Gone Batty

Bats are probably one of the most misunderstood creatures on the planet. I would just like to dispell some of the harmful myths about bats and give people some good websites to become more educated about bats. Bats are actually very important to the ecosystem, they pollinate many of the foods we eat: avocados, mangoes, figs, etc., and are basically the only pollinator of the agave plant (used in the production of tequila). Who would have known that without bats there would be no tequila.
Bats are also important as pest control..they save farmers millions of dollars each year by not having to spray their fields with harmful pesticides. They also eliminate mosquitoes around peoples back yards and in wildlife areas, eliminating the chance of people and animals contracting diseases such as encephalitis, malaria, and west Nile virus. Bats are also important in health care. Scientists have discovered that the saliva from vampire bats has a useful anticoagulant that is being used to make a drug to help people with heart problems and blood clots.
I urge people that have bats in their yards to let them be, and to enjoy the fact that they are there. Try and preserve wildlife habitat on your property as well as in your local communities. If you have bats in your house..please make sure you resolve the problem so as not to harm the bats. There are humane extraction methods that will be included in the websites I post below. Almost every bat species in existence is in decline due to habitat loss, loss of roosts, or to eradication by humans. Bats are very slow reproducers and only give birth to one or two pups a year also contributing to their decline.
I have always been fascinated by bats and recently became involved in being in charge of the bat program where I work. I have attended bat workshops and am working with other bat biologists and experts in my area. I do bat surveys on a regular basis using equipment that records bat calls, and bat frequencies. I use night vision goggles to try and see flight patterns, size, color, and any of clues as to their identification. I survey at roost sites as well and doing open air surveys. I also have a good population of bats where I live, so can often be found testing out my bat equipment literally in my own backyard.
I am now learning to access bridges and freeway overpasses for the possibility of bats using it as a roost. I am also educating myself about bat boxes and their placement as we now have people interested in our organization installing bat boxes for them. I am constantly researching and learning new things about bats and would love if people here would also share their knowledge of bats with me as well. If you come across any articles, news stories, good websites, etc..please feel free to email me.
Helpful bat websites below:
http://www.batcon.org/home/index.asp?idPage=122
http://www.batworld.org/main/main.html
http://home.earthlink.net/~cmsquare/batfacts.html
http://dnr.state.il.us/conservation/naturalheritage/bats/bats.htm
http://www.wbwg.org/

