The happy anachronism: a fishing blog

Palo Duro Canyon, Texas; 30 years after my first visit

2012-02-04T19:18:00.000-08:00

The Texas Panhandle. Bleak. Flat. Sterile. Except for Palo Duro Canyon.

Over 30 years ago the family's old yellow station wagon pulled up to the brink of Palo Duro Canyon on the way to a vacation in Colorado. We watched the lightning tear across the sky and hoped the tornadoes would stay at bay.

The next morning I learned a valuable lesson about listening. Following a box canyon reaching back into the larger canyon walls, I managed to find a group of mule deer by following the sound of their hooves. I never got a decent picture, but I was happy to get close. It was another lesson in the rewards of paying close attention.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of returning to Palo Duro Canyon. It was crowded for a brisk February day, but it has changed little otherwise.

One welcome change was the presence of wild turkey there now in abundance. Wild turkeys have experienced a profound recovery from near extinction levels prior to the the mid-70s. Give them a bit of cover, water, and management they flourish in places like Palo Duro now.

This gold fronted woodpecker (Melanerpes aurifron) decided to pose nicely beside its' nest cavity long enough for a photograph.

And although there are still robins further north this time of year, I suspect these had been pushed south by the snow storm currently tearing up the high plains in Colorado and Kansas. These, along with many others, had congregated to drink.

Notice the pile of sediment on the bank behind them...a stark reminder that canyons are really no more than huge erosion sites. Evidence of earth moving equipment at all the stream crossings showed how mightily the park struggles to keep the sediment off their roadways.

The deer are still here. This one seems to be a white tailed deer. As in many state parks, this little herd has no memory of being hunted and had almost no fear of me.

I walked toward them from a far distance and they knew I was there the last 50 yards or more...much easier to photograph than the group I stalked in the mid-70s.

And even in that tiny scrap of river, there were still beaver. It is hard to imagine how they survived the drought last summer but apparently they did. There must not have been enough predators in the area to thin them out when the water was low.

Recent rains have put a bit of a dent in recent drought conditions. The local reservoirs are still low but the soil is moist and the river was high.

The thing I remember most about Palo Duro was the geologic candy-cane striping of red and white. Red permian soil alternates with layers of gypsum. Some of it formed broad bold bands...

...and some of it was laid in smaller, finer stripes.

The Jocelyn is fond of textures so I suppose I took this picture for her sake. It seems the ripples of the water have forced themselves into the rock here.These are the same red colors that enter the Red River that flows through my home town of Shreveport. The same red clay and rock eroding away and filling the flood plains downstream.

It was good to visit the site of an old memory again. I hope the next trip does not have to wait another 30 years.

Evolving

2012-01-29T14:42:00.000-08:00

The Anachronism is evolving.

Gain and loss and hope and fear are never so close to the surface as in the midst of transition. Change reminds of the importance of an essential core. Values. Purpose. Direction.

There is an idea out there that evolution improves life. That it perfects. This is a misconception. Evolution merely allows survival. Underlying realities never change. Biology merely arranges itself around the physics.

A good friend recently commented that sweeping change in their lives has led them to throw out their values. Yet they still choose generosity over envy, and kindness over competition. They care about others and give of themselves. Perhaps they have become disillusioned with certain people, institutions, and behavioral expectations. Some bridges may have been burned. But expectations aren't values. My friend has adapted to change. Their values are intact.

New contracts in education and new kinds of certification work are diversifying the portfolio and bringing with it the mixed blessing of travel. Roadside breaks looking for fossils have been productive and it has been good to see old friends and family.

Change is coming. Values remain.

Day before the snow hits: Prairie dogs and something new

2012-01-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

Snow is falling in Denver today. Before it hit, I took an afternoon at Roxborough to see how the animals were faring and preparing. A quick swing through the Sharptail Open Area revealed the prairie dogs were out in force.

None of them seemed especially pleased to see me slow down and photograph them. The alarm callers raised quite a racket.

Even the rabbits interspersed among the burrows lit out for their holes and just about everyone seemed prepared to duck and cover. Given that there were no prairie dogs on the side of the road where there were cattle, it's pretty clear these guys periodically have reasons to watch their backs.

Inside the park, the mule deer were scattered and hard to find. This pair wandered casually across a road as joggers and traffic came by.

This mouse seems to be weaving a rather drunken path home. Perhaps he was out celebrating that the coyotes had given up on the crusted snow and left them alone?

...and high on a ridgetop this track appeared. Much smaller than the normal mountain lions in the park, it also doesn't seem quite right for a canid. ~~A yearling mountain lion, perhaps? For now I'm witholding judgment.~~ Having had a chance to reflect and compare this appears to be a very large coyote print. It does seem odd there were no deer here. They have been in this spot every time I've been through so far this winter. Were they scared out and scattered? ~~The park rangers have photographic evidence that a breeding pair lives inside the park. Perhaps they were successful this year?~~

I still haven't found mule deer kills and I still have no direct visual contact with the cats.

We'll see what the future brings.

Roxborough wildlife: sun and snow and dogs and cats

2012-01-08T16:10:00.000-08:00

Last night dropped about three inches of snow and made for a great hike at Roxborough State Park today. In a three mile hike we found three different sets of mountain lion tracks (that may have been from a single active cat), multiple coyotes and mule deer. Warm days immediately after a snow are turning out to be the best times to find wildlife.

The track above was a favorite as you can see where the mountain lion pressed that little twig down into the ground with it's paw.

The mule deer were concentrated in the Window Valley.

The coyotes were in the plains, standing in high grass pressed down by the snow. Presumably they were looking for mice and rodents.

Even the scrub jays were willing to pose.

The animal tracks were everywhere. I can't wait to see what we find next.

Pacific Northwest Holidays Outdoors: Rainfest 2011

2012-01-06T14:42:00.000-08:00

The trip to the Puget Sound area to see The Jocelyn and The Brother's family for Christmas was phenomenally good. Despite the almost constant rain and the scarcity of vistas like the one of the Olympic Mountain Range above, we were able to get outside a bit. Special thanks to The Jocelyn for some of these pictures, to The Jocelyn's Father and Mother for the use of his telephoto lens and for their warm hospitality, to The Son for being willing to travel with The Daughter across country over the holidays, to the Brother and his family for being such gracious hosts.

With the rain coming almost continually, the outings into the woods had to come in short hikes during the slow periods. Burfoot Park in Olympia has a nice stand of Douglas Fir and Western Cedar against far southern Puget Sound. These mushrooms were enjoying the moisture.

The first trip into the park we encountered what appears to be a sooty grouse. Not often encountered in Burfoot, this one was relatively easy to photograph. As with most of the camera work here, a little more light would have been welcome.

A visit to MacLean Creek south of Olympia took us to the wetlands. A first trial of the 300mm telephoto lens was a bit challenging in terms of finding the correct plane of focus, but a few of the shots there turned out reasonably well. The mallards were thick and slow enough to photograph. The winter wrens that were attracted by the recorded calls on The Jocelyn Dads's Ipod were a bit too quick.

The chum salmon run in the creek was pretty easy to find as well. The live run had lasted into mid-December. The carcasses were well on their way back into the food chain. Marine nutrients from sea run salmon are important drivers for coastal rivers like MacLean Creek.

The daughter had been promised bald eagles on this trip and it was not hard to deliver. They were just about everywhere and at Nisqually Delta we were able to find a juvenile close enought to photograph and some adults that were impressive through the spotting scope.

This great blue heron let us get close enough for a nice series of photos.

The daughter's main christmas present was a microscope which, frankly, kicked ass. Maybe I'll be done playing with it some time next year and she can have a turn.

Seriously. We got serveral sincere "wows" out of her and I think the scientific fires are stoked. We'll do more with this soon.

Of course, cool things under the scope require cool collecting trips. A local dock near Olympia was replete with cool creatures stuck to the pilings.

...including the fearsome 12 armed starfish.

And the delightfully crimson but otherwise feckless arrow crab, along with sea anemone, moon jelly fish (looking EXACTLY like the ones in Belize) and a cluster of edible mussels....bearing all sorts of bizarre little creatures from rotifers to diatoms to I'm not sure exactly what in the spaces between their shells.

After the dip into Olympia it was off to Seattle, complete with a very soggy trip into Olympic National Park in the pouring rain. If you are going to experience the Olympic Peninsula, the pouring rain is probably the most authentic way to do that (given that it has about 60 days of sunshine per year), but it was quite a soggy ride. Hot chocolate on the ferry from Bremerton to Seattle warmed away the last damp corners before descending on The Brother's home.

Once in Seattle we all managed to take in the Seattle Aquarium, including the mini-fish hatchery and fish ladder leading down into the waterfront. The Chinook salmon smolts above were just about primed for their descent to the sea, but we didn't get to watch their release.

We did, however, get to see the giant octopus clambering around it's cylindrical (and therefore relatively unphotographable) tank. Very impressive, as were the sea otters the large Pacific Northwest tank in the lobby.

After that we were off to Skonomish Pass and the snow park there. There is little snow immediately around Puget Sound, but the surrounding mountains get more than their share. Which of course is great fodder for...

...snowball fights....

....sledding...

...and snow structures.

Pacific Northwest Washout

2012-01-03T10:06:00.000-08:00

The holiday trip to Seattle and Olympia was quite a pleasure but as often happens in the Pacific Northwest, the rain was out in force. I'll post a more detailed account of some of the outdoor activities there soon. In the meantime, the picture above from Olympic National Park should provide an adequate illustration of why there was no fishing.

Nominations for 2011 Anachronistic Fish of the Year

2011-12-20T11:47:00.000-08:00

I have tried to name a "fish of the year" to commemorate meaningful fish or events every year since I began taking my son fishing many years ago. There have been a few gaps in the record (2010 being one), but I've managed to accrue a fairly long list. These include my first 20" smallmouth bass, but also a juvenile scrawled boxfish from Placencia Lagoon that for all the world resembled a pea with fins, a particularly adventurous bear (entering a bathroom at Yosemite National Park) or others.

This year's list of nominees is short and sweet.

First greenback trout. http://brooksmith.blogspot.com/2011/10/greenback-trout-elk-and-estes-park.html
The Daughter's first Colorado trout. http://brooksmith.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html
The Jocelyn's first Colorado trout. http://brooksmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/brooksmith-brook-trout-ladies-have.html
Seagrass returning to Placencia Lagoon after a long campaign to restore it. http://brooksmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/face-of-recovery.html

Pre-Christmas Leaky Waderfest: contemplations of a skinflint

2011-12-19T10:07:00.000-08:00

A warm(er) day on a Sunday was enough to entice the Jocelyn and myself up the hill to try another round of nymphing. We drew a blank, but we did learn a bit.

First of all, we learned that a lot of people in Colorado who should probably know better appear to be willing to stand in a freezing river a week before Christmas. Up to now I've avoided the "Gold-medal" streams and their crowds. We hoped that the winter season would clear them out yesterday. Nope. They're still there. We managed to find an empty reach with habitat, but it did take a while...even with Tim Tebow leading the Broncos against the Patriots just down the hill back in town.

Secondly, we still suck at flycasting. We will eventually have to remedy this with more time on the water and a guide. But that will have to wait because...

...thirdly, I am cheap. Part of that stems from being poor. Another part stems from being so hard on equipment that I know I will eventually break it. Regardless of whatever the additional quality and durability I've paid for I generally find a way to break things. Marketers, feel free to send more free merchandise to convince me otherwise, but until something proves its worth I'm never going to be the type to shovel money at equipment.

Gearing up for Colorado flyfishing was a relatively simple process. Drag the remnant detritus of 30 years of half-hearted half-measures out of the garage, shove it across the desk a Dan's Fly Shop in Gunnison and say "Fix it, please".

One cheap fly reel a few tippets and line and flies later I was out the door and fishing for less than 150 bucks. The Simms vest had already been put to good use for about a decade of smallmouth stream fishing. I doubt I'll ever buy another one. The waders are probably a couple of years beyond their useful life and have doubled their weight in seam sealant. The 6 wt rod, selected for its versatility and the potential to handle larger fish if necessary, has a new tip and works fine...or it would if I knew what I was doing. The Okuma reel...well...yesterday the faceplate fell of it in midstream. Although it was easily repaired I was not amused to have to perform that maneuver in that situation. Okuma, you have earned a disgruntled fist shake from the Happy Anachronism. Don't do that to me again.

Standing for a couple of hours in a mountain stream in mid-December with your boot full of freezing river water was also enough to force some reconsideration of the wader situation. Either I'm going to have to purchase another gallon of sealant or the Jocelyn is going to have to give back the neoprenes and find a pair of her own.

And I suppose I would be remiss if I did not mention that the fancy shmancy RedRam merino wool thermal underwear are still performing well. Despite their light weight build, they're standing up to repeated washings and they have proven to be a reliably warm. Even soaked with river water yesterday, my legs stayed comfortable (my foot lost all feeling and turned purple, but the legs under the RedRam...very toasty). Are they worth their 50 dollar list price? They will be if they last the season. Stay tuned.

When finances allow I'll have to reconsider some gear investments. If any of those can help me mend line, cast further, or avoid wind knots, the extra bucks may be warranted.

In the meantime there are other priorities and I see sealant in my future.

Anachronism out.

QMP5SGJCV9AA

B.A.S.S. supports climate change adaptation bill

2011-12-17T14:19:00.000-08:00

In a sign that the ice is starting to melt on the polar ice cap of brain frozen logic that has left much of the fishing and conservation community sitting on the sidelines in the climate change debate, B.A.S.S. and 10 other mainline hunting and fishing conversation groups have finally weighed in supporting climate change adaptation legislation to conserve high quality hunting and fishing opportunities.

http://www.trcp.org/assets/pdf/S1881_Support.pdf

The Safeguarding America's Future and Environment bill (S.A.F.E Act or S. 1881) requires states to create plans to deal with the effects of climate change and ensure the long term viability of natural resources with the best available science.

Effects of climate change for U.S. recreational fisheries include loss of cold water habitat, changes in severity and frequency of flood pulse, lost or variation in ground water recharge, shifts in competitive advantage within marine, estuarine, stream and lake communities and more.

Climate change "adaptation" are steps that are taken to protect against the effects of climate change. WWF often refers to them as "no regrets" solutions because they are often things that needed to be done anyway. Adaptation strategies don't try to address causes or contentious political issues such as carbon trading (although that will eventually need to happen as well), they protect against the effects of changing climate. Climate change adaptation might include such things as protecting water quality, riparian vegetation, ground water, and flood storage.

How gratifying to finally see some movement on this issue.

