Yesterday I attended the Utah Bat Conservation Cooperative meeting near Provo, UT. While I was there, it was fascinating to see how a group of public and private organizations worked together to describe issues with bat conservation, present on their current research and surveys, and outline a plan for continued management. During the long drive to the conference, my mentor told me about her passion for working for the BLM, her belief in multiple-use of landscapes, and her understanding that things aren’t always black and white—wildlife can be just as damaging as a herd of cattle.

At the end of my internship, these are only some of the things that I’ve come to recognize while working for this federal agency. Managing the public lands in the western states is an enormous job, and the people who are a part of that effort make up a vast network of beliefs, perhaps not always as passionate as my mentor’s or even aligned with her own. Somehow, this complex assembly of beliefs becomes manifested in individual projects, carried out in the field by people like me, and fits together into an increasingly more coherent picture as we look from project, to field office, to district, state, and eventually the nation. The fact that work conducted on the ground can bridge the gap to the seemingly distant and detached goals of the BLM as a whole is unbelievable. More than that, it is incredible that I have been a part of this system and that I’ve met some of the admirable people who, even at our lonely outpost in this small piece of the big picture, believe wholly in their significance in the grand scheme.

This opportunity has opened my eyes to the significance of land conservation efforts. I was given the chance to explore places that are completely foreign to me, see new wildlife, and assist in a variety of projects that gave me a wealth of unforgettable experiences. At times this seemed like a job that was too enjoyable to accomplish anything meaningful. At other times I would zoom out on a map to see how small my field office was in comparison to the entirety of the western states and the task of protecting all of this land seemed daunting. Admittedly, government work can appear sluggish, held back by its demand for extensive procedure, systematics, and red tape. But what I’ve learned is that it is sustained by individuals on the ground, scattered over the vastness of these public lands, who care deeply for the public land and its perpetuity. This is a comforting thought, and I cannot express my full appreciation for getting a chance to take part in the effort.

Admiring a willow exclosure along a stream

Providing fantastic educational activities for children is what we do!

Having a project to call one’s own is the most important part of an experience such as this Conservation and Land Management Internship. Courtney, my fellow CLM intern, and I were given the task of presenting to our field office on artificial water sources and wildlife escape structures. Artificial water sources are man-made troughs, reservoirs, guzzlers, etc. that have been introduced to arid environments to offset anthropogenic losses of natural waters. Wildlife escape structures allow animals to deal with poor water source designs. Bird ladders are common now due to the difficulty birds face in escaping from a water trough after falling in.

After reading up on the basic premise behind the water sources and escape structures, we made a list of features that we would take a note of as we started hunting down water sources within our field office boundaries (e.g. height of the sidewalls, length of the source, amount of water inside, whether or not a bird ladder was present and its condition, and any obstructions over or around the water). We got a record of the locations of 37 known artificial water sources and took off.

We found that only about one-third of those water sources (mostly round metal troughs or empty engine cases) had an adequate bird ladder. These are vital as escape routes for birds that fall in the water, giving them a chance to climb out before they tire and drown. We also saw that over half of the troughs that we visited had some sort of obstruction, whether wooden fencing, barbed wire, or thick vegetative growth in the water. Obstructions can be deadly barriers to birds and bats that drink while flying and require larger expanses of open water. Finally, troughs are supposed to be full to within 6 inches of the top, yet only one-third of those that we saw had adequate water content, and most were simply empty.

An unfortunate casualty of a trough with too little water and no bird ladder to aid in its escape

With these results, we gave a presentation to the BLM office that hopefully got people thinking about how we approach water development, maintain the developments, and keep these water sources from causing more harm than good. We still plan on visiting water sources among our other tasks, but as we both finish within a month of now, it’s likely that we won’t get a chance go much more in depth. I do, however, appreciate that we had the chance to investigate the issue freely and uncover the issues on our own!

The presentation!

This Mountain Plover seemed to enjoy the thick vegetation sitting in this large water trough

Some Utah Prairie Dogs stood at attention as we recorded data on a series of troughs near their colony

Halfway through my CLM internship experience and the “To do” list has been lengthened greatly. During this past week of respite I’ve realized exactly how busy things will be when I return to work. However, the fact that I have recently returned to the field (with great care not to aggravate my still perplexing injury) has alleviated most of my worry.

The abundance of work doesn’t mean we’ve been neglecting our duties. In fact, just last week we completed this year’s survey plots in the study of Greater Sage Grouse habitat suitability. This was a large project and it feels fantastic to open up so much time for other work. We also recently finished our fence line surveys for the summer after walking miles and miles of fences to record raptor perch locations.

The Double-Arch Alcove in Kolob

I have also been lucky enough to join the USFS on some of their electro-shocking expeditions, where we waded through the chilly mountain streams and collected the local fish for measurements, and a brief survey of some pellet surveys in treatment areas. During some upcoming weekends we will be joining the recreation crew at some BLM sites to provide some wildlife education for children and I’m also looking forward to helping with some trail maintenance on National Public Lands Day.

