Forest Hike with Bird and Wildlife Biologist

Rushing water. A shushing breeze. Rustling leaves. Chattering wildlife. These are the sounds of a forest in the foothills of the Willamette Valley. Soft, tranquil, quiet. Or at least in winter.

The forest awakens in spring. As flowers stretch out their petals and leaves unfurl to catch the sunlight, the tranquil chatter of the forest turns into an all-out symphony of sounds. Like the string section in the orchestra, it is the birds that draw the most attention.

I have always enjoyed bird song but have not yet mastered their melodious rhythms. This spring I am determined to take a closer listen.

Fortunately, Joan Hagar, a research wildlife biologist with USGS, agreed to meet with me to talk birds in a local forest.  

The Hike

  • Trailhead: 720 Gate at the end of Sulpher Springs Road
  • Distance: approximately 2 miles
  • Details: Limited parking at the end of a well-maintained gravel road. No fee for parking. No restrooms. Park at gate 720 gate and head up Road 720. Look for a right turn-off on a user trail that takes you back to the gate. Map of area available on OSU College of Forestry website.

Introductions

I met Joan on a cool spring afternoon. It was overcast, but not raining. Would the birds be out?

We didn’t take but a moment before heading up the trail which rose along a riparian corridor next to a rushing creek.

I asked Joan to tell me more about herself and her career.

“The focus of my career has been to help forest managers incorporate wildlife habitat into their management plans,” she explained as we walked. “Remind them that they can accommodate wildlife at the same time as they are meeting their other goals.”

More specifically, she is all about the birds. Joan has spent her career studying birds and other wildlife in the Pacific Northwest.

As Joan explained it, she was born with it.

“My dad was a wildlife biologist and taught me the birds,” she explained, “and being able to hear them and know what species you are hearing it is like understanding a foreign language.”

A skill she would prove multiple times on our walk, but at least for the moment, the forest was rather quiet.

Indicators

As we continued our gradual climb up the forested hillside, I asked Joan “Why birds?”

“Birds, it turns out, are really great indicators for management and environmental change,” explained Joan.

Many species are only suited for a particular habitat or forest type. If the environment changes, so does the bird community. As a master’s student, Joan explained, she was able to see this firsthand. 

Joan studied the impact of forest thinning on bird communities.

“I am going to show that harvesting is bad for wildlife,” Joan’s early scientist idealistic self-had thought, but she was mistaken.

“I found out that when the canopy of these dense conifer stands opened up and allowed the understory to develop… that meant more productivity—more flowers, fruits, seeds, and insects,” said Joan. 

In essence, thinning increases resources birds relied on and as a result bird diversity also increased as birds that were attracted to the more open habitat arrived.

“Disturbances aren’t a bad thing,” Joan concluded. 

Of course, “that is a bird perspective,” said Joan. “Amphibians might feel differently.” 

Why birds?

In addition to birds’ ability to respond so quickly and clearly to environmental change, there are many other reasons birds are useful biological indicators. 

“Birds are everywhere,” said Joan. “And they are fun to watch.”

Joan tried studying amphibians early in her career but found it more difficult.

“You have to turn over a lot of logs to find them,” Joan explained, “and in doing so you have to destroy their habitat.” 

(Turns out, Kermit is right—It ain’t easy being green.)

Birds, on the other hand, can be counted by sight and/or sound.

For more detailed demographic data, mist nests may be used to capture the birds temporarily to study them. By using a method called “mark-recapture,” even the abundance of birds may be calculated.

Riparian Resident Birds

Deciduous trees, like bigleaf maple and red alder, having still not leafed out, offered views down towards the water as we walked. 

“So, what kinds of birds would you find here?” I asked.

“Usually there are a lot of birds here,” Joan responded and pointed out the chattering call of the Pacific Wren.

“They [Pacific Wrens] start nesting this time of year,” she continued; “they like a lot of dead wood—stumps, logs—and they love the riparian area because of all the trees that fall in and it is damp and moist.”

Pacific wren is a resident species in Oregon’s western forests, along with Spotted Towhee, Song Sparrows, Canada Jays, and Steller’s Jay.

Barred owls and Pygmy owls are also common residents found nesting in snags.

“I have long suspected a Pygmy Owl nesting near here,” said Joan.

Riparian Breeding Birds

“In a normal year we would be hearing warblers,” Joan continued as we rose above the creek.

Orange-crowned Warblers usually arrive in April, with Hermit Warblers arriving a few weeks later.

“They [Hermit Warblers] are really cool because they only breed along the west coast here—from the coast to the Cascade Mountains,” said Joan excitedly.

Hermit warblers are what Joan called “endemic breeders.” Traveling to Central America during the non-breeding period and returning to their narrow breeding range in Pacific Northwest forests.

