by Charly Kearns | October 2016

I will try not to get too deep into military analogies, but as those of you who have spent any time controlling Himalayan blackberry can attest, it often feels like a battle. This is one of our most fierce invaders, not submitting quietly to control. Rather, this plant fights back.

We tend to spend a lot of time controlling blackberry in the summer and early fall. It is too dry to plant trees, ivy control is best saved for winter when the native understory plants are dormant, and spring is the perfect time to pull Scotch broom before it blooms. For our regular weekly volunteers, they understand that summer is filled with scratched arms and tiny thorns stuck in their hands. It is really a wonder that anyone volunteers to help with such a task. We salute everyone who is willing to help!

I actually really enjoy the struggle of blackberry control. The outcome is never known – some days we win, and others we lose. This plant is truly a worthy opponent! And there is a certain satisfaction that can only come from getting into the thick of it and emerging victoriously.

This year, our all-star volunteers have helped us to clear blackberry from 13.5 acres of Land Trust property! In many cases, we’ve removed these invaders from sites where restoration plantings were getting overwhelmed. We’ve freed young plants from the constricting canes and they are able to see the sun again.

Of course, the job is not done, and the blackberry will be back, but so will we! Over time, as our native trees begin to mature and the canopy closes in, the blackberry will die from lack of sunlight. Our native shrubs and shade tolerant species will have a chance to thrive.

This is the long term perspective, but it is one that gives me a great deal of hope. I know that there is an endgame, and that we can win.

For now though, as fall makes itself abundantly present, we will hang up our loppers for a sort respite. We’ll call a truce, and allow our wounds to heal. But we’ll be back at it next summer. Come join us!

by Candi Tobin | August 2016

Administrative Assistant, Land Steward, Philanthropy Coordinator – I’ve worn many hats at the Land Trust. This story is from my days as a Land Steward in the spring of 2013. I was doing what I thought was a routine monitoring visit at the Wilcox Flats Protected Area when I was reminded that the properties that we protect and restore can be wild and unpredictable places.

As I was skirting the river to check for invasive plants, a large, narrow hole came into view about 15 feet inland from the river. This hole was directly in the path that I was taking along the river and after considering my options I decided to leap over it to avoid thick shrubs on one side and the undercut bank along the river. I was mid-leap across the opening when I was startled by movement below and I suddenly started to think about the wildlife that might be using this hole as a burrow. By the time I landed on the far side of the hole, I was convinced—to my horror—that there was a flesh-and-blood, teeth-and-claws black bear asleep beneath me!

As soon as my feet hit the ground I flew, stumbling, through the woods, not stopping until I was some 50 feet away. By some stroke of luck the bear was still asleep. I couldn’t see the bear itself, but the steady rise and fall of the clumped vegetation that covered it told me it was there alright. I stood there for awhile gawking at the rhythmic rise and fall of the bear’s breathing and waiting for my heart to slow down.

I don’t know if it was courage or stupidity – more of the latter, I suppose – but whatever I had I mustered it and after several long minutes decided that I needed to see the bear for myself. I picked up a very short, rounded stick and chucked it toward the hole because in life, sometimes you just have to poke the bear.

I braced myself to flee for my life through the woods or jump into the cold river to escape an angry, groggy bear, but my little piece of raining debris hadn’t fazed it. I crept closer to the burrow, adrenaline pumping, to get a better look. The bear didn’t stir; it’s breathing wavered only slightly as I approached. Finally, hovering on the edge of the den, I peered in… and it dawned on me that what I had spent the last twenty minutes panicking over wasn’t a bear.

It was the remnants of one of the massive cottonwood trees that pepper the shoreline! There is significant beaver activity on the property and the tree had been wrenched from the earth by the river and was wedged beneath the undercut bank. The “breathing” that had scared a solid five years off the end of my life was a gently rocking subterranean log; the protruding end of which was my “sleeping black bear”. Well played, Nature. Well played!

This property encompasses a beautiful riparian forest along the Nisqually River on the outskirts of Yelm – you should join us for a Nature Walk there sometime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

by Charly Kearns | July 2016

Many people are surprised to hear that summer is a bit slower for land stewardship activities. Once the weather turns hot and dry, our task list dries up a bit as well. Tree planting takes place in the wet fall and winter months and the bulk of our weed control activities occur in the spring and early summer. Of course, our volunteers’ bloody arms and legs tell you we are in the middle of blackberry control, but overall we have a little more time for fun projects. This involves some wandering in the woods, and some time at my favorite swimming holes. Another one of the projects I am really enjoying this summer is documenting wildlife presence and use of our Mount Rainier Gateway Protected Area.

Over the years that I have been exploring this protected area, I have been astounded at the amount of animal signs visible along the roads and trails. I have had my share of close encounters on the property as well. I was snowshoeing a few years ago, and surprised a sleeping herd of elk, bedding in the deep snow. I have seen a half dozen black bear and cubs, usually foraging on distant slopes or high tailing it down the road as I approach in my truck. I even got to see two bobcat kittens playing in the ditch. When they noticed me, they leapt nearly 6 vertical feet into a tree and scrambled away. Nearly every time I visit the property, I flush a ruffed or sooty grouse. It is apparent that animals use these roads much more than people and now we have an opportunity to get some images of these forest residents. The Nisqually Indian Tribe has graciously allowed us to borrow several motion sensor wildlife cameras. So now the hunt begins.