Many thanks to The Wildlife Management Institute, Pheasants Forever, Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, Izaak Walton League of America, The Wildlife Society, Association of Fish and Wildlife Agencies, the American Fisheries Society, B.A.S.S., Quail Unlimited, and the American Sportfish Association.

More snow tracking at Roxborough: how good are your tracking skills?

2011-12-08T22:06:00.001-08:00

Just adding a few photos from recent trips to Roxborough since the recent snows.

Above: There are some serious air quality issues in Denver. Looking from the outside in can be a bit daunting sometimes.

Left: Big mule deer buck heading toward bed at dusk.

Moon rising over the south rim of the park and mule deer.

~~I guess you would call this prancing~~. Upon further review, apparently this is "stotting". I thought the back had to be arched and the motion was more arching but the formal definition only includes running with all 4 feet off the ground and the height or shape of the body doesn't matter. Stotting is also done during play and when escaping predators that can easily be evaded (which in this case was apparently me...at least in this mule deer's head). This little buck only had one antler...a common trait among smaller deer in the park.

A yearling navigates the deepening snow.

Bailing out on the photo session.

Two bucks and a doe browsing the bushes.

New corners of the park still to be explored....

Roxborough is on the far eastern edge of the Colorado Front Range, where the spine of North America breaks through the mantle of the earth and erupts from the ground.

Sedimentary rock along the edge of the Front Range is colorful, rugged, and rich in fossils.

The next three photos include a coyote, mountain lion and bobcat. Do you know which are which?

Teleost, Teleology, Idiot, Ideology; A year of newbing Colorado fly fishing

2011-12-07T12:59:00.001-08:00

Teleost: (from the Greek “teleos”, meaning end, or completion) the bony fishes, the lowest taxonomic order with a complete skeleton

I have once again taken fly rod to hand. God have mercy on my soul.

On the list of ways I could avoid catching fish, fly fishing must sit near the top. During a first year on the Front Range of Colorado I somehow managed to catch rainbow, brown, brook, and greenback trout...

…in an inefficient jumble of wind knots and back-casting disasters that would have reduced the average Paleolithic hunter-gatherer to tears of frustration.

For an angler prone to navel gazing and much more fond of “catching” than “fishing”, deep thoughts have been close at hand this year. Who could possibly want to mount this ridiculous learning curve? What microscope am I going to use to tie these tiny on lures onto my tippet? Where can I find an empty football field beside a river to accommodate my backcast? When will I not suck at this?

Why fly fish? I wonder about these things sometimes. In my own case it probably has to do with cultural heritage. Or insanity. According to the family photo album my time growing up was equally divided between birthday parties and time on the water. That time outdoors eventually translated into a career messing with squishy things in the water (probably insanity). Fly fishing is part of that ~~insanity~~ heritage. The 10-2, 10-2, 10-2 fly casting motion I brushed off this summer reconnected with rhythms remembered from first learning to cast on the back lawn when I was a boy…

…and the sickening crunch of dad’s split bamboo fly rod folding in half when he set the hook on a rotting snag in Toledo Bend. Good times.

Maybe I’m just following this Colorado crowd into a great big aquatic snipe hunt. Or maybe there’s some higher purpose here.

Teleology: (from the Greek “teleos” meaning end, completion, or perfection, and “ logy” or story) a philosophy that assumes the existence final causes, or a doctrine of divine purpose

Fly fishing unlocks the divine purpose of God (who’s pissed you’re at the river instead of doing something more productive and suspects you’re cheating on Him with some tart of an Eastern religion or dialectical materialism).

Right. However enjoyable it may be, it seems a fundamental mistake to expect fly fishing to save your soul. Realistic expectations seem important. Like this one…

Fly fishing stimulates genes left over from our hunter-gatherer past (sure, why not). The universal excitement elicited by a fish on the line makes it easy to guess we’ve got a genetic connection to fishing at large. We’re alive partly because our ancestors developed a knack for catching and eating high protein sources of food like fish. A hormonal trigger could easily get attached to the process. The drive to feed that hormonal rush was a “carrot” (married to the stick of “stick” of starvation) that kept our deep ancestors focused on things that kept them fed.

Fly fishing is an ~~aggravating~~ enjoyable challenge that promotes our emotional well being. Like football…with fewer concussions and more squishy things.

Idiot: (From the Greek “idios” meaning concerning private things) a person overly preoccupied with personal experience

It doesn’t seem our anachronistic fishing genes get much of a workout these days. The stick just isn’t there (for most of us). With a few exceptions, our survival, well-being, and evolutionary fitness have no connection to our barrel casting or fly tying skills. Recreational fishing has become a domesticated activity.

The modern Davy Crockett is a myth that hasn’t checked the math. With apologies to Hank Williams Jr. and his trot line, a country boy really can’t survive on hunting and fishing…not for long. There are about 7 billion people on the planet, three times more than we had when the 20^th century began and North American fish and game was a greasy spot under the juggernaut of industrialization. You can barely find a river in the lower 48 with a fishery that isn’t propped up by stocking or state and federal regulations. I'm ok with keeping a few in the right context, but if we all decided to go native, how long would it take to eat our way through our inland stocks?

Anders Halverson traces the modern motivations of recreational fishing back to the efforts of George Perkins Marsh, a conservationist and legislator from Vermont ("An Entirely Synthetic Fish"). During the time predating the western myth of rugged individualism, and a Civil War that would chew through over half a million lives, the American populace had become “a more thoughtful but… less bold and spirited nation.” From Marsh’s perspective this decline in martial spirit was directly related to the decline of hunting and fishing and this was related to the loss of fish populations due to pollution and habitat modification in the industrial revolution.

Punta Gorda Junior College students help clean up marine debris of common consumer products washed up on Hunting Caye, Belize.

Maybe Marsh has a point with hunting, but I invite anyone with an interest to explain how learning to time a backcast properly would ever help anyone hunt Al Queda. Seems to me our future soldiers might be better off in the gym or rock climbing or playing drone-strike video games. I’ve never been in the military and so far I also stink as a fly fisher so please feel welcome to point out what I’m missing.

Ideology: (From the Greek “ideos” or idea and “logy” to speak) a comprehensive vision

I fish because I like it. I like a challenge. I like being in the places where it’s possible to reconnect to those old hunter-gatherer genes and maybe experience a little taste of the raw gratitude and admiration that eventually led our ancient ancestors to higher concepts of beauty and spirituality. It’s not a perfect ride. We anglers have a few things yet to learn.

But it’ll do for now.

Anachronism out.

Renting Live Christmas Trees in Olympia: brilliant ways to boost conservation

2011-12-07T09:57:00.001-08:00

I got the note pasted below in the email today.

This is the first time I've seen this approach, and I think it's a brilliant model. Marry conservation to normal activities done by good hearted people and stand back...this could be a huge success.

The dead tree drop offs at local reservoirs are almost always well supported. Imagine how much more can be accomplished with live trees. Salmon and trees are tightly married and riparian restoration walks hand in hand with better fisheries.

I think I'm going to make a couple of phone calls.

Living Holiday Tree Rentals for Restoration!

Want to have a live holiday tree this season and “reuse it” for restoring Puget Sound streams? We have the solution! This season, Stream Team is partnering with Puget Sound Plants to offer you an opportunity to “rent” a live holiday tree that will later be “reused” for restoration.

How does it work? You “rent” (purchase) a live tree (with pot) from Puget Sound Plants for the holiday season. Use the tree indoors or outside for your holiday festivities. After the holidays, drop it off at a designated location by January 6th, 2012. Trees will be kept in a nursery and cared for until they are planted by Stream Team volunteers at nearby restoration sites later this winter or next spring. Replanting trees next to streams provides shade that keep streams cool for salmon and other species of fish and wildlife.

Want to participate? To reserve your live holiday tree, call Puget Sound Plants at (866) 816-5080 and let them know your purchase will be part of the Stream Team Holiday Tree Rental Program. Pick up your tree at Puget Sound Plants during business hours: 8AM to 4:30 PM Monday – Friday. They are located at 3147 46th Av NE, in the South Bay area of Olympia. (If you need alternate arrangements to pick up your tree, please contact Michelle, City of Olympia at 360-753-8336 or mstevie@ci.olympia.wa.us to make arrangements.)

Checking the species list: is that a Guadalupe bass?

2011-12-06T11:39:00.001-08:00

Ok. House cleaning for the species list.

This year I added greenback trout to the life species list.

~~I also need to take one species off.~~ Ok, this post started off as a post about how this isn't a Guadalupe bass...but apparently it is. The problem comes from here, a family vacation in the 70s on the Guadalupe River on the Edwards Plateau of Texas. Thanks to The Sister for digging this out of the family photo archive (an entity I never knew existed until recently).

This fish was one of many that was caught during that particular vacation by bouncing crappie jigs off the bottom in the current breaks behind large boulders. I was unaware of Guadalupe bass at the time but had assumed since then that Guadalupe bass would be the dominant species in that habitat during that time. ~~Unfortunately, that is a spotted bass.~~ ~~Maybe I caught a Guadalupe bass during that trip that didn't have it's picture taken but I think that's not a safe assumption now.~~

Edit: Ok. Now I'm not sure what kind of bass this is. I've just been over to http://diefische.org/ which is replete with pictures of what they feel are Guadalupe bass and this fish matches those to a "T". This is going to take more research. Jay you may be right that this is a Guadalupe bass.

Hybridization between smallmouth and Guadalupe bass have been blamed for the decline of Guadalupe bass. If spotted bass were in that system they may have played a role as well...

...certainly they've done a job on Missouri smallmouth bass.

For now, it appears this fish is exactly what people in Texas are calling Guadalupe bass. So I guess my original assumptions were right?

On the (fish) scales: individual life history tells the story of your fishery

2011-11-30T11:15:00.001-08:00

Fish scales tell the story of the life of individual fish. Most fish species are protected with a thin armor of scales on their bodies. In temperate zones where environmental conditions vary predictably on an annual basis, those structures lay down rings that match the growth of the fish and show seasonal winter stresses. Similar rings can be found in spines, vertebrae and otoliths (ear bones).

By measuring the distance between rings, the annual growth of fish can be measured and their life history from year can be tracked. The process is not entirely straightforward and there is a bit of an art to reading scales. Otoliths are generally considered easier to read but can only be removed by killing the fish that carries them. Scales, in contrast, can easily be removed without harming the fish, and provide reasonably accurate measurements of growth when analyzed by an experienced reader.

The center of the scale is called the "foci" and represents the very early stages of scale growth. The growing edge, shown here at the left, continually adds material to the edge of the scale. When the growth is interrupted during the winter, annular rings or "checks" are formed.

Annual differences in growth reflect the success of fish in a given environment over a given time period. During periods of high physiological stress or low food availability, growth will be slow and rings will be narrow. Under good conditions with adequate food, growth is rapid and rings will be thick.

"Cut-overs" or places where smaller growth rings end along a check, disclose the presence of an annular ring. An annular ring can be seen in the center of the photograph above.

Difficulties such as regrown scales can complicate the analysis of fish growth. The mottled area at the center of this scale shows at what age this scale was lost and forced to regrow. Other problems such as false checks can be problematic as well. Over time these are easily identified and dealt with.

Trout, bass, sunfish, crappie, walleye, pike as well as most temperate marine species...all manner of fish species can be aged in this manner.

If you're interested in knowing about the growth and health of your local fishery, with a few simple steps you can collect scales from fish you normally catch, mail them to me and have them analyzed. Brooksmith Consulting has aged thousands of fish using these techniques and will provide a detailed report about growth trends in your fishery.

Deliverables will include a digital record of aged scales, measurement strips showing the reads (and providing an excellent guide for learning to read scales on your own), comparison to local fisheries, and management recommendations.

Contact me at 720-244-5499 or Timothy@tbrooksmith.com for more details.

Kansas nautilus and oyster reefs: The more things change...

2011-11-29T10:35:00.001-08:00

I have yet to see a Nautilus in the sea. Kansas is a thousand miles from the sea yet the first Nautilus, or at least the first close relative of Nautilus that I've ever found came from there.

After entirely inappropriate amounts of driving, there it sat in a rock among a dense aggregation of fossil bivales on a hill which was once a giant oyster reef in the sea.

It has been interesting over the course of my life to feel the edges of the world come closer and closer together as I experience more of it. Colorado is Illinois is Washington is Kansas is Belize is China is Africa is the world. Very ancient things knit them all together when we have the eyes to see them.

There are no insignificant corners in a very old, very round planet with a memory.

Affordable Fisheries Analysis Offer: how healthy is your fishery?

2011-11-22T06:27:00.001-08:00

For those of you who actively manage a fishery or have wondered about the health of the system you fish, Brooksmith Consulting is offering a service to give you precise, scientific answers to your questions.

How fast to your fish grow? How do they stack up against your regional average? What year classes have contributed to your fishery? Are your prey populations in balance with your predators? Did that management technique you tried last year actually work? Did that environmental impact you were worried about affect the growth of your fish? Are your fish in good condition?

These questions and others can be answered through analysis of hard annular structures on the fish you catch during normal fishing activities. Brooksmith Consulting has aged thousands of fish and has the expertise to evaluate fish age and year to year differences in growth and their demographic consequences within your fish populations. All this without harming your fish and for highly affordable prices.

You can begin a year to year digital data archive of your favorite sport fishery status or track the success of your fishery interventions taking a few simple steps and for prices beginning as low as 100$ or less.

For further information, click on the fisheries analysis offer in the right hand column, email Timothy@tbrooksmith.com or call 720-244-5499.

A perfect Christmas gift for any fish or fishing-obsessed friend or relative.

Pass this one along.

The Belizean Mangrove Conservation Network on Facebook

2011-11-19T09:04:00.001-08:00

If you are watching social media these days you recognize the value of having a potent information network of like-minded people.

The Anachronism has taken full advantage of this emerging media over the past few years. One of the activities and products of Brooksmith Consulting was the creation of the Belizean Mangrove Conservation Network (BMCN). With a membership bearing down on 700 members including prominent political figures, academics, NGOs, and concerned citizens of Belize and beyond. We are currently the largest mangrove conservation page on Facebook.

Supported in part by the World Wildlife Fund, the BMCN strives to keep members abreast of mangrove conservation issues in Belize, provide information about restoration and conservation efforts, and serve as a platform for Belizean coastal conservation at large.

If you are a Facebook user with an interest in these issues, please stop by and join. We'd be glad to have you.

What exactly is a "Happy Anachronism"?

2011-11-15T12:04:00.001-08:00

As used here, a "Happy Anachronism" is a thing embedded in past human experience or biology modified for general usefulness in the modern context.

Recreational fishing and other outdoor sports and activities, although not an especially relevant activity in the grander scheme of things, accomplishes this goal. It links to the echoes of a hunter-gatherer past. It tethers us to our deep history on the earth. It reminds us there is more to life than bank accounts and politics. It gives weight to the need for conservation...

