A Damn Near Perfect Day

It didn't start out as one, of course. Far from it. About 12:30 - that's AM, after I'd gotten about 2 hours of sleep - I heard Steve fall. There are two closed doors between the garage bedroom and the living room, but yes, I heard him fall. I didn't know what exactly it was. Perhaps bumping into a piece of furniture? I tried to get back to sleep. I almost made it, too, but then I heard him call out for Paul. Loath as he is to disturb Paul's sleep, I knew it was more than a bump into furniture. So much for sleep.

Entering the living room, I found Steve on the floor with Paul standing over him. They were trying to figure out the logistics of getting him up again. Within a couple minutes, he was assisted up onto the couch, from which he could help himself to wherever. Turns out he had bumped into furniture... on his way down, after getting dizzy. The furniture was fine. Steve got two band-aids. Plus a few bruises. I got an interrupted sleep which persisted until nearly 5:00 AM. Two more hours then, and I was done for the night. It's starting to catch up to me now, twelve hours later. Meanwhile coffee got me through the day. Just one cup, one more than the doctor approves of. I won't tell him though. Don't you.

Breakfast consisted of a few leftover banana-coconut pancakes, no toppings, made the night before. (Lunch too for that matter.) Steve got the rest of them. This was one experimental recipe he approved of. Paul, not so much.

 A little TV filled in a gap of time, but only stuff pre-recorded on the DVR. A fast moving storm messed with live reception for a bit. That will make a difference later.

Ten o'clock I had an appointment at my favorite bead store in Taylors Falls. I'd offered to teach one of the staff how to make a bracelet by celtic braiding. She provided all the materials, on hand because she teaches customers workshops there on a variety of things, and we both had fun. I also repeated my invitation from last year for her to stop by when a number of the store staff head to Arizona to stock up on - literally - new stock. A whole bunch of shows by wholesalers for beads and what-all happen annually. I made sure she knew I was completely sincere in my offer to show her around the club when she took the time to put that in her schedule. I think she's actually considering it.

Home for a spot of lunch was next. I had planned to take a nap before the next part of my day, but I just wasn't feeling it. So, off to Crex Meadows. It's just not a summer visit up here without spending a long afternoon or more driving around Crex and using my camera as often as possible.

Things you need to know about Crex: it's 30,000 acres of Wisconsin wilderness. Managed wilderness. They repair roads, do controlled burns to maintain habitat so trees don't take over, clean up deadfalls after storms. It's home to migratory birds in those seasons, and an abundance of varieties of plants and wildlife stay. It's the fall staging ground for about 20,000 sandhill cranes, much like the Platte in Nebraska is a spring staging ground. It's prime financial support comes from Ducks Unlimited, and they get to hunt waterfowl in season. Except, of course, a reserve in the middle where nobody can set foot, except staff. If any of that appeals, it's on the northern edge of Grantsburg,WI., which is just on the eastern side of the St. Croix River, the boundary with Minnesota, along US 70. Turn north at the light and follow the Follow the Goose signs. Seriously.

The visit always starts with the info center. In itself it's worth a visit, but after several years, I'm after current information. Where are such-and-such located in recent sightings? What's new? Many of the megafauna, aka those my camera will actually get pictures of, inhabit the same places year after year. This year they have one recent addition, which may or may not still be hanging around: a whooping crane. One visitor with a spotting scope was able to read its leg band number. Interesting as that news was, I already had fond memories and mediocre pictures / video of the three who arrived one fall and stuck around until all the cranes, meaning sandhills, headed south, several years ago. I filed away this one's recent locations, but it wasn't hanging around when I was in the area. I got info on roads, which flowages were full this year and which were being kept drier via their system of dikes, then headed out.

There is a path out the back side of the center, leading down across a waterway, which is as far as I ever go on it. Today was a wind day, making a lot of pictures not gonna happen. Hard to shoot a bee on a stalk whipping back and forth. To make up for it, the ripples across the water, looked down on from the bridge, made some interesting photos. Even better video.

From there, back in the car, I drove my usual route with just a few additions per the recommendations gotten at the info center. The birds which always fly off long before I'm near still did today. Even in the off season, they seem to know they are targets and don't take any chances. Or maybe they're just practicing for when it gets real. Hunting season starts soon.

So, photographically, no geese, no ducks. But I always go with a mental list, and check them off as I find them. Phantom Lake, kept dry last year, had grasses and weeds grown so tall that open water was hard to find, nevermind sighting eagles, osprey, or loons. I consoled myself with the quick view of an eagle as I was driving, gone before I could even think to stop.

There are a couple of dead logs in that lake close to the road which turtles come out and sun on, but even those logs were hiding in the vegetation. There was, however, one small turtle - painted or mud, not sure if there is a difference or what it might be - crossing the road. As I stepped close for a picture, it hid in its shell, but I picked it up and held it with one hand which got thoroughly clawed while my other held the camera for a shot of the under-shell. Gorgeous! Check that off the list.

Primary on my list every visit are the sandhills. The first major turn on that road startled three into flight. Drat! No photo here, but the afternoon is young. With three cranes, one can easily assume this late in the season that one of the flyers is a colt and the other its parents. (Colt? Who knew? I always called them chicks. Now I can name them properly and get people to look at me like I'm insane. What fun!)

