Category: Trail Curiosity

Run Around the Alvord Desert: Let’s Playa

The Alvord Desert Playa

With the walls closing in at home, my family and I decided to head out to the Alvord Desert for some much needed solitude and wide-open space for a weekend in mid-May. The plan was to camp for a couple nights, and hike and explore during the day. The Alvord Desert is on BLM land and primitive camping is allowed. So, with the promise of room to roam, we packed up our vehicle with the necessary provisions, loaded up the car, and headed southeast. 

Alive in the Alvord

The Alvord Desert is a playa located on the east side of Steens Mountain- a huge fault block mountain that runs for miles at the edge of Oregon’s Basin and Range region. Dry and expansive (about 11 miles long and 6 miles wide), with a cracked earthen floor. The Alvord Desert landscape feels alien- devoid of greenery and seemingly lifeless; a monotonous swath of dirt and dust. Much like what you would expect from a desert.

But then…

You watch the sun rise and fall, casting shadows and painting the sky intermittently between hours of moon and stars and wind. You roam the sagebrush boundary lands, hunting for lizards or other desert life. When the sun is high and the heat is too much, you swat away invertebrates while reading the book you brought on the trip, moving every once in a while in order to remain in the shade. On your early morning run, you discover large pools of water that make you reflect on what you know about hydrology (more on that later). And suddenly, you find yourself waxing poetic about this mysterious landscape called the Alvord Desert… Or maybe it is just me.

Arrival 

After driving for countless miles, my family and I arrived in Alvord Desert late in the afternoon. It was finally cooling down for the night, when we found a spot to camp on the edge of the playa. There, we spent the evening watching our shadows grow long and once night hit, we counted stars and waited for the moon to rise. Eventually, one-by-one, we fell asleep to the sound of the desert winds, visions of wide-open-spaces dancing in our heads.

The Hike or Run 

  • Trailhead: any place you can find your way back to (make sure you know your return coordinates)
  • Distance: any distance your energy level will allow
  • Elevation Gain: virtually none
  • Notes: Run or hike from virtually any point you would like. Bring plenty of water. Distances appear shorter in the desert, so plan accordingly. Make sure you know where you are starting from, so you can make it back safely.
Heading out on a sunrise run.

A Glass Half Full 

At first light, I was up and ready to explore. My plan from the get-go was to run the playa: so much space and nearly level ground- a distance runners dream, I thought. So I donned my running gear and started to move. The light of the early morning was magic, as I trotted along at my usual slow pace, soaking in the atmosphere. I followed the shrub-lined edge of the playa for most of the run. It was eerie and peaceful.

Eventually, I made it around to the opposite side from camp and figured I would cut across the playa when- splash- water! What I had thought was a desert mirage, was actually a thin lake of water that made crossing the playa at that point impossible.

Rerouting my run, questions began to soar through my mind about the wet encounter. I had read that the Alvord desert had a wet and dry season, but for some reason it didn’t fully register until that moment; until I ran smack into it.

Tired and a bit dehydrated from my run, I thought a lot about the hydrological cycle of the Alvord- about its cycles and seasons- and decided I needed to know more about this unique land of wet mud and dry dust.

Ready? Let’s Playa in the Alvord!

The Alvord Desert covered with a thin layer of water

In the Shadow

Lying within the rain shadow of Steens, the Alvord Desert is considered the driest place in the State of Oregon, receiving only about 7 inches of precipitation per year. As part of Oregon’s interior, not a lot of moisture makes it to this southeastern region. And what little does makes it into the region, is removed from the atmosphere as snowfall on Steens Mountain’s western flank. This process is known as the rain shadow effect. When moisture laden air travels up a mountainside (the windward side), it cools, condenses, and eventually falls as precipitation. The dry air then continues down the other side of the mountain (the leeward side), where it heats up, encouraging further drying through evaporation.  The Alvord Desert is on the leeward side of Steens, so it not only gets little rainfall, but it experiences a lot of evaporation.

