June & July.
From pines to palms, mountains to beaches, waterfalls to waves. My scabs fade to scars. The past two months I found myself in a place where there are more trees than people. Now I find myself in a place where cement homes are painted in pastels. Hello Englewood, Florida. Only minutes away from the ocean, after 2 days I have gained back my energy to explore. Ocean adventures soon to follow. Everglades are on my Sunday agenda. I'm visiting my dad here, and on Wednesday Matthew and I will start our adventures back to Michigan in my smooth 98 Volvo S70 GLT.
Jump back.
It's not easy finding a 7 gram bat in a National Forest. First you have to catch the bat. Jamming 4-12 meter net across a creek, a trail or a dirt road is a good start. Up your odds by setting up a few of these and checking them every 8 minutes from 20:45 to 0:30 or later. Sometimes the bears delay you. or thunderstorms. or rocky terrain. Some nights, 0 bats. Other nights 20+ bats. Some nights 0 endangered Indiana Bats. Other nights when you are short on help, you'll catch 17 of them.
Now you have the bat and need a way to track it. First though- identify. sex. reproductive state. age. weigh. measure. tissue sample. hair sample. wing condition. white nose syndrome??? ID band. key species: Indiana and Northern Long-eared Bats. Apply transmitter! It gets glued to the back. Usually they keep it on for a few days before they wiggle it off.
Sometime after midnight, take the nets down, pack things up. Drive back to base. Or on a perfect night, climb in your tent. Unperfect night, drive the Tail of the Dragon at 1am. Nothing says motion sickness like 318 curves in 11 miles in an F-250. Keys please!
wash off poison ivy oils. check for ticks. you probably have at least one lurking. yup.
fall asleep to the songs of the frogs, the creek, the whip-poor-wills, a thunderstorm. pure relaxation.
Wake up to new chigger bites. new things to scratch. Breakfast-- oatmeal or granola with fruit. pack lunch- pbj, food bars, apple, nuts. lots of water.
receiver, antenna, topo maps, compass, gps. camera, rain jacket, dry bag. and more. Listen to the sounds of static in the back of the Tacoma. Listen for that beep, our bat. Keep holding that arm up high, back and forth on either side of the forest with the antenna. beep. beep. Was that it? Hit the side of the truck. She halts to a stop. Listen carefully, again. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Out of the truck. Which way is stronger? North v. South. East v. West. inbetween. Find the degrees. Find our location. Find that on a map. draw a line. Wish that you could just follow that line and find her. But you see a drain, and lots of ridges bouncing our signal. We need more points. Drive or hike to high points. Narrow forest roads. Trees have fallen across the way. Try to triangulate. Climb to the top of a ridge. Great. Sounds like she's on the other ridge. Climb down and then up the other one. BEEP. BEEP. the signal is stronger. The thunder is also closer. Was that lightening? No worries, it's not like you have a huge metal rod in your hand. oh, wait. How far away is the trail? Let's just keep going, it's gotta be just up this ridge. Looks like we are at the top, no wait, it goes further up. Still no bat, no tree. Keep hiking.
We hike and hike and hike. Sometimes we find the bat in the tree and can find a couple of trees for her. Sometimes we find ourselves on our knees, rummanging through leaf litter, finding the equivalent of a $100 bill. Sometimes we find nothing except everywhere that she's not.
Off of the trails, over an hour deep into the forest, climbing up ridges, through drains, slope after slope. Crossing creeks, trying to not slip on the rocks. The view from the top. The sights along the way. The fungi, the insects, the trees. the decaying matter. the way the sun filters through the canopy. The stoned vireo proclaiming where he is, asking where you are over and over again. The Pileated Woodpecker laughing at you. Tbe copperhead lurking, equally afraid. you see bear tracks. and bear scat, but they have alredy smelled your scent and are nowhere to be seen. Unless they have been ruined by humans and await your arrival in hopes of your peanut butter and jelly. "Do Not Feed the Bears" it's not a joke. Your sandwhich is their death.
...to be continued
Jump back.
It's not easy finding a 7 gram bat in a National Forest. First you have to catch the bat. Jamming 4-12 meter net across a creek, a trail or a dirt road is a good start. Up your odds by setting up a few of these and checking them every 8 minutes from 20:45 to 0:30 or later. Sometimes the bears delay you. or thunderstorms. or rocky terrain. Some nights, 0 bats. Other nights 20+ bats. Some nights 0 endangered Indiana Bats. Other nights when you are short on help, you'll catch 17 of them.
Now you have the bat and need a way to track it. First though- identify. sex. reproductive state. age. weigh. measure. tissue sample. hair sample. wing condition. white nose syndrome??? ID band. key species: Indiana and Northern Long-eared Bats. Apply transmitter! It gets glued to the back. Usually they keep it on for a few days before they wiggle it off.
Sometime after midnight, take the nets down, pack things up. Drive back to base. Or on a perfect night, climb in your tent. Unperfect night, drive the Tail of the Dragon at 1am. Nothing says motion sickness like 318 curves in 11 miles in an F-250. Keys please!
wash off poison ivy oils. check for ticks. you probably have at least one lurking. yup.
fall asleep to the songs of the frogs, the creek, the whip-poor-wills, a thunderstorm. pure relaxation.
Wake up to new chigger bites. new things to scratch. Breakfast-- oatmeal or granola with fruit. pack lunch- pbj, food bars, apple, nuts. lots of water.
receiver, antenna, topo maps, compass, gps. camera, rain jacket, dry bag. and more. Listen to the sounds of static in the back of the Tacoma. Listen for that beep, our bat. Keep holding that arm up high, back and forth on either side of the forest with the antenna. beep. beep. Was that it? Hit the side of the truck. She halts to a stop. Listen carefully, again. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Out of the truck. Which way is stronger? North v. South. East v. West. inbetween. Find the degrees. Find our location. Find that on a map. draw a line. Wish that you could just follow that line and find her. But you see a drain, and lots of ridges bouncing our signal. We need more points. Drive or hike to high points. Narrow forest roads. Trees have fallen across the way. Try to triangulate. Climb to the top of a ridge. Great. Sounds like she's on the other ridge. Climb down and then up the other one. BEEP. BEEP. the signal is stronger. The thunder is also closer. Was that lightening? No worries, it's not like you have a huge metal rod in your hand. oh, wait. How far away is the trail? Let's just keep going, it's gotta be just up this ridge. Looks like we are at the top, no wait, it goes further up. Still no bat, no tree. Keep hiking.
We hike and hike and hike. Sometimes we find the bat in the tree and can find a couple of trees for her. Sometimes we find ourselves on our knees, rummanging through leaf litter, finding the equivalent of a $100 bill. Sometimes we find nothing except everywhere that she's not.
Off of the trails, over an hour deep into the forest, climbing up ridges, through drains, slope after slope. Crossing creeks, trying to not slip on the rocks. The view from the top. The sights along the way. The fungi, the insects, the trees. the decaying matter. the way the sun filters through the canopy. The stoned vireo proclaiming where he is, asking where you are over and over again. The Pileated Woodpecker laughing at you. Tbe copperhead lurking, equally afraid. you see bear tracks. and bear scat, but they have alredy smelled your scent and are nowhere to be seen. Unless they have been ruined by humans and await your arrival in hopes of your peanut butter and jelly. "Do Not Feed the Bears" it's not a joke. Your sandwhich is their death.
...to be continued