I will skip the week of training due to the unspoken excitement that I felt when learning about government computer protocol, how to drive for a second time, and what to do around used needles and chemicals that are prohibited to consume. Nonetheless, it was great meeting my coworkers for the next 5 months in the Shoshone field office.  So far everyone is friendly and gets along with everyone else.

I have not participated in field research before and it sure was a surprise upon first encounters.  I am in the Seeds of Success program, however I was put into the vegetation monitoring unit so I could take a back seat and observe.  I was not ready for the front lines of the battle field to be cannon fodder.

We went out onto the BLM land.  No BLM land in PA, where I’m from (don’t quote me).  Anyhow, BLM land is a real deal.  But, BLM land is just there; it exists.  There are no signs welcoming a visitor to a scenic overlook, no information centers, just signs of land marks in sparse locations to help with navigation.  Luckily, BLM land is public land, which means free camping sites.

Idaho has much more than potatoes, but the potato farms are massive regardless. Instead of corn, there are green fields with little white flowers for each plant.   Surrounding the plots is high dessert climate which is sage brush and tan grasses, especially invasive grasses that are all dried up due to the 90 plus weather every day.  Southern Idaho is called the ‘Magic Valley’.  Sadly there are few magicians or wizards roaming the streets or even children with lightning bolts on their head, but the magic is the irrigation from the snake river into the desert.  What a let down.

We drove through some tiny towns in Idaho, probably around a 1000 each.  Just a highway as the main road with a gas station and a small restaurant as the only buildings visible.  On either side of the highway there are several interest signs sprawled: signs for state parks, caves, and fossil beds along the drive.  I need to check those out.

Once we passed the towns we took a right onto a unassuming road.  Just a paved country road.  We soon left civilization!  Houses were no longer in existence, sedans did not exist, and it was rare if we saw any other species in the genus Homo.  The farms were the last to disappear and we headed into BLM territory.  The road took a turn and the asphalt disappeared, transforming into dirt.  We took a gradual incline up the road and soon a rim appeared as we reached the top of the plateau.  This was a picture worthy formation as the black rock face jutted out from the tan grassy surface.  The road continued forward into the now visible rolling hills. The dirt road became choppy and we trudged along at a slower pace, but our route soon led us to a road, but was it actually a road. 

At the intersection, the driver, another CLM intern, held out his/her arm to locate our position with our yellow GPS.   The devise is not too quick with its calculations, however we were in the correct position somehow.  I felt unsure of where I was and I had no information of where I was supposed to be, luckily I was the only intern in the truck on day 1 out in the field.  The truck shifted itself into 4 wheel drive and the blue vehicle grew another foot.  The extension rose, the tires increased in size, the tread became more defined, and the truck purred as the driver stroked his/her fingers across the now velvet steering wheel.  The truck let loose a somber meow as we turned onto a two track covered in cheat-grass and rocks.  We drove at a whopping 5 mph with high caution.  I rocked from side to side and back and forth, getting airborne and bumping into the sides.  I was indeed wearing my seat belt, since I am a safe and reliable employee, nevertheless the ride was bumpy.  I had trouble just keeping my head still and could not tell the direction of the path.  Some rocks were covered in grass so I could not prepare for a large jolt of jump.  I could hear some grinding as the truck’s cabins grazed over rocks and exclamations flew out of the drivers mouth.  “Always hit rocks with the tires dead on.”

We finally reached our destination.  The GPS was taken out of the car with the rest of the supplies.  I had no idea what our goal intended.  I put a few binders in my bag, massaged some sunscreen on my cheeks, secured my Phillies hat, and followed the leader.  We walked across the assortment of grasses, sage brush, and flowers/forbs.  The GPS did not have a constant directional path as we changed our alignment every couple minutes.  Sadly, I had left my boots back at home and decided the best alternative was mesh running shoes.  The seed heads from the cheat-grass jammed into the opening, stabbing my soft skin.  It hurt.  A mistake made only once.  We continued walking across the terrain until a pink flag was visible fluttering in the stinky hot breeze.  We pulled out the 50 meter measuring tape, found north, and I unrolled the tape.  I was directed to go left because I kept on wondering to the right when unrolling the tape.  I got to the end of the line and realized I forgot a stake, so I put a rock on top to secure the line.

I recorded the pin drop data for the first 15 meters, writing down codes for species I had not heard of, and measurements for the height, checking to make each column was accurate, but also precise.  I started to pin drop every 0.5 meters (5 cm, 50 mm, 500000 um).  We carried the meter pin in a protective PVC pipe. I dropped the pin vertically and watched what it hit.  “This grass and dirt.  What is this grass?”  “15.5 meter.  Rock.” “16 meters. A bush, a flower, and dirt with Herbaceous Litter.”  I was soon told what plant I hit and the correct code to write down on the sheet.  I also measured each plant’s drooping height.  I got the hang of the shtick, but I was bending too much at the waist, instead of the knees.  I got a little dizzy, and drank my warm refreshing tap water to recover my balance.  Afterwards my partner for the drop took measurements for sage brush cover and the third member of our group finished up the forb diversity check.

It was lunch time.  I reached into my bag, but no lunch bag was present.  I had to run back to the truck.  I ran, then walked.  I still was not use to the dry heat nor the elevation.  I grabbed my lunch and an extra water bottle and rolled back down to where I came.  I actually forgot what the true direction I came from since there are not too many outstanding landmarks.  I walked in a direction, looking at a tall sage brush for guidance.  I was wrong.  I walked over some rocks I had not seen before and knew I had misinterpreted my surroundings.  I did a 360 spin and a backflip and noticed my coworkers waving their hands and lunch boxes at me from about 2 football fields away.  I hustled on over and enjoyed my delicious gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwich on multi-grain bread.  What a day.

Don’t worry.  I made it back to the field office.  We hiked a mile and a quarter to another pin drop site.  Saw some yellow bellied marmots.  Traversed some small gorges with small streams.  I had no expectation of seeing water in the high desert.  We got lost on the way back.  We should have marked the truck with a GPS dot but found the truck after wandering.  We drove back and called it an 11 hour day.  Enough was enough for one day.  Slept like a babe that night.  A fun day, and a day that I had not imagined.