Smuggler Mountain Restoration Work

ACES' For the Forest Program is excited about upcoming collaborations with local and federal government agencies to promote healthy,

Overgrown gamble oak on Smuggler Mountain

resilient forests.

Beginning today ACES, the City of Aspen, and Pitkin County Open Space are working together on three restoration projects in the wildland-urban interface on Smuggler Mountain. Each project seeks to improve wildlife habitat, and reduce fuel loads in different vegetation types: Gambel oak, lodgepole pine, and aspen. These projects will be visible from popular hiking and biking routes on Smuggler.

In the absence of periodic, natural disturbances such as fire, vegetation in this area has become old and overgrown, leading to increased fuel accumulation and lower quality forage for wildlife. The restoration projects taking place next week seek to mimic natural disturbance events by mechanically opening up the understory and stimulating new growth.

If you're hiking or biking on Smuggler in the next few weeks, keep an eye out for ACES' interpretive signage detailing the ecological benefits of each of these projects. The signs will be located at the site of each project, so you will be able to track progress.

Further questions about ACES' collaboration with the City of Aspen and Pitkin County on these restoration projects can be directed to Jamie Cundiff, ACES' Forest Health Programs Director, at jcundiff@aspennature.org.

A Sapsucker's Busy Work

When scanning a cluster of river-side serviceberry bushes through my binoculars on a recent birding excursion, a light honeycomb-shaped mosaic caught my eye. After closer inspection (and a hint from ACES' Naturalist Rebecca Weiss) we decided the grid was the result of a busy red-naped sapsucker. The serviceberry trunks in front of us were home to multiple generations of sap-wells; some barely visible scars of wells from seasons past, and others brand-new, still oozing sap and darkening the bark around them.  Rebecca began to explain the fascinating details about these sap-wells. To begin with, they are feeding hot-spots; not only for the red-naped sapsucker, but also for an array of other species that come to rely on the bird's work. There were two kinds of wells littering the surface of this particular serviceberry stand; some were the diameter of a quarter and are holes that the sap-sucker must continually maintain to keep sap flowing. The others holes and bark scars showed punctures, akin to a Parcheesi board and no wider than a pen, where the sap suckers uses its bill to probe the tree looking for sap.

The gallery of holes, regardless of size, were all carved in the soft bark of the tree by a bird no bigger than my hand. The red-naped sapsucker, Sphyrapicus nuchalis, is a medium sized-woodpecker. These industrious creatures are denizens of lower elevations of the Rocky Mountains.  Both male and female boast red feathered throats; perhaps their most identifiable characteristic. However the red-nape that their name suggests refers to a tiny patch of red at the back of the head/neck. The red-naped sapsucker seek out nooks in soft-barked trees like willow, aspen, poplar and fruit trees where decay has softened generous spaces. Sap suckers develop real estate in their chosen trees over the years: beginning by building out hollows close to the ground and subsequently building spaces higher and higher in the tree. Like all sapsuckers, they eat insects, fruit and sap which flows within trees' cambium layer, the living tissue just beneath the outer protective bark. Insects and other sap-feeding bird life come to rely on sapsucker feeding holes. One might call this crucial behavior characteristic of a keystone species, which by definition, is an organism in the ecosystem that many other species depend upon for continued survival and support. However the opportunistic sapsuckers will also eat the insects attracted to their wells, doing so by the dramatic fly-catching technique made possible by their small tongues. The sap sucker will use its beak and tongue to poke, pry and tap bark for insects, and it's tongue to fly-catch and sip or lick sap.

Next time you hear a slow, irregular tapping in the lowland forests of the Rocky Mountains, keep your eyes peeled for these beautiful creatures and the feeding hot-spots they create.