Dry and Cracked 

Additionally, the Alvord basin, like most watershed in the Basin and Range of Oregon, is a closed-watershed system. Instead of taking a more traditional route to the Ocean, water in the Alvord doesn’t leave by surface or groundwater flowing to the Ocean. Instead, it stays in the basin until the hot sun evaporates it away. The result is another interesting features of the Alvord- cracks.

Alvord Desert’s surface is riddled with geometric shapes separated by cracks. Known as desiccation fractures, these cracks form as the surface of moist clay-rich sediments dry and shrink through sun and wind evaporation. Shrinking results in tensile stresses that radiate out in all directions on the surface that ultimately break, resulting in polygonal cracks- one of the Alvord Desert’s characteristic features.

Desiccation Fractures

Reflecting on a Thin Film of Water

O.K. so that explains why it is so very dry in the Alvord Desert, but it doesn’t explain why there is water there at all.  Where does the water come from, if not from precipitation?

Perhaps not surprisingly, much of the water in the Alvord Desert comes from higher up- on Steens Mountain.  Steens Mountain captures a lot of precipitation in the form of snow. Later in spring, the snowpack melts and feeds streams and groundwater systems that supply water to the basin below. Much like how water accumulates in the drain at the bottom of your sink, the Alvord Desert is one of several low points, separated by alluvial divides, that capture water draining from Steens above. 

Steens Mountain

Shifting Waters

However, as a desert playa, the Alvord Desert also happens to be very large and very flat. In the spring, expansive areas fill with water but at a depth of only a few centimeters. It is the process of inundation that actually helps maintain the flatness of a playa- laying down sediments evenly throughout.

When visiting the Alvord Desert it is important to remember that these thin, but massive lakes of water may grow or shrink, and/or shift, making parts of the playa potentially impassable at times. During my morning run on the playa, it was just a matter of rerouting, but there is potential for getting stranded by these shifting waters. In the Spring, when water levels are wide, the risk of getting trapped by pooling water is particular high, so plan accordingly.

An Ancient Lake

However, even during its wettest season, the thin surface water of the Alvord is nothing compared to the amount of water it once held during its tumultuous past. From about 3.5 million years ago to 15,000 years ago, recurring ice ages increased rainfall in southeast Oregon that filled the large basins characteristic of the region. The Alvord Desert and surrounding sub-basins (as far south as Nevada) were all connected as one massive pluvial lake. Filled to the brim, Pleistocene Lake Alvord had a depth of nearly 200 feet at one point, and would often overflow. 

Overflowing

During periods of overflow, water would travel via Crooked Creek to the Owyhee River.  During one cataclysmic event, water burst through Big Sand Gap on the lake’s eastern rim, eroding it down about 12 m, and sending torrents of water into the much smaller Pluvial Lake Coyote, through Crooked Creek, and out to the Owyhee River. Today along Crooked Creek, you can observe the scabland terrain and boulder bars that serve as evidence of this event.  Apparently, you can also hike out to Big Sand Gap from the Alvord Desert by following wild horse trails to see the breach up close- something I will have to try on my next trip.  

It wasn’t until the last 10,000 years that the Earth warmed again and the Alvord became the desert you see today. 

Alvord Desert at sunrise

You Should Go Playa

Whether you explore on foot or otherwise, the Alvord Desert is a magical place to visit. It may look one-dimensional at first glance, but if you stay awhile, the dynamic nature of the landscape, with it’s subtle shifts and movement, begin to unfold. You should seriously go “playa” in the Alvord- you won’t be disappointing. Just don’t forget the moisturizer.

