A Hop, A Skip, A Jump
Yes, it's almost been a month since I hopped on down to California. I know I know, I promised posts. I promised a frog count. I promised glorious accounts of my activities, where I would describe myself leaping across streams, rock to rock, chasing after a runaway frog. What have I been doing instead of writing? Usually munching on trail mix when I get home, planning out our next days activities, watching some Netflix, and skipping off to bed. Ain't my life regal? Honestly, it really isn't that all that bad. Long days outside in scenic locales with (mostly) fresh air? Why do I say mostly? Get to that later... Perhaps I should jump on to what I've been doing.
15 hours straight in a car is a lot. 15 hours of focusing on roads, of other drivers who go just slightly below the speed limit and thus endanger you ever getting to your destination on time, of deciding what music is going to be best for keeping your eyes open. Driving half the length of the west coast, across 3 states, is no easy task. But I did it. For the third time in 2 years. It felt good to be back in Quincy. The picturesque mountain town in the Lost Sierras. And man, we got some sweet digs right off of Main Street, right in the middle of the action. Close to the movie theater that plays one movie every weekend. Walking distance to half the restaurants in town. It's pretty great.
Getting reacquainted with the forests on the Plumas and the streams that meander through them has been awesome, with some slight annoyances along the way. All the snow and rain from this winter has made the roads a biiiiiiit bumpy. For instance, just yesterday, we were driving along one of the nicer back roads we had managed to find only to come upon some sandwich boards and tape that were there to alert us that a large 10 foot section of road had collapsed. Honestly, it was one of the better instances of signage from the forest service.
When we manage to reach a site, we've been usually treated to spectacular scenery of colorful wildflowers, angular slate, blue serpentine, and the largest sugar pine cones I've see to date. They seriously measure from my fingertips to elbow.
I've always wondered why they call the Plumas the Lost Sierra. I like to believe that it's because not a great number of people visit or, my new favorite word, recreate up here. It is not as well known like Yosemite or Lassen, but the views are just as good:
So, I bet you're just dying to hear about the frogs. That's why you came here, right? Not my face. Not some trees. But one of the most adorable amphibians ever to reach the brink of extinction! How's the frog catching going, you ask? Well, we started out pretty hot. Hitting up some sites where we know the little guys hang out. Makes you feel good to man handle some frogs right off the bat (BTW, Fish & Game, I'm just kidding...) We totally love the buggers! Catching them is the hard part. The adrenaline really starts pumping when someone mutters, "Oh my god, I see one". It's always a shock. We come here to catch them. We know they are there. But like a kid believing in Santa Claus, you doubt you'll ever catch a glance. And they are so good at camouflage, they could give Navy SEALs advice.
There are several good techniques to bagging yourself a frog: 1. the reach and scoop 2. the bi-net tag team 3. the ninja strike 4. the holy shit it's getting away and you make a blind grab. All extremely effective. Check out this adorable face:
He's holding my finger! Awwwwwwwwww! Look at that smile! Who wouldn't want to work with these guys?! Who wouldn't want to keep these guys around? Now I do feel bad for the momentary harassment of sticking a small cotton swab in their mouth and rubbing it all over. But it's momentary. Fleeting. And it's for the good of science!
Sampling for the frogs eDNA is not as exciting as snagging a frog, but has been quite peaceful. It's almost meditative as you sit by a lake and pump water through a filter, collecting all the cells the frogs release into the water. It's so similar to when I attempt to meditate that my mind starts to wander and ends up turning into a jukebox of the weirdest assortment of songs. I've hummed along to Les Mis, sang disco classics, and rocked out to the White Stripes in my head. At least I am quite entertaining to myself.
Other things I've learned while doing field work for the last 4 weeks: squirrels can scream when startled; there are an awful lot of suicidal chipmunks out there; my neighbor might be a bear; and voluntary evacuation is by definition voluntary. For the past week, a wildfire has been burning just a mile south of Quincy. It's been slightly unsettling and pretty smokey most nights to the point where it seems like every neighbor has lit a campfire and I can't see down the street.
However, it is almost completely contained and Quincy is safe! It hasn't affected our frogging adventures too much, except to motivate us to work at sites farther away from the charring, stinging fog occupying our home base. But, as ever, our search continues. Adventure is out there and so are our frogs!
Frog count stands at: 15
