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 Wildlife Biologist at Finley National Wildlife Refuge

Looking out at the restored Oak Savannah on the Mill Hill Trail.

When Euro-American settlers arrived in the Willamette Valley of Oregon in the mid-nineteenth century, they encountered a landscape far different from what you see there today.  Historical accounts describe open fields of tall grasses and wildflowers with a few oak trees interspersed.  A biodiverse paradise for songbirds, butterflies, and other species that rely on an open system. Maintained by the indigenous people, the Kalapuya, for centuries—the expansive landscape must have been appealing to many early settlers as well.

Flash forward to modern times—and the Willamette Valley is now a complex of agricultural fields and urban and suburban environs. Most of Oregon’s major population centers, like Portland and Eugene, as well as the state capital, Salem, are in the Willamette Valley. Currently, more Oregonians live and work in the Willamette Valley than in any other part of the state and over 170 crops are grown there. Development has completely altered the landscape. Only about 1% of the Oak Savanna habitat that was once prominent in the area remains. Wetlands, riparian areas, and oak woodlands have all suffered major losses in the Willamette Valley.  

A Few Hold Outs

However, there are still a few holdouts and a lot of effort to maintain and restore what remains of these important habitats. One of the holdouts is Finley National Wildlife Refuge, just a few miles south of Corvallis, OR. And one of the people putting forth the effort to maintain and restore is Nate Richardson, a wildlife biologist for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS). 

I met up with Nate at Finely to hike the Mill Hill Loop and chat about Willamette Valley habitats and the challenges of maintaining and restoring them. 

Nate Richardson on the trail.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Mill Hill Trailhead (or Refuge Headquarters)
  • Distance: approximately 3 miles
  • Elevation Gain: 300 feet
  • Details: This is an easy hike. Most people park at the overlook for the display pond. You can also start at headquarters where there is ample parking. However, when this was written, the lot was closed to visitors. There are bathroom facilities within the refuge.

Into the Woods

Nate and I started out on the trail hiking through oak woodlands. Nate pointed out the structure of the forest. There were a lot of smaller, younger oak trees with a few larger oaks and an understory of shrubs—typical of this habitat type. Oak woodland is a priority habitat in Oregon and provides for many species of concern in Oregon, such as the acorn woodpecker and white-breasted nuthatch. Though we didn’t see any during our hike, the Mill Hill Loop is an excellent spot to look for woodpeckers, said Nate. 

A Tale of Two Trees

However, despite the many functioning aspects of the oak woodland we were hiking through, it didn’t take long before we spotted one of its biggest threats—conifers.  Nate explained how Douglas-fir trees grow much quicker than Oregon’s oak species, like the Oregon white oak. Because of this difference, when Douglas-fir inundate an oak woodland, they tend to outcompete the oak by shading them out.

As we continued down the trail, we could see several examples of Douglas-fir trees in direct competition with the oak.  We even saw a few dead oaks as a result. 

A Douglas-fir tree in competition with an Oregon white oak.

Managing with Fire

In the past, conifer and shrub species were kept in check by the indigenous people of the Willamette Valley—the Kalapuya. For hundreds of years, the Kalapuya used fire to maintain the open habitats of the Willamette Valley for forage and hunting. Without fire, woody species have encroached further and further into the foothills of the Willamette Valley, such that much of the oak habitats, especially upland prairie, has been all but eliminated. 

Mixed Up

As we hiked, further along, the suite of species gradually changed from oak to a mixed forest, to one dominated by conifers. With a much denser overstory of Douglas-fir, our path became almost completely shaded, and oak became non-existent. Instead, big leaf maple made up the deciduous canopy with many shade-loving (or at least shade-tolerant) plants in the understory. Sword fern and snowberry were two species I spotted. 

In general, conifer forests like the one we were hiking through are very common in Oregon and becoming more common in the Willamette Valley.  But that doesn’t mean they don’t have value. Mixed/conifer forests provide habitat for many species, such as black-tailed deer and Swainson’s thrush. Nate told me that even Grey Jay (a species I usually associate with higher-elevation conifer forests) will occupy the site in the winter.  

A Douglas-fir forest with big leaf maples and sword fern.

Everyone Likes Ducks

At one point, the dense trees opened up and a brightly lit clearing of grasses and willows came into view through the thicket. A wetland! Wetlands are areas that tend to retain moisture for a large part of the year.  These soggy bottomlands also provide critical habitat for many species, like wood ducks and beavers that frequent the area. Wetlands are also a target habitat for restoration and protection, as many have been drained for other uses. 

