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Headwaters

Glacier National Park - National Park Service

Headwaters is a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else.

  • 47 episodes
  • Updated Jun 27, 2025

Episodes47

  • Jun 27, 2025 · 7 min

    Bonus | How the Going-to-the-Sun Road Got Its Name, and More!

    How did the Going-to-the-Sun Road get its name? What's the difference between "the east side" and East Glacier? Take a shallow dip into place names of Glacier in this short bonus episode. Send us your questions for future episodes at glac_media_lab@nps.gov with the subject "Headwaters." Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org Frank Waln music: www.instagram.com/frankwaln Stella Nall art: stellanall.com --- TRANSCRIPT: --- [mellow beat playing] Peri Sasnett: Welcome to Headwaters. This is a science and history show from Glacier National Park. Daniel Lombardi: I'm Daniel. Peri: And I'm Peri. Daniel: This show is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy, as always. Peri: And this is a bonus episode for those of you planning a trip to Glacier sometime soon. [mellow beat fading] Daniel: So not so much as a deep dive, as much as... Peri: A shallow... a dip. Daniel: A quick dip. Okay, we're going to talk about place names. [beat plays briefly] I think the place names around here can be a little confusing. Peri: I remember when I started here and people just were throwing out, like, Many Glacier and the North Fork and the Middle Fork. It's very confusing. Daniel: There's a lot of forks. Peri: This is true. Daniel: So, first of all, we're talking about Glacier National Park in Montana. Peri: There is also a Glacier National Park in Canada, and also Glacier Bay National Park in Alaska. Daniel: Not those. We're talking about Montana. Peri: Okay, so just to note up front, a lot of place names in Glacier come from a lot of different languages, perhaps least of all English. Originally the landscape had a lot of names from Salish, Blackfoot, Kootenai, and Cree languages. Then, French trappers came into the area and lots of other people have come here over the years with lots of different names for many of the same places. Daniel: So if you're encountering a name that you're not understanding right away, it might be because it's a name coming from a language that you are not familiar with. Peri: Right, or like a direct translation from a language that is not English. I always reach for a book called "Place Names of Glacier National Park." [beat plays briefly] Daniel: I got it right here. This is probably the best book that I know of that it's, you know, a few hundred pages of all of the place names from a park map and it's got a little bit of history of all of them. Peri: Yeah, here's maybe my favorite quote from that book. It says, "Each language portrays a universe of its own and it will often be difficult to fit the universe of one language into the universe of another," which kind of speaks to what we were talking about earlier where all these names come from all these different languages and they don't always make sense in translation. Daniel: Yeah, I like that. That's interesting. All right, well, with that in mind, Peri, let's, uh, start really broad. [beat plays briefly] Take me around the park. I know that the North Fork has nothing to do with like a spoon or a fork, but it has something to do with a river. So maybe start there. What's the North Fork? Peri: Okay, so the North Fork refers to the north fork of the Flathead River, which splits into three forks. One comes down from the north along the west edge of the park. Peri and Daniel: Confusing. Peri: Yeah. Peri: The Middle Fork flows along the south of the park, also confusing, and the South Fork is not in the park. Did that help? Daniel: Uh, okay. But at any rate, they're all forks of the Flathead River and they all come together to form the main stem of the Flathead River. Peri: Yeah, which flows west of the park towards the Flathead Valley. Daniel: Right. Now, I hear people talk about the east side a lot. [beat plays briefly] There's more to it than that, though. Peri: Yes, so the east side of Glacier has a series of big valleys, each with more or less confusing names. So there's Many Glacier, St. Mary, which some people call St. Mary’s, it's controversial, and Two Medicine. Daniel: Okay. Peri: And then there's a town called East Glacier, which is not the same as the whole east side. East Glacier also has its own history of many different names. Daniel: Yeah. Peri: It, at one point, was called a Glacier Station, because the railroad stops there. And it also was called Midvale. Daniel: Yeah. Peri: So in 1950, they changed it to East Glacier. [beat plays briefly] And we are on the west side. We are in the town of West Glacier, which is near Lake McDonald and Apgar. Daniel: Yeah, okay. Yes, West Glacier, according to the Holterman book, was formerly called Belton, and then they changed the name just so it would be more friendly to tourists, I guess. Peri: Or more confusing? Daniel: Maybe. So it used to be called Belton, but today it's called West Glacier. And again, it goes without saying probably that Indigenous people have their own names for these places. The Kootenai have a word for the Belton area that means something like Spotted Foot Mountains. Peri: Okay, so three of the main entrances to the park are [beat plays briefly] West Glacier, East Glacier, and St. Mary. I feel like we probably confused people even more about those, but. Daniel: Well, let's zoom in. What's in between West Glacier and St. Mary? Peri: Going-to-the-Sun Road. Daniel: That's what everyone's here for. Peri: This is true. Daniel: So it's --. Peri: A road to the sun. Daniel: Yes, Going-to-the-Sun Road is not between East Glacier and West Glacier. Peri: That's Highway 2. Daniel: But between St. Mary and West Glacier is Going-to-the-Sun Road. Now, Jack Holterman here has a little bit of history on the name, Going-to-the-Sun Road. You would expect nothing less. Peri: I would not. Daniel: Okay, "This most unforgettable name in Glacier turns out to be a bit disappointing. Well, at least if we follow James Willard Schultz, who bluntly told the Geographic Board of Names in 1929, quote, "I myself named Going-to-the-Sun Mountain, there is no Indian legend in connection with its name."" But then Jack Holterman goes on to explain that there actually were a bunch of different Indigenous legends associated with that mountain and with similar names. Peri: Okay, so James Willard Schultz is a big character that pops up a lot in Glacier. Daniel: In early park history. Peri: Yeah, and something that I learned just a few years ago is that when you look at the map in Glacier, you see a lot of names that you might think are native names for things like Going-to-the-Sun Mountain or Rising Wolf Mountain, all of these places. However, James Willard Schultz actually applied those names to all those features that probably already had different, much longer standing Indigenous names and probably many different ones from many different tribes. Daniel: So in some ways, some of these names are kind of a blending of Euro-American early trapper explorer names mixed up with the Indigenous names that existed at that time. Peri: Yeah, and confusingly, James Willard Schultz did a combination of naming things because he thought certain names sounded cool, but also naming places in honor of actual Indigenous people. Daniel: People he was friends with. Peri: Yeah, his contemporaries. Daniel: [beat plays briefly] Yeah, so I guess we've just made this all more confusing than it started. Peri: I'd like to think we've sparked some interest, perhaps, for people. Daniel: At the very least, all I can say is, you know, take out your park map and ask some questions. Peri: Yeah, there's a lot of overlapping eras of history here and a lot different cultures that have been a part of this landscape. Daniel: And names really kind of capture all of that history in an interesting way. Peri: Totally. Daniel: Well, this has just been a quick dive into some park names and history. We'll be releasing some new episodes soon, so stay tuned. Peri: And if you have more questions in the meantime, or if you wanna try and stump the ranger, we love trivia questions. Daniel: So you can send us an email. Peri: Yes. At glac underscore media underscore lab at nps dot gov. [mellow beat playing] Daniel: We'll put that in the show notes, too. Peri: If you want to learn more about what the Glacier Conservancy does, you can visit their website at glacier.org. Daniel: You can also just support the show directly by leaving a review in Apple podcasts. It used to be called iTunes, but Apple podcast or, you know, Peri: You're really dating yourself. Daniel: Whatever app you use for podcasts, go leave us a review, even if you haven't listened to all of Headwaters yet, you're not sure you like it. Peri: Just give us five stars anyway. Daniel: Yeah, and then go back and listen to the past five years of episodes that we have. There's a lot of good stuff out there and we got more coming, so stay tuned. Peri: If you like the show, tell your friends about it. Daniel: Thanks for listening! [mellow beat fading]

  • Sep 30, 2024 · 46 min

    Climate and Electrical Solutions with Katie Pfennigs

    A conversation with Katie Pfennigs, who is the Director of External Affairs and Energy Services at the Flathead Electric Cooperative. This episode was recorded in May 2024. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Gaby Eseverri, Peri Sasnett, and Madeline Vinh. Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Climate change in Glacier: www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/climate-change.htm --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri: This is Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. My name is Peri, and I'm speaking into a microphone pretty much entirely powered with renewable electricity. That's because the Pacific Northwest has a lot of big hydroelectric dams, but also because Glacier has been installing rooftop solar to supplement the power we draw from the grid. This episode is part of our Climate Conversations series about how the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has emitted enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate more than one degree Celsius, with more warming on the way. Daniel has been sitting down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. Like a lot of places, we are transitioning away from fossil fuels here at the park. That means swapping fossil fuel appliances and vehicles with electric alternatives. [mellow beat beginsto play ] As you'll hear in this episode, this is not an easy transition. To do it, we're going to need a lot more electricity -- something like three times more than we currently generate in America. But according to the nonprofit Rewiring America, the good news is that because electricity is so much more efficient, will only need about half as much energy as we're currently using. These climate conversations don't have to be listened to in any order. Each one stands on its own. This one was recorded in the spring of 2024 when my co-host, Daniel, talked with Katie Pfennigs from Flathead Electric Co-op, which is the organization that provides power to the west side of the park. I think I might have learned more from this one than any other in the series, so I hope you enjoy it. Daniel: Welcome to Headquarters. We're going to talk about climate and electricity and electrical solutions to climate change. Could you introduce yourself? And I'm curious what you like about your job at Flathead Electric Co-op. Katie: Sure. I'm Katie Pfennigs. I am the community relations manager at Flathead Electric Co-op. It's a lot of fun. Daniel: Yeah. What do you think's kept you there for almost a decade? Katie: You know, I grew up in the Flathead. I came back after my undergraduate work, and I just-- I love this area. I love this community. And working at a co-op is so community based. Really, it's just it just feels like a way for me to to have a really positive and significant impact on the community that I love. Daniel: Yeah, say more about that. What is an electric co-op? Katie: So kind of a unique, a unique business model. But a cooperative is actually owned by all of the members that we serve. So if you pay a bill to Flathead Electric for your electricity, you are in fact, an owner of the co-op. There is no-- no profit. There are no shareholders. So really, it's just a really neat way to operate a business. Very, very member centric. Daniel: So nationally there are for-profit electric companies, I assume? Katie: Yes. Daniel: And they they create electricity and send it to their customers in order to generate a profit. But that's not what Flathead electric Co-op does. Katie: Exactly. Daniel: It's community owned. Katie: Exactly. Yes. Yep. We were, you know, when we we were very first started it was during the time right after the Rural Electrification Act, which, you know, that act was landmark legislation that that really changed the way that rural America looked in that it provided opportunities for some of the rural parts of our country that had no access to electricity. You know, Flathead Electric is is like all other co-ops in that we had a group of farmers who who came together and pooled resources and got some funding through the Rural Electrification Act to start Flathead Electric Co-op and started very, very small. And we've grown today to serve just over 58,000 members. Daniel: So the Rural Electrification Act, REA, it was a New Deal, Great Depression-era program. 1936. Katie: Yes. And then Flathead Electric was was founded in 1937. Following that. Daniel: My understanding was basically rural areas like this one, like Montana, there wasn't enough money to be made for for-profit electric companies to string power lines out to ranches and small towns. Katie: You've got it. Yeah. At the time. At the time, a lot of people thought that electrifying the rural parts of our country just was not economically feasible or just could not happen. So it did take legislation to accomplish that, that goal. Daniel: Wow. And now so that was it was about 90 years ago. And Flathead Electric Co-op has been here ever since then. Katie: We have. And we've grown and, you know, since then went through a fairly large acquisition. And and we're somewhat unique in that we don't only serve rural areas. A lot of the co-ops in the country just serve the the rural areas, the outskirts of the the municipalities. But Flathead Electric actually serves the municipal areas of, you know, Kalispell, Whitefish, Columbia Falls, Bigfork, and then all the way up to Libby as well, which does make us a little bit unique in the co-op world and also contributes to us being the largest co-op in in the state of Montana by a long shot and second largest utility to Northwestern Energy that's an investor owned utility. Daniel: Okay. Do you think Flathead Electric, is it also a an energy utility? Is that the category you'd put it in or is that a little different? Katie: I would put us in the category of an electric utility. Daniel: Okay. Katie: Energy really is a much broader concept than electricity. You know, energy really is just the ability to to do work. And electricity is a form of energy where you're taking that work and running it through some sort of a generation facility, you know, whether that's hydropower, so-- which is what powers most of our area, you're right. But that's, you know, taking that that running water, that motion and running it through a hydroelectric dam to generate electricity and then transmitting that to power homes to do a different type of work. Right? In homes and businesses. Daniel: Yeah. Okay. Here in Glacier, we are then dealing with multiple utilities because we use we're using propane or using natural gas often to heat our buildings. But then we're working with Flathead Electric Co-op. We're getting electricity to run our computers and turn the lights on and everything. Katie: You know, when someone has access to natural gas, typically that's what they're using for their home, home heating and water heating, which are the two biggest users of electricity or energy in a home, and then the park is very similar. So you might have electrically powered lights and outlets and, you know, whatever whatever else your needs are that aren't hooked to natural gas, aren't hooked to propane. Daniel: Yeah, exactly. We have a combination of both in Glacier. And one of the downsides to that is that there's quite a bit more greenhouse gas emissions associated with burning fossil fuels like gas and propane. But before we get into that, a big thing that you deal with then is the grid. What is the grid? Katie: Right. So the grid, if we're just talking about the physical grid, is everything from the generating facility -- so again, I'll use hydropower as as my example here because that's the world I live in. And so everything from the hydroelectric dam, And then that power is then transmitted, right? You have to always have to get power from where it's generated to where it's needed. And the way that that's done is through the rest of the grid, which is a transmission system of of high voltage transmission lines and then a series of substations and transformers that transform that, that high-voltage electricity into a lower voltage that can be carried over a series of distribution lines. And that's what Flathead Electric does as a-- we're a distribution co-op. So we build the distribution system, which is the part of the grid that carries it carries that power to homes and businesses in our service area where that power is again stepped down. So that it can be served right into your your home or your business or whatever that need may be. So there's another another step in that grid. Daniel: Okay. Katie: So everything from the generating facility through the transmission system in the substations and then our distribution system and right to where it gets to your your home would be considered the grid. Daniel: Well, then let's go to the first step in that process. Generation, electrical generation around here, we have several hydroelectric facilities and like regionally, there's a lot of hydroelectric power. So where does Flathead Electric get its electricity? Katie: Yeah. So the vast majority of our power comes from the Bonneville Power Administration, which is the federal power marketing agency that was formed to market the power coming from federal projects. Most of those federal projects are the federal Columbia River Hydropower System, which is a series of 31 federal hydro projects all throughout the Columbia River Basin, including two that happen to live right in our service area, right? The one I drove by as I was coming up here, Hungry Horse Dam, is what most people are familiar with in our area, but we also serve-- our service area goes up to Libby Montana, which is where the Libby Dam is located. And both of those are federal hydro projects. So, yes, that power is generated by those dams and then a series throughout the rest of the Columbia River basin all the way out to the Pacific Ocean. So everywhere between here and here and there, Idaho, Washington, Oregon. Daniel: So for the most part, most of the electricity used at least on the west side of Glacier National Park, it's coming from hydroelectric facilities. Katie: Yes. Well, all the electricity, I mean, really almost all the electricity purchased from Flathead Electric specifically would be coming from those hydroelectric facilities. Yes. Daniel: But that said, there are wires that all connect to a greater grid that's regionally greater and I suppose even nationally larger. Katie: Yes. So we are we're part of-- from the transmission system perspective, we're part of what's called the Western Interconnect. And that's really... Most of the Western United States is all interconnected through a giant transmission system. And that allows us to balance the grid, which is obviously very important. You have to to keep the lights on. You have to have the supply of electricity and the demand for electricity have to match up exactly at any given minute to keep the grid in balance. And so having, you know, more of that interconnection helps us regionally do more of that. Daniel: And on that larger grid than there are lots of generating facilities. There's coal plants and not just hydro, there's solar, there's all kinds of things, right? But locally we can say that pretty much all the electrons we're getting here are from hydroelectric. Katie: Yeah, I would say I think it's about 85% of our power mix is, you know, those large hydro projects. We've also got, Bonneville also markets a nuclear project, which is about 10% of our portfolio. But overall, yes, Flathead Electric's power mix is 96% carbon free, which is it's just really great for our service area. We're very, very proud of that. Daniel: That's cool. Katie: Yeah, we have developed a few local generation projects. They're fairly small projects, but they're still just a great addition to our power mix and locally generated power, which is pretty exciting. So we've got two existing community solar projects and then one that we'll be breaking ground on early this summer. Actually, we're just in the final stages of selling the generation from that project. And then we've also got a landfill gas to energy. So it's methane, taking the methane gas that is produced at a landfill and turning that into electricity. And then we've also got partnership with Stoltza here for a biomass generator. We purchase the power that is created at that facility, and we've got a couple of partnerships for some small hydro projects within our service area as well. And then more and more we're seeing, you know, our members are also joining us as part of the of the generation mix in that they're generating some of their own power as well, not unlike the park up here with the with the solar panels and small hydro projects that exist here. [mellow beat begins to play] Daniel: Yeah, we've got solar panels on this rooftop right here. Katie: You do. [beat finishes playing, marking the transition] Daniel: Well, we're lucky then, here at Glacier National Park because we're looking for electricity that comes without much or any greenhouse gas emissions. So we're really lucky that we have solar here, but we have that most of the electricity where we're getting is relatively carbon-free coming from hydroelectric systems. Katie: Yeah. Yeah. We're very, very fortunate to have access to the federal hydro system, not only as, you know, hydropower, non-carbon generating resource, but it's also an extremely affordable and reliable, you know, most importantly, as we as, we start to look at significant resource adequacy concerns on our our grid as a whole, that reliability piece is really critical. And what makes it reliable is the ability to ramp it up and down instantaneously to meet the demand that's on the system, right? So we talked about that supply and demand having to be in constant balance and hydropower allows us to keep that in balance as well. Daniel: So the other great thing about hydro is that it's like the gas- or the coal-fired power plants that are adjustable in that you can pretty easily adjust the amount of electricity you're you're creating and that it's creating electricity, whether it's dark out, whether it's winter or summer. There are real baseload source of electricity. Katie: Yeah, it's an incredible resource. My favorite by far and, you know, completely renewable. Obviously, the water continues to go through the river and, and it rains and snows again, and it melts, and it-- and the whole system starts over. And yes, we can ramp it up. We can ramp it down to meet expected loads. So, I mean, really, it's kind of the original renewable. Yeah, that's what I like to refer to it as. Daniel: So hydro is a really important part of the electric transition. It's really important. Part of our solution to climate change really is, you know, getting us a lot of baseload electricity that's relatively carbon free. That said, there are some downsides. We don't want to dam every river for a lot of reasons. Katie: Right, yes. Daniel: And that, you know, a lot of the good hydro spots are taken. They're established. It's not like we can just scale up hydro very easily anymore. Katie: No, we're not going to be building any more large hydro projects. I mean, it's very difficult to site any generation project. But yes, I don't see us-- I don't see us doing that. Daniel: Yeah. Because then as we're-- as Glacier, as the country, as the region is looking to get more and more of our electricity from sources that don't release greenhouse gases that warm the climate, we are going to need more electricity and less natural gas, less propane, that kind of thing. So there's only so much hydro we can build. So we have, there's some other resources like solar and wind. Let's compare that then to the landfill gas. What do you call that? Katie: Yes. Landfill methane gas to energy plant. Daniel: How does that one work? Katie: So in that case, we are-- we've actually got wells drilled at the landfill. So they're like vertical and horizontal pipes that run through the the trash itself, because methane gas is is generated by all of our garbage. Right. And that's what typically what gets flared off at a landfill. That's where you see the flares. They're burning off that methane because you don't want to put methane straight, methane into the atmosphere. Right. Daniel: So as the garbage, as the-- as our trash... Katie: Decomposes. Daniel: It releases methane, which is a powerful greenhouse gas. Either way, whether you burn it off or just release it, you are releasing greenhouse gases. Yeah. But the idea is you might as well, if you're releasing it, you might as well get some electricity from it. Katie: So you're actually able to extract that gas out of the landfill through the the piping system, vacuum it out and run it through. Cleaning process and then through a very large generator that's right there on the facility that's interconnected into our grid. And we can produce electricity literally from our trash, which is pretty amazing. Daniel: Yeah, that's interesting. Lots of the Flathead Electric Co-op members have solar panels on the roof, including us, including in this building. That's great. What are the downsides to that? I mean, the upside is that it creates electricity for free from the sun with pretty much no greenhouse gases. Yeah, it's good for the climate, but we maybe live in a climate, you know, that's it's like it's very cloudy. Katie: You're looking outside at the cloudy, cloudy, rainy day, right? [laughing]. Daniel: Yeah. Katie: I the challenge with with solar and wind is really in its intermittency. Daniel: Meaning it it's not happening all the time. It's not always sunny. Katie: Yeah. And so we're able to produce a lot of electricity actually. You know, in some cases when you look to the California market, for instance, they're producing way too much, right? So that creates a whole another challenge. They're producing way too much solar when they don't don't need it. But the difficulty, you know, especially when you look at at our area, is that when we need power most to meet like that instantaneous load at peak load, typically there is almost no solar energy being produced and the wind is typically not blowing in those cases either. Daniel: So is that because our peak loads are like at dawn and dusk when it's not as bright out? Katie: Exactly. Or they're happening-- you know, we're a winter peaking facility or winter peaking utility, which means that our peak load happens in the winter months. And those-- our daylight hours are short, right? Daniel: Yeah. Katie: So almost all of our winter peaks happen in the dark. You know, from a utility planning standpoint, what we're concerned about are only really the peaks. It really isn't that we don't have enough electricity, we don't have an electricity shortage -- we have an electricity shortage during our peaks. And it's not just a shortage of power. It's also a shortage of the transmission that we need to get power from one place to another. Our system's historical peak load that we've ever hit just happened in January during that extraordinarily cold snap, right? Mid January. None of us are going to forget that one.