  • “Alvord Desert – The Oregon Encyclopedia.” 20 Mar. 2018, https://oregonencyclopedia.org/articles/alvord_desert/. Accessed 26 May. 2020.
  • “Playa | geology | Britannica.” https://www.britannica.com/science/playa. Accessed 26 May. 2020.
  • Tanner P.W.G. (1978) Desiccation structures (mud cracks, etc.). In: Middleton G.V., Church M.J., Coniglio M., Hardie L.A., Longstaffe F.J. (eds) Encyclopedia of Sediments and Sedimentary Rocks. Encyclopedia of Earth Sciences Series. Springer, Dordrecht.
  • O’Connor, Jim E., Rebecca J. Dorsey, and Ian Madin, eds. Volcanoes to vineyards: geologic field trips through the dynamic landscape of the Pacific Northwest. Vol. 15. Geological Society of America, 2009.
  • “Oregon: A Geologic History – Oregon Geologic Timeline.” https://www.oregongeology.org/pubs/ims/ims-028/timeline.htm. Accessed 26 May. 2020.

Watch your Boots if you Hike with Newts

Watch your step! Rough-skinned newts are on the move this time of year in the valley’s of Western Oregon.  

Rough-skinned newt in Beazell Memorial Forest

Don’t Crush a Newt

A couple of years ago, while hiking with my daughter in Beazell Memorial County Forest, King’s Valley, OR, we discovered a trail littered with rough-skinned newts. Dozens upon dozens of all shapes and sizes, walked clumsily across and past us on the trail.  They were so abundant that we needed to watch our step to avoid crushing them.  Quickly, our ordinary hike in the woods was becoming an unforgettable wildlife adventure. We reveled in the spectacle.  

This year I decided to head back to Beazell to see if the newts were out and about again. And though I was unable to replicate my 2018 experience, the visit got me thinking about the life cycle and circumstance of a rough-skinned newt.  I see rough-skinned newts perhaps more than any other amphibian in Oregon.  Yet, that fateful day in April was something special.  As I trudged up the hill to reach the south meadows of Beazell, I resolved to learn a bit more about these charismatic, orange-bellied creatures, and what sort of mischief they got themselves into. 

Hike at a Glance

  • Trailhead: Beazell Forest Trailhead
  • Distance: 3.9 miles
  • Elevation gain: about 800 feet
  • Notes: There are many options for loops here. You can go a bit longer or shorter depending on your energy. Easy parking and restrooms on site.
View from the south meadow

Death by Newt

Don’t be fooled by rough-skinned newts’ seemingly good-natured demeanor. They may appear benign, but these newts have a seedy underbelly- a very orange seedy underbelly.  Let me explain…

The story goes that in the 1960s three hunters from Oregon were found dead sitting around a campfire with no sign of struggle or injury. The only clue to their death was a coffee pot with a rough-skinned newt curled up inside.  It is thought that the pot, newt and all, had been unwittingly used to prepare their morning coffee- killing the men. 

Toxic Orange 

Though rough-skinned newts are generally a rather drab color of brown on top, they have a bright orange underside. Bright colors are commonly found in the animal kingdom when an animal is trying to make a point- that point being- “I am incredibly toxic so you better leave me alone.” Think, poison dart frog, and you get the picture.  

Rough-skinned newts are no exception.  In fact, rough-skinned newts have a reputation as the most toxic amphibian in the Pacific Northwest; possibly the most toxic on the planet. They produce a neurotoxin called tetrodotoxin (TTX) that blocks voltage-gated sodium channels, important neural pathways. Hence our dead hunters. 

Their toxic orange skin might help explain why newts aren’t particularly evasive too. Just a quick flash of their orange underside (a move called the unken reflex) is an informative gesture meant to deter any predator that might attempt to consume it. Many have tried.  Many have failed. The message is simple- “drink the coffee”- aka eat newt- and you too will face a bitter end. 

Small juvenile newt during migration

The Race

Interestingly, the production of TTX in newt populations has led to an evolutionary arms race with common garter snakes- rough-skinned newts’ only significant predators.  Garter snakes adapt to the poison, but lose some of their prowess. Research has shown a drop in crawl speed in snakes that survive newt skin poisoning. Apparently, the trade off is worth it- evolutionarily speaking.  