26 Miles Across The Sea...

Santa Catalina is a-waitin for me…or at least this is how the song from The Four Preps written back in the 50’s goes. Catalina Island is one of the Channel islands and is located just about 26 miles off shore of Los Angeles. This is the place I spent three springs in a row working for the Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center studying the endemic Orange-crowned Warbler. This is a little yellowish-greenish bird with a bright orange flash of feathers on the top of it’s head..hence it’s name. The little orange crown is not always prominently displayed, but can be quite obvious on males either showing off for a female or fighting off a rival male in his territory.
The island consists of the “city” of Avalon, although I lived in the interior of the island in an area called “Middle Ranch” which mostly consists of employees and/or biologists that work for the Catalina Conservancy (whom owns most of the island) or the Institute for Wildlife Studies. There are no cars allowed on the island except by special permit. Only golf carts are allowed in the city of Avalon, but not anywhere outside the city limits. We however had the special permits to drive cars on the island and had access to the city AND the entire rest of the island. This allowed us to drive to our study sites, and make trips into the city at least weekly for groceries and supplies. It also allowed us to visit many beaches that most people could not gain access to except by boat. We would spend time on beautiful beaches that were empty of other visitors.
While I was there, we were not the only researchers on the island. There was also a group of biologists studying the island fox, the Bald Eagle, plants, a woman studying shrews, another studying feral cats, and a biologist studying herptiles, as well as a handful of pig hunters. We all identified each other by what type of animal or thing we studied. It was sort of like being a member of a tribe. We were known as ”the bird people“, while others were “the fox people“, “the eagle people“, and the “shrew girl”.
The little birds we studied were unique in that they nested both on and off the ground. Their mainland counterparts (a separate sub-species) nested strictly on the ground. The study was to see why they nested where they did and to figure out other basic behaviors.
We captured all the birds by mist net and banded each with a unique color code. Each bird was given 3 color bands and one numbered aluminum Fish and Wildlife band (2 on each leg). We always placed the aluminum band on the right leg along with another color, and 2 color bands on the left leg. We would read the colors like so: top right, bottom right, top left, bottom left. We would use letters to represent each color (usually the first letter of the color) so that we could “name” the bird by it’s color band. For example a bird with green band above an aluminum on it’s right leg, and an orange band above a white band on it’s left leg would be called “GAOW” (Green, Aluminum, Orange, White). Many of the combos we used made funny words that became the birds “name”. We had an “AROO” (Aluminum, Red, Orange, Orange), WARY (White Aluminum, Red, Yellow), etc. etc. Some of my other favorite names were “RAYY” or “Ray Y” as I called him, and “WABuBu” (White, Aluminum, Blue, Blue). We cheated a little to make other names more interesting, like “ABuGY” who became known as “A bogey”. Whenever we referred to these birds we would use their given “names” and often thought if anyone overheard us talking they would think we were speaking in code or some secret made up language especially since we talked about the birds as if they were people or friends .
We did different experiments to see if we could influence where the birds built their nests. We placed different decoys in their territory while they were nest building. We placed a stuffed Scrub Jay (an aerial nest predator), a weasel (a terrestrial nest predator), a snake (also terrestrial nest predator), and a Hutton’s Vireo (non-nest predator) as our control. The idea was that the birds should build a nest on the ground if an aerial predator was present, and that they would built off the ground if a terrestrial predator was present. The results showed ALL but one bird doing exactly as predicted. “WARY” built her nest on the ground right NEXT to the snake! Either WARY was a very stupid bird, or a very smart one recognizing that the snake was not real. Maybe she was a genius, thinking that this would be the safest place to built a nest as the fake snake would scare off other predators
They also had different reactions to the predators. They were much more cautious going to the nest when the aerial (Scrub Jay) predator was “watching”. They were not as cautious when the snake or weasel was out. It was also interesting that the Jay was recognized as a predator since Jays do not naturally occur on the island.
By the end of the season we had observed some very interesting behaviors that had not been seen in this species before. We found many of the males were paired up with more than one female and would go from nest to nest feeding all their babies. We also found a young male helping feed chicks in a nest that he did not “father”. Usually a rival male in another males territory is attacked or chased out, but this male was allowed to stay and help raise the territorial males chicks. We thought maybe the male was trying to “woo” the female to mate with him since he had no mate of his own. We also found out that the males were extremely aggressive with each other and would often witness violent attacks and fights between them. Even the females were seen fighting sometimes. When we took blood samples from them, we found that their testosterone levels were extremely high compared to other birds their size. We also found that year after year, the same birds occupied the same territories. Most males paired up with the same female they mated with the previous years. Occasionally a bird would go missing, and a new male or female would replace them. It was always a little depressing when we would get back to the island and not have our favorite bird(s) show up that year, knowing that they had not survived the winter.

Don't Tread on me!

Continued from "I'll pass on the Pass" (6/6/10)