[chuckles] And we hit, you know, what, -40? Daniel: It was cold. Katie: It was cold! And we I mean, our system was really it was pushed to the brink. And not just, you know, our system, but regionally. We were we were pushed to the brink of what we have to meet those peaks from a transmission and generation standpoint. And that's pretty scary as we start talking about, you know, resources going away that are helping us meet those peak demands and replacing those resources with something that wasn't generating any power when we needed it. Right then, there was no wind and no solar being generated when we hit that peak. Daniel: So we're in kind of a bind with climate change, in that globally, there's a tremendous need to reduce our emissions that come from generating electricity through gas and coal power plants. But on the other hand, global warming is not significant enough in Montana that we don't still have cold snaps, that it's not still dark and cold in the winter. So we still need electricity when... Katie: We do [laughs]. We do. It's it is a challenge. And, you know, I think ultimately most of us all want the same thing. Right? But the how we get there is the challenge. And from a utility planning perspective, it's definitely a concerning time as we look at what this transition is going to look like and not only from a again, a reliability perspective, but how do we keep electric rates affordable with the amount of generating resources and transmission infrastructure that needs to be built to support the load growth expected in our region? I -- it keeps me up at night. Daniel: So one of the challenges you're describing is that we are phasing out things like coal and natural gas because. Katie: Yes, those "always on" resources, right? Daniel: Yeah, those have a lot of greenhouse gas emissions associated with them, a lot of air pollution associated with them. So in many ways this is a good transition to be making. But the problem is at the same time we're increasing the amount of electricity we need. Katie: Yes. So that's that's a challenge. Daniel: That's a challenge. Katie: No matter how you look at it. That's a challenge that we have to overcome. Right? Daniel: And that we're increasing the need, partly because we're building data centers, we're building like, server farms, but also just population growth is increasing. Katie: Yeah. Daniel: People are plugging more things in. On top of that, on sort of the user end, there is an electrification transition happening, where people are electrifying their weed eaters and lawnmowers. Katie: Yep. Daniel: They're electrifying their cars. All of these have really positive effects as well. Like there's a lot of air pollution and greenhouse gases associated with those tools. Katie: Right. Daniel: Those small two stroke engines generate a lot of greenhouse gas emissions. They generate a lot of air pollution. It's great to electrify them. Plus they're quieter and more efficient. Katie: A lot of people like them a lot better. Right? Daniel: Yeah. But that increases the need for more electricity on the grid. Katie: You've got it. Daniel: Another thing then, I guess, is locally, solar can't fill in all the gaps. Wind can't fill in all the gaps. We've got hydro. That's great. But we can't fill in all the gaps with other renewables. If we zoom out and look at a bigger region, you know, our region or nationally, you could imagine that we could get solar electricity from Arizona when we're having a cold snap here in Montana. But it's not that simple, right? Katie: It's not that simple. Daniel: What's the problem there? Katie: So the transmission system itself needs significant infrastructure additions to be able to facilitate that. Daniel: Basically, they're the wires that connect us, that connect Montana to the solar panels in Southern California -- those wires don't exist to a good enough degree to to get us out of this. Katie: Right. And who pays for that infrastructure need, you know, the billions and billions of dollars of infrastructure that would be needed to make something like that happen. So, you know, that that in and of itself is a massive challenge. And we really, you know, can't possibly overstate that, from not only the cost challenge associated with it, but also just the permitting and, I mean the same way that it's very, very challenging to site generation, it's that much more challenging to site massive transmission lines. Nobody, you know, everybody wants to have power, but nobody wants to look at transmission lines. Daniel: Of course. Katie: And so getting those things sited and built, it's massively challenging. There are so many, so many roadblocks. And even I mean, even to get renewable generation built, there are massive, massive roadblocks. Another challenge with wind and solar is just is the land mass challenge, you know, because really today, to accommodate for the intermittency of those resources, even pairing them with batteries, you need about five to-- five to one in terms of the generating capacity to replace a baseload generation resource. Daniel: So it's this transition in theory, totally works. You know, we have sun shine-- always shining somewhere. We've got wind always blowing somewhere. Plus with our hydro, you know, kind of pulling us along. The problem is that to connect all of this and scale it up costs a lot of money. It takes a lot of work. And paying for that is not easy. Katie: Paying for that is not easy. Building it in the first place is not easy. Talking about the buildout of, you know, the wind generation, the solar generation, the batteries from a natural resources and rare earth minerals standpoint is challenging. I think we're moving in some positive directions, but it's a much, much larger transition than I think than than we hope, right? Daniel: If someone's been listening to the other conversations that I've been having in the series, like the consequences of climate change are extraordinary and that on a global scale, the math pencils out pretty well, that it's worth paying for this transition. But those costs are not-- they're not being billed evenly. Katie: Right. Globally, certainly. Right. Daniel: Yeah. So the the cost of getting our electricity over the past century and a half from coal and gas has been that it's heated our climate by over a degree Celsius already. It's melting the Park's glaciers. It's doubling the amount of wildfire we're seeing in the past couple of decades already. And all of those impacts are going to continue to get worse. Not to mention all the air pollution that comes from just the burning of those fossil fuels. So it's a critical transition to be making. But it's that doesn't mean it's easy. Katie: Far from. Daniel: And then on top of that, some of the impacts of climate change are actually making some of this transition even harder, like wildfire. How is that impacting electric transmission, for example? Katie: Right. Yes. Speaking of things that keep us up at night, right? I mean, obviously, our region has has seen a lot more wildfire. And it's really, really difficult keeping poles and wires safe and and also not having any of of our system cause wildfire. Daniel: That is basically that since it's getting hotter and drier, the risk of lighting-- or accidentally starting... Katie: Of igniting... Daniel: A wildfire from a power line... That's a real serious risk. Katie: Yeah, absolutely. Daniel: Another one could be climate change-exacerbated drought or, you know, if we have really low snowpack, we're a little low this year if we have-- Katie: We're quite low this year. Daniel: Yeah. So that matters for electricity generation when we're so dependent on hydro. Katie: It does. Yeah. That has certainly has an impact on the hydro system. You know, we've been very fortunate to have our hydro system have excellent years. But, you know, certainly. Daniel: This is something you're watching. Katie: Certainly something we're watching. You know, the other thing that I would mention is just extreme weather in general and the strain that it can create on the grid. So again, we're winter peaking. So we saw some of our coldest temperatures we've ever seen just this past winter. And that was, you know, that produced our peak loads in our area. But in other parts of the region where they're summer peaking, and maybe seeing some more extreme temperatures on the warmer side, you know, that that creates, you know, high loads as well that need to be met, which produces grid strain. Right? The higher the load, the higher the peak demand that needs to be met, the more potential strain on the grid. So just extreme weather in both directions, hot or cold has a grid impact. And, of course, extreme weather events like storms, you know, wind, flooding. Daniel: Yeah. Katie: All of which we've seen we just dealt with in our service area with flooding, here in the last couple of years as well. That took out a whole bunch of our system. So, yes, extreme weather in general is a threat to us, to the grid. Daniel: Yeah. Maybe just to reiterate one of these points, it's frustrating that climate change is obviously increasing the temperatures in the winter in this area and all over the place. It's-- it's the winters are getting on average warmer and so are the summers. The summers are getting on average hotter. But we're not struggling to generate the electricity so much with the average, we're struggling to generate electricity... Katie: With the peak. Daniel: With the peaks. Katie: Yes. Daniel: And climate change is not eliminating cold snaps in the winter. So we still need-- we still have high peak demands for electricity during those cold snaps in the winter. Katie: Absolutely. We are in an extraordinarily challenging time. And, you know, I'm a-- I'm an optimist and I think my role in the utility has also led me to be a realist about some of the energy crisis that we are facing at this time. But I also, as an optimist, I always look for opportunity in these challenges. Daniel: Do you think you get some of your optimism from the fact knowing that Flathead Electric Co-op was created in a moment of great challenge and transition? Katie: You know, almost 100 years ago, we were-- we were in a transition. Right, that felt daunting. And that we banded together and formed co-ops. Daniel: A century or more ago when the Rural Electrification Act was passed. That was a time of great transition, too. Katie: Yeah. Daniel: Basically, no one in this area had electricity. There wasn't a grid. So we've overcome big infrastructural transitions like this before. Katie: We have. Yes. Our predecessors faced significant challenges in electrifying all of rural America. And I think, you know, that that movement really, you know, transformed our our nation and laid a groundwork for, you know, a lot of the prosperity that we enjoy today. And we are definitely sitting at the at the cusp of another of another challenging transition and a time that has potential to be, to be very transformative. Power and electricity, while it was, in the rural electrification times, it was very, very nice to have. Now it's, it's essential. It's an essential part of all of our lives. So we we have to find solutions to keep the lights on. You know, the closest that we've come in our region to not being able to keep the lights on -- and many other regions have already have already experienced rolling blackouts, right? That's what happens when you when you don't have the grid in balance. You either take a take a blackout, right, or you do rolling blackouts across an interconnected grid to balance loads. But the closest that we've come to not being able to to meet those reliability needs is during extreme weather events. And particularly when there is, like, a generating system down, right? So there was a weather event in 2021 where one of the main federal hydro systems was having some maintenance issues. And during that event, you know, we came very, very close to not being able to meet peak demands. We were pushed to the brink again, just here in this winter event that was, you know, a regional cold snap. We were pushing our our grid right up close to the to the edge. We're sitting here talking about it and everyone's like, "yeah, but it's fine. Like, it's been fine." And we're sweating [laughing] as the utility, because we've been working really hard to make sure it's fine. And I don't think we understand how close that we that we have come or could come in the case of an extreme weather event or a generation system going down or a transmission system going down or... Daniel: You're standing next to a cliff that you're looking at carefully. And most people are like, "what cliff?" Katie: Right. Exactly. Yes. And then in-- we're also looking at growth forecasts is in the, in the northwest the latest snapshots on the load and demand -- that's the growth that's being forecast -- is between 2024 and 2033. So, you know, more or less the next ten years or less. Is like an eight-- over 18% annual energy growth and a 15% demand growth. And those numbers are huge. Unprecedented. We haven't met growth numbers like that before. Daniel: You're describing a gap between the amount of electricity needed at peak times and the amount of electricity generated at peak times. Katie: And transmission. Daniel: Yeah. So it seems like you could try and solve that problem, overcome that challenge from two different directions. You could try and generate more electricity during peak times by building more solar or whatever. Or you could also try and solve that problem by reducing the peaks, getting people to use less electricity during the peaks, get it-- or getting them to use less electricity overall or less electricity at peak times and use it at different times. I suppose you're trying all of these things. Katie: Great point. Yes, we-- and we are trying all these things. In fact, in fact, Flathead Electric was just awarded a federal grant. It's called the CIDER Grant. And we're one of five co-ops in the nation who is in this national research study on how distribution co-ops can develop distributed energy programs to work with their-- work closely with their members to control loads during peak times, or incentivize their members to control loads during peak times to to help reduce that grid strain and hopefully reduce the amount of new generation transmission that needs to be built, right. So, you know, right now we are in the midst of an engineering study to look at which programs might work in our area. One of those programs might be working with people who have smart thermostats in their homes to reduce the, you know, the temperature settings by a couple of degrees if we're expecting a peak load event in the summer. Which brings down down our loads, brings on energy costs for everyone. Or in the winter, you know, as the case may be here. Another program that the co-op has has actually offered in the past is a similar program that reduces your water heating load during peak times, which, you know, is good from the standpoint that, of course, it reduces our system load, but it also reduces your own personal load at your home, so it reduces your monthly energy costs and people-- electricity costs, and people really like that. Daniel: Yeah. Katie: So it's kind of a win win some of these programs, right? And that's what we're starting to see more of on that, you know, that collaboration side is, yes, regionally collaborating, but also the utilities collaborating more with with their members, as we like to say, as, you know, more grid partners. Daniel: You're describing-- to me, it sounds like a lot of different ways of making the grid and the way we use electricity... making it smarter,. Katie: Smarter and more flexible. Daniel: This is something that utilities, I'm sure, have done for decades or the past century, is just charge more during peak times to try and get people to use less and spread their usage out more. Katie: Interestingly, yes and no. Daniel: Hm. Katie: I think Flathead Electric was probably one of the earlier utilities -- not that there weren't others out there that did that -- we we have historically charged more as you used more energy, right. So this is again, this is that difference between our overall energy, so overall kilowatt hours that you utilize in a month, versus what your peak load at your house was, right. So that demand. And historically we've charged more as you've used more energy as an incentive to for you to not use as much energy. But what we've started doing is actually less emphasis on that piece and more emphasis on what we're, what is called a demand charge, which is based on your your peak demand at your own house. What was your highest load that you hit during our peak hours when where we know when we're strained and we're paying more for power? You know, what was your contribution to that load? And then charging for that accordingly to try to help reduce those peaks. Because again, not-- you know, we're not facing the, the shortage of overall electricity. We're really right now, facing that shortage during those peaks. Which is why, you know, us as the utility or the co-op, you know, we pay more during our our system peaks. And so that really mirrors the way that we're paying for power, to charge our members that way. And it incentivizes them to, you know, make choices that are good for the overall grid as well. But what these these other programs that we're talking about do is add a layer to that, you know, that foundational rate design concept that hopefully makes it more meaningful or more achievable for them to take part in those programs and actually reduce their loads. Daniel: It's an interesting way to think about it that you're so concerned with peak loads rather than just average loads that your payment structure is actually designed for, that you're able to say like, it's not really about how much electricity you use overall, it's more about when you use it that we're concerned with. Katie: Right. Yes. Which goes right back into that generation conversation, right. The really-- the generation we're concerned about is the generation that can happen during our peaks. That's when we-- that's when we need it. That's when it costs everyone more for us to buy it, and that's when we need it. Daniel: If someone wants to pay a little bit less for their electricity, they should use their electric clothes dryer in the middle of the day or the middle of the night. Not use it during those peak load hours. Katie: Depending on how their utilities rates are structured. Daniel: Yeah. Katie: If they're a Flathead Electric--Electric member. Yes. [laughs] Daniel: And in the future, or even now, technologies that automate that will be really helpful in reducing peak loads. Katie: Yes. Daniel: Basically smart thermostats or just a dryer, clothes dryer, that's smart enough to know to run when there's less demand on the system. Katie: Yeah. And what most people now can really relate to is their dishwasher. Like that's the easy one, right? To me, you know, I'm a-- I'm a mom. I've got two young kids. I've got a full time job. It's really difficult for me to not do laundry when I need to do laundry at this point. But my dishwasher, that's an easy one because I can just set it to run four hours later. So I'm not hitting those peaks. Daniel: As long as they're clean when you get home... Katie: Yeah, as long as they're clean when I wake up, then I'm good. Daniel: What you're looking at, then it's just like, okay, well, how do we actually do that? Katie: Right? Yeah, it sounds great. And it is. But, but figuring out... Daniel: Is it something that the utility does? Is it something that the homeowner does? Is it something that the car does, or all three together? Katie: Like, there are all those options. Yeah. And then even from the utility perspective, is it something that like a regional entity does instead so that there's more of a regional spread, right? So Flathead Electric is a member of PNGC, which is a generation and transmission cooperative that has 18 other public power members throughout the Pacific Northwest. So they have more of a regional look at the grid. So does it make sense to do, you know, some of this load control at the regional perspective, or does it make sense for us as a utility to do it to help more control our distribution grid? So there's all of these questions and all of these considerations and factors that go into it. And then you get down to that more granular piece of, okay but how do we actually do it? Daniel: Yeah. Katie: What devices are we actually helping a member manage? How are we actually managing those devices? We're looking also at water heaters, we're looking also at generators, we're looking at battery energy storage systems and net metered systems. And, you know, there are all sorts of potential programs that we could be looking at. Daniel: And it's kind of an exciting area because it's all unknown. But one or a combination of these things will work. And the solution's there -- like it's, it's not as overwhelming as some of these other challenges we're talking about. Katie: Right. Daniel: That's cool. Daniel: Katie, maybe you can talk to us about kind of-- your predictions. The electrification of this region that started in the 1930s... it took decades. And now it's been growing into what it is over the past century. Now we're in the 2020s. What do you see for the rest of this century for electricity in this region? Katie: Diversification. For sure. Right? You know, as a utility, we're looking at where we can partner to build new generation resources, where we can partner to build transmission and distribution infrastructure that's going to be needed to meet our peaks. We are partnering more closely with members on what's called distributed energy resources. Right. And that's that would include things like, like solar panels that are on this building. But any resource that's distributed outside of the main grid, right, the main point of generation transmission to distribution. So smaller generation projects, you know, that we're seeing more and more of those, you know, those smaller local gen projects. And we're seeing more and more and more of our members become grid partners with us. And I don't really see a future where we don't have increased energy costs, unfortunately. And, you know, I think we'll see, you know, a grid that that hopefully becomes smarter and more able to incorporate, you know, more of those resources because we're going to have to I think we are going to need an all of the above approach to just to meet the load growth, right. Even if we weren't trying to replace a whole bunch of generation that that's set to retire. Daniel: You're describing a future that's more collaborative that-- where the "public" part of public power is, is more important. What should the average person listening to this-- what would you encourage them to do to get more involved? Katie: You know, I would encourage them to maybe go on a little bit of an educational journey. And at least have a better understanding of what happens when they flip the switch. Daniel: Basically, you're encouraging people to find out where their electricity is coming from. Katie: Yes. I think a lot of people in our area don't understand that they're served by an electric co-op or what that means or that, you know, their their heating is coming from natural gas. That's that's a different utility. And that their light switches and other appliances are being powered by electricity or that if they're outside of, you know, the city limits, maybe they are all electrically heated. And I don't think that... that mostly the general public has a great understanding of of that. And so I think that's a really, really good place to start is is kind of that like grid 101, right. That's where I would start, is just making sure that you have an understanding of what's happening in your own home and your own business. And where it's, you know, where it's ultimately coming from. And then I think you can start to kind of grasp that bigger picture. Daniel: Yeah, I like that you said, you know, start your education journey. Find out what happens when you flip the switch. And I can imagine a lot of benefit from people saying, okay, so I realize now my stove is natural gas. Katie: Yep. Daniel: It's wearing out. I need to upgrade it. Am I going to switch to electricity? There's a lot of climate and air pollution benefits to that. But maybe I should be thinking about efficiency. Maybe I should be thinking about how I'm powering that, you know, with a battery when the power goes out. Or with solar panels on my roof, or just thinking through some of these transitions from fossil fuels to electricity that are happening inside the home. Katie: Yeah. The reality is that you have more energy choices than ever, right. And our website's a great place to start. And even if you're not a member of Flathead Electric, you're welcome to use those resources. Daniel: So find out what electric co-op you might be part of, but also go check out Flathead Electric if you need help. Katie: Yeah, exactly. We try to be very careful to not be alarmist, but just be realistic about the challenges that that we're facing in hopes that our members will be better educated, that they will be better informed, and that they will take a little bit more active role in their in their co-op, in their energy future. And I think that that is that's one of the benefits of of the cooperative business model is that we are very focused in that way. Daniel: Yeah. That for better or worse, we're living through an era of big change. [chimey music begins to play] Katie: Yes. Daniel: And it's going to take all of us getting involved and paying attention to get through that. [beat joins in] Katie: Yeah, exactly. Daniel: Well, thanks so much for talking with us today on Headwaters. Katie: Sure. Thank you very much for having us. [song continues to play under the credits] Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives. From solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one, the Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at glacier.org. The Headwaters team includes Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, Madeline Vinh, Sophia Britto, and me, Peri Sasnett. That said, Headwaters wouldn't exist without friends like Lacy Kowalski, Grace Kinzler, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen and so many others. Our music is made fresh by Frank Waln, and the show's cover art was created by Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work with the links in the show notes. I recommend following both of them on Instagram. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can support us by leaving us a review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening! [music resolves and fades out]

