A first-hand view of a complex, controverisal, conservation issue- the invasive tamarisk by Jess Cossentino and Mary Ann McGarry

Posted on May 27, 2009 by Mary Ann

During our three days on the San Juan River, it was almost impossible not to notice the abundant tamarisk growing alongside the river. Our guide Bret informed us of the negative impact this invasive species is having on the riparian or river corridor ecosystem. Tamarisk, or salt cedar, is a deciduous shrub or tree that was introduced to the western United States in the early 19^th century as an ornamental and later for windbreak and erosion control purposes (1). By the mid 1900’s the plant had become a well known problem in western regions of the U.S.

Tamarisk has a natural tendency to grow into very dense thickets, at times as many as 3000 plants per acre, which prevent the expansion of native vegetation (1). Native to Central Asia and the Mediterranean, this plant species has an “extensive root system well suited to the hot, arid climates and alkaline soils common in the western United States” (1). This specific species of plant mines into the watershed, monopolizing the water supply, and enabling tamarisk to thrive while native vegetation perishes. Due to the depth of its far-reaching root system, tamarisks draw more salts from the groundwater than native vegetation which is then excreted through the leaves and deposited into the soil once they fall off the plant. This process causes an increase in soil salinity which in turn prevents the germination of many native plants, allowing tamarisk to take over. “Because tamarisk stands develop into dense thickets, sediment accumulates in their extensive root systems and promotes further tamarisk growth, “ (1, p.1). From the rafts, we observed that tamarisk dominated the shoreline with no other flora competing for even the smallest space.

In addition to out-competing other native plant species, the spread of tamarisk causes other problems as well. The dense habitat of the plant limits recreational access to the river. The dense growth also causes a fire hazard and allows fires to spread where once they weren’t such an influence on the ecosystem. Another impact is due to their accumulation of soil, tamarisks cause river and stream channels to gradual narrow and flooding increases (1, p.1). Yet still another negative consequence is, “conversion to tamarisk typically coincides with reduction or complete loss of bird species strongly associated with cottonwood-willow habitats http://bulk.resource.org/gpo.gov/register/1995/1995_10708.pdf. If ecological reasons aren’t bad enough, “cottonwoods and willows are culturally valuable to tribes such as the Hopi and the Navajo. Roots, branches, and logs are used in baskets, kachinas, and structures” (http://www.gcrg.org/bqr/13-3/aliens.html).

As I stared at the river bank, I wondered what the area looked like 50 and 100 years ago, before the takeover of tamarisk? Bret pointed out the huge flood plain in the upper part of the river that once existed before dams upstream started controlling the water flow. Bret showed us old river channels that were still lined by the native cottonwoods. Camping under cottonwood trees in particular is ideal as the trees cast a cool shadow from the hot, high desert sun.

For all of the above reasons, the prevailing thinking has been to eradicate tamarisks and restore once native vegetation. Mechanical, chemical, and biological eradication efforts have all been experimented with to prevent further spreading of tamarisks. There have been attempts to reverse the damage that has already occurred and return river corridors in the West to their original state. Mechanical removal efforts are methods by which the shrub or tree is cut or mowed, however this is rarely effective as re-growth is high. Burning is not a viable option either as tamarisk can recover far quicker from fire damage than native vegetation can because it sprouts vigorously from the root crown. (2) The abundance of leaf litter from tamarisk raises the threat of wildfires which actually stimulates its growth, but destroys native vegetation such as cottonwoods and willows.

Chemical methods involve cutting the stump of a tamarisk two inches above the soil surface and treating it with an herbicide immediately. When the bark is dry, another herbicide can be applied near the base of the plant. In the fall months, herbicides may be sprayed on the foliage, however re-growth is common following these methods and re-treatment must be applied in order to kill the shrub (2).

Biological eradication methods involve the use living organisms in order to suppress the growth of the tamarisk species. Diorhabda elongata, or the “tamarisk leaf beetle,” has been tested since 1992 and approval of field testing was granted in 1999. In 2001, beetles were released into the wild. This biological control is still relatively “new” and the overall effect it will have on the suppression of tamarisk growth is still being observed and studied. Beetles control tamarisk by feeding on the plants in massive hoards, completely defoliating the plant which prevents photosynthesize and storage of food in root systems. Repetition of this process over the course of years causes the roots to diminish in size to such a degree that they can no longer support the plant. Introduction of a foreign organism, like beetles, into an ecosystem has raised concerns. Years of testing, prior to being released into the wild, has shown that the beetles prefer the species of tamarisk over other native flora (2).

Not all scientists saccept that tamarisks need to be removed everywhere in the West. Biologists studying the endangered willow flycatchers discovered a significant amount of the remaining 400 pairs of birds now nest in tamarisks- indicating how long the plants have been around (3) “The attraction is proximity to water, shade and a branching structure that apparently reminds the birds of the native willow trees they historically nested in.” So, if enough beetles were released to eat, “… all of the tamarisk, the reasoning went, an important chunk of nesting habitat would disappear, pushing the bird closer to extinction.” This argument is found in a fascinating article entitled, “Tackling tamarisk” a feature story- from the May 25, 1998 issue of High Country News by Paul Larmer. Larmer interviewed an ecologist, Bob Ohmard, of Arizona State University, who did “pioneering studies in the 1970s showing that tamarisk supports less animal life - from insects to birds and mammals - than native vegetation. …Ohmart argues that tamarisk has merely taken advantage of our sick, static river systems, and that removal of it will leave next to no habitat for the willow flycatcher and other riparian-dependent species. Dams and water diversions have permanently altered river corridors in the West, he says, rendering many inhospitable to native cottonwoods and willows. ‘If you wipe out saltcedar, what will replace it? Not much,’ says Ohmart. ‘I'd rather see a monoculture of saltcedar than bare dirt. At least it holds in soil and provides a little habitat. We're damn lucky tamarisk came along when it did.’