“Pacific-slope Flycatcher,” Joan recalled is another riparian migrant. “I am usually starting to hear those this time of year.”

Pacific-slope Flycatchers are especially fond of forests and woodlands near waterways where the canopy is dominated by deciduous foliage—often nesting on the slopes of forested canyons.

“They love these riparian trees, like maples and ash,” Joan remarked. Here the flycatchers catch insects below the canopy.

Woodpeckers

Early spring is also a great time to see woodpeckers in Oregon’s Willamette Valley forests.

“Hairy woodpecker, Downy woodpecker, red-bellied sapsucker…” Joan rattled off some examples.

It is nesting season and woodpeckers are out scouring the woods for the perfect tree to build a nest in.

“Woodpeckers are primary cavity nesters,” Joan accounted.

Primary means that they excavate their own cavity, as opposed to secondary cavity-nesters, like chickadees, bluebirds, and wrens, that depend on woodpeckers to provide cavities.

“They do the excavation of the cavities because they have strong bills,” Joan explained.

“Woodpeckers are funny because they do a lot of excavating before they settle,” she continued. “The male goes around and makes a cavity, then the female checks it out and goes ‘eh’ and so he makes another cavity.”

This process continues for a while until the female is satisfied. Fortunately, the result is several new unoccupied cavities produced each nesting season. This is great news for secondary cavity nesters, like chickadees and nuthatches, who are soft-billed and reliant on finding a home in already existing cavities.  

“They [woodpeckers] are considered ecosystem engineers because they make habitat for so many other species,” explained Joan.

“So, if I see some sort of hole, it is likely something lives in there?” I asked.

“It’s likely,” Joan responded.

Preferences

Eventually, the trail bent and moved away from the creek, heading out on a slowly rising wooded ridge dominated by Douglas-fir.

Standing out in the mix of trees was the statuesque Pacific madrone, with its red shredded bark and green leathery broadleaves leaning out along the trail’s edge.

“In the fall, the madrones have a lot of berries and the band-tailed pigeons were feasting,” Joan reminisced. “They were covering the trees!”

Joan also noted how madrones tend to have cavities in live trees, unlike conifers that need to be dead or dying.

I asked Joan if certain species prefer certain trees.

In general, primary cavity nesters prefer hard snags. However, there also seem to be some preferences in terms of tree species.

“Pileated Woodpeckers like grand fir,” Joan offered as an example, speculating that perhaps it had to do with the decay process. And “Red-breasted Sapsuckers like maple trees,” frequently excavating a nest in a dead branch of a live maple.

Apparently, there is an entire branch of ecology that studies the relationship between primary and secondary cavity nesters and the trees they occupy. Joan mentioned “cavity-nest webs” as a way researchers aim to delineate and describe the complexity of these relationships.

In any event, there is one consistency—“good snags are scarce” and hard to come by.

Harvest Unit

Speaking of good snags, soon Joan and I crested the hill, we broke out of the forest into a clear-cut harvest unit littered with snags and potential snags.

“It is really nice to have something out here,” said Joan referring to all the trees that were left behind.

Joan has consulted on previous harvest projects and recommended that forest managers leave more snags and live trees than might be typical in a clear-cut.

Joan pointed to a large snag with twisted branches that had been left behind.

“That snag they left isn’t worth anything because it is gnarly,” said Joan referring to the potential timber value, “but for wildlife, it is worth a lot.”

Disturbance

Joan was also quick to point out that the clear-cut itself offered some benefits to wildlife.

“There are actually a lot of species that evolved with disturbance,” Joan remarked. “Disturbance is not a bad thing.”

Species like swallows, wrens, pigeons, Purple Martin, and a whole host of raptors benefit from the opening in the canopy.

“This is a phase of forest succession—early seral,” she continued. “When it is natural it is a very diverse stage.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t all good news in the clear-cut, as many of the shrubs that come up during the early seral stage were sprayed with herbicide to give the next generation of conifers a competitive edge.

I was also struck by the small size of the clear-cut and asked Joan about it.

“Is it good to have smaller clear-cuts?”

“There is no one good size,” said Joan.

She explained that for a forest species having a small clear-cut makes the forests more permeable—a species that wants cover can go between trees. However, the larger the clear-cut, the more valuable the area is for a species that needs open areas.

“There is always a trade-off,” said Joan. Her advice for land managers—“be as variable as possible, and work with what is there.”

Ghost Forest

As we walked past the clear-cut with the intact forest on our right, it was easy to assume that the intact forest was in some way “natural” or “right.” But, as Joan reminded me, the conifer forest only exists on this hillside as a product of colonialism.

“Before the European settlers came,” explained Joan. “Native Americans burned this area—it was a bald with scattered oak and scattered Douglas-fir. It was very open.”

With colonialism came fire suppression and the conversion of oak woodlands and prairies into forests.