There were several more chances to shoot sandhills, some photos, some video. While they haven't started their fall staging, there were twos and threes spread widely around. I even got a still shot as a pair took flight, waiting until they'd risen above the treeline.

The other big and plentiful bird species there is trumpeter swans. They do sound like an old fashioned toy tin horn, though in the video playbacks the wind on the mic was the predominant sound. I found them in several locations, mostly way across whichever piece of water from the road. There was one definite family with two cygnets, defined not by size this late but by grey feathers instead of white. As with all the pictures of the day, there was a struggle to shoot past the tall waving grasses along the roadside, not just from obstructing the view, but also teasing the camera to focus on them instead of the desired subject. Often the swans or cranes had gotten far away by the time the issues were dealt with and the shutter clicked. Halleluia for instant viewing of the shot. But DANG! those Pentax people who never turned the K-1000 into a digital camera where I could twist the rings in front of me to make adjustments rather than having to stop and go through the  menu.... and opportunity has flown away. Those who read this faithfully will have heard that sentiment before. But Pentax... ARE YOU LISTENING YET?

Pretty soon most of the wish list was filled. I still had not seen an egret or blue heron since arriving. That discussion in the info center verified their apparent scarcity this year, with another voice to the thought that the late harsh winter likely killed several early-arriving species. Hopefully not all of any variety. 

Late into this trip I received reassurance on that hope. Going over the video of about 20 trumpeters scattered along the far shore of one pond I'd stopped at, one of them moved and the silhouette changed. That was no swan, that was an egret! Yee-haaa!

By then my list was down to two missing sightings, a heron and a deer. Heading around the likely spot to spy a whooper, nothing whatsoever appeared. Well, one grasshopper, but.... Many sandhills and trumpeters had already been spotted, so I wasn't totally bereft. I tried one more road, outside the usual course I take. One heron landed, way too far away to do more than identify it. No shot would yield even a dot that would stand out from the background. OK, keep going.

There was a bonus sighting, something I'd seen lots of through the years but not yet at Crex: wild turkeys. Five crossed the road on a rise well up ahead, far enough away that they had time to hide in the brush on the other side. Patience rewardied me with a few shots of the pokiest of that flock however.

The likely deer spot was a few miles ahead. A sudden curve on the way brought my close heron sighting. By close, well, all things are relative. I took a couple shots, then proceeded to sneak up on it. Not subtly enough, however. There must be a well-developed sense of "prey" in herons too. It took off while I was still trying to get my camera to focus on something besides the waving foreground grass, but I was focused so close I wasn't able to follow its flight for a shot.

Oh well. If you look real hard at what I did get, I've got proof of life.

Turning onto the road where I always see one deer at least, I did. Immediately. Long before the camera was out. And speaking of that awareness of being a prey animal? Resigned to no shot, and at the end of my afternoon, I headed across to my starting point on that gravel road. The adventure began.

Remember where I said that the early morning rain would be important? Well, this road is the least improved in the preserve. Some years lately it has even been barricaded. At best, it's two ruts with potholes and grass or rocks rising up in the center. I had inquired about its status earlier, and was informed that it was navigable. (One person's opinion.) Just this week the crew had been out filling the (worst?) of the ruts with dirt. Not gravel, just dirt. No grading, but it was kinda flatter than the road had been. But still, just dirt. And now, pretty wet dirt. And when you drive over pretty wet dirt, it squishes out of the ruts it was filling, raising walls higher than the previous high points had been. Moreover, what hadn't been squished out by the two (apparently) previous drivers, lay like mud traps for the unwary.

I made the mistake of slowing down before hitting the first of these. My wheels threatened to start spinning. Luckily, I haven't been in Arizona so long that I've forgotten how to drive in deep snow. YOU DO NOT STOP! NEVER EVER EVER. Once through that one, I increased my speed to a steady 10-15 mph. The wheels didn't spin. Of course, I was traveling west on a narrow one lane road, still as full of holes and bumps as before, praying that nobody would ever be so stupid as to do what I was doing but coming the other way as there was no place to pull over, not to mention getting stuck while trying to figure out which of us went where. The lowering sun was in my eyes, and visibility complicated both by a dirty inside windshield and the sun-dark-sun provided by uneven vegetation. As a result, I didn't manage, while maintaining speed, to also dodge all those semi-visible ruts and high center spots. Grinnnnnnd! Klunk-klunk. And did I just hear something metal hit the road? I mean, as in separate(d) from my car? Don't even think it! Must have been something already lying hidden on the road. Right? Please?

The road finally evened out and I was fully prepared to head home. That's when I spotted a  young snapper sunning itself along the road. It wasn't any bigger than the earlier turtle had been, and the three rows of ridges were still smooth bumps. I took two shots out the window, then pulled away. As soon as I passed it, I saw the sun gleaming off its eye, where the face had been in shade for the previous pics. So, one last shot for the road. I thanked it for posing, like that mattered to the turtle. If it had any coherent thoughts, likely it was just relieved to sit unmolested. Or ready to bite its attacker and never let go.

Then on for my favorite tuna Subway for supper, and home. Steve was waiting, doing well, just a tad sore. So yep, pretty darn near a perfect day. Yawn....