Joys of a Small Kayak in a Small Lake

       It has been a few years since I have written a post so it is time to get back at it. I know there is at least one person out there who enjoyed reading these posts, so for her, I will try to be more diligent.

A couple weeks ago I had the opportunity to put my small kayak into a small, boreal forest pot-hole lake one beautiful summer day. After loading my safety gear and donning my lifejacket I launched myself into the calm, quiet water.

A distant and very wary common loon let its presence be known with its distant warbling call but did not let me get close enough for a photo with my cell phone.  As a semi-professional photographer, I learned another lesson on this trip; don't forget your batteries and battery charger for your good camera. How many times do I have to be reminded?  As I quietly paddled along, red-winged blackbirds warned me away from hidden nests, and various ducks managed to stay well out of range of this slow, ponderous potential predator. 

There is a quiet and subtle beauty here in the stillness. The variety of life within the calm water is innumerable. Among the forest, the reeds and cattails, the sedges and water plants are valuable habitat for  microscopic to huge animals such as moose that occasionally wade in to browse the nutrional  underwater plantlife. I love the subtle colour changes dependant upon the sun direction and the maturity of the various plants.

I take time to examine and appreciate the details of rich vibrant colors and patterns of the water lily flower and leaves. 

As I paddle along, I pause to use my binoculars to look for interesting creatures and details on the water's surface. I was fortunate to find this resting Mosaic Danner Dragonfly. I did not notice the creature hidden on the backside of the flower, perhaps trying to avoid the dragonfly's voracious appetite. Another lesson learned for me is to be more observant and to try to notice the details, not just the obvious. All these lessons have been learned many times in the past. I guess practice makes perfect, perhaps someday.

Enjoy the water when you can!!

Frosty Mountain

     As moisture laden clouds disperse from the high peaks we sometimes see hoar frost covered mountains such as this beauty along the Icefields Parkway. I enjoy this scenic drive no matter which season we do it in. Each time reveals different characteristics of this rugged landscape.

     Especially in winter we do have to be aware of road safety issues. This road lies in a trench of the rocky mountains and can get tremendous amounts of snow at one time. I try to monitor the weather predictions ahead of time. A vehicle has to be in good condition, fueled up and have good winter tires to begin. The highway can be bare and dry but shady places or on hills can suddenly become ice covered.

Icefields Parkway

     I am amazed at what some visitors to this area do for a pastime. Skiing or snowshoeing I can see but ice climbing? Certainly not for me but amazing to see.

Beautiful Ice Fall

Ice Climbers.

      I have always found ice to be very brittle so I would not be trusting of metal pegs pounded into ice a few hundred feet above firm ground. Interesting to watch for sure.

     I stand in amazement at the wonders of the Columbia Icefield itself though. It is a beautiful and rugged time machine demonstrating Nature's power and fragility. On this trip a few bighorn sheep graze and nibble at rough plants that have managed to grow on these rocky heights. The height of land at the top of the icefields parkway is the border between Jasper and Banff National Parks.

Rocky Mountain Sheep Grazing at Columbia Icefields

     Less than an hour drive from the top of the icefields, we turn east down the David Thompson Highway toward Kootenay Plains. Here, we leave Banff National Park. Amazingly, there is almost no snow here. It is a natural area that receives little snow each winter that borders on the top of the North Saskatchewan River draining some of the Icefields area. It has been dammed to form Abraham Lake, Alberta's longest man made lake. This area has been used by native people for thousands of years for wintering and hunting are due to its milder climate. It is also a natural grazing region for wildlife to over winter.

Methane Bubbles Trapped in the Ice on Abraham Lake

     I have driven by this lake numerous times over the past several years but never stopped to look at the famous bubbles. Today I gingerly made my way down to the lake to take a look. Good thing for ice cleats on my boots or the wind would have blown me to the far end of the dam. These picks also helped get down to the lake from the steep shoreline. As the dam is drained over the winter, the ice sinks too so caution is advised while wandering around this area. It is beautiful for sure.
   
     Each season should be visited in Jasper, Banff, the Icefield Parkway and the David Thompson Highway regions. It is surely one of Alberta's outdoor wilderness treasures.