...or so goes the hope.

Merino wool by RedRam: the Anachronism turns underwear model

2011-11-10T08:35:00.001-08:00

I'm glad some people have a sense of humor.

For instance, a couple of months ago, the Anachronism deposited this little gem about marketing.

Allow me to state for the record that I hate marketing. If you are a marketer or you know and admire a marketer, I probably hate you too. If you ever drank from a bottle after a marketer took the first sip, you probably make me sick. If your dog ever took a crap in a marketer's yard and you cleaned it up, I find you to be a morally suspicious individual. (Did I mention that I don't like marketing?).

These gentle feelings toward commercialization so touched the heartstrings of the RedRam thermal underwear marketing department that they contacted me to "try out" (i.e. market) their product.

The RedRam product label says "I am breathable, I am soft, I am natural, I am not stinky, I am warm, I am comfortable, I am I am not itchy, I am sustainable pure merino wool thermal underwear."

I am suspicious (although the concept of self-aware undergarments does arouse me somewhat).

From my Googlations on this product, I have surmised that the Anachronism is one of several outdoor blogs RedRam has contacted in an attempt to lure outdoor practitioners into their pants. These bicyclists, bow hunters, and a few of my fellow fishermen have all been easily seduced. They're raving about how their underwear are light and breathable and keep them warm and make their girlfriends want to grope them. Blah, blah, blah...

The Anachronism sees right through your plots, RedRam marketing department. For instance when I agreed to try your underwear and asked for 20 pairs, you only sent one. I also noticed immediately that "RedRam" backwards is "maRdeR" which is how an illiterate might spell "murder".

Suspicions confirmed.

Let it be known that the Anachronism does not put out on a first date. Underwear, especially thermal underwear, is a very serious issue. The Anachronism will apply similarly serious research to this topic....that is, I would if it ever got cold enough to test the product.

So far, I've worn the RedRam zip neck long sleeve shirt and leggings fly fishing on ice-rimmed lakes in the mountains at 10,000 feet....

....into the year's first blizzard along the Colorado Front Range...

...and on several hikes in the snow.

None of these places were sufficiently wintery to provide an adequate test of the RedRam thermal underwear. I was thoroughly comfortable throughout.

Clearly, global warming is to blame.

Aside from the problems with our unusualy balmy weather, the product was as advertised. Comfortable, light, breathable, soft, not itchy, not stinky (might even have improved the normal ambiance), and attractive...

...very VERY attractive.

I've even ignored the box instructions to air dry the merino wool and dumped them directly into the drier with no ill effects....so far.

Despite my initial impression that you have an excellent product, I am withholding judgement, RedRam Thermal Underwear Marketing Department. Perhaps if you sent me the other 19 pairs in an assortment of sizes and colors suitable for friends and family members before the Christmas holidays, I would be willing to hasten my decision.

In the meantime this little exercise has opened my eyes to my untapped potential as an underwear model.

Does anyone know the address for Victoria's Secret?

Sustainability: Jason Clay and WWF and ecocertification

2011-11-08T08:14:00.000-08:00

This is my boss' boss' boss' boss at the World Wildlife Fund.

If you care about sustainablility and continuing access to clean water and natural resources, this is a "must listen."

A few high points:

We are currently consuming natural resources 30% beyond a sustainable rate.
Given the world-wide growth of economies, by 2050 we will need three times the current amount of natural resources to consume a the rate we currently do.
Those resources aren't available and probably won't become available; consumption (and production) must become more sustainable.
Rather than trying to address the habits of 7 (soon to be 9) billion people or billions of producers, Jason proposes focusing on the 100 companies that control 25% of the good produced in the world (and can influence up to 40% of the additional production).
Third party certifications of products as sustainable can produce this result.

This process forms the rationale for my work with shrimp aquaculture in Belize. Hopefully, in 2012, trial certifications for shrimp aquaculture will begin. Certification is a real world process with messy edges and a learning curve. But I have seen it work in Belize and I can point to clean creeks and sea grass meadows that have been brought back because companies decided to take the ecocertification route.

...looks to me like a pretty good way to spend a person's time.

More tracks from Roxoborough Park: bobcat, coyote, mule deer in the sun

2011-11-03T18:17:00.000-07:00

The sun and temperatures rose a bit in Roxoborough Park today and the animals were active.

The previous evening the mule deer had bedded down in the lee of bushes.

The next morning, the tracks led out of the night beds....

...and filtered down to the gaps between the hogback ridge to graze along the front range. One guest from Illinois thought he had seen an elk, but in fact it was just a large buck mule deer.

They weren't the only animals out and about. These are coyote tracks.

You can see him here staring longingly at a herd of mule deer that's off frame to the left.

Here's a close up of coyote tracks. The front paw is in front. The rear paw is behind. As with all Canids, the middle two paws are evenly paired and the tips of the claws are just visible in the snow.

In contrast, here's a pair of prints from a bobcat (front paw forward, back paw in the rear). This fellow wandered by the visitors and then doubled back. A tourist from Australia got a nice picture of the actual animal (soooo jealous). Notice the lack of claws and how one toe is slightly further forward as is typical of cats.

Here's a shout out to the staff at the Roxborough Visitor Center. Enjoyed the conversation today.

Snowtracking; Winter comes to Roxborough Park

2011-11-02T22:05:00.000-07:00

We've had two snows here in Denver in the last week, both over half a foot. Roxborough Park has slipped into winter.

Immediately after the snows, the crowds thin out substantially and I have the trails to myself. Yesterday, a 9 inch blanket made the walking hard, but the place was transformed.

There are still animals around. This is either a fox or coyote print. The snow had melted and the prints were pristine. You can tell this is something from the Canidae (dog family) by the two matched center toes of a total of 4 with long claws showing. It also could have been a domestic dog, but those are not allowed in the park, and the fact that this animal's track was in a straight line more or less eliminates that possibility altogether. Dogs tend to wander around excitedly in great looping circles when they are outdoors. Wild Canids walk a purpose and travel in focused, straight lines.

These are also fox or coyote tracks. The compressed part of the track had survived a bit of melting and the snow around them had blown away and receded. I thought they handsomely evoked the secretive nature of the canids in the park. I've managed to see one black fox so far. Finding it resolved another mystery about the mottled nature of the urban foxes I had seen in town. They were large, and had definite patches of grey-black among the red. At the time I thought they might have been hybrids. Apparently there's just a raft of melanistic genes among the red foxes in the Southern Denver Metropolitan area.

This is a squirrel. Aside from the mule deer they were the only thing stirring the morning after the heavy snow.

The paw marks in the middle of these tracks had melted, but whatever made them disappeared into low brush and had large round feet. From the spacing of the tracks I'm pretty sure it was a mountain lion.

The mule deer are still by far the most conspicuous animals around. I'm noticing that certain deer tend to hang out in certain spots. I think I have several photos of this guy already.

This fellow was hanging out with the big guy. Less impressive rack, but good detail on the face and fur so I decided to share it.

For the first time in two consecutive trips I have not seen a bear or bear tracks. With the leaves off the scrub oaks, however, the extent of their damage on the oak tree limbs as they pulled them down to feast on acorns is in plain view and astonishing in extent. The broken branch in this photo is about 5 inches across. Whole sections of scrub oak have been decimated this way on the Fountain Valley Trail.

Given their absence, the bears may have headed into hibernation, or possibly they're just waiting for these early storms to pass and will make another appearance when the storms have passed and nightly temperatures climb back out of the 20s.

I'll probably make one more trip to check out the tracks later this week before the snow melts away.

You folks stay warm.

Wet flies and greenback trout

2011-10-26T17:32:00.000-07:00

Fall is well upon us, and soon to already wearing thin in the high mountains and Front Range. The aspens have shed most of their leaves. The mountain lakes have begun to acquire a crust of ice around the edges. Here in the rarefied air of 10,000 feet, winter comes early in Rocky Mountain National Park.

In the shallows of Dream Lake in the late afternoon, a little surprise rose for a late season emerging fly. Trout....but not just any trout.

These are greenback cutthroat trout, a threatened species of trout and the state fish of Colorado. You can identify them by the blood red gill plates and the heavily spotted tail.

Dream Lake isn't the only place in the park that has them. The next day the Jocelyn and I struck out for a straight and steep valley littered with boulders as big as cars. In 1982, a natural dam gave way in the upper end of the valley and a massive landslide rumbled it's length. In many places the valley sides are still raw. Greenback trout (hopefully) were reintroduced as part of the stream restoration.

Pollution from mining, competition from non-native brook trout and brown trout and interbreeding with stocked rainbow trout have displaced and diluted greenback trout to the point that it is not entirely certain they exist at all. A population was found in the Big Thompson in 1957 and a reintroduction program has begun, especially inside Rocky Mountain National Park. The genetic status of the reintroduced greenback trout has been called into question (details here), but as far as the park is concerned, that's what's in the river where we were.

This was not easy fishing. I am still settling into fly fishing and this was my first time to use a double nymph and strike indicator. Some one was already fishing the lower end so we jumped (literally..on boulders) to the top end and broke all the fly fishing rules by picking our way downstream. The river was beautiful but the drifts were short and the footing was difficult.

But we still managed to catch.

Here's a shout out to Steve at Rick's Fly shop in Estes Park for the tips on nymphing and the suggested fishing site. It was a challenging wade but well worth it.

The day before I had been been dabbling nymphs on the Big Thompson but got frustrated enough to switch back to spinning gear. Confession here. I've been fly casting since I was 12, but I rarely use the gear. I know how hit my targets and present baits with spinning tackle. Backcasting and false casting and mending and barrel rolling all seem like unnecessary complications when I can hit my targets faster and with more distance and accuracy on on spinning gear. There. I said it. Call me a rube. I don't care.

But here I am in Colorado. A fly-fishing mecca. I feel the need to at least make a decent effort.

I caught a decent rainbow on the old stand-by Mepps....

...but on the next trip out, the spinning gear stayed in the car. The Jocelyn and I hacked our way along the stream until one of those dirty fat browns took the nymph. At about 14 inches (sorry Steve, I know I said 16, but apparently I got carried away) it was a substantially more exciting fight than the greenback was able to provide.

Given the current status of things, maybe it's best to harass the browns and brookies plain old rainbows and leave the greenback cutthroats to their high mountain refuge.

Whatever fishing I do in the months to come....

...it's going to have to happen in the cold. As we drove down from the mountains the first snow storm of the year pushed into Estes Park and down into Front Range. Fall has passed quickly into winter here in Colorado.

Southern Illinois snake migration

2011-10-16T21:41:00.000-07:00

Of all the annual animal migrations associated with fall, perhaps the least known and least appreciated is the migration of cold blooded creatures between their warm weather habitats into their winter quarters.

In Southern Illinois this migration occurs twice a year along the Mississippi escarpment. In spring the snakes emerge from deep crevices in the rocks to crawl into the swamps. In fall, they crawl back from the cooling swamp into the stable winter temperatures of the karst. Snake migrations occur all over the middle temperate latitudes. Find rich snake habitat beside a cliff with crevices that do not freeze in winter and you'll probably find a migration too.

Perhaps reptile migrations often escape notice because they do not occur en masse. Rather, in September and October every year, a gradual procession of slithering, creeping herps wends upward from the lowlands into their winter homes and then back down the following spring. To see them, you have to be careful, watch your step, keep your eyes open and be in the right place at the right time.

This year the daughter and I made a trip to witness the fall migration. Snake stick in hand and eyes open wide, we set off down the snake road into our day...

...which provided us with our first snake before we even exited the parking lot. This handsome ribbon snake was creeping through the gravel on the road. The daughter actually stepped over him (a fact oft recounted in subsequent retellings of our adventure) and provided an excellent cautionary tale against moving too fast and not paying close attention.

Snake hunting provides an excellent opportunity to learn about "search images". Search images are the way our brains to seek and find objects they need or wish to avoid. By scanning for a few key characteristics, visual information is compressed into a short-hand that allows rapid assessment of an area for threats or opportunities. Most search images are based on movement, color and size and shape in approximately that order. Unfortunately, search images must be refined through practice.

To newbies at a snake migration, every stick and blade of grass becomes a snake and vice versa.

For instance, a bit further down the road I was sure I saw something moving in the nearby bushes. Snake number 2 perhaps? "I'll just step over this stick on the side of the road and check it out." How interesting, thought I, preparing to leap before sufficient looking, that the stick on the side of the road had a big, black triangular face.

That stick was, of course, Agkistrodon piscivorous leucostoma, the fabled western water moccasin. I had not been this close to one in many years and I was much closer to him than I ever really wanted to get. About then that the daughter and I decided our nascent search images were probably a lot safer on the relative spatial simplicity of the road.

For most of the day we kept out of the underbrush where apparently sticks were snakes and the snakes were sticks.

The water moccasin was lethargic and unaggressive but apparently did not share our opinion about the safety of the road. After allowing us to view him for a few minutes he slithered off, post-haste.

We were soon to find out why.

We stumbled onto our 3rd snake of the day stretched out a mere 20 feet from the spot where the water moccasin had been. This is a red milk snake. Collectors have decimated this species for the pet trade and it has become increasingly difficult to find one in the wild. We first saw this fellow in a relaxed pose, easing himself gently across the road.

His mood changed considerably when the hoard of amped up teenagers thundered up behind us to grab, poke, photograph and do god knows what else to the poor little serpent. The boys didn't seem to mean any harm but in the frenetic gush of their enthusiasm, I soon found myself wishing I had fled into the bushes along with the water moccasin. Certainly the milk snake was less than pleased with the attention. He coiled and struck and shook his tail as if he were a rattlesnake.

There is a 10,000 dollar fine for collecting snakes at this site, or even having a bag or snake hook that might lend itself toward that activity. Hopefully that was enough to deter those boys from shoving this fellow into a bag, but the appearance of a snake hook and back pack made their intentions questionable. We did not hang around to find out.

The woods were thick with excitable males. From the time we arrived, various bands of them had engaged in simian hooting and yelling all around the woods. Some were with parents. Some were alone. Almost all of them were stomping through brush and poking in crevices and turning over logs like there was no tomorrow. Paths were worn everywhere along the base of the cliff. When we met them on the trail, their speech was invariably rapid and their eyes were weirdly dilated as if they were on some kind of reptilian crack.

During this time we also met some students from Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. The men in the group had also apparently indulged in substantial does of the reptile crack. They gushed happily about all the snakes they had seen. The women, who claimed to have seen no snakes (and apparently never wanted to) lagged behind the men. They seem to have taken a drug of their own that involved much scowling and rolling of the eyes. The group wandered unevenly off toward the area where we had witnessed the mugging of the milk snake, the men still pushing over logs while the women convulsed with impatience. Hopefully the effects of their various drugs wore off later and everyone survived.