  • Aug 20, 2024 · 10 min

    Bonus | How to Win at Glacier

    A lively debate between Michael Faist and Peri Sasnett about the best activities in Glacier, moderated by Sophia Britto. If you're planning a visit to the park, this episode might give you some ideas! Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org Frank Waln music: instagram.com/frankwaln Stella Nall art: instagram.com/stella.nall Glacier National Park: nps.gov/glac --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Sophia Britto: Our purpose is to tell unexpected stories about how Glacier is connected to everything else. But today's bonus episode will be a little different. Instead of telling a story, I'm hosting a debate between Michael and Peri about the best activities to do in Glacier. Michael Faist: Oof. [Gameshow music starts, then fades to background] Sophia: Hi, I'm Sophia, you're listening to. Headwaters, a podcast from Glacier National Park. Peri Sasnett: I'm Peri. Michael: I'm Michael. Sophia: Here in my hands, I have a ranger hat full of little pieces of paper with different activities you could do in Glacier National Park. Michael: Okay. Sophia: I will pull one of these pieces of paper, and on it will be an activity. And whoever speaks first, that's their stance. And the other person has to argue the opposite. Peri: Oh...okay. Michael: Here we go. Peri: Michael and I can get in a fight about anything. Michael: That's that's the easy part. It's winning the fight... that's the hard part. Peri: I'm ready. Sophia: So let's pull the first topic and get started. Michael: [Paper rusting sounds] Okay. Camping. [Electronic selection sound] Well, I love camping. That's my stance. If you come to a national park, odds are you're here to kind of disconnect from normal life. Unplug, so to speak. Sounds corny, [Peri laughs] but how often do you get to wake up with the sunrise, go to sleep at the sunset. Show off your ability, or lack thereof, to build a campfire. Have s'mores. It's just the perfect national park experience. Peri: Well, I hate camping. There are way too many bugs. Glacier can be very mosquito at certain times of year. Also, you say "great, you get to see the sunsets and wake up with the sunrise!" In Glacier, in the summer, that is too late and too early. You're not getting enough sleep and fundamentally you're paying someone to sleep on the ground. Hard pass. [Michael laughs] Sophia: I would give that one to Michael. I feel like bug spray is a thing. [Peri and Michael laugh] If I'm in my tent, I'm relatively safe from the bugs. I'm going to enjoy the great outdoors occasionally. I don't have to do it all the time. Michael: Okay. Peri: [Paper rusting sounds] All right. Floating slash tubing. [Electronic selection sound] Love it. Floating the stretch of Lower McDonald Creek from Apgar to West Glacier is right outside my house. And really easy to do after work. And I love that I get to see a part of the park that's right by my house, but from a totally different perspective than I would see it otherwise. Also, great birds. Michael: I hate floating and tubing because it requires you to have two different vehicles. You've got to put one in where you start, and you have to park one where you get out and you have to spend all that time, waste all that time, I would say, shuttling back and forth. Whereas hiking, you can start and end at the same place, no problem there. Loop hikes, there are not loop rivers. Anti floating. [Peri laughs] You're just baking in the sun the whole time. Sophia: Personally, I didn't grow up near rivers, so I am loving them here. So, I'm sorry Michael I have to side with Peri floating and tubing. That's pretty fun. Peri: Yes. Michael: This is too bad. All right... What's next. [Paper rusting sounds] Stargazing. [Electronic selection sound] Well, I love stargazing, and here's why: I don't know the names of almost any constellations, [Peri laughs] and that doesn't matter. I can pick out the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper. Beyond that, it's just like, Earth's screensaver. You could stare at it. It's mesmerizing. It's special to look for comments. It's... I mean, what's better than staring up at the night sky? Peri: Okay. Night skies. Thumbs up. Stargazing. Thumbs down. You have to stay up. Way too late. Here in Glacier. In the summer. It's not even fully dark till well after midnight. There's too much to be doing during the day. We don't have time to be stargazing at night. It's my bedtime. Michael: During the daytime that she's so excited about. It's been like, 95 degrees. Nighttime. Cool 70s. Beautiful skies. And also, coffee exists, so. Sophia: I'm siding with Michael here. Yeah. Love the stars here. You can see the Milky Way in Glacier National Park, which is pretty special. Yeah. Michael: I'm glad I drew first on that one. Peri: [Paper rusting sounds] Okay. Fishing. [Electronic selection sound] I don't have a lot to say about fishing. Those who've listened to Season Two will recall that the last time I went fishing, I was six and an alligator ate my bobber. [Michael laughs] So it's just adding work to another activity I'd rather be doing. Like I'm floating down the river on a boat? I just want to enjoy that. It feels like a lot of work to be sitting there, waving a fishing rod around. Or if I'm like, fly fishing, standing in the shallows. Like, I could just be swimming, or eating, or picnicking, you know? I don't need it. Michael: Well, I love fishing. It is one of the most meditative ways to gain a deep understanding of an ecosystem in Glacier. The park only encourages you to catch or touch one type of animal in the park, and it's fish. [Peri laughs] You're allowed to catch them. There are some that you aren't, but it's just such a unique experience in the park to be able to get to know the aquatic wildlife and have an excuse to just go stand in a river for two hours. Peri: Michael, how many times have you been fishing in Glacier? Michael: Twice. [Peri and Sophia laugh] Sophia: Maybe I need to become a fish girl. I've never been fishing before, which is surprising for being from Texas. But your arguments pretty convincing. Michael. I know you can find out more information about fishing regulations on our website, so if anybody else is interested in hopping on the fish train, check it out. Michael: Fish train! Peri: No. [Michael and Sophia laugh} Michael: [Paper rusting sounds] Driving Going-to-the-Sun Road. [Electronic selection sound] Big fan. Love it. I mean, it's like the ultimate experience here, it's the experience that put Glacier on the map for people to come visit. It's where I would say 90% of the pictures of the park come from, is from driving Going-to-the-Sun, maybe 75. Peri: Mmm... And that is because you get to witness three different distinct ecosystems in one two-hour drive. You get to have incredible wildlife sightings from the safety of your vehicle, from bears, to bighorn sheep, mountain goats. You get to drive to over 6600ft. What's not to love? Peri: Here's what's not to love: driving. What if you take a shuttle so you don't have to drive Going-to-the-Sun Road? You can see all those things, but you can spend way more time actually looking at them. Instead of having to spend all that thought and energy looking at the road, avoiding other cars and said, bighorn sheep and mountain goats. And if you just sit on a shuttle, and let someone else do the driving, you can appreciate the scenery. Its type one fun. There you go. Sophia: Honestly, the shuttle sounds pretty nice to me. Or being a passenger, I would say. Yeah, I'm siding with Peri on this. [Peri laughs]. Michael: Dang it! Peri: All right. [Paper rusting sounds] One more... Birding! [Electronic selection sound] I love birding. I love trying to figure out who they are, what they look like, who's singing and... you may not get to see a grizzly bear when you come here. I'm sure you won't see a mountain lion. I'm. A few of you might... But I never have. But almost everywhere you go in Glacier, you'll find birds. You can come at any time of year and see birds. And especially if you come in the spring. They're constantly singing and calling and just making this place richer and more beautiful. Michael: Well, here's my hot take on birding. [Peri laughs] I love birds. I mean, they are the soundtrack to our mental image of nature itself. But as you said, they are everywhere. I could see birds where I grew up in Ohio, and I can ID them and have a very similar experience. If I wanted to see a grizzly bear, I'd have to go to the zoo. So, birding in Glacier? It's fun to hear birds as you go out and hike, but it's not an activity in its own right. Birds are the background to experiences you could only have here, and that people are coming from across the country to have because they can't have it at home. So that's that's my hot take on birding. Peri: I'm never taking you birding again. [Michael and Sophia laugh] Sophia: Honestly, Peri, your passion for birding speaks to me. There's hundreds of birds you could see here, and that's a very special experience. So, I have to side with Peri here, Michael. Michael: Okay. I disagree, but it has been decided. [Peri laughs] Peri: It's okay. I won... you... just accept it. [Gameshow music starts, then fades into background] I feel like we covered a lot, but there are so many other activities that we didn't talk about. Michael: What's another activity? Peri: I would say berry picking. Michael: Yeah. Peri: I love picking huckleberries. Michael: Classic. Peri: It's an iconic part of a Glacier summer... just wouldn't be the same without it. Michael: If you are trying to plan a trip to Glacier and interested in what sort of activities you can find here, check out our website at nps.gov/GLAC and it can help you plan a great trip. Sophia: We're hard at work on the next season of Headwaters. Stay tuned for bonus content like this and more episodes about your favorite national park. Peri: Headwaters is made possible with support from our nonprofit partner at the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We are so grateful for all that they do for us. Check them out at Glacier.org. And if you have a moment to leave us a review and your podcast app, that helps us so much. Thanks for listening. Michael: You know, one activity we missed? Peri: Hm? Michael: Podcasting. [Peri laughs] I mean, there are more activities here than we could cut up and put in a ranger hat. I like them all. Peri: Me too. Despite everything that we just said.