On Wednesday I went out to my site to find a huge section of riparian habitat destroyed. Someone had taken a tractor or bulldozer through it for NO apparent reason. There was tractor tread everywhere. They drove right through habitat located RIGHT next to a wide open sandy trail! The area they destroyed was right smack in the middle of one of my viero territories with the male present with a fledgling. I suspected he was re-nesting right in this vicinity and was not sure if his nest had been destroyed by the tractor or not. First of all this habitat is protected, and so are the birds nesting in it. Destroying the nest of ANY wild native bird will get you a $500 fine, but destroying the nest of the Least Bell's Vireo will get you a $150,000 fine and some possible jail time since it is an endangered species. I immediately took photos of the damage, and followed the tracks to more damaged habitat and then up to the freeway area where I found an RV, tractor, van, and some sort of drill. I knocked on the door of the RV to see who was occupying it to ask about what kind of work they were doing out here and was going to try and get information from them so that I could report them to US Fish and Wildlife. No one answered the dooor, although there were 2 dogs that barked at me from inside. I was so furious at the destruction that had been done, but decided to calm down and check some nests that were also located on this site.
I headed over to a horse stable I use to access the site and immediately noticed a large bulldozer in their parking lot. I thought it was quite a coincidence. I started heading over to where my nest was...the nest should contain 4 nestlings who were 9 days old. They leave their nest at day 11 usually. As I approached I started to realize that the entire area had been bulldozed. My heart dropped as it looked like my nest may have been destroyed. I ran over and found my nest on the edge of the new trail that had been cut. Originally it was further back from the trail and I had to go through some vegetation to get to it, but now..it is seeable from the trail itself. The parents were freaking out since I am sure they had been tramatized when a giant bulldozer had come with a couple feet from their nest. They scolded me when I walked near their nest..but luckily all 4 babies were still in it. Once again, lots of native riparian trees and plants had been flattened and destroyed. I ran over to question the horse stable people. We had an agreement that they would inform me of ANY trimmings, or cutting of vegetation along their trials so that I could flag off any nest areas so that they would know NOT to cut there. This arangement had happened a couple times in the past and worked out fine. The arangement all started because 2 years ago they came literally about 2 feet from chopping one of my nests down and I had to have a discussion with the manager telling him the laws and that I could report him for what he did. He agreed to letting me know their trimming schedule so I agreed not to turn him in if it did not happen again.
I started questioning the stable people and was immediately lied to, they told me the bulldozer did not belong to them but to a construction crew next door. After talking to 4 people I got the truth...and went over to the house to talk to the managers brother who was responsible for bulldozing the habitat. He claimed that he had no clue they were suppossed to inform me first and thought they did nothing wrong. He even went so far as to tell me that the bulldozing he did was NOT for their customers and was not even part of their regular horse trail, but he cut a path (wider than a freeway lane!) so that his wife could walk their dog to the river. I was fuming by this time, and could barely keep my composure after seeing not only this destruction, but the other destruction I had just come from. I almost feel like a mother when it comes to protecting these birds..it is like my maternal instincts kick in here, because if I see anyone messing with my nests..I usually react by wanting to tear someones head off! He claimed he had not done the other damage further out but had done the damage to the area by my nest. Once again I had to document with photos, and I threatened them with fines and prison and told them to expect to be hearing from US Fish and Wildlife. I use their stable to access my site, so now I am sure I will be blacklisted from the place or if I am able to continue to use it, I will be very unpopular there. Towards the end of our conversation he started to deny that he had done any of it. I am not positive they did the other damage as I did follow tractor tracks to the RV, but I know they did the damage near my nest..so now we may have to report two separate incidents to Fish and Wildlife.
I thought the rest of my week would be mellow..but I still had a couple surprises left...

I'll pass on the Pass.

