Nevada - Training and the Colorado River

Flashback Friday!

(This happened way before the Zion story did. this was my first week in Nevada)

    Training week in the Spring Mountains outside Vegas had a lot of 'what did I sign up for' thoughts too it. We were told to meet for training at the Mojave Office outside Vegas. It was small and seemed to be primarily used for desert tortoise internship..things. I don't know exactly other than they tracked the tortoises, that wasn't my project. Anyway, we were told to pack for camping with rain gear and layers, and we all also packed expecting to be in the desert the whole time. After the first day of powerpoints telling us we can't try to get other crewmates to worship the sun or drink alcohol with our logo showing, we were immediately shipped off to a campsite at 6,000 ft altitude in the Spring Mountains for the rest of our training.

Beautiful views and my bloody useless tent

     It seemed fine at first, no cooler than a fine autumn day in Michigan, but I quickly learned that nothing could stop the unrelenting icy wind blowing through my tent and useless sleeping bag. Over the week my tent collapsed on me several times and often I would just leave it. I got no sleep all week and broke down several times. Trying to hide it from my crewmates, I often found myself wandering on paths further up into the mountains to be alone and to try and figure out why I was having such a hard time. At 19, I was the youngest there, but I refused to let age be a factor as it's never stopped me before.

     We, the Great Basin Crew, had our training with the Las Vegas crew. In total, we started with eleven people on the crews and at the end of training, three people had quit. By the end of the summer, two more would join and quit the Vegas crew, but they had a tough gig and had to deal with the butterfly people so I don't really blame them.
      After training week, our employer set up our crew with a nice hotel for one night so that we could shower and have a provided breakfast before finding our own way on the weekend. I woke up there at six am and snuck out of my room into the deserted hallway so I wouldn't disturb the others with my crying. All I could wonder was what was wrong with me? why was I having a hard time? Part of me knew I wasn't at home with the forests so dry and full of dead trees that it seemed as if I was walking through groves of driftwood. Someone from the Vegas crew found me in the hallway and gave me small comfort in that hey, I was still there wasn't I?
      Many of my answers came later that day when the crew decided to hop over to Arizona to cool off in the Colorado river on our first day off. Seeing the water made me inexplicably happy and I raced in, ignoring the painful cobbles on my feet and with out thinking I dived in. The water shocked me, it felt colder than Superior. I broke the surface with a gasp to see that everyone on shore was quiet and staring at me, if I had cared to notice before I would have seen that everyone there only dared to go ankle deep into the icy water. A boom box played somewhere- the only thing filling the silence until I laughed and said, "Oh yeah! I'm from Michigan baby!"
      That's when I realized that I really am from Michigan, I love my lush forests and ever present water. One of my crew mates had scoffed at the people who had quit, saying that it was hard labor in the desert, what did they expect?! That had always stung me as I hadn't known what to expect myself. I knew deserts were hot and dry, but had really only seen pictures, I never imagined I would have such difficulty adjusting to such a harsh environment. I could do all the required 5 miles a day with a 35 lb pack no problem in Michigan, it was just too bad that I had no mountains to practice on.
      What was that saying? I think it was, "How can a fish who's only ever know the current of his own stream ever imagine the vastness of the ocean?"
      Update: I found the full quote, "If a fish lives his whole life in this river, does he know the river's destiny? No! Only that it runs on and on, out of his control. He may follow where it flows, but he cannot see the end. He can not imagine the ocean," (Jeong Jeong). A little more dramatic than what I was going for but I guess I followed my stream and couldn't imagine the desert until I got there.

Mouse House

     In the mouse house, we keep and breed live mice for some of the animals in rehab. Sometimes the animal just eats them better than say soak cat food, other times we are raising something that was orphaned and they need to know how to hunt. We currently have four fox kits that need to learn this, and a great blue heron that also needs live mice. I was sent to the mouse house to get 12 live mice for them.

     Catching them from their fish tanks was not easy, and I slid them down a cardboard tube to contain them. I had fed live mice to things before and had joked with the cardboard tube of mice, "If I cast the killing curse with this, would the mice inside die or would they be the murderers?" This time I had more guilt as the chooser of the slain. I do not envy the Morrigan or the Valkyries. One did manage to wiggle his way onto the floor and feeling that he had earned his triumph I let him go, then I dropped two more and said, "sorry guys only one free pass." But then four escaped the heron's enclosure so I had to go back for more and this time put them in the bucket.