  • Aug 2, 2024 · 41 min

    Climate and Living with Fire with Jennifer Gibson

    A conversation with Jennifer Gibson, who coordinates post-wildfire response for the National Park Service. This episode was recorded in May 2024. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Gaby Eseverri, Peri Sasnett, and Madeline Vinh. Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Climate change in Glacier: www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/climate-change.htm Whiskeytown National Recreation Area: www.nps.gov/whis --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: This is Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. My name is Peri, and I find the ecology and politics of wildfire endlessly interesting. However, I also recognize that wildfire can be challenging and scary to live with, and at times even deadly. And all of this is made worse by a warmer climate. For this episode, my co-host Daniel interviewed Jennifer Gibson in the spring of 2024. She's the post-wildfire coordinator for the National Park Service. She tells a gripping, emotional, and frankly stressful story about when the park unit she was working at burned almost entirely in a matter of days during the 2018 Carr fire. You probably remember hearing about that fire on the news, and just for clarity, it spelled C-A-R-R, not like a car that you drive. That fire eventually burned 230,000 acres and killed eight people. [mellow beat begins to play] And this story is not as unique as you might think. In 2022, 95% of Sunset Crater National Monument burned. That same summer, a wildfire burned over 95% of Bent's Old Fort National Historic Site. A year later, three national parks in the famously wet Pacific Northwest all had their largest fires on record: Olympic, North Cascades and Redwood. So this conversation is about one person surviving a deadly wildfire. But it's also about how the National Park Service is surviving in a new reality of wildfire, accelerated by climate change. [beat plays for a few seconds and resolves, marking a transition into the interview] Daniel Lombardi: Jennifer Gibson, welcome to Headwaters. Thanks for coming on. Maybe start with just telling us what's your job. Jennifer Gibson: Hi. Thanks for having me. My job now is the National Park Service's post-wildfire programs coordinator. So I'm based out of the National Interagency Fire Center. My job now is to assist and help parks in recovering from wildfire. And that's essentially overseeing the Burned Area Emergency Response program. Daniel: What did-- what was your title during the Carr Fire at Whiskeytown National Recreation Area? Jennifer: The Chief of Resources and Interpretation. Daniel: We're talking specifically about the Carr Fire in Northern California. But this story, as dramatic and shocking as it is, it could very easily happen pretty much anywhere in the American West. Of course, it could happen here in Glacier National Park. Obviously, we have big wildfires here, but the kind of unprecedented, fast moving and property and life threatening wildfire that you're describing, there's no reason that couldn't happen here in Glacier. Jennifer: Yeah, it can happen in Glacier. It can happen in North Cascades. You know, it could be another Whiskeytown or, some parks are burning down, like 70% of Lassen Volcanic National Park burned in the Dixie Fire, 80% of Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation burned in the Woolsey Fire. Look at Lava Beds. So 70% of Lava Beds burned in 2020, the remaining 30% burned in 2021. Daniel: And we're not necessarily pinpointing any one of these fires and saying this is, this burned the way that it did because of climate change. But larger, more frequent, more intense wildfires is exactly what we expect in a hotter climate that we now have. Jennifer: Yeah, Whiskeytown had the hottest days on record and the lowest fuel moisture for 1000 hour fuels on record. It's not just one thing. When it comes down to it, it's this... Is it climate change or is it everything coming into an alignment with climate change as a contributing factor? And that could be a really dangerous combination, because I really don't think I don't think science is keeping up with the changing environment. I don't think our management and policy is keeping up with the changing environment. I feel like a bunch of us resource staff or park staff, all of us together, interpreters, whomever, facility managers, we're all standing here now in this age, 2024, and we're watching our parks rapidly change around us. Like, I think this cohort that we have now working in national parks, we are definitely challenged with this whole new unexpected thing called climate change. And with that's intermixed with all these other factors. I feel like we're witnessing the change in our national parks. Daniel: Yeah. The entering, into a, not a new reality, but a, an unstable and ever-shifting reality. [beat plays to mark a transition] So Whiskeytown has kind of a funny name. What-- what is Whiskeytown, really simply? It's, it's a national recreation area, part of the Park Service. Jennifer: It is. It's a unit of the National Park Service. It follows the mission of the National Park Service. It is a recreation area, so it's really like the, it's like Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. It's really about recreation for the local visitors. Daniel: And living there for 20 years, it probably became like a pretty important place to you to. Jennifer: Yeah, I lived, one mile from the park boundary, so I had a really short commute. So my weekends, if I wanted to get a hike in, if I wanted to go botanizing, kayaking, I always went up to the park. The whole community loved Whiskeytown. Daniel: For someone who doesn't-- isn't familiar with Whiskeytown, one of the key features is a large dam and a reservoir, a huge lake right in the middle of the park unit. There's a lot of urban areas right next to the the park unit, and it's all a pretty mountainous, forested area. Jennifer: It is extremely diverse. It goes from 600ft in elevation, up to 6200ft in a really short distance. So it's really steep. So it goes from oak woodlands and grass up to subalpine fir, like Red Fir forest and montane chaparral. It has old growth forests and spotted owls in the higher elevations, but in the lower elevations it has chaparral and chamise and things that you would see at Santa Monica mountains. So that's one of the reasons why I love that park so much, because it was so incredibly diverse. Daniel: It's basically like all of California smushed into one park unit. Jennifer: Yeah, totally. And it was great. Like really crazy biotic assemblages living together in the same location, like Pacific giant salamanders and whiptail lizards, like something from a, Pacific Northwest meets the desert, you know, in the same campground. So it's, it's a really cool place, but it has waterfalls, lots of biking trails, lots of hiking trails, kayaking. It's-- it's a really nice place. Daniel: So we're going to talk about what happened at Whiskeytown in 2018, which was a big wildfire. Just big picture, this was one of the larger fires in California history. What's wild is it's moved down a lot of notches on that records list since then. But this happened in 2018 and it burned-- this is in Northern California around the town of Redding. When did the Carr Fire start for you? Jennifer: It started the day of initial attack in July 2018. It was hot. We were on the, I think, July in Redding and Shasta County, we were at, triple digit weather, like, it was hot even for Redding for July. About 1:00, 1:30, we heard over the radio that there was a fire near Carr Powerhouse Road, which is next to our historic district, the Tower House Historic District, which is like a concentration of your most important cultural resources, layers of history there, prehistoric, historic. Daniel: So it's July 2018. The temperatures are getting up into the low 100 degrees. It's very hot. I'm imagining it's not cooling off a whole lot at night. Jennifer: I think it was like 113, 114, we were bumping up against the highest temperatures ever recorded in the park. Daniel: Wow. So it's very hot, very dry. And you hear on the radio, okay, there's a fire. And I bet-- I'm guessing that at that point that wasn't unusual. You've heard a lot of fires come in over the radio, maybe even some that summer. And so you go to check it out. At that point, everything feels routine, I guess. Jennifer: Yeah. No, we -- it was something we do regularly, like, you know, there's fire. We could stand on the highway, tie in with the duty officer, make sure, you know, just be there if they need information, not get in the way. We give them advice if they need it. This is what we do. But this one just went completely sideways. Seeing fire taking off so... spreading so rapidly and erratically, the weirdest thing that I saw was fire zipped around a hillside sideways. Like fire goes uphill, right, naturally, and it follows winds. And it wasn't really that windy out, but it went around sideways, and I'm like, well, that's really weird. And then the fire spotted into this historic orchard where we have these really old orchard trees that were planted in the 1800s so they're unique heirloom varieties. And all of a sudden I started watching them burn and I'm like, oh my God, it's like 20 years of restoration, if not more, trying to save these orchard trees and stabilize them, and we've been working so hard, and we'd just grazed this whole area with goats to keep the weeds down and for fire suppression. And I was standing there on the highway going like, is this really happening? And then it burned down a historic structure that we just restored. And then it spotted behind me on the other side of the highway where that historic house is. It's one of the oldest homes in Shasta County. This was not ever something I could fathom happening at such a rapid pace. And there's water drops, dozers are being pushed, helicopters were overhead... And yeah, within the, the first couple hours it was completely chaotic, like there was nothing we could have done to stop that fire. I think the hard part was, there was a seasonal, she was screaming into the radio, like, "somebody get my therapy dog!" And we're like, oh my god, her therapy dog's in park housing, which is up the canyon. And two of the guys I work with, they went up there, kicked the door down, grabbed the dog -- they got the therapy dog right before the building burned down. And it was it was really, really intense -- like, all the things that I could never, ever wrap my head around were happening so fast. And that was the first hour of the Carr Fire. I'm not proud of a lot of the decisions that I made, but I never thought I would be pushed into making rapid fire decisions like this. Daniel: So right away, one of your biggest concerns is that because of where the fire starts, some historic buildings, some Indigenous archeological sites, you know, a historic orchard, and park housing, you know right from the start that all of those are threatened by this fire. And so you're making calculations and decisions about how to protect those resources from the very start. Jennifer: Yep. Yeah. Correct. Daniel: And some of those choices are hard. Like, I imagine when you're fighting fire, you don't usually want to just, send the bulldozers and all the heavy equipment in right away, because those are obviously destructive in their own way. But if it's a choice between bulldozers or burning up in a fire, you pick the bulldozers. And so that was one of the first hard choices you have to make, it sounds like. Jennifer: Yeah, so in urban interface parks like Santa Monica Mountains and Whiskeytown, you know, working with bulldozers is a part of, of life. Like you, you have to accept some level of impact to protect communities. So it's-- it's life and property first. More wilderness parks, you know, like parks with sequoias, it might be... life and sequoias might be your priority. Daniel: That's the kind of decision that you're actually probably used to making. You've been around fires you, and usually you have hours, if not days, to kind of think through the balance between bulldozers and letting a certain area burn or not, like there's usually more time. But in this case, it went from thinking about those questions to then almost instantly it just being about putting the fire out as fast as possible because things were burning so fast. Jennifer: Yeah. No, the whole park burned in three days, three operational periods. We lost structures, park housing, infrastructure, the community on of French Gulch lost homes, the community of Old Shasta was wiped out, the um, Keswick was wiped out like, by the F3 fire tornado went through Keswick, and then the west side communities. It was completely devastating. And then never could have imagined a F3 fire tornado going into a community, a town where there's homes and a Chase Bank, you know? [laughs in disbelief] So that's unimaginable to me. But again, you know, keep in mind also that the Carr Fire was just, what was it, 4 or 5 months right before the Camp Fire and the Woolsey Fire. And these were other destructive fires. And the Camp Fire was far more destructive than the Carr Fire. So the Carr Fire should have been a wake up call for everybody else. But it caught those communities off guard, too. Daniel: Yeah. So you said that those first few hours were a literal whirlwind. What happened next? Jennifer: You know, I had to regroup with my staff. And almost everybody is a qualified and experienced Resource Advisor. So they knew-- they're experienced with fire, they knew what to do. They put on their Nomex and-- but for some reason, throughout the fire, like we kept thinking that we would catch it. Because resources were not limited, like there were no other fires going on in the area. So Redding has like, you know, you have Cal Fire, you have Redding smokejumpers, hotshots, Forest Service, you have all these resources right there in Redding. And so when resources aren't limited, you know, you kind of think like, well, you know, you can throw the world at this thing and we can get it out. But we did. We threw the world at it. And it was we could not put that fire out. And, we launched dozers immediately. And I kept thinking to myself, like, well, we'll catch it, we'll catch it. And, it ended up like each time we, we couldn't catch it. And, we were completely shocked. And I was just completely like, each time I went home, at the end of the day, I'm like, I should start making piles to evacuate, you know? So I would make piles and, but I'm like, "we'll catch it. This can't be." And it was this, state of disbelief, I think. But, I think the third night, about 10:00 at night, I had a coworker call me, and he's like, Jen, you have to go to Whiskeytown Dam. You have to see this. And, I'm like, "it's 10:00 at night. It's hot out, like what's happening?" So I drove up to the park and went to the dam, and there was like hundreds of people on the dam, visitors like-- and they're all out there watching the fire blow up, and it's nighttime. So this is when you have-- the humidity's supposed to go up. Fire behavior is supposed to go down. You're supposed to have some nighttime recovery. But it was still really hot. It was probably like 110 at night. And the fire was plume-dominated fire behavior at night. Like it was behaving like it was three in the afternoon. And my neighborhood was quiet, and I made some piles. I called my neighbor, I'm like, "hey, you guys should think about making piles. I don't-- I think we got another day or so to evacuate. But, you know, this isn't looking good." And I went to sleep and then, about two in the morning, a friend of mine, he's working dispatch for the park, he called me. It's like-- so nobody shows up. You don't get a sheriff doesn't knock on your door. This guy called me and says, "Jen, you need to evacuate now." And I went outside and it was like, a war zone. And there's, like, embers raining down. I could hear propane tanks blowing up. The lights were flickering and the sky was, like, seething. Like like somebody was using a massive giant bellows to just stoke the fire because the whole sky was covered with smoke and this weird orange haze. But it was just like going up and down, and I was like, what the hell's happening? Called my neighbors, they're like, "we're packing." And, then I just grabbed all that I could, and, and my chimes were like, ding ding ding ding ding ding ding, just the chimes hanging on the deck were just, like, going in circles. It was really bizarre. I went inside, I said goodbye to my house, said goodbye to my house plants. Which is a really weird thing to do. I watered them all and I'm like, "I'll be right back, guys, hang in there." And I thought my house would make it. I really did. And at this time I'm really worried about park staff because I, you know, we already lost seasonal housing and I'm like, where is everybody? You know, it's four in the morning. I called her administrative officer. She's like, "I got tabs on everybody. Don't worry. Just get out of there." So my dog and I, with my great grandmother's table, evacuated to a motel. You know, leaving the driveway, I said goodbye to my neighbors and hugged them and showed up at a Motel 6 in Redding and-- with a bunch of other disheveled people, like at four in the morning, just like they're in shock, you know? And I know that they just evacuated. So we were all checking into hotels. So at this point, a significant portion of the west side of Redding evacuated to the east, to evacuation shelters, friends homes, you know, motels. But, you know, we thought that like, you know, maybe everything was going to be okay. You know, maybe the house will make it. You know, "I've been burning piles around my house. It's in good shape, it'll make it." It is just being in a state of shock. Daniel: Wow. Over the course of those first few days then the fire, you know, is potentially moving towards your own home and you're in a state of kind of disbelief that it could burn your own home. Jennifer: Yeah. We evacuated the north side of the park where the fire was. But on the south side of the park we still had visitors. We still had people in park housing. But we thought there was no way the fire was going to cross the lake. Well, sure enough, there was a fire, mini fire tornado or vortex set up, and it lay down horizontally across the ground, according -- I wasn't there -- and spotted across the lake. So this launched a massive evacuation on the south side of the lake of people that were camping and on that side and park housing units. And this was important because I to me, a lot of the law enforcement personnel, a lot of us lived in Old Shasta. We lived on the boundary of the park. They had to make a choice between evacuating, helping their-- their spouses and families evacuate, and they had to make the choice to evacuate visitors. So I think that was really hard on a lot of those emergency responders being at that point. And then they had to clear all those people off the dam who were watching this. It was, again, you know, we never knew this would happen. Yeah. Daniel: So we talked about, those first hours, we talked about the intensity and challenge of the first few days, and then how on the third and fourth day, people are evacuated, housing is being burned down, and there are vortexes of fire, basically conditions so hot and intense that there's tornadoes made of flames burning and spotting across the entire lake. And the fire is beyond apocalyptic. It's it's really into something new. Jennifer: When I evacuated the motel, it was, you know, you didn't sleep. You know, you show up at your motel at four, you're like, what is happening? And then, that morning was all about like, "where-- where are the interns? Where are the seasonals? Are they okay?" We got them into hotels. Like, where is everybody on the west side of Redding? Like, you know, people that live there. Is everybody okay? So the park's in a shambles. And I heard that the fire had passed through my neighborhood, but my house had made it and my neighbor's house hadmade it. And I was like, "all right, I did it! You know, like, all my fuels treatments, weed whacking, all my work, you know, I was like, I knew it, I knew I could make it." And so that day was really about sitting and waiting, having park meetings, seeing where everybody's at and trying to get an Incident Management Team in to help, and watching the news and texting. So there's like group texts of park staff going back and forth. And, and it wasn't until like the evening, like the fire activity picked up again and the lights in the motel started flickering, you know, and then the power went off, and I'm like, oh my God, what the hell's happening out there? And I went to another location I saw that had power and air conditioning. And I was watching the news and I could see-- and there's my neighborhood, like where my house is, my neighbor's house is -- it's a crown fire. And people are texting me like, "Jen, your your street's on fire on the news" and the local State Parks superintendent, she's out there hosing down State Park, you know, buildings. And it was pretty traumatic. And people had to evacuate a second time in Redding. So this was another wave. So people in evacuation centers had to evacuate, people in homes that evacuated. So people had to evacuate the second time, I had to evacuate a second time. And that's one of my lessons learned. If you evacuate the first time, don't unpack, because you might have to evacuate the second time. And I got with my dog in my car, and I got on the I-5 and it was packed with people, like it was jammed. And I looked up and I could see that fire tornado. And that's when I really thought -- like it was totally irrational, like, but maybe I was just so exhausted, I had so much adrenaline in my blood, and I really thought that that tornado was going to get me. And I was stopped in traffic on the highway. And that's one of my things, you know, like I get stuck on a highway in traffic when a fire comes. And so I managed to get on an off ramp. And then going north on I-5 was a lot clearer. And I made progress. And I just kept driving. And each hotel they were were packed with people, like there was no vacancy, especially no dog friendly vacancy. So I just ended up driving all night. I drove all the way to Oregon, and it was on that drive that I found out that I lost my house. A firefighter checked on my property and he's like, "Jen, it's gone." And he sent me a text with a picture of it on fire. And, you know, it was good that he let me know. And I'm like, I was just in shock. So it was-- finally made it to Oregon, made it to a safe space. Daniel: Wow. So it only took a matter of days. But all of Whiskeytown National Recreation Area, this entire park unit, the whole thing burned, right? Jennifer: Yeah. 97% of the park burned. So the final statistics were 47 structures destroyed. A third of the park staff lost their homes. And then there was significant damage to the concessionaire operations and to a... we have an environmental school, an environmental camp. So all in all, the Carr Fire was 229,000 acres. 1604 structures were lost overall, and eight fatalities. Daniel: So I'm guessing then the next several weeks were a continued state of anxiety and chaos for you. But of course, it doesn't end there. A lot of your work, I think, then was on the aftermath of the fire and, okay, what happens now that the fire's out? Jennifer: So the hard thing is that when you have a fire in your park, you're going to sprint. Like you're going to sprint as hard as you can, and you're going to run as fast as you can. But there's like a finish line. You know, it's like you're gonna just -- you're going to just exhaust yourself to that finish line. Once you cross that finish line, the post-fire world is a marathon. Whiskeytown has significant infrastructure. We have the dam infrastructure with Bureau of Reclamation. We have the telecommunications site for the sheriff's office at the top of the peak, highest mountain. And then we had, a major highway goes through the middle of the park. And then we have Pacific Gas and Electric. So we had all these power lines, we have all this infrastructure, and they all had to get online. And to do that we needed to be Resource Advisors again. Even though it's an emergency, you need some level of compliance a little bit, you know, to make sure there's no prehistoric site there you know. You know, I just-- my first day back after I found out my house burned and we had a meeting of the archeologists, myself, and our acting superintendent. And here's this room full of engineers, you know, highway engineers, there's like 25 of them, and they're like, "we've got X amount of million dollars to install these structures to protect our highway, and you guys need to do the compliance." [laughs incredulously] So it's like, so we, we we really kept going and going and going. It was really hard to stop and process. Daniel: Yeah Jen, talk to me-- talk to me about the mental health impacts of going through something like this. For you, but for the, for the community and for the staff of a national park. What's that like? Jennifer: It's like the grief that keeps on giving. It's layers and layers of grief. It's grieving my house, my memories and my property that I love so much. Grieving my park and you know, the restoration, all that work put into that park and places that I loved. Grieving my community, my neighbors all moved away. Like grieving with them. You go to all their going away parties, and then you get tired of it. And then park staff start to leave, so you're you're going to they're going away parties. [laughs] And everybody processes it very differently. And that has to be okay. Like, I, saw some people got very emotional right away and they wanted to talk to CISM right away. I couldn't talk to the Critical Incident Stress Management people because I felt like if I took that moment, I wouldn't be able to put myself back together again and keep going. I had to keep going. And we were so busy with trying to get power up and internet up and back in our offices and, utility companies and get the BAER implemented, it-- it took us until we got a superintendent, a permanent superintendent showed up, and he was like, "wow, this-- these people need help." And so he got-- he called EAP, Employee Assistance Program, and he got a clinical psychologist to come and talk to us as a group. And it was like the first time in nine months -- nine months -- that we all sat together as a, you know, employees, and talked it out. And she got up there and she was like, "well, all the other agencies like Cal Fire, the Sheriff's Department, PG&E, all these different entities and agencies, they got employee assistance like the week after the fire. Why did it take the National Park Service nine months? And we were ground zero. We were the most impacted. So that was I think a real important point to me is, you need to get that help in soon. Daniel: You know, one thing that struck me that you said was that it felt out of control, it felt chaotic, and that maybe even you're not proud of all of the decisions that were made, but that that is the result of the chaos in a moment of such intensity like that. Maybe that's one of the lessons that you have taken from the fire in general, is what's possible in those first intense hours. Jennifer: We were completely caught off guard. And I don't know if it's complacency, like, you know, you know your park, you know your ecosystems, you know your fire, and you think you know what's going to happen. But it's one of those situations where everything went sideways, like what you knew was no longer reality. And that, to me, is a really good lesson learned. And it translates well over to other parks where, some parks have been doing fire/climate scenario workshops, where they're trying to really think like, what is the worst thing? And the worst thing that can happen, like happened to them that year. Like Lassen had the Dixie fire, Sequoia has lost 20% of their monarch sequoias. Like these things are happening this year, not 20 years out. And so the Carr Fire to me was the worst thing that could happen. Like it was unimaginable, not even 20 years out. It would be like, oh God, I couldn't even fathom having this happen to my park. But it did. It happened in 2018. And that's one of the things that's consistently happening in national parks with not only just fire, but other climate-related disasters. We're completely being caught off guard time and time again. Daniel: Wow. In your most climate apocalyptic vision of the future, you never thought that the Carr fire could happen. Like it-- that was that was your worst case scenario, darkest imagination of what the future might be. And then it actually happened. Jennifer: You can see, like what's happening in Yosemite National Park, where there's actually parts of the park that's type converting due to the frequency of fire. And what happened at Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks is also really relevant in that, you know, I think they did climate/fire scenario planning in the late 2000s, maybe 2018, 2017. I'm not sure of the year. But again, they did that thing of "what's the worst thing that can happen to the sequoias? You know, they're pest resistant. They're fire resistant. What's the worst thing that can happen?" And it was like, "well, they become susceptible to pests, and then they become susceptible to fire." And then sure enough, you know, they had the Castle Rattlesnake Complex, I think 2020, I believe. And that took out a significant portion of the large monarch sequoia trees. And then they were like, oh my God, we gotta do something. And then in 2021, they didn't have a chance to strategize, come up with a plan. In 2021, it took out another big chunk of large monarch sequoia trees, which are supposed to be fire resistant. And so 20% of the large trees are dead, like they're a thousand year old trees. And they've survived tons and tons of fire, and we're watching them just disappear. So the park is taking some radical actions. They're being really proactive, and they're really trying to hold the ground on the remaining sequoias. And I'm really-- and so is Yosemite, with their groves. Daniel: So this is a case study of these, just the really big sequoia trees. And people didn't think they were susceptible to wildfire because they have such thick bark and they're adapted to it. But now we're seeing with climate change, the conditions are just different that the fire is happening in. And it turns out these big trees, they can be susceptible to wildfire. And in recent years they have been and they have been lost. Jennifer: Yeah. And it's, you know, two years. Like, you know, 2020-2021. Like that's a short time frame to come up with a quick strategy. All right Park, what are you going to do? [laughs] How are you going to hold the line and save the rest of them? You know it'd be nice if you had ten, twenty years to develop a plan and a strategy. But parks are having to pivot pretty quickly and decide what ecosystems, what resources are priorities, what are they going to save and what can you save and then what you can't. So similar to like, probably like glaciers. What can you do? Daniel: I mean, it sounds like the advice you would give is that like, you're trying to tell people this is a wake up call. Everyone needs to be paying attention and ready to move way faster than they think they need to move. What-- I mean, is there other advice, or is there another lesson that has come across in watching these fires for you? Jennifer: To me, I-- after the Carr Fire, like I had this sense of panic and urgency where I want to see, you know, people take fuels reduction and defensive space seriously. It's been hard because after going through something like that, oftentimes people perceive you as being like, "well, she's been traumatized. You know, like this is just her processing." I'm like, no, like I think the Park Service needs to invest in preparedness, response and helping parks recover. We have great people working in preparedness, but it's typically in law enforcement or in fire. But it needs to be an interdisciplinary approach. And I'm a fan of facilitated scenario planning workshops where everybody's at the table and you run through scenarios of it, whether it's flooding or fire or whatever. You run through scenarios to make sure you have evacuation plans. You figure out where the gaps are in your plans, and your weaknesses, and you address them. And then make sure you're all on the same page with your priorities. Like if if you did have to evacuate your park. And again, it has to be top down and a priority from your superintendent, all the way up to your regional director and the director. I think another thing parks can do is invest in your Resource Advisor program. If you care about your natural and cultural resources in your park, and you're a fire park, or have the potential of fire, the best thing you can do is get your staff trained, send them out, get them experience. If you talk to these people that have gone through the Camp Fire, or firefighters who have seen fire severity change across the West, I'm sure they will say the same thing. It's just like, I feel like it's Groundhog Day, right? Like park after park is just-- we're doing the same thing every day. Are we getting more prepared? Are we getting better at responding? We need definitely need to get better at helping parks recover. But I don't, you know-- we need to start moving in those directions a lot quicker. Daniel: This should be a wake up call. They should be expecting the worst case scenario. Jen, I'm curious if you feel like you're healed, if you have fully processed the Carr Fire, or if that's an ongoing thing. And then I'm also curious if, you know, helping other parks and talking to other parks about their intense fire experiences, if that's been a helpful process or, or not so helpful in your own kind of coming to terms with with wildfire. Jennifer: I think trauma is a bad thing in general, but it's made me wiser or wary. I'm all about being prepared. And going through any sort of traumatic event, it could be like a loss of a loved one, you know, or, whatever it may be, it's horrid, absolutely horrid. But there are moments of beauty and love intermixed, which makes it a really complex emotion. So the strong bonds that I formed with the staff at Whiskeytown going through this with them will always, forever be there. My neighbors and my community, they will always be my neighbors. We'll always reach out to each other. We always send Christmas cards or holiday cards. We're always there for each other. We have this common bond now that we went through something and we made it together, and I think that's the beauty in it. [beat begins to play] Daniel: Jennifer Gibson, thanks so much for sharing your story. This has been really valuable. Jennifer: Yeah, thanks you guys for doing this. I'm so impressed. And thanks for listening. [music plays under the credits] Peri: We spent most of this episode talking about a national recreation area in California; Whiskey Town. They have lots more details about fire and climate change on their website, nps.gov/WHIS you can learn more about fire and climate change on Glacier’s website too, nps.gov/GLAC. It is worth underlining how easily this story could be about any other national park, including Glacier. Wildfires burn here almost every single summer—most recently, we had quite intense fire seasons in 2015, 2017, and 2018. Famously, the Sprague fire burned down part of the beloved Sperry Chalet in 2017. A key partner in helping rebuild the Sperry Chalet was our non-profit partner, the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Beyond fire, the Conservancy helps Glacier with many sustainability efforts: from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one, the Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gabi Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Jul 3, 2024 · 6 min

