For those of you who have been faithful blog-followers of mine from the start, you'll recall that this past summer I worked extensively in the field in northeastern Wyoming. You'll also remember that one of my main priorities involved tracking five radio-collared Greater Sage-Grouse (Centrocercus urophasianus) on a weekly basis (which you can read about here, here, here, here, and here, among others).
Although my feelings regarding my time spent in Wyoming are ambivalent at best, I can say with utmost certainty that the thing I enjoyed most about my fieldwork for the BLM was tracking sage-grouse. I loved radio telemetry. I loved going out every week, usually on Fridays, and finding "my" birds. I loved being out on the prairie. And the places I visited and the areas in which the birds spent their time was consistent enough to lend some stability, some constancy, to my otherwise volatile life in the field.
Not only was sage-grouse tracking the most enjoyable of my field activities, I also felt that the data I was collecting was, potentially, the most important, the most likely to make an impact in terms of management strategies and conservation.
Greater Sage-Grouse are the largest type of grouse in North America. As their name suggests, they live only in areas of the West where sagebrush provides adequate cover, including parts of Nevada, Colorado, Utah, California, Wyoming, and Montana. During winter months, the birds subsist entirely on the leaves of sagebrush. They also rely on sagebrush for cover, both from predators and as protected sites for nesting.
Largely, however, Greater Sage-Grouse remain poorly understood. Scientists have yet to determine variation in seasonal patterns of movement and habitat use, the importance of habitat connectivity to breeding site selection, or the effects of anthropogenic influences, such as noise pollution, on nesting success.
What is known is that the number of Greater Sage-Grouse are dwindling right alongside sagebrush landscapes. In the last century, Greater Sage-Grouse have experienced a 90% decline in population and a 50% decline in habitat availability. Habitat loss is the single greatest threat to the survival of the species. The birds have been extirpated from much of their historic range, including British Columbia, Arizona, New Mexico, Kansas, Nebraska, and Oklahoma.
Greater Sage-Grouse were first petitioned to be listed as an endangered species under the Endangered Species Act (ESA) during the early part of the G.W. Bush administration. In 2004, it was ruled that the species did not need protection. In 2007, however, following an internal investigation of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (the agency responsible for implementing the ESA), the ruling was overturned, citing that the executive responsible for the initial decision had acted improperly and without adequate scientific evidence.
Greater Sage-Grouse were then re-petitioned for listing, and after several years of delay, a final decision was made. This past Friday, March 6th, 2010, officials with the Department of the Interior (DOI) announced that the Greater Sage-Grouse will not be listed as an endangered species-- or even a threatened species-- under the ESA. Despite the rapid loss and degradation of sagebrush habitat across the West, as well as plenty of evidence that suggests that Greater Sage-Grouse numbers are under serious threat, the DOI refuses to list the birds.
The most frustrating aspect of this all? The government concluded that listing the birds as endangered is "warranted but precluded" by higher priorities, meaning that the species meets the scientific criteria for protection but that other species are in greater need of conservation.
Really, DOI? Is it really that "other species are in greater need," or is it that listing the birds would impact energy development throughout the West, including the all-important oil and gas industry? I have a feeling that the final decision had more to do with politics than anything else.
The good news is that the status of the species will be reviewed on an annual basis. Thus, if numbers continue to decline, Greater Sage-Grouse could be listed as a threatened or endangered species in subsequent years. Additionally, federal officials announced that they would review plans for new energy development on federal land with an eye to minimize the impact on sage-grouse habitat.
Fairly early on last summer, when I first began tracking sage-grouse, I mentioned the debate about whether to list the Greater Sage-Grouse to my supervisor, Dwayne. "God, I hope they don't list them. That would suck so much," he said.
"What do you mean it would suck?" I asked. "We're talking about protecting a species from extinction."
"Do you know how much extra work I'd have to do?" he replied.
I wonder how many government officials would prefer less work at the expense of effective conservation practices. I have a sinking feeling that Dwayne isn't the only one.
I also have a feeling that I'll be faced with similar situations for much of my professional career-- scenarios wherein protection is "warranted, but precluded by 'higher priorities'."