“If you look in this forest now, you can find old oak trees,” said Joan. “You can tell they are open grow with lateral limbs, but they are dead and decaying…”—overshadowed by Douglas-fir.

We looked deep into the thicket of forest for one of these “ghost oaks,” and found what looked like a mossy, dead limped giant of an oak tree.

“There used to be a bird species that used those,” remarked Joan. “Lewis’s woodpecker—iridescent green with a red breast—they valued the oak and ponderosa pine.”

She sighed, “Now, they don’t nest here. There is not the habitat for them.”

Purple Martin

Then we passed it—a white sci-fi-looking apparatus on the hillside to the left.

“Here is my Purple Martin gourd rack,” laughed Joan. “It is ugly as sin!”

However, what it lacks in aesthetics, it makes up for in function.

Joan explained that the rack is put up to provide a temporary nesting opportunity for Purple Martin—a threatened species here in the west. As insectivores, Purple Martin hunt insects on the wing, so in addition to needing natural cavities for nesting, they also need open space for hunting—a difficult combination to achieve these days.

“The public land has all the big snags but is too dense, and the private land has open areas but not the snags,” explained Joan.

The rack is meant to provide temporary housing until the woodpeckers can create the cavities in snags Purple Martin needs.

However, she cautions people from putting up their own gourd racks. The eastern population of Purple Martin are entirely dependent on people for nesting for this reason. She wants to avoid this in the West.

“Purple martins are the poster child for snags,” she proclaimed.

 Across the clearing, I saw a small cavity in a Pacific Madrone. I asked Joan if that might work for the Purple Martin or some other species.

“It looks good for a pygmy owl,” she replied, “but I am not sure they would want to be out in the open. A flicker would love it,” she laughed. 

What about Yew?

We were nearing our turn off into the woods when we happened past a shaggy-looking Pacific Yew.

“They always make me think of old forests,” Joan smiled.

“Does it do anything for wildlife?” I asked.

“I don’t know anything in particular,” Joan replied. “They are good for cover,” she offered.

What about Joan? We knew what the Yew was up to (being a really cool tree!), but what about Yew? I questioned Joan, pun intended.

 “Right now, I am working on Purple Martin stuff,” she said—tracking them with GPS in collaboration with Klamath Bird Observatory and trying to figure out where they go in winter. So far, she has found that they spend some time in Baja—sounds pretty good to me.

“That is one thing,” she said. “I am trying to finish a bunch of projects,” Joan confessed in preparation for retirement before the end of the year—that also sounds pretty good to me. Maybe she will have to visit Baja?

“Another project is not birds,” she continued, but a carnivore survey using camera traps in the Klamath Network of National Parks.

“We are looking for Marten, Fisher, and Sierra Nevada Red Fox,” said Joan.

She explained that there is a lot of interest in carnivores. They are not only sensitive to environmental change and have been facing declining population rates, but they are also an important part of the food web.

Dense Woods

We were on the steep downhill return trail when I spotted a large patch of Oregon Grape out of the corner of my eye. 

“Do they help birds?” I wondered out loud.

“I don’t know,” Joan responded thoughtfully. “The hummingbirds love the flowers.”

Soon we were considering the Oregon Grape fruits and species that might benefit from them as a food source as well.

In the distance, Joan heard the call of a Kinglet deep in the woods. Kinglets, she told me, were birds that responded negatively to thinning in her graduate research.

“They are beautiful little birds,” she described. “A bright gold crest with a scarlet, orange stripe down the middle.”

She heard the call again—“high and thin.” Whatever she was hearing, I didn’t register.

Learning Birds

“Is it hard to tell birds apart?” I asked.

“Not for me,” she laughed. “But yes.”

So how does one learn? Joan had a few tips.

First, “Come during the off-season,” she suggested. Learn the birds that are common year-round and learn them one at a time.

Second, she recommended using an app, like the Merlin App to help, as it identified with sound, and you can get the results often right away.

Finally, get a feeder. Feeders are an excellent way to meet several of the birds that are around all the time.

Some starter birds include song sparrows, dark-eyed junco, chickadees, nuthatches, and towhees.

It also doesn’t hurt to have a bird with a favorite song. Sometimes that is enough to draw one in. 

“My favorite is the hermit thrush,” said Joan—a high-elevation bird with a song. “It sounds flute-like and ethereal.”

I recalled hearing the bird myself while hiking in the Jefferson Wilderness—singing its heart out well into the evening. Afterward, I had to find out what I was hearing!

Help the Birds

The trail continued down through the dense forest before dropping us back on the wide gravel road we had come up on—back in the riparian forest.

As we made our way back down to our cars, I asked Joan if she had any tips for helping birds.

“Audubon has a list of 10 things you can do for birds,” Joan responded.

“The biggest problems are hitting windows, lights during migration, and cats,” she continued.