Don't get me wrong..I LOVE my job..but this past week was a test of my patience and I think I failed.
This week we participated in "assessments" where we go to different sites to look for our endangered species (The Least Bell's Vireo). We look for them across our watershed in places that we don't normally work during the rest of the season. We want to get an accurate count of ALL the birds within our watershed so we look in appropriate habitat outside our normal study sites.
My week started by doing an assessment up in the Cajon Pass. There is some very pretty habitat but we have yet to ever find a vireo there. We hope that they will one day discover this place. My coworker and I have been surveying this site for the last 4 years or so. I did one year detect a Willow Flycatcher and a California Gnatcatcher (both declining species) so the site has not been a total loss. However, we started to hear rumors that this area was not such a safe place to be in. My coworker and I survey at the same time, but we walk away from each other in different directions, so we contact each other by phone to make sure that the other of us is safe.
Apparently the safety issue comes from this area being a known pick-up spot for gay men...so being women, we are slightly safer than being a single man walking around out there. This area is also known for goldpanners, and trainspotters. I understand the prospect of finding gold to be appealing...but for the life of me cannot understand the fascination and excitment that goes with photographing and watching trains! Apparently these guys try and see as many different trains as possible and ID them by their numbers. They photograph them to prove that they saw that train. Bizarre! I guess birdwatching might sound similar to them..trying to see as many species as possible, and trying to obtain some proof of what you saw .
I have had a few odd encounters out there...mostly spotting men on the side of the road peeing. Seems they just pull over anywhere and everywhere and put on a show for whoever might be watching! Imagine if women did that!
I once had a guy almost climb into my car through my open window which I was trying to listen to birds through. He asked what I was doing and seemed a little disappointed to find I was there on official business doing my job. He kept leaning in my window and at one point offered to accompany me down in the canyon to look for birds! At this point I was tempted to roll up my window and choke him with it. I declined his offer and got out of there.
Another time a guy seeing my business magnets on my car (and assuming I was some sort of official) approached my window and asked me if he was safe being in this area. The guy looked like HE was the one people should be scared of...lots of tattoos and scars and just something a little creepy about him. I told him that this was a known pick up spot for guys and he went on to tell me that it was too bad he could not carry his gun anymore ever since he got out of prison! He thanked me and told me that he was not going to hang out there anymore. Cajon was just the start of my week, and it got progressively worse.

To be continued....stay tuned for my next post.

Rarities Not Rare To Me

Slightly edited from an article as first published in the Phainopepla in November of 2002