Sources:
    •    Rebecca Weiss
    •    http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definitions/Keystone+species
    •    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red-naped_Sapsucker
    •    http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-naped_Sapsucker/id 

View looking North from the peak of Mt. Elbert, taken June 23, 2012

Mt. Elbert Thoughts

The rocky alpine zone witnessed on the approach to Mt. Elbert is speckled with

blue and purple Phlox flowers. They offer a stark contrast to the Earth tone rocks

which cover the landscape. The individual rocks if viewed closer are much like the

larger landscape of which they are a part of. They too are accented with colorful

minerals and crystals that sparkle in the sunlight which give the rocks a more vibrant

character. Standing atop the Rocky's tallest peak is like standing on the bow of a

great ship, looking out over a stormy sea frozen in time.

Taking deep breaths of cool crisp mountain top air quenches the primal thirst for high country exploration.

Outlook over Tivoli Bay, Hudson River, and Catskill Mtns

Choose Your Own Adventure

What's more important in life than surrounding yourself by beautiful people? The answer is nothing, however a close second goes to beautiful places. The conclusion of this summer was a difficult period for me. Leaving not only an amazing group of individuals at ACES but the natural beauty in which Aspen is nested, to move East to New York was challenging and forced me to reconcile my inner conflicts caused by this life decision. 

As someone who has felt a deep connection with high and wild places since the first time my boots gripped the side of a mountain, I was unsure if my new home could satiate my hunger for exploration. I soon discovered that it in fact could and to a degree I never thought imaginable. 

The forests are vast and dense, the rivers are plentiful and come in all varieties, and the landscape teems with life. The land may not rise and fall quite as dramatically as it did in Aspen, but the moderate terrain hides many secrets. It was only a couple months ago that Blue Columbine captivated me as I strolled along Colorado trails. Now it is the 400 year old White Oak trees, climbing vines, and Red Efts which draw my attention. Beauty through pure diversity.

That is one of the most magnificent qualities of this country. The ability to travel from one incredible place to the next without even having to go through a customs officer making you feel guilty for something you have never done. No matter where you go in life and what preconceived notions you carry along the way, always seek adventure. Look for the amazing things happening around you, big and small. Be inspired and take a moment to appreciate the uniqueness of a place.

I often wish I was still in the West, but I have found another horizon here in the East and it is a horizon largely unexplored by my mind, body, and spirit until now. The Aspen idea applies no matter where you find yourself. The adventure always awaits.

Unnamed ridge in the Maroon Snowmass Wilderness

Don't Leaf Aspen Without Peeping Those Colors!

Leaf Peeper: (n.) One who travels to view and photograph changing leaf colors in the fall.

Examples: off-season fall tourists populating the Maroon Bells; that relative that refuses to come visit you in Aspen unless it is the third week in September.

The Catto Center at Toklat, a site of ACES, is located up Castle Creek, a prime leaf-peeping location.
Join us there for our annual membership potluck and fall colors celebration on Thursday September 20th at 5pm. RSVP here.

Ever since Labor Day passed, the influx of summer-season tourists has slowed—we have officially entered the off-season.  Streets are calm, darkness comes a little earlier in the evening, and the grocery stores are navigable after five o’clock.  However, the Roaring Fork Valley's fall foliage produces an ephemeral golden light-show that brings one last burst of visitors before the winter. 

When asked about timing a visit to Aspen to see the changing leaves, locals consistently point to the third week in September as the height of the color.  It’s this time when the mountainsides are blanketed with the vibrant yellow of Aspen leaves, intermittently mixed with the dark green of the conifers.  But exactly why do the Aspen leaves (and other leaves, too!) change color in the fall?

Most people are familiar with the fact that leaves contain chlorophyll—that’s the component that gives them their green pigment and allows for the process of photosynthesis.  Chloroplasts are the little green engines of plant cells which capture sunlight to synthesize carbohydrates and sustain plant life. These chloroplasts contain the green chlorophyll which breaks down easily, and yellow carotenoids which are more durable. As nights lengthen and plant metabolism slows, the chlorophyll breaks down and allows the yellow carotenoids to shine through. With slower metabolism, leaf veins begin to clog and red anthocyanin sugars concentrate in the leaves, shining through like the carotenoids. Leaves high in carotenoids are yellow, those with a blend of carotenoids and anthocyanins are orange, and those high in anthocyanins are red. 