Though Nate works for USFWS, he spends most of his time working on restoration projects that are on private lands; many of which are wetland projects. “People like ducks,” said Nate, so they tend to be the focus of these projects. In fact, Finley was originally established to provide nesting habitat for waterfowl. In this case, the Dusky Canada Goose lost a great deal of habitat from land subsidence following an earthquake. Of course, now the refuge takes a multi-species approach to management, focusing on restoring habitat for many species. Coincidentally, even if a wetland is established in the name of duck, many more species will benefit, including humans. Wetlands provide tons of ecosystem services! Wetlands are amazing water regulators and filters, for example. 

Pure Gold

Then, at long last, we arrived! An upland prairie! One of Nate’s favorite habitats in the refuge. According to Nate, upland prairie habitat is really important to many species of concern in Oregon, like the Oregon Vesper Sparrow and the Streaked Horned Lark.  Plant species like Kincaid’s Lupine, Nelson’s Checkermallow, Bradshaw’s Lomatium, and Willamette Daisy, are also rare but can be seen here. Plus oak savanna habitat is typically the only place in Oregon’s Willamette Valley you are likely to find the state bird—the Western Meadowlark.  

Dominated by grasses, like Roemer’s Fescue, and herbaceous wildflowers, like Oregon sunshine, oak savanna is a colorful Smörgåsbord in early spring. The diversity of grasses and forbs in oak savanna habitat also attracts a diversity of insects, which in turn attracts a lot of birds. Essentially, the entire system is driven by the right mix of native prairie vegetation. 

The view looking out at the restored oak savanna.

Time and Money

However, when it comes to restoration, getting that right mix can be a huge undertaking. Nate explained that the open prairie we were looking at used to be a lot of douglas-fir trees and hardly any grasses.  It took a lot of work, time, and expense to bring it back to a near-native state. Cutting down trees, mowing, and burning, as well as replanting native species, are all part of the restoration process.  A process that doesn’t really have an end, as continued mowing, burning and plantings are often needed to maintain the habitat. For example, golden paintbrush, a plant that was once extirpated from the state, needs regular burning to be maintained. Also, as a hemiparasitic species, golden paintbrush benefits from associations with other native species, like Oregon sunshine. 

Visit this spot in spring to see golden paintbrush in bloom, along with a whole host of other wildflower species.

Is it enough?

As you can see, restoration work can get pretty complicated. Research into understanding what species do best, and in what conditions, is another important component of restoration work. However, there is also the question of just how much to restore. Do you want an oak savanna that is 90% native, or will 60% do? Nate talked about the challenges around this sort of decision-making. If you can get an ecosystem 60% restored for a lot less cost and effort, maybe that is enough to restore the ecological function of the prairie. And if that is the case, shouldn’t we stop there? He didn’t have an answer. Nor do I. But these are important considerations for any restoration and/or management plant. When do we let nature do its thing? 

Connect the Dots

Another perhaps even bigger challenge when you are trying to restore an ecosystem that is about 99% lost is connectivity.  Nate explained—Many species need large tracts of land and the ability to migrate between and through the landscape in order to obtain desirable population densities.  Population density is simply the number of individuals in a population that live in a given area. “Song birds really need it,” said Nate, “small places are great, but song birds need more.”  When there is a large enough tract of land that is not segmented, the densities of birds, like the Western Meadowlark, are substantially increased. 

The question is how do we create connectivity? We don’t want the “traditional corridor of trees,” said. Though there is no simple answer, Nate does hope to improve conditions where he can. As mentioned earlier, a lot of the restoration work Nate does is off the refuge property, often in locations adjacent to a refuge. Helping landowners establish habitat on their property can expand the land area that supports species. Then, as Nate described, others see what is happening and want to get involved “and things spiderweb out.” 

A Rare Sight

One of the rarest habitats on the refuge (and in Oregon) is the wet prairie. Due to their location, Occurring in lowlands, especially floodplains, many wet prairies have been converted to agricultural land. Wet prairies are also different from upland prairies as they retain water for a portion of the year making them ideal for plants that like to occasionally get their feet wet. Water-tolerant grasses, like tufted hair grass, sedges, and wildflowers dominate wet prairies.  Unfortunately, the wet prairie is also rare on the Mill Hill Loop—we didn’t see any. 

According to Nate, you have to go to the Prairie Overlook to see wet prairie habitat. Besides being wet prairie, the land adjacent to the overlook is designated a Research Natural Area, set aside for education and research. It is also really special because it is one of the few places in the Willamette Valley that was never tilled. 

Looking out at the wet prairie from the Prairie Overlook.

Important Matters

As we finished the loop and made our way back to park headquarters, I asked Nate why people should care about protecting and restoring wildlife habitat. For Nate, it is all about awe—only in these places can you see a rare blue butterfly or hear a woodpecker cackle, or watch ten thousand geese take flight off the marsh. Experiences like these can inspire people to care about and appreciate the ecosystems around them.