Showing posts with label BLM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BLM. Show all posts
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Thursday, October 29, 2009
What Kind of Day Has It Been
I had good intentions to update this post this weekend, after I first returned home. I assumed that Saturday, after all my things had been unloaded and stored, that I would spend the evening leisurely contemplating the events of the past five months, and that Sunday morning I would be ready to write it all down. But Saturday evening I was more concerned with making a visit to Chipotle, and Sunday I couldn't quite convince myself to write anything. Also, I had to make another visit to Chipotle.
Despite the fact that my life has suddenly become much less interesting, my brain is saying it's Thursday and it's time to finish this post.
Last Friday I said goodbye to the BLM. You may remember my very first post here, in which I mentioned that on the first day of my internship, my boss was not at work. How ironic, then, or perhaps just fitting, that he should also be absent on the last day of my internship. Dwayne left on Thursday afternoon, after he'd been assured that I'd turned in all my equipment and finished the reports for which he'd asked. He and I never really "clicked," but we did get along well enough, so we amicably went our separate ways. And, in a gesture I've interpreted as a parting gift, Dwayne let me write and send official government correspondence, complete with letterhead, signatures, and pre-paid postage. Cool.
Friday morning our office was nearly empty. I had little to do, since I'd returned nearly everything to Dwayne and had already completed all my work. I whittled away the morning breaking the government rules about internet use in the office, reading and sending personal emails, running pointless Google searches, and looking for job openings. I emptied my desk, returned various borrowed items, took down my posters, and picked out my three favorite deer and pronghorn sheds to bring home. R brought in a chocolate cake (mmm... chocolate cake) and M took me out to lunch (mmm... lunch).
And that was that, really. I had a brief meeting with the field manager, Tulip; an attempt at a proper evaluation. Nonetheless, I was given the opportunity to voice my concerns, and the two of us had a good conversation about the benefits and drawbacks of the program, and all the things the internship could stand to improve. I turned in my keys, bade everyone well, and left.
The next morning, I loaded all my things, vacuumed out the apartment, and made the long drive home.
Several people have asked me what it's like to finally be back, how I felt to be leaving Wyoming. I was obviously enthusiastic about returning home, leaving the tiny, dirty town of Newcastle far behind. My mom asked me recently if my time in Wyoming now seemed a bad dream. So it might surprise everyone, much as it did me, to find that leaving Wyoming and my job with the BLM wasn't quite as easy as I'd imagined.
Don't get me wrong... For the most part, I couldn't stand the BLM's multiple-use land management policies, the bureaucracy, the ridiculous, languid pace at which tasks are completed. Nor could I stand the town in which I was living, the incessant, unrelenting noise from the trains wearing down my last nerve, the ever-present sour smell from the oil refinery, the brooding, suspicious people, the endless stream of hunters.
There were times when I was terribly lonely, when I wanted nothing more than a companion with which to go hiking or camping or visit nearby tourist attractions. I butted heads with landowners, bit my tongue in the office, forced myself to appear neutral in the face of competing interests. There were countless times in the field when I wasn't sure where I was going, when I got lost or turned around. There were times I'd drive into places not knowing whether I'd be able to get out.
I drove on washed out roads and into narrow, steep canyons. I climbed up and down canyon walls and the nearly vertical edges of crumbling drainages. I fought with broken posts and rusty barbed wire. I trespassed far more times than I would have liked. I slipped across hills, slid into ravines, jumped across creeks, and received more than a few cuts and bruises from meeting up unexpectedly with stumps, rocks, and yes, even the ground.
So... why do I feel like I've lost something?
Perhaps because, in the end, the internship represented a lot more than the sum of its negative parts.
Wyoming is gorgeous. Take away the fencing, the train tracks, the highways, get rid of the cattle, the hunters, the far-right-wing, anti-environment, hostile landowners, the oil and gas rigs, the weathered, beaten-down farmhouses... and what's left is incredible. Stunning. Endless stretches of fragrant sage... hundreds of species of flowers, each week a new one blossoming... towering, ancient cottonwoods. Groves of spruce and ponderosa pine...tracts of quaking aspen.... miles of canyon bottoms laced with grasses and gentle rays of sunshine. Every time I hiked off somewhere and dropped out of sight of the man-made world, I felt completely at ease, almost deliriously happy.