So, grab your cameras… now is the time!  Luckily for all the leaf peepers out there, I recently learned that the United States Forest Service maintains a Fall Colors Hotline, complete with updates on peaking colors in different National Forests around the country and suggestions for color-seeking activities.  Feel free to embrace your inner leaf-peep and give it a call at 800-354-4595. Or give ACES a call for suggestions on local foliage hot-spots in the Roaring Fork Valley!

Meet ACES 2012-2013 Educators

Clockwise, beginning bottom right: Myles Somerville, Sarah Onstad, Melanie Poole, Sarah Schmidt, Andrew Hays, Betsy DeFries, Kendall Reiley, Erin Cushner, Chris Cohen.
Not pictured: Erin Griffin, Betsy McMichael.

For over 35 years ACES has partnered with schools in the Roaring Fork Valley to bring environmental science education to pre-school through high school students. ACES provides 350 field programs and 2,067 classroom lessons throughout the school year. 

This week you will see ACES Educators teaching geology to 5th-graders at the Maroon Bells, teaching tree identification to 6th graders at Hallam Lake, teaching kindergarten through 4th grade Environmental Science Education classes at Aspen, Basalt, or Crystal River Elementary Schools, and teaching preschoolers about the farmyard at Rock Bottom Ranch!

ACES is fortunate to have amazing educators to lead our programs. Learn more about our current staff here. Interested in applying next year? See our job description here. For parents in the Roaring Fork Valley, come visit us at Back to School Night on Wednesday at Aspen Elementary School and on Thursday at Basalt Elementary School.

Getting to Work

I registered for Pandora (internet radio) in the Bay Area, where I grew up.  Every so often, they’ll play a commercial for California’s ‘Spare the Air’ program, which encourages residents to leave their car at home and take alternative transportation when the local Air Quality Index reaches unhealthy levels.  This index was developed by the EPA and establishes a minimum threshold for when ground level ozone pollution, commonly known as smog, reaches unhealthy levels.  Their commercials pose a series of alternative commuting scenarios (carpooling, public transportation), asking ‘What is the favorite part of YOUR commute?‘

Those commercials and that world seem like a whole other lifetime ago.  These days, the favorite part of my commute is waking with the sun and taking an 11-mile ride to work that many consider one of the best in Colorado.  On the weekdays, it’s complete solitude as the blood sings in your ears and your muscles work in concert to bring you, your bike and your belongings from 8,000 feet to just over 9,500.  On the weekends, the camaraderie of shared experience makes for a euphoric bonhomie among riders.  I’ve come to enjoy each in their turn.  As our time here in Aspen comes to an end, I’m coming to realize that the days of meeting horses or passing waterfalls on my morning commute are also coming to a close.  Whatever my next commute has in store for me, whether car, bike or public transportation, I know that I’ll find the silver lining eventually.  It just may take a little longer than it did here in Aspen.

Rounding the bend on Maroon Creek Road

Owl Creek Trail and a curious onlooker

Rio Grande Trail, on the way back to ACES from Snowmass Village

  

Who's That Dipping Under My Bridge?

"He is the mountain streams' own darling, the hummingbird of blooming waters, loving rocky ripple-slopes and sheets of foam as a bee loves flowers, as a lark loves sunshine and meadows.  Among all the mountain birds, none has cheered me so much in my lonely wanderings, none so unfailingly." - John Muir, The Mountains of California

Who's under the bridge?  No, it's not a hungry troll... it's an American dipper, one of our most unique and specialized local birds.  Specifically adapted to live in and around mountain streams, dippers spend their days swimming and foraging in the clear, cascading waterways that give life to the Colorado high country.  Here's a short list of adaptations that make dippers special, as chronicled by Janis Huggins in her field guide Wild at Heart:

• dense plumage for feeding underwater without excess heat loss
• stout, strong bill for foraging between rocks
• waterproof feathers
• short wings for easier maneuvering, used like flippers
• large strong clawed feet for walking in strong currents
• nostril flaps to keep water out
• elevated hemoglobin for more efficient oxygen consumption in water
• vision that compensates for the refractive index of water
• dark plumage for camouflage.