Backing up Ohmart is Bertin Anderson, an ornithologist turned soil scientist based in Blythe, Calif.. "Removing tamarisk and replacing it with native vegetation isn't going to happen on any major river in the Southwest," says Anderson, who has spent the last 25 years restoring native vegetation to sites along the lower Colorado River for the Bureau of Reclamation, various Indian tribes and other clients. Rivers and their banks have become saltier and drier since irrigated agriculture and dams came in more than 50 years ago, he says, and these conditions favor the hardier salt cedar over the cottonwoods and willows. Anderson says that dams have prevented the nurturing floods that wash salts out of the soil and moisten it to sustain native plants. “ Anderson says he analyzed a large portion of the Southwest's rivers, looking at soil conditions, and found that 75 percent of the area is no longer suitable for natives. ‘But a large percentage of the area is still suitable for tamarisk,’ he says. ‘In some places, the conditions are so bad that even tamarisk can't survive.’ Ohmart's and Anderson's viewpoints have elicited visceral reactions from those involved with tamarisk control. “I don't want to damage the willow flycatcher, but it's clear that the willow flycatcher has been hurt by saltcedar," says DeLoach. "There are 50 other endangered riparian species that could benefit from biocontrol of saltcedar. The Fish and Wildlife Service needs to look at the benefits to the whole ecosystem, not just the willow flycatcher. You want to manage for flux."

It seemed like our PSU group was in such a rural, unpopulated area of Utah, and yet once we were told about the invasive tamarisks, the impact of humans became clearly visible. A quick glance to either shoreline along our three day trip down the river between Bluff and Mexican Hat on the San Juan provided first hand views of this overpowering plant species. Only upon researching the topic did the controversial, complicated, conservation issues facing the West regarding this plant surface. We gained a new appreciation for the longterm consequences of invasive species- a global issue of concern.

Citations

1.) http://www.tamariskcoalition.org/tamariskcoalition/index.html

2.) http://www.discovermoab.com/tamarisk.htm

3) https://www.hcn.org/issues/131/4174

A Cultural and History Lesson In A Most Unusual Place by Jess Cossentino and Mary Ann McGarry

Posted on May 22, 2009 by Mary Ann

The sun was setting on Kayenta, AZ when I decided to join our professor, Mary Ann McGarry, to view a unique cultural and historical exhibit, displayed in the most unusual of places- the Burger King across the street from our hotel. Amidst the typical fast-food restaurant décor, in the middle of the dining room was a large glass case containing various artifacts and information on the “Code Talkers” of World War II. The term “Code Talkers” refers to the Native American soldiers who served in the United States Marine Corps whose primary job was the transmission of tactical information using a specially devised code. These men broadcasted military information via radio communications using the unique coded language derived from their native Navajo language.

The display within the large glass cases consisted of diverse pieces of historical memorabilia pertaining to these soldiers, from hand written letters to military uniforms. I was vaguely familiar with the role these soldiers played in the war from viewing the major motion picture, “Windtalkers”. Upon viewing this exhibit, I discovered how crucial these soldiers were in the United States’ success during World War II. Working around the clock during the first two days on Iwo Jima, six networks of the Navajo Codetalkers transmitted more than 800 messages without an error (5). I realized these men made a special contribution and deserve much honor, especially because recognition for their service was delayed for so long. Even after the war was long over, these men had to keep their role secret.

Code Talker Seal

During a time when the Japanese were able to break almost every American code, Philip, Johnston, the son of a missionary, presented the idea of using the Navajo language for military communication. Johnston was one of the few non-natives who knew the Navajo language as he had grown up on the reservation. After gaining approval, 29 Navajos were inducted in the United States Marine Corps to begin their training as “Codetalkers”(1). Ironically these individuals chose to fight for the well being of a government that had treated Native Americans on the reservations as “wards”, more than full fledged citizens. Now young Navajo men flocked to the opportunity to serve their country in a distinct way.

Several items in the exhibit explained the code itself, which was a deviation from the native Navajo language. Fearing the language itself could be deciphered, as complex as it was, a new code was formulated which essentially had to follow four major guidelines during its development: 1) The codes words had to have some kind of logical connection to the term to which they referred. 2) Code words had to be unusually descriptive. 3) Code words had to be short. 4) Words that could be confused with other words had to be avoided (1). A detailed, full length dictionary of this “unbreakable code” can be found at: http://www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq61-4.htm (2). To test the quality of the newly developed code, it was presented to native Navajo speakers who were not “Codetalkers” to see if they could decipher any meaning. They were unable to do so, which marked the code a success.

Navajo Codetalker Silver Medal

I was glad to see this exhibit recognize these special American soldiers and their great contributions to the success of the United States during World War II. The recognition was a long time coming; the code talkers weren’t formally recognized until 1992 in a public ceremony in Washington, D.C. The language wasn’t declassified until 1968 according to information provided in the display (3). The secret code remained classified after World War II, as it was considered still potentially valuable.