Robins Ice Fishing

Robin Ice Fishing with Stickleback

      We have already survived a couple weeks of temperatures approaching -35 this winter but we are now closer to average; this morning -14c. American robins, are very common birds hopping around our landscape in summer but unusual here around the first of February. Instead of hopping across our rain-soaked lawns listening for earthworms in summer, there are several now hopping on the ice of a storm-water lake in Edmonton picking tiny stickleback fish from shallow open water along the shoreline. Also joining the fishing derby are a few magpies.
     Red squirrels are watching from the tops of naked tamarack trees as they feed on new buds and protest my intrusion.

Red Squirrel Chattering Between Bites in a Tamarack Tree

     I am always pleasantly surprised when I can go for a walk in our beautiful city parks and am able to watch and photograph wildlife of surprising nature. A couple nights ago while driving home around midnight a coyote watched my cautious approach then jaywalked behind me.
     Last week my hawk-eyed wife spotted an unusual white bird sitting on a snow-covered wooden fence. I had to do a doughnut and drive back for a second look. A leucistic magpie was enjoying a meal with a more familiar colored black and white magpie. After showing this photo to smarter people than I am, they told me that it could be called an "Imperfect Albino" because it does not have pink eyes. It does have pinkish colored beak and feet as well as very white feathers. Apparently it would require a DNA analysis to be sure if it is an albino 100%.

Leucistic Magpie

     If I'm learning anything and having it pounded into my thick skull is to be sure to pack a camera with me wherever I go. We never know when another of Mother Nature's miracles will spring upon us.

Sheep Hunting With Camera

Flehming Ram

     Besides the spectacular scenery in Jasper, I got to spend four days with Rocky Mountain Sheep during their rut late last fall. I was hoping to get a few shots of head banging but that did not happen. I spent mot of my time with a herd of about 50 animals. There were about a dozen rams of various ages and sizes and I'm pretty sure that they already had their pecking order well established so there was no need to waste any energy on a dominance struggle.
     Sitting quietly upon the side hill among a mixed herd of wild animals and allowing them to do what ever they want to is a feeling like no other. As I first encroached on their pasture, they were very wary of my intentions. I crossed the opening slowly until I found a comfortable place behind a wind-sheltering rock and sat down. Within a few minutes the female sheep were back to feeding, chewing cuds and dodging amorous rams. The rams did not care about me at all; they did care about their sexy ewes.

Cud Chewing Ewe

     I figure that I must be doing a good job when the herd wandered past me within a few feet and some even lay down to comfortably chew cuds. (Wouldn't our lives be better if we had to pause in our busy days to chew our cuds?)
     Trying to figure out the body language of the rutting mountain sheep is another story for study. A ram may be laying down chewing away when suddenly he will get up and march directly to an unsuspecting ewe. She may be grazing calmly and here he comes, head tilted sideways, neck outstretched and lips extended for a sniff of her back end. Sometimes she will jog ahead a few steps but he is persistent. Once he has had a good sniff, he will curl his lips back and inhale her scent. Her taste will let him know how close she is to be ready for breeding. Once he has her figured out, he may pursue other nearby opportunities or strut over to another ram, displaying his dominance. Occasionally he will strike out with a front foot, trying to get the attention of a sheep not taking him seriously.

Ram With Ewes

     For me, the antics of the sheep is very entertaining but it is also a part of my own rejuvenation of spirit. Time spent in such a fine "sit-spot" is medicine as good as any bought in the drug store. Depression seeps away, lungs are re-freshened by this crisp mountain air and worries are forgotten.
     I decided to try a different herd if I could find them early one morning. I drove toward Maligne Lake and saw nothing but tracks on the way there. At the lake, I was the only person left in the whole world, I was sure. I walked down along the shoreline toward a glowing sunrise. I could hear the river babbling behind me but no other sound. I stepped around the corner, out of sight and sound of the running water and sat down. There was no sound happening at all. How often can we find a place today where there is no sound? I was sure that I could hear the sun rise beyond the cloud and mist rising from some still open water. Far off, an owl called a couple times, then nothing again. I was able to make a couple photos of this beautiful place but for me, the silence was as spectacular as the scene lighting up in front of my eyes. Life is good.