For our part, we were enjoying the day. After 3 quick finds we realized that we were in the midst of worthy adventure.

The daughter, for her part, decided the exact middle of the road was a very good place to walk.

We saw one more unidentified snake in stony ditch beside the road. That was it for the next two hours.

Having avoided the ingestion of snake crack or convulsion-inducing substances we managed to avoid impatience and simian hooting as the day progressed. We did, however, share a snack and a few laughs about goofy things that boys do in the woods.

Then we got back into the hunt...

...which immediately turned up this black rat snake, just under 4 feet long. Impressive. By then the bands of hook-wielding primates had thinned out. This guy slithered peacefully into the bush, unmolested.

The daughter watched him go, witnessing the miracle of a snake disappearing instantly into the forest floor (he's still visible here, can you spot him?).

Along with the snakes we saw quite a bit of other wildlife including amphibians and birds. This cricket frog was in a puddle on the road wearing a spider exoskeleton as an earring. I don't think that particular look is doing much to enhance his appearance, but it's probably hard being a frog in the middle of a snake migration. To play fashion police at such a time would be unkind.

By the end of the day, the herps seem to have found their places and settled in for the night. We saw one more ribbon snake in leaf litter by a log and that was it for the day. This millipede was crawling along the trail was almost big enough to be a snake, and provided one last brush with Mother Nature before the long car ride home.

Next spring when the temperatures rise, the snakes will wake and the process will all begin again. These days its hard to plan in advance, but we may once more wander down to Southern Illinois for another dose of reptile crack.

Hope we see you there...but ON the trail, thank you.

Anachronism out.

Urban Predators: lions and yuppies and bears, oh my!

2011-09-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

Instructions for how to deal with mountain lions on the trail
to Carpenter Peak in Roxborough State Park

As fall begins to close in on the Front Range I continue to marvel at the proximity of large predators to a major urban center like the Denver Metropolitan area. Despite years of working in big cat country, I have only recently seen one in the wild. Tracks and kills and stories were common but mountain lions, and predators in general, are elusive as ghosts.

In Roxborough State Park just outside metropolitan Denver, the ghosts move among people. The sightings board in the visitors center shows just about one bear a day. The mountain lions are less frequent, but still common. Black fox, a melanistic form of red fox and something I never knew even existed until I came to this place, occur there along with coyotes and bobcats and turkeys and more. Yet among the obvious signs of predators everywhere, the trails are filled with children and adults.

On visits to the park with my own daughter, we found bear tracks every time we have visited and spotted a black bear about half of those. Mountain lion tracks are common. More than once I have found baby stroller tracks immediately beside those of large black bear. Yet according to the naturalist at the front desk there has never been an attack by a black bear on a human in the park. One attack from a mountain lion was documented in 1998.

The daughter's hand beside a mountain lion track on a heavily traveled trail in Roxborough State Park

This is not to say of course, that everything is roses and cream between beasts and men in here Clabadabo. Four animal attacks occurred in the Denver area this summer alone. Unsupervised adolescents, mostly girls, were grabbed by the arm by dog-like creatures, presumably coyotes, on greenways in the Westminster area. These incidents are still amazingly uncommon, enough so to evoke incredulous disbelief by all involved. Yet rabies shots are no fun at all and the violation of an animal attack is sufficiently alarming that there will probably be many less coyotes in Westminster by the end of the year.

Some of the statistics about mountain lion attacks can be accessed here. As a disclaimer, the site here (minus the link to the 1991 study by the professor from Northern Arizona State) seems to adopt a fairly conspiratorial tone and feels the number of attacks is being badly downplayed. Given the modern enthusiasm for conspiracy theories, I find myself rolling my eyes at some of the accusations there, but I will say I am personally aware of at least one 2nd person account that is not on this list. I detect significant bias, sensationalism and advocacy in this web page and the authors in turn claim official sources are biased toward minimization. If this is the best source of data it seems pretty clear that hard numbers will not be easily obtained. There are probably holes in this data for a variety of reasons and the bottom line is that even though mountain lion attacks are widely acknowledged as rare, they do occur.

The one mountain lion attack that occurred in the park was on a 130 pound male ranger. The ranger was badly injured but managed to fend off the attack, driving a finger and a small pocket knife into the lions eyes. Apparently the experience was a life changing one. The ranger had a religious experience during the attack, joined a church and became a motivational speaker.

There is an undeniable risk to close proximity to "monsters". Individual people are attacked and occasionally killed. Outside a few brushes with aggressive domestic dogs and a very excitable shark who apparently thought my stable isotope samples of fish muscle smelled delicious, I have had no such encounters. I have, however, met people who have been attacked and their cannot be discounted.

Yet even those people with such experiences generally have had no malice toward their attackers. When carefully managed (and clearly there is no consensus what is meant by "carefully managed"), the experience of living near predators seems worthwhile to society at large. Sportfishing and outdoor recreation in general was originally promoted to create a more robust populace. Surely, that occurs more readily among a population used to dealing with large predators rather than one who for whom "outdoor adventure" consists of easing obese backsides into lawn chairs to watch a bobber and drink beer all day.

The risks from predators to individual humans is low, especially when simple precautions are taken. In Roxborough, there is habitat, prey, and space aplenty. Even though the park lies within sight of the park the skyscrapers of Denver and a large subdivision abuts one border, so too does the Pike Natural Forest. Mule deer and other prey are available in abundance and people are most definitely not on the menu.

In Illinois and similar places, black bear and mountain lions are literally ghosts, having been extirpated well over a century ago. The odd straggler that wanders in from Wisconsin passes through and moves on in search of something that hasn't been plowed. In Missouri, a recent spate of mountain lion shootings make it clear that there as in other places, the numbers of these predator are rising. It only seems a matter of time before they begin to re-establish in the East where habitat is available. In some cases that has already occurred.

From the perspective of a biologist, this mostly seems like a good thing. The amount of fear engendered by their re-appearance seems disproportional to the actual risk they pose. From the perspective of a parent, I'll take greater responsibility to keep my children safe in the woods...and be ready for a fight if necessary.

I'm looking forward to learning more about these predators as time goes on and spending more time as a proud, unabashed participant in the food chain of the Rocky Mountains Front Range.

See you on the trail.

Rugged habitat is abundant in the park, including small caves and complex rock formations.

Mule deer, a common prey of mountain lions, are abundant in Roxborough as are acorns, wild plums, and other forage preferred by black bears.

Scrub oak gives way to Ponderosa Pine at higher elevations along the boundary with Pike National Forest abutting the park to the west.

A subdivision of premium housing has tucked itself into the borders of the park and building continues unabated in the neighboring suburbs. Pressure on habitat is a universal constant at this particular point in our natural history.

The Denver skyline looms behind the rock formations of Roxborough State Park. Despite the high human and predator density, only one known attack by an animal on a human has occurred in the park.

Colorado National Parks: 2011 summer sampler

2011-09-21T10:52:00.000-07:00

Rocky Mountain National Park

Growing up in the South, Colorado was one of those places I thought of in mythological terms. The South was hot, low, and familiar. Colorado was wild, high, and exotic. Not only was it a place to escape the summer heat or go to see actual snow, it was also the land of mountains and wildlife and National Parks. Living now within a short drive of places I've always dreamed of seeing has become a rejuvenating pleasure.

As much as possible, I've tried to bring the daughter to these places. I know when was young I would have loved the chance to see them. Hopefully by giving her that experience so soon in life it won't dispell the magic. Maybe these trips will help her acquire a deeper appreciation for nature. So far she seems to have enjoyed the experiences.

Perhaps we're off to a good start.

Mesa Verde National Park

Mesa Verde is a time capsule and cautionary tale of the temporary nature of apparently successful societies. After 700 years, the "ancient ones" just walked away from the structures, primarily due to an extended drought.

Living quarters in Mesa Verde cliff dwellings

Certainly there are issues to ponder and lessons to be learned in a place like that.

Wild horses at Mesa Verde

The Ute Nation, who live around the park, allow their stock of wild horses to roam free in Mesa Verde. The horses are never ridden or shod, but are rounded up once a year and released again to roam the park and surrounding country side.

Florissant Fossil Beds

The Florissant Fossil Bed National Monument is full of the fossilized stumps of ancient redwood trees. Their descendants are now confined to moister high altitude and coastal habitats on the West Coast but they were once the climax species of a wet coniferous forests of ancient Colorado. Also within the park are working paleontologists who will show you what they've found in the thin planes of shale they split to find pre-modern ancestors of everything from weevils to rhinoceros bones.

Great Sand Dunes National Park

Great sand Dune National Park is a natural day trip for kids. Sand from the mountains has been washed down from the mountains over millions of years and was then blown back by prevailing winds and piled up in a fortunitous positive feedback loop that forms the biggest sandbox in North America.

What could be more fun?

Dinosaur Ridge National Monument

If I climb onto my roof, I can see Dinosaur National Monument on the Front Range. Foot prints of dinosaurs (can you see the unmarked footprint in the center of the photo above?), mangrove fossils, wildly painted stegasaurus statues, a comprehensive museum and an actual Allosaurus skull make it a must see for anyone interested in the Natural History of the American West.

All of these National treasures are easily reached from metroplitan Denver. Many others are close by. Over the winter and next year, I'm looking forward to exploring more of them as well as the National Forests and state and county parks.

Maybe I'll see you there.

Day trip to Rocky Mountain National Park; moose grump, elk bugles and the Big Thompson

2011-09-18T14:39:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we explored a state park here on the outskirts of Denver. This week, we drove a mere hour and half up the mountain to Rocky Mountain National Park.

The first dustings of snow are already falling on the peaks there now and the elk are feeling the change of seasons. As we arrived, a harem and protective bull were bedded down in the meadows around the Big Thompson River, enjoying the last of the summer sun.

As usual, we were flying blind. After a lunch break we watched a couple of fly fishing novices flail the water into a froth and still land 2. We decided that looked far too easy and struck out on a 2.8 mile hike to check out Cub Lake instead.

On the way we encountered more elk. Despite the impressive rack on this guy, he had just been driven off a harem....

...by the much bigger bull above.

These ladies seemed oblivious to the testosterone-poisoned males.

The trail to Cub Lake gradually climbed up the valley walls, into the forest and through aspen groves.

The hikers coming the other direction on the trail began to mention that there were moose ahead. Eventually we picked up the tracks.

Just before we reached the lake we encountered a woman with a broken arm. Apparently a bull moose had decided to attack a pair of calves and the cow turned on him to drive him away. The woman had been too close and fell on her arm scrambling to get out of the melee'.

We never saw any battles, but the bull (who was young) did seem quite grumpy. Cub Lake was full of water lilies, probably prone to winter kill and not really what you would call outstanding trout habitat.

The moose calves, however, were cute.

We decided not to fish among feuding moose in sub-optimal habitat. Instead we took some pictures and hiked back down the valley.

At the bottom of the hill, we fished the Big Thompson River. Jocelyn has managed to learn casting in a couple of short lessons.

...

I actually managed to present the dry fly where I wanted it to land...but both of us missed a ridiculous number of strikes. I think after the long hike I was too tired to remember the difference between spin fishing and flyfishing. Lifting the rod but failing to strip the line to set the hook apparently just doesn't cut it.

We both drew blanks but it was still a pleasure to finish the day with bugling elk all around and only a short drive between us and home. Despite frustrations, it had been a fun day with lots of wildlife and rising fish.

On the way out of the park the harem in the lower Big Thompson meadow was up and grazing and the big bull elk was bugling incessantly and chasing away the pretenders.

Yes. We are enjoying Colorado.

Roxborough State Park: Mule deer and black bear feeling the fall

2011-09-15T23:02:00.000-07:00

Fall is beginning to suggest itself along the Colorado Front Range. Cool rains have soaked us recently and the first leaves have started to turn.

Roxborough State Park has turned into a favorite spot for a quick dip into nature.

The bears have been unusually active and the sightings board in the visitor's center shows a sighting almost every day.

Mule deer are absolutely everywhere.

The bucks have begun to shed the velvet from their antlers and while we were there some of them were swiping their racks through the bushes to hasten the process. The rut is not far away.

Other wildlife were out in force as well. Along the edge of a meadow a black fox (!) stirred from a copse of trees and bolted for the woods. Droppings full of acorns and plums were everywhere along the path.

Scrub oaks had been torn down to be stripped of their goodies. In some places it looked like earth moving equipment had been driven through the trees.

Standing and listening for wildlife in the bush we heard what sounded like a gunshot. Looking across the meadow, the source of the sound became immediately evident. A black bear had cracked the trunk of tree to get at an acorn snack.

...and all of this is unfolding within sight of the Denver skyline. There were tracks from baby strollers along the path here and fathers were walking with four year olds. Chic couples garbled happily along in some kind of Middle European language as they walked on the trails. Frankly, this place was worth their trip.

What a pleasure to live in Colorado.

Road cut fossils: the stones cry out

2011-09-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

Petrified wood, methinks.

I have recently engaged in an obscene amount of driving. To cope with the boredom and lower back pain I often stop at road cuts and look for fossils. This can be a rather exciting activity not only because of the occasional interactions with law enforcement officers curious to see what the heck I'm doing, but also because I find some pretty interesting things. The ones in the pictures on the left were located in Texas, New Mexico and Colorado. I don't know what all of them are (or even if all of them are fossils) but the coral and petrified wood and old mud patterns seem pretty clear. I'd certainly like to learn more.

Fossils are everywhere. More are being found all the time. For someone captivated by the mystery of living things, this is an unending source of joy.

This week, for instance, a report on a South African hominid was released suggesting a direct ancestor of humans may have been identified (here). This is of course part of the ongoing work of anthropology and paleontology that seeks to understand our deep natural history. There is nothing surprising or unusual about these findings for anyone who has followed these fields. More pieces of the puzzle are falling into place. Over time, more fossils will be found that gradually flesh out the human family tree and more accurately trace our exact course of evolution as a species. I find that a reassuring and hopeful process.

Conversely, these findings are a bit of a challenge if you are committed to the idea that intermediate forms of animals have not been found or you think humans somehow stand apart from biological evolution. It's getting pretty hard to be an ethical person who thinks evolution is an invalid theory with poor supporting evidence. Watching yet another "intermediate form" emerge from the fossil record reminds me yet again of the folly of the anti-evolution position. More to the point it underlines the tragedy of the minds and lives that have fled from rational discourse on the topic.

