During the week: disappearing into the landscape

Field work wrapped up at the Lake this week. We were scheduled for more time out there, but we are rockstar field warriors and powered through all the surveys real quick-like. TomM and I won for most time spent at the Lake. We should get stars or gold plated walkies or something. Lessons learned and reflections? Sure. See here:

• Despite the rattlesnake population being "5x" higher than ever this year, I did not see a single rattle snake. I spent the first three days out there moving the speed of molasses, and tapping every rock before approaching. By the end, I was plowing through fields, still aware, still observant, but much more confident. I also had on snake gators that covered the lower half of my legs. Man. Do those things make you sweat.
• Physicality. This was the hardest field work I have ever done, and because I wanted to do my share (I was usually the only girl; Amy spent a week too), I pushed myself beyond my usual comfort zone. The resultant discovery was that I am capable of way more than I ever thought I was. That is so rad.
• It's a weird day at work when you have these two thoughts:

"If I fall, I hope I don't hit my head and lose consciousness before hitting the lake."

"Wow, it's a good thing I have been rock climbing. Otherwise, I would have totally fallen off that cliff."

• Being the only girl surrounded by super dudely dudes is very educational and entertaining. I learned about hygiene dogma, the ability to tune out voices at a certain pitch, chewing tobacco, and the refreshing nature of Coors Light on tap.
• I am completely comfortable in pine forests. They feel like home. Oak woodlands make me nervous.
• Circling Ospreys giving warning calls are no joke. Back away.
• Coyote pups are possibly the cutest things EVER.
• Carp are dumb and lazy fish. They will fight for bread you throw in the water. They will not eat tobacco chew (Aaron tested this theory).
• I am convinced Lake Marina makes boaters sign a contract agreeing only to play Kid Rock, Pussycat Dolls, or Nickleback on all boats on the lake. Associated hooting and hollering must also occur when wake boarders and/or skiers attain the standing position. In addition, if boaters see biologists sweating on steep hillsides or hanging on cliffs, they must swing as close as possible for mocking purposes and to incite jealousy in those clipboard carriers.
• Old Navy flip flops float. Old Navy flip flops on a lake will all congregate in one area, searching for their mate, which is probably in a boat somewhere or in a tree. It's the truest dating pool! (zing!)

For my job, I do a lot of field work. Most the sites are small, single day visits, and they tend to meld into a blended hodgepodge memory. The time I spent at the Lake will always stand out -- we spent weeks out there, and our project team was rad. The trip also had amazing contrasts: I was surrounded by my team most the time (talking, laughing, driving, boating, discussing, debating, listening to Metallica really loud), but then there were stark periods of isolation, where I would be up on a hillside with no one in earshot, no boats coming around, and none of that ambient noise that happens in the city. I would stop, and sit on a rock for a moment and drink it in; sweaty and dirty and listening.

During the week: way up

Today, we climbed a big hill. I was very happy to reach the top. Also? I love my handkerchief. It's the best piece of field equipment ever. That said, I also love my walking stick and am considering carrying it around all the time. Even in San Francisco.

blurry but still

During the week: wild and scenic

Week three for me out at the Lake. While the field days are still tough as all get out, I can't ignore how beautiful the lake and surrounding areas are. The morning boat ride is best: glass-smooth lake, no wind, and few boaters.

We headed up the main river than flows into the Lake yesterday. Three months ago, this river was literally a trickle -- maybe fifteen feet wide at most. With the snow melt, the river is a beast, and we have to watch for the rocks that would form rapids at lower water levels (see Nate in the above photo, searching). Now, they'll just ruin our propeller.

The river is wild and scenic, meaning that the river is preserved in its free-flowing condition and no one can divert, realign, or put in a Starbucks. The view was incredible. I suggested we survey the rest of the river starting upstream, and canoe or inner-tube on down. Crew? Enthused. Not sure the client would be.

Speaking of the view, where I am standing in the above photo is where the previous photo was taken. My teammate, Tom, said he had to take my photo because "when you're like 80 you have to show your grandkids what you used to do." You may not be able to tell from afar, but I am covered in streaks of soot in this photo. We had to hike through burned out chemise chaparral to progress along the hillside. It was not fun. We both got dirty and grumpy although the view and a nice breeze helped a bit.

This week, I have two more days out here, and then four next week. So. Ten days down, six to go. Woot.

Red White and Birthday

My sister's birthday falls on June 14th, which also happens to be the amazing occasion of Flag Day. So, we celebrate both. YAY. The Central Valley was incredibly hot last weekend, and during my sister's bday bbq, the kids all had water guns, sponges, a plastic pool, and water balloons. There was a strict "don't hit the adults with water balloons" rule in place, and the children abided almost perfectly. They filled water balloon after water balloon and sprayed each other with the hose -- they looked like they were having a blast and the scene filled the adults with nostalgia even though we didn't want to directly participate.

Once people left, Brian and I began cleaning the yard up, tossing cups, collecting the sticky assortment of bubble blowing paraphernalia, and deciding that no, these kazoos cannot be saved. And then I found it. A tub of water FILLED with balloons-- these kids must have been preparing for a war that never happened (thwarted by sunburns and tumbling class)!!!

So, of course I began pelting Brian with water balloon after water balloon, and of course he totally rushed me and before he could grab balloons too, of course I started running and screaming at the top of my lungs, "I'm in a white dress! I'm in a white dress!"

Did he listen? Of course not. Just as I was about to make the safety of the indoors, THWAP! A water balloon exploded in the middle of my back. I was in the doorway and spray went into the living room. I suppose from the view on the couch, it was pretty epic: hollers of bloody murder, me throwing open the door, and, backlit by the sun, an explosion of water at my back.

Bombs bursting in air! Happy Flag Day!

Goin' for a walk: Amoeba/Inner Sunset

A mini band of horses outside Kezar Stadium.

Line outside Amoeba

Other Band Of Horses playing to a jam packed, free show at noon at Amoeba on Haight.

The Inner Sunset sidewalks have been getting a facelift in recent months, including small planters and gardens. It's pretty darn charming.

See? Wider corners!

Weird little shop on ninth with skulls and figurines and allll sorts of creepy stuff. I still haven't figured out what they actually sell or how the store pays rent; the place is a hodgepodge of clutter. Kinda awesome, kinda odd, definitely overwhelming.

During the week: be vigilant!

This morning, as our boat slowly puttered to our survey site, I wondered what would happen if I just casually rolled out of the boat. Would they stop? Could I just spend the day floating on my back, center lake, until the putter boat headed back to the Marina? Sun out, heat out, floating sounded lovely. The boat puttered on. The moment passed.

The sides of the lake are incredibly steep and are often shale. Slip, slide, today I slid about seven feet, but it felt like 20. The scenery is beautiful; everyone might be too tired to notice. Amy saw two rattlers today, one looking poised to strike. Thankfully, it lost interest and darted down the hill.

I know I sound full of complaints. The area we are in is beautiful, but right now, and for the rest of the week, I would rather observe it from a boat. With a wide-brimmed hat. And my swim suit. And a fishing pole.

See my coworker Nate? This is what we are working with, plus 300 feet interior. Survey says.

Sometimes, you hike and hike and hike to find a wall of chemise blocking you. Hmph.

And other times you find what we fondly refer to as 'toyon prison.' Our team carries walkies, and occasionally you'll hear the desperate cry. Toyon Prison! I'm in Toyon Prison! Best way out? Invariably through the poison oak.

Here's your plant for the day: Clarkia unguiculata, elegant clarkia. Not rare, but pretty.