This spring I worked as an intern with the Point Reyes Bird Observatory. Our study took place at the Cosumnes River Preserve, located 30 minutes south of Sacramento. The Cosumnes River is unusual in that it is the only undammed river west of the Sierra Nevada. The season not only consisted of an unusual river, but some very unusual birds as well.
My dwelling for the season was in a shack....a literal shack located on the preserve with only a small living room area, a set of bunk beds and a kitchen sink. Our bathroom was a port-a-potty located in our "yard" and our shower was a 3-walled stall out in our yard as well. The shower had no door, so if a farmer happened to drive by while you occupied it, he would get a nice surprise. We eventually bought a large piece of plastic to slide in place to act as a shower door, but this did not help to keep out the many frogs, black widows, and various other insects that liked to share our shower with us. We had the occassional snake come into the shower stall as well, most likely looking for frogs to eat. I usually poked them with my finger to scare them away. The frogs got to stay as they supplied a very musical shower since all of them would start to croak as they got wet.
We had other guests as well, the occassional rat could be seen on our porch leaping into our trash can. Once again, literally leaping from our porch railing, all four legs extended out, looking more like a flying squirrel than a rat, and landing right in our trash. I once came home to hear scratching coming from inside our laundry detergent box which was also stored on our porch, and feared I would open it up to find a rat leaping out at me. It ended up being a Tree Swallow that thought the box was a cavity for nesting. Another morning I put my rubber boots on only to feel something squishy inside them. It ended up being a frog that I had to pull out, rinse off with water and release.
The project consisted of nest searching and monitoring of several species: Song Sparrows, Common Yellowthroats, Wrentit, Spotted Towhee, Black-headed Grosbeak, Western Wood-Pewee, and Black-chinned Hummingbird to name a few. We found a number of cavity nests as well for species such as the House Wren, Tree Swallow, and Downy Woodpecker. We also performed point counts and ran a MAPS mist netting/banding station. We color banded Song Sparrows to distinguish one territorial male from the next. These bands will be used to find birds again next year so that their movements can be monitored.
The two sites or "plots" that I nest searched were a mature Valley Oak riparian forest and a much younger Fremont Cottonwood/Sandbar Willow "forest". Besides these forested areas, much of the preserve consists of organic rice fields. By the time the land was sold and protected there was not much left that was not being used for crops. However, the preserve requires that a majority of the fallow fields are flooded to act as a refuge for waterfowl and a feeding area for shorebirds. We saw a variety of birds in these fields, including Wilson's and Red-necked Phalaropes, American Avocet, Black-necked Stilt, Long-billed Dowitcher, Greater Yellowlegs, Least and Western Sandpipers, Cinnamon Teal, White-faced Ibis, Great Egret, Caspian Tern, and a rare sighting of a pair of Black Terns, not usually seen on the preserve during the time period we spotted them.
Another rare finding revealed itself when I took over the monitoring of a nest found by one of my co-workers on my plot. He told me it was an Anna's Hummingbird nest. My supervisor told me it was more likely to be a Black-chinned, as the Anna's are not typical nesters there. So, I set out to ID the bird, but because the nest was located rather high up in an Oregon Ash, backlit, and the bird was incubating, I could only see her head sticking out of the nest. I tried to make it into a Black-chinned, but the neck was not skinny enough, and I could not quite make it into an Anna's either. It was not until sometime later that I was able to get a good look at the bird, when the chicks had hatched and I observed her going to the nest to feed. At this time I was able to ID the bird as neither a Black-chinned nor an Anna's, but in fact a Selasphours species. I told my supervisor about the findings, but she was a little skeptical as Selasphorus hummingbirds do not nest there. We then informed John Trochet, a local bird guru, about the nest. He came down equipped with not only binoculars, but a scope, camera, and a hummingbird feeder as well. He verified that it was in fact a Selasphorus species. After contacting several people who are responsible for monitoring such bird data, it was determined to be an Allen's Hummingbird, the first record EVER for this species nesting in the Central Valley. The nest was successful, and two young were fledged. I saw the female a couple of times after the "kids" were gone, but she moved on and was not seen again. I got to write up my findings and it was published in The Central Valley Bird Club Bulletin.
Another of my co-workers found a Lesser Goldfinch pair nesting on her plot. Although there were past records for them nesting in the Central Valley, there were none of them ever having nested on the preserve itself. Our "sister" project, located further south, on the San Joaquin National Wildlife Refuge, turned up a nesting pair of Yellow Warblers. This was the first record of them nesting in that area in approximately 40 years. We also had verification from John Trochet that Dark-eyed Juncos were nesting on the Cosumnes for the third year in a row, and suspicions that a pair of Swainson's Thrush were nesting on the preserve as well, but could not prove it. If he had, that also would have been a great find as the last record for them nesting on the preserve dates back to the 1870s. One last surprise was the appearance of a male Indigo Bunting towards the end of the season. This was the first sighting on the preserve since 1998.
Besides all these rare finds, the rest of the season was a success as well, with our nest count totaling more than 300 and 135 species seen on the preserve.

May the Force Be With Me

This is written as first published in the Phainopepla in November 2001:

I spent my Spring working on a nest monitoring project for Dartmouth College. I was one of two field technicians and three interns. We studied two ground-nesting species: Spotted Towhee and Rufous-crowned Sparrow, and two shrub nesters: Wrentits, and California Towhee. Of the sixteen sites studied, some where "interior plots" where no urbanization was present, other plots had urban development on one or more edges. The purpose of the study was to determine the effect of urbanization and fragmentation on nesting survival.

Of the ground nesters, the Rufous-crowned Sparrows were the hardest to locate. The were extremely secretive. If we were lucky enough to spot a female with nest material, she would apparently spot us first, vanish and not return for up to two hours. When going to a completed nest, they tend to run on the ground rather than fly directly to it. While incubating, they sit tight on the nest, not flushing until the nest is literally almost stepped on. The Spotted Towhees are just a bit easier to find. When a female is seen building, she continues to build actively. Once incubating, however, she generally stays on the nest for two to three hours. At this point, the male would "escort" her around to feed and then back to the nest.