I was surprised at the location of the exhibit- a fast food joint. But, I also recognized this meant many more people had access to the information, individuals who might not otherwise seek out a war memorial in a museum. Burger King was open seven days a week, for long hours and was already staffed. And we, people who weren’t seeking fast food, were enticed to enter a Burger King, not because of the food or restrooms, but precisely to check out the exhibit. Not surprisingly, the owner of the Burger King is Navajo and created the “museum” from items collected from his father who served as a Navajo code talker (4). There is also a Navajo “Codetalker” exhibit in the Pentagon, but how nice to have one on the Navajo Reservation. In addition to the Burger King exhibit on the Reservation, there is also a new Veterans Memorial Park near the Navajo Nation Administration Center, in Window Rock, Arizona. Both in Kayenta and Window Rock, young Navajos have the opportunity to learn about and honor the service of their forefathers who served in the U.S. military, as do others who travel to the Southwest to learn more about the culture and history of the place. Citations

1.) http://library.thinkquest.org/J002073F/thinkquest/Code_talkers.htm

2.) http://www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq61-4.htm

3.) http://www.bridgeandtunnelclub.com/bigmap/outoftown/arizona/navajonation/monumentvalley/burgerking/index.htm

4.) http://www.rez-biz.com/html_past/i6_richard_mike_czar.htm

5.) 1stbattalion3rdmarines.com/.../largeposter.htm

6.) http://www.lapahie.com/NavajoCodeTalker_Silver_Medal.cfm

Navajo Codetalker Monument in Window Rock, AZ

The Hogan: The Traditional Navajo Home by Chelsi Coulombe and Mary Ann McGarry

Posted on May 21, 2009 by Mary Ann

Hogan next to Canyon de Chelly Visitor Center

My introduction to Navajo culture was on the first day of our PSU trip to the Colorado Plateau. At the Four Corners Outdoor School of Education in Monticello, Utah, the founder Janet Ross, gave us a tour of the facility. As we approached a beautiful, symmetrical structure with the door facing east, Janet informed us the multisided, usually hexagonal, wooden building was a Hogan, the traditional Navajo home.

Janet piqued my interest in Hogans when she explained the Navajo people believe if a death occurs in a Hogan the structure must be abandoned. Most of the time the Hogan is destroyed with fire so no one can live in the structure again. The deceased body is buried in the Hogan or a hole is made in the north side of the structure so the body can be carried out through the hole (1). From this point I became intrigued with learning more about the Navajo culture and in particular the Hogan.

The PSU students spent many hours in the van on our Southwest adventure driving through sparsely populated country, including through the Navajo Reservation in northwestern Arizona. Many communities we drove through on the Reservation consisted of clusters of trailer homes and/or government housing. Often a hogan was found next to the buildings. In the East, the wooden clapboard homes are sometimes described as having a “front house, middle house, back house, and outhouse”. On the Navajo Reservation, the custom was to have a Hogan as part of one’s living quarters. Today, most of the Navajo use the Hogan solely for ceremonies, rituals, and holidays, and not as their primary home.

Part of the lore about hogans includes a creation story, “…the first hogan was built by Coyote with help from the beavers. First Man, First Woman, Coyote and many others had just emerged from the layered worlds underground to the place of emergence on this world. Coyote suggested that the first hogan be built, a house for First Man, First Woman, and Talking God, but no one except Coyote (who had already done some travelling and snooping) knew what a hogan was. Coyote got logs and instructions on how to build the hogan from the Beaver People. Beaver told Coyote to sit on the ground facing east, holding his knees in both hands.” (2) The creation story emphasizes the integral and early role the Hogan played as part of the Navajo culture. One of the earliest forms of a Hogan was called a “fork-stick hogan,” modeled after a human being in a sitting position facing east- like Coyote in the creation story. A curtain covered the door facing east which enabled inhabitants to rise each morning and meet the dawn light.

Ceiling of a Hogan

The Hogan is usually made of wood logs and covered with earth. There are two main types: the original style called the forked pole Hogan, just described, and the more modern of the two, the stacked log Hogan. The two types of Hogans are also known as the female and male Hogan. The forked pole style is said to be male, protecting its inhabitants like a father. The stacked log Hogan is female and is said to care for its people like a mother. The female style Hogan is much more prevalent, coming into existence when the Navajo people started prospering and needed more room for bigger families. Both types of Hogans can be found side by side on the San Juan River near the town of Mexican Hat; our PSU group floated by these on our last day right before our take out.

Some of our PSU group members had a chance to visit and learn more about Hogans on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. There was a model with interpretive signs next to the Visitor Center in Canyon de Chelly National Monument, and also at a small open museum in the town of Kayenta, Arizona. Some of the elementary schools we visited on the Reservation also had a Hogan as part of their facility. One of the most interesting Hogans we observed was the one in the bottom of Canyon de Chelly, which had a sign posted requesting hikers not to photograph the Hogan as it was someone’s home.