How many intermediate forms must science produce before creationists lay aside the claim that they have not seen enough? If there aren't enough now, how many will be needed? New fossil species are coming out of the earth all the time. The gaps are steadily being filled. At what point does a rational person abandon the argument that there are no intermediate forms? Do they require that paleontology produce every single animal that ever lived ?

Is science to be forever locked in a "half the distance to the goal" scenario where they steadily approach a full description of our natural history but are never awarded the recognition of having actually discovered the process that created us?

Pretty clearly fossil coral

Given the choices that are being made by creationists, this seems likely.

I well remember a church group canoe trip in Indiana when I found an excellent Chrionoid specimen on the gravel bar of Sugar Creek. Such fossils are common in that area. I was excited about this one because it included an end piece. Being the goofy, easily-excited biologist that I am, I wanted to share my find and handed it to a child standing near me, explaining what it was and how old it was and how exciting it was to find a full specimen. I also well remember that child's father stepping in, taking the fossil from his child and throwing it back into the river.

What do you do with such a man?

I'm sure he cares for his child but he has chosen to do so by keeping her in ignorance and rejecting any contact with the idea of evolution. Home schooling texts by Bob Jones University and other groups have committed to the same strategy. To maintain this stance, all of them are forced to throw logic, and therefore honesty and decency back into the river as well.

And yet these people exist under the umbrella of a religion that exhorts them to be unwavering in their pursuit of the truth?

Some people are just bad people. Others probably have the capacity to be good, but they've sold out to bad ideas. I find no joy in bashing that second category of moral failures. I grew up in the Bible-belt and I well know the virtues of community and generosity many of people possess there. But their fundamental(ist) distrust of science has not not stopped at the edges of evolutionary debate. It has progressed to a paranoid distrust of biology and environmental science and blinded them to the point that they are doing real and immediate harm to our future.

Much of Texas, New Mexico and Colorado have recently burned. Large parts of Joplin and Tuscaloosa were blown down and unusually strong tornadoes. Record setting rain fall and floods are occurring all over the globe. Yet the governor of Texas insists that the prevailing science explaining why global temperatures are rising and such fires and storms and floods have become more common cannot be trusted. Apparently this is a small step for him as he also insists that evolution can be rejected on a whim.

By swallowing the first lie that evolution was not valid, the second has apparently become palatable as well.

Now this man wants to be president of the country that produces more greenhouse gasses than any other on earth. What is more alarming is that a majority of Americans apparently agree with him that humans have not affected the climate. These views hold sway among the populace at large despite the fact that 97% of climatologists and 97% of the National Academy of Science are convinced that human-induced climate change is real.

It seems in dealing with the climate, we are locked into another debate where the evidence will never be sufficient and every finding will only take us half the distance to the goal. It disheartens me to say that the blame lies solidly at the feet of people of faith.

It is hard to describe the frustration and sorrow that comes from watching people of good will fall into this trap. If climate change is a major problem, it pales in comparison to the lack of a moral will sufficient to face the truth. If we as a species cannot accomplish that, it begs the question how how we can possibly avoid other self-inflicted environmental disasters we will inevitably face. The consequences of that choice so far are greater droughts, more intense storms, floods, dead reefs, and a growing list of other problems.The abdication of religion from this issue, the utter abandonment of viable environmental ethic by the very institution from whom most Americans derive their moral beliefs stands as a tragic monument to the foolishness and arrogance of the age.

Jesus was once accosted by the religious authorities of his day to restrain the enthusiasm of his followers (Luke 19):

³⁹ Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
⁴⁰ “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out".

In the moral crucible of our biological selves, believers have opted to silence the truth.

But the very stones are crying out.

Midwest camping with the daughter

2011-09-08T09:58:00.000-07:00

Recently the daughter and I were able to enjoy some time camping in Illinois. "Enjoy" and "Illinois" aren't two words I've put together very often recently, but we did indeed have a good time.

The panfish were biting in an old coal mining pit near the campground, and the grasshopper fly worked just as well for small centrarchids as it did for Colorado brook trout. The grandmother fishing beside us from a stool with a bobber and worm didn't seem especially impressed with the catch rate on the fly rod. Certainly the data supported her position, but I was glad for the practice and the daughter said my casting loops were "pretty".

So take that, granny. I got "pretty" loops!

Camp food consisted of the standard fare. Hot dogs. Smores. Corn on the cob. The daughter, who is a notoriously picky eater (only bland, sweet, homogenous, or yellow things thank you), seemed to enjoy the menu. The fire roasted corn was a special treat. Even the raccoon raid on the daughter's bucket of earthworms we left on the picnic table was a pretty fun time.

I'm looking forward to more camping in the future. Thanks to the Jocelyn for loaning us the tent. I'm glad restored coal mines like this one exist to break up the monotony of the corn and soybean desert of Illinois, but frankly I'm looking forward to more ambitous venues. I have always felt at home in the West. We're going to take it by storm.

The daughter has an appetite for natural places. She sees wildlife and understands how they seek and depend upon approriate habitat. These days when we walk down a trail she'll comment about this place or that place might be a good place to find pheasant or deer...and she'll be right.

I don't know how much these skills will help her in life. Apparently these are not especially marketable. But I know they come easily to her and we hold them in common. Maybe some day she can make "pretty loops" of her own.

Excuse me, Texas, but you seem to be on fire

2011-09-07T15:25:00.000-07:00

Traffic jams are to be expected on the interstate. Wildfires, especially in the piney woods of East Texas, are much less conventional fare.   So yes, I was quite surprised when the crawling column of traffic that had mired me down on I-20 eventually inched past a swath of burning trees and median.

A house was on the hill above the snarled traffic. A group of people, apparently a family, had gathered in their yard and were talking across a stock fence. The men were large, heavy-set clones of each other with crew cuts, sensible glasses and overalls. Germanic no-nonsense square-framed daughters and wives stood with their hands on their hips as the smoke swirled by. A grey-haired  clone was trudging up the hill toward the group, sporting the same sensible glasses and overalls. The generations were gathering in crisis.

I have passed those houses a hundred times. Before that day I had never seen a living soul. I'm sure most days these men and women are usually planted on a tractor, or working stock, or just quietly engaged in their day to day business.  Today they were not quiet.  Today their business was to save their homes.

The previous day the news had shown a similar family in rural Louisiana soaked to the bone and surveying a smouldering pile of rubble that had been their home.  The forest fire hit mere hours before the drenching rains of Tropical Storm Lee had put it out. Those rains never made it to Texas. All the way back to Colorado there were stretches of burned out median and easement. Dallas was wrapped in haze. Three hundred homes had been burned out southeast of Austin. This year, 3.5 million acres had burned in Texas and 1,700 homes have been lost. As of this writing, the Bastrop fire is still burning.

I grew up in this area. This is not normal. This is something new, as is the 59 days over 100F that were recorded this summer in Shreveport.

Arizona had its biggest wildfire ever this year along with a brutal drought. Belize has had its worst fire season ever and ash from those blazes may be fueling an algae bloom offshore. Last year much of Russia burned down to the point that the prime minister of what had previously been a climate change denying country was forced to admit that no, this was not normal. Throw in the flooding, throw in the storms, throw in the melting polar ice caps and the receeding glaciers and rising seas around the globe and the picture becomes clear. These things are outside our normal experience. Things are not normal.

Clearly, one weather event can't be linked specifically to climate change. Clearly, fires and drought have happened before. But just as clearly, as the prodigious number of anomolies adds up, the evidence has become rock solid that the drys will be drier and the storms will be stormier and the planet is gradually getting warmer has moved well beyond doubt.

As the personal tolls mounts and more and more solid, hard working families end up standing in their yards counting the damage of fires or tornados or hurricane or drought, it will become harder and harder to forgive the climate denial position that was willing to ignore the coming personal losses they were warned of decades ago. That time is coming quick.

Karst hills burn in Central Belize beside the Northern Lagoon in May 2011.

Fires in Northern Belize during the 2011 dry season were too numerous to be counted.

Unlocking Colorado: "unfishable" is relative

2011-08-21T19:02:00.000-07:00

The Anachronism is beginning to enjoy the role of Colorado trout newb.

The Gazetteer shows names and topographic lines and elevations and a little blue thread that should be a stream. Every inch is a potential discovery and the volume of potential lessons boggles the mind. Unlike any place in the east, Colorado is covered by public land. National Forests, national parks, national monuments, state parks, county parks...this place is an Edenic multi-use public playground for adults and semi-adults. The public lands are pistons for the engine of a 1.8 billion dollar recreational industry.

This weekend the Anachronism and the Jocelyn jumped into the adventure by plopping a quasi-educated finger down onto a thin blue thread near a National Forest campground and driving out to meet it down a long dusty roads into the approximate middle of nowhere.

From the information on the map we expected skinny water. Check. Small pools and tight spaces? Check. Brook trout? Checkissimo.

Among the things we did not expect to find was a massive burn area, tight willow and evergreen canopies along the banks, and a amazing abundance of mountain bikers. The bikers were no problem. The tight spaces were going to be a challenge. The burn was a sickening lesson that the scale of grandeur in the American West is evenly matched by the scale of apocalypse here.

A local fly fisher, rodless and apparently just out on a hike was glad, if slightly amused, to see us on the creek. "The DOW used to stock and find tons of trout here during electrofishing surveys. But they stopped stocking and no one fishes it now." He recommended an open stretch of beaver ponds and characterized the rest of the stream as "unfishable".

Looking at the eroding banks below the burn, I can see why the Department of Wildlife stopped managing the stream. Silt from the denuded and slowly recovering banks was embedding the cobble, filling the scour holes, and robbing the stream of habitat for trout and their invertebrate prey. The beaver dams seem to be trapping some of the silt and helping a bit. The stream was in better shape below them but the ponds themselves were filling and much shallower than they should have been. Everywhere there were signs this stream had seen better days.

So our stream of choice was a bit of a "fixer-upper", left behind as impaired, inferior water. Fine. Bring on the challenge.

Very quickly we found that heavy boulders and high gradient areas where the water fell fast and with greater energy had scoured plunge pools deep enough to hold trout. Our scouting had revealed that the heavy brush of alternating fir, willow and toppled pines rendered any aggressive fly casting impossible except on a few very rare stretches of silted-in run. So we hiked from the boulder-shrewn debris field of one ancient landslide to the next, dropping grasshoppers and sponge grasshopper flies behind the boulders directly into bubble curtains and small plunge pools.

The fish were there. They were everywhere, but easily spooked. This stream had no lack of targets if we could ever present a lure before they flew away in terror. Oh yes, that reminds me. The garter snakes also made an impressive appearance during the warmth of the day. Half way through the trip, I had seen enough Jocelyn-garter snake interactions to know not to point them out.

Snakes, however, were the mildest of our adversaries in our fallen Eden. Every stick and boulder and leaf and bug seemed determined to keep our lines entangled and immobilized in the tight quarters along the banks. Where we were eventually able to approach deep holes quietly, we got bites, but achieving that level of stealth became a Herculean task. In the beaver ponds, after literally crab crawling on my butt to slip in unnoticed, something rose. That tiny, familiar hummock of water appeared where my grasshopper fly had been. I stripped the line, the rod bent. Brook trout came to hand. Thank you, rodless fly fisher. You were right about the beaver ponds.

Hopefully the DOW won't mind we took two of their brookies. Colorado's human population has grown by 17% in the last decade. The playground is full of people, some of them native, many of them out-of-state newbies like us. None of them showed up on our little fixer-upper stream on this day. I shudder to think what it's going to be like when the finger finally falls randomly on a famous gold medal trout stream and we end up shoulder to shoulder with the thundering hoard on heavily pressured water.

This trip the fish were thick, some were large and the pair we took were perfect and tender in onion and garlic and butter with salt and lemon on the wood fire.

We are indeed enjoying our chances to wander in the playground.

Can't wait to see what lies ahead.

Dry flies and toilet trout; Clabadabo style

2011-08-19T10:08:00.000-07:00

I suppose it was inevitable.

After a few false starts, and with an excuse to spend an afternoon in the mountains, I found myself at a lake (reservoir) with trout (stocked) rising all around.

The spinner had only managed to produce a white sucker in the first half hour. The other anglers around the lake were pulling in other suckers on worms but it was clear the trout were having none of that. I had come here with no prior knowledge of this place and I confess to some disappointment at the less than pristine nature of the setting. But here I was. And there were the fish presenting their eternal puzzle...how can they be caught?

Rising trout? Dry fly.

I can't say it was a stellar performance, but it was much less painful than I assumed it would be. There were even a few casts longer than I had managed on spinning gear. The banks were clear and there were a only a few unfortunate backcasting connections with willow trees.  After an unseemly number of presentations to rising fish, that little resonant "thap" of an open fish mouth hitting the surface and the roll of a reasonably sized fish appeared beneath the fly.

I stripped the line, felt the hook set solidly and played it to hand through the emergent vegetation along the shore. Sure. It was a stocked trout. But the fins were sharp, the body was lean, the fight was hard and it was my first Colorado dry fly rainbow trout.  For a quick trip to a spot I've never seen before, this was a satisfying moment.

I have been able to cast a fly since I was boy of 12, but have never preferred it as a method of fishing. I've taken a few trout on nymphs, smallmouth bass on poppers, panfish on live bait...but it never seemed efficient. Structure hugging fish do not mix well with backcasting and long rolling loops of line. If I can drop a spinning lure into a spot the size of a coffee can from 40 feet at a pace of 2 casts a minute, why would I EVER bother with all the rigamarole of back casting and false casting and yadda yadda ya.   I still remember the sickening sound of my father's split bamboo fly rod splintering on a dead tree during a trip to Toledo Bend Reservoir on the Texas Louisiana border. That's quite a price to pay for a few bluegill. The efficiency just isn't there.

And another thing...

Yes, fly fishing has a long and storied history. Yes, it's elegant and beautiful to watch. Yes, in some cases (RARE cases outside of mountain stream fishing) fly fishing can out-perform other gear. But I don't see yet how that justifies the level of insularity between fly fishers and other anglers currently extant in the sport. Why does that demographic keep so staunchly to themselves?

Fly fishers have been responsible for just as many exotic introductions as spinning gear fishers. Fly fishers play fish longer and stress them more. Fly fishers make most of the same mistakes other anglers make. The self righteousness seems unwarranted.

But. I did enjoy that little trip. I find myself thinking about the missed strikes and having more flies on hand to better match the hatch. A vice and tying materials leap to mind as possible purchases.

Stand back, piscatorial blue bloods!

I think the Anachronism will be elbowing its way further into the fly fishing world as time goes by.

Brooksmith brook trout; the ladies have a field day

2011-08-12T08:44:00.000-07:00

I think I am going to find a way to fish for brook trout now that I'm living in Colorado.