Awe and Inspiration

We were nearing the golden hour as Nate and I parted ways both to our respective homes. But before I left, I pulled over at the Prairie Overlook to take a peek at the wet prairie Nate had mentioned earlier. With my mood light and the sun setting low in the sky over an expansive golden landscape, I really did feel a sense of awe and appreciation. It is amazing what a little bit of nature (and science) can do for the human spirit.

Nate Richardson has worked as a wildlife biologist for the USFWS for 12 years restoring native habitat for the Partners for fish and wildlife program. He got his BS in wildlife science at Oregon State in  2004 focusing on avian conservation and management. In his free time, he enjoys hiking, climbing, fishing, and spending time with his 9-year-old son. 

Hike with a Terrestrial Wildlife Biologist

Looking onto Crabtree Lake.

The soft, spongy earth sinks and swells beneath my feet. Branches and needles tower overhead from trunks of various sizes and shapes, diffusing the light and casting shadows. The edges of grasses and herbs slip past my ankles, while shrubs tickle my things and hips. All the while an orchestra of whistles and sing-song sounds float on the wind, and a bouquet of sweet and musty smells rise and fall from the ground. Step, climb, dip, and try not to trip—this is what it is like to hike through a forest. 

When I met up with Corbin Murphy, BLM Wildlife Biologist, at the Crabtree Lake Trailhead, I knew that I was in for an adventure. The plan was to follow a trail down into the Crabtree Lake Valley, and then bushwack into the woods to reset some camera traps that needed tending to. We would eventually make it down to Crabtree Lake to one of the oldest forests in Oregon. I knew that walking would be a bit rough, but the payoff was worth it. I was right.

Corbin Murphy checks on his Beaver Dam Analog in the meadow.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Crabtree Valley Trailhead
  • Distance: 4-5 miles
  • Elevation Gain: about 900 ft
  • Details: Roads to the trailhead are gravel but in decent condition. The last half mile of road is rough, but I made it with my Honda Civic. The usual route for this hike follows a decommissioned road down. Take a sharp right once you reach a road and follow it up to Crabtree Lake.

Diverse Species 

Entering a forest should be a rich, multisensory experience—an orchestra of sights, sounds, and scents.  It should be a tangled web of life! Complex ecosystems are not only more aesthetically pleasing, but they also tend to be resilient and functional. 

Paying attention to the diversity of species in an ecosystem is an important part of being a wildlife biologist. So, as Corbin and I began our hike along an old decommissioned road heading down toward Crabtree Valley, he was on high alert for the sights and sounds of the forest. It didn’t take long before we started talking about the different plants and animals we were seeing and hearing on the trail. 

Sounds of Life

Listening for birds was of particular interest to Corbin. He pointed out the high pitched electronic sounding whistle of a varied thrush and two-note chirp-chirp of a flycatcher. Because many birds are shy and difficult to spot in a forest, wildlife biologists often use bird calls to count birds instead of relying on visual identification. 

As part of his work, Corbin shared how he has been participating in breeding bird point-count surveys recently.  To conduct this kind of survey you drive along a transect an hour before dawn, stopping every half-mile for two minutes to listen, and identify bird calls. Point-counts are useful for biologists because they give us a better idea of what species are present in an ecosystem, and over time can see declines in specific species populations as well.

Green Stuff

In addition to birds, the variety of plant life also attracted our attention. Corbin pointed out several species of wildflowers, shrubs, and trees—you know, all the pretty green stuff.

It is easy to appreciate the importance of green stuff (a.k.a. plants) to an ecosystem.  From an early age, we learn that plants provide oxygen to breathe and food to eat. But not all plants are equal. Like animal species, each species of plant has its own role to fulfill in the ecosystem. In some cases, providing special benefits to select species. Thus, we need a diversity of plant life to support the diversity of life in an ecosystem. 

When it comes to conifer forests, less abundant deciduous trees and shrubs play a disproportionately large role in supporting the ecosystem. According to Corbin, conifer needles are generally not very nutritious. They have a low energy density, making them unable to support many invertebrate species. In contrast, deciduous trees and shrubs make a lot more energy available to support an abundance of species.

Deciduous trees along the trail.

Biological Desert

According to Corbin, a forest is more than just trees. A forest should have an understory of shrubs and forbs. In a natural system, stochastic disturbances, like forest fires, allow for the establishments of an understory.  High-density tree plantations do not. Corbin explained, “shrubs and forbs compete with seedlings. So they will establish, and they can dominate a site for anywhere from 30 to 300 years.” This stage of the forest is called “early seral” and is an important stage of forest development. 

However, in a tree plantation, this long period of competition is undesirable. Instead, a more profitable high-density forest is established, and the early seral stage of forest development is shortened or eliminated.  This creates “a biological desert,” said Corbin, “You have conifer trees and hardly any understory—any vegetation at all. You can literally count the number of plants and animals on one hand.”