    Bonus | Visiting Glacier in Style

    Planning a trip to Glacier and don't know what to wear? We've got fashion tips for you, along with the latest news from the park. Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org Frank Waln music: www.instagram.com/frankwaln Stella Nall art: stellanall.com --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy: Headquarters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri: Welcome to Headwaters. I'm Peri. Madeline: And I'm Madeline. Peri: Headwaters is a science and history show about Glacier National Park. And this is a special bonus episode for those of you considering coming to the park this summer or fall. And today we have for you a series of breaking news headlines, each followed by some fashion advice from Madeline. Madeline: That's right. Peri: We should just play the little like breaking news. *Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun* [Newscaster music starts] Going-to-the-Sun Road is open all the way to Logan Pass. And do remember you need a vehicle reservation if you're coming in from the west side between 6 a.m. and 3 p.m. Madeline, what fashion advice would you give to someone driving the road? Madeline: I think people hear "driving," and they're like, all I need are my driving flip flops, what they don't think about is you're going to want to get out of your car. At least once I'd say. Peri: At least once. Madeline: Statistically. Peri: Probably. Madeline: So pack your hiking flipflops as well. Peri: Great advice. Madeline: Thank you. Peri: All right. [Newscaster music] As of July 3rd, the Highline Trail is not open. The upper half of the Grinnell Glacier Trail is also not open, and something to keep in mind is that even trails that are open, anything at high elevation you may encounter snow, including on the trail to Hidden Lake Overlook. Snow is always wet. It's always cold. It can be pretty slippery or even dangerous, so keep that in mind for at least a few more weeks if you're hiking in the park. Madeline, what do people need if they're hiking on snow? Madeline: I have two boxes in my head. I've got waterproofing and traction. There's a lot of ways to accomplish that. Maybe hiking boots. Peri: Sure. Madeline: If you don't have hiking boots, maybe you have grocery bags and soccer cleats. Why not combine those? So put those grocery bags on your feet. Put those feet in your soccer cleats. Suddenly you're checking those boxes. Peri: I love that. It's very childhood snow day chic. [Newscaster music] The free shuttles are up and running for the season. You can take the shuttle bus instead of driving, and you don't need a vehicle reservation for that. And you can stop at a bunch of different places along going to the town road. Do expect the shuttles to be full and busy, though. They're quite popular. Madeline, what should people consider wearing for the shuttle bus? Madeline: The tagline for that whole experience is see and be seen. There are strangers around you. Suddenly you're part of the attraction of the road. If that is something you care about, just wear your favorite outfit. Peri: Totally. [Newscaster music] In other news, park lakes are open to paddling. Lake McDonald, Bowman, Kintla, Two Medicine are all open to personal non-motorized watercraft if you get them inspected before heading out to prevent the spread of aquatic invasive species. Some park lakes are also open to motorized boats, but those require more extensive inspection. Madeline. What fashion advice do you have for people doing paddling? Madeline: Everyone knows that you're on water. I don't think enough people are thinking about water getting on you. So maybe think about a poncho. Peri: Love a poncho. Madeline: Preferably clear, so that others can see your life jacket and be inspired by your sartorial example. Peri: Love that. [Newscaster music] The longest running Indigenous speaker series in the National Park Service is in full swing for the summer. That means almost every night somewhere in the park one of Glacier's Tribal partners is giving a public presentation for free. Madeline, what do you wear when you go to an NAS program? Madeline: I want to be able to focus, so bug protection is top of mind for me. Peri: Yes. Madeline: This is the time for a head to toe bodysuit. Pull that out of the back of your closet. If you don't have that, bug net over a wide brimmed hat. Ankle protection. Close toed shoes. Peri: Yes. Protect the hands and feet. Madeline: The probisci of the mosquito here? They're strong and they're long. [Peri laughs] And you don't want that getting anywhere near your skin. Peri: That's great advice. Madeline: Thank you. Peri: Finally, our last headline. [Newscaster music] The fishing season is open for summer 2024. Within park boundaries, you do not need a fishing license, but there are still a variety of rules and regulations, so be familiar with those. And remember that all native fish you catch have to be released. Madeline, what's your fishing fit? Madeline: All right, I've gone fishing twice, [Peri laughs] so I feel pretty qualified to talk about this. I've also seen lots of pictures of people holding fish. So from both those things, I'm going to say pockets. Peri: Like those vests with all the pockets. Madeline: Yes. Peri: Do you put the fish in the pockets? Madeline: Like, if you want to. I think that's... With pockets, you have options so you can put the fish in there. You can put snacks in there. You can put snacks for the fish in there. And then you also don't want to forget a big smile. That seems to be pretty key. Peri: The best accessory. Madeline: Yeah. So it's like people have a really big fish and then they have a really big smile. And... Peri: And the pocket. Madeline: They seem correlated. Yeah. Peri: Well, thanks for the advice, Madeline, and thanks everyone for tuning in. We have more bonus episodes coming soon, and we are also working on a new big season of Headwaters that will be released next year. Madeline: Headwaters is made possible by our partner, the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri: We could not do this without them, and if you want to help us out, you could leave a review in iTunes or your podcast app and share the show with your friends. Madeline: ITunes? Does that even exist anymore? [Newscaster music fades in] Peri: Yeah, maybe I'll say Apple. Madeline: Thank you for listening! Peri: And Happy Fourth of July.

  • May 31, 2024 · 13 min

    Bonus | Answering Your Questions

    A mini mailbag episode answering listener-submitted questions. Send us your questions for future episodes at glac_media_lab@nps.gov with the subject "Headwaters." Glacier Conservancy: glacier.org Frank Waln music: www.instagram.com/frankwaln Stella Nall art: stellanall.com --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Gaby Eseverri: [mellow beat playing] Hi, I'm Gaby. You're listening to Headwaters, a podcast from Glacier National Park. Daniel Lombardi: Hey, Gaby, I'm Daniel. Gaby: [laughs] Hi, Daniel. Daniel: And this is the mailbag or Q&A episode. We're answering questions. Gaby: Yeah. So listeners have provided questions for us over the last week or so. [music fades out] And I'll be asking you what the people want to know. Daniel: Oh, you're asking me? Gaby: I'll be asking you. Daniel: I'm not ready for this. Gaby: We're releasing bonus episodes this spring and summer to help visitors plan their trips to the park, or to just generally get a feel for what's going on. Daniel: What do you got for me? Gaby: What do you think was our most asked question? Daniel: I think the question that rangers get asked the most is where is the bathroom? But I bet you people want to know when is Going-to-the-Sun Road going to open for the summer. Gaby: Ding ding ding. Daniel: That's right? Gaby: Yeah yeah,. Daniel: Yeah. Everyone, everyone wants to know when is Going-to-the-Sun Road going to open for the summer because it feels like it's not summer till the sun road opens. Well, sorry, we don't have an answer. Gaby: We really don't know. We don't have any, like, further, more information than what you know. Daniel: I could say that it seems to usually open in June -- the roads crew are actively plowing it right now -- sometimes early July, but generally it's sometime in June. If it's like a low snow year and we don't have a whole lot of snow in the winter, then it opens in the earlier side of June. If it is a big snowy winter, then it's probably going to be later in June, if not early summer. Gaby: Or a rainy spring. Daniel: Yeah, spring weather matters a lot too. Yeah, yeah. Bad weather, avalanches, all that slows the work down. Gaby: Yeah. Hopefully it'll be open soon. I'm excited. It will definitely mark the arrival of summer. Angela says, can you just talk about beargrass? Daniel: I… I will try. Uh, beargrass is not a grass, it is a member of the corn lily family. I mean, it is a flower, basically. It has grass on the bottom, and what people love then is that every few years, each plant will shoot up a big asparagus- Dr. Seuss-type flower that looks like a giant q-tip, sometimes like 3 or 4 feet tall. Gaby: They don't pop up yearly, right? Daniel: Right. You know, as spring comes along like this, we're always like, is this going to be a big flower year? When was the last time we had a big bear grass year? But there's always there's always some bear grass and... Gaby: Yeah. Daniel: I love it. Gaby: I guess we'll see what this year looks like. [beat plays briefly] Sridevi asks, what are the places to visit without a vehicle reservation? That's a, that's a big one. Daniel: Yeah. So in 2024 you do need a vehicle reservation, but that's only to get into the busiest parts of the park during the busiest hours of the day in the peak summer season. So if you're visiting in the fall, you don't need to worry about it. If you like to get up early or drive into the park late, again, you don't need to worry about it. It's just for those peak hours. Now, also, it's not for every area of the park. In summer 2024, entering into Two Medicine or the east side of Going-to-the-Sun Road at St Mary. You don't need a vehicle reservation for those areas either. And I promise they are spectacular areas of the park. Gaby: Truly amazing. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, awesome. Hopefully that's helpful. And as always, check nps.gov/glac for more information and all of the details about vehicle reservation. [beat plays briefly] Claire wants to know, what's it like working for the park. You've been working for the park for seven years, right? Daniel: This park, yeah. I've made a career out of working for the Park Service, and I love it. The best part about working for the Park Service is that you are working in and getting to, you know, be a part of these amazing places. I love being a part of something that is like, iconic of our country and our landscape and a thing that we all share together. Working for the parks is amazing. I highly recommend it. Go to USAjobs.gov and watch for ranger postings. [beat plays briefly] Give me another one. Give me a hard one. Gaby: Okay. Olive asks, what are people most surprised about after visiting? Daniel: Maybe a big surprise is how cold and how like wet the weather can be, especially in the first half of summer. Gaby: Totally like in West Glacier or East Glacier it'll be beautiful and sunny, and then you go up to Logan Pass and it's snowing. Daniel: Like literally snowing. Yeah. The other thing I think that can surprise people about the weather is how in the second half of summer, how hot it can be. They'll be like, oh, it's Glacier National Park, it's the mountains. It'll be cool. But then they start going on a hike with one little water bottle and they're like, oh... Gaby: It's hot and. Daniel: It's over 90 degrees. And yeah, it's kind of humid. And yeah, it can get really hot. Gaby: Yeah. Last summer it hit 100. Daniel: Wow. Gaby: [beat plays briefly] So Jack has a question about construction. Daniel: Okay, Jack, here's the situation. In Montana, we have two seasons: winter and construction. Gaby: Ha ha. [sarcastic laugh] Daniel: Yeah. And here we are entering construction season. There's all kinds of jokes about this. You know, the traffic cones, that they put out around construction sites? Gaby: The bright neon orange. Daniel: I've heard people joke that that's, you know, Montana State flower. I think other states make these jokes, too. Gaby: Definitely, yeah. Daniel: But it's true, the window for construction in Glacier National Park is pretty small because we have such a long winter season, so you have to squeeze all the repair and update, you know, projects into a pretty narrow window. So you can hear the construction going on outside right now. There is construction going on in the park, a whole bunch of different areas, you know, they're working on bridges, they're putting in new sewer lines. Gaby: They're doing a lot of work. So it will most likely be a part of your visit. Yeah. Daniel: But if you're just flexible, like it shouldn't be a big deal. Gaby: Yeah. Not a big deal at all. Check nps.gov/glac for all of those construction updates and all those details as to where those projects are going to be. Daniel: Yeah, that's basically the answer to everything. Go on our website. Check it out. Yeah. Plan ahead. Gaby: [beat plays briefly] Okay. This is [laughs] maybe one of my favorite questions that we got. MissCurlyGirly asks, is the damage reversible? Daniel: This question is sort of silly and also like kind of deep, right, which is fun. Having no idea what curlygirly is actually asking about, I would say let's be optimistic. Let's envision a better future than the one we're living in, you know? Gaby: Totally. Daniel: The damage is reversible. We can fix things that are broken and we can... Gaby: Imagine better futures. Daniel: Absolutely. Gaby: [beat plays briefly] This is a little bit of a history question. Are you ready for this? Daniel: I'll give it a shot. Gaby: Zach wants to know, how did the whole Glacier-Waterton connection come to be? Daniel: Well, that is a good question. Basically, there was Rotary Clubs, these are like community social clubs, and they started talking about how these two national parks that share an international border could be and should be an example to the world about international peaceful cooperation. And they sort of developed the concept and everyone liked it, got behind it, and in the 1930s, the international, the world's first international peace park was born. Gaby: Glacier-Waterton. Daniel: Well, technically, it's Waterton Glacier International Peace Park. Gaby: And Zach, if you want to learn more, I would recommend going back to Season One and listening to the Goat Haunt episode where Michael and Andrew dive deeper into Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park. Daniel: Yeah, that's a good idea. I was I thought you were going to say go to the website. I'm like, oh, people are going to be tired of hearing that. Gaby: Oh no no, no. Daniel: Yeah. But it's so true though. Gaby: [beat plays briefly] I have three from Elizabeth. Daniel: [laughing] I didn't know three questions was allowed, but okay, let's hear them. Gaby: What do we do when we see fellow tourists not following Leave No Trace principles? Ooh. Daniel: Yeah, that's hard. I mean, it's not your job to police other people. That's said, I feel like if you have the social skills and the situation is... allows for it, find a way to be friendly and... Gaby: And be curious, yeah, I would say ask some questions before we make assumptions as to what people are doing or if they're doing something quote unquote wrong. Daniel: Yeah, yeah. I mean, if you see something dangerous or blatantly illegal happening, you should definitely tell a ranger. But trust that everyone's doing their best. Gaby: Totally. Daniel: And that being friendly goes a long way. Gaby: Absolutely. How do we convince people that nature is worth protecting as much as people? Daniel: That's a good question. I like that one. You know, people are nature. The national parks operate with the belief that a really important part about getting people to care about the world around them, and to care about this country's history and making the world a better place is learning and experiencing and making connections firsthand. So that is a really central part of the mission of the National Park Service is to give people an opportunity to come visit natural places like Glacier National Park and make those connections and realize why that's so important to protect and preserve and honor. Gaby: Yeah, totally. Okay. Elizabeth has one more question. Daniel: Oh is it, what's my favorite beetle? I knew it. Gaby: That's exactly right. Daniel: Mountain pine beetles. A natural insect that eats away at pine trees in the park. It's not good for those pine trees, but it's good for the ecosystem as a whole. And they're cool little beetles. Gaby: Are these the beetles on whitebark pines? Daniel: Pretty much every species of tree in the park has an associated species of beetle. So, yeah, whitebark pine included. Gaby: That's so cool. And if you want to know more about beetles or whitebark pine, you can go listen to Season Two of the podcast. Of course. Thanks, Elizabeth, for those questions. [beat plays briefly] Okay, so the next question is from Lane, who wants to know how has climate change impacted the way the park is managed? Daniel: Yeah, that's a good question. I mean, it's... it would actually probably be simpler to say how has climate change not impacted the way the park is managed, because it it infiltrates every decision made in the National Park Service at this point. There are broadly four big categories in how the National Park Service is responding to climate change. One is through communication. So just doing things like podcast episodes about, you know, educating on the topic. Then there's science. There are scientists actively studying how a shifting climate is directly impacting the resources or the plants, animals, history, culture and all of that. How that's being impacted. But then on top of communication and science, there is also a whole lot of adaptation work. Basically people studying and thinking about how, okay, we have more wildfire now because of climate change, how do we need to shift our response to wildfire in the face of that? Right. And then the fourth big area of the National Park Service's response to climate change is mitigation. And that means that we're trying to actively reduce the amount of greenhouse gases that are emitted inside the national park, reducing the amount of fossil fuels burned, stuff like that. Gaby: How are we doing that? Daniel: Putting solar panels on roofs, switching to more fuel efficient or zero emission vehicles, recycling, composting basically anywhere we can find ways to reduce the park's emissions, we're trying to do that. Gaby: And that's not just here, right? That's across the National Park Service. Daniel: Yeah, it's across the federal government in general. Gaby: That's great. How might visitors see and/or experience everything that you talked about? Daniel: Well, if you come to Glacier National Park in your electric vehicle, you can plug it in and charge it with pretty much renewable energy resources that we have here, with hydropower. You're going to see solar panels on the roofs of some buildings. But you're also going to experience the impacts of climate change. Almost inevitably, it gets a lot hotter here in the summers than it used to. We have a lot more wildfire smoke than we used to. Gaby: And of course, the namesake of this park. Daniel: Everyone wants to come and hike to a glacier, or take a look at the glaciers as they melt. So that's a big part of the visitor experience these days. Gaby: [beat plays briefly] Okay Daniel, I'm going to close it out with one more question. Daniel: Okay. Gaby: Okay. What snakes are in the park? Daniel: We have two kinds of snakes. They're both garter snakes, we have two species of garter snakes. And neither of them are venomous or dangerous. Snakes are cool. A lot of people don't come here for the snakes, but they really should. Gaby: [laughing] It's always, "where can I see a grizzly bear?" Daniel: Never "where can I see a garter snake?" Gaby: [laughing] Daniel: Yeah. All right, well, if people have more questions, they can, you know, hit us up on social media or email us here at the podcast. Gaby: Glac_media_lab@nps.gov [mellow beat begins to play] Daniel: We'll put it in the show notes too. Our music's by Frank Waln and our art is by Stella Nall. Gaby: They're both great. Check out their work. Daniel: Info's in the show notes. Gaby: Headwaters is made possible with support from our nonprofit partner, the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We absolutely could not be doing this without them. Check them out at glacier.org. If you have a moment to leave us a review in your podcast app, that helps so much. Daniel: Thanks for listening. [music fades out]

  • May 16, 2024 · 7 min

    Bonus | How to Level Up Your Trip Planning

    A mini episode on the various ways to plan a trip to Glacier. Tune in to our next bonus episode where we'll answer listener-submitted questions on the show. Email your questions to glac_media_lab@nps.gov with the subject, "Headwaters." Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters/ Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://stellanall.com/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- [drum and synth beat starts to play] Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Daniel Lombardi: Hello. You're listening to Headwaters, a podcast from Glacier National Park. I'm Daniel. Madeline Vinh: Hi, I'm Madeline. [beat concludes] Daniel: And the point of this show is to tell stories about how Glacier is connected to everything else. Madeline: This bonus episode is a little different, though. It'll just be Daniel and I chatting about different resources and strategies for planning a trip to Glacier. Daniel: We are talking trip tips. Madeline: Trip tips. Daniel: Trip tips. Madeline: We are here in the park. We're here in Headquarters in West Glacier and the Park is pretty quiet right now. But the best time to plan for a trip to Glacier is well before you get here. Daniel: Mhm. Madeline: So, Daniel, what are some of the resources that you'd suggest people look into? Daniel: Well, I think we have to start with official sources. Right? We have a website, nps.gov that stands for National Park Service dot government nps.gov/glac. "GLAC" is short for Glacier. That is your primary resource. That's going to have everything you need to plan a trip to the Park. Madeline: Okay. Daniel: Glacier maybe is a hard park to plan for because it's a big place. It's a complicated place, but there are a few other things I think people should know about. Madeline: Officially or unofficially? Daniel: Both. Madeline: Okay. Daniel: Officially, we have a podcast that's called Headwaters. Madeline: What? Daniel: You're listening to it right now. Also officially, we have social media channels. We're always Glacier NPS, whether it's on YouTube or Facebook or Instagram or Twitter or whatever. You can look us up. Follow us and that should help you plan a trip. Madeline: Cool. Okay, so there are a lot of great sounding official resources but you've kind of hinted at unofficial resources. What do the unofficial resources have that the official ones don't? Daniel: In general, I think people are sleeping on unofficial trip planning resources. So think of things like Facebook groups, YouTube channels, general blogs, books. Madeline: Mhm. Daniel: Let me back out and say that official resources are great. The Park website is going to have when campgrounds open and close. How much things cost? How far are distances between things? When are campfire programs? The park website has all of that stuff and you can trust it. It's a .gov website. You know you can trust nps.gov/glac, but if you're on a Facebook group, I think you shouldn't be expecting to get the facts and the dates and the numbers. You go to a Facebook group to get the opinionated, subjective, you know, human personal-. Madeline: Mhm. Daniel: -answers. Let me show you one on the laptop here, if I can get this to open up. Madeline: Daniel is typing. He's using one finger at a time. He's typing aggressively. You might sometimes hear that. Daniel: Sometimes I can use two fingers. Madeline: But today is not one of those days. Daniel: Okay, so I just went on Facebook and I searched Glacier National Park or National Parks. There are tons, dozens, maybe hundreds of Facebook groups. Gosh, yeah. And they are dedicated to helping people plan trips to national parks. It's an amazing resource that I don't think enough people know about. Madeline: It sounds like thousands of people know about them. Daniel: You, you got me there. Madeline: But I'll compare that to the millions that visit national, national parks. Daniel: Okay, so this group is it's a private Facebook group that anyone can request to join. It's called "National Park Trip Planning Advice and Help By The National Park Obsessed." And to give you an example of what it's like... Here's a post by Caitlin. Here, maybe I should have you read this. Madeline: Caitlin says, "Just curious. In your opinion, what has been the hardest national park to plan? I've just started traveling to the parks and will hit my fifth this year, but so far for me, mine has been Glacier.". Daniel: Ooh. Madeline: Tough. Daniel: I liked this one comment that someone responded to Caitlin with. Millie said Glacier was hardest for me, too, because quote, "because of the sheer number of amazing things to see and hikes to do, etc." Madeline: You know, I don't hate that you can't go wrong here. Daniel: Here's another unofficial source that I recommend people check out if they're if they're interested in this kind of thing. Go on YouTube. Type in Glacier National Park and look up travel vlogs. You're not going to get dates of campground opening closure, but just getting a visual look at what it's like in the park at a certain time of year, what it feels like to travel. It can be really helpful preparing you before you come visit. Madeline: Just if you maybe want a little bit more of a visual. Sounds like vlogs are great. Daniel: So here's a vlog from Nicole from last year. This is vlog "Video 13 Northern Montana and Glacier National Park Solo Female Traveler." Madeline: Okay, so that's kind of like a POV, day in the life. Daniel: Yeah, I love it. So this is one woman's experience visiting Glacier, traveling alone. You want to know what that's like okay. This person has already done it and recorded it, and you can get their opinion about it. Nicole: So I just pulled over to see what the deal with reservations were for Glacier and-. Madeline: Sounds great. People can look into those. Are there any hazards that people need to be aware of venturing into those territories? Daniel: Any unofficial source you're using to plan a trip. I think you take it with a grain of salt. So if you're on a Facebook group and you're like reading the comments, it might be helpful. But also just, you know, keep some skepticism in your mind when you're reading through that kind of thing. Or if you're watching, you know, some random YouTube video about the park. Madeline: Right. Okay. So it makes sense that that would be both a pro and a con. If you're looking for someone's opinion, sometimes you'll agree with that, sometimes you won't. So you still might need to have a little bit of a critical lens going in. Daniel: Exactly. Madeline: Okay. Daniel: All right. Well, this has been just a little bonus episode. We are actively working on future seasons of the podcast, but they're not going to be coming out for a while. So stay tuned. Stay patient, stay subscribed, stay hydrated. Madeline: All right. Headwaters is made possible with support from our nonprofit partner, the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Daniel: You should check them out at their website. It's glacier dot org because they're our nonprofit partner. The Park's official website though nps.gov/glac. [drum and synth beat starts to play] Madeline: If you have a moment to leave us a review in your podcast app, we'd appreciate it. It helps a lot. Daniel: Next time we're going to do a mailbag episode. So if you have any questions that you want the Headwaters team to answer on this podcast, just send us an email, put Headwaters in the subject line and our email address is glac_media_lab@nps.gov. We'll put it in the show notes too. Thanks for listening. [beat fades out]

