During the Perseid meteor shower, the high Sierra is one of the best places to see stars shooting across the night sky. Even at nights when the moon shines brightly, you can still be astonished by a few brilliant meteors streaking overhead. In 2015, the situation was different. Wild fires on the other side of the Sierra sent smoke over high peaks, and veiled the sun during the day and the stars during the night. I was in Dusy Basin with my camping pal at the time; one morning we found specks of fine ash covering the ground, the lake and our tents.
We didn’t see any meteor that August. But we saw something else that delighted us.
On our way out, we could smell the scorched wood in the air as we climbed up from the lake where we had camped for several days and headed toward Bishop Pass. It was our habit to avoid the dusty trail whenever we could in the wilderness. So we threaded our way in a gradual upslope hike over rock terraces of alpine flowers. Suddenly we heard a soft high-pitched yelp. We stopped, wondering if it was a puppy, but no dogs were allowed in that area. Could it be an injured animal?
We walked in the direction of the sound. A few more yelps. Then we saw it. Just 15 feet from us. A bird! A fairly large one, too. It had the same colors and markings of the surrounding rocks. Then, we saw another, and another. They emerged from the background as our eyes became more discerning, and began to pick them out. A covey of six White-tailed Ptarmigans, two standing still, the rest moving very slowly, foraged in the low vegetation fed by the thin source creek of Bishop Branch that eventually flows to the Middle Fork Kings River.
The harsh environment above the tree line is not known for supporting a great diversity of animal lives. It’s a treat to see any animal up in the alpine fell field. However, I was a little disappointed later when I learned that these plump birds were not native to the high country of Sierra Nevada even though they looked perfectly at home there. White-tailed Ptarmigans were introduced as game birds in 1971-72 by the California Department of Fish and Game. Game bird? Hunted for sport? It’s beyond me that anybody would want to kill these beautiful birds that earn a pretty tough living on high mountains. Maybe it’s just a pretext for some biologists who loved to see more of them on the lonely and exposed mountain ranges? (See the end for a note.)
Seven years earlier, in August 2008, we also camped in Upper Dusy Basin, but did not come across any ptarmigan then. According to a 1992 study by Frederick and Gutierrez, White-tailed Ptarmigans released in Mono County in California were able to cross gaps of unsuitable habitat 10 to 20 kilometers wide. They expanded their range, within 18 years, to the north by 79 kilometers, and to the south by 114 kilometers. No doubt they had reached Dusy Basin when we were there the first time because there were continuous alpine habitats linking their southern-most sighting in 1990 and where we camped in 2008. Moreover, only about 30 kilometers (as the crow flies) separated these two locations. It’s just that they avoided our gaze.
A comprehensive look at White-tailed Ptarmigan in the U.S.
See why they are also called "Snow" Quails.
Note: I admit my naivety in imagining such a motive for the introduction of the ptarmigan. Yet the skeptic in me also wondered if they did any environmental impact study before such a move. Judging from the severe criticism quoted below, they apparently did not. In Birds of Yosemite and the East Slope (1992, 2nd printing with updates), David Gaines says: "White-tailed Ptarmigan, which naturally range from the Rocky Mountains and Cascade Range north to Alaska, were introduced to the Sierra in blithe disregard for their impact on native plants and animals. We can only hope that they don't overgraze the Sierra's unique alpine flora, or outcompete native birds and animals."
We didn’t see any meteor that August. But we saw something else that delighted us.
We departed on a smoke-filled day. Before sunrise, August 17, 2015. |
We walked in the direction of the sound. A few more yelps. Then we saw it. Just 15 feet from us. A bird! A fairly large one, too. It had the same colors and markings of the surrounding rocks. Then, we saw another, and another. They emerged from the background as our eyes became more discerning, and began to pick them out. A covey of six White-tailed Ptarmigans, two standing still, the rest moving very slowly, foraged in the low vegetation fed by the thin source creek of Bishop Branch that eventually flows to the Middle Fork Kings River.
Elevation about 11,900 ft, August 17, 2015. |
One of the six. |
A comprehensive look at White-tailed Ptarmigan in the U.S.
See why they are also called "Snow" Quails.
Note: I admit my naivety in imagining such a motive for the introduction of the ptarmigan. Yet the skeptic in me also wondered if they did any environmental impact study before such a move. Judging from the severe criticism quoted below, they apparently did not. In Birds of Yosemite and the East Slope (1992, 2nd printing with updates), David Gaines says: "White-tailed Ptarmigan, which naturally range from the Rocky Mountains and Cascade Range north to Alaska, were introduced to the Sierra in blithe disregard for their impact on native plants and animals. We can only hope that they don't overgraze the Sierra's unique alpine flora, or outcompete native birds and animals."
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