That is why managing forests, like that surrounding Crabtree Lake, requires an eye for biodiversity. Forest density and early seral species should be considered. We don’t just need a bunch of any kind of plant, but we need an assortment of plants.

Look-Alike

Of course, even between deciduous understory trees, diversity of species is important. When hiking through a forest, it is easy to be blind to plant diversity. Everything can seem nondescript in a wash of greenery. But with a keen eye, even close look-alike species can be distinguished from one another.  

As we walked through a tunnel of deciduous trees and shrubs, Corbin pointed out a couple of look-alike pairs of species hidden in the foliage. 

One of the pairs that sat side-by-side was the Vine Maple and Rocky Mountain Maple also called Douglas Maple. Though very similar looking in size and general shape, vine maples tend to have more lobes, usually nine, than Rocky Mountain Maple, usually three.  Also, the Rocky Mountain Maple’s leaves have sharply toothed margins, while the Vine Maple’s leaves’ margins are doubly toothed.

Red Alder and Sitka Alder were another pair of look-alikes found on the trail. Again, though similar looking at first glance, the growth form of the Red Alder is straighter and taller, while the Sitka Alder is shorter and more shrubby.  Also, if you look closely at the leaves, the Red Alders’ leaf margins roll under slightly, while the Sitka Alders’ leaf margins are sharply toothed. 

All this to say, there are a lot of different kinds of green-stuff in a forest. 

Rocky Mountain Maple leaf overlaid with Vine Maple Leaf.

A Special Place

Before dropping down toward the lake, Corbin and I stopped to look down at where we were headed. Corbin explained that we were about to enter a really special place. Perhaps one of the oldest forests in Oregon, the Crabtree Lake Valley, and surrounding areas, are all part of the Crabtree Valley Complex—“An Area of Critical Environmental Concern (ACEC) due to its outstanding geological, recreational, and ecological value.”

Crabtree Valley was created during the last ice age. Glaciers carved out large amphitheater-like valleys, called cirques, which protected much of the forest from fire for perhaps 1,000 years. Later, for whatever reason, it remained unlogged.  Making it a perfect example of a late-successional forest and refuge for species, like the Northern Spotted Owl. 

So when the BLM acquired the land in the 1980s, it fell under ACEC status and a management plan was put in place in order to protect its values. Which brings us to today where it is still under a resources management plan as a late-successional reserve. 

View into the meadow with protective rock.

Management to Protect

One of the ways the BLM has been working to meet the goals of the resource management plan is by reducing roadways in the area. Though some areas within the Crabtree Lake Complex were never logged, logging was still rampant in the region. In fact, the first part of our hike was on an old logging road through an area that was probably logged in the 70s or 80s.

So in order to enhance and restore what we might expect from a late-successional reserve, the BLM decommissioned most of the roads, ripped them up, put in waterbars, and took out culverts—all efforts to restore the natural functions of the forest. 

Give a Hoot

Eventually, we made our way down to the lower valley floor and into the late-successional forest reserve. Here we took a sharp left onto another road Corbin said he usually uses to access the property. He also told me that the road is where the BLM does surveys for Northern Spotted Owl. Every half-mile along the road is a survey station where a biologist will stop for 10 minutes to call and listen for spotted owls. 

There are two pairs of spotted owls reported within the watershed, Corbin said, because “the habitat is so great in this area.” This is unusual because spotted owls usually need a 1.2 mile home range in the Cascades, but these nesting pairs are only about a half-mile apart. Not only that, but last year the pairs each had two juveniles. Which is remarkable because, as Corbin explained, “other than that, there was zero reproduction in spotted owls from Sweet Home in the BLM up to the Columbia River.” 

Wear Layers 

Continuing down the road, the dynamics of the forest opened up— there were tall douglas-fir trees and hemlock; open areas with shrubs and smaller trees; and snags and down logs. 

 “One of the big things about late-successional forests too is the structure,” said Corbin.  You want to see “horizontal and vertical heterogeneity” in a late-successional forest.

Basically, a forest like the one we were observing, starts with a lot of Douglas-fir, but then over the next hundred years, holes open up in the canopy that allows shrubs and shade-tolerant trees, like hemlock, to grow and fill in gaps.  

This development of structure is important because it creates habitat for wildlife. A forest that lacks diverse forest structure is simply not conducive to the wildlife that needs late-successional forest.

Corbin told me about a transect study that looked at how flying squirrels fared when there were big trees, but no holes for shrubs and smaller trees available for the development of an understory. The squirrels had the big trees they needed for food and nesting, but there was not enough cover for them to avoid predation. Needless to say, the outcome wasn’t great for the squirrels 

Highly structured forest observed along the road.