There is always a cookstove in the center of a Hogan

The Navajo culture is full of symbolism, much of it emphasizing balance. The Hogan, as we first learned from Janet, is no exception. The dome roof symbolizes the sky, the floor the earth, and the word Hogan translates in Navajo as “place home.” The Navajo consider their home, the Hogan, to represent the earth. “A hogan is more than a shelter. To build a hogan is to make sense of the world, to live in harmony with the cycles and forces affecting all life.” (1) To me, the Hogan symbolizes the core of the culture and beliefs of the Navajo. All of the Hogans faced the same direction and had the same basic shape. Wherever we went the Hogan was a familiar and repeating presence on the Navajo Reservation. Our PSU group traveled to the Colorado Plateau to learn about diverse cultures, and the Hogan was one distinct, visible feature that differentiated the Navajo from the Ute tribes.

References:

1. (The Hogan by Scott Thybony).

2. (http://www.kstrom.net/isk/maps/houses/hogan.html).

"Uravan: A Fading Memory" by PSU student Jess Byrne and Mary Ann McGarry

Posted on May 21, 2009 by Mary Ann

As I walked into the elementary school in Paradox Valley, CO I was led to the office where I met Jon the principal and another faculty member who informed our PSU group about their backgrounds and where they each had grown up. The female teacher’s story intrigued me, she related that the town where she was raised no longer exists. When I asked for an explanation, she told me almost everything in the community had been placed in a big hole and buried under concrete.

Uravan is a special kind of ghost town. Once an active mining district, when the perils of human exposure to certain radioactive materials was documented, the town was declared a superfund site, and the uranium and other related toxic contaminated materials were “cleaned up”. I was astonished; I couldn’t imagine my hometown becoming non-existent and having all of my childhood memories fading into a dream-like recollection. I realized the teacher I’d met could never visit her old house, or the places she use to hang out with her childhood friends. I immediately wanted to know more about the removal of this town!

Upon returning to New Hampshire and conducting some research, I learned the site of Uravan is located in Montrose County, Colorado (refer to attached map). This 680 acre site along the San Miguel River, close to the border of southeastern Utah has not only been abandoned, all that remains is a boarding house and recreation hall and posted signs warning visitors that the area may be radioactive. The town’s name is derived from compounds mined in the area-“Ura” for uranium and “Van” for vanadium. The region supplied Madame Curie with radium for her pioneering medical research, and Manhattan Project scientists for their development of the atomic bomb- a weapon used on Japan to end World War II.

The story of Uravan began in 1881 when the yellow-colored ore carnotite - a mineral that contains radium,

Carnotite

vanadium, and uranium- was discovered in the vicinity. In 1915 a mill was established, and in 1928 the U.S. Vanadium Corporation acquired the mill and started refining vanadium, a mineral primarily used to harden steel (1). In the mid-1930’s the company then built stores, a post office, a fire station, schools, a health clinic, and other recreational amenities for its employees (2). “At one time, over 800 people lived along the tree-lined streets…” (3) Active mining in the area continued through the 1950’s, and then declined in the ‘60’s and ’70’s.

View of Uravan and the river

The mining process left large volume of wastes which contaminated the air, soil and groundwater near the plant. Contaminants included radioactive products- crystals and mill tailings containing radioactive uranium and radium. Other chemicals in the tailings and ground water included heavy metals, such as lead, arsenic, cadmium and vanadium. Environmental cleanup of the site commenced in 1986 and was essentially completed by 2001. (3) Residents had to move at this time. The contaminated materials were relocated and placed in “covered containment cells” (4). Because no one now lives in the town of Uravan the health risks are considered low; the land and water are no longer being used, so Uravan is no longer considered a hazard (5)After investigating the history of Uravan, I gained a new appreciation for the EPA and other organizations that protect human health. I wonder how many former residents of Uravan suffered consequences from years of living on the contaminated site. Not only was their health compromised, but they eventually lost their town. Former residents have tried to keep their memories alive through an online memorial website (3). I certainly didn’t expect to return from my first visit to the Colorado Plateau with such an interesting Ghost town. Learning about a place that so significantly impacted American and world history had special meaning for me as a result of personally meeting a former resident.

Ore truck unloading

Bibliography

1. http://www.mii.org/Minerals/photovan.html.
2. http://coloradohistory-oahp.org/programareas/shf/articles/2002/uravan.htm.
3. http://www.uravan.com/.
4. http://www.epa.gov/Region8/superfund/co/uravan/
5. Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment, 4 May, 2009,
6. http://www.cdphe.state.co.us/hm/rpuravan.htm#summary.
Photo of Uravan with the San Miguel River in front http://www.dregs.org/fldtrips.html.
Photo of the mineral cartonite, http://mysite.du.edu/~jcalvert/phys/uranium.htm.
Location of Uravan

The Golden Eagle by PSU student, Chelsi Coulombe (edited by MaryAnn McGarry)

Posted on May 11, 2009 by Mary Ann

A Plymouth State University group of students experienced the amazing beauty of the Southwest while floating down the San Juan River during a travel course that took place during our March spring break of ‘09. Gray cottonwoods lined the river banks and contrasted with the red canyon and blue sky backdrop. These vistas and temperatures were a much welcomed change to the cold white landscape in New Hampshire that we had left behind. The San Juan River winds through the arid canyon country like a snake.

