Chaparral Wisdom
To celebrate the magic and beauty of Nature & the chaparral
Wildflowers 2017 – More than a Superbloom at the Carrizo Plain
Having spent a good amount of time alone in the wilderness, I relish the chance to connect with nature without distractions. But this time, this year’s Superbloom, was a time to share nature’s connections with others. The people we met and the conversations we had with so many who were inspired by the millions of native plants smiling in flowers across the landscape, reminded us that together we can both enjoy and protect the wild that is left in this world.
Our first adventure experiencing the Superbloom was on the Carrizo Plain, a lonely valley bordered by the coastal range to the west (adjacent to San Luis Obispo), and the Tremblor Range to the east (which slowly descends into the San Joaquin Valley and the little oil town of Taft).
Here is a small taste of the flavors we enjoyed.
LAKE PHACELIA
The wild of the Carrizo, however, was not easy to protect, as evidenced by past tragedy documented in an excellent article by Matt Kettmann.
Soon after the monument was created in 2001 (by President Clinton), 13-year BLM veteran Marlene Braun was named manager. Having been stationed in Alaska and Nevada, the workaholic Braun finally felt at home on the Carrizo, and took intense pride in protecting it. She scaled back grazing on sensitive grasslands and began developing the monument’s first management plan, which would phase out long-term livestock permits. Every agency signed on, even the BLM’s California office. Then, in March 2004, the Bush administration—which was critical of Clinton’s last-minute monument designations—appointed Ron Huntsinger as Braun’s supervisor in BLM’s Bakersfield field office. With marching orders to favor ranching over preservation and “fix this plan,” Huntsinger and Braun became immediate enemies. The two butted heads repeatedly, so much so that in May 2005, Braun—who had also been dealing with her own psychological demons—arranged her personal affairs and wrote a few important letters about her fears for the Carrizo. She then took a .38 caliber revolver, killed her two dogs—neatly placing their bodies under a quilt—and turned the gun on herself.
Braun’s suicide shocked the region, resulted in a federal investigation, and eventually led to Huntsinger’s transfer. The management plan was the fourth casualty. “The whole process imploded. It collapsed,” explained Neil Havlik, who was named to the monument’s advisory committee when it was created in 2002. “It was finally decided that the process should start all over again.”
The full story can be found here:
http://www.newtimesslo.com/cover/2544/saving-the-silence/
And the fight continues to protect this natural jewel as the current administration in Washington DC is now questioning the continued existence of the Carrizo Plain National Monument.
Native Shrublands: Past, Present, and Future
It is interesting to think about what natural California was like in the past, and sobering to consider its future. Below are several photos that will offer a few point/counterpoints when discussing how to treat the nature we have left.
The loss of native shrublands has likely been significant over the past thousand years or so, due first to Native American burning, then over-grazing and burning by Spanish and Mexican ranchers, followed by American ranchers and farmers. Non-native weeds and grasses found these heavily disturbed environments ready to colonize.
Although we do not have accurate records of what California’s landscape looked like prior to the arrival of humans, we do have images that record our impact prior to the massive development in the 20th century.
Mission Valley, 1890s, and the old San Diego Mission. Note denuded hills in the background and the rocky earth in the foreground, likely the result of excessive over-grazing, fire, and wood collecting. Hwy 163 now goes through the gap in the hills on the left.
Mission Valley, 2008. Note the recovery of native vegetation on the hills in the background as compared to the first photo. The mission is obscured by surrounding development.
Inspiration at Devil’s Punchbowl
For many Californians, the most accessible place to experience nature is in the chaparral, a shrub-dominated ecosystem rich in biodiversity that can be found in every county in the state. As a consequence, chaparral provides one of the best places for Californians to learn about and connect with the natural environment. In some wild land areas, local governments have built nature centers to help facilitate such an experience. One of the first nature centers we visited during our research was at Devil’s Punchbowl, a protected natural area administered by the Los Angeles County Department of Parks and Recreation.
When we first entered the park’s wood-paneled nature center, a small building with an open, uncluttered display hall, it appeared as if we were on our own. Along two walls were cabinets filled with an array of bird and mammal taxidermy, artifacts, and photos. Embedded within the other two walls were ten terrariums containing an assortment of live reptiles and insects. In the far corner was a tall counter with an opening behind that led into a small office containing an old book case with additional specimens from the park, all neatly arranged on shelves. On the counter sat a dissection scope and a two-foot-tall glass cylinder filled with earth. Attached to the wall was a two-foot diameter section of a cut pine tree. It was hollowed out and faced with a plate of glass to reveal an active beehive within.
Dave Numer, ranger and superintendent of Devil’s Punchbowl, emerged from the back office. “So, how do you think the bees get in and out of there?” he asked. Wearing a crisp uniform and a wide-brimmed hat, he leaned against the desk with a broad smile and he let us consider the question for a brief moment. Tapping the back of the log with a small, metal pointer that he extended with a snap, he provided the answer. “It’s connected to the outside by a PVC pipe right back there.”
Numer then turned our attention to the glass cylinder. “And take a look at this!” He pulled out a thumb-sized flash light and shined it into a small, excavated chamber. Translucent, marble-sized golden globes hung from the chamber’s ceiling. The globes were moving slightly from side to side, glistening in the beam of light. The scene was right out of a nature documentary.
“Honeypot ants!” we exclaimed.
“Honeypot ants, yes! And they’re native here in the park.” Numer added that the globes were the enlarged abdomens of specialized honeypot worker ants (Myrmecocystus mexicanus) capable of storing a honey-like substance used to provide food for the colony during lean times. Then he pointed out the glass cylinder’s partially open lid and a little pile of dirt on his desk. “How do you think that got there?”
“The ants?”
“Yes, the ants! They leave the nest after I depart at the end of the day and roam the nature center all night.” He enjoyed waiting for our reaction. “They always return by morning. One day when I came in early, I caught them hauling up a dead moth they had found on the floor somewhere.”
Numer shared more of his knowledge about the ants, the bees, and the center’s other displays, and offered to take us outside. Joined by his assistant Olivia, he discussed their favorite points of interest until being interrupted by a raucous noise from above. An old raven was calling out from his perch in the large pinyon pine near a small building across from the center. Numer laughed then nodded toward the building. “That was my home for five years when I lived on site.” He looked back at us. “I’ve been here for nearly 43 years now.”