Lemhi Mountains

Idaho has some beautiful mountain ranges.  I would like to introduce you to the Lemhi Mountains.  They run north-south and are Idaho's longest mountain range not bisected by a road passable by a highway vehicle.  The Lemhis contain Idaho's second-highest peak, Diamond Peak.  When the Lewis and Clark Expedition crossed the continental divide they were greeted by a view of range upon range of rugged, snow-capped mountains.  The Lemhis were in the foreground.

Sacagawea called the Lemhi Mountains home, and she literally danced for joy when she saw these familiar peaks.  When this area is added to the National Wilderness Protection System, as well it should be, it is my hope that this be designated as the Sacagawea Wilderness to honor one of our nation's most famous women.

Many of the peaks in the Lemhis are over 10,000 feet in height, some remain unnamed.  This is the view from Lem Peak, looking south at sunrise.

The evening before, the sun had set in the west long before I reached my high-elevation campsite.

On the way back down, I descended from the stark realm above treeline to the realm of springs and seeps where vegetation gains a foothold on this rocky planet.  Mountains always remind me of the fragility of life, and that the zone where life can get a foothold and thrive is not exhaustive.

At the southern end of the range wildflowers bloom, like this penstemon.

It was here that I saw my first Lark Sparrow.  This sparrow is elegant and unmistakable with a single spot in the center of a clean breast, and a bold chestnut facial pattern.

The Lemhis contain Idaho's only natural arch.

There is a narrow slit canyon as well.

While involved with the conservation effort for this beautiful landscape I had the opportunity to speak with some of the local residents.  One rancher said to me, "We just want it to stay like it is."  Though the opinion expressed was intended to convey opposition to Wilderness designation, it struck me that Wilderness designation is the best way to assure this national treasure remains "like it is" for future generations.

Early one morning, at dawn, the airplane I was in climbed toward 32,000 feet and passed just south of the Lemhi Mountains.  Here they are, in all their glory, with the Continental Divide to the east.  This is fault-block mountain building, plate tectonics at work.

Wilderness designation for the Lemhi Mountain Range of Idaho is my primary unfinished lifetime goal.  The opposition to Wilderness designation is largely philosophical, based on principle, not fact.  There are no proven mineral reserves.  There is very limited grazing in these high, brushy peaks.  The thin line of slow-growing trees represent some of the poorest, least-productive forests in Idaho.  If you were seeing this view at night, there would not be lights of civilization below.  This is some of the best wildlife habitat remaining in Idaho.  Herds of pronghorn travel the valleys and salmon spawn in the rivers.

This is about as wild, rugged, and majestic an American landscape as exists in the lower 48 states.  It is protected only by remoteness, but as civilization encroaches on the last frontiers it is threatened by unrestrained off-road motor vehicle use.  I do not deny that this is a beautiful place to ride a dirt bike or ATV.  But, I have seen the lasting damage to soils and vegetation caused by the irresponsible behavior of uncaring thrill-seekers.  The Forest Service has worked to rehabilitate some of the damage I brought to their attention, calling the situation "appalling."  Suffice it to say that there is a "sport" in Idaho that consists of driving a 4-wheel drive vehicle through wet meadows (called "mudding") and up steep hillsides (called "hillclimbs").  The destruction to the landscape is indeed appalling.  These mountains deserve better.

Taunton River Sunset Memories

Across the road from where my parents live, down the hill and through the Gordon Cemetery, is the Taunton River.  It is a tidal estuary.  It is beautiful to visit anytime, but sunset is particularly enjoyable.  On this visit I tried not only to capture realistic images, but also to use this water as paint for my digital canvas.

I admit to some frustration as I look at the incredible wealth of fantastic images existing in today's digital world.  It seems there is nothing new under the sun, nothing that has not been photographed, and everything has been photographed very well.  To create something new is a challenging endeavor, and I'm redoubling my effort.

not birds

When Cyndi read my last post she commented that I had failed to mention the glorious weather and the fun times we had together. Mea culpa. I get so excited to see a "new" bird that other things get ignored. In this case, "new" meant "first time seen in Idaho." We are also keeping track of birds that we see in Idaho in 2010, and honestly, having so many things to track is getting to be more than I want to have to remember. Maybe I'll just watch for birds I've never before seen, anywhere, as my highest priority. It would make things easier and less stressful. And I don't think birding should be stressful.

In this photo Cyndi is not seeing any birds. I wonder why there are no birds in the pond? Where could they all be? Let's not tell her that there are some birds behind her!

We do see more than just birds. A few weeks ago we saw a pair of mink down by the Boise River.

When I went out in search of the Northern Shrike I could not help but notice that spring is arriving. The groundhog predicted more winter, but I think the groundhog was incorrect for Idaho ... the pussywillows are budding.

And Saturday was so warm I didn't even wear my coat ... just a hooded sweatshirt. What a joy to imagine the warmth of summer approaching. We enjoyed a picnic outdoors, on Saturday at the Ted Trueblood Wildlife Management Area with Bald and Golden Eagles nearby and a kettle of Ravens, Northern Harrier and a Red-tailed Hawk all sharing a rising thermal together. Our Sunday picnic was in the Snake River Canyon, listening to a singing Canyon Wren.

On Saturday we also saw this Skunk. Mostly I'm looking at the birds, but if somebody comes by, I snap a photo if I can.

And, on each of our expeditions we stayed out until the rosy colors of sunset warmed the sky and often reflected in the water. It can be hard to get me to go home on a fine day of birding, but the onset of darkness helps me to quit for the day.

I do get lost in the moment and forget that I'm hungry or tired when outside enjoying nature. Though birds currently get most of the attention of my camera (it used to be wildflowers), I do notice other things with my peripheral vision, and that makes the experience complete.

Sunset Serenade

Last week I just had to enjoy a visit to the enchanting spot where Daggett Creek flows into Mores Creek. The rain has melted the snow here in my yard, but with that slight elevation gain as I drive up into the Boise Mountains comes a return to winter. An iced-over river, some sunset glow reflected between dark evergreen shapes, and in the middle of it all a vibrant, bubbling song.

And, there, on a rock where Daggett Creek flows into Mores Creek sits a Dipper, alternately singing and preening in the sunset light.

Night Sky

Tonight was one of those times that the night sky presents a unique and beautiful view. The crescent moon appeared very close to the planets Jupiter and Venus at sunset. The unlit side of the moon could be clearly seen against the backdrop of the deep blue heavens. A few wisps of clouds hinted at the colorful sunset that was still fading from view as the gloaming encroached.