On the first day, around one of the meandering bends, we spotted a dark animal on the sandy bank. I rummaged quickly through my pack looking for my camera trying not to take my eyes off this dark figure. The large bird picked its head up briefly to watch us. As the raft floated closer and the bird continued to tear at a dead deer, the bird’s size became apparent. We were observing a golden eagle, the largest bird of prey in North America, with a wing span ranging from 6 to 8 feet long (http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birds/golden-eagle.html). We were so close that I could see its hooked beak and large yellow talons dig into carrion. Unlike the bald eagle, that can be seen along river ways in New Hampshire, the golden eagle has feathers on its legs that extend all the way down to their talons (observable in the photo). Otherwise, immature bald eagles resemble golden eagles, although golden eagles are a bit larger. Also golden eagles mainly prey on small mammals, but will eat small birds and reptiles when game is scarce, whereas bald eagles primarily eat fish(http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Golden_Eagle/lifehistory).

Golden eagle on the San Juan River

Golden eagles are known to be monogamous and along with their mate they’ll maintain a territory of up to 60 square miles. The golden eagle is the national bird of Mexico and is found along the whole western continent of North American from Alaska down to Mexico. Some that live in the colder climates like Canada and Alaska migrate south in late fall but most maintain the same territory year round (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Eagle#Heraldry). Golden eagles are more aggressive than bald eagles and will not allow bald eagles to coexist in the same area (correspondence with staff at the Sonoran Desert Museum, Tucson, AZ.) As we moved past the eagle, its mate could be seen watching intently from the canyon wall. The high walls of the canyons provide the perfect place to make nests safe from predators. The female lays an average of 2 eggs once a year that are white in color or occasionally white with small cinnamon color blotches. Both the male and the female help incubate the eggs for about 40 to 45 days until they hatch (http://dwrcdc.nr.utah.gov/rsgis2/Search/Display.asp?F lNm=aquichry). This unexpected, close-up sighting of wildlife was one of the most memorable experiences of the trip. I will always remember the beauty of this majestic creature.

Chelsi on Ladder in Mancos CanyonLadders in Ute Mountain Ute Tribal Park

Ladders in Ute Mountain Ute Tribal Park

The San Juan River wasn’t the only place we saw evidence of this animal in the Southwest. The golden eagle is represented in artifacts from different cultures on the Colorado Plateau, specifically, the Native American tribes. Golden eagle feathers are still used in some traditional ceremonies, and significant places are appropriately named for the birds. On our last day of our journey through the four corners region, we visited the Ute Mountain Tribal Park, on the back side of Mesa Verde. Marshall, our Ute guide, not much older than ourselves, was incredibly knowledgeable about so many aspects of the area-history, culture, and flora and fauna. The last cliff dwelling we visited in Mancos Canyon was accessed by climbing down four wooden ladders, hiking along a ledge for approximately a mile, then up a fifth long ladder, not suitable for those fearing heights, and finally we had to duck under an overhang for approximately 15 feet to reach a well preserved ruin in an alcove sitting half way up the canyon wall.

View of Eagle's Perch Ruin

View from Eagle's Perch Ruin

This remarkable site, more easily reached by eagles than humans, was aptly named Eagle’s Nest. From our first day to our last, the eagle, in one way or another, welcomed us to the Southwest, and for me became symbolic of our trip.

Fossils on the San Juan River: Evidence of a Changed Environment

Posted on March 27, 2009 by Mary Ann

Ammonite Fossil Next To Quarter For Scale

Rafting down the upper section of the San Juan River from Sand Island to Mexican Hat, in southeastern Utah, there is a fossil stop near the entrance of Lime Creek, after the river emerges from the canyon. While much of the San Juan River passes through colorful layers of sandstone, the fossils of note are in a dark gray limestone. Here is definite evidence that what is now desert was once covered by marine water. The ancient Paradox Sea inundated a large area in the region and teemed with the marine life whose remains are before us.

I’m not the only one with “paleo-passion” (a term possibly coined by writer Donovan Webster in his article, "The Dino Wars: Who Owns American's Fossils", Smithsonian Magazine, April 2009, p. 48-57), but as an earth science educator, I feel protective of even one small trace of a fossil- what’s called a “fossil mold”, an impression made in the substrate. This is the only ammonite fossil I’ve seen in its actual place of formation and so to me it is noteworthy. A thoughtless individual could damage the find, chiseling the mold out of the surrounding matrix, although I can’t imagine the tools or techniques that would be required to do so. It’s possible the true fossil form- the actual body of the animal making the mold- was removed by an eariler collector. In discussing our itinerary on the river, I make sure our guide, Brett LeCompte, working for the Four Corners Outdoor School, stops at the fossil site.

We read and hear so much on our geo-cultural travel study trip to the Colorado Plateau about policies and practices regarding how to respectfully visit Ancestral Puebloan ruins, that I am curious about laws protecting fossils. With a little research, I learn that currently fossils can be taken from private lands with permission of the owner for private collections or auction. Some fossil materials, like petrified wood, in limited quantities, may be taken from public lands without permits. However, additional legislation- the Paleontological Resources Protection Act- has been drafted mandating, “only trained, federally certified professionals be allowed to extract fossils from public lands,” (Webster, p. 56). The intent of the bill is to substanially increase penalties for illegal fossil excavation.

I wonder how much concern there is for ammonities which can be found for sell in fossil stores and on the web. Webster logged onto Ebay and found an ammonite specimen, expecting to go for $3000. Excavating specimens from their resting place eliminates the educational and scientific context, and for me the special significance and value of the fossil.

