Flight of the condors
May. 1st, 2006 03:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wombat1138The wombat-consort and I went hiking at Pinnacles National Monument over the weekend-- several hours tromping around, through, and over various extremely nifty rock formations reminiscent of Peter Jackson's LOTR scenery.
It was a very sunny day; since I hadn't brought a real hat or even a bandanna, I had to improvise a Pythonesque Gumby hat by tying knots in the corners of my pocket handkerchief. (Try *that* with Kleenex. On second thought, don't.) Luckily, it was a clean fresh handkerchief and looked slightly less Gumbyish by virtue of being tie-dyed. Also, the wombat-consort had a tube of sunblock in his backpack, which is good; I'm still trying to figure out whether my ears might've gotten a little toasted anyway. Oddly, while he reports various muscular aches as aftermath, I feel pretty much fine except that the bottoms of my feet are still a bit pulpy. Then again, maybe they're just blotting out anything else.
Anyway, scenery. Some of the caves were temporarily off-limits because of bat-nesting season; the accessible ones are still really neat, though-- there are streams and waterfalls and such rushing right through them, with some lengthy stretches dark enough to need flashlights (we made do with the little LED thingy on my keychain) and narrow twisty stairs that seemed made for walking smack into giant spiders. There were a number of people scattered around the park attempting DIY spiderdom at various locations thoughtfully pointed out with carabiner signposts to warn innocent bystanders of the risk of rockclimbers falling onto their heads. Up around the peaks, there were even more twisty little stairs, some of them cut nearly vertically into the rock with individual alternating steps to place each foot while hauling yourself up the handrail. (Hiking poles were very very useful here. Also, water. Lots of water. Ideally not from the caves or the reservoir-- dunno whether they have giardia, but I wouldn't try it without iodine tablets or a micropore filter-- but there is a water fountain down by the main visitor center for filling empty containers beforehand.)
While we were either still noodling around the top (~1600' elevation from the trailhead?) or just starting on the way down, we saw some birds circling overhead. Big birds. Big HUGE birds with bright red heads. California condors.
I remember the almost casual assumption that they were about to go extinct. They're still not out of danger, but at least now they're flying free instead of all of them being anxiously cosseted in captivity. I'm not a birder, but it's still very cool to've seen them in person, even though at the time, I remarked in mock-annoyance at their general direction, "Stop circling us; we're not dead yet."
I wonder if the cats would attempt to take one on. Bwah.
It was a very sunny day; since I hadn't brought a real hat or even a bandanna, I had to improvise a Pythonesque Gumby hat by tying knots in the corners of my pocket handkerchief. (Try *that* with Kleenex. On second thought, don't.) Luckily, it was a clean fresh handkerchief and looked slightly less Gumbyish by virtue of being tie-dyed. Also, the wombat-consort had a tube of sunblock in his backpack, which is good; I'm still trying to figure out whether my ears might've gotten a little toasted anyway. Oddly, while he reports various muscular aches as aftermath, I feel pretty much fine except that the bottoms of my feet are still a bit pulpy. Then again, maybe they're just blotting out anything else.
Anyway, scenery. Some of the caves were temporarily off-limits because of bat-nesting season; the accessible ones are still really neat, though-- there are streams and waterfalls and such rushing right through them, with some lengthy stretches dark enough to need flashlights (we made do with the little LED thingy on my keychain) and narrow twisty stairs that seemed made for walking smack into giant spiders. There were a number of people scattered around the park attempting DIY spiderdom at various locations thoughtfully pointed out with carabiner signposts to warn innocent bystanders of the risk of rockclimbers falling onto their heads. Up around the peaks, there were even more twisty little stairs, some of them cut nearly vertically into the rock with individual alternating steps to place each foot while hauling yourself up the handrail. (Hiking poles were very very useful here. Also, water. Lots of water. Ideally not from the caves or the reservoir-- dunno whether they have giardia, but I wouldn't try it without iodine tablets or a micropore filter-- but there is a water fountain down by the main visitor center for filling empty containers beforehand.)
While we were either still noodling around the top (~1600' elevation from the trailhead?) or just starting on the way down, we saw some birds circling overhead. Big birds. Big HUGE birds with bright red heads. California condors.
I remember the almost casual assumption that they were about to go extinct. They're still not out of danger, but at least now they're flying free instead of all of them being anxiously cosseted in captivity. I'm not a birder, but it's still very cool to've seen them in person, even though at the time, I remarked in mock-annoyance at their general direction, "Stop circling us; we're not dead yet."
I wonder if the cats would attempt to take one on. Bwah.