white because it has lost all its pigment. It doesn't have real eyes anymore, and it's appendages are probably slightly longer than some of its cousins up on the surface because it gets around by feeling its way. And it has a slower metabolism than millipedes on the surface, taking longer to get to reproductive age. Can you imagine how many thousands of years it took to evolve to these conditions?

Here's Meg, getting ready to get on rope. After going through the mazy part at the beginning, we reached the 25 foot drop. We put on our rappeling/ascending gear and inched down the passage to the edge.

Here's Meg starting on her way down.

And she's about to go to the part where it's a free hang. 

There were some nice views of cave formations on the way down.

These are some soda straws, stalactites, and draperies.

While I was busy taking pictures, Ben and Meg were checking out the cave register. No one had signed in since 2002.

Next we got to belly crawl through a miserable passage with lots of cobble rocks that kept poking me in uncomfortable places. Finally the passage got a little larger, allowing us to crawl, and then even stoop walk.

And then we got to the part of the cave under the creek, where a small stream of water falls into a seat-like part of the rock. This is called the Waterfall Room.

Ben checked the map again, because he spotted a lead that didn't appear on the map. He disappeared for a few minutes, checking it out.

Meanwhile, I installed a datalogger to collect temperature data every few hours. We'll see if there are seasonal changes in temperature. Most caves have relatively steady temperatures, but if they have more than one opening, or are influenced by surface water, the temperatures can fluctuate more.

We then kept going down the passage and basically climbed up on the other side of the creek. But alas, there was not a human-sized entrance. We found lots of pack rat sign, so there are  probably smaller entrances. We had to retrace our steps and belly wiggles and climb up the rope to get out of the cave.

Meg's smile shows that it was all worth it. Sometime next summer we'll go back to get the datalogger, and see if anything looks different in the cave. 

Dog Bed

We recently got Henry a new dog bed. I put it out in the sun for him to enjoy, and Desert Boy promptly went over and plopped down in it. It must have felt good on his bare feet.

Henry starts thinking that maybe he should have a chance to get in his dog bed. Desert Boy buries his head in his arms. He can be pretty stubborn. Wonder where he gets that from?

They negotiate, and Desert Boy gets to stay a little longer. They sometimes have conservations about the dog house, too, and have worked out a time-share arrangement.

Mystery Hole

After visiting Hutchings Hole, we went in search of another cave, and after another long drive across the bumpy roads of the West Desert, saw something strange out in the distance--a hole. Okay, a hole doesn't sound that exotic. But just wait. You'll see.

Nope, this wasn't the hole. This was the hole next to the hole. It had been excavated by miners at one time.

The real hole was much bigger. We had to climb over a fence to get to it.

Because if you came upon this hole unsuspecting in a vehicle, it would swallow the entire vehicle.

And many more. Here's a little perspective for this hole, with a person walking on the other side of it. It has several names, but I'm going to call it "Mystery Hole," which is what our guide called it.

Part of it curves under, and a lowered rope has measured the depth at about 100 feet. The sides are very loose soil, so it's not safe to rappel into the pit. Search and rescue teams sometimes come out and use Mystery Hole to practice highlines, setting up a line across the pit and then lowering someone down in the middle of it.

Down at the bottom of the pit is an old ladder. The story is that the miners had at one time dug the little hole all the way down to the same level as the bottom, tunneled over, and then took the ladder in that way. I'm not sure what they were looking for.

I spotted a nest about 3/4 of the way down the hole, but didn't see any birds around.

Mystery Hole certainly has some mysteries associated with it. The sinkhole is thought to be formed by piping, which if I understood correctly, is when water is pushed upwards and dissolved away the overlying layers. There must have been a series of underground pipes or tunnels to help move the sediment away, but it probably wasn't anything as direct as a river. The sinkhole is several hundred feet above the highest level of Lake Bonneville.

Can you see the truck in the background? A little more perspective! If you'd like to visit the hole, you can find more info, including coordinates, in the Millard County Visitor's Guide (available in and near Millard County, Utah). Be prepared to drive a long way on bumpy roads to get there. 

Or save your tailbone and just enjoy the photos here!

Goin' Fishin'

I needed to do some work next to a stream one day, so I took Desert Boy and Henry with me, knowing how much they like water. We had to walk across the stream, so I had Desert Boy dressed in irrigating boots. He decided he wanted to keep playing by the stream and use a little white bucket to catch some fish.

So, me being a mother who wants to encourage her son to be creative and not really caring how dirty he gets, hatched a plan. I took off his pants and socks, thinking that he would surely flood his boots, and this way he would stay dry. And I had neglected to bring a change of clothes for him with me (although we did have a coat in the truck). 

I watched Desert Boy's first attempt at catching fish. He scooped the bucket through the water, being fairly careful where he was walking.

And then he poured the bucket out. I'm not quite sure what he would have done if he had actually caught a fish in the bucket, but I figured the chances of that were extremely slim. 

Seeing his first attempt wasn't too successful, he headed back to shore to regroup. This is where the fun really began. And I didn't manage to get photos of any of it.

He did a few more scoops with the bucket, flooded his boots, and then wanted the water out of his boots. Then he headed back into the water--and you've probably guessed it--fell in, soaking his only dry shirt. He decided at this point he didn't want to fish anymore. So it was time to get him to the truck, put on his dry pants and his coat, and let him warm up. 

So his first fishing expedition didn't go too well, but he did have a lot of fun playing in the water until he got soaked and cold. Almost anytime we go near a stream he wants to get in, but he knows he's not supposed to get his shoes wet. So he sits down on the ground and starts tugging on his shoes and socks. If he won't get his shoes wet, surely he can go in?