Adventure-Crew.com

Submitted by Kurt Repanshek on September 21, 2011 – 1:36am
National Parks Traveler.com

 

I wasn’t really sure what to expect from Glacier Bay National Park, outside of glaciers, of course. But it didn’t take long to realize this Alaskan park is a birder’s paradise. From the “poor man’s puffin” to dwindling numbers of Kittlitz’s murrelets, I was rewriting my birding success.

 

And not in days, but in minutes.

 

“Did you see all the young Glaucous-winged gull (Larus glaucescens) chicks?,” park Ranger Linda Lieberman asked as we sat on the day-cruise ship Baranof Wind just off South Marble Island. “For those of you who want to see Common Murre (Uria aalge), the light is shining on them over here.”

 

Not only were there Glacous-winged gulls and Common Murre — an upright standing auk that, with its snow-white chest and belly, resembles a penquin — but also Horned Puffins (Fratercula corniculata), Tufted Puffins (Fratercula cirrhata), Marbled murrelets (Brachyramphus marmoratus), an occasional Kittlitz’s murrelet (Brachyramphus brevirostris), and Black-legged Kittiwakes (Rissa tridactyla).

 

And it wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet.

 

Birds teem to Glacier Bay, thanks in no small part to its nutrient-rich waters — and insect-filled skies and seed-bearing forests in summer and early fall — along with its plentiful, and diverse, breeding habitat. Bird habitat in the park ranges from rocky slopes revealed in the not-too-distant past by receding glaciers to coastal rain forest and muskeg landscapes. In slender arms of the park’s waters, such as in Dundas Bay, extreme tidal fluctuations help churn up and reveal meals for many species. And the fact that the Pacific flyway makes a beeline across the park doesn’t hurt the overall species diversity, either.

 

There are an estimated 240 bird species in the park, and it seems like you see most of them on a day cruise from Bartlett Cove to South Marble Island 15 miles north and on towards Johns Hopkins and Tarr inlets, roughly 50 more miles of water up bay.

 

The surrounding landscape makes it tought to stay focused on birding. Horizon-stretching isn’t entirely an apt description, as from the deck of a boat the mountains seem to close in overhead, leaving a narrow patch of sky above. These are the sort of mountains you might pull from a Jack London novel or a passage from a James Michener or John McPhee book — rugged and heavily treed, laced in the morning by threads of cloud, and roamed by brown bears, wolves, wolverines and mountain goats. As a result, you want to scan the shorelines not just for birds, but for goats on the cliffs and brown bears fishing for salmon or tumbling rocks to get at the critters that lie beneath.

 

And no matter where you’re pointing your binoculars, once you hear the sharp report of ice calving from a glacier, you immediately look up to locate the new berg.

 

While terrestrial birders spend much of their time scanning trees, bushes, and even power lines for birds, in Glacier Bay you’re looking down onto the water’s surface to see what might be bobbing along at least as much as gazing overhead to see what might be wheeling over your boat.

 

South Marble Island arguably is the high point for day birders thanks to the rich variety of species to be spotted there. We spotted Common Murres and Pelagic Cormorants (Phalacrocorax pelagicus) clinging to the island’s rocky cliffs, tried to freeze-frame puffins zipping by through the air, watched murrelets dive for snacks, and looked up at the Kittiwakes and Mew gulls circling the ship to get a closer look at these odd beings floating on the bay and staring at the island.

 

The Marbled murrelets were particularly vexing, as they bobbed calmly on the water’s surface right up until the minute I aimed my camera at them. Then I was left with a swirl of water in my viewfinder as the birds had dived down and swam away with their strong wing-strokes.

 

But South Marble was far from the only place to go birding in Glacier Bay.

 

In August, bald eagles are readily visible, many with mottled fledglings in nests. During a short hike on Gloomy Knob we peered down into an abandoned nest that an eagle, perhaps confused, had built in the grass instead of in a tree. We could hear the sharp piping of a pair of eaglets in a more traditional nest, and a few moments later mom, or perhaps dad, came winging by on what we assumed was a lunch run.

 

Kayaking towards Margerie Glacier a little later during a week spent in the park we encountered Arctic Terns (Sterna paradisaea) and inqusitive Common Terns (Sterna hirundo), more Glaucous-winged gulls and Kittikwakes, and Pigeon Guillemots (Cepphus columba).

 

As the week went on we came upon what we could only figure to be a pair of Northern Harriers (Circus cyaneus) and some Black Oystercatchers (Haematopus bachmani) with their bright red, over-sized beaks seemingly guarding the mouth of Tidal Inlet.

 

Further on into the inlet we paddled towards hundreds of Black scoters (Melanitta nigra) — also called the “poor man’s puffin” by some for its somewhat colorful beak — in a raft stretching halfway across the inlet. The next day we counted Green-winged Teal (Anas crecca), somewhat small (compared to the Canada version) Brant goose (Branta bernicla), and a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) in Fingers Bay, while exploration of an arm of Dundas Bay the following morning produced more bald eagles.

 

As our trip was mostly on the water, we didn’t get to wander deep into the forests that rim the bay and climb the mountains cupping its waters. But among the terrestrial birds that flit among those forests are pine siskins, redpoles, magpies, winter wrens, and ubiquitous chickadees. A Steller’s jay raucously announced himself during a short foray we made into the muskeg forest off Dundas Bay.

 

A week is not enough time to come close to cataloging the park’s birds through your binoculars. There are several varieties of warblers, common Robins, versions of plovers, ptarmigan, grosbeaks, grebes, loons, and phalaropes and that’s just a short list of what we didn’t see.

 

But a week in Glacier Bay is plenty of time to check off dozens of species on your life list.