There were good people, too. Ally, who willingly works for the BLM full-time. Neela, who runs the Weston County Humane Society. Amanda, who came to walk the dogs there nearly every single day. Steve and Bob Carter, whom I visited with several times. David, who doesn't own a phone but was more than happy to show me around his property when it came time for me to trespass there. The Mills, who unlocked gates for me more than once. Paul, who was always grateful when I gave him a courtesy call. Ed , an absentee landowner who called me once from Iowa to warn me of a particularly temperamental bull on his property. Perino, Christensen, Simmons, and Popham, graciously giving their permission for me to traipse out on their land every week to look for grouse. Oil Roustabout Guy, who I often ran into and chatted with on Fridays when driving out to find 45. And of course, Russell Davis, who very nearly restored my faith in humanity.
And, aside from the people I met and the nuances of my job is this: my five months in Wyoming provided me a great deal more responsibility, flexibility, independence, and freedom than I've ever had. I spent nearly half a year entirely on my own. I saw things that most people will likely never see, drove on roads most people will never drive, traveled to areas few people have ever traveled.
As I made the drive back home, rain lashing down on my windshield, I surprised myself by thinking wistfully of the places I'd visited over the course of the summer... roads I'd taken, creeks I'd crossed, hills I'd summited, drainages I'd followed... places where the radio signal for NPR was good... places where the radio signal for NPR was bad...places I'd found my grouse... places I'd stopped just to be... places where I wondered "WTF am I doing out here?"... places where I'd never felt better. And as I thought back over everything I'd done and everything I'd seen and everything I'd felt and every place I'd been, I found myself wondering, just what kind of day has it been?
Despite the fact that my life has suddenly become much less interesting, my brain is saying it's Thursday and it's time to finish this post.
Last Friday I said goodbye to the BLM. You may remember my very first post here, in which I mentioned that on the first day of my internship, my boss was not at work. How ironic, then, or perhaps just fitting, that he should also be absent on the last day of my internship. Dwayne left on Thursday afternoon, after he'd been assured that I'd turned in all my equipment and finished the reports for which he'd asked. He and I never really "clicked," but we did get along well enough, so we amicably went our separate ways. And, in a gesture I've interpreted as a parting gift, Dwayne let me write and send official government correspondence, complete with letterhead, signatures, and pre-paid postage. Cool.
Friday morning our office was nearly empty. I had little to do, since I'd returned nearly everything to Dwayne and had already completed all my work. I whittled away the morning breaking the government rules about internet use in the office, reading and sending personal emails, running pointless Google searches, and looking for job openings. I emptied my desk, returned various borrowed items, took down my posters, and picked out my three favorite deer and pronghorn sheds to bring home. R brought in a chocolate cake (mmm... chocolate cake) and M took me out to lunch (mmm... lunch).
And that was that, really. I had a brief meeting with the field manager, Tulip; an attempt at a proper evaluation. Nonetheless, I was given the opportunity to voice my concerns, and the two of us had a good conversation about the benefits and drawbacks of the program, and all the things the internship could stand to improve. I turned in my keys, bade everyone well, and left.
The next morning, I loaded all my things, vacuumed out the apartment, and made the long drive home.
Several people have asked me what it's like to finally be back, how I felt to be leaving Wyoming. I was obviously enthusiastic about returning home, leaving the tiny, dirty town of Newcastle far behind. My mom asked me recently if my time in Wyoming now seemed a bad dream. So it might surprise everyone, much as it did me, to find that leaving Wyoming and my job with the BLM wasn't quite as easy as I'd imagined.
Don't get me wrong... For the most part, I couldn't stand the BLM's multiple-use land management policies, the bureaucracy, the ridiculous, languid pace at which tasks are completed. Nor could I stand the town in which I was living, the incessant, unrelenting noise from the trains wearing down my last nerve, the ever-present sour smell from the oil refinery, the brooding, suspicious people, the endless stream of hunters.