So, to help with that, she suggests putting bird strike prevention on any windows that might fool birds, turning out the lights during migration, and keeping pet cats indoors.

Now, with advancements in bird tracking, you can find out when birds migrate through your area, so you know when dark skies are most important.

Pesticides are another concern she brought up.

“Anything that affects insects affects birds.”

Brown Creeper

“Well, we didn’t see very many birds,” Joan remarked when were just about at our cars.

Then, she spotted something up in the trees—a small brown bird hopping up the trunk. It was a Brown Creeper.

“They go way up and then they fly down to the base of the tree or their nest,” Joan noted. 

I watched the Brown Creeper hop its way up a large Douglas-fir trunk before taking flight and landing on another tree nearby.

It was probably feeding on spiders hidden in the bark or collecting web for its nest—a common practice according to Joan.

The light was dimming as we stood and looked up at this small brown bird doing what it does best before we lost track of it.

Trills and Thrills

“That was fun!” proclaimed Joan.

And I too felt satisfied.

We have only heard or seen a few birds, but I was walking away with more bird knowledge than I could have imagined.

High-pitched trills spilled through the trees, like a tumbling stream, as we walked the last few feet to our cars.

And I knew it was the Pacific Wren singing us off.


Joan Hagar is a Research Wildlife Biologist with the U.S. Geological Survey. She has been studying birds and other wildlife professionally for the last 30 years.

Hike with a Cell Biologist

View out toward Marys Peak from the top of the hill.

Let’s talk tiny. I mean really tiny. Like, get out your microscope small. I am talking about cells!  You know them, you love them—those little bags of gobbledygook filled with smaller stuff still, with names like endoplasmic reticulum, ribosomes and Golgi bodies. 

Cells are the building blocks of every living thing on the planet. So despite their size, they are kind of a big deal. So big that on a sunny Thursday afternoon I met up Marc Curtis, a cell biologist from Oregon State University, to talk about the small stuff.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Forestry Club Cabin Trailhead at Peavy Arboretum, Corvallis, OR
  • Distance: 4.8 miles
  • Elevation Gain: approximately 900 feet
  • Details: Plenty of parking at the trailhead. Restrooms available at the arboretum, but not at the trailhead. This hike is part of an extensive trail network throughout the McDonald-Dunn Forest, so there are many options to extend or shorten the hike.

Cell Level Thing

We immediately started hiking uphill from the parking lot along a forest road that leads to Oregon State Universities Forestry Club Cabin, before turning onto the tree-lined trail. As we trudged along several steep sections of the trail, Marc told me about his background. 

Marc was fascinated by cells from a young age. In high school, his father, a Molecular Biologist at the Wistar Institute in Philadelphia, gave Marc a review article on cells and their role in cancer. Marc was hooked. “That just made sense to me, that cell level thing,” he said. “They grow, divide, they talk to each other, they take on different functions and they build the body.”

As an adult, Marc pursued his interest in cells by studying biochemistry at the University of New Hampshire and getting involved in undergraduate research involving cell signaling in the corpus luteum. Later, he moved onto Oregon State University to study cell death, as a graduate student, and eventually cell mutation as a postdoc. 

Grow, Divide, Repeat

Marc has made a career out of thinking about cells, what they do, and how they do it. But cells are so small, invisible to the naked eye. Can we find a way to appreciate cells while on a hike?

A good start is to pay attention to plants. This is where Marc has focused most of his career. 

Unlike humans, plants typically grow throughout their lives—packing on the inches at their tips, as long as conditions allow. Plant growth occurs in the roots and the shoots—where apical meristematic tissue composed of undifferentiated cells grow and divide. Meristematic tissue is also found in the buds and the nodes, the “joints” of a plant. Many different plant tissues and organs can arise from these growth regions, including leaves and flowers.

Marc pointed out the shoot apical meristem on one of the plants we saw along the trail. “It is in there,” he said, directing my eyes to the place where the leaf meets the stem. “That is where you have the undifferentiated cells—the fountain of youth—where new uncommitted cells come from.” 

Marc explained that when these cells divide, they build up from the bottom layer and will eventually differentiate and become tissue, so the cells at the tips can maintain their undifferentiated status. 

Meristematic tissue is found where you see branching on this plant.

Time for a Change of Pace

However, this doesn’t mean these cells remain unaltered throughout the life of the plant.  Because apical meristem divides so prolifically, mutations can accumulate in the meristematic tissue.  Marc studied the process of mutation using meristematic tissue as a postdoc. Mutations are “mistakes” in DNA—a cell’s molecular instruction book—that arise during the replication process or from environmental factors, like UV light. 