A Rotten Heart

At one point, Corbin and I came across a down tree with heart rot. Which brings me to another component of late-successional forest that adds to its complexity— dead stuff.

If the down tree with heart rot was actually standing, or a snag, it would provide habitat for cavity nesters like woodpeckers. As a large down log, it creates habitat for hundreds of invertebrates, bacteria, and fungi, as well as amphibians. 

The importance of dead trees cannot be overemphasized. In fact, often land managers create snags by girdling trees in an attempt to mimic the natural process of snag formation. Unfortunately, according to Corbin, it generally doesn’t work very well.  The natural process is slow, possibly taking a couple of hundred years for a snag to form. There really isn’t a quick way to recreate that. 

In addition, Oregon slender salamanders, a species of concern, rely on the late-successional forest for large down wood. This species is endemic to Oregon and is doing O.K. right now, but as timber harvesting continues to produce young 20-30 years old forests, things could get dicey. Less large down wood means less of an important microhabitat that Oregon slender salamanders need to survive.

This is why on federal public lands, Corbin explained, “we are trying to institute measures to have leave trees, and these are the legacy trees from the previous cohort, and those are the ones that have all the lichens and bryophytes—create a little refugium—and those eventually become snags and fall over.” 

Downed Log with heart rot as seen on the trail.

Leave it to Beaver

Not long after passing the downed log, Corbin and I headed off-trail to check on a beaver dam analog (BDA) that was put in last fall.  As we climbed through the underbrush, Corbin explained that beavers were historically present in the wet meadow we were about to visit, pooling the water and creating a much larger lake. We even some old beaver sign to confirm it.

However, when roads were constructed in the area, the beavers disappeared. Corbin hypothesized that they could have been trapped. Since then, trees have started to encroach into the wet meadow, altering the historically flooded area and shrinking the lake.  

Then, a couple of years ago, Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife and BLM joined forces in an effort to reintroduce beavers into the area.  Several beavers were released into the watershed. But they didn’t stay. 

Now, the BLM is working on a soft release program in the hopes that the next group of beavers they introduce won’t go away.  That is why the BLM constructed the BDA—in an effort to make the meadow homier. Once established, beavers, a keystone species, will naturally alter the ecosystem; hopefully, restoring the meadow to historical conditions.

A Beaver Dam Analog (a.k.a—fake beaver dam) in the wet meadow.

Fishing for Fishers

After visiting the BDA, Corbin and I continued a bit further down the road before making our way back into the woods again. This time we bushwacked our way to one of the camera-traps Corbin needed to reset. The camera traps were set up as part of a Forest Carnivore Research Project started by Katie Moriarty from Oregon State University. The BLM adopted a project grid area, and are working on tracking the carnivores that visit each camera trap site. 

The overall goal of the projects is to determine if Pacific Fishers are present in the Western Cascades. Historically, Corbin shared, Pacific Fishers ranged from California up through British Columbia. But their range has shrunk in Oregon over the years and now there is no record of Pacific Fishers anywhere north of Eugene. Later, as part of the carnivore project, Fishers will hopefully be reintroduced into areas like the Crabtree Lake Valley. 

As Corbin worked to reset the camera trap and bait it, I asked him about why the reintroduction of Fishers is important. He explained that Fishers are candidate species for ESA listing, which makes them important in the eyes of the government.  Candidate species are in danger of extinction in at least part of their range.

Species extinction is a concern because, as mentioned earlier, each species has a role in the ecosystem. Pacific Fishers are top predators. They help regulate populations of organisms that sit below them in the food chain. They are also opportunistic feeders and primarily prey on small mammals, including squirrels and even porcupines. Thus the loss of Fishers could have ripple effects on the forest food web—allowing porcupine populations to increase, for example, which could lead to excessive damage to trees they feed on.

Carnivore Project bate opposite camera trap.

Forest Walking

After resetting the first camera trap, we did some serious bushwhacking up to the next one before heading down to crabtree lake.  As we made our way to the lake, I was taken aback by the grandeur of the forest. I felt small beside the mammoth-sized trees, but at the same time, perfectly natural walking across a huge moss-covered log. We were really in the thick of the forest.  

Here we did the forest dance—climbing, ducking, and trying not to trip. We saw more life, including a small salamander hiding amongst a pile of old deadwood. We talked about huckleberries that would ripen in late summer. And craned our necks looking up at the tallest trees in the forest. 

During the last leg of our hike, the biodiversity of habitat and species was all around us—the promise of spotted owls, flying squirrels, and future fisher. This is what hiking in a forest is all about! 

Corbin doing the “forest dance” as we bushwhacked our way to Crabtree Lake.