 

Recently there have been a number of deaths reported in the National Parks. Some are animal related and some are falls. How do these things happen? Well, in some cases the person ignored a “Do Not Pass This Barrier” safety sign or a warning to carry bear spray. But, sometimes things happen beyond your control and hopefully these tips will help improve your chances of enjoying your outdoor adventure while getting back home safely.

 

First and foremost, when you get to the park or wilderness area where you are going, check at any ranger station or visitor center for current safety issues that are pertinent for the areas you will be visiting. The rangers and staff are there to help in any way they can and are very willing to answer any questions you may have. It is also helpful to have checked the park out ahead of time for anything that could be a red flag for whatever activity you wish to pursue. In other words, plan ahead.

 

Secondly, never backpack or climb alone in the wilderness. Even in “civilized” parks, it is not advised. If something were to happen to one of you, the other one could go for help. Admittedly, this is not always the best option, but if there is no hope of someone seeing a signal or ever finding you accidentally, this is the next best procedure. Maybe if you were trained in wilderness survival, you might make it fine on your own, but remember the guy who got his hand caught in a boulder and ended up cutting it off just to survive and get out of the canyon? He was not a novice, but he had gone alone and not told a soul where he would be over the weekend. Solitude is all well and good, but not if you don’t survive your solo trek or climb.

 

This brings up my next point. Make sure you tell someone where you are going and when they can expect you back. This will go a long way towards getting someone to rescue you, if you need it, providing you tell a reliable person. The parks do not always have the personnel to follow-up on missing backpackers unless someone says something to them. As far as they are concerned, you could have just forgotten to check back in with them or gone home another way. There was another incident of a man in Alaska that went camping alone and never told anyone. He was two weeks over his wilderness permit expiration before they even started looking for him. No one ever reported him missing. To my knowledge, he was never found. His tent was, but not him.

 

Next, follow the safety rules for that park or wilderness. Some places, like up in Alaska, you are warned up front that you are on your own and you will need to rescue yourself, but even some places in the lower 48 tell you the same thing. If you are told that an area has a high avalanche risk at the time you are there, don’t head out for that area. And if you just HAVE to go that way because it has the best scenery, ice fishing, ice climbing, or trailheads, then you had better be familiar with strategies to either avoid or face an avalanche. (Use swimming strokes, grab a sturdy tree, best is take a course!) Or if an area is a high fire risk, DO NOT light campfires and be very careful with your camp stove. You get the idea.

 

Really, just use common sense and know your limitations. If this will be a first for you, then by all means, take along someone who knows what they are doing or has proficiency in the activity. I realize that sometimes we don’t know our own limitations which is another reason to take someone with you. Go easy your first time doing a new activity and you will lessen your risk factor. Obey any warning signs you come across. They are there for a reason!

 

Make sure you have a good first aid kit and be familiar with what is in it and how to use everything. If you will be in an area where you know there are a lot of venomous snakes, bring a venom extractor. I also like to bring some hydrogen peroxide in a small container as this works great for cleaning out wounds to help prevent infection. It is also great to gargle with half peroxide and half water if you wake up with a sore throat one morning. It almost always works to eliminate the sore throat. Know the signs and symptoms for hypothermia and altitude sickness and also how to avoid and treat them.

 

Avoid wild animals when you can. Elk are dangerous during the rut season in the autumn. They are extremely aggressive at this time. Bears are generally shy, but those that are acclimated to humans can be aggressive. You will not be able to outrun a bear, so it is better to avoid them and definitely keep your distance. Moose are also potentially dangerous if stirred up, so walk and talk softly around them and let them know you are not a threat. Unlike bears, it is OK to run away from moose, but you might want to put some thing solid, like a tree, between you and them. We have a good Wildlife Precautions page on our website that has more tips about animals.

 

Lastly, have adequate supplies for your trip. It is better to have your pack just a little too heavy and have adequate food, bandages, clothing for the weather, water purification stuff, rain gear, compass, GPS unit, topographical maps (and know how to read them), signal mirror or whistle,  repair kits, and a length of rope. If you do become lost or injured and you are by yourself and can’t make it back, know that bright signals or objects placed in sequence of three are widely recognized as distress signs.

 

By Corie Marks

 

Here's a video that is both heartwarming and a bit scary at the same time. It's a Sky News report on Kevin Richardson, an animal behaviorist who specializes in lions. Backpacker, whose blog I found this video on, harkens this to be much like the Timothy Treadwell story. You remember him right? He's the guy that was the subject of the movie Grizzly Man, who lived amongst the bears only to come to a tragic end. At least in the case of Richardson, he is trained to be with these big cats, although watching them manhandle him, it does make you wonder.

I can't help but chuckle at watching the video however, for two reason. One, it's clear that these cats have an affection for Richardson just by the way they interact with him, which is far different from Treadwell's experience. The other reason is that I have a big old house cat who exhibits the same traits as these lions. He just happens to way several hundred pounds less and fits in my lap.

Text by Laura Buckley We now have 40 Wild Chronicles episodes, hosted by National Geographic's own Boyd Matson, up on our site. In the videos, top explorers and field scientists traverse the globe, from Antarctica to Iceland, to report on the state of the natural world. One of our favorites is "Antarctic Orca Hunting"—not because we particularly enjoy watching these killer whales find their food source (read: kill), but because nature is just plain fascinating. The video begins with a brief overview of summertime in Antarctica, where the balmy minus-30-degree water is the food court for its inhabitants. But the main action happens around the 3:30 mark, when a group of seven orcas hunt together, a feat rarely captured on video. The whales circle around a lone seal stretched out on a small ice floe—begging the term "sitting duck" to be renamed—and employ amazing techniques to not only kill the...