     All of my guilt however dissipated when we let loose the eight mice into the fox kit's enclosure and stayed to make sure they hunted. one of them wiggled out of his burrow and joyously pounced on the mice, throwing them into the air and killing them. It was absolutely adorable and I was so proud. I silently tried to compare it to humans, in that maybe supervillain moms feel a slight twinge of guilt at choosing the things for their child to practice slaying but probably have this same happy moment, knowing their kids will be able to make it someday in the wild. I then decided for the 8th time, that day, that I probably shouldn't have kids.

Germany - Castle Ruins

Flashback Friday!

      I have been to Germany twice now, once for a month as an exchange student when I was 16, and again for six weeks when I was 18. Both times I visited with my exchange sister, Emma, the castle in Muizenberg. (probably completely butchered the spelling of the name but Google isn't being helpful right now.) This Castle is in complete ruins and is a hell of a lot of fun to climb on.

      The Images on the right were when we were 16, and I really miss that purple sweater. I think someone in my Gym class the next year stole it. On a separate part of the castle, I learned how flexible I was when I was running down the side of the wall and sidestepped my foot, putting full force onto my bent ankle instead of my foot. Not wanting my Emma's mother to worry, I played it cool, sat for a minute until the pain dulled a bit and then walked it off.
      Climbing actual rock walls was a lot more fun than going rock climbing on an artificial
rock wall. The hand and foot holds were much larger and it was easier to climb. It was by no means safer though. That's the cool thing about Germany: people don't have to worry about getting sued for obvious 'at your own risk' activities. In America, I'm sure the whole place would be off limits, or I don't know, destroyed for more condos like everything else here.
      The second time we went when we were 18 (me with short purple hair this time). There were a bunch of kids with foam swords and hats pretending to be dragons, knights, and princesses. It was one of the few times I didn't mind kids as it made me happy to see them able to unplug and have fun with their imaginations just like I did in the woods behind our house with my older sister.

     This time Emma and I also tried to practice more par-core tumbles, with moderate success. We started first just doing it on the grass then Emma tried doing it off a short wall. I, however, lamed out as even in both of our inexperienced states, she had more practice than me. Their gym classes actually have a portion of the class where you do par-core on practice mats and I am still insanely jealous. Needless to say, we were both very sore the next day. Actually, a lot of things that we got up to we were sore the next day. Maybe it should be a saying, "If you're not sore the next day, you weren't really up to any shenanigans." ...or something. I don't know, I think I'm just rambling now so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead. Happy Friday!  

That Squirrel.

      Remember that spinal Injury squirrel that I was talking about in my Lost and Found blog post? Well, he's a little shit. His daily cleaning and feeding chart reports that he has gotten out almost every day and on a few days someone has just written "insane."
      So I found a good method for cleaning his cage where I catch him in a net first and then clean his cage. this worked perfectly the first day I tried it and I was way too proud of myself. I had let four other squirrels out that day, but I had caught them all within 10 minutes of them escaping, and it wasn't that spinal injury squirrel so according to everyone else I had accomplished something. Goals.
      My victory over the insane squirrel, however, was short lived as the next day when I was putting the squirrel back, his foot got stuck in the net. As I reached in with a leather-gloved hand, he immediately clung to my hand and started biting harder than any other animal who'd bitten me. Honestly, I think his life-force is fueled by spite. He moved up my arm and bit where the glove stopped, then with his foot still stuck jumped out of the cage to my other hand that just had a latex glove and bit that too. I shoved him and the net back in the cage and ran to our bathroom and scrubbed my hands with soap, then iodine, then soap again and used a crap ton of band-aids to cover it all up because you do not want exposed flesh wounds in an animal clinic. I was just fine until someone started fussing over me and asking if I was okay and then my brain went shit I need to panic and I cried a bit. I did some more work, then filled out an incident report and was told by my supervisor's supervisor to take the rest of the day off and to get a tetanus shot.
       The first walk-in clinic I went to laughed at me and the nurse at the front desk told me, "We can't just give you a tetanus shot." as if it was the holy grail she continued, "You have to have all these forms and authorization to treat and workers comp..." and she looked at me very definitively like I needed to leave and as I did so they laughed at me even more and that's when I went and cried in my car while texting my supervisor. She informed me that as an unpaid intern that I counted as a volunteer and did not qualify for workers comp, instead, they were just going to pay the co-pay of whatever the insurance didn't cover.
       I then drove to a different clinic that had much more friendly and willing to help staff and the whole place looked brighter too. The nurse and doctor all laughed with me at my crazy squirrel story and it was a great experience.