Corbin Murphy is a Wildlife Biologist for the Salem District of Bureau of Land Management. He has been with the BLM for 11 years and currently works in the Cascades Field Office. He has also worked for the U.S. Forest Service.

Hike with a Habitat Wildlife Biologist

View of the Sandy River from the trail at Oxbow Regional Park.

10 Essentials

When you are out hiking, it is often recommended that you bring along “the 10 essentials:” navigation, sunscreen, knife, first aid, headlamp, fire starter, shelter, extra clothes, extra food, and extra water. These items are necessary for your survival, especially when things don’t go according to plan. 

Wild animals also have “essentials”—things they need to survive. However, unlike humans, they can’t carry these in a pack but must find what they need in their environment. In a healthy, unaltered ecosystem, this can be a challenge. In a heavily impacted ecosystem, it can become impossible. 

Meet Bill

As a habitat wildlife biologist for over 40 years, Bill Wieler’s CV is jam-packed with conservation, education, and restoration work. Bill has spent his entire career studying how to best protect wildlife and ensure their essential needs are met; as well as, worked on countless restoration and enhancement projects to that end. 

So when I met up with Bill at the Alder Group Picnic area at Oxbow Regional Park near Gresham, Oregon to begin our hike, I was thrilled to learn more, not just about wild animals, but the places they live and how we can do our part to protect them. 

Bill Wieler standing next to a Pacific yew.

The Hike

  • Trailhead: Alder Group Picnic Area
  • Distance: 2+ miles 
  • Elevation Gain: approximately 400 ft
  • Details: It costs $5 for parking. There are about 12 miles of hiking trails to explore. There are many different trail entry points to choose from. 

Yew Should Consider the Yew

Starting down the trail, one of the first things Bill pointed out was a Pacific yew tree. I love Pacific yew trees. As slow-growing conifers, they are often hidden among taller, more conspicuous trees. I often find them dripping with layers of moss and lichen, almost entirely concealing their noteworthy beautiful red bark. 

“It used to be considered a weed tree with no timber value,” said Bill, referring to the yew. He explained, only later, did scientists discover that its bark could be used to produce a cancer-fighting drug called taxol. “I always mention yew because it shows we really should be taking care of everything because we don’t know what animals and plants can provide.” 

Pacific yew along the trail.

Wildlife is Essential 

Wildlife is essential—it provides a host of benefits. Not every species will provide a cancer-fighting chemical like the Pacific yew, but ecosystems that contain a lot of different species have the potential to provide a myriad of benefits. 

According to Bill, “we depend upon natural ecosystems for many of our needs.”  “Food, fuel, and fiber” are perhaps the first of these benefits that come to mind. However, there are many less obvious benefits, including clean air and water, decomposition of wastes, and flood protection. This is not to mention the many social and emotional benefits biodiverse ecosystems offer. As Bill puts it, “they give us a complete, more healthy world. They enhance our sense of wonder and place.” 

Edible red huckleberries were abundant along the trail.

Moving Up

Unfortunately, most species are lost quietly without anyone noticing—species are lost before we even have a chance to appreciate their value. Even well-known species have faced threats because we have undervalued them.  For example, during the 1900s wolves were nearly eradicated from the lower 48 states in the U.S. because they were seen as dangerous to livestock operations.

Bill is optimistic though. He told me how he often polls people regarding their feelings on various wildlife species. And wolves, among other once-hated-species, have been moving up the list. As scientists have come to recognize the role of top predators in keeping other populations in check—what Bill referred to as “trickle-down ecology”—public acceptance of wolves has improved. For some reason, Bill hasn’t seen a large shift in public opinion when it comes to mosquitos and ticks though. 

Forest Dynamics

As we hiked deeper into the Douglas-fir/Hemlock forest, our conversation shifted from individual species of trees to consider forests. Forests are more than a collection of trees. Rather, healthy forests are dynamic ecosystems that operate as a unit. In fact, many of the wildlife benefits discussed earlier are really a function of a biodiverse ecosystem and not individual species.

According to Bill, there are six structures of a healthy forest ecosystem: 1) big trees, 2) snags, 3) logs, 4) soil, 5) open spaces, and 6) canopy layers. All of these components work together to keep the ecosystem functioning. 

While big trees provide excellent habitat for some species, like bats; when trees fall in the forest, it opens up space for new species and canopy layers to grow. These new species provide new resources and increased ecosystem resiliency. In addition, the down-wood and standing dead trees called snags, that remain following a blowdown, provide habitat for a host of insects and bacteria.  In fact, dead trees can host far more species than living trees, according to Bill. Then, over time the woody material decomposes, which builds the soil, providing nutrients for the next generation of forest plants. 

Can you find the six structures of a healthy forest in this picture?