There were times when I was terribly lonely, when I wanted nothing more than a companion with which to go hiking or camping or visit nearby tourist attractions. I butted heads with landowners, bit my tongue in the office, forced myself to appear neutral in the face of competing interests. There were countless times in the field when I wasn't sure where I was going, when I got lost or turned around. There were times I'd drive into places not knowing whether I'd be able to get out.
I drove on washed out roads and into narrow, steep canyons. I climbed up and down canyon walls and the nearly vertical edges of crumbling drainages. I fought with broken posts and rusty barbed wire. I trespassed far more times than I would have liked. I slipped across hills, slid into ravines, jumped across creeks, and received more than a few cuts and bruises from meeting up unexpectedly with stumps, rocks, and yes, even the ground.
So... why do I feel like I've lost something?
Perhaps because, in the end, the internship represented a lot more than the sum of its negative parts.
Wyoming is gorgeous. Take away the fencing, the train tracks, the highways, get rid of the cattle, the hunters, the far-right-wing, anti-environment, hostile landowners, the oil and gas rigs, the weathered, beaten-down farmhouses... and what's left is incredible. Stunning. Endless stretches of fragrant sage... hundreds of species of flowers, each week a new one blossoming... towering, ancient cottonwoods. Groves of spruce and ponderosa pine...tracts of quaking aspen.... miles of canyon bottoms laced with grasses and gentle rays of sunshine. Every time I hiked off somewhere and dropped out of sight of the man-made world, I felt completely at ease, almost deliriously happy.
There were good people, too. Ally, who willingly works for the BLM full-time. Neela, who runs the Weston County Humane Society. Amanda, who came to walk the dogs there nearly every single day. Steve and Bob Carter, whom I visited with several times. David, who doesn't own a phone but was more than happy to show me around his property when it came time for me to trespass there. The Mills, who unlocked gates for me more than once. Paul, who was always grateful when I gave him a courtesy call. Ed , an absentee landowner who called me once from Iowa to warn me of a particularly temperamental bull on his property. Perino, Christensen, Simmons, and Popham, graciously giving their permission for me to traipse out on their land every week to look for grouse. Oil Roustabout Guy, who I often ran into and chatted with on Fridays when driving out to find 45. And of course, Russell Davis, who very nearly restored my faith in humanity.
And, aside from the people I met and the nuances of my job is this: my five months in Wyoming provided me a great deal more responsibility, flexibility, independence, and freedom than I've ever had. I spent nearly half a year entirely on my own. I saw things that most people will likely never see, drove on roads most people will never drive, traveled to areas few people have ever traveled.
As I made the drive back home, rain lashing down on my windshield, I surprised myself by thinking wistfully of the places I'd visited over the course of the summer... roads I'd taken, creeks I'd crossed, hills I'd summited, drainages I'd followed... places where the radio signal for NPR was good... places where the radio signal for NPR was bad...places I'd found my grouse... places I'd stopped just to be... places where I wondered "WTF am I doing out here?"... places where I'd never felt better. And as I thought back over everything I'd done and everything I'd seen and everything I'd felt and every place I'd been, I found myself wondering, just what kind of day has it been?
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Another Week in Nowhereville
Back from the Grand Canyon.
A week's worth of forests, gorgeous views, and a group of people my own age. Not only was it nice to get away from Newcastle and spend time in a national park, it was good to hear the other employee's opinions of the BLM, their own field offices, bosses, and duties. I am in no way alone in having suffered the agonies of waiting for the government to get things done, the strangeness of small towns in rural places, or even dealing with being the only 20-something person for miles.
I met a few people I got along with really well, from field offices in Buffalo, WY, Needles, CA, and Carson City, NV. We spent the week sharing stories about our respective offices, complaining about the BLM, and not paying attention to the various seminars we had to attend. We were well-fed, housed individually in hotel rooms bigger than my apartment, and had enough time at the end of each day to hike along the canyon rim and explore. We saw wild-born California Condors and heard stories about strange disappearances, tragic deaths, and unsolved mysteries of the canyon. All-in-all, it was a pretty good free trip. If you've never been to the Canyon, I highly recommend you add it to your list of places to see before you die.