Of the scrub nesters, California Towhees are by far the easiest and most abundant nests to be found. Although we rarely witnessed a female building, their nests seemed to magically materialize. We joked that some other bird must be building their nests for them. I seem to have formed some sort of psychic link with the Cal Towhees as I began finding their nests whether I was looking for them or not. The male would choose a lookout perch, and once I found it, I could easily walk right up to the nest, as it was always nearby. My crew was convinced I was using "the force" to find nests. I convinced them that my powers were not from the dark side. The Wrentits were similar to the Spotted Towhees in that they built right out in the open. I felt that if I had offered nest material in an outstretched hand, they would have gladly taken it. They were different from the other species in that both sexes shared the nest building task. I also learned that they mated for life, and often saw them affectionately grooming one another.

The nests themselves were quite amazing to look at, each one like an intricate work of art. They were made of a variety of vegetation and various other materials. Most were found in some sort of sage, but many were built in other plants such as monkey flower, viguiera, buckwheat, and one pair built in a patch of thistle. The nests were constructed with grasses, bark strips, leaves, flowers and the like, and sometimes man-made objects. The Wrentits found spider webs essential to their nest building. I found it quite interesting that two of my Wrentit nests on the same plot contained white ribbon intertwined through them. The source of the ribbon was from many balloons on the plot that had the ribbon tied to them as a "handle". I saw several blue and purple ribbons about the area and thought it odd that both birds chose only white for their nests. One plot, nicknamed "the dump", was the final resting place for discarded couches, stoves and the like. The local birds seemed to take it in stride, though. A California Towhee nest incorporated a cotton swab in it's nest wall. In another instance I observed Bushtits picking stuffing from a dead couch for their nest. The most exotic nest I found was built by a Cal Towhee. Each time I checked it, it was larger and more elaborate, even after the female began incubating. She added feathers and so many foxtails that they stuck out at every angle, making the nest look like some outlandish hat. She finally added a stick with dead leaves that she stood up in the rim of the nest, so it resembled a mast and sail. I dubbed it "the boat nest". It was eventually depredated, probably due to its size and flamboyance.

Checking the nests brought more surprises. We found many of the birds to be quite stubborn about leaving the nest so we could count eggs and chicks. The Wrentits held out the longest; we had to resort to flicking their tails to get them off the nest. Some still didn't budge, and a few even decided to peck at our fingers. I realized just what dedicated parents they were when I found one of their nests had tipped over on its side. The parents had made a bad building choice; the vegetation was not strong enough to support the weight once the chicks had hatched. When I found the nest in this condition, I assumed it was empty. Peering over the side, I was quite startled to see a little head poking out sideways from the nest. Apparently one chick remained, and the parent had sort of wedged itself into the nest and was adamantly brooding despite the nest's imminent collapse.

Most of the nests we monitored belonged to our target species although we monitored any nest we found. Other species included the Californina Thrasher, Western Scrub Jay, Northern Mockingbird, Bushtit, Bewick's Wren, Anna's Hummingbird, and one migrant, the Lazuli Bunting. By the end of the season we had found a total of some 300 nests, as well as a great respect for the little birds that built them.

