A Tale or Two

Just a few tales.  I will do my best to write another tonight, but finding access is always difficult.

I went to the Dugway Utah base, passed the security checkup, filled up with cheap gas and went to the lovely base library, only to find that most of the base's children were on vacation.  I wound up with three children, one a two year old with a zero attention span and another, a little girl, who really wanted to take a nap.  That left one boy who wanted to be a writer, so he got my full attention. I've had audiences of over a hundred.  An audience of one is much more difficult, but I managed. 

Next it was on to Ogden, and Anderson Cove, but I had no idea how to get there, except that zen driving usually get me where I want to go.  I wandered north of Salt Lake City,turned off on what looked like a promising highway,  went a few miles and pulled into a Sinclair station. 

"How do I get to Anderson Cove?" I asked.  None of the clerks knew  but the guy waiting in line behind me said, "I live there.  Just follow me."  I did and found the cove, but the campground was totally full.  I am finding that to be true whenever there is water involved. 

The rangers pointed me to Magpie Campground.  I found site no. 1 and there I was for the night. I explored the Huntsville area for a while, found a great ice cream place and the awesome library. I am told there's lots of money in Huntsville and the library reflects it.  It has an art gallery, a movie theatre, a coffee shop, and about 16 computer carrels with the fastest wireless connection I've had so far.  

When one crosses the Missississippi, water rules (riparian rights) change and that was obvious here.  I spotted a beach sign and drove right in only to find out that I would have to pay $10 for the fifteen minute dip I intended to take. 

Every camp site, every trail, every point of interest had a "host" whose main job was to collect money.  No forest rangers here, the forests are maintained by a private company out to make a lot of money.  Never mind.

I slept a solid ten hours in nice cold temperatures. In the morning, another adventure.

This past winter, Tim Meier urged me to read Refuge by Terry Tempest Williams who wrote about the period in the late 1980's when the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge was flooded by the waters of the Great Salt Lake.  The refuge had been around since 1928 and no one thought it would ever come back.  Nature surprised everyone and once again, it is one of the great sanctuaries.

I arrived to find that a tour would take place in half an hour and there was room for me.  While I waited, I bought my own copy of Refuge and Sibley's Birds of Western America.  I had left my copy in Colorado with Betty. 

For three hours a long time birder, three novices and I road in an air conditioned van with an expert.  He knew where we could find all the species.  We saw baby coots (orange while their parents are black), the avocets I came to see, a Swainson's Hawk I had been observing in Utah and could finally identify and so much more.

In the end, I marked  26 species on my checklist, good for a hot Utah day.  Of those, fifteen were new to me.

It was a good day.  Then the thunderstorms hit and my next adventure.