I have lived my whole life up until this past month within the warm embrace of the sea. Actually, that is a poetic lie. The Salish Sea has less of a warm embrace and more of a swirling whirlpool of mysterious riptides, algal blooms, freezing water and strange denizens of the deep. My sea is not warm and peaceful but dark, mysterious and deadly.
If Seattle could be said to be in the warm embrace of anything it would be the clouds. Our constant grey blanket traps in heat, light, and moisture making our winter’s dreary and wet, but ultimately mild. Despite an academic understanding of the concept, I never fully understood how much this was a function of the water until I moved over the mountains and away from the ameliorating effects of the sea.
Central Oregon was a revelation. Leaving Seattle I filled my bags with tank tops and sandals, bragging to all my friends about the sunny days I was heading to. My first week of work it snowed twice.
I used to complain about the capricious nature of the weather in the Pacific Northwest, but I now realize I had no idea what I was talking about. Around here you scrape ice off your car before heading to work at seven and then slather yourself with sunscreen before going into the field at ten thirty. Prior to moving here I was warned extensively about the heat, no one mentioned the cold.
These conditions have had an interesting effect on our work environment as well. Our second week of work we headed to a rather remote site in the south of our district to look for a rumored population of Lomatium donnellii. I am no stranger to driving a pick up down potentially treacherous roads but this one was just bad. It was a classic rutted, narrow BLM two track. Even before the cattle guard off the highway we knew what we were in for, it was preceded by a small lake of a puddle which splashed muddy water clear up to our roof. The next thirty minutes were spent skating our half ton work truck across puddle after puddle, thoroughly baptizing it in thick clay mud.
The kiss of death for our trip came in the form of a particularly nasty bit of road. I stopped and looked at the turn, a solid forty five degree angle, completely covered with at least six inches of water over thoroughly saturated, slippery clay soil. I took a moment to consider the embarrassment of calling dispatch for a rescue my second week of work, then turned around. Not even fifty feet back up the road it started snowing.
Not just a light smattering either, a proper flurry of fat flakes which quickly coated the landscape with a picturesque layer of white. I felt a warm sense of vindication in my decision to head back.
But don’t worry, this story has a happy ending. Last Wednesday after two weeks of warmer, drier weather we returned. This time we quickly made our way down a now dry road to find exactly what we were hoping for, a very healthy population of at least 60 thousand plants in full bloom. Lomatium donnellii is an important species for restoration in our area and this collection will be an important part of our summer’s work. The road to get there may have been bumpy but in the end we got a great outcome and a pretty good story.
S Bower, BLM – Prineville District Office