However, with more recent research into the source of newt TTX, a third organism has become part of the picture- bacterium.  Though it is difficult to confirm sole responsibility, recent studies have found that some species of bacteria that reside on the skin of a toxic rough-skinned newt are capable of producing TTX.  This suggests the intriguing possibility that our newt is part of a sordid co-evolutionary 3-way yet to be fully understood.

Watery Beginnings

Rough-skinned newts start their lives in water.  Eggs are laid individually and anchored to the underside of leaves or other debris. Upon hatching, rough-skinned newts will spend at least three months as larvae with bushy gills until they metamorphose into adults. Some will never metamorphose- a phenomenon known as neoteny- and simply live out their days in perpetual youth; sort of like a 30-something living in their parent’s basement- why move?

However, most rough-skinned newts will eventually move to a more terrestrial existence. Here they spend much of their time resting under the cover of logs, rocks, or other surface objects, or foraging for food. It is not unusual to see the proud swagger of a newt looking for a tasty invertebrate, especially following a nice rain.  

Plunkett Creek in Beazell Memorial Forest

Springtime Madness

Then, with the onset of spring, and a particularly warm rain- an instinct is triggered in the newts -and it is time to move!  The migration of rough-skinned newts is a heroic spring ritual, as they make their way in droves out from their winter hiding places, toward their breeding grounds. They will travel miles if necessary to make it back to the same pond or body of water to breed year after year; each time following a similar migratory route. 

It is thought that males will generally travel individually, while females have been reported to travel in large groups during migration.  It is possible that the April 2018 my daughter and I experienced was just that sort of event- a gathering of females in anticipation for the “big night.”  To stretch the analogy further, during mating season, males will also exchange their rough, bumpy skin for a more polished appearance- putting on smooth supple skin, a tall tail, and black pads on the soles of their feet. 

Newt during migration on April 28, 2018

The Dance of a Lifetime

When a female arrives at “the dance” (let’s call it), she is swarmed for attention, eventually finding herself locked in a close tango with a single male. This underwater dance can last for several hours.  Then, before the “night” ends the male will drop a package containing sperm (a spermatophore) behind for the female to pick up. If accepting of the gift, she will store it in her reproductive organs. A few days later, when the time is right, the female will then use the stored spermatophores to fertilize her eggs and deposit them one-by-one, preparing a new generation to dance. 

Watch your Hiking Boot

So next time you hit the trail on a warm, wet spring day, keep an eye out and tread lightly. You just might find yourself encircled by a herd of rough-skinned newts. Emboldened by their bright orange belly, they will brazenly follow their chosen route. Not even the crushing force of your hiking boots will hinder them on their path.

Curious at Coyote Wall

View from Coyote Wall of Mount Hood and the Columbia River

A Plethora of Curiosities

One of my favorite hikes in “The Gorge” takes you through a Missoula flood inflicted scablands of oak and pine, up a ridge of columnar basalt, and through fields of wildflowers.  Oh and did I mention, views of Mount Hood and the Columbia River. There is a lot to appreciate along the Coyote Wall trail near Bingen, Washington. So today, let’s explore a few trail curiosities that can be found along the Coyote Wall trail. 

The Hike at a Glance

  • Trailhead: Coyote Wall Trailhead
  • Distance: 7.8 miles
  • Elevation Gain: about 1900 feet
  • Notes: No parking pass required, but popular trail so get here early.  Trail is shared with mountain bikers. Pit toilet at the trailhead.  

The Wall (not just a Pink Floyd Album)

One of the most obvious and interesting curiosities to discover at Coyote Wall is the wall itself.  Formed from ancient lava flows that flooded the area about 16 million years ago, the resulting basalt rocks underwent folding and faulting, and later uplift (both of which continue today), creating this magnificent geological feature. You can see Coyote Wall from the parking lot and again later when you climb up and back down it.  It truly is a wonder and a highlight of this hike. 

