Chattermarks

You would think it wouldn’t work.

First of all, the wolverine is an elusive creature. It inhabits the untrammeled heights of mountain ranges and is rarely seen or documented. So far this season, with ten traps open every day, we’ve captured just one wolverine. We’ve seen few tracks. But still, this winter we’re trying something new—getting photographs of the chests of wolverines. It is an idea only recently pioneered by Audrey Magoun, a wolverine researcher in southeast Alaska. And it is a brilliant idea.

Wolverines, it seems, have variable markings of light fur on their throats and chests. So variable, in fact, that each wolverine, if looked at closely, has a unique chest pattern. And therefore, with the right picture, we could tell them apart. A brilliant idea, truly, but in practice… It would seem that getting any picture of a wolverine would be a lucky convergence of circumstance, but to get a specific picture—a wolverine in a specific pose, well, it seems like wishful thinking. But then again, most great accomplishments start as silly dreams. The credit for the accomplishment of this silly dream lies to the north, with Magoun and her team of field people, who took an idea—getting pictures of wolverine chests—and made it happen. We’ve just followed their lead. But it is still exciting.

» Continue reading Capturing the Cascades wolverine

North Cascades National Park archaeologist, and long-time Institute field instructor and former board member, Bob Mierendorf is prominently featured in an excellent new article just published in Washington State Magazine, published by Washington State University. In “Of Time and Wildness in the North Cascades,” Mierendorf interprets his important work in documenting native presence in the higher elevations of the North Cascades:

Mierendorf has spent the last couple of decades trying to convince the archaeological establishment that pre-contact Northwest Indians did not confine themselves to the lowlands, but lived in the North Cascades and frequented the high country. When Mierendorf first started working at the park, Cascade Pass was one of 17 archaeological sites identified within it. Since then, he has identified nearly 300 more. Forty-five of those sites are located between 4,000 and 7,000 feet.

Obviously, population densities in the mountains were nowhere near what they were along the more hospitable coastal lowlands. Mierendorf argues simply that lower density does not mean absence. An earlier assumption by archaeologists was that Indians actually avoided the mountains, and any contact between coastal and interior tribes was accomplished by traveling along the Columbia Gorge. Mountains were a barrier, not a destination. The idea that prehistoric people crossed the Cascades on foot was simply incomprehensible.

Such an assumption is certainly understandable. The North Cascades is tough country. Even though only two volcanic peaks are higher than 10,000 feet, the deep glacier-carved valleys create dramatic local relief, often as much as 6,000 feet between valley floor and peak.

Alexander Ross, a fur trader with the North West Company, made the first non-Indian crossing of the North Cascades in 1814, from east to west, guided by an Indian. “A more difficult route to travel never fell to man’s lot,” wrote Ross.

So why was the question of the Indians’ presence in the mountains such a mystery? Why didn’t archaeologists just ask the Indians?

This article is a significant contribution to the public’s understanding of the cultural history of the North Cascades, and the Institute is understandably very excited to share it widely. You can read the rest of the article here.

In the next week or so, we’ll be opening registration for our spring and summer programs in the North Cascades, including Mierendorf’s long-running, popular field excursion on Ross Lake that explores the region’s cultural history, from native uses through to miners, fire lookouts and the park service (see photo at top of post). “Ross Lake by Boat and Boot: People and Places of the Upper Skagit” takes place July 22-25, with Captain Gerry Cook piloting the Ross Mule, your floating classroom for this exciting learning adventure. (While we can’t offer registration quite yet, you can send an email to nci@ncascades.org and we’ll let you know as soon as it is open for sign-ups!)

» Continue reading Bob Mierendorf and the pre-history of Cascade Pass

Along the Skagit River, the month of December marks the beginning of an incredible display of interaction among two of western Washington’s most prominent species – eagles and salmon.

The Skagit, whose headwaters begin near Hope, British Columbia, travel by the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center, and end in the estuarine confluence of Skagit Bay southwest of Mt. Vernon, is the Puget Sound’s largest river and second in size only to the Columbia in Washington. All 5 Pacific salmon runs, including sockeye, chum, chinook, pink and coho, reach up along various locations of the Skagit.

With an especially high pink salmon run, an estimated 1.2 million salmon by Washington state fish biologists, along with a current chum spawning run, this season could make for some surprising eagle sights.