Yankee With a Cause

It was the summer of 2000 that I took a job as a field assistant studying the Henslow’s Sparrow in Tenneessee. I would live in a small unincorporated town called Bumpus Mills, located about 30 miles east of the much larger town of Clarksville. Our field house was located on Dirt Road. Not only was the name of the street Dirt Road, but it was indeed a literal dirt road. Our study would take place on the Fort Campbell Military Installation.
Bumpus Mills was a small town consisting of a bar, a church, a small corner market, and a post office. We noticed the bar had the same five cars parked in the lot each day. We visited the bar a couple times to find the same five people sitting in the same five stools. We found that they knew who we were before we ever set foot in the place. News of our arrival in town preceded us. I found out just how small this town was when I went to the post office to pick up a care package from my mom, only to have the attendant hand me my package before ever asking for it or identifying myself. She had an unfamiliar name on a package and an unfamiliar face standing before her, so she put two and two together.
I learned a few things about the town in the next three months. I found that most of the people there were still obsessed with the Civil War, and proudly flew a rebel flag on their porch. I found when people asked me where I was from and found out I was from California and to top it off, from the Los Angeles area, I was immediately deemed “a yankee”. I also learned that you could not purchase an alcoholic beverage stronger than a beer unless you drove to a proper liquor store some 30 miles away, or that you could not purchase alcohol period on a Sunday.
Work became a very interesting experience, especially when I stupidly volunteered to do about 100 point counts. Point counts are when you are given a predetermined location (or point) that you must find and stand in for a predetermined time (usually 5-10 minutes) and note every bird you see or hear during that time. I was given a huge binder with maps of the points and a compass to find my way.
I had never worked on a military base so was not used to having to get approval each day to be in certain areas due to bombings and exercises taking place. There were several times when we were told an area was safe only to get a call later that day telling us to get out as soon as possible. Once a coworker and I were looking for nests when we saw a van labeled “Bomb Squad” drive in. They gave us a wave so we assumed everything was okay. About 15 minutes later, an explosion so strong , that we were very nearly knocked off our feet, went off. We got out of there as quickly as possible. On the way out we noticed a red flag waving at the entrance to the site. A red flag is a warning not to enter.
I started my point counts early in the morning. I traveled alone and had to be to my first point before sunrise and there was a limited amount of time at which the surveys could be done. Sunrise to 10am was what the protocol called for. I planned to do 8-10 per morning, but my plans would often change due to areas being closed for bombings, etc. I would tell my crew where I would be when I left each morning, but did not always end up there. I had a walkie talkie as my only form of communication (with the biologists who worked on base). Cell phones were not widely available back then and could not pick up a signal on base.
I was making very good time for the first few days, and even managed to help some lost soldiers from time to time that I would run into out in the wilds of the base. I was well equipped with maps and a compass so was able to direct them to where they were going. Many were surprised to see that not only was I not a fellow soldier riding around on an army base, but that I was a lone woman. One guy even broke out in laughter when he saw me! I also often found myself in the middle of war games. I once was doing my bird count when suddenly I noticed soldiers silhouetted against the forest holding M16s and silently moving through the trees. Some had vegetation sticking out of their helmets and clothing as camoflage. I was not quite sure what to do as I did not want to be mistaken for a soldier and be ambushed, or whatever it is they do, so I stood silently and finished my bird count than quietly found my way back to my truck. Another time two soldiers came running past me on the road I was walking down, being chased by a large tank. They yelled “civilian” into their radios as they passed me to let the tank know I was there. The tank apparently did not care because as it caught up to me and the soldiers, they aimed their gun at us and started shooting. They were blanks of course..but it was still loud and very scary!
Eventually I started to run into some problems. The roads I had to drive were actually not roads at all, but rather fire breaks and they were often flooded, treacherous, or had fallen trees blocking them. This was my first experience driving a 4WD vehicle and I had not mastered it yet so found myself getting my car stuck a couple times. I had to be rescued by the base biologists a couple times. They made fun of me, but I got payback when they once called me for rescue when they got stuck with a flat and had not bothered to bring a spare tire. Once I had to hitch a ride with a army truck full of soldiers when my truck (after parking it) slid off the road down into a ditch. I seriously thought I was being set up by some prank T.V. show, but it was just my own dumb luck. These experience were not as eventful as the last time I got stuck.