If you are so Inclined

You see, Coyote Wall is part of the Bingen Anticline- where the earth’s crust has been compressed, folded and uplifted by faulting. The Columbia River corridor east of Hood River is characterized by convex ridges (anticline) and concave valleys (synclines) formed from a north-south compression of the Earth’s crust. To understand how this works, take a flat piece of paper, or other flexible material, and bring its opposite ends together- the paper will “deform” much like the deformation of the Earth’s crust under similar strain.

As part of the Yakima Fold Belt, the Bingen Anticline is asymmetrical. Thus the Coyote Wall ridge is relatively short (maybe a mile or two), compared to the larger associated syncline valley that the town of Mosier occupies across the river (syncline valleys in the area tend to be 10s of miles).  But don’t let it’s length fool you, uplifted Coyote Wall is a steep climb and descent having been uplifted a couple hundred feet! 

Looking back at Coyote Wall

The Labyrinth (not just an 80’s cult classic)

The Labyrinth

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves- first is the Labyrinth!  Before beginning the steep climb up Coyote Wall, a trail to the east leads you through another fascinating geological feature- a channeled scablands. Curiosity number two!  

Throughout southeast Washington, channeled scablands dominate the landscape. Basically, channeled scablands are areas where parts of the soil and bedrock have been torn up, leaving exposed rocks and deep ravines. How did these scablands form?  What happened here? You might have guessed it- water! And lot’s of it.  

Sculpting with Water

During the last ice age 10,000 to 20,000 years ago, massive floods scoured the landscape. At that time, the Cordilleran ice sheet covered large swaths of North American- but it wasn’t static. This ice sheet would periodically inch its way southward, creating an ice dam along the Clark Fork River in Montana.  The water behind the dam would accumulate into a large lake, the massive Glacial Lake Missoula. At roughly 2,000 feet deep, it held about 500 cubic miles of water. Then, periodically, the ice dam would fail, releasing torrents of water and ice. The flood waters tore through Washington and Oregon eroding much of the landscape and depositing materials as far south as the Willamette Valley. 

With many areas of exposed basalt and butte-and-basin topography, the Labyrinth offers a glimpse into the powerful force of these episodic floods.

Wild about Wildflowers

Desert Parsley – Lomatium

Finally (but not least), are the wildflowers!  I am a huge fan of wildflower hikes- and Coyote wall puts on a gorgeous show starting in the early spring.  Among my favorite of the early bloomers (sometimes seen as early as February) are a diverse group of carrot family plants commonly called Desert parsley.  I don’t know how many species of Desert parsley, or Lomatium, can be found along the Coyote Wall trail. But I saw a couple species on my recent visit, and I am pretty sure there are many more- as there are over 70 known species in the west.  Rumor has it they can be difficult to identify. To be honest, I didn’t even try. 

Better than Carrots

Anyway, besides being beautiful to look at, Lomatium also has an interesting history. The tap root of many Lomatium species was both food and medicine to many Pacific Northwest tribes. For example, the Yakama, who once occupied SE Washington, would use the root of Lomatium, also called biscuitroot or kowsh (yes, there are a lot of names for this stuff), to make small biscuits.  The starchy roots of Lomtium were mashed, shaped, and dried in the sun. Then the biscuits were stored for later use.   

I Think… Probably?

Early reports of Lomatium came from none-other-than Merriweather Lewis and William Clark.  Lewis and Clark called the biscuits derived from the root “chapelel bread” and witnessed its preparation and trade. They also reportedly obtained and consumed some chapelel during their journey.  In addition, Lewis collected and described five Lomatium species for his herbarium. Although it seems he too had difficulty distinguishing between species- using qualifiers in his records such as “I think” or “probably” when attempting to identification.  I’m glad I am not the only one. Though the purple Lomatium pictured below is Columbia desert parsley, Lomatium columbianum… “I think… probably.” 