  • May 14, 2024 · 53 min

    Climate and Health with Dr. Danielle Buttke

    A conversation with Dr. Danielle Buttke, who works for the National Park Service at the intersection of human, wildlife, and environmental health. This episode was recorded in September 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Climate change in Glacier: https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/climate-change.htm Public health in National Parks: https://www.nps.gov/orgs/1735/index.ht --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: This is Headwaters, a podcast made in the verdant wonderland that is Glacier National Park. Millions of people come here each year looking for a break from the stresses of everyday life. My name is Peri, and this episode is an interview that my co-host Daniel did with Dr. Danielle Buttke, talking about the intersection of climate change and public health. They talk about how the health of our climate, environment, and communities is all intertwined. This episode is part of a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. These episodes don't have to be listened to in any order, each one stands on its own. And they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate over one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. [drum and synth beat starts to play] Peri: I've always been interested in the idea that people and nature are deeply connected. Maybe you know that already, if you listened to our season on whitebark pine. Still, I don't think I was prepared to hear Dr. Buttke explain these interconnections with so much scientific rigor. I was also struck by how profoundly our health is connected to our climate. I think this interview is essential listening. [beat concludes] Daniel Lombardi: So thanks for talking to us. We wanted to talk to you, Dr. Buttke, about public health and climate change and how climate change is impacting human health and the health of our natural environment, and how those two things are intertwined and all tangled up together. Danielle Buttke: I'm excited to be here today. Daniel: So you have an impressive background, right? You have a Master's in public health. You've studied environmental sciences, and you also have a degree in veterinary medicine, the health and epidemiology of animals. Is that kind of a good summary of that? Danielle: It is, yeah. I had a little bit of a circuitous route to where I am today. Originally wanted to study and work in environmental science and wildlife conservation, which was where my, my Ph.D. work really focused, and realized somewhat early on that animals knew how to survive just fine. It was really that humans were, were taking over the resources and had basic needs that, that needed to be met before we could ask them to conserve resources for tomorrow. And that's when I switched to public health. Daniel: So what's your job now? Tell us about where you work and what you do. Danielle: So I currently lead the One Health program for the National Park Service, and One Health is simply the recognition that both human health, animal health and environmental health are all completely interdependent and interlinked. And when we think about the multiplicity of health outcomes and players, when we're looking at a specific problem, we all benefit when we think about health as a more holistic construct. Daniel: A lot of times I think your job gets really kicked into high gear when like there's a hantavirus outbreak or something in a national park. Is that right? Danielle: It is, yeah. Because we share so much of the same biology with other species, we often share a lot of the same diseases. Diseases that pass between humans and animals -- and they can often go in either direction -- SARS-CoV-2 or COVID is a perfect example of that, you know, they're called zoonotic diseases. And that's really where I got my start and where a lot of my work is focused, on those infectious diseases that can pass between humans and animals. Hantavirus is a perfect example of one of those. And so increasingly in our work, we're finding that when the environment is healthy, when we keep those ecosystems healthy, those ecosystem processes are occurring in the way that nature intended. We have many, many fewer disease risks and many, many fewer disease spillover events. Daniel: Interesting. So I think one thing that's maybe surprising to some people, but talking with you, it seems pretty obvious, that like one approach to studying climate change or thinking about climate change is to think about it through a lens of public health, of environmental health. Do you encounter people that find that surprising, or that's a new idea for them. That these that climate change and environmental health and human health are connected. Danielle: It's really surprising to me to hear and see how many people have not thought about that connection. In every aspect of the way in which climate change impacts the environment, has a similar impact on human health. And yet studies have shown that few people are aware of those impacts, even if they've personally been impacted by a climate disaster or climate emergency. Because when people understand climate change as an impact to their daily lives and their personal health and their family's health, I think it really helps people to understand why it's so important they take action. And it also helps to clarify the ways in which they can personally take action in their local community, in their home and the environment around them. Daniel: Yeah. Do you think it's helpful for us to define the difference between health and disease? Danielle: I think that Western medicine, and my own profession, has focused heavily on disease because it's really easy to see. It's very easy to measure. We have specific tests for specific diseases, and oftentimes it's it's something that we can directly treat. Health is a really difficult thing to measure. Health is not simply the absence of disease, but an individual's ability to thrive within the environment that they exist in, whether it's a human or an animal. And it's therefore a lot easier to understand why health is more directly impacted by climate change than disease per se. Even though we do know that climate change dramatically influences the rate, the types and the severity of infectious diseases. But again, health is much broader than just disease, and therefore the impacts of climate change are much broader than just disease. [drumbeat plays, marking a transition] Daniel: What are some examples of climate change really impacting wildlife health and wildlife disease that you've come across in your work? Danielle: Climate change can influence the actual reproduction of a bacterium or a virus. Under warmer temperatures, or higher or sometimes even lower amounts of precipitation, certain bacteria and viruses can replicate faster, to a higher level, or for a longer period of time. Mosquito-borne viruses are a perfect example of this. When you have a longer, warmer summer, mosquitoes can replicate much more quickly and rapidly, they're present for a longer period of time throughout the year, and those viruses within those mosquitoes can also replicate more rapidly under those warming temperatures. We're also seeing that infectious diseases are changed under climate change because of the ways in which the environment influences where those animals thrive and survive. Avian malaria in Hawaii is a perfect example of this. While neither the mosquitoes nor the the parasite that causes malaria are native to Hawaii, they have become endemic in bird populations and in mosquito populations there. Prior to the warmer temperatures we've seen under climate change, a lot of the native bird species were able to only survive and evade malaria at very high elevations on the mountains in Hawaii. With climate change, those mosquito vectors are moving up in elevation, and those native bird species that are extremely susceptible to malaria, because they didn't evolve with this non-native parasite, are dying out from malaria. And as the mosquitoes move up, there's fewer and fewer refugia, or safe places, for those birds to survive and hide from both the mosquito and the malaria parasite. And we've seen a lot of those native birds go completely extinct because of this parasite. In fact, there's a variety of studies show that there's probably only a few more years left for some of these native bird species to survive without going extinct, if we don't take action now to eradicate that non-native mosquito and that non-native parasite that's present on the island. Daniel: Wow. So basically, in the case of Hawaii and the birds there, it's a story of climate change and a story of invasive or non-native species in that the mosquitoes and the malaria is historically wasn't there. But this is -- generally, all around the world, what's happening is as the climate warms, these mosquitoes and the diseases they carry are able to spread into new places and impact more people and new species of wildlife as well. Is that right? Danielle: That's absolutely correct. Daniel: So we're seeing the potential for these mosquitoes to expand their ranges. Does their range contract alongside, too? As it gets hotter and hotter, they can move to higher elevations and farther north, but then does their the southern end or the lower end of their ranges shrink at the same time? Or are they able to tolerate the heat better? Danielle: For for many species, absolutely. There is not necessarily an expansion of range. Oftentimes, it's just a shift in the range in which these organisms can survive. However, it's not just climate change that's happening on the landscape. It's also human development of landscapes. And humans create microclimates that are oftentimes much more conducive to having these parasites, whether it's ticks, mosquitoes, pathogens themselves, survive. So, for example, here in Colorado, on the Front Range, we have a lot of irrigation because people like green lawns, they like having trees that might not otherwise be able to live on this landscape. And when we have irrigation, we know we have dramatically increased rates of mosquito-borne disease, such as West Nile virus. And so we have, by altering the landscape, changed the way in which these pathogens can survive and interact. And you have kind of a one-two double whammy of that land-use change that's expanding the range, as well as those, those changes from climate change that are expanding the season under which these pathogens can thrive. But I want to be clear it's not always a unidirectional: more disease because of climate change. If we're seeing decreases in precipitation or longer periods of time between which we have rainfall events, that can impact the survival of of ticks. And so it's not always that climate change is causing more pathogens to occur on the landscape. And maybe in some circumstances that's causing them to contract their range or be present for a shorter period of time. But at the end of the day, humans and animals evolved under very specific, discrete conditions. And when we have more rapid and more unpredictable changes in weather and conditions, this means that we are more susceptible to diseases. And diseases are more able to opportunistically take advantage of new niches. Daniel: What I'm hearing you say is that, yes, the shift in mosquitoes and disease, the shift in range and the lengthening of the season, those are concerning. But maybe something that's understated here then is that climate change is just increasing kind of the chaos in the system, and the complexity, which makes all of this just harder to manage. Danielle: That's a perfect way to put it. Daniel: Well, let's talk about the pika research, then. What's happening with pika and climate change and disease? Danielle: So pika are amazing little creatures that have evolved to fill a very specific niche at these very high elevation sites. So a big study that we have going on now is to understand how climate change may be influencing the other small mammals that are moving up to those higher-elevation sites. Because they're seeing warmer temperatures up at those higher-elevation sites, they're able to survive and interact with new populations and they're often bringing their diseases with them. And indeed, there's previous studies that have found, you know, certain species of small mammal that are known to be impacted by plague and carry fleas that can very easily and readily transmit the plague bacterium. They are now found at higher elevation sites where pika are also found. So we're really interested in looking at how those warmer temperatures may be driving new species to interact with pika, and they may be bringing the diseases that could potentially kill pika with them. Daniel: Wow. So if someone hasn't heard of pika before, pikas are these really cute little mammals that are related to rabbits. So they're not really like mouse-like, they're much cuter than that. Size of potatoes, they love to live under the rocks high in the mountains and then like store up flowers for the winter because they don't actually hibernate. They don't sleep through the winter, right? They just hide under the rocks and eat their hay pile all winter long. Danielle: Yeah. An adorable squeaky potato is a great way to put it. Daniel: [laughs] So to stay warm in the winter, they hide under, you know, heavy, deep snows. And that keeps it, you know, it doesn't really get a whole lot colder than freezing point -- than 32 degrees. The snow actually insulates them from the colder air blowing around at the tops of the mountains. But then if you have changes in the amount of snow you're getting, or how warm the winters are, you might get less snow. And that could really hurt their ability to survive through the winter. So that's the general climate impact facing pika. But now you're describing something much more nuanced and complicated, and that is all these other animals, squirrels and mice and all kinds of little creatures that that have fleas, that have potentially diseases. And they're moving up the mountains because it's getting warmer up there and it's nice. And so they're interacting with the pika more, potentially sharing diseases. Am I getting that relationship right? Danielle: Exactly. And I think it also really highlights what we talked about earlier, that interplay between health and disease. It's not just about whether or not a disease is present, it's how healthy is that population to begin with? How resilient is it to changes in its environment, in the introduction to new diseases? When you both have the loss of snowpack happening, as well as the introduction of a new disease, you're much more likely to see declines in that population because they don't have that resilience. Daniel: So it's like, yeah, bringing some new diseases into a population of pikas isn't great, but so long -- if they're really healthy, then maybe that's not a big deal. But if they're really stressed and not very healthy because they've been freezing all winter long and really struggling, well then disease is going to hit a lot harder when it shows up. Danielle: It's sometimes even native diseases that these populations may have evolved to handle or withstand the impacts of these diseases under normal conditions. But maybe under the land use changes that humans are causing, combined with climate change, those native diseases that they've previously evolved some sort of equilibrium or balance with are now having really detrimental impacts. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: Well, let's shift a little bit and talk about some of the impacts of climate change on human health that are a little, a little different than what we've been talking about. One of the primary examples is that well, burning fossil fuels like driving a car or running a coal power plant, that produces, in addition to greenhouse gases which are warming the climate, it's also producing air pollution, which has a big impact on human health. And I'm wondering if you could kind of lay that out a little bit. How does just the use of fossil fuels, aside from causing climate change, how does that impact human health? Danielle: I don't think we can state strongly enough the negative impact of fossil fuel combustion on human health. Because that pollution that's created, we're directly breathing it, because it's often created in the communities in which we live. It's our actions -- driving our car to work, heating our homes, transporting the food that we eat to the grocery store -- all of those things are happening in the places that we live and work, and therefore we're directly exposed to a lot of this pollution. It's estimated that the combustion of fossil fuels and the resulting air pollution is responsible for anywhere from 8 to 10 million deaths every single year. That is more than AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis kills -- combined -- every single year. And so it's really easy to make the business case for for clean energy, for for stopping climate change, because even if we're only looking at the direct health impacts of fossil fuel combustion, we can pay for clean energy. We can pay for that transition away from fossil fuels, away from combustion engines, just from the health care savings that we see. By stopping all of those premature deaths, it's decreasing our lifespans. No matter where you live and who you are. Although obviously individuals that live in more polluted communities, which unfortunately is often disadvantaged populations, whether it's people that live in rural parts of the country, people of color, people with lower income, those people obviously you see the brunt of it to a greater extent than more privileged communities. But even people in privileged communities are dying at much faster rates because of exposure to air pollution. It can get very deep into our lungs and it can cross into our bloodstream where our blood is pumped throughout our body. And those little tiny particles of pollution get lodged in our tissues. One of the most direct impacts is when it's lodged in our brain where it can cause a stroke or it leads to dementia. We see much higher rates of dementia in communities with higher rates of pollution. Or it can be in your heart or your blood vessels and it can lead to a heart attack or other types of cardiovascular disease. And so you've certainly met someone, know someone, have personally been impacted by stroke, heart attack, cardiovascular disease. All of those diseases are much worse and much more common because of fossil fuel combustion, because of our exposure to air pollution. And that's really just the start. There's a myriad of other ways in which that burning of fossil fuels impacts our health, but those are the most obvious. Daniel: Wow. So if someone you know has a stroke, the medical report probably isn't going to say anything about air pollution because we're just not looking into the details that carefully anytime someone has a stroke. You know, we're just trying to help them get better and recover. But in reality, the air pollution is contributing at least some amount to that likelihood of a stroke happening. Danielle: Absolutely. It's, you know, similar to the interplay of health and disease, we focus on that end result, that stroke. We focus on that disease, but we're not thinking enough about all of those factors that caused that stroke to occur in the first place. And exposure to pollution is is a really, really important one. There was, however, recently one of the first death certificates that had climate change listed. It was in, an I believe, a young person who had died from an asthma attack. And asthma is a much more direct, much more obvious way in which climate change and the burning of fossil fuels impacts our health. But there's there's many less obvious ways and many more insidious ways than simply dying from an asthma attack. Daniel: It's difficult to parse out how much worse their particular case of asthma is because of burning fossil fuels. But it's certainly exacerbating and worsening these breathing and lung conditions that people might already have or might not already have. Danielle: And it's not just direct exposure to fossil fuel combustion. It's also those secondary impacts of burning fossil fuels. So under these warmer temperatures, we know that wildfire is dramatically increasing. You know, and the the particles that are released during a wildfire event are having that secondary and compounding impact on increasing rates of asthma, increasing hospital admissions, increasing stroke, increasing heart attack. So it's oftentimes multifactorial, but increasingly, those events are linked to impacts of climate change. We know that, you know, somewhat surprisingly, increased precipitation from climate change in some parts of the country are increasing pollen counts and worsening asthma and other types of air pollution, whereas in other parts of the country, such as the desert southwest, those increased droughts and increased temperatures are worsening the dust, sometimes worsening fungal pollen spores that can cause different infectious diseases such as Valley Fever and worsening the rates of asthma, the rates of of general lung disease and other impacts because of those warmer temperatures. Daniel: So here in Glacier, what what's probably happening is we're getting longer summers, warmer summers. So there's allergy season in the summer and the season in which plants are pollinating. Like that's lengthening, too. So if you're allergic to tree pollen, like when there's just longer time periods with that pollen in the air. Danielle: These are oftentimes synergistic, especially when you have warmer temperatures. When the body is overheated, when we have higher, hotter ambient temperatures, it's a lot harder for our body to respond to especially those cardiovascular insults. We see much higher rates of cardiovascular disease and cardiovascular attacks when you have these compound exposures. So it is, as you said earlier, it's just increased chaos. Daniel: Yeah, increased chaos because it's one thing if your allergies are way worse because of the pollen or your asthma is way worse because of the smoke. But then you have to add on top of that, like, oh, also a heat wave and you don't have air conditioning. Like now you're suddenly really susceptible to like just a common cold, I would think is going to hit way harder when your body is run down from heat and smoke and everything. Danielle: And we saw this with COVID. We saw that populations that were experiencing greater amounts of air pollution had much more severe rates of COVID-19 disease and death. We know that when your body is responding to pollution and responding to particulate matter, it's much more difficult to fight off infectious diseases, even things such as as seemingly benign as the common cold. Daniel: Wow. Well, let's talk about the heat, then, because ultimately, that's what we most typically associated with climate change, is burning fossil fuels, is releasing greenhouse gases, and that's heating the planet. And heat is ultimately very dangerous. Danielle: Most folks are often surprised to hear and learn that heat kills more people than any other severe weather event. And it isn't just direct heat exposure, just as it isn't direct fossil fuel pollution exposure that kills people. Repeated exposure to high temperatures in which your body's not able to cool itself well can cause a lot of long term health impacts. It can decrease kidney function. There's some studies suggesting it may influence the development of other chronic diseases, such as diabetes. It can have long term impacts on your cardiovascular system, and it can influence your ability to withstand those severe heat events in future years. And so it's not just simply did you survive that extreme heat event that you saw. It's what long term consequences are occurring to your body when when you have these, these heat exposure in these extreme heat events. Daniel: There's two themes emerging in this conversation so far, Danielle. One of them is that the impacts of climate change on health are not evenly distributed. They're impacting some people more than others. Another theme that's emerging, that if it's not obvious already, is that none of these impacts are acting alone. They're all interacting together and exacerbating and influencing each other. Well, I want to ask you something more about heat. In Phoenix this summer, they had like almost the entire month of July over 110 degrees Fahrenheit. And that's incredible. Glacier National Park here in West Glacier, I think our record high temperature ever is 100 degrees Fahrenheit. So it's just it doesn't get that hot here. But I'm guessing that you can say more about how it's not necessarily the number that causes health issues. It's not the exact temperature. There's other factors, right? Danielle: It is often unexpected heat that causes the worst health impacts and outcomes because people are neither behaviorally able to adapt -- maybe you didn't bring sun protection, maybe you didn't plan your hike so that you can take shade breaks, maybe you didn't bring enough water -- as well as physiologically adapt. When your body is gradually exposed to increasing heat, it's able to cool itself more efficiently over time, provided that it has the resources that needed it needs. So it's unexpected heat that's oftentimes the greatest killer. But what our study found was where we had the most severe health impacts and the most number of heat illness events and deaths was in the shoulder seasons. It's when people didn't expect the heat that they suffered the worst. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: So far, we've talked about impacts of climate change on wildlife health and disease. And we've talked about the impacts of climate change on human health and disease. And now I was going to ask you, let's talk more about where those overlap and intersect, how human and wildlife and environmental health are really inseparable and tied together. Do you think the best examples might be like Lyme disease, hantavirus, West Nile? Should we talk about those? Danielle: I think those are some of the the most salient examples of how human, environmental and wildlife health are interlinked. However, they're not the most powerful examples in terms of overall health benefits or overall health detriments. Lyme disease and West Nile and hantavirus are all infectious diseases that can be spread from wildlife and or insects to humans, and oftentimes vice versa. And we know that each of these diseases occurs at higher rates and spills over to humans more often when there are aspects of that environment that aren't healthy. We know, for example, West Nile virus occurs at the highest rates in the human population when there are the least number of bird species present and when there is not a very diverse community of wildlife present. It's something that's been referred to as the dilution effect, although that simplifies it quite a bit. It's much more complex than that. But it's the idea that when you have diverse wildlife populations that are present in healthy ecosystems, they essentially can dilute out that disease because they're not all susceptible to it, and therefore it can't simply amplify by passing from one animal to the next to the next. And that means that when you don't have that complete community of birds present, when you don't have that diverse assemblage of wildlife species present, you can see greater rates of some of these diseases. Lyme disease is another example of that. We know that when you have more predators present on the landscape, you have lower numbers and lower rates of transmission in the mouse populations, either because those predators are eating that mouse species that is uniquely capable of maintaining high numbers of the Lyme disease-causing bacteria, or oftentimes because those mice aren't as often to go out there and transmit disease more readily because they're afraid that a predator is watching them. And that's why when we have more natural predators present, when we have a more diverse wildlife community present on the landscape, we have lower rates of Lyme disease in those human communities and that part of of the environment. Wow. So we know that when that ecosystem is diverse and healthy, we generally have lower rates of disease transmission. Daniel: That's really amazing. To underline that, you're saying that more biodiversity results in less disease for wildlife and people. Danielle: For many diseases yes, that is -- and generally that is the case. Daniel: Wow. Can we dig into each of these a little bit then? What is it about having more birds that helps with West Nile disease? Danielle: Yeah, this is a great question and a really important example of this mechanism of of how biodiversity protects us. There are certain bird species that are really susceptible to West Nile virus, and those bird species can make a whole lot of virus in their bloodstream when they get infected. Corvids, which are things like jays and crows, are examples of birds that that make a whole lot of virus when they get infected. And that's oftentimes why they die from West Nile virus. But before they die, they can infect a lot of mosquitoes, because every single time a mosquito takes blood from that animal, they can pick up a ton of virus because it's at such high density in the blood of that bird species. Compare that to other types of songbirds that are probably more rare, probably don't like living around humans to the same extent that those corvids species do. They may get infected with West Nile virus, but they're much less likely to die from it, and they don't make as much virus when they have it or they never get it in the first place. So when you have those songbirds present that aren't very capable at transmitting West Nile virus, you essentially stop those mosquitoes from feeding on those those jays and those crows and those other species that are really good at transmitting it. And therefore, a fewer percentage of the mosquitoes in that population are going to be transmitting and carrying West Nile virus. The thing is, those species that are really good at transmitting West Nile virus are some of the most resilient to human disturbance. That's why those are the birds you see in neighborhoods, because those are some of the only ones that are tolerant of night lighting that occurs oftentimes in human developments or the noises that occur or the very, very impoverished numbers of trees and diversity of of plant species. A lot of those songbirds need more food than is present in an urban landscape, and therefore they can't live there. And so that's why having more bird species present, as we see in more diverse communities, is associated with having fewer human infections with West Nile virus. Daniel: This is kind of blowing my mind. And so when we're talking about these diseases and the overlap between wildlife health and biodiversity and human health and human disease, the climate impact is not quite as direct as some of the other things we've talked about, but it's still a factor in that climate change is disrupting the life patterns and the existence of a bunch of these animals and changing the amount of like generalist species, like ravens versus sensitive warbler species that are being impacted by climate change, am I understanding that. Right? Danielle: Absolutely. And I think it's probably easier to see climate impacts in these wildlife diseases and populations if instead of looking at the negative side of things, we look at the positive side of things because we know that when you have more tree canopy present in a location that's supposed to be forested, you have much greater rates of biodiversity. So more species of birds present, so less or lower rates of West Nile virus transmission occurring there. And you're more resilient against heat illness because you've got shade there, you have evapotranspiration happening from those trees. So they create cooler, more humid micro environments that help your body cool and all of those other species that are just as susceptible to heat illness oftentimes as humans are. It cleans the water. It means you're more you're less susceptible to flooding because the roots of those trees will take that water away. It regulates our environment in so many ways that it both decreases the risk of a lot of these infectious diseases, as well as protects us from severe heat, extreme weather, extreme flooding, drought, etc.. And so, you know, it's it's not just, again, about disease. It's it's really about health writ large. Daniel: At the end of the day, those diseases are not our greatest killers. They don't have the greatest health impacts. And other infectious diseases where biodiversity can regulate or reduce the rate of disease transmission may have be more important from a number standpoint, even if the example by which biodiversity regulates disease transmission isn't as obvious. Daniel: Are you saying that, well, hantavirus, Lyme disease, this is kind of scary, but ultimately, like from a public health perspective, asthma, and air quality, that kind of stuff is just way more impactful. Way more important. Danielle: Exactly. Exactly. When you look at the top ten killers, not just in the United States, but globally, they're not infectious diseases. They're chronic diseases, they're cancer. They're diseases from air pollution. They're, you know, factors and health impacts that are influenced both by climate change increasingly, as well as access to nature. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: So you're describing the health and disease benefits of basically just having more greenspace, having more trees and grass around where you live. Right. Danielle: Most people can probably think about the way in which being outside might make you feel better. It's not just a feeling. We know that when you are exposed to nature, even if it's in short periods of time, very small segments or what we would think of as not very natural nature, such as a dense city park or even house plants, it can have really profound physiologic impacts that last for quite a long time on us. We know that kids that are exposed to nature, if they walk through a tree lined street on their way to school, they're going to concentrate better. They have better immune function, they have better recall and memory and and better behavioral characteristics. There are studies that have found that kids that are exposed to nature on a regular basis can sometimes even eliminate the need for medication to deal with things such as attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, attention deficit disorder, simply from exposure to nature. We also know that we have significant increases in, for example, natural killer cell function and other immune markers when we are exposed to some of the phytochemicals that trees release, or simply exposed to greenspace, our immune system is better able to deal with pollution as well as infectious diseases when we're exposed to nature. We also know that there's a lot of mental health benefits, not just memory and mental function, but also decreased rates of anxiety, depression, lower rates of crime in communities that have green space present. And all of these is really has been found to be a direct measure or impact of of the presence of nature, even when we control for things such as socioeconomic conditions present in that environment, other other factors that can influence any of these outcomes. You know, regardless of of what your background is or where you live, there's a health impact of nature exposure that we can see if we're increasing the amount of nature you're exposed to. Daniel: Wow. Danielle: Yeah. And I think this is really important because while diseases such as West Nile virus, hantavirus, Lyme disease are important, they actually don't kill that many people. They can have a devastating impact on your life if you have some of those long term sequelae of Lyme disease infection. But in reality, the impacts of those diseases pale in comparison with a lot of the chronic diseases such as depression, such as substance abuse, such as suicide, such as cardiovascular disease and cancer, these chronic diseases that kill far more people than those infectious diseases. But those chronic diseases that can be alleviated, if not completely cured or prevented if we have more nature present in our environment and if we have access to nature. We know that people are more likely to participate in healthy behaviors when they have more nature present in their community and environment. We know that people are more likely to be connected to others and their community when they have more greenspace present. And that dramatically increases life span and lessens your risk of dying from any type of extreme event, severe weather, emergency fire or otherwise. Because people are going to check on you. You're less likely to die of diseases of despair such as alcoholism, drug use disorder, and other forms of of mental illness deaths when you have exposure to nature and a stronger, more closer knit community. And so it really influences and improves our health in a variety of ways. Those impacts are much harder to measure than diseases from infectious causes, but they're no less real. Just because we maybe can't can't measure them in the same way. Daniel: And so oftentimes, like defining what is nature is messy or complicated, but in this case, we're like really loosely defining it, I think, right. Like it's we're talking about just having grass and trees and plants around you. That's what you mean by exposure to nature for the most part. Right? Danielle: Yeah. And in fact, one of the first seminal studies showing this effect simply looked at whether or not hospital patients recovering from gallbladder surgery could see nature outside of their window, or if they were on a side of the hospital that looked out at other buildings. And they found much faster rates of recovery and better outcomes in those patients who had views of trees outside of their hospital window. And so there hasn't been that much work done to really quantify what types of nature have what types of impact. But the good news is the bar is pretty low. Any nature, whether it's native or not or pristine or not or large or small, is going to have some positive benefit on your mental health, on your physical health, and your community health, and your chance of living longer and healthier and happier. And studies that look at infectious disease, studies that look at chronic disease, studies that look at school performance, anxiety, the list goes on and on. And the other thing that's really important about this is a lot of these diseases are impacted by climate change, but a lot of the benefits of nature go beyond some of the things we've just talked about to, again, reducing your risk of extreme heat, reducing your exposure to air pollution. Trees are one of the best sources of of air filters, right? Trees clean our air to a greater extent than nearly any other type of technology, and trees draw down carbon. They both help us adapt to climate change as well as help to reverse or stop some of the climate warming pollution, pull it down back into the ground so that we're not still seeing the heating impact of that carbon that's in the air. So nature is is so beneficial on so many so many levels. And climate change is really compounding a lot of these diseases that we're exposed to, a lot of these health impacts that we're exposed to. But access to nature can both have a direct impact on our risk of those diseases, as well as reverse or mitigate some of our future risk by by helping us adapt to and mitigate climate change directly. Daniel: And to be clear, you're not talking about like some special whitebark pine tree in the top of a national park. You're talking about literally any tree is improving our air quality and health while also drawing down carbon along the way. Danielle: Yes. And this is actually a really important point because the tree that's going to have the greatest influence on your health is the one that's closest to you. But it's local nature that has the greatest health impact because you have the greatest exposure to it. It doesn't have to be large scale. It doesn't have to be as big or beautiful as you'd like it to be. Any nature is going to have a positive health benefit for you if you're exposed to it at a higher rate. Daniel: Not everybody has the same access to a neighborhood filled with trees and streets lined with trees. Some neighborhoods have more than others. Danielle: And this is why those health impacts of climate change fall very unequally on communities and hit those vulnerable communities with the least resources. Most significantly, because those communities are less likely to have tree canopy, you're both less likely to have the money or the housing for air conditioning or well sealed housing that can keep that wildfire smoke out, and you're less likely to have tree canopy that's going to clean up that pollution that's there or shade your house so that you're less impacted by the lack of air conditioning during a heat wave. Greenspace is one way in which we can dramatically improve the health of those vulnerable communities, because there's both the really, really beneficial health aspects of having that exposure to greenspace, as well as that really significant need to help them adapt to warmer temperatures, to more air pollution, to more diseases present, to more flooding, to more drought. Trees are going to help with all of those things, and they're beneficial whether or not you're experiencing one of those extreme weather events. Daniel: So altogether, it's like kind of scary to really realize like how unhealthy and how negatively our environment is being impacted by climate change. But it's also kind of inspiring or exciting that like there's so many benefits to our health from fostering a healthy environment and addressing climate change. That like we have the solutions and those solutions for a lot of these is just like engaging with and encouraging more greenspace in your own neighborhood. Danielle: And even better, if they could be a food source to you or to to local wildlife, which you know is another impact of climate change we haven't talked about is food scarcity and food insecurity, because we're having more droughts and heat waves and greater chaos. You can't grow crops very well if you don't know whether or not the rain is going to come or how hot that temperature is going to be that summer. And so having more nature present and more types of nature present is going to make you more adaptable and more resilient. And the other really important aspect of having more nature present is that it is one of the only things that the American public universally supports. It does not matter your political views, your economic background, your your ethnic background, everyone universally, over 93% of Americans support protecting more greenspace, whether it's national parks or otherwise, for the benefit and well-being of other Americans. And so it's something we can all get behind as as a climate solution, as an equity solution, as a health solution of having more greenspace present. And if we use that greenspace to to also then, you know, grow local food or have more educational opportunities for kids or have more spaces for us to connect with each other, we're going to see a myriad of other health benefits and resilience benefits against some of these climate changes in the future. Daniel: Well, this is all been incredible. Thank you, Dr. Buttke, for taking the time to come and chat with us about this. Danielle: Thank you for the time. But at the end of the day, the the story is is really one of hope and and nature, the health benefits of nature. The best way for you to have an impact. The best way for you to take climate action is right where you are, influencing the people that will listen to you most readily and most willingly and in the way in which you you best know how. Any action you can take is going to be beneficial, but it's going to be most beneficial if it's it's local to you and in with people that that trust and are more likely to follow in your footsteps. And again, everyone supports more nature. Everyone supports more green space. So it's a really good place to start. Daniel: We have so much to gain by addressing climate change. I love that. Danielle: It's important to recognize that there's extreme disparity in this country in particular, and access to greenspace and access to shade and access to parks. And it's not simply about what zip code you live in and whether or not you have money to take that vacation and travel to to a national park. It's more about the ways in which our cities were designed and developed that excluded people of color, in particular from living in certain neighborhoods and parts of certain cities because of institutional and structural racism that existed. We know that the practice of redlining prohibited people of color from owning homes in certain parts of the city that were more likely to have greenspace and parks present. And that's why today, one of the thing that predicts your likelihood of having shade or having urban tree canopy or access to green space is sadly the color of your skin. This is a an absolute health disparity in addition to just simply being wrong that we really need to to to remedy not only because it's the right thing to do, but because it has dramatic health benefits and it helps those vulnerable communities adapt to and mitigate climate change in a way that they need it most. Daniel: So, Danielle, some of what you're describing is the benefits of green space, not just on human health and mitigating human disease, but also just improving like mental health to being in green space. And I'm also curious to see what you think about the benefits of mental health, of like taking action, doing something in your community about green space or about climate change. Like, does that have an impact on mental health or any other kind of health? Danielle: I think oftentimes we think about it backwards. It isn't that if you have hope, you take action. It's that if you take action that brings you hope. Taking action actually dramatically improves your mental health. And oftentimes people don't know where to start or where to act. The good news is, is that anything you can do in your neighborhood is going to have the biggest impact. And any action you're taking in your local, local neighborhood or community is also more likely to have that positive impact on your health. If you're advocating for a park, if you're planting trees, if you're starting a community garden, we are going to have so much more hope when we take action and we're going to have such a greater impact when we do it through nature based solutions, because they have health benefits that extend far beyond the direct impact on climate and health benefits or impacts. We are increasingly dependent on our local communities to meet our needs, to take care of each other, to support each other through these extreme weather events and these climate impacts and action that we can take, such as improving greenspace locally, is going to make our community more prepared for these events. It's going to provide us a resource that helps mitigate and reduce the impacts of those severe events. And it's just going to make us healthier, happier and more resilient long term. So it's it's really, I think one of the best ways for us to find hope is by taking action to find those nature based solutions where you live and work, because they'll have the greatest impact and you'll see those benefits quite clearly. [hopeful guitar and drumbeat plays] Daniel: Yeah, that's great. We have so much to gain by taking action to address climate change from creating more greenspace. I love it. Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one. The Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's, natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening. [music concludes]