Marc was interested in how plant cells are able to bypass mutation so they can continue to grow and divide. Turns out that plant cells are pretty good at this. By maintaining a low level of fidelity during the replication process, cells in the apical meristem can continue their work of supplying the rest of the plant a lifetime supply of—well—cells! This also means there can be 100s of genetic variants in the meristem of one individual plant that can potentially give rise to unique growth forms. Though it seems like this is fairly rare. 

In any event, growth is cellular! So when you see new leaves and flowers emerge in the spring, or look up to the tippy-top of a tree, or notice a new growth pattern in a familiar species—think tiny! Think— grow, divide, repeat! The leaves, flowers, and new growth each year are the result of the microscopic world of cellular division! 

Looking up at the tippy-top of some trees on the trail.

Beauty in Death

In autumn, cells take a turn for the morbid. As Marc and I made our way further up the trail, leaves crunching underfoot, I asked him to explain how cells were involved in the spectacular displays of fall foliage observed during this time of year. 

The process is called autumn senescence—which essentially means a slow, seasonal death. Cells that make up the leaves of deciduous trees start to shut down in the fall in response to changes in daylight hours and temperature. In order to conserve resources, cells “break down chlorophyll and other components,” Marc explained, “leaving carotenoids and other pigments exposed.” Hence, the bright oranges, yellows, and purples. This organized way of dying, allows plants to hold onto difficult to obtain nutrients, like nitrogen, so that later in the spring they can begin to” grow, divide, repeat” once again. 

Bigleaf Maple autumn color (a.k.a. dead/dying cells)

Dead Tissue Eater

However, cells don’t always die in a blaze of colorful glory. Cell death may also be an adaptive defense. Earlier in the hike, Marc talked about his PhD work on a plant that when attacked by a toxic fungus would respond by activating cell death. This might seem like a bad idea at first glance, but by killing off the tissue where the fungi attacked, the plant was able to stave off further damage and prevent the fungus from eating it. You see, this particular fungi was a biotroph, meaning it only consumes living tissue. Dead tissue was entirely unappealing.  

Unfortunately, Marc’s tale has a sad ending. Another fungus came along—a necrotroph, or dead tissue eater—that was able to mimic the biotrophic fungi’s toxin, triggering cell death in the plant. Only in this case, the dead tissue was very appetizing to the fungi. It is a dog eat dog cellular world out there! 

Gall-y

Eventually, Marc and I made it to the top of the Powder House Trail, where the vegetation changed from the Douglas-fir and Big Leaf Maple trees we had spent most of our hike walking through, to a hilltop prairie of grasses and Oaks. Walking amidst the oak trees reminded me of the dozens of oak galls my kiddos and I had spotted amongst the fall foliage on another recent hike in the area. I asked Marc about these odd growths. 

Though he didn’t know a lot of details, Marc did recall that the growth was the result of a parasitic “gall wasp.” The gall wasp will lay its eggs on an oak leaf or twig, usually in the spring. Then, when these eggs hatch into larvae, they release biochemicals that “brainwash” the cells of the leaf or twig into forming a gall. The gall—a growth filled with nutritive cells—envelops the larvae as it forms, protecting and feeding it while it pupates. 

Upon further research, I found that gall shape and structure are unique to each parasite, even between individuals of the same species. And that the growth pattern of galls are so different from normal leaf or branch tissue growth, that “they have been described as new plant organs” with a unique chemical signature. Though it seems there is still more research needed to understand exactly how the larvae control cell growth and division, galls are an impressive example of what I like to call “zombie biology.”

Green Islands

In discussing galls, Marc was reminded of another parasitic relationship that can be observed in the fall—green islands. Green islands are spots on a leaf that will remain green even as the rest of the leaf begins to undergo senescence. Marc explained—the green spots are the result of a fungal infection. “The fungus produces plant hormones called cytokinin which delays senescence.”  This keeps the chlorophyll—the green stuff involved in photosynthesis—from breaking down. Hence the green. This also means the plant’s food factory stays open for business, providing the fungus a continuous supply of sugar. Needless to say, this is a pretty sweet deal for the fungi. 

Green islands on Bigleaf Maple leaves

Wax on, Wax off

As Marc and I meandered along the trail looking for green islands (later we found a few examples), Marc pointed toward a gnarled and twisted tree trunk with peeling red bark straight ahead—a Madrone! 

A personal favorite of Marc’s I walked up to get a closer look. I felt one of the thick, smooth leaves.  “What is going on here?” I asked. “Why do Madrone’s have waxy leaves?” It must be something cellular I thought. 

I was right! “Waxes are secreted by the epidermal cells through the endomembrane system,” Marc replied. The endomembrane system is the machinery in a cell that packages and transports certain molecules, like wax, into the extracellular world. Marc explained, The Golgi probably synthesizes the wax. It is then gathered in vesicles. These vesicles transport the wax to the outer cellular membrane. Here they fuse with the membrane and dump the wax out into the cell wall. And voila—waxy leaves! 

