Colusa National Wildlife Refuge

White-fronted Goose (Anser albifrons)

White-fronted Goose (Anser albifrons)

Avocet

Colusa National Wildlife Refuge

I think this is a Juvenile Merlin?
Some time ago, when Shawnkielty.com was up and running I had a page for Colusa NWR. Sites like stateparks.com linked to me, as a "friend" of the refuge. It was a short page with a few pictures. It's true though, I am and have been a patron and a friend of the refuge.

I stopped there on my way back from Oregon and shot a few pictures.

Nestbox

Black Phoebe

Nuttall's Woodpecker

Cattail

Coots.

Blue Heron

Coot

White Faced Ibis

Cormorants
There's more ... a lot more. I'll post a few more tomorrow.

Mt. Shasta

IMG00028.jpg

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

IMG00021.jpg

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Willamette River Day Hike

It's a fairly short tale, really. My friend Mark, his dog Buster, and I went for a Hike along the Willamette near Eugene, Oregon this morning. It was pretty rainy, so we all got a bit wet.

Beaver's Lodge

Mark and Buster
kielty
That Would be Me

Sandbar in the Willamette

There's an Eagle's Nest in There

Wet ...

Our lives can be easily represented by our accumulated stories, the stories we have to tell, good stories usually, since we forget the boring day stories, the dull lusterless grey stories. We live to accumulate stories. We can remember the good days and the bad days; the better or worse the day, often the better the story. I remember the first time I drove a car, Big Frank’s brand new 1971 Cadillac. I was 13. And it was really stuck in the mud on Airport road just west of Colusa, CA. Everyone else was pushing that car, me being the smallest person, I had to drive.

Sometimes, it’s hard to find a good story to tell, despite challenging environments and meeting interesting people, when nothing good or bad really happens. It’s not like I got frostbitten, I just got wet last weekend in a rainstorm because my tent failed. I have several stories to tell about getting wet …

When I was younger, my father used to say that if there was puddle within a few miles I would find it and fall into it. He wasn’t entirely off the mark. Once, when we went goose hunting, I stepped out of the car into a three foot deep post-hole (the only puddle for miles around), sending my right leg in that puddle up to my testicles. What he never knew despite all his story telling, was that I could set my tent up in it too, and usually I would. I have been every variety of wet in the wilds … in over my waders … nude swimming in the icy Couer D’Alene … showering under a hand pump in a desert campground … falling drunkenly out of a canoe … and genuine difficulties, like the plank bridge snapping below me over Rock Creek one cold April morning, or me in the water with a bunch of rattlesnakes swimming very near there later that summer. I’ve been wet so many times, for so many reasons it’s often been a joke to those that know me. There’s a whole other story about me and broken glass …

When I was younger and I got wet it was often a problem. When I was about 16, I went to Yosemite for spring break; with a few of my high school friends. Ron Kauk might have been there trying to unlock the famed Midnight Lightning. My friends all hitch-hiked to the valley. I wanted to, but my mother insisted I ride the bus. I went to Sunnyside (now Camp 4) where we were all supposed to meet and I set up my gear. My friends didn’t show. I set my tube tent (my first of many bad tent decisions) up in a wash between two trees, which, ummm … filled with water when it rained during the night.

I moved into the heated bathroom at Camp 4 with a wet sleeping bag and my aspirations; aspirations of being in the wilderness and being a naturalist and a guide and a savvy outdoorsman. Ron Kauk might have come into the bathroom and given me advice about how to dry out my bag. “Go to Housekeeping Camp and use the dryers.” I tried to stay in the bathroom, but it was busy and the Ranger threw me out repeatedly, and threatened to find me a “Warm place to stay.” It was impossible.

The next morning I was soaked. It was cold and getting colder. I tried to find a place to dry out my gear. By noon the snow level had dropped to right above the valley floor, and I was still struggling to get my gear dried out. By dark it was snowing heavily on the valley floor.

At about 9 or 10 that night I called my parents and they came and got me – I had had enough. I never got my gear dried out, and I never really found my friends. It was cold and I was starting to suffer from it. So much for my aspirations.

My aspirations. To be a savvy outdoorsman.

Here I am many years later, and I haven’t lost my touch. I set my tent up in what would later become a puddle, left the fly door open and was drenched by morning. Additionally, the tent failed miserably. It leaked through the floor and ceiling. I was seriously wet. There’s one small difference. I was warm. I was wet, but warm. These days I can afford a lot better gear. Soaking wet in Patagonia Capilene base layer and a North Face Snowshoe 0 degree bag, in 35 degrees winter wetness, and I was toasty warm. Mostly.

Setting up my tent in the yard to dry it out, I realized that the paint that said “Sierra Designs” on the side was wearing off, indicating the obvious age of the tent. It has been through a dozen rainstorms, several windstorms and several snowstorms. It’s seen better days. So now I am looking at a new tent.

Party at Bean Street

Pool Shoreline
I used photostich to put this together.

Rain ...

... Still isn't that much fun. I got a bit wet last night.

You Remind Me of ...

Fire Damage near the North Entrance to the Valley

Tenaya Creek

Half Dome from the Meadow

Mirror Lake

Mirror Lake

1 March 2009. Yosemite Valley
It’s threatening to rain as the daylight fades and I am cozy in the Great Room at the Ahwahnee, curled up by the big fire listening to these sounds from the 20’s. It wasn't easy to find an internet connection here in pardise, but if you spend enough, you can connect in the lobby of your hotel for free, even in paradise. I'm not staying in the Ahwahnee, mind you, but I am enjoying the pleasures of the lobby.

It's been fairly grey here and threatening to rain for days, but I did manage to take a few photos of the fire damage up near the old Big Oak Flat road on Friday.

Crystal Magic -- Yosemite Valley -- Day 5

During the night, the valley was transformed into a crystal palace. Blame it on elves or just the sun coming out; glitter and light were literally falling from the sky. It was magic.

Beyond that, there's not too much to talk about. Three things happened. I got stood up for breakfast, a snow plow pulled into the parking lot about ten minutes before I was ready to try to drive out (do the miracles never cease), and I shot about 100 photos before I left at about 1. At one point I literally stopped my truck in the road to shoot out the window, explaining the the honking car behind me, "Hey, it's a photo emergency." Enjoy!

Wild Crazy Snow -- Yosemite Valley -- Day 4

The Buried Table


My Truck, Also Buried


Well, by Tuesday, it has been snowing for three days. The people left in the valley are talking of cabin fever, and I am starting to feel a general dampness creeping into everything. I went down to the Village Store and out to the Mountain Store for some gloves and a more convenient hat. Later, I would abandon photography altogether in favor of a hot shower compliments of the Curry Co. I walked back to camp from the Village after lunch and managed to find a few shots. It was getting harder to stay warm, keep my camera from getting fogged up, and stay focused on photos.


Efforts to Save the Black Oak


Shot from the Meadow


South Face of the Valley Wall