Success is building on success and I've decided this is just a fun, kid-friendly way to fish. Not only are the fish willing, but the small, high altitude creeks are gorgeous, and brook trout are non-natives anyway. Our trips will have limited damage to the systems they occupy.

Last week, I was able to don some waders, sling the daughter on my back and move from gravel bar to gravel bar on two successive trips to small creeks loaded with brookies. I won't pretend that both trips were a stunning success numbers-wise, but there were constant bites (and due to the recent purchase of a can of "Off" the right kind of bites) and we had a blast.

I would cast, the daughter would reel them in.

We were quite the team.

The Jocelyn did her own casting, thank you very much, and caught her first Colorado brook trout on a spinner in Texas Creek.

Nothing was over 10 inches but everything was perfect. Looking forward to further trips with the Jocelyn and taking the daughter again next year...

...here's hoping they stay interested.

Anachronism out.

Anachronistic Existentialism

2011-08-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

What did that Mormon guy with the effectiveness fetish say? Seven times makes a habit?

The Anachronism has indeed become a habit many times over. Searching through the discarded corpses of old fishing blogs, it seems to have outlasted the normal life cycle of the run of the mill outdoor narcissistic cyber-rag.

Yes, the Anachronism has become quite a exceptional narcissitic outdoor cyber-rag, if only for its inability to go away.

Even more incredibly, it still seems to have readers. Despite its seeming inability to occupy any sensible blogging niche (unless there's a burgeoning blogosphere for sub-tropical conservation consultants who like smallmouth bass and are Colorado newbies who take their daughter fishing I haven't found yet), somebody out there keeps clicking the link and showing up here. Blog Counter says 20,000 hits is looming ahead. Granted, that's not equal to the traffic of your average picture of a kitten, but mom must have at least gotten one or two of her friends to drop in from time to time since 2008 (Hi Mom!).

So. With this ostentatious (i.e. pathetic) milestone ahead, today seems a good day to explore what is in store at the Anachronism.

Shockingly, there will be fishing. I'm going with the daughter at least twice next week. So brace yourself for more pictures of microscopic trout from the mountains of Colorado. I'm also going to Illinois soon so perhaps the good Dr. and I can brave the swelter to harass Micropterus dolomieu and M. punctulatus.

Also, WWF is going to fund a mangrove photography contest which I will be running. So expect pictures of those. And hopefully snook. And crocodiles. And bikini-clad tourists. Although no sane person would wear a bikini in a mangrove swamp so simmer down about the bikini-clad tourists. It's a long shot at best.

Also Marketing. Apparently I need to do marketing. Allow me to state for the record that I hate marketing. If you are a marketer or you know and admire a marketer, I probably hate you too. If you ever drank from a bottle after a marketer took the first sip, you probably make me sick. If your dog ever took a crap in a marketer's yard and you cleaned it up, it's likely I find you to be a morally suspcious individual. (Did I mention that I don't like marketing?).

But there it is. The same profession that judges worth on profits rather than virtue now hangs heavily in the foreground. Prostitution looms.

I will say part as confession and part as explanation that I have thoroughly enjoyed the moral superiority of clicking on other blogs and comparing their product laden links to the austere purity of the margins of the Anachronism. I enjoyed deleting the emailed invitations to "try this product for free". I have been quite proud of the utter paucity of any product endorsements...aside of course from passing reference to the Olympus "Tough" waterproof shock proof camera, built like a tank and ready to take sharp clear pictures of your toughest outdoor adventures. Only 349.99 at your local Best Buy stores! (I expect that check by the end of the week, Olympus. You OWE me now.). I was in it for the love.

Yes, it is a high moral plane from which I descend. But it must be done.

Everything in life is measured in money now.

Time to get with the program I guess.

Anachronism out.

Fishing for Brook Trout on the South Fork of the Williams

2011-07-31T07:13:00.000-07:00

Finally getting some time to explore the mountains around Denver. We spent yesterday checking out campsites in the Arapahoe National Forest and stopped for a while to fish for brook trout with the daughter.

I had to put on my glasses to see this one. Most of the fish we caught were similarly small...but the action was fast paced and the scenery was excellent.

The daughter plowed right in and caught the first fish and the most fish of the day.

The Jocelyn and the daughter enjoyed the obligatory log walk that comes with every trip to the river...

...and thankfully not all the fish were microscopic. None of them were big but this little guy almost was in the 8 inch range and was the lunker of the day.

Fishing a beaver pond under the majesty of a Rocky Mountain range is a great way to spend a day...but notice the brown along the hills.

Pine bark beetle has killed most of the pine trees in Colorado, leaving hundreds of square miles dead standing timber. How this gets so little press is beyond me.

Despite the surrounding sylvan apocalypse the daughter certainly had a blast....

...and the wildflowers were nice too.

We'll be back as soon as we can.

The other day...I saw a bear

2011-07-26T16:42:00.001-07:00

Living along the front range of Colorado has some substantial perks for the nature-oriented citizen. Less than half an hour from my front door there's a state park with terrific geological formations and wildlife galore.

Yesterday the daughter and I took a short hike of less than 2 miles and saw mule deer, a terrific variety of birds, a mouse scurrying in a thicket and mother bear with cubs moving off into a draw from shady spot beside the trail. A picture of the daughter's hand is below with some of the bear tracks we found.

We'll will definitely be making a return trip soon.

Video featuring WWF and Brooksmith Consulting work in mangrove conservation

2011-06-05T21:25:00.000-07:00

A Canadian group came through last year and filmed this. I always wondered what happened to the footage. Supposedly it was picked up for part of a TV documentary series in Canada at some point.

Some of the basic points about mangrove conservation are here. Hope you enjoy it.

Linda Thornton, shrimp farmer and advocate for sustainability

2011-05-14T21:11:00.000-07:00

If you want to meet an inspiring person, Linda's it. She's a practical person making a difference in sustainable shrimp farming. I've had the great pleasure of dealing with her in Belize these last 4 years.

I think you will be impressed by her story ably captured by Andy Revkin's students at Pace University. Cheers!

Must we really clear the land?

2011-04-15T20:41:00.000-07:00

This is Northern Illinois as photographed on a recent flight. Find the parts that aren't plowed. If you can.

From Denver Colorado to Columbus Ohio any aerial picture of the landscape from an airplane would look pretty much like this.

In contrast...

...here is Shipstern Nature Reserve in Northern Belize. It boasts dozens of miles of unbroken forest and mangrove swamp, the like of which can barely be found in modern Mesoamerica. These are the types of wilderness that form the reputation Belize has earned as a natural mecca.

Yet the wilderness is not entirely wild.

Look carefully in the center of the photo. A little clearing is there and a cunning road runs under the canopy toward the lower right. This may be selective harvest of timber, or a clearing for oil exploration, or both. An illegal drug trafficking airstrip was recently in this area. It could be anything. Development, in all its benevolent, destructive, and varied personas is moving ahead rapidly in Belize.

There is an inevitability in the process. Almost every humanitarian, religious, business and even environmental organization in the world deems economic development at least beneficial if not the primary beneficent activity of humanity. Economic growth is something to be nurtured, and glorified. It is under this model that citrus, banana, sugar cane, shrimp farms, and a hundred other agricultural and tourism-related industries are slowly transforming unbroken wildernesses like Shipstern...

....into a modest patchwork of agriculture and bush. The rate of forest removal in Central America is 10% per year, highest in the world. Given this trend, one has to wonder how long it will be before the whole country looks like this...

It is the explicit goal of society is to create fields and industry similar to the ones above.  It is an inescapable fact that many Belizeans would embrace the photo of the agricultural field and not the wilderness of Shipstern as their most desirable future landscape. From their perspective the agricultural landscape represents the only available path to prosperity.

These themes run deep. Stuck right in the middle of the Belizean national anthem is a line that implores its citizens to "clear the land". A recent minister of agriculture even went by the nickname of "Clear the Land" Castro. The response of many Belizeans to environmental controversies ranging from Challio Dam to Ara Macao megaresort and others has been less than kind to the environmental mainstream. Charges of "ecoterrorism" and "environmental racism" are sometimes spat across the table when conservation becomes the topic.

"You developed YOUR country, now why can't we develop ours?"

"Do you like animals more than Belizeans?"

Frankly, the questions deserve a response. Having lived in Belizean villages I have seen the toll of poverty. I don't see an honorable way for environmentalism and conservation to move forward without directly addressing economic security.  This perspective is shared by many environmental groups who spend a tremendous amount of time promoting "sustainable" paths to development. Presumably these don't require the removal of virtually all of the Belizean wilderness, top predators and ecosystem functions as has occurred in the Midwest. However, let's be honest...ours DID.

But where are these alternative paths?

Surely we are not on it yet. "Nature Reserves" are de-reserved seemingly at the slightest whim. Oil exploration, illegal roads, dam building, illegal logging, marijuana cultivation and almost everything that happens outside reserves is also occurring within them. Poaching is common. When the economic downturn hit, almost every marine protected area in Belize saw startling drops in commercial species within their no-take zones. Recent studies have shown that the reserve and park system FAIL to sustain biodiveristy and cannot be used as the sole means to preserve our natural heritage.

What about alliances with businesses? Can't the economic power of natural areas and biodiversity be harnessed through sustainable tourism and eco-prospecting?  Can't those provide enough development to make a nation financially secure? Alright. Fine. But who's definition of "sustainable" and "secure" will be used? And who's financial security are we really discussing here?

The village of Placencia, Belize recently made international news by fending off a major cruise ship company that wanted to establish a cruise terminal there.  Most Placencians didn't think thousands of additional strangers landing every week on the surrounding cayes and jungle to be a positive thing for their local culture Remarkably, the Royal Caribbean money was left on the table. For now. Yet Royal Caribbean reaps annual profits far in excess of the entire GDP of Belize.  How long will it be before they circle back?

A vocal minority of Placencians (and the Government of Belize) supported the cruise terminal in Placencia. They didn't see the problems stuffing ever more visitors into national parks. They saw the need for jobs and economic security NOW. Their notion of "sustainable" was a far less pristine Belize that attracts tourist dollars TODAY.

When a profit can be made, what will stop a developing economy (or any economy) from forgoing that profit for the sake of conservation? In some ways, asking people to forgo development is like asking them to stop breathing. Recently I tried to persuade a farmer to set aside land for a private nature reserve. He responded by first asserting that "Sometimes things just go extinct." He then asked "Where are these crowds of people who will come to see my jaguars? How do I make a profit on them?" Ultimately, this is the question that every conservation initiative must answer on some level or another.

All of this comes incredibly close to home when applied to some of the last "wild" lands around Placencia Lagoon. This is where I lived in Belize when I was a young man. Among local people, there is clearly an interest in preserving these savannahs, mangroves and broadleafed forests in this area where tourism and retirement home properties are expanding industries. The general march, however, is still on the path that many Belizeans and just about everyone else in the world recognizes as the only sure way to achieve prosperity. When individual Belizeans see a profit in a cleared patch of land, they seize it.

When the cruise ships came to build their port, some Placencians were selling their land to the company with one hand and signing petitions to keep them out with the other.

The land around Placencia Lagoon is being cleared.

What is really at stake here? I rented this little house in the mangroves for about a year near Placencia Village. I had a night heron in the yard most of the time. I encountered manatees walking home to it in the evening occasionally. There were green iguanas in the moho and buttonwood trees just within arm's reach outside the window.

To me this was an idyllic place. Yet to many Belizeans I knew, even Belizeans who share my conservation values, it was a shack. They might have grown up in a house like this but they had traded it's organic angles for the perfect corners of concrete and manicured lawns. Sure, the animals were interesting, but convenience and comfort are more interesting still. Air conditioning? Heaven come to earth!

The days of the limited human footprint in Belize are over. The march of globalization, economic development and westernization is in full swing. Whether most Belizeans want it or not, whether it's the wisest path forward or not, whether the world will lose an amazing resource or not, a goodly number of forests are coming down.

In a world were we have become prosperous by destroying what is fragile, unique, and rare in the land, where is the desirable, sustainable economic path that prevents that from occurring?   This is the central question of our most serious conservation, environmental and biodiversity issues of the day.

The scientific inevitability of the unregulated process borders on tautology.

Even the lowliest bacteria uses up its resources. Humans who live by the same "survive first" impulses written in their DNA will do exactly the same thing. We cling to illusions our current systems are sustainable but we should not be fooled. If we continue with the ethics of bacteria we will not survive as a species.

Conservationists in the US try to point to their successes in preserving the natural world around them but they are propping up the degraded remants.  Their large predators are gone from most of the continent.  Their diversity is swept to the corners and declining despite the best efforts of a wealthy, organized government and conservation movement to reverse that trend. The human population is too dense to survive on what grows naturally and even the little scraps that remain are being devoured.

Hardwood that we have cut down in the US are now being removed from other places, far out of sight. The fisheries that we have depleted have been replaced by fish from other nations. Now those fisheries are declining as well. And as the inexorable vice of climate change continues to tighten down upon us, it becomes clear that even the most seemingly benign of our pollutants can eventually do us harm when enough of it is produced.  Yet more land is cleared every day as the ever-growing rings of human influence spread across the petri dish of Earth. We are a scant number of generations away from the time our obedience to the natural order destroys our ability to survive.

The "hopes" that we will not entirely crush what remains of our natural resources careen through scenarios of varying merit and apocalyptic tone. Perhaps technology will ease our dilemma (even as it foists new problems on us).  Perhaps disease will thin us out. Perhaps wars will set us back. Perhaps we will suddenly all become enlightened and do what is necessary to cooperate and share and keep the living systems on our planet intact.

It's hard to feel especially optimistic about these options. As the success of developing nations like China in passing through "demographic transition" with zero population growth rises into unchecked consumption resources, the lesson drives home even further. Surely we have well passed the time when the Biblical injunction to "subdue the earth" has been fully accomplished. At this point we've progressed to something far more violent and pornographic. We are headed for karmic, cosmic, ecological hell.

I remember during my undergraduate studies when I was casting about for a relevant career. Most of the biology majors I knew in school wanted to be doctors. I'm sure most of them had some humanitarian impulses, but it was pretty clear their primarily motivation was economic security. I had humanitarian impulses of my own but I wasn't especially interested in medicine.

I remember feeling the need to take responsibility for living my life in a relevant way. Medicine had been around a long time, but there were still an awful lot of sick people and problems in the world. There must be something deeper still.

What seemed more solid and sure to me than anything else in the early 1980s were the images of the Ethiopian famine. Those starving children was a potent message that something in the world wasn't right. Any world where that could happen was not working properly. The recurrence of similar tragedies with the inevitability of a pendulum swing only emphasized the point.