Lomatium columbianum

Get Curious and Explore

In any event, from huge lava flows to massive floods of water to fields of edible vegetation, there is a lot of science and historical curiosities to explore at Coyote Wall.  Botanically and geologically interesting, it is worth a visit. Stay curious!

Credits/Links

Sea foam: Life or Death?

Hobbit beach on the Oregon Coast

Winter time on the Oregon Coast

One of my favorite times to visit the Oregon Coast is during the winter.  With incredible whale watching opportunities, winter wind storms, and King Tides bringing huge waves- there is lot of drama on the Oregon Coast to enjoy in the winter.  

Close up of sea foam

Winter also brings increased amounts of white (sometimes brownish), billowing suds from the ocean to collect on our sandy beaches. Sea foam is not just a winter phenomenon, but it is the time of year that it does seem to pile up.  So, a couple weekends ago, when I found myself on a hike on the beach enjoying the sun and waves (yes! Sun in February), I found myself face to face with a lot of this surf riding fluff.  

The Hike

View from Hobbit Beach Trail heading toward Heceta Head

The Hike at a Glance

Trailhead: Hobbit Trail Trailhead (turnout on Highway 101 a little north of Heceta Head)

Miles: 1 mile round trip to the beach. 4 miles round trip to Heceta Head

Elevation Gain: almost 1000 ft

Notes: Trailhead can fill up easily on a nice day. There is no restroom at the trailhead. Trail is well signed and easy to follow.

Foam Fairy Tales

I grew up a Disney kid.  I saw all of the movies, including The Little Mermaid.  In fact, it was one of my favorites. I loved to sing the songs and dream of adventure, just like Ariel.  Of course as an adult, I can see a lot of flaws in the timeless tale, but I digress. Anyway, later in my childhood, I was also exposed to the original story of The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson.  A much darker tail where Ariel is rejected by the prince, dies, and turns into sea foam. Though Hans, when he wrote The Little Mermaid didn’t know it, his depiction of the death of sea life turning into foam is not terribly inaccurate. 

Good Foam

Sea foam at Hobbit Beach

Sea foam is dissolved organic matter that has been churned up by the sea creating suds much, like washing detergent suds up when agitated.  More agitation means more bubbles. Thus, in the winter, when there is more churning of the ocean, we often see more sea foam. But where did all these organics come from?  

The dissolved organic matter that creates sea foam is mostly natural occurring. Ocean water is made of a lot of materials- salts, fats, proteins, and all sorts of particulates. All of these things have the potential to create bubbles when you shake them up.   However, according to NOAA, one of the most common causes of thick piles of sea foam is dead algae.  

When algae growth is high in the ocean, a lot more of it dies and ends up washed up on the beaches in sea foam.  This is a good sign. Algae are producers – the base of the ocean food web- they transform sunlight and inorganic chemicals (carbon dioxide and water) through a fancy biochemical reaction into food and oxygen.  A lot of dead algae means a lot of living algae available as food for ocean life.

Sea foam piled up on Hobbit Beach

Not So Good Foam

Of course it should be noted that algae blooms have the potential to be harmful.  They can form toxins and other compounds that may be bad for people and wildlife. For example, in 2007 a harmful foam formed from algae called Akashiwo sanguinea on the west coast. The protein surfactants from the algae, in this case, stripped the natural waterproofing off the feathers of sea birds leading to hypothermia and death. Will we see more cases like this in the future?  It is hard to tell. 

It seems there is still much to learn about the foamy stuff.  There are even some ideas floating around about using sea foam to increase the albedo (reflectivity of sunlight) of the ocean in order to limit global warming. 

Pretty Good Foam

So for now, just enjoy watching sea foam pile up creating a beach wide winter bubble bath. Despite the fact that it contains the remains of living creatures, it is a better indicator of life than death.  Besides, it sure is pretty to look at.  

Mountain Beaver, Can you Dig it?

Mountain beaver tunnel opening on Kentucky Falls Trail in Mapleton, OR

Signs of Life

Looking for wildlife signs along a trail is a great way to stay curious while hiking.  