  • Apr 30, 2024 · 53 min

    Climate and History with Elizabeth Villano

    A conversation with Elizabeth Villano, from the NPS Climate Change Response Program, about telling climate stories and finding hope. This episode was recorded in June of 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Climate change in Glacier: https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/climate-change.htm Climate change across the NPS: https://www.nps.gov/subjects/climatechange/index.htm --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. You're listening to Headwaters, a show from Glacier National Park. Peri Sasnett: Glacier is usually thought of as a nature park, but it's also steeped in human culture and history dating back thousands of years. My name is Peri, and this episode is an interview with climate change interpreter and park ranger Elizabeth Villano. She talks about how climate change isn't just a nature or science story, but is also a history and culture story, and about how national parks and historic sites across the country can lead that conversation. This episode is part of a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. These episodes don't have to be listened to in any order, each one stands on its own. And they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate over one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. [drum and synth beat starts to play] This is an interview that surprised me. Each turn in the conversation went in directions I didn't expect. I've always known that climate change is a big story that connects to pretty much everything, but I'd never heard it explored this fully. If you enjoy visiting national parks, or especially if you like going to ranger programs, this conversation is for you. [beat concludes] Daniel Lombardi: Elizabeth, welcome to headquarters. Elizabeth Villano: Thanks so much, Daniel. It's great to be here. Daniel: Will you introduce yourself? Where do you work? Elizabeth: I work for the Climate Change Response Program, which is the centralized unit within the National Park Service that does climate change communication, resilience, adaptation work for all of the National Park Service sites. Daniel: And before that, you worked for a bunch of national park sites in the San Francisco Bay Area, right? Elizabeth: Yeah, I worked at Alcatraz Island, the Marin Headlands, Muir Woods, and Rosie the Riveter World War Two Home Front National Historical Park. Daniel: Okay, so you're you are a park ranger wearing the flat hat, talking to the public, talking about trees, talking about the history of World War Two, talking about all kinds of stuff. Elizabeth: And federal prisons. Daniel: Okay. And now you're working with all the national parks around the country, four hundred-some of them. And you're helping them incorporate climate change into what they're already doing? Elizabeth: Yeah, I think at last count, there was 424 National Park Service sites across the country. Daniel: Okay. Elizabeth: And all of those interpreters have a really important job of engaging the public with their site specifically. Mm hmm. And so I am kind of in the next step up from that, where I help create training materials and actually facilitate and lead trainings that help those interpreters find their own site connection to climate change. Daniel: Is there a park site that isn't connected to climate change? Elizabeth: Definitely not. Daniel: And that is exactly why I wanted to talk to you. We're having this whole series of conversations about climate change in the national parks. And I wanted to talk to you because you are talking to all these other national parks, talking about how climate change is connected to everything we do, including historical and cultural park sites. It's not just about the big nature parks like Glacier. Elizabeth: Yeah, exactly. And in those big nature parks like Glacier, finding the unexpected connections that sometimes create the deeper meanings for visitors. Daniel: So there for sure wasn't any like, you know, "aha" wake up moment for you on climate change. Like what underpins, you know, what's your motivation? Why do you want to tell climate stories at all? Elizabeth: So the mission of the National Park Service is to preserve these places that we're in unimpaired for future generations. Mm hmm. And a lot of people understand when we say things like, don't feed the bears, right? That's not an unimpaired state. That is humans feeding bears. Mm hmm. They understand when we say don't throw litter on the ground. Right. Because that's not unimpaired. If we really want to stay true to our mission statement, then we absolutely have to talk about here's ways that we can reduce our carbon footprint so that these places remain unimpaired for future generations, for people to continue enjoying these beautiful places that we love and cherish so much. That's just another form of advocacy that we absolutely need to do. Daniel: Especially in a place like Glacier that's so easy to see. And such an important point you're making is that. Climate change is impacting and changing in a negative way. Glacier National Park. And we have to acknowledge that and we have to explore it. We have to talk about it. We have to tell the climate stories of Glacier National Park and of all the other park sites as well. Elizabeth: Mm hmm. Yeah. Even if your park site doesn't have a glacier to melt or, you know, a sea level rise that will destroy your resource, you're still a part of this larger interconnected system across the nation where if we are protecting the National Park Services resources, you're a part of that movement. So part of my work is developing training tools so that anyone across the Park Service can say, How do I talk about climate change more effectively? And then the other part of that is actually leading and facilitating trainings. Daniel: And that's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, is because I know you're working on a a big resource, a big toolkit called History and Hope, which is a tool that's going to help more national parks, especially national historical parks, talk about climate change and talk about climate change in places that maybe they haven't a lot in the past. Is that right? Elizabeth: Yeah. The full title is History and Hope: Interpreting the Roots of Our Climate Crisis and Inspiring Action. Daniel: Okay. I'm I'm really excited to talk to you today. And I want to talk to you about how the national parks can interpret climate change into the future. Maybe a new approach to talking about climate change that's different than what we've done in the past. But let's start with you a little bit. Did you have a moment or a turning point where you started thinking about climate change a lot more or differently? Elizabeth: Well, you know, I was thinking about if I had a wake up moment in thinking about climate change as a whole, and I realized the answer is no. It's just been a part of my consciousness since I can remember. Mm hmm. And I think that unfortunately, that's just how the trajectory of climate change, knowledge and understanding is going to go. And as you talk with people who are younger than me, especially, there's no wake up moment. It's yeah, I was born into a world that is increasingly in hospitable and is going to change in ways that we can't imagine or comprehend. Mm hmm. Daniel: You could imagine a climate scientist 30 years ago or something, and they do some experiments or finally read some new research, and they have this wake up moment. But for people, for millennials, for Gen Z, for younger people, there's not moments like that. It's sort of you learn about it before you really understand it. And it's just climate change is kind of an ever present thing. Is that what I mean? That's how it feels for me too. Elizabeth: Yeah, absolutely. It's just a part of how I view the world. Any time I'm in the outdoors, it's always kind of there in the back of my mind. And I think a part of my journey with the Park Service was figuring out, okay, we have this massive systemic issue and we're only really talking about it in spaces we think of as natural. But of course, this problem is so much bigger than just in natural spaces. Mm hmm. So how do we use park service sites that are more than just natural? All the cultural history embedded into them to help us think through those really challenging issues with climate change? Daniel: Yeah. Why? Why And how do you think National Park sites, whether they're cultural or historical or natural, like why are park sites so well-suited for communicating climate change? Elizabeth: I think first I've noticed in myself and other Park Service interpreters that we kind of hold a false binary of what's natural and what's cultural. Mm hmm. We say, like, this park is natural. There's glaciers, there's trees, there's rocks. And this park is cultural. It talks about wars and World War Two. And yeah, every park site has all of it. Daniel: Like Glacier National Park is known as a natural park. We have grizzly bears. We have glaciers. Right. But of course, there's a lot of cultural and history here. And I imagine in the same way a site like Rosie the Riveter, you know, that's interpreting World War Two history, it's really a culture site. But of course, it is also part of the natural world and about the natural environment. So they're connected. But beyond that, there's something about like place based learning. And when you go to a place, it helps you learn about something like climate change in a different way. I think national parks as a whole are getting, you know, 300 some million visitors were really trusted and park rangers are really trusted. A. Authorities. It makes something so important like climate change, it makes it really important to talk about at such important places like National Park sites, I think. Do you agree? Elizabeth: Yeah. And when people come to these sites, they're kind of in a different state of mind. Mm hmm. You know, they're on vacation mode. They're more open to learning, receiving information and feel really connected to the place that they're in. Mm hmm. National parks have such an immense power of place, it can kind of transport you into a different way of viewing the world. Yeah. And not just that. I think if you think about who the nation's storytellers are. Mm hmm. We're kind of the only agency or one of the only agencies that's employed to tell stories of our nation's past, as well as a trained workforce who understands how to dig into these histories and help people find their relevance with them. You'll often hear interpreters or the phrase interpretation. Mm hmm. And I used to get a lot like, What does that mean? Mm hmm. I'm not a language interpreter. I don't translate French to English, but I do interpret why this place matters to you and what helps you find your relevance to it. And so that was really the purpose of this project. And this toolkit is finding more ways we can interpret climate change so that we can say, here's a connection in this park site that maybe relates back to your own life more, that relates back to the qualities of being a person existing in a really messy world. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: How did you start out talking about climate change when you were interpreting to the public? When people ask you about climate change, how how did you approach the topic with people? Elizabeth: It was pretty dark, really. Daniel: I think it was the same for me. Elizabeth: I was working at Muir Woods National Monument, which is a beautiful redwood forest about an hour north of San Francisco, and the fog in and around the Bay Area is decreasing. It's decreased by about 30% since the 1950s. And the redwoods rely on the fog. Uh, so at the end of my talk, I would kind of, you know, the crescendo would be the fog is disappearing. And what is that going to mean for these trees? And I think, you know, I would just leave these really uncomfortably long pauses where I would start imagining the worst and people would start imagining the worst. Daniel: Mm hmm. Elizabeth: And I think the the underlying tone of what I was saying is, I'm so glad you're here now because they're not going to be here anymore. Mm hmm. And. When you're engaging with people, when you're doing programs, it's so energizing usually. And I would just leave these programs feeling so depleted and sad and depressed. And we've seen that people who are interpreting climate change, people who are doing the science of climate change, are really starting to feel depressed and worn down because we're so immersed in this topic that feels really hopeless. Daniel: Yeah, I think you know that That's exactly how I approached interpreting and talking to the public about climate change when I first started as well. I was, you know, I'm not afraid of scary stories. I like the the doom side of things. I definitely early on focused on climate impacts. You know, climate change is causing wildfire to increase. It's causing the glaciers to melt. And here's how these animals are impacted and this is how much hotter it is. And, you know, telling kind of the the heavy impact side of the story, that was definitely the way I went at it. And I don't know that, you know, I would think that that half is important. You have to recognize that. But it definitely feels like there's something missing. Elizabeth: Yeah. I mean, did you feel hopeful when you talked about that? Daniel: I... I don't... I don't know that I did. I think I felt really pretty pessimistic, and I'm guessing that's how the audience felt as well. Elizabeth: I mean, we are just such social creatures. Like if you think about when your friend is sad, like it kind of pulls you down to. Especially like as the authority figure when you were sad. Like people feel that. Yeah. The doom and gloom approach to climate change interpretation. I think it's pretty pervasive. And, you know, I think in part it's because we have a lot of science. There's no disputing really these climate impacts. And so as an interpreter, when you're looking for something to talk about, you gravitate towards these facts and you want to share them with people you feel so passionately about, the place you live in, work in play in, that you want to bring people into that with you. And I just think. You know, if you are a first time visitor to a National Park Service site and you go to a talk about glaciers melting and then you go back home and it's kind of hard to get food on your table or you're worried about making rent or, you know, you're stuck in a city. You kind of forget what it was like to be in that place. Like, what does a melting iceberg mean to you? If you like, picture your eyes and you think about climate change. The images that are going to come to mind are probably. Icebergs, melting polar bears losing their homes. Maybe like lakes that have been dried out from immense drought or wildfires. And I think as a public, as people were pretty good at understanding the natural impacts of climate change and where the conversation has just lagged for a long time, both in parks and media, is what that means for people. Daniel: Yeah, it sounds like you're saying the national parks are this perfect venue to talk about climate change, but that most of the time we have focused on the impacts of climate change and we haven't really made the connection for, you know, someone visiting a national park, the connection between how the glaciers are melting and why that matters, or why climate change matters for that person's life at home. Like that connection isn't being made. Elizabeth: Yeah, and that's played out in the data. Americans are really good at understanding the link between climate change and environmental issues. And then just increasingly bad about thinking about the intersectionality of it. We're great at seeing climate change as an environmental issue, but when you start to think about how climate change will impact our economy, it gets worse. If you start thinking about the intersection between climate change and health, it gets even worse. Although I think during the pandemic there was some conversation about the ways in which climate change will start to increase the risk of vector borne illnesses, increase the risk for pandemics. So maybe we've gotten a little bit better at that. But way at the bottom of that list of comprehending is climate change and social justice. The ways that climate change really increases and magnifies the risks which people are already living in today. Daniel: Elizabeth, you're thinking about how the national parks are a perfect place to talk about climate change, but how the story and the conversation about climate change has been so negative and so impact in nature focused, then I think there was like a moment where that shifted for you. The story flipped around and you started thinking about the climate conversation in national parks in a new way. Elizabeth: Yeah. So I went from working in Redwoods at Muir Woods National Monument to interpreting war history and homefront history at Rosie the Riveter World War Two Home Front National Historical Site. So Rosie the Riveter is not a place where people come to expecting to think about climate change. There is kind of that question among staff to like, is this really the place to be talking about climate change? This is an event that happened in the 1940s. This has not just doesn't really have any natural resources to speak of. Leave that to another park site. Hmm. But I'm Italian. I'm not good at leaving things alone. And so I started to think about how how to bring in this story here. And the way in which I decided to do it was let visitors make that connection themselves. And so I put up a whiteboard in the middle of this industrial space. Mm hmm. That said, during World War Two, the country mobilized around a common cause. What cause do you want to mobilize around now? And there is a whiteboard marker. And that was it. So people started to throw their responses up. And I collected all the data, and I tabulated and I tabulated per month. Mm hmm. And I put together word clouds where the biggest word in the middle of this word cloud was the thing most responded to. Mm hmm. And so I started to look at which responses had the most traction. And without fail, month after month, no matter what was happening in the news, it was always climate change. Daniel: Were you surprised? Elizabeth: I think I was hopeful. Yeah. And I felt empowered. Hmm. You know, it was that idea that I think a lot of the barriers in talking about climate change are more in my head than it is actually in people's minds. You know, they come to national parks. Seeking answers, seeking perspectives of what happened in the past, and intuitively wanting to make those connections to the present. Daniel: So then what happened next? Elizabeth: I came up with a ranger talk called When History Rhymes, kind of based off of that idiom that Mark Twain didn't say, but people think he did. That history doesn't repeat itself, it rhymes. So really using this idea of, okay, well, why would we even talk about history if we're not going to try to learn from it? If we are the nation's storytellers, how do we help people draw lessons from that so that we can help them draw their own conclusions and come away from these sites addressing the issues on their minds, which time and time again was climate change. Daniel: So basically it's like, how can we take the lessons from mobilizing the history of mobilizing for World War two? What can we apply from that to today? Or what do we definitely not want to apply, But like using history as a tool to understand the present and the future. Is that right? Elizabeth: That's exactly right. And I think World War Two is is actually a great example because a lot of people would come in, would say, oh, that was the greatest generation. That was the last time Americans were really unified. And that's true to an extent. And it also kind of leaves out the ways in which we mobilized at the expense of Japanese-American citizens who didn't need to be excluded, incarcerated. The ways in which they were. And so the way which we default to telling history tends to be pretty cherry picked. And I think that when telling history, it's really important to really encompass everything that goes into it so that when you're thinking about how to create a future, you can kind of course correct from the ways in which we maybe didn't do it well the first time. Daniel: So there are also lessons from World War Two about what we what we don't want to do if we're going to mobilize and unify as a country. How can we improve this time, From the last time we did that. Elizabeth: Our mobilization around World War Two was visionary in a lot of ways. Yeah, it brought women into the workforce. It brought people of color into the workforce. It brought people with disabilities into the workforce. I think it was really a time our country said what other creative talents out there exist and how can we utilize them to combat this really large threat that we're facing? This threat of fascism that we all agree is really important? And that that is truly a lesson to be learned in thinking about mobilizing around climate change is how many different pools of talent exist that we can pull from and weave in to climate actions, climate solutions. Daniel: So there's lessons that things that we can really that can really inspire our response to climate change. And then there's also things like, Oh, we can also do better than we did before. So it's both. Elizabeth: It also helps us get to the idea of unintended consequences. Mm hmm. Right. Because World War Two, as a person of Jewish descent, I'm not going to say that the emissions we created from World War Two were worth it. Mm hmm. Mobilizing around World War Two was crucial in facing this threat of fascism that was harming people's lives around the world. And if you look at the data emissions trends from World War Two, it's through the charts. Daniel: Right after the greenhouse gas emissions that were emitted from tanks and industry and building ships and all of that for World War Two. Those greenhouse gas emissions contributed a lot to climate change. Elizabeth: It was really one of the the key moments of globalization that set forth the global trade routes that today we take for granted so much the ways in which the country flipped itself to bring parts together from around the country faster. Daniel: It really set globalization and industrialization on a new trajectory. Elizabeth: Yeah. And then the economic prosperity after World War Two, the ways in which cash was just flushed into the system for the everyday American. Hmm. That also made it so that we were buying a lot more. We were consuming a lot more. Our carbon emissions per person really increased. We went from one car households to two car households. We started getting washing machines. These are all things that are good. But really get to this idea of progress and how progress looks so different for different people and the unintended consequences that can arise from it. Daniel: It's super interesting to hear you make the connection from, you know, this starting point of responding and mobilizing to World War Two, and then you start seeing all these knock on effects that are very connected to climate change, but also connected to justice and inequality. And that it starts as one thing, you know, or it seems like one thing responding to World War Two. And then you see that it shifts the trajectory of history in a million ways afterward. Elizabeth: Yeah. And I think that's the coolest thing about Park Service sites, is that every site across the country just has their fingers in almost every period of history you can. And so if you look at all of these sites across the timeline, you actually have a pretty comprehensive picture of who we've been as a society. The decisions that have been made intentionally or unintentionally, that have kind of been steering us towards this current moment of intense climate change. Daniel: Okay, so now you're working for the Climate Change Response Program and you're talking to park rangers around the country. You've been doing workshops and stuff and you're asking, what do you want visitors to your park to take away from a program about climate change? What have you found out from that, from those conversations? Elizabeth: The more that we bring out the history of that park site and how people were embedded into that story, the more we see ourselves in it, both in the people of the past as well as who we can become as a future people. I think rangers are searching for ways to communicate to the public that there's still hope and ways to help people find their own place in getting involved. Daniel: Yeah, which is pretty different from the like, traditional approach which focuses on, you know, nature and animals and the impacts climate change is having on those things, like the impacts of climate change on, you know, melting glaciers. It's pretty different. Elizabeth: I think grounding people in the realization that there is work to be done, that we are not doomed at this point. Like I actually think we're in the best time to be alive because we're not really locked into anything. We were locked into a certain amount, but it's not it's not concrete from here. There's so many different ways to make it better or worse, depending on the actions we take. And I think that when we as interpretive staff, when we help people realize what their role is in the story, help open up that space, that there are things to be done, then we've really succeeded. And I think there's different ways to do that. And the field as a whole hasn't really come up with the perfect way. Daniel: At the end of a program on climate change, everyone wants to know, you know, what can I do? What can I do about climate change for me? And what do you say? Elizabeth: One of the resources I really like to share is called a climate Venn diagram created by Dr. Ayana Elizabeth: Johnson, who's a really prominent marine biologist. She's a Black woman in science, and she really explores the intersection between race and climate. Daniel: And so she has these overlapping circles of a Venn diagram describing how anyone can get involved in working on climate change. Elizabeth: Yeah. Okay. And the questions she asks you to consider are: What do you enjoy doing? Daniel: Mm hmm. Elizabeth: What work needs to be done? And what are you good at? Hmm. And where the intersection of these three circles overlaps is a space for you to think about your own contribution. I think the good and the bad news about climate change is that it's so big and it's so overwhelming that it can feel almost like there's too much to do. But that also means that almost anything that you find joy in, there's a space for you in a climate solution, in a climate action. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: So tell me what it's what it's been like talking to people around the country, talking to park rangers around the country about how they are doing climate change interpretation. Elizabeth: Yeah. So I led a training recently at the Channel Islands. Mm hmm. And one of the things we talked about is trying to put ourselves in the shoes of people who are making history. Hmm. I think we, like, personally have thought about history kind of passively. A lot. Mm hmm. Where it just kind of happens. Daniel: Where it's, like, governed by forces beyond actual people. And we forget that there are real people with names and, like, feelings involved. Elizabeth: Yeah, exactly. Mm hmm. And so we. I did this both in my programs and with park rangers, where we came up with a list of social changes that have happened over time. Mm hmm. Things like curb cuts on sidewalks or sewage systems. Daniel: Curb cuts being like, allowing wheelchairs to go onto sidewalks. Elizabeth: Yeah. I didn't know this, but, you know, it's only been within the last 30 or 40 years or so that those became prevalent. If you were in a wheelchair before then, it was just hard to navigate cities. Daniel: Curbs did not have like, slopes that you could go up. Elizabeth: No. Daniel: So what about the sewage systems then? What's the story behind that one? Elizabeth: Yeah, I mean, people just used to toss their refuse out in the street. Right? It was like, kind of gross. And no one was really taking responsibility for cleaning it up. And that obviously created a lot of diseases. Mm hmm. You know, a lot of these social systems that we take for granted today, also, a lot of our rights, our voting rights, our civil rights, the fact that women can have bank accounts and credit cards, these are things that we're not just handed to us. They were fought for by people, like you said, with very real emotions against systems that seemed pretty insurmountable. Daniel: You're describing an understanding of history that is humanizing. You know, there were people throughout history that created the world we live in today. Elizabeth: And, you know, I imagine that if you asked an abolitionist, do you think that you can actually fight against this massive economic system that profits off of bodies for free. Daniel: That being slavery. Elizabeth: Yeah, I imagine that people would have felt pretty pessimistic about the outcome. Yeah, I don't think it was a guarantee at any point that they were going to win. And I think that reminding ourselves that these people and movements had feelings and doubts and insecurities and were just people trying to rise to a moment to confront a crisis that they believed was important and reimagine a world that didn't rely on the systems that they were lived in and trapped in. That's huge. And helping my thinking about climate change. Daniel: Yeah, that's really powerful that there's lessons we can apply to climate change today. Elizabeth: And I think that there's almost a skepticism of rangers about and historians about going into the emotions of history. Mm hmm. We think of history as kind of this set of facts that are almost emotionless. And that's how it's been taught too. Mm hmm. Devoid of the human experience. But when you start to go into that and you start to realize that history is just a bunch of people's opinions smushed together that you're thinking about, and those people weren't living in the same world as us, but experiencing the same feelings as us. Then you start to understand a lot more how to apply that into the future, how to confront the pessimism, the anxiety, the doubt, the insurmountable pity we feel of climate change. And look at times in the past where people have overcome these same feelings and persevered through them to create the world we live in now, that sometimes we take for granted. Daniel: Yeah, it's really powerful to imagine the early days of World War Two and how daunting that must have felt, or the the fight against slavery, or the civil rights movement or the the right to vote that these were such big challenges. And climate change is a similar challenge today that as an individual, it's pretty easy for it to feel so overwhelming. Elizabeth: Yeah, I think climate change is one of those issues that both manages to make it feel like it's your fault individually, that anything you do is causing it. Daniel: Mm hmm. Elizabeth: But also that there's nothing you can do to solve it. And that tension is really hard. Daniel: Yeah. Elizabeth: I think one of my turning points in my own interpretation of climate change came from when I was willing to let myself be more vulnerable with the public. Daniel: Opening up a little bit. Elizabeth: Yeah. In my programs, I would literally say to people, I'm going to take off my ranger persona now. I'm going to be me, a human who has a job and wears a badge. And I think by doing that, and giving people space to feel the very, very real emotions around climate change, that's almost a necessary foundation to seeing yourself in the solution for climate change. Daniel: Which is a big part of what you're trying to do then, is is help park rangers interpret climate change and tell the stories of climate change in a way that. Everyone can feel like they're part of the story. Elizabeth: Yeah, I mean climate change is a human-caused issue, and it has to have a human-caused solution. And I would say the thing that we know that sets us apart as people is our ability to learn from the past. And so this toolkit really or my approach to climate change interpretation, wants to look at a full picture of the past and really take all of the lessons and all of the humanity we can from it. Daniel: Good and bad. Elizabeth: Good and bad. Daniel: I wanted to ask you about this, you know, to push back on that idea a little bit. Like climate change is so huge and difficult and like it's a tough topic on its own. So why do you want to go dragging history into it? It feels like it could make it even more difficult. Elizabeth: It absolutely could. But climate change is not a simple story. And so when you try to simplify it and you try to just look at it through a very baseline lens, you're going to get a simple solution. And we know this is not a problem with a simple solution. Daniel: Okay. Elizabeth: Yeah, it's interesting. In my career as a Park Service interpreter, the two things I've really focused on are talking about climate change and then elevating these undertold stories. And I found that when I bring up these undertold stories, the things that we kind of think about as touchy. Daniel: Mm hmm. Elizabeth: That's when people are push back the most. You know, they're like, "why are you talking about this?" Daniel: This sensitive topic? Elizabeth: Right. Daniel: Okay. Elizabeth: But my job as a historian, as the nation's historian Daniel: And storyteller. Elizabeth: And storyteller, is to tell all American stories. Mm hmm. We have a Park Service initiative called, "telling all Americans' stories." And historically, over time, those stories were from a pretty small group of Americans. They were generally white, powerful, affluent men stories who absolutely had a role in shaping who this nation is. And we were giving them such an outsized amount of attention that when we pull our attentions back a little and bring in other narratives, it almost can feel like a statement, when in reality it's just broadening the picture. At MuirWoods where I worked, the story we told for decades and decades very largely revolved around three powerful, affluent men who absolutely helped save the forest. Without them, it would not have been there. But as a woman who doesn't have a lot of money to throw around and causes, I was like, "okay, so that's not my solution. I don't see myself there." And so when we started to expand the story and say who else was involved, what other characters were in this, then I started to see myself more in it. The women who helped fight for and saved Muir Woods didn't have the right to vote. So if you look at today, some of the people who are going to be most affected by climate change -- youth -- they can say, "Oh, I don't have the right to vote yet, but I can see instances in which people used a different form of social pressure to get the cause that they cared about to succeed." Daniel: That's interesting. The story of Muir Woods, this park unit in the Bay Area. The wealthy, powerful white men that, that pushed to create and preserve those trees in that forest... That's not the whole story. Elizabeth: Yeah. And I would say from the time the forest was protected in 1908, up until 2018, that's the only story we told. What that story left out was that for generations and time immemorial, that forest was protected and stewarded by the Indigenous people of that land, the Huimen Coast Miwok, and the first movement to actually try to mobilize around and protect their woods was this elite, upper class white women's group called the California Club, who didn't appear on a single sign. And so when we started to expand that story, to bring in the role of women, to bring in the stewardship of Indigenous people, not only did we show that there were more spaces in social movements, there were more people at play than just the well-known figureheads. Mm hmm. Not only that, but there were these really deep pools of knowledge on how to best steward the place that we all care about so much. Daniel: Yeah. So you're bringing in these other stories, you're broadening the history of Muir Woods, but you're trying to do this across the Park Service. And it's, it's good because it's more inclusive, like you're including more people in the story. But it's also helpful because you're getting a deeper and richer understanding of who we are and what this country is. Elizabeth: Yeah. Daniel: And I think it also maybe helps us imagine who we can be. Elizabeth: I completely agree with that. I think an argument I hear a lot about bringing up these touchy histories is like, "Oh, you're just focusing on the bad stuff." Hmm. But, I mean, if you think about raising a kid, if you're not talking about the bad stuff, how are they going to learn how to be a better adult? Like, it's that it's those formative lessons that teach us who we were and who we want to become. And I think the more I learn about the power of storytelling, the more I really appreciate our role in doing it. And we've actually found that when people today are listening to the same engaging story, their heart rates synchronize across time, across space, so their heartbeats will literally sync up when listening to that same engaging story, which shows that our bodies are just hardwired for this. Across time immemorial, we've used stories to dictate who we are, whether we're talking about creation myths. Or, you know, biblical narratives or the Grimm's Fairy tales. Daniel: Or the story of World War Two. Elizabeth: Yeah, exactly. Daniel: It really emphasizes the importance of what we're trying to do in the National Park Service and what interpretation is trying to do. Elizabeth: Exactly. Use that power of place to help people realize their place in a really broad story over time. Daniel: Elizabeth, where are you seeing some really cool stories emerging from the national parks? Where are you seeing history and climate change really intersect in an interesting way? Because I know you're talking to people all around the country. Elizabeth: Yeah. This product that I've mentioned earlier, I think at this point we've collaborated with around 40 different park sites around the country. Daniel: This History and Hope Toolkit and program you're, you're working on. Elizabeth: Mm hmm. I think sometimes the strongest stories are the ones that are the least expected. Mm hmm. So, for example. Daniel: Like, everyone expects Glacier National Park to be talking about melting glaciers and climate change. That's old news, right? Elizabeth: Exactly. Like, how does that really apply to me? Mm hmm. Daniel: Do you have any examples of parks that are telling these cool stories about history and climate? Elizabeth: One of my favorites is from Maggie Walker National Historic Site out in Virginia, where it's a woman who was really central to a lot of conversations around Black economic empowerment in the early 1900s. Daniel: She was a social justice activist. Elizabeth: Absolutely. Daniel: Okay. So you don't really expect that to be connected to climate change. Elizabeth: Right. And, you know, it's a story that by and of itself deserves to be told. Mm hmm. But Maggie Walker also lived through a period where her house went from candlelight to electricity, which at the surface level is like, okay, she lived through a period of technology change. Mm hmm. But then you start to think about how much society changed when she lived through it. Mm hmm. Like, her house became electric. She got a dishwasher at some point or something like that. Like these little things that we take for granted today are actually immense amounts of societal change of everyone who lived through it. Mm hmm. And when we think about the scope of the challenges today for climate change, it can feel big. You know, it's like, wow, so much needs to change. But that has happened time and time and again. Daniel: So she's living through a really revolutionary time. Elizabeth: Mm hmm. Yeah. I mean, if there's one trait I would call humans, it's adaptable. Hmm. Especially if there's something that can make our lives better. Mm hmm. So Maggie Walker went from candlelight to electricity? Mm hmm. She went from a horse and buggy to a car. And not just any car, but an electric car, which I didn't know was invented in the early 1900s. Daniel: Wow. Elizabeth: Right. So when confronted with a better option, we've taken it time and time and again. And I feel like right now we're we're nervous about the changes that need to happen. But that's just been a part of the experience of being a person over time. Daniel: And it's cool that National Park Sites can tell that story about how we've gone through these big changes in the past. Elizabeth: Yeah. And, you know, that's at a historic site in Virginia. But the infrastructure at Glacier has changed over time too. Daniel: Right. Elizabeth: It's incorporated these new technologies. So you come here thinking about, oh, the glaciers are melting. We've heard that story. Mm hmm. It's not that it's not an important story. But what if, when you're here, you can also think about the ways that society has adapted to new technologies over time? Daniel: Right. The first park headquarters was here with, you know, logs of wood. Elizabeth: Probably from the park. Daniel: Yeah. And, you know, today we have solar panels on the roof. It's a big change. Elizabeth: That's a story of the innate creativity, adaptability and just pioneering spirit of people. And I think that's something that when I look to the future, I identify those as traits we really need to embody. Daniel: And we really need to tell stories like that in the national parks. Elizabeth: Yeah, exactly. Daniel: So looking at our past, looking at our history, that helps us. It helps us imagine the future and see how we've gone through these changes before. And I think it can help us think more creatively about the solutions that we're working on right now, like the solutions to climate change that we're implementing. Have you seen that play out or how have you seen that? Elizabeth: I think that's spot on. I think that sometimes in the environmental movement it feels like there's a crisis of imagination. That we feel like we have to settle for these options that aren't really getting to the root of the problem. You know, if we put-- if we transition to solar panels everywhere, that is fantastic. And I think what that's missing also is that the same systems that have created climate change are also the same systems that have really set up and exacerbated a lot of the social inequalities that we're still very much grappling with. I think in both of these cases, there's the idea of something being deemed as "expendable." And I put that in air quotes, but I'm on a podcast, so imagine those air quotes around the word expendable. Mm hmm. Where we think about people as expendable. We absolutely as a society thought about people who were enslaved as expendable. Mm hmm. We thought about the Indigenous stewards and caretakers of this land as expendable for this idea of progress. And progress has brought us to where we are today. And it was done so with the mentality that there was okay things to sacrifice along the way. And I see that a lot of times in climate solutions as well, where we say, "okay, well, we can get some stuff out of this. You know, we can just try to reduce our emissions without looking at the people or places or land that have been viewed expendable along the way." Daniel: Tell me about this "yes/and" approach to history. Elizabeth: Well, the "yes/and" approach, I think, comes from improv like. "Yes... And. I like that idea -- and." Mm hmm. And I think we can "yes/and" the successes of history. And a great example of that is the creation of the National Park Service that you and I both work for. This Service that we are a part of, the National Park Service, was a revolutionary idea. That we should protect places around the country for future generations. Mm hmm. We've been called America's best idea. Mm hmm. But the "and" part of that comes from the ways in which the creation of the National Park Service disregarded the existence, the sovereignty and the intentional land management of the places that we've protected by Indigenous people. Daniel: So you're saying the National Park Service is a pretty cool idea? Elizabeth: Yes. America's best. So they say. Yeah. Daniel: So yes. And we can do better as we go forward. We can do better. Elizabeth: Yeah. And I think the way to do better now is that we have land that's been protected through this incredible idea -- and -- what are the ways that we can incorporate those deep pools of knowledge from those Indigenous people over time? These are people who have lived and sustained and stewarded landscapes for time immemorial, who have so much knowledge accumulated and built up. And there's actually there's been studies that have shown that land stewarded intentionally by Indigenous people can be more productive, more biodiverse than land that's just been left alone. Kind of reshapes our idea of what a wilderness is. Daniel: It's kind of hard, I think, for people to imagine the world they want to see. It's easier to imagine the worst case scenario. Elizabeth: I completely agree with that. And I think, you know, that gets back to what we were talking about earlier, where if you look at movements of the past, I think it was a huge feat of the imagination that they even fought for those big social changes. I imagine that if you were enslaved, thinking about an economic system that didn't revolve around slavery must have been mind boggling. Daniel: It would have been a really, you know, sci-fi utopian kind of thinking to imagine a whole different world. Elizabeth: Yeah. And almost any social change you can think of, the world that they fought for was must have just felt incomprehensible at the time. The way that sometimes I feel myself thinking about climate change now, which is when I think about a just equitable climate future, it can almost feel incomprehensible and insurmountable. Hmm. And I think that that's that's par for the course with these movements. That's a part of the process. And it's okay to let yourself feel that and recognize that we've gone through that before. We've come out on the other end. Daniel: Yeah. That studying our our own history can be an inspiring reminder of that. [drumbeat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: For people going to interpretive programs, what motivates them to take action on anything, I guess, but what motivates people to take action on climate change? Elizabeth: I think the verdict is still out, but from what I've seen, the biggest discourse is kind of around, is it fear or is it hope? Daniel: Like, should this ranger program inspire people and be hopeful so that they'll, they'll take action? Or should it scare them? And should they be worried into taking action? Elizabeth: Yeah, exactly. You know, I think that there's merit in both. We don't want to sugarcoat the fact that the climate is changing. We are locked in to a degree of changes. Daniel: Mm hmm. The glaciers here are melting, and the climate has already warmed quite a bit. Elizabeth: Yeah. And I think that if you try so hard to be hopeful that you don't acknowledge any of that, then you're, you're in a false sense of hope. Mm hmm. And there's one of the biggest ideas I've seen around it is that if you're talking about hope, there's two different types of hope. There's the hope that something will happen. Someone will do something kind of that passive hope, that passive you of history we've been talking about. And then there's an active hope. The hope that if you do something, it can make an impact. And one of my favorite quotes is by an author, Rebecca Solnit, where she says, "Hope isn't just a lottery ticket that you sit on the couch clutching. It's an ax that you break down doors with." And I think that's really where I lean towards, is I want to instill in you the confidence that there's still things to be done, but that it's not just going to happen. Nothing in history has just happened. There are people pushing forces, and you're going to be involved in that, and the causes you care about, or it's just going to happen to you. [hopeful guitar and drumbeat plays] Daniel: I love that. Thanks so much for talking with us about all this today. Elizabeth: Yeah. Thank you so much for having me. [music continues to play] Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives, from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one. The Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Apr 16, 2024 · 38 min