       I still love working at the clinic and couldn't ask for better co-interns and nicer supervisors, I still want to look into going into zoology. I'm not mad at the squirrel or anything, he was just being a squirrel.....and all of this was still better than waiting tables and dealing with people.

Nevada - Getting Lost in Zion

Flashback Friday!

      First, I  know Zion is in Utah, but for the most part, I was living out of my car in Nevada, so that's what I refer to events in my life as while I was in the conservation corps out there.
 
      The weekend before fourth of July, my crew from Great Basin NP met another crew that was employed by the forest service in Ely, Nevada at a Redneck Bathtub Boat Racing Festival at Cave Lake State Park. The Ely crew invited us to go backpacking with them in Zion over fourth of July weekend, three from the Ely crew, and three from my crew went.
     The next weekend we met the other crew out there and they, along with one from my crew went backpacking while (let's call her Amy) and I hung out separately around the park because our job was hard labor in the mountains for 10 hours a day and we wanted a break.
      Saturday I explored and found just how beautiful the park was. Around 2ish I was about to bite into this giant burger I got from the lodge cafe on some nice soft grass when I got a text from Amy. Essentially, the other people were backpacking up the 7-mile trail to the campsite Saturday and then going the rest of the three miles the next day and Amy was like hey why don't we just go up the three miles to meet them at the campsite, I agreed three miles seemed reasonable. I wrapped the rest of my burger in a bandanna and headed to meet up with Amy.
      We packed enough supplies for one night and decided to cowboy camp it, leaving our tents in the car.  Amy and I thought we were prepared for a nice quick hike, except that we accidentally went five miles instead of three. The biting flies were horrendous, and I had never seen cheerful, happy Amy so pissed off when she was at these flies. We were on the trail for probably the first mile, but then we saw the first backpacking campsite that was not on the trail but a little ways off. We, having difficulty following the trail and not knowing that the campsite wasn't actually on the trail walked straight up an old dried up riverbed, hauling ourselves over boulders, and desperately following the footprints of some unfortunate souls who had apparently made the same mistake. It was a hard hike/climb with our packs in the unrelenting heat of 5pm.
      At one point I hear the rattle of a snake ahead where Amy is and her scream "SHIT!" Followed by the sound of her scrambling away and she called back to me "don't come here there's a rattlesnake!" I then proceeded to go exactly where the rattlesnake was and she screamed at me to move, she could see it under a rock. I hastily hauled myself up the side of the gully to get away, acquiring many more impressive scratches and bruises in the process.
      Eventually, the canyon walls got higher and we decided it might be best to find a way out. The footprints agreed and led us to a spot where we could climb up the wall without too much difficulty. Once on top of the canyon, the view was amazing, we also saw some people on the opposite canyon wall and together we screamed "MARCO!" They replied with POLO echoing across the canyon. We yelled that we were lost, and they replied that they had found the trail, apparently they were the footprints we had been following. We hurried up to the next empty backpacking campsite to meet up with one from their group who showed us where we needed to go.
      We finally made it to the campsite as everyone else was settling down to boil water on a tiny camp stove for instant Spanish rice and ramen. we sat in a circle and talked, I pulled out my giant hamburger to finally chow down and everyone looked at me with envy. As if I had a comical gag bag they asked if I had more when I did not. The angry jerk (as I later learned) of the Ely crew pulled out a board game from his pack called 'Who's Hitler?' It was actually more fun than it sounds. It was essentially Mafia or Werewolf, but with more strategy and less random lynching...And with slightly more Hitler.
       As the sun started to set, we sat on some boulders along a canyon wall and watched the breathtaking colors of the earth be illuminated one last time as the stars slowly came out. Someone on the Ely crew pulled out an Orange Fanta bottle filled with an odd brownish liquid. They passed it around all taking a sip and when it came to me I remember thinking wow this is really weird ice tea. Then I took my sip and thought wow, this is not ice tea. That was the first time I tried fireball whiskey. We each had just a bit before it was gone, and we each found a spot to fall asleep on the warm desert ground, wrapped in our blankets under the bright stars.
      I slowly opened my eyes the next morning, for once enjoying the cool, peace and quiet of the desert instead of struggling in the sweltering heat. I heard the loud helicopter sound of a humming bird nearby who came into sight, hovered over the girl from the Ely crew, Dylan, for a moment and flew away. I had seen a lot of humming birds out here, often in the morning or when I was board they'd show up and I'd wander off after them, always leading me to something interesting. After it flew off, the girl woke up and I said, "Hey you just had a hummingbird above your head." She replied, "really? I had always wondered if they were my spirit animal." This struck a chord with me, and I tucked it away for later.
     The rest of the camp was starting to get up now and roll up their bed mats. I reached in my pack to find my breakfast and the other guy from the Ely crew gave me a warning glare and said, "I swear if you pull out a fucking breakfast burrito..." I pulled out a small packet of oatmeal before he finished the sentence and he nodded before looking away.
I laughed internally.
      We all hiked down the correct trail that Amy and I were supposed to originally go up, and I have to say, it was a great trail! beautiful views, less biting flies, no rattlesnakes, and an actual trail. We got back to the cars then headed to the tourist town of Zion for coffee and a real breakfast. The same group headed off to go on another longer backpacking trip, and Amy and I did our own thing. She hung out in the tourist town, and I went to go hike the Narrows.
      The Narrows are a narrow canyon bottom carved by the Virgin River. It was insanely crowded and I wanted to make it at least as far up as it would take to leave the large crowds behind. It was absolutely thrilling, and the water reminded me of my home in Michigan which I sorely missed.
      The park had made some money renting out weird socks, special hiking shoes and walking sticks to people to help them navigate the river. I had plenty of confidence, using my Merrell Minimalist shoes in place of water shoes, and my whole childhood of experience wading up rocky rivers. It was some of the most fun I had had out west, and it reminded me of the lower Tahquamenon Falls and Pictured Rocks back home.
      I laughed to myself at the pleasure of feeling cool water on a hot day once again, and at everyone else who was out of their element when I for once felt at home. Big strong guys with their shirts off complained that it was like walking on