Observations of a Forest

Bill pointed out that all of the six structures are observable in the forest at Oxbow Regional Park. The park even has some old-growth forest within its boundaries. In contrast, a forest that has been managed for timber production is less likely to contain all of these structures and/or in less abundance. For example, 8-10 snags per acre are typical of a healthy forest, while forestry laws only require leaving behind 2 per acre following a clearcut. 

So next time you visit a forest, go ahead—count up the snags; note the various stages of log decomposition; observe how light filters through the canopy layers down to the forest floor; wrap your arms around a big tree. Though much of the changes that occur in a forest are slow, you can still appreciate the dynamics of the forest if you take the time to pay attention. 

A big Douglas-fir seen along the trail.

Fish Need Forests

As Bill and I followed the trail in a southwesterly direction, we found ourselves hiking just above the banks of the meandering course of the Sandy River. The Sandy River is about a 56 miles long tributary to the Columbia River and, apart from the Columbia, has the highest productivity of salmonid species in Oregon. Efforts to enhance the Sandy River to ensure it can continue to support salmonid populations are a big part of Bill’s current and past work. 

However, while discussing salmon with Bill, he directed my attention back toward the forest. He pointed out a large down tree near the trail. You see, forests are not only important to terrestrial wildlife.  Fish need forests too. 

Down-tree that Bill pointed out during our hike.

Bill explained, trees in streams and rivers, especially those with roots, provide a place for fish to hide from predators. They also disrupt the flow of water—creating a more dynamic stream channel with resting pools, gravel for fish to spawn in, and habitat for invertebrates.

Historically, the Sandy River had many logjams, as logs naturally recruit in stream beds over time. However, much of the logs in the Sandy River were removed by the Army Corps in the 60s as part of flood control efforts. Since then, returning logjams to the Sandy River has become an important part of stream enhancement work today. 

The Log Father

They call me the “log father,” Bill said—a nickname he acquired due to his persistent hunt for large trees needed for stream restoration. However, creating a log jam is not as simple as finding dislodged trees and dumping them in the river.  It takes a lot of planning, engineering, and equipment to get large logs in place and secure them. It is expensive work too! According to Bill, logjams are like icebergs— they are mostly underground. Human-constructed logjams must be secured in the ground in order to function properly, as well as to prevent them from being washed away in a big storm.

Later, after Bill and I parted ways, I spent some time walking the trails along the Sandy River looking for logjams. I was able to spot the top of several just at the water’s surface.

Logjams in the Sandy River.

Dismal to Happy 

After some time, Bill and I reached a small bridge that went over a very small stream.  This creek used to be named “Dismal Creek,” Bill told me, but now it is called “Happy Creek.” Why? Easy! We were standing next to an old floodplain of the Sandy River that had become disconnected during the age of dams, log removal, and channelization of rivers.

Happy Creek was an attempt to bring water back into the river system by restoring one of its side channels. In order to achieve this goal, a culvert was added on the opposite side of the road to collect runoff and divert it to the floodplain—turning dismal creek into a happy water-filled channel, with even happier consequences. 

What are those happy consequences? Well for starters, floodplains make excellent feeding grounds for fish; they also are a great place for fish to escape turbulent flows and find rest.  In addition, floodplains help reduce river pollution by collecting sediments and removing nutrients. Of course, one of the big reasons floodplains are making a comeback is because they reduce flooding and prevent erosion by dispersing flood energy away from areas we want to protect, like homes and businesses. 

Happy Creek.

How to Restore

Bill and I hiked down to the floodplain to observe it more closely. Seven years ago, Bill was the lead on the “Happy Creek Project,” so he was anxious to see how it was doing. When we got down there, he was thrilled to see the channel they had created had water in it. Though there was no way to know if the Sandy River or Happy Creek was the source of water, he was thrilled to see it was still wet this late in the year. 

The floodplain channel still filled with water in June.

Restoration is still fairly “new science.” Bill discussed that even during the initial phases of the Happy Creek Project, plans were easily dismantled as the team responded to nature. For example, at one point during the project, they found Pacific Lamprey in the restoration site. This was exciting news! But it also required the team to adapt their plans in order to protect the fish.

Failure is part of the gig when it comes to restoration work, but along with it further understanding. “I have learned a lot from each project,” Bill told me. Observing and continuing to monitor projects will only reveal more. Bill said that he hoped to see gravel one day get washed into the floodplain here, creating spawning habitat. Will it? Only time will tell.

Looking Out for Fish

Even though restoration results vary widely, scientists do know a lot about what good fish habitat looks like.  We know what fish need. So if you are visiting a river or stream, Bill suggests looking for several features in order to assess its habitat quality for fish. First, he suggests checking the water temperature. Many fish species in the Pacific Northwest require really cold water to survive and reproduce. If the temperature feels good to you, it is probably too warm for the fish. Second, check the turbidity, or how difficult it is to see the stream bottom. Cloudy water is often the result of sediment pollution and can clog gills or smother fish eggs. Third, look for a variety of substrates in the water. Are there logs and boulders for insects to live on? Is there gravel for spawning? Finally, check for man-made barriers, like culverts that may make travel impossible for migratory fish. 