Now, this week, it's back to the grindstone. When I returned, Dwayne provided me with the "official" list of things I'm to complete before the end of October. I haven't yet decided if the list is too little or too much. I suppose only time will tell. This week was much the same as the week before I left for AZ... goshawk surveys, goshawk surveys, and more goshawk surveys. Maybe someday I'll finish the goshawk surveys. It does get a little repetitive. I did, however, start doing passive bat surveys, setting out some fancy-schmancy equipment that recognizes and records bat echolocation. The recorded calls can later be analyzed to determine the types of bats and their activity patterns in a certain area.
This week has been so routine that despite the fact that I've just returned from the 7th natural wonder of the world, I feel I have very little to say. The good news, perhaps, is that the next three weeks will be a little different for me. The BLM field office in Newcastle has a partnership with the middle school in Upton, our closest neighboring town (about 30 miles west of here). Every summer for three weeks in July, the BLM here hosts three small groups of middle school students, each for a week at a time. The students camp out in the black hills, learn about land and resource management, and interact with various BLM officials. Strangely enough, the wildlife portion of these sessions has fallen on me.
So, each Tuesday and Wednesday for the next three weeks, I'll be joining middle school students in the black hills to try and teach them something about wildlife. Tuesday evenings I'll be leading active bat surveys, and on Wednesday mornings bird watching, beaver ponds, animal tracks, squirrel middens, and anything else I might find that won't be completely uninteresting to a group of 11 to 14-year-olds. If nothing else, it should be a nice break from goshawk surveys.
Tomorrow is sage-grouse Friday. Hopefully the new batteries will perform well and I'll actually be able to find them this time!
My big plans for this weekend? I'll probably see Ice Age 3, walk dogs at the humane society (more on that later), and replace the screen in my bedroom window so I can run a window fan at night (and therefore -hopefully- be able to sleep past 4:00 AM without roasting). Thrilling, eh?
I did take a few decent pictures of the Grand Canyon. If you're interested in seeing them, please feel free to visit www.flickr.com/photos/jaxzwolf!
A week's worth of forests, gorgeous views, and a group of people my own age. Not only was it nice to get away from Newcastle and spend time in a national park, it was good to hear the other employee's opinions of the BLM, their own field offices, bosses, and duties. I am in no way alone in having suffered the agonies of waiting for the government to get things done, the strangeness of small towns in rural places, or even dealing with being the only 20-something person for miles.
I met a few people I got along with really well, from field offices in Buffalo, WY, Needles, CA, and Carson City, NV. We spent the week sharing stories about our respective offices, complaining about the BLM, and not paying attention to the various seminars we had to attend. We were well-fed, housed individually in hotel rooms bigger than my apartment, and had enough time at the end of each day to hike along the canyon rim and explore. We saw wild-born California Condors and heard stories about strange disappearances, tragic deaths, and unsolved mysteries of the canyon. All-in-all, it was a pretty good free trip. If you've never been to the Canyon, I highly recommend you add it to your list of places to see before you die.
Now, this week, it's back to the grindstone. When I returned, Dwayne provided me with the "official" list of things I'm to complete before the end of October. I haven't yet decided if the list is too little or too much. I suppose only time will tell. This week was much the same as the week before I left for AZ... goshawk surveys, goshawk surveys, and more goshawk surveys. Maybe someday I'll finish the goshawk surveys. It does get a little repetitive. I did, however, start doing passive bat surveys, setting out some fancy-schmancy equipment that recognizes and records bat echolocation. The recorded calls can later be analyzed to determine the types of bats and their activity patterns in a certain area.
This week has been so routine that despite the fact that I've just returned from the 7th natural wonder of the world, I feel I have very little to say. The good news, perhaps, is that the next three weeks will be a little different for me. The BLM field office in Newcastle has a partnership with the middle school in Upton, our closest neighboring town (about 30 miles west of here). Every summer for three weeks in July, the BLM here hosts three small groups of middle school students, each for a week at a time. The students camp out in the black hills, learn about land and resource management, and interact with various BLM officials. Strangely enough, the wildlife portion of these sessions has fallen on me.