I installed the cameras in places where I have observed wildlife signs in the past, mostly on decommissioned forest roads. The Land Trust has been abandoning unnecessary roads on this property in order to reduce habitat fragmentation and the need for maintenance. These roads are quickly becoming forested, but they are still used by the animals. The cameras have been up for close to two months, and I recently collected them and downloaded the photos.While there are no big surprises, we did get a few good photos of some of our common residents. One camera location in particular seems to be a regular hang out spot for deer and elk. We also captured some pictures of two different black bears.

I’ve moved the cameras into some new spots to see if we can document any other species, so stay tuned for more pictures in the coming months!

 

by Charly Kearns | May 2016

April marked the trash fishing opener on Ohop Creek.  If this seems like an odd statement to you, let me explain.  This past winter saw several flood events in the Lower Ohop Valley.  This is to be expected, considering that most of the valley is a floodplain and it is not unusual for the creek to over top its banks during heavy winter rains. However, one unfortunate consequence is the garbage that ends up in Lower Ohop Creek, including many large chunks of Styrofoam from floating docks that wash downstream from Ohop Lake. The recently installed engineered log jams in Ohop Creek act like giant colanders and strain out a significant amount of trash.  Since trash in the stream doesn’t sit well with me, it was time to find some remedies.

So, our trusty interns Hannah and Julian joined AmeriCorps member Claire Cook and me for an afternoon of trash fishing.  While I could have created better tools, given unlimited time and resources, this was done on the fly.  I grabbed all the long-handled, sharp objects I could find lying about, and we got to work.  These tools included a tree pruning saw with a long wooden handle, a long PVC conduit pipe sharpened into a spike, and an iron hanging plant stand with decorative hooks.

It didn’t take us long to develop our technique.  For the most difficult to reach objects, the far-reaching pruning saw was the best choice.  For any objects with a handle or an opening, the “Shepard’s hook” plant stand did the trick. For smaller pieces of foam, the PVC spike could skewer like nothing else.  We even used the saw and the PVC tube like chopsticks to grab small plastic bottles from the creek.  The whole situation started to feel like we were playing one of those coin-operated claw games you find at arcades, only we hoped to catch an empty beer can instead of a stuffed animal.

Conversation inevitably turned to how to create the perfect trash fishing tool. It would have a lightweight, telescoping handle with a grabber, a spike on the end, and a hook that could be cast out on a piece of rope.  We have not submitted a patent on this tool yet, so feel free to create a prototype of your own (just let me be involved in the testing stage).

At the end of the afternoon, we had landed at least a dozen large chunks of foam, a tire, a pile of bottles and cans, and the pièce de résistance: a compact chest freezer.  We removed an impressive amount of debris from Ohop Creek, but I’m still kept up late some nights thinking about the one that got away.

We’ll just have to go back another day and try our luck again.

 

By Charly Kearns | April 2016

A few months ago, I was contacted by a very polite young man from a local Boy Scout troop.  He introduced himself as Tristan and explained that he was looking for a location to complete his Eagle Project, a project that culminates many years of hard work and is the highest honor in the Boy Scouts.  As an Eagle Scout myself, I was excited to help another individual achieve this distinction.  Tristan told me that he was an avid fisherman and he wanted to help restore salmon habitat by organizing a tree planting event.

 

Tristan met me at the Land Trust’s Yelm Shoreline Nature Preserve, where I am Caretaker.  As we discussed logistics, Tristan revealed that five years earlier he had come to that same site as a student with the Nisqually River Education Project to help with the property’s very first restoration event.  This experience had a lasting effect on him and gave him the idea for his Eagle Project.  The site has had great success and phenomenal growth in subsequent years, with a few areas of patchy survival.  This seemed like a great opportunity to come full circle; Tristan would organize a planting event at the same site where he was introduced to habitat restoration.

I recommended that we diversify the restoration by adding several new species of native shrubs, as well as some additional conifers in areas of lower survival.  We agreed on the planting location, number of plants and an event date, then he headed out into the community to raise money for the plants.

On the day of the event, Tristan showed up with a big group of scouts and leaders.  The troop had just come back from a rainy night of camping, and everyone was cheerfully prepared to spend a rainy and muddy day planting trees.  After showing everyone how to properly plant bare root trees, I turned the event over to Tristan.  He did a wonderful job of keeping the group organized, and was constantly checking in to make sure that the trees were planted correctly.  By the end of the day we had planted all 300 trees and shrubs, with a break halfway for pizza.

This experience was very special for me.  It reminded me of all the moments in my life that have driven me towards a career in conservation.  Of course my parents were pivotal, and my experiences growing up on a small farm largely shaped my worldview.  However, my time with the Boy Scouts was also influential.  It was an outlet for my exploration of wild places, and instilled in me the self-reliance and preparedness that I prize.  It makes me very happy to see young people having these experiences and developing a deep respect for the earth.  I’m glad that Tristan will be able to look out at this rapidly growing forest, and watch it mature.  I hope that he will someday bring his grandchildren to this site and see the forest teeming with wildlife and the salmon running plentifully in the river.