Ammonite structure

This particular fossil, resulting from ages of compression and cementation, is an invertebrate specimen, a highly developed marine mollusk belonging to the extinct family of ammonites of the cephalopod class. Similar to the shells of snails, cephalapods shells are divided into chambers. Modern members of cephalopods, like the squid and octopus have only two gills, while members of the ammonoid and nautiloid families have four gills. (I can't imagine gills being distinguishable in a fossil.)

These living animals first appeared during the Silurian Period, approximately 400 million years ago and were abundant and widespread in oceans during the Jurassic and Cretaceous geologic periods. Ammonites are important index fossils, because they can be used to provide a relative date for the rock layer in which they are found as species evolved over time.

The shells of ammonites had hollow chambers separated by walls called septa. A tube called the siphuncle, connected the body with the chambers allowing the animal to use water or air to change its buoyancy in order to rise or drop in the ocean. Only the last and largest chamber was occupied by the living animal. Ammonites vary greatly in size, the largest early forms could be 15 feet. Shell shapes varied as well; some can be snail like and others are uncoiled.

Ammonites fed on plankton and lived exclusively in marine environments and so their presence indicate the location of prehistoric seas. Now, the arid West means little vegetation covers the rocks, making fossils like ammonites easier to find. The limestone and other sedimentary layers of rock deposited in ancient environments are now being exposed, revealing what this corner of the world was once like. For me, this fossil stop is as rich a window into the past as any of the human related historical sites we visit.

Rowing through the Paradox Formation

Travelling along this river by boat, takes you back in time, not only to the time of Ancestral Puebloans, but to a period where the environment was very different. In relation, our modern concerns about how climate change might impact a particular region, seem so anthropomorphically insignificant.

A nice animated image show several perspectives of an ammonite can be found at: http://www.paleodirect.com/ammonites.htm, accessed on 3-27-09.

Exploring An Ancient Tree House

Posted on May 11, 2006 by Mary Ann

I am perched on a ledge at 7,000 feet on the underside of a cliff. There is an ancient cliff dwelling directly in front of me. My hands are touching it. It feels firm, architecturally secure, almost like it was constructed in modern times. I would not guess it dates back to the 12^th century. This dwelling, named Spruce Tree House, was discovered in 1888 by Richard Wetherill and Charles Mason (Spruce Tree House: Mesa Verde National Park Visitors Guide; Mesa Verde National Park, 1986). These men came upon the 114 room, eight kiva, Spruce Tree House while searching for their cattle that were lost in the area. The dwelling was marked by a large Douglas spruce tree that was growing from the front of the dwelling to the top of the mesa. It is believed that the men first penetrated the ruin by climbing down the tree.

Spruce Tree House is a human-made marvel that needed to be preserved. Mesa Verde National Park was established 18 years later, in 1906, to fulfill this need. This would mark the first time in our nation's history that a national park was created to protect an historical, culturally important human-made structure. Spruce Tree House is the third largest cliff dwelling in Mesa Verde National Park. It was built by the Ancestral Puebloans between the years A.D. 1200 and 1276 and remains mostly preserved. However, the overhanging cliff is now tattooed with red coloring resembling paint. As I stood there, gazing up at the red coloring, I wondered if it was Ancestral Puebloan pictographs or a modern addition. The ranger on duty helped make the clarification. The red coloring is a fire retardant chemical sprayed on the overhanging cliff to hold back the forest fires that destroyed part of the park in 1996.

While navigating through the ruin with my classmates it was hard to believe that at one point this dwelling was home to as many as 100 people. The 114 rooms and eight kivas (ceremonial chambers) that were part of the original dwelling do not seem to be enough space. Spruce Tree House measures 216 feet at its greatest width and 89 feet at its greatest depth.

Dr. Jesse Walter Fewkes of the Smithsonian Institution contributed to the opening of the Spruce Tree House for visitation by the public. The site was excavated, fallen debris was removed, and walls were stabilized. The majority of the ruin is open for navigation except for a few sections towards the back. The restoration of the ruin even includes a reconstructed kiva that allows you to climb down a ladder and become part of an environment occupied so long ago. It is through the foresight of Fewkes and those who established Mesa Verde National Park that as a visitor to the area I now have the opportunity to navigate through this sandstone masterpiece.

"Take only photographs, Leave only footprints"- Only You Have to Be Even More Careful On The Colorado Plateau, In Watching Where You Walk!

Posted on May 10, 2006 by Mary Ann

Low impact trekking wasn't my primary learning objective for the Plymouth State University students accompanying me on a travel study course to the Four Corners region of the U.S. However, as an environmental educator, treading lightly and responsibly is certainly an important message I want to convey to others. The Bioregional Outdoor Education Project staff of the Four Corners Outdoor School, our hosts for the course, helped set the stage at the beginning of our trip. They communicated and modeled a respectful environmental ethic in all our activities, especially with regards to low impact camping in a heavily used corridor along a river in a high desert environment. For instance, we picked up any wayward food scraps from our outdoor feasts so as not to attract ants to the most favorable camping sites for those following us down the San Juan River.

It wasn't until we decided to hike the Devil's Garden Trail in Arches National Park at the end of the trip, that I really became curious about the vulnerability of biological soil crusts- a new concept that surfaced in our trip out West- our river guides mentioned it. However, while in Arches, it's hard to look at your feet and worry about conservation, when there are such spectacular, colorful vistas drawing the eyes upward. It was only on returning home that I finally had time to investigate biological soil crusts in more depth. Fortunately, the Visitor Guide to Arches National Park included an informative article which was a starting point for my research on the topic.