Watching dippers has been a favorite pastime of naturalists from John Muir to Matt Reed, a fellow ACES summer naturalist, who tracked down an active nest in the Maroon Bells - Snowmass Wilderness Area.  The mossy nest and its inhabitants seem much more in tune with the spray of West Maroon Creek than with the clomp of hiking boots on the bridge above them.

Last week I snuck under the bridge to see what was dipping!  How many of the dipper's special adaptations do you see in the video?

Aspen's Perfect Storm

I've never been so happy to see a storm roll in.  This felt counterintuitive to me after spending a long winter on the grey, misty Oregon Coast.  All winter, I'd wake up to another day of rainy mist swirling in off the coast, and groan about how I had to be deficient in Vitamin D by now.

When I arrived in Aspen, I welcomed the days of Colorado sunshine with layers of sunscreen and a big smile.  As the weeks rolled by and I paid close attention to the flowers and plants along the tours I led, I began to notice the effect of this year's unseasonable dryness.  The fields of aspen sunflowers on Richmond Ridge wilted, then began to look crispy.  The graceful blue columbine that I loved to show visitors on the Snowmass Nature Trail were done blooming by the end of June.  The beaver dam along the same trail seemed irrelevant when the stream was bone dry.

A few weeks ago, however, things began to change.  I clearly recall the first afternoon storm.  The deep smell of rain rose from the earth, so strong I could almost taste it.  Rain drummed on the ground for at least ten minutes, leaving a feel of renewed energy that was impossible to ignore.  Everyone who worried about imminent fire danger breathed a giant sigh of relief.

Now, even through we're still in the throes of an unprecedented drought, the more consistent afternoon rains have noticeably perked up the landscape.  The flowers hold themselves with a bit more strength and brightness, and the dust has settled to a manageable level.  The stream at Snowmass is flowing again, giving the beavers more of a reason to work on their elaborate dam, creating the riparian habitat that most wildlife in Colorado couldn't live without.

Last week, I stood on Aspen Mountain and watched a dark wall of rain slowly envelop Mount Sopris, Pyramid Peak, and the Highlands Bowl.  I answered question after question from visitors: "How long will the gondola be closed?"  "Is the next tour still happening?"  "How long will it rain for?"  The honest answer to all these questions is, always, "I don't know."  It's exciting not knowing.  The best we can do it to watch in awe as the storm rolls closer, greeting us first with fierce gusts of wind and sporadic chunks of hail.  I couldn't be happier than be to "stuck" on top of Aspen Mountain, watching the needed rain invigorate and awaken the landscape.

Unprecedented RF Peak Flows

Bell Mountain tells the story. Old timers know that as the last patch of snow melts off of Bell, the Roaring Fork at Aspen hits high water for the season. 

It may be too early to call but we could be in uncharted waters as far as Roaring Fork River peak flows go. Bad pun.

Possible Peak of Roaring Fork at Aspen, 128 cfs 4/27/12.
Previous lowest peak 202 cfs in 2002. (47 years of record keeping)
Last year peak was 816 cfs.
Historical Peak Stream flow complete record here: Roaring Fork at Aspen
  
Possible Peak of Roaring Fork at Glenwood Springs 1230 cfs 4/27/12.
Previous lowest peak 2480 cfs in 2002. (106 years of record keeping)
Last year peak was 9220 cfs. 
Historical Peak Stream flow complete record here: Roaring Fork at Glenwood