bowling balls before falling in as I confidently strode by them. Seeing this an older guy with biker tattoos nodded at me as I went passed and I felt like a badass.
     The Narrows was one of the most beautiful places that I had the pleasure of visiting out west, and I hope that I will get back to explore again someday. I think in all I spent about four hours in the Narrows, and still it seemed to short a time before I had to march back.

Amanda's Opossum

      My friend Amanda found a baby opossum on the side of the road, and through some person, it made its way to the clinic where I work. Amanda when she next saw me told me to say hi to her opossum for her and I said that we had a crap ton of opossums and I'd have no idea which was hers. (by crap ton I mean we have 20% more than our record high of last year) I privately concluded that I would just say hi to all 150 of them for her. They'd probably like the love, or I don't know maybe just hiss because they're opossums and can be ungrateful teenagers.
      This became unnecessary when I needed to go to the bathroom one day (which is no longer full of fawns), which is also our storage closet and when I pull down my pants to sit down I look up at the tall metal cabinet across from me and at the top where the slightly open doors barely meet, is a fucking baby opossum. Seven feet up, no clue how it got there, I hurriedly pulled my pants back up and grabbed the opossum taking it back to where all the babies were kept in baskets. To our count though, all the opossums were accounted for so I put him in a basket that was labeled 'found this one in the laundry, don't know where it goes,' and put an additional note saying, 'the smaller one was found in the bathroom.'
      When I went back to the bathroom to actually use it this time, I thought oh my god it's a sign, that has got to be Amanda's opossum. I said hi and told him he's probably not bouncy enough for aerial stunts.

Hallucinating Opossums

      At the clinic, it is required for us to work three 8-hour shifts a week. I usually do mine in consecutive days to save time for my other internship and at the time that I signed up for my shifts, it just seemed efficient. Though, it seems that for the three days that I am working there, I eat, sleep and breath animals and it has truly gotten to my subconscious.

      Last night around 3am I gained just enough consciousness to realize that I really needed to pee. I normally sleep with my fluffy cat cuddled on the pillow next to my head, though in my still dreamscape ruled state, all I could manage to think was, 'wow this is a really nice opossum, he's not hissy at all and is so much softer than usual!' and I pet him a few times, before I decided that I really did have to pee. I then proceeded to edge my way off the bed as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb the bedding or move anything as I was convinced that on the other half of my queen sized bed that I did not sleep on was an array of baby animals in their baskets trying to sleep peacefully. I swear I saw all of the cages so clearly that I could paint a picture. 

     When I got back from the bathroom I could not figure out if there actually were or were not cages on my bed, so I snuck back in the same way just to be safe and went back to cuddling with my opossum. It was tangible, I could prove it was there. Though I must admit that a grown opossums willingness to cuddle should be a sure tip-off that I am hallucinating over-romanticized wildlife.