Something fundamental in the machine was broken. Something fundamental needed to be fixed. I did not know how to fix it, but I knew antibiotics and rice and nuclear power would not be sufficient. They never had. They never would.

There are numerous environmental and political reasons and narratives for tragedies like the one that occurred in Ethiopia when I was a young man, but the big picture remains the same. Resources become limiting and humans suffer as a result. I have spent considerable time since then sifting religion and science and popular wisdom for the "path". For the "fix". In all of them, that same selfish bacterial drive to survive and reproduce seems well rooted and corrupting and invasive to good intentions.

I wonder if the capacity exists within any human endeavor to overcome our natural drive to use and grow and exploit and expand.  Individuals may find generosity and enlightenment but can whole populations actually draw limits for themselves and remain inside them? Can they thrive when surrounded by others less generous then themselves? Can we do other than clear the land?  Can we behave intentionally, rationally and benevolently as a group?

Can we be fixed?

The fix may not occur before we have cleared the land and places like Shipstern and Placencia Lagoon. Belizean children, like children in the Midwestern US may grow up in ironic subdivisions where "Crystal Lakes" are green and fetid. "Rolling Meadows Subdivisions" of flattened, homogeneous and concrete may be our future for some time to come.   Most will probably never mourn the loss of manatees and jaguars. Most will never realize what they missed.  That loss will be a tragedy, but it will not even begin to approach the tragedy that will occur when the drive to consume destroys even those degraded slums. Shifting baselines made horrors possible in the past.

I look at my children and imagine what they or their children may face in such future.

Must we really clear the land?

For now, perhaps. But we must, MUST, eventually find another way.

The face of recovery

2011-04-01T15:20:00.000-07:00

Seagrass is creeping steadily back into Placencia Lagoon. Much more was present during this month's survey. It has been quite a process getting to this point and we're still not back to the rolling lush meadows we had... but I am genuinely pleased.

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Halophilla baillonii and Halophilla decipiens are slowly returning to the murky, mucky bottom of Placencia Lagoon.

Shipstern Mangroves From the Air

2011-03-26T12:04:00.000-07:00

These are in the Shipstern Wildlife Refuge in Northern Belize.

The last sightings of smalltooth sawfish in Belize were just offshore from these freshwater sites. I saw my first jaguarundi here. This is truly a wild place...

....very few others like it in the world.

Lost and Finding

2011-02-23T11:19:00.000-08:00

True story.

This is one of the first places I ever visted by boat in Belize. Steve Sherman had taken me fishing on a small aluminum jon boat.

I was new to Belize. I had been married one year, and had lost some weight. It was hot. I was sweaty. My wedding band was the right size for my knuckle but small for my finger. My hand was on the tiller of the outboard running the boat along the mangrove when the tip of a single branch managed to slip between the tiny gap between the ring and my finger. Somehow, when I pulled my hand away, the branch managed to flip the ring past my knuckle. Over the years I have taken considerable grief about the credibility of that story, but it's 100% true.

That ring sank to the bottom in the very spot pictured above.

Steve and I dove there to get it back. It was, after all, a wedding band and I had to try. Steve was a tremendously good sport about the whole thing but unfortunately, we didn't get the ring. I remember feeling pretty unsure about the safety of swimming in a mangrove swamp, and I clearly remember being shocked at how clear the water was among the roots of those trees.

A lot has happened since that day in 1986. I went back to the US to pursue a graduate education. Seventeen years later, I returned to study shrimp farm effects and eventually help them improve their environmental performance through ecocertification with the World Wildlife Fund. One effect of shrimp farming in Belize had been the reduction in water quality in places like this. I had yet to even see the bottom in this spot since 2003...

...until this week.

This is the end of my kayak paddle resting on the bottom in over 2 meters of water.

Things haven't returned to the conditions of 1986, and I've lost far more than a ring over the course of the last 8 years, but conditions are far better than they were since I came back to Belize. The shrimp farms have taken substantive steps to improve their effluent water quality. Evidence is growing those steps are having an effect.

Maybe I'll even find that ring again.

WWF film of Brooksmith Consulting mangrove projects in Belize

2011-02-18T16:02:00.000-08:00

The Mangrove Challenge and some of the planting projects WWF has sponsored through Brooksmith Consulting are highlighted here. Wish they had given me time to comb my hair.

Mangrove Challenge winners are selected for the unique and creative ways they conserve mangrove and incorporate it into landscape design. I began this idea in 2009 with the support of WWF. We'll begin the third year's challenge very soon in 2011.

Winners range all over the demographic map, from business people to community groups, from millionaires to modest organizations and townships struggling to keep Belizean natural resources intact. I'm glad to have had a hand in bringing about this project. I hope future winners are getting their applications ready now.

Real progress: seagrass on the rebound

2011-02-17T16:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it isn't easy to know if you're making headway...

...and sometimes progress is as pristine and definitive as a fresh new sprig of green.

Seagrass, essential habitat and energy source for fish, invertebrates and Antillean Manatee, is on the rebound in Placencia Lagoon. It has been a long, hard 3 year climb but with a terrific set of partners, a little good luck and a modicum of goodwill in the right places, Mother Nature has reclaimed this little corner of the world.

It has been a good day.

Random pictures of Belize

2011-02-14T18:18:00.000-08:00

This black iguana lived in this pipe on a shrimp farm. Every time I walked past it he would scramble up it to the top to peer at me. When I came too close he'd disappear down the hole. I like the cloud above his face. Makes him look like he's breathing fire.

Upside down jellyfish (Cassiopea sp.). These are everywhere in the lagoon and yes, they lay upside down on silty substrates.

This caterpillar stings. I know this because when I tried to tie a boat's bowline to his bush, he let me have it. Belizeans call all stinging caterpillars like this "burn worm" (pronounce in Kriol as "bun wam"). I'll look up the exact species some day and post it here.

Strangler fig roots. Since bringing this photo home I have wondered if the growth pattern of the roots show them trying to pull away from the water (which is probably periodically brackish and certainly makes the substrate below it anareobic).

Mangrove in a proposed development north of Corozal. The proposal for this development retained almost all the natural mangrove along the fringe...but the project folded before construction ever began.

Egrets and white ibis in Placencia Lagoon. To me they look like little bits of cloud lifting off from the mangrove.

Towering mangrove roots on Haulover Creek. Creeks grow big mangroves when they are full of nutrients and this creek is connected to Belize City. Enough said.

Cormorants on Placencia Caye. Love the spatial aspects of this photo. Placencia Caye was put in reserve...hopefully to stay.

Black mangrove, also on Placencia Caye. The pnematophores serve the same function in this species as "knees" do in bald cypress...reaching the air to provide oxygen to the roots. Different taxa...same solution. Parallel evolution triumphs!

Wild Animal Tracks in Belize

2011-02-07T16:37:00.000-08:00

Found these 21 paces from my front door.

I have done enough research to know this is a big cat. The back edge of the foot pad is concave. There are two lobes on the anterior side of the foot pad and no claws are showing. According to Ivan Gillette, Programme for Belize ranger from the Rio Bravo Protected Area, it's a mountain lion, not a jaguar. He knew that by the even distribution of pressure across the pad prints.

A jaguar will put more pressure on the foot pad and it will sink deeper than the toes...

...like this.

Yes. That's a jaguar. And so are the tracks I found last week.

And there are more surprises to come.

Grey fox.

Agouti.

Raccoon.

Low-land paca (gibnut).

Raccoon (top)

Ocelot (bottom). Again, this ID is courtesy of Ivan Gillette of the Program for Belize. I knew it was a small cat, but it could have been either an ocelot, jaguarundi, or maraguay. Ivan ID'ed it as an ocelot by the presence of the 5th toe and the relativley square shape of the print. The ocelot tracks overlaid the raccoon tracks along the edge of a small waterway. Perhaps the little cat was hunting the raccoon? Raccoon would be big prey for a little guy like that...but maybe this was an especially ambitious cat?

That makes THREE species of cat tracks less than 3 miles from my front door. Yes. I am slightly pumped. Especially since the owner of this property is thinking about putting sizeable pieces of it into private reserve.

Little Fish in the Lagoon

2011-01-31T17:13:00.000-08:00

I didn't have time to fish but I took 4 hours anyway. Placencia Lagoon was as beautiful as ever and the water clarity in the creek running through the shrimp farm was as good as I have ever seen there.

The fishing was pleasant but a little slower than average. Lee and I caught 3 jack crevalle and one snook, all small, all released. It was good to see an old fishing buddy again, get out to see the lagoon and find solid signs of progress in water quality.

Maybe we'll get in another trip in a week or two.

Jaguars in the Mangrove Plantings

2011-01-27T15:08:00.000-08:00

I've been visiting old mangrove plantings at Aqua Mar shrimp farm to see how they are coming along. There were a few pleasant surprises.

For the second straight year, big cat prints have been thick along the shore beside the plantings...and this year..it got a little more interesting.

The photo here shows a sediment trap planted by Wilbur Dubun, an intern from Independence Junior College. Not only are the mangroves healthy and trapping sediment as they should, they're also spreading out the flow of water into many smaller streams (that's called "braiding). Each smaller flow has less energy to flush sediment downstream and thus leaves more of the sediment it carries in the trap rather than further downstream. You can see some of the crazy quilt braiding in the photo below.

Some of the new plantings at other sites are off to a fast start. You can see how they widen the water flowing through them here and accomplish some of the same braiding effect even on a small flow.

John and Betty's plantings have gone absolutely nuts. I looked for flowers on these but we're not quite that far along yet. It won't be long.

I was especially glad to see water being deflected off the mangrove shore from John and Betty's plantings (more braiding). You can just see the little stream forming to the right. By creating a hard bank of mangroves, the water had to look for other places to flow. By slowing down and spreading out the water, more sediment will be deposited here rather than being flushed further downstream.

The really big pay-off from having strong structures in place within this erosional delta is the presence of stable sediments where volunteer mangrove can begin to grow. White, black and red mangrove seedlings are now propagating in the area behind John and Betty's mangrove planting to a level never seen before this point.

And then there were some special treats. Not only were there jaguar prints on the shore above the mangrove, there were actually prints AMONG the mangroves. Given the 2 front lobes, concave back margin on the heel pad, and the lack of claw marks, these are almost certainly jaguar prints (although they could also be from a mountain lion).

Sumatran tigers rely on mangrove habitat to survive. Maybe Belizean mangrove can be a viable refuge for our big cats as well. I'm hoping we can get this area set aside as a reserve in the short term.

Here's something we see once in a while. This bright red mangrove propagule lacks chlorophyll a, the normal source of green coloration in plants. John Cheeseman, plant biologist from the University of Illinois, planted these in his herbarium and watched the results. The plant grew normally for about 6 months but never developed pigment in the leaves and then died. Red propagules planted during community plantings in Belize met a similar end. According to John, these propagules have a genetic defect that prevents them from producing chlorophyll a. Aside from being an interesting story, they also give some insight into how long a young mangrove plant can live off energy stored in the propagule.

Further from the farm, mangroves grow more slowly and invest more energy in prop roots at a smaller size. This mangrove plant is half the height of John and Betty's but has a substantial prop root and tertiary branching already.

Here's a natural mangrove shore showing gradation from black mangrove (oxygen breathing roots called "pneumatophores" sticking up from the ground) with red mangrove (leafy small trees on the right). As is typical, black mangrove prefer shallower water than do red.

One last peek at braiding in the erosional zone. This site was one single channel last year.

By creating hard points in the silt, mangroves spread out the water and make it drop its sediment load. This site has now built up to the point that we can plant mangroves in it just about anywhere. Tour guides have been inquiring about places they can take clients to plant mangroves...

...which seems like a great idea to me. Come and get it!

Gearing up: Belize 2011

2011-01-23T13:59:00.000-08:00

Reports are being written. Permits applied for...

It appears I will get some serious field time in Belize this year.

Can't wait!

Gibnut: The Queen's Rodent

2011-01-03T20:18:00.000-08:00

When I first learned about the nation of Belize in Mrs. Sloan's 5th grade social studies class, it was called "British Honduras" and it was a colony of Great Britain. Queen Elizabeth II, who has always had some responsibility to tour the disintegrating bits of the empire, visited there once and was infamously served "gibnut" (pronounced "giv-nut" in Belizean Kriol), also known as lowland paca (Cuniculus paca). British paper headlines were indignant. "Queen Served Rat", one of them fumed.

The queen has never returned to visit. Perhaps she was offended by the idea of being given a rodent to eat. Or perhaps she is just busy or isn't a fan of coral reefs, beautiful scenery and warm sunshine. One would think she would have been grateful for the change of pace. British Honduras has since changed its name to "Belize" and become an independent nation (although it is still in the Commonwealth). So far, they're getting along without the queen. I'm sure she would be welcome if she ever decided to visit again.

Certainly I was grateful for gibnut when I first tried it. When I first arrived decades ago, my Belizean neighbors decided to initiate me into the world of Belizean delicacies with a steady stream of exotic dishes sent across the street like a procession of gustatory dares. Iguana eggs? Dense and gummy. Cassava bread? Bland. Gibnut? Rich and remarkably tasty. The queen should have been glad to get it.

Gibnut have proven reasonably resilient under hunting pressure and they are in no danger as a species. However, it is generally thought their numbers are declining as the human population expands. Gibnut were mostly taken for personal consumption in the past, but now they are starting to show up more frequently in restaurants as well. Attempts have been made at "gibnut ranching" but the quality of the ranched meat has not been deemed suitable for the market so far.

All of this places the "royal rat" at a revealing nexus in the evolving world of natural resources in Belize. Historically, the low human population density of Belize had allowed a small and thus sustainable harvest of gibnut and other animals supporting a "back-a-bush" way of life. Hunters were mostly meat hunters dipping into wild populations of animals to supplement the production of small farming plots or "milpas".

It is not clear yet to what degree local dishes like gibnut will go with the people into the towns. The Belizean bush is not an especially cushy venue and the emerging middle class and civil service work force seems more interested in new cars and cell phones than trekking through dense undergrowth and biting insects with a gun. The pizza you can order in Belize City, Belmopan and Placencia is good and getting better all the time. Why brave the mosquitoes and fer-de-lance when you can order in? Recently, the more ominous trend has been the incursion of Guatemalan hunters, logger and foragers into Belize. Ostensibly linked to the Zeta drug cartel (or is that a bluff? ) these groups are taking a mounting toll on Belizean wildlife.

Yet "local food" festivals like the one held at Roaring Creek the past few years are intentionally trying to keep the tradition alive. This isn't quite the "game meat" scenario found in Africa, with rows of wild meat vendors lining the local markets, but the hunters do serve a market. Apparently there is enough demand to keep the practice alive...and gibnut numbers slowly dropping.

