Yeah, so there's this beaver that lives across the street...or in this case, across the river:
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| Beaver town - right across the river |
One of the other consequences of the dam's regulation of the river (the first being the presence of the tamarisk) is an over-abundance of beavers. The pattern of massive floods that would have periodically destroyed their dams and dens having been eliminated by the engineering marvel that is Hoover Dam, these pesky rodents are free to proliferate.
Too bad they don't like to chew tamarisk. That might have been a problem that solved itself. Instead, they just love the tasty, irresistible flavor of those lovely natives: Gooding willows, coyote willows and cottonwoods.
So, here we are, busy as beavers removing the inedible tamarisk plants and replacing them with a virtual river-rodent smorgasbord of fresh cut poles - all right at perfect beaver-munching height. The first poles weren't in the ground 24 hours before our neighbor came over for a midnight snack.
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| Beaver-chewed plantings |
Unfortunately, I didn't capture the bugger on camera - though other members of our crew were luckier. It wasn't hard to catch him in the act, as his chosen chew sticks happened to be located near our groover (a clever river folk word for crapper). If I had been lucky enough to take a photo of him, it would likely have looked like this:
Well, actually, he wouldn't have looked that cute...I have to be honest that up close and personal, beavers really aren't cute at all. They're kinda creepy looking, and big. Like, big dog big. Definitely not something I want to be responsible for keeping out of my newly planted garden of twigs. Which is why it is wonderful that we had this person on our team:
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| No beaver's gonna get her plantings! |
Melissa was the project manager for NPS, and she instantly went into superhero mode when she discovered the beaver's unexpectedly keen hunger for the new plants. Although the team had planned to create "cages" around several of the larger trees, we shifted into high speed and turned that smaller project into a shield for each of the planted poles on the beach. Not only was it good for the plants, but it was good for us - we needed something new to do (tammie whacking was getting a bit old).
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| Andy Goldsworthy eat your heart out |
Our first attempt was an idea put out by Mark, who brilliantly combined our need to dispose of large amounts of cut wood and our desire to protect the plants. He created only one of these art-installation-worthy natural anti-beaver structures, but within only hours of its erection, a group of boaters tried to tie their boats off to it. Clearly, it felt substantial and solid enough to keep a beaver out!
Too bad each one would have taken hours to construct and we needed hundreds of them...
In the end, we spent our final day on the beach constructing and installing cages and shields like these:
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| Small protection cages with arrow weed stakes |
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| Large cage with mulch |
Take that Mr. Beaver! While I'm sure the protection will be temporary, our hopes are that it will give the fresh plantings a chance to survive and establish roots before the voracious critter gets to all of them...
In the mean time, the sun had returned to the canyon, and the ice and snow disappeared in an instant. It was hardly warm yet, but the positive influence of the sun helped to chase away the worst of the chill. It was on a sunny day like this that the boaters had to pack up and head down the river.
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| Boaters preparing for launch |
Before they left, I insisted on the time to capture a group shot. I was worried that I was pushing my 'welcome' by making everyone stop and pose, but now I'm glad I did it. What a fantastic group of people - to give up weeks of life in the 'real world' to do just a small bit of improving for such a magical place!
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| Granite Beach Stewardship Crew |
When the boats were gone, Melissa put us back to work finishing up the plantings and sorting out the tools. We kept on task all afternoon, which was a great way to keep us distracted from thinking about the fact that we were leaving the next day. So sad to be going, but so ready for the hot shower, soft bed and puppy ears that waited at home!
Our kitchen that night was a little more reminiscent of the backcountry style I'm accustomed to...
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| Dinner for 7, coming up! |
The next morning, it was up and out. I'd never hiked up the Hermit Trail before, and I was excited to see it from a different point of view. This excitement lasted until about the top of the Cathedral stairs when it was replaced by impatient irritation. The irritation was gone about an hour and a half later when weariness began to set in - and still thousands of feet to climb. What a bear!
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| See the hiker ahead on the Tonto??? Scale is everything in the canyon. |
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| Melissa and Gayle ahead of me on the Coconino Sandstone paving. |
As I'd expected, I was the last out of the canyon by a good bit. I can't say that I'm not proud of myself, however. I don't think anyone who walks themselves out of that hole in the ground should be unimpressed by their own fortitude. It's a small and distinguished group of folks.
As I climbed into the car for the ride back to Flagstaff, I tried to nap but found myself still jittery and excited. After all, they told me I might be able to come back and help again in April...
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| Tammie whackin' good time! |
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