Human bone-building also uses the endomembrane system, Marc shared. Though in this case, the bone cells are spewing out collagen protein—the number one ingredient for bones. Think about it! Our skeletons are made from cells throwing up all day. A fun fact Marc likes to share with his students.    

Waxy leaves on a Madrone tree.

Evolution

Eventually, Marc and I made our descent back towards our cars. On our way down the trail, we chatted about topics ranging from teaching on zoom to plant podcasts. 

Marc was also on the lookout for a liverwort he had been able to identify recently and wanted to see if he could find it again. In addition to several botany courses, Marc also teaches an evolution course at OSU. So with ancient plants on the brain, biological evolution naturally came up as we hiked along. 

Innovation

Like most things, if you haven’t caught on yet, evolution is very much a cellular process. Mutations that occur in reproductive cells, gametes, provide new genetic variation to a population. Meiosis, the development of reproductive cells, does the same by mixing and matching genes so each gamete is unique. 

Of course, there is much more to evolution by natural selection than genetic variation. When passing by a Douglas-fir tree, Marc shared with me his thoughts on the subject. “Bark,” he said, “has a high surface area with all the cracks and creases.” When bark like this evolved it provided opportunities for many other species to evolve on it. “Innovation opens the door for more innovation,” Marc explained. He used the analogy of the internet boom.  Once the internet got started it provided opportunities for online retail, social media, etc. One new idea brought about many more ideas.  Life is similar—a new biological innovation can open up ecological space for new species to emerge. 

Douglas-fir bark with deep ridges.

Listen to a Liverwort

Toward the end of our hike, Marc finally found his liverwort. He pointed out how the “leaf” structure and arrangement was different from that of a moss or any other plant. A difference that Marc had only recently developed an eye for, and I had never considered. In fact, I was pretty sure I have been mistaking liverwort for some other group, like a lichen or moss, my entire life. 

Marc’s liverwort! Check out those “leaves!”

Back at home, I kept thinking about Marc’s liverwort and his thoughts on innovation. And maybe because the world seems so divided, or perhaps it is a personal crisis of faith in mankind, but I can’t help but feel like there is some sort of deeper message here. 

Throughout our hike, the concept of curiosity being essential to scientific work kept coming up. But I think it goes beyond science. We all need to be curious. Open our eyes to the liverworts of the world—not lump them together with lichen or a moss—assuming they are all the same. We need an evolution of the mind! And just like the bark of a tree, innovative ideas will open the mind to more innovative ideas. 

Cells are amazing in their simple mantra—grow, divide, repeat. But it is mutation, change, or innovation—that keeps things moving forward— evolving. 

So, let “new variations” or ideas sink in and become part of your mental framework. If nothing else, you may finally learn to identify a liverwort.

Marc Curtis is an instructor at Oregon State University in the Department of Botany and Plant Pathology. Marc has a Bachelor’s degree from the University of New Hampshire in Biochemistry and PhD from Oregon State University where he studied mutation in plant cells.

Hike with a Wildlife Biologist

Wild about Wildlife

I love wildlife. Watching a bird on the wing or a deer bounding by makes me feel connected to, and appreciative of, the rich web of life on our planet.  Wildlife encounters can also be a source of inspiration and awe. It can be a humbling experience to stand in the majesty of an animal’s presence. 

However, with so many reports of negative wildlife encounters in recent years, with lives lost (both human and animal), the positive experiences of viewing wildlife are sometimes juxtaposed against a background of fear and uncertainty.  The romanticized idea of wildlife and people living in harmony is exactly that- romanticized. By definition a wild animal IS wild and will behave as such.   

Our Love will Survive

Nancy Taylor on the Calloway Creek Trail

As human populations grow and spread more into wild places, we are encroaching into the homes of our wild neighbors. So what can we do? How can we deal with our current situation?  

As I headed to the trailhead to meet Nancy Taylor, ODFW Wildlife Biologist on Valentine’s Day (nonetheless), for a hike in the McDonald-Dunn forest, these questions remained at the front of my mind. Can people and wildlife ever find love again? 

Perhaps I am a romantic, but I believe the answer to that question is YES!   So grab some chocolate, or your preferred hiking aphrodisiac, and join me on a hike with a wildlife biologist. 

The Hike 

Hike at a Glance

Trailhead: Road 540 Trailhead (Parking area right off I-5, opposite ODFW offices)

Elevation Gain: 200 ft 

Miles: 3 miles

Notes:  Additional parking can be found at the Peavy Arboretum Trailhead.  There are many options for adding mileage to the hike. The hike takes place in the McDonald-Dunn Forests, research forest for Oregon State University.  This is a popular hiking area for locals. A Map of the trail system is available online. 