I was particularly intrigued about the collection of constituents making up the cryptobiotic soil- cyanobacteria, mosses, soil lichens, green algae, microfungi and bacteria (Arches National Park Visitor Guide, Vol.1, No.8, 205, Canyonlands Natural History Association, www.cnha.org, pg 6). Soil crust is estimated to cover almost 75 percent of the Colorado Plateau and is considered to be alive and ecologically important. Cyanobacteria is considered to be the most prevalent and important constituent. "When filaments of cyanobacteria are moistened, they advance through the soil, leaving sheaths of sticky mucilage on their trail. These gluey filaments bind to soil particles and, over time, can create an erosion-resistant surface," (Arches National Park Visitor Guide, Vol.1, No.8, 205, Canyonlands Natural History Association, www.cnha.org, pg 6). This description of cyanobacteria reminded me of slugs leaving a trail of slime. I was intrigued to learn more about this aspect of biology; cyanobacteria had not been part of my earth science education. An inquiring mind requires interdisciplinary research.

Cyanobacteria are microscopic, photosynthesizing organisms, rich in chemical diversity, and some forms were once classified as blue green algae. Motile species have some microbiologists referring to them as "gliding bacteria" for their peculiar locomotion habits. Photosynthetic pigments can impart a host of different colors-yellow, red, violet, green, deep blue and blue-green... Cyanobacteria may be single-celled or colonial and are among the easiest microfossils to recognize, being larger than other bacteria. Some have remained the same for billions of years. Cyanobacteria also have the useful trait of being able to capture nitrogen from the air and can then convert it to a form plants can use. So, cyanobacteria serve as a fertilizer in this way- a useful trait in an ecosystem notoriously poor in nitrogen. The sticky sheaths described above also bind to calcium, potassium, and manganese making these nutrients available to plants in a useable form. "When wet, the sheaths will expand to ten times their dry size, enabling the soil crust to retain more moisture." So, biological crusts provide stable soil, nutrients, and moisture. The term biological soil crust, also called cryptobiotic crust, emphasizes that these areas are "formed by living organisms and their by-products, creating a crust of soil particles bound together by organic materials" (soilcrust.org).

Back to trekking in the high desert in Arches National Park, when wayward foot steps trod upon the sheaths, they can be destroyed and the cyanobacteria as part of a delicate microsystem cease to function. So, the once "biological" crust is no longer fulfilling its vital roles. Pieces break off and are blown away by the wind. Loose sand covers the remaining biological crust blocking sunlight and photosynthesis stops. It is really important to stay on marked trails, walk on solid rock, or in drainages so as not to impact the biological crusts. The motto while in Arches is don't "bust the crust". Reminding hikers to leave no trace while exploring the Colorado Plateau takes on a special meaning and requires a new kind of vigilance in watching where one walks.

For most of us New Englanders, biological soil crusts are a novelty as they are a feature of arid environments. The closest connection we can make is with fragile, above timberline, alpine terrains that harbor rare plants- one of the reasons that the White Mountain National Forest doesn't allow geo-caching in it's boundaries.

I have seen media headlines, "Are We Loving Our Parks to Death?" I wondered if raising awareness about biological soil crusts figured into any VERP studies. VERP which stands for Visitor Experience and Resource Protection is a new focus for our public parks. Arches National Park has been part of a VERP study, in the last few years, which looks at visitor impacts as well as visitor perceptions; asking visitors what number of people seen on the trail is an â€œacceptable numberâ€? before they begin to feel crowded. They are shown computer-generated photos of the trail, each with an increasing number of people on them. The results help park managers make decisions. Reading about VERP reminded me of a new policy I'd heard about being instituted in the White Mountain National Forest; group sizes larger than 10 are discouraged from hiking trails, to help maintain a quality experience for all. Were certain visitor policies being universally shared across our public lands? How much attention was being paid to biological soil crusts. I did discover Soilcrust.org, a website dedicated to the topic.

I lived in Arizona from 1983-1987 and had never heard of biological soil crusts. So, I wondered when the term was coined, who did the research, and how it was conducted. Could I find and line up a scientist at Arches or in the area who could inform my next group of students to the region about this important concept. I personally wanted a closer glimpse into the world of cryptosoils so I could become a more informed, passionate advocate for protecting these fragile systems.

First Impressions of Arches National Park

Posted on May 10, 2006 by Mary Ann

Driving down US 191, just north of Moab (the largest town in southeast Utah), red arches of Entrada sandstone began to emerge in the distance. The sun was midway over the red sandstone cliffs along the northern edge of Moab. It was 8:00 am and music was blasting on the rental Suburban stereo as our sport utility vehicle full of Plymouth State University students winds up the steep mountain road, past the ranger station, and up several steeper mountain sections. Dark shadows were still cast on some areas of the road where the sun had not quite made it up over the sculptured red rocks. The Suburban automatically shifted gears as we passed the sandy desert terrain that expanded as far as the eyes could see on both sides of the road. A perfectly upright column loomed in front of us as we passed the sections of the park known as Park Avenue and Courthouse Towers. These sections are comprised of monolithic spires and ridges of rock standing isolated in otherwise mostly flat, desert terrain. They have been featured in many films, including Thelma and Louise. As we continued on our geological journey, we crossed over a switchback that led us through an open, undulating landscape of petrified sand dunes and eroded pinnacles (www.americansouthwest.net), until we entered the Windows Section of the park.