Lines of inquiry open up like, “Hey, what are all those holes in that tree over there?”  “Look! I think I see a nest. What is it made out of? Is it active or abandoned?” “An animal track! What animal came through here? How recently did it pass by? Where is it headed?” And of course, “Why?” 

Animal tracks in snow. Cone Peak trail in Central Cascades.

Burrows, holes, and dens are especially interesting to think about.  Questions arise, like, “What made that?” “Where does it go?” “Does the organism that made it live there?” “Does it allow guests?” “What lives there now?”

Sign at Kentucky Falls Trailhead

So last weekend, after a long drive on forest service roads, I was excited to see a sign posted warning hikers about trail instability due to Mountain Beaver tunnels and dens at the Kentucky Falls Trailhead near Mapleton, OR.  I had never heard of a Mountain Beaver (What the heck?) or seen (at least not with any idea of what I was looking at) its telltale signs.  I had a lot of questions. But first, off to the hunt- a.k.a hike! 

The Hike

The Hike at a Glance

Trailhead: Kentucky Falls Trailhead near Mapleton, OR

Miles: 4.4 miles

Elevation Gain: 700 feet

Notes: The drive to the trailhead is long and rough on many forest service roads.  Google maps got us there with no problems. I recommend downloading an offline map of the area to help with navigation.  In the winter, there is potential for snow on the road. A pit toilet is available at the trailhead.  

Canopies and Cascades

Upper Kentucky Falls

The Kentucky Falls trail is a GORGEOUS hiking adventure with towering trees and waterfalls. Douglas-fir and Western Hemlock reach skyward all along the trail as you wind your way down to the first gushing waterfall- Upper Kentucky Falls.  Moss covered rocks, sword fern, and plenty of other native herbs and forbs carpet the forest floor. The hike continues downward, over a bridge, and past the trail junction for the North Fork Smith River Trail and ends at the base of twin 100-foot waterfalls- Lower Kentucky Falls.  

Curiouser and Curiouser

There were many interesting observations to make while hiking on this trail. The power and volume of the waterfalls, for example, raises questions about the size of the watershed and source of the water.  Is it purely rainfed? I wonder how different it will look later in the year when things dry up.

Western red cedar snags as seen on the trail.

The structure of the forest also struck me. The Douglas-fir and western hemlock were tall and stately, but interspersed between them I saw dozens of short, decaying western red cedar snags.  There has to be a story there too…

Down the Mountain Beaver Hole…

BUT I was on a mission…  I needed to find signs of Mountain Beaver (Aplodontia rufa)!  Where are the tunnels?  

Several tunnel openings found along the edge of the trail

It didn’t take long, before I found what I was looking for. 

The trail was saturated with several openings that looked like they would accommodate a small mammal, perhaps the size of a small rabbit or large gopher.  It appeared the tunnels crisscrossed under the trail at unequal intervals, as there were holes heading into the embankment below and the trail above.   

Depression in middle of trail- Mountain beaver damage?

At one point on the trail, it looked like an old tunnel system may have caved in leaving a large depression in the middle of the trail (I wish I had measured it!- darn!).  Perhaps one of the tunnels had been large enough to act as a den, or there were too many tunnels crisscrossing that they all collapsed. Whatever had happened, it looked like an old occurrence, as nature was reclaiming the space. 

As I reached the bridge crossing and started down toward lower Kentucky Falls, I didn’t notice the tunnel system anymore.  Either I was too captivated by the rest of the surroundings to notice any tunnel openings, or they just weren’t in that area.  

In any event, by the time I was back to the car and heading home, I had more questions than answers. I didn’t even know the basics, like “What the heck is a mountain beaver?”  I was going to have to do some research to find out. 