The After Hours Squirrel

      Approximately three hours after the clinic had closed and we had long stopped taking animals, the two other interns and I discovered that the front door hadn't been locked when a pair of older women came in with a cat litter pail. The three of us walked out of the infirmary into the lobby and the women with the pail said they had found a squirrel under a tree being circled by birds. None of us moved, we were caught like a deer in the headlights. Or four fawns in a bathroom. Eventually, I spoke, realizing that neither of the others were going too, I tried to say that we were closed, we had stopped taking animals hours ago, and we were just interns and were not trained yet in how to intake anything that wasn't just orphaned. The women replied that they both had cats and dogs at home and that the squirrel wouldn't last the night there, so they had planned on leaving the squirrel on the porch- right under the "don't leave animals on the porch where predators can get them, come back in the morning" sign. realizing that we had to just do our best, and one of the other interns grabbed the mammal intake form while the other intern and I took the squirrel into the exam room.
     The squirrel was alive, alert, awake, and enthusiastic to bite a finger. We had all done standard intakes before, and I had watched a supervisor assess a blue jay with the same type of injury a few weeks before. The squirrel indeed had a lower spinal injury, it's back legs and tail were limp. I remembered the pain killer we had used on the jay, and according to the chart, it was good for mammals too. Seeing that the other interns weren't moving to do anything I picked up the squirrel and told someone to put the basket on the scale and tare it so it could be weighed for the proper dose. I filled out all the observation paperwork and then called our supervisor who had long since gone home to double check that I was correct about the medicine. She affirmed I should use Medacam and told me the standard dose for an adult red squirrel. I remembered how the other supervisor had prepared the syringe for the blue jay and did the same thing. With another intern holding the feisty guy in two gloved hands, I was able to give him the painkiller, and we could put him in a proper enclosure.
     I had tried to tell that women that we were just interns, that I didn't know what I was doing.
     I guess I lied.

Lost and Found

     We have an animal that escapes from its cage at least once a day. Usually, we fail to find it right after the initial escape and we just have to make sure that we spread the word of, 'oh, by the way, there's a fox squirrel out in the raptor room somewhere.' I'd clean the cage out anyway and mark on their paperwork that today he got out. The next day I'd come in, and check the paperwork had an encouraging "found" written on it. Since then, this specific squirrel has been lost and found at least three times now. That's teamwork people. Update: According to his paperwork he apparently has a spinal injury, but he seems fucking fine to me. 2nd more honest update: I accidentally let him out again today, though it was less a sneaking out and more of him flinging himself at my face as soon as I cracked the door open.
       I've also learned that too late that you must check the dirty laundry bins for hiding escaped animals, as on my second day I had no Idea that there was a juvenile opossum lose and loaded a pile of scrubs into the wash. I only found him after I was moving it into the dryer and my supervisor commented, ''wow that's a clean opossum," and, "at least we know where the third one is now." I had some moral guilt over this but decided to tell everyone about it so they could learn from my mistakes because that's teamwork too. Now everyone knows to check laundry before washing it, and it has saved the life of many an opossum.
      I have only encountered one animal that has been smart enough to know that yes, he could escape, but his cage was where the food was so he might as well go back. I walked into the songbird/squirrel room one morning only to come to a halt, trapped in a frozen staring contest with a large grey squirrel tensely perched on top of his cage. I didn't move, and slowly she went back into his cage for a peanut, and I closed the cage behind him whereupon I discovered how loose the door was and that he was just kicking the door open to escape. I put some clothespins on the door to prevent further shenanigans and told everyone I saw what happened and not to remove the clothespins. Somehow, someone didn't get the memo and went, 'why the hell are these here?' and kept removing said clothespins. We may have some great teamwork, but sometimes it just feels like we are breaking down from the inside.

Squeaky Clean

    The older women who volunteer at the clinic on Sunday mornings "Just don't do squirrels." One is afraid of letting them out, and the other is afraid of getting bitten, so, on my first Sunday I rolled up my sleeves to clean the adult squirrel cages myself. I had only dealt with the baby's until then, who are very nice, don't bite, and yes, they're still crazy and might suck each other's penises if they don't think you fed them enough, but they don't have sex when you try to clean the cage.

     Squirrel sex sounds like two dog squeaky toys are rapidly being pushed together over and over, honestly, the only thing that hints that its animal's not squeaky toys is the occasional high pitched growling. This, as you may imagine, can be very distracting when trying to get out old bedding from underneath them. So if you ever find yourself in this situation, I suggest throwing some shelled peanuts at them, as I have learned that squirrels will immediately stop hooking up for a snack break. This brings to mind the goals of all living things- to reproduce and to save/obtain energy. Obviously, one of these is more important than the other, these are life lessons here people.