Hybrid!

All in all, things have been pleasantly busy and interesting. The diversity of projects ahead has me excited to get started on the second half of my internship and see what new things I can learn!

Co-worker bonding during a long work day

Internal conflict resolution has been my new focus at work. It’s frustrating, and I would much rather not be dealing with it, but in a way I think it’s an important thing for me to work on.

When I came out here it was with the goal of exploring as much as possible. I took that to heart, both at work and outside of work. At work, we were performing a diversity of activities in the field, ranging from vegetation surveys of sage grouse habitat to nighttime Mexican spotted owl surveys. My brother had even sent me an Australian-style oilskin cowboy hat, saying that it was the only thing missing from the photos of me out here.

Outside of work I was trying hard to experience the landscape intimately. I was approaching mountain biking with the notion that I could go as far as I wanted so that I could see everything the Cedar City area had to offer. If I saw a trail, I’d go until I lost it, then turn around. Running was the same; I always looked at trail running as the most efficient way for me to connect to a new area. I found trails and disregarded time limits, exhausting myself on mountains as I climbed thousands of feet in heat or, in one case, rain and hail! It was fantastic.

Then the conflict arose. I started getting pain in a familiar place, where I’d hurt myself before, and it was painful just getting up in the morning. I found myself stiff and struggling to work in the field, finally raising the white flag and resigning myself to dreaded office work. Desperate to make myself useful, I powered through the mountain of data that had accumulated while we were having fun out in the field and even tying up loose ends from previous years’ data. This didn’t take as long as I thought, so I started to turn to my mentor for extra tasks, and she in turn sought work for me among other colleagues in the office. I got a 3-day assignment to survey the cattle on allotments toward the Nevada border (via 4×4, of course…walking was still painful). When I finished that, I gained the mission of engraving BLM property (this was harder to organize than I thought, and it’s ongoing…I occasionally find a rusty shovel, piece of rebar, or permanent marker that people jokingly leave on my desk).

I’ve been dealing with this setback and my physical antsy-ness by trying to get as much as possible from the situation and prepare myself for when I get back in the field. I’ve been poring over every piece of literature on sage grouse, their habitat, and their restoration. When I finished with that, I read about wilderness ethics, different methods for monitoring terrestrial birds, wildlife management techniques, and other miscellaneous literature (like the wilderness ranger handbook, which must be really old judging by the advice it gives). While it’s hard to hear from my co-workers about the day’s trials and tribulations in the field, I find comfort in my familiarity with the background info that, I hope, will only make me more effective when I finally get back outdoors. This is one of those things that I just need to learn to deal with, and the difficulty of it makes it that much better for me. And, of course, I get by with a little help from my friends!

Coming from the East Coast, it’s interesting to think about the idea of “land management.” The concept seems broad, encompassing a whole range of activities under one blanket term. Are we protecting wildlife (or wild life, to use that simple but significant difference in the term)? Do we see the work as resource preservation or resource conservation? Or something else?

I just spent the last few days with the Cedar City BLM range crew, mainly to familiarize myself with the vegetation, though we barely scratched the surface. The surprising part was that I had never been exposed to “range” work before, especially as a field of study. The range crew told me that we were surveying the BLM grazing allotments for vegetation species and abundance. This was my first surprise. In the East, land seems to be categorized quite specifically for its use. But here we were, out on one small plot of the millions of acres of BLM land to see how the land is suited for grazing. Meanwhile, some of my other seasonal counterparts were out surveying the vegetation in other areas to see if it was adequate habitat for sage grouse.

On the first day, we visited a site that one of the range crew workers said “we should’ve surveyed by satellite;” it was parched and primarily filled with cheatgrass. Even the range cage, set up to protect a small plot of vegetation from grazing animals to see what grows in their absence was crumpled and full of taller cheatgrass. Biologists and rangeland managers alike would see it as problematic, and we joked about how a squatter could find a home there and never be bothered about it. Through my eyes, born and bred in the eastern U.S. and used to seeing an obvious purpose, plan, direction, or advantage in the state of the land, I was struggling to see this land’s place in the BLM’s grand scheme. With all the millions of acres, how do we look at this one site and see its potential for sustaining livestock with diverse vegetation for years to come?

Keep in mind, I understand the importance of this work. I see that this public land is in high demand for multiple uses and that our branch of the government spreads its resources thin over a diversity of projects with lofty goals. My simple point in these observations is that I am looking at a new landscape through alien eyes. I’m excited to spend these five months learning not only how land management works on the ground, but also how to look at the landscape and see all of its potential. I heard a long time ago that landscape conservation is all about seeing what could be and wrestling to make it happen. If I see an endless field of cheatgrass and a bludgeoned range cage, I want to see how it could become an ideal landscape. I want to see how our influence can take effect for the better.