Blurring the Line

From the trailhead, Nancy and I headed southwest into a Douglas-fir forest chatting about what it is like to work for ODFW as a wildlife biologist.  

Nancy explained that her work entails a lot of public relations and outreach. Though her primary duties are with game animals, she is often dealing with reports of wildlife sightings and alerting the public of these sightings.  It has become a large part of her job over the years.

One of the reasons we chose this hike, in particular, is because the McDonald-Dunn forest has become a mecca for wildlife encounters. The Calloway Creek hike is not in a remote area. In fact, part of the trail abuts a street of homes. Yet there are countless wildlife sighting made here and warning signs posted frequently at the trailheads.

Playing Games with my Heart

Wildlife encounters near cities with lots of green space, is not surprising. Forests provide many important wildlife needs, like food, water, and shelter. 

I asked Nancy how the forest we were hiking through ranked when it comes to wildlife habitat. She said it was “not bad.” With a decent amount of browse, nuts and berries it should support species like deer and wild turkey. 

However, though both of us had seen turkey on the trail in the past, neither of us had seen deer in the area before. Perhaps they found better forage in nearby backyards?

Deer game trail- spotted near the start of the hike.

In any event, it didn’t take long to spot a game trail (most likely from deer) running through the forest.

A game trail is a path created by an animal, like deer, through repeated use. Just like people, animals often follow particular paths through an area while they search for food. Even though you may not see the animal, you can gather signs that that were there. Game trails are easy to spot and can be fun to explore while on a hike, especially when the ground is soft enough to reveal the animal’s tracks.

Who are you?

Looking for tracks on another well established game trail.

On one of the game trails, Nancy and I spotted what looked like cat tracks- probably bobcat, based on their size. There were also tons of canine tracks. But they weren’t wolf or coyote- rather, domestic dog tracks. Which begs the question-Are dog tracks wildlife sign? What exactly is wildlife?

Wildlife is any non-domesticated animal- any bird, mammal, amphibian, or reptile that keeps house in the great outdoors is wildlife.  Dogs, cats, cows, and most horses are NOT wildlife. But they can still be fun to look at.

Endless Love? Setting Limits.

I asked Nancy if there are certain wildlife species that are a priority for ODFW.  She said that game species are the priority. Tracking elk and deer populations is necessary in order to set tag limits and manage game populations.  

ODFW and other wildlife management agencies will conduct spotlight deer surveys where they drive around during certain times of the year counting animals at night when they are most active.  For Elk, helicopter surveys are used for a count. 

You may remember from high school Biology class that populations have a natural carrying capacity.  Basically, wildlife populations are limited by their environment as resources are scarce and predators and other threats are an ever present problem.  In the managed world we live in, carrying capacity has become culturally set- based on human needs and desires, as well as the health and well-being of the population.  When it comes to managing wildlife populations, people are a huge part of the equation.  

Roadkill

Another source of information for wildlife biologists on how wildlife is doing is roadkill.  Sadly, another consequence of people moving through places that animals frequent is that they are far too often hit by cars. An Oregon law that went into effect January of 2019, makes it legal for anyone to salvage the meat of a deer or elk that was accidentally killed in a car collision .  A permit must be filled with ODFW within 24 hours of when the animal is salvaged, and everything must be done according to specific guidelines. One such requirement is that the head and antlers must be turned into ODFW within 5 days of salvage. These heads then become a source of important information on wildlife for ODFW.  Age can be determined by looking at the teeth of the animals. Other health conditions can also be examined.  

Nancy told me she had just dissected an elk head that day to look for signs of chronic wasting disease (CWD).  Caused by a prion- a misfolded protein that causes disease in the brains of animals (kinds of like mad cow), CWD creates holes in the brain tissues of elk, leading to strange behaviors, emaciation, loss of function, and even death.  Though not in Oregon yet, this disease is devastating to elk populations in other areas of the country; and there is potential for spread into other animal populations as well, including humans, though no cases have been reported to date.   

My Habitat is Better than yours

Continuing on our hike, we entered a couple of my favorite spots on this trail- 1) a mossy green riparian area dominated by big leaf maple trees and 2) an Oregon White Oak woodland further up-trail.  As I paused to take in the beauty of each of these familiar spots, Nancy explained how valuable these places are for wildlife.  

Riparian areas are incredibly important to wildlife, especially when you think of the disconnected landscapes that wildlife encounter with human roadways and development.  Riparian areas act as natural corridors for animals to move about the landscape. They provide water and a food source for many organisms as well.  Though they can make up less than 1% of the landscape, riparian areas are used by a lot of different species.

Entering the oak woodlands.

Oak woodlands are great because of their abundance of food.  It is all about the nuts and berries! Wildlife signs were much more obvious and abundant when we crossed into this area.  We saw holes in trees and multiple burrows with acorn shells scattered in their entryways.  