The Windows Section was the first major location of arches and other geological formations that we could view from the road, including Double Arch, Cove Arch, and Balanced Rock. As we continued down the road, we passed a vantage point for the viewing of the Delicate Arch, the most famous arch in the park, and the Utah state symbol. When you visit Utah, look closely at the license plates, and you will see this arch displayed on the Utah Centennial plates.

The often snow capped blue La Sal Mountains near the Colorado border became more distinct as they stood out drastically from the brilliantly colored features of the Fiery Furnace as we continued up the road. The Fiery Furnace is an intricate maze of eroded red and cream-colored ridges with narrow gullies between them (www.americansouthwest.net). A few minutes later, we arrived at the trailhead.

When we began the 6 mile loop trail I had no idea that it would lead us to 8 major arches, including Landscape Arch, the longest arch in the world. My head was not filled with any preconceived notions because, before our Plymouth State University sponsored trip, I had never heard of Arches National Park. I had never seen any pictures, websites, or postcards. The Grand Canyon and Yosemite were the only national parks I had been familiar with and that is because I have been to the Grand Canyon and Yosemite is popular for rock climbing, which is one of my interests. I live on the East coast and state parks are what I grew up learning about. The idea of national parks was foreign to me. Since visiting Arches National Park I have expanded my interest in learning about these parks and what they were created to protect. National parks are no longer foreign to me because I was able to visit both Mesa Verde National Park and Arches National Park during my trip.

It is astonishing to me that the trail I hiked with the rest of the group was only a portion of 73,000 scenic acres of the most prestigious geological formations in the world. Our group spent almost an entire day hiking, observing, and learning about the natural sandstone arches. This amount of time was adequate considering my present knowledge of geology and the fact that I wouldn't be able to actually study the arches like many of the geologists that travel to the park. As an avid bicycle rider, I would like to return to the area to bike the road that navigates through the park. I would like to ride with my father who has never traveled to a national park or seen anything as naturally brilliant as the arches that I witnessed in the park.

History is all around us, but rarely can you view such extraordinary geological features depicting millions of years of natural time-driven changes in one place. This place is Arches National Park, just north of Moab, Utah.

--Matt Stanton

Wondering About the Varying Sizes of Native American Reservations in the Four Corners Region

Posted on May 5, 2006 by Mary Ann

Having lived in Arizona, I certainly was familiar with the relative large size of the Navajo Reservation (27,000 square miles- the largest Native American Reservation in the U.S.) compared to the much smaller Hopi Reservation (6000 square miles). However, I knew virtually nothing about the Ute Reservations until visiting the Four Corners Outdoor School. We drove by signs in southern Utah designating that we were passing through the Ute Reservation.

I wondered why the Ute reservation lands weren't contiguous. I learned the story is complicated; there are three groups of Utes: 1) the Northern Ute who live on the Uintah-Ouray Reservation near Fort Duchesne in northeastern Utah; 2) the Southern Ute who live in the southwestern corner of Colorado near Ignacio; and 3) the Ute Mountain Ute who live near Towaoc, Colorado, and also small sections of Utah and New Mexico (http://www.cpluhna.nau.edu/People/ute_indians.htm). The White Mesa Community of Utah, near Blanding, is part of the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe, but is largely autonomous. The Northern Ute are the largest tribe and the largest reservation in Utah. The largest section of the Ute Mountain Ute Reservation is situated in the southwestern portion of Colorado and the northwestern portion of New Mexico, just to the northeast of the much larger Navajo Reservation and bordering Mesa Verde. In addition to the above described Ute Mountain Ute tribal reservation lands, there are individually owned lands or allotments, as well as US Government lands utilized for school purposes, all in southeast Utah near Blanding. Also the tribe holds fee patent title to seven tracts of land located in Utah and Colorado. These differing designations makes it difficult to draw clean boundaries around the reservation (www.eere.energy.gov/tribalenergy/guide/pdfs/ute_mountain_ute.pdf).

One of the more interesting aspects of the Ute Mountain Ute Reservation, is the Ute Mountain Tribal Park, overshadowed by the more famous Mesa Verde National Park, but which has been selected by National Geographic Traveler as one of "80 World Destinations for Travel in the 21st Century", one of only 9 places in the United States to receive this special designation (http://swcolo.org/Tourism/Archaeology/utemtn.html.) The Park is approximately 125,000 acres is size, including a 25 mile long stretch of the Mancos River, and contains more archaeological sites than adjacent, more famous Mesa Verde. The Tribal Park must be explored with a Ute guide (http://www.eere.energy.gov/tribalenergy/title26/ute_mtn_summary.html). We wondered about the nature and extent of the ruins just outside Mesa Verde and the number of tourists that took the trouble to visit the latter.

We noticed as we drove through the four states that some of the Ute reservations seemed more prosperous, like those that allowed gambling. There are also cultural as well as economic differences among the Utes. The Southern Ute of Colorado are the wealthiest of the tribes and have financial assets approaching $2 billion from gambling (Sky Ute Casino), tourism, oil & gas, real estate leases, and other off-reservation financial and business investments (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ute_Tribe). The Utes in Utah are not allowed to have gambling. I never thought about the origin of the word Utah, derived from the name Ute, until I visited southeastern Utah and saw the signs for the Ute Reservations.

--Mary Ann McGarry, instructor