So, each Tuesday and Wednesday for the next three weeks, I'll be joining middle school students in the black hills to try and teach them something about wildlife. Tuesday evenings I'll be leading active bat surveys, and on Wednesday mornings bird watching, beaver ponds, animal tracks, squirrel middens, and anything else I might find that won't be completely uninteresting to a group of 11 to 14-year-olds. If nothing else, it should be a nice break from goshawk surveys.
Tomorrow is sage-grouse Friday. Hopefully the new batteries will perform well and I'll actually be able to find them this time!
My big plans for this weekend? I'll probably see Ice Age 3, walk dogs at the humane society (more on that later), and replace the screen in my bedroom window so I can run a window fan at night (and therefore -hopefully- be able to sleep past 4:00 AM without roasting). Thrilling, eh?
I did take a few decent pictures of the Grand Canyon. If you're interested in seeing them, please feel free to visit www.flickr.com/photos/jaxzwolf!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Off to AZ...
Today I took the day off. One of the best things about the BLM is a system called "MaxFlex." Essentially, every hour worked past eight hours in a single day can be accrued and later used as time off. For example, I could work ten-hour days Monday through Thursday and then take Friday off. I haven't been working ten-hour days, but most days I do work 8.5 or 9. So today I decided not to go to work, and instead to do laundry, visit the humane society, and run errands.
This evening I'm headed to Buffalo, WY to meet up with some other people that work in the BLM field office there. Then tomorrow morning we're all headed down to Grand Canyon National Park in AZ for a week-long training seminar. It will be hot, and probably boring, but maybe... just maybe I'll get to see a Kaibab Squirrel!
Needless to say, it won't be until after the 4th before I'll be able to post again. I hope you all are doing well, and enjoy the upcoming holiday!
This evening I'm headed to Buffalo, WY to meet up with some other people that work in the BLM field office there. Then tomorrow morning we're all headed down to Grand Canyon National Park in AZ for a week-long training seminar. It will be hot, and probably boring, but maybe... just maybe I'll get to see a Kaibab Squirrel!
Needless to say, it won't be until after the 4th before I'll be able to post again. I hope you all are doing well, and enjoy the upcoming holiday!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Finally, some fieldwork!
So, after nearly three weeks of waiting, I finally caught a break. Late last week someone tracked down hard copies of the two training sessions I needed to get off the ground, including defensive driving. Which meant I was finally able to get out into the field. And as I understand it, I'll be out doing fieldwork every day now until the internship ends. Dwayne has a long list of things for me to do, most of which is either bird- or vegetation-related. Not the ideal study subjects, but it's fieldwork and I'm getting paid for it, so I'm not going to complain. Perhaps I can convince Dwayne to start focusing on some mammals. Old logging accounts from the 50's and 60's suggest that there may be flying squirrels in this area!
On the list to occupy my time for the next four months? Surveys for Northern Goshawk, monitoring known raptor nests, inventories of vegetation in both Black Hills National Forest and Thunder Basin National Grassland, and tracking Greater Sage-Grouse. Like I said, I'm going to have to work up an argument for some sort of mammal survey.
This weekend my mom and stepdad came up to visit. Question: What is the best part about northeastern Wyoming? Answer: South Dakota. We packed a lot into two days. Saturday we left Newcastle and saw Mount Rushmore (not all it's cracked up to be), drove to Wall (home of the famous Wall Drug- definitely worth a visit if you're ever in the area), through Badlands National Park, back to Rapid City, then through Custer State Park before returning back to Newcastle. I'll have to post some pictures of the Badlands in the next few days. It's a desolate area, but absolutely gorgeous. Sunday we drove to Spearfish where the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service runs a fish hatchery. It may not sound like much, but I had a lot of fun! I have to admit that I was probably more tired at the end of the weekend than I was before it started, but I was really glad to have someone up here to spend time with.
Then on Monday I started my marathon summer of time in the field. Dwayne's wife had their fourth child on Monday afternoon, so Dwayne is officially on leave and unavailable to answer questions. Monday morning I took the government-owned Durango, a stack of maps, a compass, and a surprisingly complex GPS unit and drove into the Black Hills to start goshawk surveys. I'll admit that I didn't have a great time on Monday. I'm completely unfamiliar with the field office, had no idea where I was going, and was a little unsure about data collection. Additionally, it's been nearly a year since I've done intense fieldwork, and I'm definitely not in proper physical shape. I usually have an excellent sense of direction and an even stronger visual memory, but Monday I kept getting turned around, and was sure I was going to go down a bad road and end up backing into a tree or getting stuck somewhere.... not a great move to make on my first time out on my own in a federal vehicle.