Mountain Beaver Basics

First things first, the name- Mountain Beaver- is a misnomer.  Mountain beavers are not closely related to Oregon’s State Animal, the North American Beaver.  They are more related to squirrels, if you need something to compare to. They are not really considered alpine animals either, as they prefer lower elevations in the Coast range and western Cascades, and have never been spotted above treeline. 

Second, there is not a lot of information out there about the mountain beaver.  For example, if you look up mountain beaver on the Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife’s website you get a very brief description emphasizing the fact that it has a short nearly “invisible” tail. The blurb explains that the mountain beaver is a muskrat-like rodent with five toes and dark brown fur with white markings near its ears. Oh, and that it is found in the Oregon Coast Range. Literally, that is about it. Though the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife was more helpful at providing details on the mountain beaver, in general, I found mountain beaver information rather limited and mostly focused on dealing with them as a pest species to timber operations. 

Digging Deeper

However, “digging deep” into researching mountain beavers, I was able to make some sense of what I had seen and thought about while on the trail.  

According to WDFW’s website, Mountain beaver tunnel openings are typically 6 to 8 inches in diameter, and tunnels can go as deep as 10 feet underground. Their tunnel systems are composed of several chambers that they use for different purposes like food storage, nesting, or a latrine. Mountain beaver are solitary mammals, as well as territorial. A single mountain beaver may occupy an area of 2 acres or more.

Despite my lack of x-ray vision, with opening after opening found along the trail, as well as the possible den collapse mentioned earlier (at least that is my hypothesis), there was plenty of evidence to support the idea that I was seeing an extensive mountain beaver tunnel system. In addition, the lack of tunnels I found as I moved further down the trail may be explained by the mountain beaver’s territorial nature- it is likely I had hit the boundary of a mountain beaver’s territory.

Habitat Needs

Like all of us, mountain beaver have needs. They need a lot of water to drink- requiring a ⅓ of their body weight in water daily- and vegetation, like ferns and tree seedlings, to eat.  (They also feed on their own excrement, but that is another story…)

Small stream running across the trail.

Fortunately, water was very accessible on the trail; several very small streams ran across it.

Ferns clipped and piled in front of mountain beaver tunnel opening.

Food was equally available. And there were many signs along the trail that our rodent friend was partaking. You see, mountain beaver will clip food off from the base of plants- eating from the bottom up.  Piles of clipped plants can sometimes be found temporarily stored outside a tunnel opening. Luckily, I was able to capture photo evidence of this phenomenon (see the picture above) – though admittedly by accident.

With a nearby water source and ample food, one thing is for sure, the Kentucky Falls trail provides perfect mountain beaver habitat!

Old is the New Young

Another fun fact about mountain beaver is they are old!  On a geological scale they are ancient for a mammal. They are the only surviving members of the Aplodontia genus of rodents that has been around 35 million years!  

However, despite their age, recent research done by Samantha Hopkins, from the University of Oregon, brings into question the long held belief that mountain beaver are primitive – existing as living fossils. Using fossil evidence, Hopkins found that “since they emerged as a species”, mountain beaver have gone through A LOT of changes- “their bodies have grown from the size of chipmunks to that of ground squirrels and then to marmots and muskrats.” Really, very little of what we now see in modern mountain beavers is primitive. 

Clearly, there is more science to be done if we are to understand and appreciate this elusive rodent.

So, next time you are in the Coast Range of Oregon or the foothills of the Cascade, look around!  Though you probably won’t see one, mountain beaver signs are hard to miss… when you know what you are looking for.  

Credits

  1. “Mountain beaver | Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife.” https://myodfw.com/wildlife-viewing/species/mountain-beaver. Accessed 9 Feb. 2020.
  2. “Mountain beaver | Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife.” https://myodfw.com/wildlife-viewing/species/mountain-beaver. Accessed 9 Feb. 2020.
  3. “Researcher helps fill in the family tree of the shy mountain ….” 8 Jan. 2020, https://around.uoregon.edu/content/researcher-helps-fill-family-tree-shy-mountain-beaver. Accessed 9 Feb. 2020.