» Continue reading In the presence of eagles

Tell me about a path less traveled and I will take it.

In the North Cascades National Park, there is such a plethora of paths to choose from when planning an adventure that it seems so many can become overlooked. On cold winter days, when light is little, I aim to try out these less-traveled paths.

Stetattle Creek trail is one of those paths. Perched on the edge of the Skagit River’s Seattle City Light town of Diablo, it is a short drive from the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center. More often than not, it is bypassed by adventurers in summer aiming to conquer the feat of Sourdough Mountain, the trailheads less than a mile apart from one another. But when snow is heavy on the summits of the tall peaks, Stetattle Creek is a great late fall and early winter jaunt.

» Continue reading A saunter up Stetattle Creek

No longer are the flashes of headlights streaming across the darkened landscape. Sometimes there is moonlight. But when there is no moon, there is always the dark.

Highway 20’s closure in November marks the coming of winter. Temperatures have steadily dropped to near or below freezing both day and night. This past week, the Environmental Learning Center has seen several days of solely sun followed by crisp, star-filled nights. On nights as cold and dark as these, it is easy to stay tucked underneath the comfort of a warm wool blanket, wrapped up in a novel of another world, sipping hot tea.

On nights like these, I find myself desiring to embark into the dark.

» Continue reading To embark into the dark

‘Tis the season of tradition, of woodstove warmth and food made fresh from the comforts of the kitchen. It is the season of giving thanks, of gathering together—to recall memories, to celebrate, to laugh, to eat.

As Thanksgiving fast approaches, I smile with the thought of tradition. Traditions are what help to define us as individuals. Whether or not we chose to continue those of our upbringing or create ones anew, tradition is the essence of this holiday season.

And for the essence of my family, that tradition is food. Good food.

» Continue reading The festive nature of food

I have found that with the oncoming winter ushering in shorter days and enduring rains, I have needed a greater sense of initiative to spend time outdoors naturalizing and experiencing the North Cascades for what it has to offer. It has become increasingly easy to allow myself respite from the day’s bite by spending time indoors with a pot of tea and a growing pile of books and work.

On a recent, clear day, I jumped at the opportunity to don my naturalist gear and head off down the road toward Diablo Dam with the intention of photographing, bird watching, or journaling, whichever happened to catch my interest based on possible encounters. I quickly became engaged in photographing minute details, focusing and framing things that I’ve walked by too often without taking time to notice. The bracken ferns have turned brown and curled through the progression of autumn, and are actually quite beautiful in contrast with green moss and the deepening blue tint of Diablo Lake.

» Continue reading Encounter with a black bear

Each footstep crunching beneath the layers of newly fallen leaves has now transitioned to the soft silence of detritus, and of snow. Autumn’s transition to winter has been a tug of war. At the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center, the snowline has risen and fallen along hillsides like the lapping of waves against a shore. We have been watching, our eyes patient and waiting, the white, wintry callings only a few hundred feet above us for over a month.

This weekend looked promising for powder, with forecasts for the North Cascades to see snow at significantly lower elevations. Like a child during the holidays, I awoke with joy Friday morning, gazing upon fat flakes of frost falling from the sky. It may have been only a minute amount of snow, but its company was welcomed with excitement and an eagerness to go out and play.

» Continue reading A moment of snow

You can feel them approaching. It is a surge of energy, a tidal wave of enthusiasm and wonder, about to overtake this place. The momentary quiet of the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center awaits eagerly the arrival of giggles and shouts, of singing and learning once more. Standing in the parking lot on a Monday or Wednesday afternoon, we, as instructors, can anticipate only so much. Backpacks are stuffed to the brim with daily supplies and previous nights are spent late, preparing for the next day’s activities.

It isn’t about us, though. As students arrive, whether by bus or by car, with gaping grins of glee and eyes wide with wonder, every time a Mountain School tidal wave hits, we are reminded—it is about these students and this place.

» Continue reading This place, through their eyes

It is as simple as taking some time for yourself.

So often are we scheduled from dawn until dusk, moving from meeting to meeting, checking the clock for what event awaits us next. With hardly a moment to breathe, we are already looking past what is in front of us, skimming over what marvels may meet us, on the daily life journeys we lead.

When we make the choice to, for a moment, embark upon a walk, we may find what a walk can truly reveal — about our selves and the world surrounding us.

» Continue reading What a walk can reveal