Luckily no such thing happened, and I've since been getting faster and feeling better. It won't be long now before I have a well-developed farmer's tan, raccoon face (from my sunglasses), a lot more freckles, and the ability to hike up and down hills for 10 or 12 miles a day without having to stop every ten minutes to catch my breath.
I think I made decent progress with the goshawk surveys over the last three days. Although I've yet to find any goshawk, I've covered 30 of the 100 survey locations Dwayne has laid out. I need a change of pace, though. On the agenda for tomorrow? Tracking sage-grouse!
On the list to occupy my time for the next four months? Surveys for Northern Goshawk, monitoring known raptor nests, inventories of vegetation in both Black Hills National Forest and Thunder Basin National Grassland, and tracking Greater Sage-Grouse. Like I said, I'm going to have to work up an argument for some sort of mammal survey.
This weekend my mom and stepdad came up to visit. Question: What is the best part about northeastern Wyoming? Answer: South Dakota. We packed a lot into two days. Saturday we left Newcastle and saw Mount Rushmore (not all it's cracked up to be), drove to Wall (home of the famous Wall Drug- definitely worth a visit if you're ever in the area), through Badlands National Park, back to Rapid City, then through Custer State Park before returning back to Newcastle. I'll have to post some pictures of the Badlands in the next few days. It's a desolate area, but absolutely gorgeous. Sunday we drove to Spearfish where the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service runs a fish hatchery. It may not sound like much, but I had a lot of fun! I have to admit that I was probably more tired at the end of the weekend than I was before it started, but I was really glad to have someone up here to spend time with.
Then on Monday I started my marathon summer of time in the field. Dwayne's wife had their fourth child on Monday afternoon, so Dwayne is officially on leave and unavailable to answer questions. Monday morning I took the government-owned Durango, a stack of maps, a compass, and a surprisingly complex GPS unit and drove into the Black Hills to start goshawk surveys. I'll admit that I didn't have a great time on Monday. I'm completely unfamiliar with the field office, had no idea where I was going, and was a little unsure about data collection. Additionally, it's been nearly a year since I've done intense fieldwork, and I'm definitely not in proper physical shape. I usually have an excellent sense of direction and an even stronger visual memory, but Monday I kept getting turned around, and was sure I was going to go down a bad road and end up backing into a tree or getting stuck somewhere.... not a great move to make on my first time out on my own in a federal vehicle.
Luckily no such thing happened, and I've since been getting faster and feeling better. It won't be long now before I have a well-developed farmer's tan, raccoon face (from my sunglasses), a lot more freckles, and the ability to hike up and down hills for 10 or 12 miles a day without having to stop every ten minutes to catch my breath.
I think I made decent progress with the goshawk surveys over the last three days. Although I've yet to find any goshawk, I've covered 30 of the 100 survey locations Dwayne has laid out. I need a change of pace, though. On the agenda for tomorrow? Tracking sage-grouse!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Welcome to the BLM
Lesson for the week: The government is slow. They make an art of red tape, bureaucracy, chains of command, approvals of approvals that were previously approved by someone whose entire job it is to approve of things. As a result, I've just finished my second week of work at the BLM and still have yet to do... anything. Really. I can't do any field work until I can drive a government vehicle, I can't drive a government vehicle until I am "trained" in defensive driving, I can't get training in defensive driving until I'm registered online at the National Training Office, and I can't register online at the National Training Office until someone- that's right!- approves of it. Which, by the way, might take up to four weeks. From yesterday.
I was hired for this position more than two months ago, turned in my paperwork barely a month after that, and here I am twiddling my thumbs for eight hours a day because someone somewhere can't get around to giving my name the go-ahead for a simple activation of an online account. Needless to say, my frustration meter has nearly peaked this week.