What is clear is that without some form of management, gibnut populations will continue to decline and what had been a high-quality, easily-available source of protein will become harder and harder to obtain. Most reasonable people understand this and the general need to regulate harvest of wild animals in the country. But many people are also hungry, or have financial needs and goals that a few pounds of fresh gibnut meat sold to the local cafe could help fulfill. In a country where the proscriptions of law are often seen as "optional", enforcing harvest regulations may turn out to be...a royal pain.

Comparisons between Belize and the US, are instructive as well. And in this era of the "Latin Americanization" of the US, one has to wonder if Belize won't lead the way here. Wildlife regulations are generally respected, well enforced and thus effective in the US. But plenty of people still violate the rules.

Perhaps the most worrisome trend I see in both places is the idea that "government intrusion" (which now seems to be a code word for anyone suggesting any form of cooperative action) should be resisted at every step. Belize has also become a retirement destination. I see on the US ex-patriot forums and in the bar room discussions the same quasi-anarchic sentiment there that has recently risen to a boil in the US, namely "Don't tell me what to do". From this group one often hears the comment "We came here to GET AWAY from laws, don't ruin this place with a bunch of rules!"

Equal and opposite to that effect are the many environmental and conservation-oriented ex-patriots who have come to the country in hopes of finding a natural paradise. In league with this demographic are the many international Non-governmental Organizations (NGOs) working to keep the natural resources of the country intact however they can. These groups have succeeded in spear-heading a wave of environmental regulations seen by many as the most progressive in Central America.

The added twist in Belize is that many see these regulations as an imposition from outside. Outside Belize, new catch and release regulations have been hailed as a major conservation coup. Inside Belize, a significant faction see the new regulations banning harvest of bonefish, permit and tarpon (all traditional plate species in Belize) as yet another concession to interfering westerners.

The resentment is sometimes palpable. At present, foreigners own 70% of the coast, and often have disproportionate influence in the small small capital-starved nation. Some Belizeans make no distinction between foreign efforts to conserve natural resources and those that trample them underfoot. In their view both are gradually peeling their birth-right from their hands.

In some quarters it is actually the conservationists who are portrayed as the worse evil since the developers are more likely to give jobs to the man on the street. People who should know better have stood up in public meetings to cast moral aspersions on conservation and conservationists. It may seem bizarre that a Belizean can kill and sell a manatee for meat and see it as an expression of his nationalism and individuality, but that is the truth of the thing.

In that kind of environment, anyone with a global conservation conscience has no alternative than to address the legacy of colonialism and the backlash against it.

Traveling the Dinosaur Superhighway in Clayton New Mexico

2010-12-28T10:02:00.000-08:00

If you are ever in the Northeast corner of New Mexico, be sure to take the short jog off the main road in Clayton to visit Lake Clayton State Park.

With over 500 dinosaur and prehistoric crocodile tracks, it is one of the most important dinosaur trackways in North America (and a pretty spot to visit as well). Iguanadons are the likely creators of the bigger footprints here. The narrower three-toed prints are of unknown origin, possibly some sort of theropod, a group of predator species that includes the Allosaurus and T. rex.

The area between here Dinosaur Ridge National Monument constitutes the "Dinosaur Super Highway", a likely migration route along the edge of an ancient bay. I am beginning to get the hang of spotting the tan and beige Dakota Sandstone where these tracks like these are normally found.

Christmas traveling does present some unique opportunities to learn about the natural world.

Lionfish cookbook: Eat your problems

2010-12-03T17:25:00.000-08:00

This is a cookbook for lionfish. Buy it.

As reported earlier, lionfish have invaded the Mesoamerican Reef and most of the Caribbean Basin. A vigorous program to promote their consumption has begun in response.

Let's hope it succeeds and let's support it!

Sportfisheries at their best; eating an invasive species.

Making (dinosaur) Tracks on the Colorado Front Range

2010-11-29T09:07:00.000-08:00

During Thanksgiving, the daughter, the Jocelyn and I made a trip to the Front Range of the Colorado Rockies check out the dinosaur tracks and fossils at Dinosaur Ridge National Monument. Despite the cold, the daughter enjoyed digging around the kiddie bone pits and checking out the sights, including an amazing layer of rock called the "dinosaur freeway". I remember reading literature as a child about how dinosaur footprints like these were fakes. Apparently we scientists know no shame...and are amazingly prolific and proficient sculptors.

While we were there, I even ~~carved~~ found an unmarked set of dinosaur tracks outside the display. It always amazes me how many fossil discoveries are still out there waiting to be spotted for anyone ~~handy with power tools~~ who has taken the time to develop their eye. Years ago, on a simple outing to Dinosaur National Monument years ago, we took a side trip outside the park to look for fossils...and found an iguanadon fibia and scapula. Fishing in Illinois, I regularly ~~built and distributed~~ stumbled upon corals, branchipods, ferns, horn corals and other fossils with relative ease.

Also at The Ridge were layers of seashore plant fossils including these mangrove stems. The current northern extend of red mangrove in the Western Hemisphere is Louisiana. Colorado was once a much warmer and more tropical region. An enormous marine embayment straddled the state and the Front Range was its shore. If you were an iguanadon, those were pretty comfy times.

Given the current rate of CO2 build up in the atmosphere, it seems our great great grand kids are going to experience iguanadon weather. Too bad they aren't reptiles too.

Presently, the WWF mangrove planting efforts in Belize stand at about 22,000 but we are not even keeping up with what is being cut. Nor is any other carbon reducing effort anywhere else in the world making a dent in the amount of greenhouse gas in the atmosphere, including cap and trade, alternative energy, and efforts to reduce overall consumption (although apparently the recession did slow us down a bit last year). Every significant effort to deal with climate change through policy has fallen short and a majority of Americans still don't even believe that scientists can read a thermometer. Given the prolonged residence time of CO2 in the atmosphere, no amount of tree planting, carbon offsets, or alternative energy will stem the (re)warming that is coming from the greenhouse effect and the burning of fossil fuels any time soon. And yes, I promise to cut back on the traveling ASAP. I am not entirely immue to irony.

Of course, I'm just joking. Climate change is just a giant lie spread by us scientists while we're not busy carving dinosaur tracks.

And to the American Taliban who sent me that email after the last post. Dude. You have picked the wrong ~~treehugger~~ fish squeezer to pee on.

Kansas Fossils

2010-11-26T11:00:00.000-08:00

I had more traveling over the holidays and another stop at the fossil strata in Kansas, this time with the daughter. I have no idea what that top fossil is. It has 5 parts and I think that might mean it's an echinoderm, but that's just a wild guess. Help?

This is clearly a coral, probably Porites. Corals very similar to this are still living all around the world.

This is the first fossil my daughter ever found. A branchiopod.

About 15 years ago on a church canoe trip, I found a similar piece on the bank of a river in Indiana. I handed it to a girl about my daughter's current age and commented on how amazing it was that oceans used to be where we were standing all those hundreds of millions of years ago. The girl's father (who I did not know and with whom I had no quarrel) responded by taking the fossil and flinging it into the river.

You know, if you're scared of evolution you're just too scared.

It's not a Midwest smallmouth blog anymore

2010-11-23T10:17:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things get simpler as they get more complex.

For instance, my level of travel has gotten to the point I don't really know where I live. I spend substantial time in Colorado, Illinois, and Belize (with recent stops in Washington state and frequent sojourns through Mexico and other points in between). There are little piles of my clothes and equipment all over the continent. At the moment, my biggest pile is in Colorado. It seems that's going to be "home" for a while.

These days I often find myself driving over the South Platte River and checking out the eddies and plunge pools. There are reservoirs upstream stocked full of (non-native) smallmouth bass and other eastern species There will be trout there. And carp. But the real issues of recreational fishing and aquatic ecology that occupy my mind these days go well beyond the details of what might be found in yet another river.

If you started following this blog as a Midwestern stream fishing blog, you've endured the gradual transition to other habitats, issues and fisheries. My days as the Science Director at the Illinois Smallmouth Alliance are three years past. I catch more Belizean snook and snapper than I do North American smallmouth. As long as Jeff is willing to have me along when I'm in Illinois, I'm hoping to make it to Rivers X, Y and Z whenever I can. But as has been evident for some time, this is no longer a smallmouth bass blog.

As I've moved from system to system, I find overarching issues in fisheries and aquatic ecology virtually screaming for attention. Having traveled myself into a sort of geographic heat death, now may be just the right time to confront those in a more comprehensive and hopefully entertaining way.

Some of these transitions are already underway.

I'm pleased to add links to native fishing blogs from all over the intermountain west and elsewhere (and sorrowful to note the passing of Riversmallies.com, a site with gracious and tolerant administrators that seems to have disappeared into the sunset). More changes will be coming there soon.

I'm also seeing more clearly the corrosive effect of hyper-commercialized recreational fishing. There is going to be much more to say about that in days to come. Basic values like avoiding extinctions of species and long term sustainability seem to be getting thrown under the bus for the sake of a buck. Everywhere you look, it seems a given that the environment exists to support the industry rather than the other way around.

Is this the source of the hostility currently being turned on good environmental science? I'd really like to know. When did things like "biodiversity" and "environmentalism" become dirty words?

Now, major sectors of the fishing community reject not only basic concepts like natural selection and evolution, but also the overwhelming evidence that shows the climate is changing and will become a serious problem for fisheries and the generations to come. The evidence for anthropogenic global warming have been uniformly addressed and settled among the people who study it. Yet the majority of the American public still rejects the evidence, apparently on the premise that they are being lied to by scientists.

When did it become cool to hate science? When did so many people decide that scientists were liars and charlatans?

These are basic problems that transcend not only smallmouth bass and fisheries, but touch on fundamental things like the human place in the world. In these days I am struggling more than ever to find my own place, these issues seem more relevant than ever.

You'll still find the occassional CPR post on the Anachronism in days to come...

...but there are most definitely other fish to fry these days as well.

Unhappy anachronisms

2010-11-22T10:57:00.000-08:00

When did raising fish in a concrete raceway and then dumping them in a toxic body of water become "ecological restoration" in any sense of that phrase?

Since when did Bass Pro Shop move into indoor shopping malls beside stores like Old Navy and J.C. Penny (and dwarf them both).

How did citizens in Pennsylvania end up on Homeland Security watch lists simply by protesting against methane contamination of groundwater due to gas exploration?

How do state fisheries professionals (responsible for running hatcheries) get away with insisting that hatcheries are necessary because it is too expensive to allow a fishery to run on natural reproduction.

How does the Illinois Policy Institute keep a straight face while it insists taxes used for scientific research (including research that developed techniques to use weather radar to measure habitat use by migratory water fowl??) are a waste of money better spent to build a shooting range.

I can understand a group of U-Tube fishermen complaining that they can't catch fish since a dam was taken off their river (get your butts off the bank and try some new techniques, guys, the fish are still there). The people in the comments section calling dam-removers "Nazis" are pretty much beyond comprehension (I guess dam removers listen to NPR?).

How in the world was a fish conservation group founded on the principle that natural habitats are pretty much already beyond hope so private aquarists should just conserve rare species by keeping them in aquariums...and selling them as pets.

And in general...

....when did we decide it was a good idea to define the health of natural resources through the preferences of the groups exploiting them rather than the condition of the resource itself?

Transitions

2010-11-03T09:27:00.000-07:00

Some big changes are afoot at the Anachronism.

In the short term this has resulted in unconscionable amounts of driving across the continental US. Some of this has been nice...seeing snow covered mountains, bald eagles, trumpeter swans, coyotes and deer...

And then there was that moment near Topkea when that streak of black dirt below that sandstone was just a little too enticing and I had to pull over...to find an absolute cornicopia of marine fossils.

I'll try to post pictures soon.

In the meantime, I'm hoping for a day on the lagoon hunting for monster snook...

...and mangrove planting in Belize City on Saturday!

The happy anachronism: a fishing blog

More predator posts coming; animals in art

Palo Duro Canyon, Texas; 30 years after my first visit

Evolving

Day before the snow hits: Prairie dogs and something new

Roxborough wildlife: sun and snow and dogs and cats

Pacific Northwest Holidays Outdoors: Rainfest 2011

Pacific Northwest Washout

Nominations for 2011 Anachronistic Fish of the Year

Pre-Christmas Leaky Waderfest: contemplations of a skinflint

B.A.S.S. supports climate change adaptation bill

More snow tracking at Roxborough: how good are your tracking skills?

Teleost, Teleology, Idiot, Ideology; A year of newbing Colorado fly fishing

Renting Live Christmas Trees in Olympia: brilliant ways to boost conservation

Checking the species list: is that a Guadalupe bass?

On the (fish) scales: individual life history tells the story of your fishery

Kansas nautilus and oyster reefs: The more things change...

Affordable Fisheries Analysis Offer: how healthy is your fishery?

The Belizean Mangrove Conservation Network on Facebook

What exactly is a "Happy Anachronism"?

Merino wool by RedRam: the Anachronism turns underwear model

Sustainability: Jason Clay and WWF and ecocertification

More tracks from Roxoborough Park: bobcat, coyote, mule deer in the sun

Snowtracking; Winter comes to Roxborough Park

Wet flies and greenback trout

Southern Illinois snake migration

Urban Predators: lions and yuppies and bears, oh my!

Colorado National Parks: 2011 summer sampler

Day trip to Rocky Mountain National Park; moose grump, elk bugles and the Big Thompson

Roxborough State Park: Mule deer and black bear feeling the fall

Road cut fossils: the stones cry out

Midwest camping with the daughter

Excuse me, Texas, but you seem to be on fire

Unlocking Colorado: "unfishable" is relative

Dry flies and toilet trout; Clabadabo style

Brooksmith brook trout; the ladies have a field day

Anachronistic Existentialism

Fishing for Brook Trout on the South Fork of the Williams

The other day...I saw a bear

Video featuring WWF and Brooksmith Consulting work in mangrove conservation

Linda Thornton, shrimp farmer and advocate for sustainability

Must we really clear the land?

The face of recovery

Shipstern Mangroves From the Air

Lost and Finding

WWF film of Brooksmith Consulting mangrove projects in Belize

Real progress: seagrass on the rebound

Random pictures of Belize

Wild Animal Tracks in Belize

Little Fish in the Lagoon

Jaguars in the Mangrove Plantings

Gearing up: Belize 2011

Gibnut: The Queen's Rodent

Traveling the Dinosaur Superhighway in Clayton New Mexico

Lionfish cookbook: Eat your problems

Making (dinosaur) Tracks on the Colorado Front Range

Kansas Fossils

It's not a Midwest smallmouth blog anymore

Unhappy anachronisms

Transitions