Walk on by

Two invasive species found on the trail- Armenian Blackberry and shiny geranium.

As the trail looped back in the direction we came, we entered what looked like heavily impacted area.  There were more invasive species, like Armenian blackberry, holly, and shining geranium, and the forest had less shrubs that would make good browse for deer.  Invasive species, according to Nancy, are problematic for wildlife species for many reasons, they out-compete native vegetation that may be an important food source for some species, and invasives, like Armenian blackberry, can restrict movement for other species, like deer.  Overall, invasive species impact on wildlife is mixed. What might not be a big deal, and perhaps help one species, can really cause problems for another. 

Show ’em Some Love

As we were getting nearer to the end of the trail, I started thinking more about what might be done to resolve problems between animals and humans.  I asked Nancy, what can people do to help wildlife?  

With the biggest problems facing wildlife being habitat loss, Nancy recommended making this the focus. 

There are many simple things people can do to get involved. Nancy suggested planting native plants that deer and elk can feed on, or putting up bird boxes, for example. Remove invasive species on your property, or get involved in a community invasive removal, or help with a native planting. Also, don’t feed wildlife directly.  Dependency on humans for food is unhealthy for a wild animal. 

You can also support laws and initiatives that put habitat conservation at the forefront of policy.  According to Nancy, in Oregon there is a need for forestry policies that ensure better forest habitat.  Nancy shared her concern regarding the loss of understory plants from plantation cuttings.  Being involved in movements to improve forestry practices is another way to help on a larger scale.

Get to know ’em

More research into understanding population interactions and growth, especially for both our predatory species and game species, can also help.  Understanding how animals move across the landscape through fragmented habitat can inform management decisions.  

Wildlife corridors is another consideration, though an expensive one, for helping wildlife deal with our impingement into their range.  At the same time, putting up fences to help keep animals off our own property can help prevent possible negative wildlife encounters. 

Be Safe

Which brings me to another vital point. If we are going to rekindle our wildlife romance, we need to respect wildlife.  Assume wildlife is around you, even if you don’t see it. Know what to do to be safe.

To put it in perspective, cougar populations are over 6,000 with a statewide range in Oregon.  For safety, avoid being out alone during twilight hours and early morning, especially in areas that have good habitat nearby- and don’t run in these places.  Even in a neighborhood setting, be alert and aware of your surroundings at times when cougars are active. If you do see a cougar, make yourself big. If you are attacked, fight back. And again, don’t run. 

I’ll be Watching you

Just for fun- the octopus tree.

We didn’t see any cougar on the trail (though one may have seen us).  However, not long before we made it back to the trailhead, movement in the trees overhead to our right caught my attention. Several birds flew across the trail, landing on some trees to the left, just ahead of where we stood. It was a varied thrush and brown creeper! This was our first and only wildlife sighting during the hike!  The brown creeper entertained us for a moment by climbing up the tree trunk, while the varied thrush perched nearby showing its burnt-orange markings. Then, as quickly as they arrived, they were gone.  There was no time to take a picture.

When on a trail, watching for movement, like that of our bird friends, is one of the best ways to spot wildlife.  There are a lot of wildlife guides out there for those that want to identify birds or tracks/scat, but just paying attention to one’s surroundings, both sites and sounds, is a great way to start to find and appreciate wildlife. Evaluate the habitat potential for the places you frequent, as well, and be on alert in transition areas like the riparian forest or oak woodlands we saw earlier.  Learn about what you might see and how this may change season to season. And if you really want to see wildlife, be out when wildlife are more active- within a few hours of dawn or sunset. 

For the Love of Oregon

In the Pacific Northwest, there is no shortage of opportunities to view a variety of wildlife.  Oregon has eight major ecoregions with unique flora and fauna due to its variable climate and soils.  More habitat diversity means more wildlife diversity. Nancy recommends Cascade Head as a personal favorite hike for viewing wildlife- she once saw a giant pacific salamander on the trail!  She also suggests heading toward the Cascade mountains for hiking. Canyon Creek Meadows is a beautiful hike near Three Fingered Jack that is recommended. 

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

A pile of acorn shells outside a burrow entry way- anybody home?

So get out there and enjoy some wildlife.  Pay attention to your surroundings and be safe.  Notice the habitat that surrounds you and, if you are so inclined, help protect and restore it. It is a privilege to have natural places near our homes and workplaces (for Nancy, nearly a stone’s throw away from her work), but it is not our space alone.  Show some love for wildlife this Valentine’s day month by giving to wildlife what it needs- a little more space to call home.

Nancy Taylor has 17 years of experience working for ODFW out of the Corvallis, OR Office. She has a B.S. in Biological Sciences from Cornell and a Masters in Coastal Ecology from Louisiana State University. Much of her education and background has focused on  wetland ecology and habitat conservation.