That aside, this is where I work. The deer isn't always there. It just happened to be crossing the street when drove by. I usually park in front of the tree. You know... just in case you were wondering.
The offices make a circular-ish shape around a small area in front where there is a receptionist's desk and a broom-closet sized room containing public information. The offices (and everything else, for that matter) are only accesible by key and/or code. Evidently, they really take security at the Newcastle BLM seriously.
My desk is on the eastern side of the building. If you look in the picture, I sit directly between the two windows on the far right side of the office. As an intern, I do not get a window at my desk. Windows are only for the 'real' employees.
My boss is "Dwayne," the critter coordinator at the Newcastle Field Office. His supervisor is the field manager of the office, "Tulip." So, technically, she's my actual boss, but I take direction from Dwayne. Dwayne is.... well, he's something else. Early thirties, about my height, egg-shaped head, buzz cut, balding, thick glasses, and starting to put on a little weight. That kid you used to know back in high school or junior high that was really nerdy, wore highwaters, hung out with the computer geeks, but always tried to act like he fit in by talking about football and frequently using the phrases "That is so awesome!" and "Man that is so cool!"? Imagine that kid as being thirty-something, and you'll basically have Dwayne.
He's a really nice guy, and I know he cares about the work he's doing. He's married, has three kids, and he and his wife are expecting a fourth any day now. Which compounds my "lagard nature of the BLM" dilemma. See, Dwayne has to show me everything he wants me to work on in the field before he goes on paternity leave. Unlike many people, he sees his wife's pregnancy as a tour of active duty, and plans on taking quite a bit of time off when the kid is actually born. If I don't get driver certification before his wife goes into labor, then I may very well be stuck in the office for two weeks doing exactly what I've been doing for the last two weeks- a whole bunch of nothing. Then, when I finally do get started, I'll have four months in the field to do five months-worth of work.
So please, keep your fingers crossed that something positive will happen this coming week. I'm really tiring of the disappointments. And the waiting. That too.
I was hired for this position more than two months ago, turned in my paperwork barely a month after that, and here I am twiddling my thumbs for eight hours a day because someone somewhere can't get around to giving my name the go-ahead for a simple activation of an online account. Needless to say, my frustration meter has nearly peaked this week.
That aside, this is where I work. The deer isn't always there. It just happened to be crossing the street when drove by. I usually park in front of the tree. You know... just in case you were wondering.The offices make a circular-ish shape around a small area in front where there is a receptionist's desk and a broom-closet sized room containing public information. The offices (and everything else, for that matter) are only accesible by key and/or code. Evidently, they really take security at the Newcastle BLM seriously.
My desk is on the eastern side of the building. If you look in the picture, I sit directly between the two windows on the far right side of the office. As an intern, I do not get a window at my desk. Windows are only for the 'real' employees.
My boss is "Dwayne," the critter coordinator at the Newcastle Field Office. His supervisor is the field manager of the office, "Tulip." So, technically, she's my actual boss, but I take direction from Dwayne. Dwayne is.... well, he's something else. Early thirties, about my height, egg-shaped head, buzz cut, balding, thick glasses, and starting to put on a little weight. That kid you used to know back in high school or junior high that was really nerdy, wore highwaters, hung out with the computer geeks, but always tried to act like he fit in by talking about football and frequently using the phrases "That is so awesome!" and "Man that is so cool!"? Imagine that kid as being thirty-something, and you'll basically have Dwayne.
He's a really nice guy, and I know he cares about the work he's doing. He's married, has three kids, and he and his wife are expecting a fourth any day now. Which compounds my "lagard nature of the BLM" dilemma. See, Dwayne has to show me everything he wants me to work on in the field before he goes on paternity leave. Unlike many people, he sees his wife's pregnancy as a tour of active duty, and plans on taking quite a bit of time off when the kid is actually born. If I don't get driver certification before his wife goes into labor, then I may very well be stuck in the office for two weeks doing exactly what I've been doing for the last two weeks- a whole bunch of nothing. Then, when I finally do get started, I'll have four months in the field to do five months-worth of work.
So please, keep your fingers crossed that something positive will happen this coming week. I'm really tiring of the disappointments. And the waiting. That too.
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