Of course, if you find any of these features missing, you can also do something about it! For instance, joining your local watershed council is a great way to be involved and learn about restoration work you can participate in locally.

Living with Wildlife 

About halfway through our hike, we looped back up to the road and crossed it to join a trail on the other side.  Just before we made the loop, I asked Bill about what he felt were the important issues or topics in wildlife today. His answer really came down to one major theme—education. Most people still really don’t understand the habits of wildlife. We don’t know how to live with wildlife. 

He explained—when it comes to wolves, for example, we have removed them from the endangered species list because their numbers are up. Yet, their distribution is very limited with packs only established in few places. According to Bill, for animals that have this sort of clumped distribution, delisting just doesn’t make sense

Another example Bill offered was with coyotes. Some people really don’t like coyotes and will kill them on sight. Never mind that coyotes are a minor threat compared to other species, but killing them is counterproductive. As Bill described it, coyotes have an innate reproductive trait that causes them to increase their litter size—from 2-3 up to as many as eight pups—when their numbers are threatened.

Then there is the deer problem. Most people don’t worry about deer populations, and may even feed deer—treating them like wild pets—attracting them into suburban and urban areas. However, according to Bill, deer are the most dangerous wildlife species of all, with more people becoming injured or even dying from deer-related automobile accidents. 

Risk Perception

Perhaps more than any other species, Mountain Lion threat is most misunderstood. Bill told me about a study he was involved in called CAT: scientists, with the assistance of local students radio-collared 25 mountain lions in order to see how much they were interacting with human populations. They found that mountain lions stayed away from people. The only time a mountain lion was tracked near humans during the study was in a case where a farmer was attracting deer, their primary food source.

Yet, people fear cougars because of a few newsworthy incidents. According to Bill, the result of these reports, and associated fears, means more taxpayer dollars being diverted toward tracking down and killing cougars, often without good reason.

If you are personally afraid of mountain lion encounters, Bill recommends avoiding dusk and dawn visits to areas where cougars have been sighted, especially if you plan to bike or run.

Overall, there are better ways to reduce cougar associated risk that doesn’t involve killing the animal.

A Changing Climate

Speaking of changing public perception of risk, climate change remains a risk worth paying attention to throughout the world, including in the Sandy River Watershed.

As Bill and I trekked through some heavy mud on the trail back to where we parked, he made a point to discuss his concerns with climate change. Bill explained—when it comes to climate change we know very little about how it will impact most wildlife species. We know fish will be profoundly impacted, for example, but the extent of the impact is still tenuous.

But, Bill emphasized, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do anything about it. In fact, the Sandy River is a cold water refuge for fish traveling in the Columbia River, making it a priority area to protect from climate change.

Bill’s favorite climate change solution is trees. He said that any chance he gets to talk to a climate scientist he asks them about planting trees, and he always gets a positive response.

Thus, under Bill’s direction, about 1.5 million trees and shrub species have been planted in the Sandy River Delta, with future plans to plant more in surrounding areas. Bill focused on using native trees in the plantings, including regionally native trees, such as madrone, oak, and ponderosa pine, chosen as a way to prepare for Oregon’s climate in the coming decades.

Is it just me, or am I sensing a theme?  Trees are not only essential for both terrestrial and aquatic habitat needs right now, but their importance extends much further—as they play a role in improving Earth’s climate future. 

A patch of old growth found along the trail.

Appreciating Wildlife

During the last stretch of the hike, I asked Bill one final question, how can we be more like him? How can someone start thinking and behaving more like a wildlife habitat biologist? Bill had a lot of great answers (some of which I mentioned in earlier sections). However, one idea that stood out as significant was the need to spend quality time appreciating nature. 

Bill emphasized the need to spend time in stillness and silence. He talked about a youth education program he was involved in years ago. One of the activities was a 15-minute silence-solitude station. He talked about an eight-year-old who was determined to remain still during the activity—she didn’t move even when it was clear something was creeping up behind her. Eventually, she was face to face with a doe. “That kind of experience stays with you forever,” Bill emphasized. “One-on-one experiences with nature are invaluable.” 

I tend to agree.

Though I draw the line with mosquitoes. Sorry, Bill! I just can’t!  

Bill Weiler worked for 20 years for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife. He now works full time with the Sandy River Watershed Council and as a wildlife habitat consultant.  He is also the author of the book, “Don’t Run From Bears: Living With Wildlife in the Columbia River Gorge.”

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.