Ecological Tracking
April 25th, 2008 michaelHere we are tracking in North Bend:
Last week I focused on how far we’ve come, how much we’ve learned since autumn. This week was a lesson in how much more there is to learn.
Wednesday was, we were told, our last day of the program devoted solely to tracking under the guidance of visiting instructor Dave Moskowitz. That morning we drove out to a new site for us, a beautiful riparian wilderness area out in North Bend. Towering Bigleaf Maples stood among second growth understory along the middle fork of the Snoqualmie river. There we split up into clans and spent a good deal of time exploring the landscape, traipsing through wet woods searching for animal trails. Meanwhile, Dave and our other instructors were seeking out mysteries and setting up a quiz for us. That afternoon was spent walking from one mystery to the next, writing down answers to the questions posed to us. “What animal did this and why?” “Who’s tracks are these and what gait is shown here?” “What happened here and when?”
At first I was frustrated by how little I could answer confidently. I felt like I’d learned nothing. But I soon realized that it was only because I’ve learned so much that I was so baffled by many of the mysteries. I’ve learned enough not to make assumptions. I’ve learned how many different animals might make scrapes on a tree, leave similar looking tracks, or lay eggs in the water. Whereas at the beginning of the year I may have had more answers, they wouldn’t necessarily have been the correct ones nor had much to back them up. At this time I may not have correctly identified the species of salamander eggs in the stream, but I knew enough to recognize that they could have been frog or salamander eggs. I may not have known for sure that the tree scrape was from a deer shedding antler velvet, but I could name a variety of animals that might have clawed, gnawed, or rubbed at this height on a sapling. I was unable to recognize that the funny looking indentations in the sand were in fact beaver tracks, but I could name a whole list of animals they didn’t belong to and why.
This is the period of time in learning a new skill when our brains are swimming with information that we can’t always access at the right times, but that’s not important. What is important is that we’re inspired and challenged to keep learning. That’s exactly why tracking is so exciting- there will always be more mysteries to keep us on our toes.
Looking back on last week I realize how far we’ve come, how much we’ve learned already. Sure, we all had varying levels of knowledge going into this program, but our activities this week really made clear that we all have learned so much. Our “bird sit” this week was perhaps the clearest example of this. After our first bird sit in the fall, we came together in an attempt to describe and map what we’d heard. There were only a few species mentioned by name at that time, and a whole lot of mediocre descriptions of the bird songs and calls we didn’t recognize. “I think I remember was some sort of high pitched fast little song”…
This past Wednesday, a cool clear Spring morning bursting with birdsong, we returned from our bird sit with long lists of not only a variety of different named species, but knowledge of the types of calls vs. songs and general feeling of the forest. “I heard a Winter Wren singing from the Salmonberry shrub in front of me while the whole forest seemed to be calm and at baseline. Fifteen minutes later, the same Wren gave some urgent alarm calls but no surrounding birds seemed to have been alarmed, indicating that there probably was not a general threat like a predator in the area.”
We are by no means experts in bird language at this point; true experts spend years listening and observing. We do, however, have a strong foundation of core routines to help get us there, if we so choose.
Guest instructor Dave Moskowitz tells us about wild cat behaviors:
Dave tells us about bear behavior:
This week was another varied week where each day brought us completely different lessons and adventures. Wednesday was a sign tracking day spent out in a nearby forest. The sun shone warm on us for a change, making us giggle and scamper like children and bask like cats. Several mammals made this a successful tracking day by leaving us plentiful tracks and sign, including Aplodontia (Mountain Beaver) chews on vine maples, a fresh Black Bear scrape among many old scrapes on cedar trees, fresh bear scat, and beautiful clear bear, bobcat, and raccoon tracks in the unmelted snow.
Thursday was spent back on school land focusing on communication and self-expression. We explored new animal forms, shared thoughts, ideas, and poetry, and worked on group processing. It was the type of day that will help our large group continue to function as smoothly as it does now- with openness, respect, and compassion not often found among such different people.
Friday was an edible plant day where we were presented some information and thoughts about nutrition in general, and got to experience first-hand an extremely nutritious common local plant, Stinging Nettle. This time of year nettles are popping up all over the place, and are the perfect healthful, detoxifying addition to the spring diet. We collected nettles from the land, drank nettle tea, made and ate nettle soup, and learned about and tasted nettle infusion. A few stinging fingers aside, we all felt fully nourished by the end of that day. This week in general was very nourishing, in body, mind, and spirit.
I am sitting at my desk looking outside at a white winter wonderland, thinking back on our first week of spring quarter. Despite the cold white stuff draping everything out there including the pair of yearling deer grazing unaffectedly, Spring has definitely arrived. The robins are back, chattering away, the winter wrens are singing their little hearts out, the Indian plums are leafed out, the salmonberry are flowering and those deer out there are munching on fresh nettle and chickweed.
This week too was filled with the levity of returning home and the exciting freshness of new growth, despite our familiar cold wet surroundings. We formed new clans and made new alliances among now familiar faces. We stepped up the challenge of primitive fire- making by spending a day creating fire kits from the land with no added materials and without the use of tools. We practiced animal forms, learned new ones, and honed and tested our awareness. It is Spring, we are back together and we are awake!
This week was our final week of winter quarter. Is there really just one quarter to go? It was definitely strange to see “graduation” printed on our new syllabus. In just three short months we will all be moving on to new adventures. But not yet.
Our final day before spring break was both quiet and reflective and playful and exciting, both equally important aspects of our program overall. The reflective part of the day involved sharing stories and insights from the season with visiting elders around our familiar Malalo fire. Common themes discussed were challenges faced, passions discovered, and personal growth. The residential program just seems to be full of those life altering milestones, even after 6 months.
The playful part of the day was a giant game of capture the flag, which although could be simply dubbed a childish game, is actually a nice test of a variety of our skills and core routines including sensory awareness, scouting, animal forms, and owl eyes. Our version of the game started with each team making primitive fire in the soggy woods, so we were able to hone those skills as well. I remember crouching on the wet earth among some sword ferns and oregon grape, heart beating with the excitement of hiding and trying not to be seen, watching fellow classmates pop up out of shrubs and from behind trees throughout the forest, and thinking there is nowhere else I’d rather be right now. I can’t wait for spring quarter to start!
Creating containers to boil water in:
Chris shows us a different method of cooking:
Here we pull our baked goods out of a clay oven:
This week we really got down to some primitive skills, the nitty gritty of wilderness survival. Out in a riverside cedar grove we became a primitive village united by our central fire. We used coals from the fire to burn out logs to use as bowls, then used rocks heated in the fire to boil and thus purify river water for drinking. We also experimented with several primitive cooking methods including building stone and clay ovens from scratch, using a steam pit, boiling food in rock-heated water, and cooking over open flames. These days involved some good hard work as well as quality time spent as a tribe by the roaring fire. The water and food we took in may have been a little dirty, sooty, under or overcooked, but the time, effort and laughter that went into it made it all worth it.