Frosty Sunrise on Maligne Lake

Bald Hill                                                                                                                 Robert Scriba

Bald Hill from the top looking south

     Bald Hill is the center piece of a small farming community of Heart Valley, Alberta. At the end of the road to the south is the Bad Heart River and to the north is Kakut Creek. The two watercourses join about five miles to the east to form the point of the "Heart". The wide point of the heart north west of this hill is about five miles in width. As I said to start, this area is a mixed agricultural area. It is to the point of the heart that my grand father from Germany settled in 1927. To the south of this viewpoint is where my Great Grand Parents settled in the same year. That copse at the top right hand side of this photo is the home my Dad lived in after taking over his grand parents homestead. Living this near to Bald Hill made us aware but almost dismissive of it. We took it for granted and did not really think too much about it.

      For some reason lately, I have been wondering, "How tall is Bald Hill?" The land all around this dominant feature of our community seems generally flat but there is a slight slope away from the hill to the creeks. This week while on our Christmas visit to see family and friends, I took my GPS and drove through the country to try to get some accurate figures. Modern technology is a fantastic tool which destroys myths that have been ingrained in our thoughts for most of my lifetime. This hill used to be a treacherous climb on a bicycle for young, adventurous boys. The south side was not too bad but the north side got to be extreme. There used to be only a slight track made by tractors looking for a shortcut to the other side. It was a pair of ruts with a center of prairie grass. If it rained it was impassable. In winter, large snow drifts obliterated this trail. 

     A friend of mine and I once raced our bicycles down the north side. He was braver than I and was ahead until a stick flipped up into his front wheel spokes. I was able to witness a spectacular tumble and had to endure his whining and crying over his broken wrist and damaged bike.

     The top of the hill has never been broken for farming so it is still a well known Saskatoon patch interspersed by native grass, odoriferous silver willow and stunted aspen. It is sometimes used as pasture to a few horses. I wonder if native people ever used this hill as a camping site or hunting outlook?

     My GPS tells me that the east-west road along the south side of the hill is 655 meters elevation. The top of Bald Hill is at 698 meters. The north side road is at 639 meters. This makes the actual height of the hill to be a measly 59 meters or 195 feet. This is about the height of two large spruce trees. Wow, I could have sworn that it was a lot taller but we all know how things seem to shrink as we get older.

     For further info, the range of Saddle Hills, to the south is about 815 meters so about 217 meters taller than Bald Hill. The Bad Heart River is about 60 meters deep so if we inverted Bald Hill and placed it into this creek, it would disappear.

The Smokey River valley to the east is about 154 meters deep.

Bald Hill from the South West

     As I wander through my home community, I'm reminded of how this place has changed in my lifetime. Many families lived and farmed on this land. We used to fill a large school bus to Wanham but there are no kids other than the few at the local Hutterian Colony below the north side of the hill. Individual farmers have been bought out and moved away. I think there is only one or two farmers other than the Colony farming within the drainage of the hill. It was a wonderful place to be raised and live as young boys.

Beaver Has His Wood Stove Fired Up

Water Vapour Rising From Beaver lodge Vent

     Beaver Has His Wood Stove Fired Up this chilly morning. It is -37c at Elk Island National Park this morning, but the sun is shining. It is an optimistic sun. We all think it is much warmer when the sun shines through the ice fog.
     I did not realize that beaver cut firewood as well as food, lodge, and dam material. It is so cold in the park that the beavers have lit their wood stove, as evidenced by smoke rising from the lodge chimney. Every beaver lodge I came across today was smoking. Actually, the vapor we see rising from this beaver lodge is heat escaping through an air vent that the beavers build into their lodges. The vapor is most noticeable on cold days and when backlit by the sun.

Elk Herd Grazing and Browsing

     Ungulates were all out grazing and browsing this morning. A few elk still snuggled warmly in beds but most were up and about. Bison, moose and white-tailed deer were also up and about. None seemed to be out of sorts in any way due to the cold weather.
     I do enjoy being out in the park early in the morning hoping to see wildlife and beautiful landscape. The cold weather adds a bit of drama and tension to the land but life goes on. The cold seems to bother us and our equipment far worse than the wildlife.

Sunrise Star Burst

Cold Feeding Challenges

Fluffy Chickadee

     For the past couple weeks, Albertans have been struggling with a prolonged cold snap. Our outside temperatures have rarely been above -20 degrees and most often been around -30 or colder. Wind chill factor has often felt another 10 degrees of cold. Mother Nature has also blessed us with about a foot or more snow to add to our miseries. Most of us have warm homes or offices to live and work in, but many others are challenged to be working long hours outside. Vehicles and equipment never operate efficiently when it is so cold.