I headed out on a Saturday morning with a plan that I was quickly not able to follow. At about 9am I got stuck on a flooded road in thick mud. I tried my radio but got no answer from the biologist. I figured they were out of the office momentarily and I would try back shortly. At 9:30, I tried again but had no success. I sat there for quite a while without anyone answering my calls for help. I sat fro another hour or so and started to take stock of my situation. I could hike out, but had very little water and only an apple left of the “lunch” I had packed. The temperature was about 90 degrees by now with about 100% humidity. The closest area where there might be some soldiers was about 4-5 miles away. If there were no soldiers there, I could hike an additional 2 miles to a main highway where I could flag someone down for help. With the amount of water I had, I decided it would be dangerous for me to leave the shade and shelter of my truck. At about 11am, the time I was due to be back to the office with my truck, the biologist finally radioed me to ask where I was. I was relieved and told him I was stuck. He continued to call out my name and ask my location. I suddenly realized he was not able to hear me. I tried to talk to him over and over again but to no avail. My radio was malfunctioning and I had no form of communication. By noon, I heard both base biologists talking back and forth becoming concerned about my whereabouts.
Just about his time, I heard a vehicle engine on a nearby road. I could not tell exactly which direction it was coming from as I was surrounded by forest which muffled the sound. I started honking my horn. I honked out what I believed to be an S.O.S Soon, an unmarked truck pulled up behind me. I expected an army truck or some other marked vehicle. I started to worry about exactly who I had summoned for help as there should not have been any unmarked cars on base. I quickly grabbed my radio to pretend I had some form of communication with the outside world.
Two men got out of the truck. One was a huge man wearing overalls with muscles bulging out of them. I noticed he had a lot of missing teeth. The second guy looked like Jerry Garcia’s twin, and was covered in tatoos. They completely covered both arms and even peeked out from under his shirt going up his neck and stopping at his chin. At that moment I had visions of my dead naked body being buried in the woods never to be seen again. The guy in the overalls asked me what I was doing out there. I told him I was doing a bird survey, and he asked me where Andrew was. I was immediately flooded with relief as Andrew was the name of the biologist on base. I told him no one was answering my radio calls, but did not let on that my radio was broken as I still did not know who these guys were and still was not comfortable letting them know I was helpless out there. “Overall guy” proceeded to get a chain out of his truck to try and pull my truck out. All the while, “Jerry Garcia guy” had not spoken a word but just stared at me. He finally spoke and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a question; “Are you a Deadhead?” I thought maybe I had indeed stumbled upon Jerry’s twin! I answered a simple “No” as I thought what a strange question that was. He then asked me how my water supply was and if I was thirsty. I told him that I was in need of water and he proceeded to walk to the back of their truck to lift out a huge water cooler from the back. He carried it over to me and lifted it above my head and pushed the button to let the water flow out. I realized he expected me to bend down and catch the water in mid air with my mouth before it hit the ground. I did and thought again what a strange experience this was. I also asked if I could fill up my water bottle as well.
After several tries and almost getting their own truck stuck , they managed to pull me out. I thanked them and asked their name. They told me to tell Andrew that “Billy Bob” and “John Boy” had helped get me out. Before they left me, they asked me if I had heard any gunfire in the area, and I told them I had not.
I arrive back at the biologist’s office around 1pm, two hours late. I told the biologists all about my ordeal and about the strange guys who came to my rescue. They informed me that these guys were the local US Fish and Game wardens that worked on base and that their names were NOT Billy Bob and John Boy, and that those names were the names of a couple of disc jockeys on a local radio station. They also told me that they should not have been in the area they found me and that they must have been goofing off and that is why they asked me about gunfire, they were pretending to have some excuse for being out there. I was SO thankful that they were goofing off, or I may have never found my way back to the office and safety.
I continued to do my point counts and finally finished all 100 points. I was then asked if I would like to do 100 more on the base located on the Kentucky side of the border. I kindly refused! I had had enough . I was able to use my point count experience on my resume to gain other jobs in the future. I have used my other experiences there to tell interesting and scary stories.