     Even as we struggle in our chilly lives, wildlife also work hard to maintain life and warmth. Each of our winter habitants has various strategies to find food and stay warm during the roughly six months of dark chill. I drove out to a couple of parks in the area to see how some of them are making out.

     Elk Island National Park is a great place to find ungulates during winter. Whether it is snowing or sunny, all have to find food. I selfishly enjoy stormy days for photography even though it is more challenging for the wildlife.

Browsing Moose in Snowstorm

     Moose are no doubt very well adapted to winter weather. Long powerful legs easily propel them through deep snow and over hidden deadfalls. They are very tall and have a long reach enabling them to stretch out for tall, tender willow and aspen twigs. Moose are constantly on the move nipping frozen branches before laying down to chew their cuds. Long dark, coarse guard hairs help shed water and prevent fine inner hair getting wet. Moose have no natural predators in Elk Island Park at this time as the wolves that were here a few years ago were shot by neighbouring ranchers. Bull moose have dropped their antlers by now and will begin growing new ones soon. The bane of moose is ticks. Ticks will be infesting them and we will start to notice bald white patches where hair has been rubbed off to try to relieve itching. Sometimes, hundreds and thousands of ticks will infest one moose and can eventually kill it. Starvation, blood loss, and exposure can be causes of moose mortality due to ticks.

Plains Bison Feeding in Snowstorm

     Bison, often called buffalo, live and are very well adapted to life on the plains and forest of the park. Plains bison use their massive heads and cloven hooves to shovel snow off grassy graze. The front half of their bodies are covered by long, dark brown shaggy fur coats. When the wind howls across open plains they face into the storm for protection. When they lie down to chew their cuds, snow can completely cover their shaggy body providing additional insulation and camouflage. Bison eat only grass and are bothered by no predators in this park. Bison are prolific breeders so Elk Island Park managers send excess animals to other places that want to introduce healthy and pure bison to areas that they have been extirpated from over the past 150 years. Bison from EINP have been sent to Banff and Grasslands National Parks, Russia, and many different states. EINP is home to purebred and disease-free herds of both plains and woodland bison. The two distinct species are kept separated by a fence and the Yellowhead highway.

Feeding is a Challenge

     Wapiti, or more commonly called elk are common in EINP but can be more challenging to find due to their naturally skittish nature. They are browsers and grazers so there is plenty of choice feed for elk. They do have to paw deep snow from grassy graze. Elk don’t seem to be pestered by ticks and since there are no wolves here, they have no natural predators within the fenced park. Elk will drop their antlers within the next month or so and begin to grow a new set immediately after. The dropped antlers of all deer family members provide nutrient-rich food for rodents throughout the coming year.

Bull Elk Bedded Down in Snowstorm

     In East Edmonton, along the North Saskatchewan River lies Hermitage Park. Within this municipal park, bird watchers have placed several feeders filled with seeds and suet to assist many of the winter-hardy birds through this challenging season. Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos, purple finches and Downey woodpeckers are busy collecting seedy meals. Magpies and blue jays are also aggressively choosing favourite seeds. Several Mallard ducks also wander beneath the feeders collecting dropped seeds. The main struggle for the small songbirds is to find safe roosts where they can huddle together out of the wind and snow. They will use woodpecker holes, downed logs or hide in protective branches of evergreen trees. They do have to watch for hungry weasels or house cats and predatory birds such as hawks and owls. If they cannot gather enough food during the day to fuel their small bodies, they will die.

Chilly Blue Jay

     One of the amazing sights I watch in this park happens in one of the storm-drain lakes. For some reason, there are three or four small openings in the ice near the shoreline. There must be small springs or inflows here that attract tiny fish called sticklebacks. Today, several magpies are fishing together with a lone mallard female bobbing in the largest opening. The magpies gather three or four fish in their beaks and fly off to hidden stashes or to eat in peace.

Ice Fishing Magpies

     Some of the birds could fly south to warmer climes for winter but others are confident enough to stay and make a living in this wintery region. Mammals have no choice to migrate from this area. They are all descendants that have survived here since the ice age about 12000 years ago. It gives me great pleasure to be a casual observer of how Mother Nature provides for Her creatures.

Who Landed here?

Robert Scriba