    Climate and the Future of Forests with Dr. Tyler Hoecker

    A conversation with Dr. Tyler Hoecker, who studies forest ecology and the changing dynamics of fire as the climate warms. This episode was recorded in August of 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Climate change in Glacier: https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/climate-change.htm Dr. Hoecker’s research: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0378112721009051 --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: This is Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. My name is Peri, and I'm talking to you from the dense forests of northwest Montana. This episode is an interview that my co-host Daniel did with forest ecologist Dr. Tyler Hoecker about how wildfires exacerbated by climate change are upending our forests. This episode is part of a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. These episodes don't have to be listened to in any order, each one stands on its own. And they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate over one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. [drum and synth beat starts to play] I find fire fascinating, so I think this conversation was one of my favorites. I feel like I've heard most of the usual stories about wildfire so many times, so I was really excited to hear about Dr. Hoecker's research on how forests are responding to climate change. It felt like a new angle. I learned a lot, and I hope you do too. [beat concludes] Daniel Lombardi: So, Dr. Tyler Hoecker, welcome to Headwaters. Tyler Hoecker: Thanks so much for having me. Daniel: It feels pretty good that we're talking today, or auspicious or bad, on like just this week the smoke really rolled into the park. We have several new fires burning right around us. It's very much fire season, so it's a good time to have this conversation. Will you introduce yourself and talk about kind of your job and the work you're doing right now? Tyler: Sure. So I'm Tyler Hoecker. I'm a research scientist at the University of Montana in Missoula. And right now I'm doing research trying to understand how climate change is changing fire activity across the western U.S. and trying to project how fires and forests might change into the future. Daniel: How did you get into fire stuff, like how did that become the path for you? Tyler: I think everybody is sort of drawn to fire, in a, in a weird way, you know, fires are pretty important, has been an important like catalyst, you know, for civilization. And so I think it's sort of just a compelling thing. Daniel: It's kind of a universal concept, that fire and flames draw your eye and like draw you in. Tyler: Absolutely. Absolutely. It's hard to think about forests in the West without thinking about fire. I remember as an undergrad, I took a a forest ecology and policy class, and we went to a community fire meeting. And I just remember being really fascinated by the process. And it was clear to me pretty quickly that it was really important at shaping forests in the West. And so I was really interested in understanding it. And, you know, it's sort of interesting to think back on that. You know, that was 2010. And, you know, I think fire scientists probably understood what was what was unfolding in terms of fire in the West. But I don't think anybody would have been able to really predict, you know, what's happened in the last 13 years since in terms of the amount of area burned every year. And, yeah, the types of fire events that we're seeing every summer now. Daniel: Yeah. So let's jump into some fire ecology. At one point I was hiking up Mt. Brown and it was kind of in the fall, early fall, the fireweed was blooming and like the sun was rising and kind of glowing through it. And there was the cloud layer was like fog all in the forest. And so I was walking through that and it had burned, you know, like a year before. So everything is charred and crisp and like pretty black. There's no living trees. But in that morning light, it was so beautiful. And for me it was kind of like a pivot point. This, like black backed woodpecker, flew down and landed on the tree in front of me and was feasting on beetles that like the fire-killed trees. And I was like, Oh my gosh, like fire is not ugly. The aftermath of fire can be really beautiful. And I knew intellectually that it's also ecologically important. So maybe we can start with something like that. Like why, why is fire important in a place like Glacier National Park? Tyler: So one of the things that I like to, to maybe start by kind of acknowledging or stating is that fire, in seasonally dry places, is inevitable. I mean, it's important to think about the benefits and the risks and things like that. And it's also important to acknowledge that it's inevitable. And it's just it is. And it will always, it will always happen in seasonally dry places. Daniel: Yeah. So like, this place gets dry. There's lots of things growing here -- trees -- it's going to burn. Tyler: Exactly. And so that means that everything that we see when we look at forests in fire-prone places are shaped by fire. Right? And so the species that we see, that's the forest structure or kind of the age of the trees and the way that they're arranged on the landscape in a place like Glacier, that that is driven primarily by fire and the history of fire. Daniel: The animals and the trees that have lived here for millions of years have lived here with fire for billions of years. They always have coexisted. Tyler: Exactly. But the biggest thing is that fires create what we call, like heterogeneity. You know, the opposite of homogeneity. Heterogeneity is variation in species composition, in structure and physical structure of a vegetation. And that heterogeneity confers resilience, right? And so a forest and an ecosystem that's heterogeneous, that's diverse and variable is going to be more resilient to future disturbances, to different pressures and stresses to insects and pathogens to drought. Daniel: So would you say, when you say that fire creates heterogeneity in an ecosystem, in Glacier National Park, it kind of sounds like you're saying fire creates complexity. Tyler: Absolutely. Daniel: Okay. And that creates complexity means different habitats, which means that allows for biodiversity for more kinds of life to live in one place. Tyler: Absolutely. So biodiversity basically emerges from complexity. Right? A complex system has more niches, has more opportunities for different types of organisms, and that creates a richer system. Daniel: Compared to, say, a cornfield or like a forest that's all just one kind of -- lodgepole pine say. You know, it's just all one tree. So only certain kinds of birds, only certain kinds of animals are going to live there. You start mixing that up, you burn it and different trees start growing, then you're getting more complexity. You're getting more biodiversity. Tyler: Yep. Daniel: That's cool. Tyler: Yeah. Daniel: Not every tree in the forest has the same adaptations to fire. Some trees are adapted where they like a little bit of fire. Others, they only grow in places that probably aren't going to burn. So maybe you could break that down a little bit. Like, what are the strategies for trees? What are your options? Tyler: Right. So trees or plants, you know, have these, as you described them, quirks, right. These characteristics. And in, and in sort of the ecology world we call those traits, but I think makes more sense to call like a strategy. So basically your options are to avoid fire, to be a species that can either hang out for a long period in the understory and during a long fire free period, or can tolerate cool, wet sites where fire is less common and happens never or very infrequently. So those are species like subalpine fir, Engelmann spruce, western red cedar, western hemlock. Those are trees that grow in regions or in microclimates that tend not to burn very often or tend to burn very infrequently. And so there's a long fire-free interval in which they can establish and become dominant. Daniel: So if you're familiar with the park, then like somewhere like the Fish Creek campground or the Avalanche area. These are like little pockets in the landscape where a creek goes through the middle, they get a lot of rain right there, they get a lot of snow. And so you have a lot of cedar and hemlock, these forests that are really dense and dark and mossy, you can just feel that it doesn't feel like fire comes through there very often. Tyler: Exactly. Yeah. And so the other strategy or another strategy is to resist fire, and to survive fire as an individual. So those are species like ponderosa pine, western larch, and they have things like thick bark. They drop their lower branches, so that there aren't ladder fuels that would carry flame to the crown. They have rot-resistant wood, so that when their trunk is scarred by fire, that exposed wood doesn't rot. Hmm. Daniel: And then there's all kinds of species that are-- there's all kinds of other strategies, too. Tyler: Yeah. And so there's there's maybe sort of a third strategy around what we might say, fire embracing, or fire resilient. Daniel: Fire loving. Tyler: Yeah, fire loving. And so these are species that, like in the case of lodgepole pine, they've adapted a strategy where individuals are killed, but they have mechanisms for their genes to carry on. So older lodgepole pine tend to produce some serotinous cones, and they're, they're cones that are closed, and they're bound up by resin. And serotinous cones stay closed until they're heated by fire. Daniel: They're waiting for fire. Tyler: They're waiting for fire. And so this is a strategy. This is like putting all your money under the mattress and waiting for that opportunity to strike it big. Right? So the individual bearing those cones is probably dead, as are all of the individuals around it. But what you have is this environment that's perfect for lodgepole pine seedlings. It's bare mineral soil, it's high light, it's low in competition. And so they seed, you know, millions of seeds onto a, into an environment that's perfect for for their regeneration. And so then you have a new single-age cohort that recovers after the fire. Daniel: Interesting. Tyler: The other sort of version of being a fire-embracing, or fire-resilient, is to be able to resprout. So that things like aspen or cottonwoods or shrubs. Daniel: That is they're not good at surviving the fire, but they'll grow back faster than every -- all the other trees. Right. Tyler: So they survive in a way, their underground structures survive. The top is killed and they can re sprout from that underground. Those underground root structures. Daniel: It doesn't have to regrow its roots, it's already got them. Tyler: Yep. It's starting with a bit of a trust fund there and so can do really well. Daniel: So there's we have all these trees in the park. We've got ponderosa pine in the North Fork, we've got cedar, we've got big dense forests of lodgepole and larch. We've got it all in Glacier. It's a pretty diverse place. So what is the fire regime or what is the history and pattern of wildfire, naturally, in Glacier National Park? Tyler: Yeah. So, you know, one of the things that's really fun and cool about studying fire in Glacier is that high tree diversity. So you have all of these different individual species that sort of respond and coexist with fire in different ways like we talked about. And what that also means is that the fire regime across Glacier is different depending on where you are. So most of Glacier is what we would call Subalpine forest. So that's forests that are dominated by species like Engelmann Spruce subalpine fir douglas fir, larch, western white pine a little bit. Daniel: Okay. Tyler: So these are sort of the mid to high elevation, you know, before you get into that alpine whitebark pine zone. Those are forests that burn infrequently and at high severity. So infrequent in that context means every 150 to 300 years or so. Daniel: Wow. Tyler: So that's what we would call infrequent. Mm hmm. And because there's this long time period between fires, there's a long opportunity or a lot of opportunity for biomass to accumulate. And so that means that when fires do come through, they burn at high severity, they burn really hot, they kill most of the trees, they burn off the organic matter on the, on the surface of the soil. There are some places in Glacier that have a more frequent and less severe fire regime. So places like the North Fork, because they're in sort of a warm, dry microclimate and because they have species that can survive fire, that sort of creates the conditions for a more frequent fire regime, which would be burning every 5 to 50 years or maybe 5 to 100 years. Daniel: So it could be pretty common. Yeah, every five years. Tyler: Yeah so that's-- and then at low severity, meaning that relatively few individuals are killed in a fire. Right. So maybe some trees are killed, but most of the large mature individuals survive and maybe the small trees in the understory are killed. Hmm. It's also important to note that in a lot of places, those frequent fire regimes were supported by human burning, you know, by by cultural burning, by Indigenous people. Daniel: Okay. So the park has some areas that historically would have burned pretty regularly, maybe sometimes even as much as every five or ten years, and burning at a fairly low severity. It's clearing out the shrubs and burning the grasses around the trees, burning some of the little trees. But most of the park is stand-replacing fires. Most of the park is not burning that often. In recent years we've had the Howe Ridge fire. We've had the the Sprague fire. What kind of fires are those? Are those the frequent fires or the infrequent ones that happen only every few hundred years? Tyler: So those two fires together were a really cool opportunity as a scientist, because what we had there was fires that burned in forests that were historically pretty similar on either side of Lake McDonald. And those both of those fires burned almost into that Cedar-Hemlock zone, but mostly in that kind of mid-elevation subalpine forest zone. And the Sprague Fire was really kind of what we think of as typical of the historical fire regime in Glacier. So fire where those trees were in that range of 150 to 300 years old. So you had old forests, pretty big trees, relatively dense and had not experienced fire for a long time. Daniel: So this the Sprague fire then, I remember when that started, and that's the fire that ultimately burned down Sperry Chalet. This-- this is a fire that you're saying is what we would expect in Glacier National Park, that those trees, 200, 300 years old, they're kind of right on schedule to to burn. Tyler: Right. Daniel: But then now things are changing. What is the relationship, if we step back for a second, between fire and climate? We know things are getting hotter. I'm sure that's changing fire here. Tyler: Yeah. So all fire regimes are driven by three things, basically. By vegetation, climate and ignitions. So we kind of we talk about like a fire triangle defined by those three things. But which is more important or more influential varies from place to place. And so in a place like Glacier, ignitions are not particularly limiting, and vegetation is not particularly limiting. You know, if you think about the forests of Glacier, they have a lot of biomass, right? We have a lot of trees. There's plenty of fuel on the landscape. Okay. And so what tends to limit fire activity in Glacier is climate. Daniel: Because we also have a lot of lightning strikes. Tyler: Right. So we almost always have the vegetation ingredient. We almost always have the ignition ingredient, at least during the summer. And what determines whether we have fires and in particular what drives whether we have big fires -- big fires that burn for a long time -- that's really driven by climate. Daniel: So to put it simply, there are always enough trees here for a good fire. It's really just, is the climate dry enough for it to happen? Tyler: Exactly. Yeah. There's always enough vegetation on the landscape to burn. And it's whether or not the, the environment and the weather is suitable for burning. Daniel: So now maybe tell you could tell me some more about then, what are the trends? What's been happening in recent decades? What are we kind of forecasting to see? I mean the headline we know is it's, it's getting hotter. Climate change is warming this place up. How is that affecting fire? Tyler: Sure. So because climate is a, is a big driver of all fire regimes, and especially in places like Glacier, where climate is the main driver of the fire regime, fire activity is really sensitive to changes in climate. Daniel: Like big picture, what are we seeing across the American west? I mean, I think we're seeing more fire, right? Tyler: Yeah. So we're seeing we're seeing longer and hotter fire seasons. So we're seeing that fires can happen for more of the year. They can last longer and they're burning hotter and burning at higher severity, affecting more of the landscape. Daniel: One study I've seen estimated across the broader American west, something like doubling. We've already seen a doubling of the amount of wildfire burned since the eighties. Tyler: Yeah. And so we also know that we can see this trajectory of increasing area burned. And the other thing that's different now is that these forests are burning and then trying to recover in a climate that's very different than it was 100 years ago. Daniel: This is really where your research comes in then. Tyler: Right, and then seedlings are trying to reestablish in an environment that's several degrees warmer and much drier than it was when the last fire happened. So it's kind of this combination of increasing area burned and increasingly warm, dry conditions that make it more difficult for trees to reestablish after a fire. So that's part of what makes modern fire activity so different. [drumbeat plays, marking a transition] Daniel: So maybe we could talk then now about the Howe Ridge fire, and as an example of kind of how the regeneration is changing. Tyler: Right. Yeah. So some useful context for the Howe Ridge fire is that it burned entirely within the footprint of the 2003 Robert Fire. You know, that was the conventional wisdom in the Northern Rockies is that places that have recently burned are unlikely to burn again for at least a few decades. Daniel: But so then in 2018, 15 years later, it burned again, like really just the exact same spot. And that was unexpected for fire managers and scientists. Right? Tyler: Right. Daniel: Okay. I was watching the fire the night it really took off, burning downhill in a way you wouldn't expect. And a, a woman was watching and crying about the fire. And I was talking with her and I, I didn't really know what to say. And I was like, "well, yeah, I, I didn't think a fire could burn in a spot where it had already burned just 15 years ago." And she was like, "Well, that's climate change. I know it is." And that kind of stunned me. But I was like, I guess she's right. Tyler: Yeah. And so I talked about how the area that was burned in the Sprague fire was really old and this forest was sort of at a stage where it was, you know, sort of ready to burn. Right. And when that fire burned through, there was all these sort of material legacies left that allowed the forest to recover rapidly. Right. So there are stands that had a lot of serotinous cones. There were big live trees all around the edge of the burned area to, to seed into that area. And when we went back into the the area that the Sprague Fire burned, it was basically like walking through wildflower meadows. It was like a sea of hollyhock, like I've never seen. Daniel: Wow. Tyler: And then there'll be other areas that were like a sea of fireweed. Hmm. And that's sort of like what we expect post-fire landscapes to look to look like in the Northern Rockies. Daniel: So this is really fire being an agent of change and diversity and beauty, the kind of the way we'd expect fire to be here historically or traditionally. Tyler: Right. Daniel: And that's the Sprague fire. That's really interesting. Tyler: Yeah. And so I wasn't here for it, but that's what I imagine things looked like after the 2003 Robert Fire. So the Robert Fire, or like the landscape following the Robert fire, regenerated similar to to what is happening right now after the Sprague fire. Mm hmm. And so we had these, you know, really dense stands of mostly lodgepole pine and larch. But some of the other species that we would expect, like Doug fir and spruce and fir were regenerating in that site. Mm hmm. And then 15 years later, a lot of that standing wood that was killed in 2003, a lot of those snags fell. And so you have a ton of coarse woody debris, sort of matchsticks all across Howe Ridge. So it actually creates these conditions that are really conducive to very high severity fire. Daniel: Yeah. So basically that's lots of big trees that died in 2003, they're laying on the ground, laying on top of each other. And then all in between those, coming up, are young baby trees that are, you know, less than ten feet tall sometimes. And they're really close together. So now you've got big logs and lots of little bushy trees all mixed together really tightly. Tyler: Yep. But if you have all these matchsticks and you're going weeks into the summer without rain, you have an opportunity to really dry out these big fuels. And you have all these fine fuels, like you said, sort of right there, intermixed with all of the dead wood. And then you get these warm, dry conditions, you get an ignition, and you get some strong winds, and that can that can burn these very young forests in a way that we haven't observed much before the last few years. Daniel: Hmm. So then that's where things are a little bit unexpected. Tyler: Absolutely. So we measured both of these fires two years post-fire. Okay. So the Sprague Fire we've sampled in 2019, and Howe Ridge we sampled in 2020. Daniel: Two years after they burned. Tyler: Yep. So kind of the key pieces of information that we were after was, the density of trees -- how many trees are there, you know, per area? And what's the composition? What species are they? Mm hmm. Because we wanted to know how the forest that was regenerating was similar or different to the forest that was there before. And so in general, what we found in the Sprague Fire was that the composition that we sampled in those first few years post-fire was pretty similar to the composition beforehand. So there was a little bit less of the spruce and fir, which you might expect because they're very fire sensitive and they're a little bit more shade tolerant. But we had basically the full suite of species that we saw before the fire, we were able to identify post-fire. Daniel: So the Sprague Fire like, is an example of the forest regenerating kind of as you'd expect. You see most of the trees that were there, that were burned, you see most of them growing back up. Tyler: Yeah. Daniel: And then you're comparing that to the Sprague fire, to the Howe Ridge fire. Tyler: Right. And so we did the same thing in the Howe Ridge fire, as I mentioned, you know, fires are are really complex and heterogeneous in terms of their severity. We went to places that burned at high severity because we were really thinking about the future, and thinking about as the climate becomes warmer, it's really these places that have burned at high severity that are going to give us the best sort of window into the future climate -- where forests are headed. Daniel: You didn't survey randomly. You picked intentionally areas that burned really severely. Tyler: Right. So it's not that those places characterize the whole fire or and certainly not that they characterize the whole park, but they characterize what happens in a forest when it burns twice and when it burns at high severity twice. Daniel: So what happens? Tyler: So now we've burned it twice. There's almost no material left on the landscape to provide these shaded microsites for seedlings. We're really far now from seed sources and any of the seed sources that might have been within that burned patch. Like serotinous lodgepole pine haven't had the opportunity to develop. Serotinous cones don't develop on lodgepole pine until about 30 years in. And so you have no serotinous cones. Daniel: Because they weren't ready. Tyler: They didn't have long enough to develop and mature and then even non-serotinous cones, these trees are just 15 years old, right? So they're just approaching sort of sexual maturity. So they may have some cones, but probably not very many. Uh huh. So it's kind of, you know, this combination of factors where the post-fire environment is much harsher for regeneration because we're missing this residual forest structure that acted like a canopy. And we're missing a lot of the seed sources that are, you know, essential for the forest to regenerate. Daniel: So it's kind of like the fire burning a little bit ahead of schedule. Though that may have happened in the past, we don't know quite how often, it's definitely unusual for the past century. Tyler: Right. So now you're really locked into this trajectory of only the most fire-adapted species can really reestablish in that type of setting. And so what we saw was, you know, the vast majority of our plots were either larch, dominated by larch, or lodgepole pine. Daniel: So comparing them, the two survey sites, you're swimming through fields of wildflowers on one side, and then on Howe Ridge, are you just baking in the sun? Tyler: Basically. I mean, it depends where you were, but particularly that south-facing slope of Howe Ridge that you see when you look across Lake MacDonald, you know, that's a south-facing slope. So it's particularly warm and dry. And so that area before 2003, that band along the lakeshore, that was Cedar-Hemlock forest. Hmm. And you can imagine what it's like to walk around in it, in an old-grown Cedar Hemlock forest. It's totally shaded. It's, you know, you have plants that don't even photosynthesize, there's so little sunlight. It's moist, right? Huge old trees. Daniel: Lots of moss. Tyler: Yeah. Moss and Daniel: It's like the Avalanche Creek area Tyler: It's like Avalanche Creek area. Yeah. So you go from that before 2003 to now, you have a setting where it's super dry, rocky, and it's mostly willow and some aspen, some larch, some Douglas fir seedlings coming back, but really low tree densities, particularly in that area. So I think it's just really striking that in this one particular area, we went from an old growth Cedar-Hemlock forest to a really hot, dry shrub field. Daniel: Wow. Tyler: In 20 years. Daniel: Yeah. Interesting. Tyler: So it's not that reburns are are everywhere all the time right now. But what makes them so interesting from a science perspective is that we think of them as like this window into the future. Yeah. And so that's why we want to go into those places now and start to understand what's happening. And, you know, the thing with the Cedar-Hemlock forests around Lake MacDonald is those are established centuries ago. Mm hmm. And so not only has there been modern climate change, but, you know, there were fluctuations in climate before the industrial period, and those forests established during what was called the Little Ice Age. So it was a particularly cold period at the end of the Holocene, the last kind of interglacial period. Daniel: When the park's glaciers were really robust. Tyler: Right. So that's when those forests established. So they establish in a climate that's really, really different from the climate today. Mm hmm. And so the thing that's cool and fascinating about trees is that they're really long-lived and they're really resilient. So trees can sort of be out of sync with their climate for a pretty long time. Daniel: Interesting. Tyler: Right? Because they have these big roots that can access water from a lot of different places. They create their own microclimates. Mm hmm. So the Cedar-Hemlock forests around Lake McDonald have been out of sync with climate for a while. Mm hmm. But what we're seeing is that fire is really catalyzing that change. Mm hmm. Where eventually, if the climate continued on the trajectory that it's on, even in the absence of fire, those Cedar-Hemlock forests may die during a severe drought or something like that. But fire comes through and is really the event that catalyzes that shift in in an abrupt way. Daniel: Hmm. Can you give me some more details on that? Like what's regrowing? Grass? Tyler: Yeah, I mean, what that looks like is, right now that landscape is is really dominated by shrubs. It's really open. And in a few decades, it may be like a more open forest that we find really pleasant and desirable. Or it may be that we just have this really prolonged period of recovery, and we may never get a forest recovering in the way that it was before. Daniel: Hmm. So to some extent, fire re-burning more regularly, burning hotter, more often because of climate change, it's kind of simplifying the landscape a little bit. Whereas historically, traditionally, the wildfire was more of a diversifying agent on the landscape. Tyler: I think that's a really good way to put it, yeah. And that's what's so hard to grapple with, is that like if we're able to sort of mitigate global climate change, and temperatures sort of plateau, and rates of burning plateau, it's not impossible that the historical forest types that were there can reestablish. But with all those caveats, that would still take, you know, a century to play out and it's -- a century is a long time. For people. You know, it's not so much time for trees, but it is a really long time for people. And so I think sometimes like, us, especially scientists, kind of get hung up on like, well, how permanent is this transition? Like, it's not going to be that way forever. And I think sometimes that's missing the point a little bit. Because it is that way now, and it's going to be that way for the next few decades to centuries. And that's really what matters for us. Right. And yeah, for several generations of people on the landscape. Daniel: That's what matters for us and for anyone we're ever going to meet. Tyler: Exactly. [drumbeat plays, marking a transition] Daniel: And then I guess if we're making predictions about what Glacier's going to look like 100 years from now, the safest bet is that all of these different things are going to play out in different places. Some places are going to become grassier, some -- it's going to be all of the above, I guess. Tyler: Exactly. Daniel: Okay. Tyler: What that means, though, is that, you know, those are a few different pathways that are all possible and like you said, are are all likely to play out somewhere on the landscape. Mm hmm. What's less and less likely are old forests, and forests dominated by really fire-sensitive species. Mm hmm. So old subalpine, spruce-fir forests, old cedar-hemlock forests, old whitebark pine forests, those are the types of forest that we probably will see less of in Glacier in the future. Or will occupy less of the park than they do now, or than they did in the past. Daniel: Yeah, maybe this isn't even your job to answer this, but what's the response then? What can we do to adapt to this? Tyler: I mean, I do think that, yeah, it's not my job to say exactly what we should do. I do think it's my job to try to help to provide information about, this is what we think is happening, and these are the likely scenarios. What we should do about it really depends on what do we value? What do we find desirable, what do we find undesirable? And what are we willing to do? Mm hmm. There's a really useful framework for climate adaptation that was actually developed by the National Park Service Climate Change Response program called RAD: Resist, Accept, Direct. And it's a really useful way to think about, okay, here's where we're headed. And then it helps us to decide, okay, is that where we want to go? And then if it's not, let's think about the options. We can resist -- in Glacier, resistance means when we have a really hot, dry summer and there's a fire in the park, we're going to put sprinklers in Avalanche Creek. Mm hmm. Or we're going to do things like they did in Sequoia and wrap Mylar around precious individual trees. Yeah. Right. That's resisting. Daniel: Doing everything we can to stop it from burning. Tyler: Doing everything you can, right? Or or bringing in air tankers and suppressing fires right when they start. Mm hmm. And sort of saying, Yeah, fire -- we know fire is like an important ecological process in Glacier, but we're not really comfortable with the consequences, and so we're going to resist. Daniel: Mm hmm. Tyler: Directing might be more like, let's allow certain types of of change to play out, and let's sort of give some nudges or kicks along the way to help the system move in a direction that we find more desirable. Daniel: Like prescribed burning, maybe. Tyler: Like prescribed burning, or fuel treatments, or thinning out vegetation to modify fire behavior when it does happen. Mm hmm. Or in the case of like, replanting, maybe we replant with species that are more fire-adapted or more drought-tolerant than what was there before. Instead of just replacing the forest with what exactly what was there before. Right. So that was Direct. And then Acceptance is just saying here in Glacier, we're just going to let things run their course and see what happens. Mm hmm. And just be okay with what that, whatever that is. Daniel: Yeah. And it could be, you know, in this part of Glacier, in these situations, we accept it. And in this part of Glacier, and in these circumstances, we resist or direct it. Tyler: Exactly. And so if it looks like we're headed towards a park-like larch forest, we might say, yeah let's accept that. That sounds good. We like, we like hiking through that better than we like hiking through really dense lodgepole pine. Like, maybe that's okay. But when that means, you know, a transition to invasive cheatgrass, maybe that's not acceptable to us anymore. Daniel: Yeah. Tyler: I do think it's important to just like, just at least acknowledge, you know, it is hard to watch old growth Cedar Hemlock forest burn. You know, like, even if there are beautiful wildflowers that come up after. Mm hmm. It can be beautiful and fascinating and also sad. Daniel: Yeah. And it's like, it is a natural part of this ecosystem, and yet it is also increasing in severity due to human-caused climate change. And it is like, a natural thing, and it was also like, toxically unhealthy for our lungs to live in it. [both laugh] Right. Like. Tyler: Right. Daniel: It's all of this. Tyler: Yeah. I mean, I think that's where it adds a lot of complexity to the "what to do about it" as well. Because you can take a perspective that like we're just going to let things play out and be hands off. But the reality is that we are already having an influence on this system. You know, even if we're not out there harvesting trees, you know. And so pretending that we aren't influencing the system is is sort of, I think, a sort of choosing to ignore the influence that we know we're having. Daniel: That we already have. Not to mention the 10,000 years of history of people intentionally having a lot of influence anyway. So it's like.... Tyler: Right. So I think, you know, it gets tricky and we should be careful about everything we do as, you know, like stewards of a landscape, but, like the context for stewardship is changing really rapidly, and so we might need to get more comfortable with things that we've previously found uncomfortable. [guitar and drumbeat starts to play] Daniel: Mmhmm. Well, Dr. Hoecker, thanks for coming in, chatting with me. This has been really, really fascinating. Tyler: Awesome. Thank you, Headwaters team, for having me. Pleasure to be here. [hopeful, slightly ambiguous music continues to play] Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one. The Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's, natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Apr 2, 2024 · 47 min

    Climate and the Cryosphere with Dr. Caitlyn Florentine

    A conversation with Dr. Caitlyn Florentine, research physical scientist with the US Geological Survey, who studies snow and ice in Glacier. This episode was recorded in May 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Overview of the park’s glaciers: https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/glaciersoverview.htm --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: You're listening to Headwaters, a show from the icy mountains of northwest Montana about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. My name is Peri, and this episode is an interview that my co-host Daniel did with glaciologist Dr. Caitlyn Florentine—about how the U.S. Geological Survey studies the park's glaciers. This episode is part of a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. These episodes don't have to be listened to in any order. Each one stands on its own. And they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate over one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. [background drum and bass music builds] Peri: Glaciers are the park's namesake. So digging into the details of the science around them feels like the heart of the park's story. I will say this is a fairly wonky and detailed conversation about glacier science. I studied geology, so I loved it. But I think no matter your background, you'll find it thought provoking. [music concludes] Daniel Lombardi: Dr. Caitlyn Florentine, welcome to Headwaters. Caitlyn Florentine: Hello. Thank you for having me. Daniel: Can you introduce yourself? What's your job? What do you do? Caitlyn: Yeah. My name is Caitlyn Florentine, and I work as a glaciologist for the U.S. Geological Survey. I'm a research scientist. Daniel: So what have you been up to for the past couple of days? Caitlyn: I've been here in the park doing fieldwork on Sperry Glacier. Daniel: So you were up up in the mountains for the past couple of days? Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: That's exciting. Caitlyn: Yes, We had excellent weather. Daniel: Do you think of yourself as a glaciologist or you study the cryosphere? How do you describe what you do? Caitlyn: I consider myself a cryosphere scientist, and the cryosphere is the portion of the earth that is frozen. So anything involving frozen water: land, ice, sea ice, permafrost, seasonal snow. So I'm a glaciologist, and I think of it from sort of a geophysical perspective. Daniel: You approach the study of the cryosphere, you approach glaciology from a very quantitative way. What does that mean? Caitlyn: Correct. We are interested in being very sort of precise with the numbers. So quantifying the amount of water that's entering and exiting the glacier system, for example. So rather than having a sort of description of the quality of what's happening, we also strive to put numbers to that so that we can start to be a bit more precise and exact in our understanding, which then enables us to connect to other studies and sort of systems of the of the earth. Daniel: So what made you want to get into this field? How did you get started in the study of the cryosphere? Caitlyn: I really love the mountains and to be in the mountains and there is a plethora of snow and ice in mountain environments. So I studied geology as an undergrad at Colorado College, and I was really fascinated by earth processes and I knew I wanted to study something on timescales that were relevant to humans. And so I made a choice for graduate school between volcanology and glaciology. And then my sort of recreational interests led to me choosing glaciology ultimately. Daniel: Oh, that's super interesting. Cool. Yeah, because you could have studied a geology that, you know, spans millions or even billions of years, but you had a desire to keep it on a human scale or closer to a human scale anyway. Caitlyn: Exactly. My colleagues who study seasonal snow, for example, are inspecting processes that are happening over the timescale of seconds or or hours or days. And it's sort of that opportunity to toggle the window of time that we're considering, I think really captivated me and drew me to the cryosphere. Daniel: Oh, that's okay. That plus you want to go be able to go up into the mountains for work. So it's a good fit. Well, what makes your work important? Like, why does the cryosphere matter? Why do glaciers matter? Caitlyn: The cryosphere right now is changing very quickly, relative to what we've observed in the last ten, twemty, fifty, a hundred years. And so that rate of change makes it really important that we not only document the changes that are occurring and understand the sort of pace of that change relative to the historical context, but also that we understand how these systems are working. Because with the rapid change of the cryosphere, so changes to seasonal snow and changes to glaciers, there are consequences downstream. So one sort of motivating example of why glaciers are important is the meltwater that glaciers provide. So a glacier sitting on the landscape will have some discharge of meltwater during the late summer months, at least in this part of the world. And that delivery of meltwater during a time of year that would otherwise be quite dry can be really critical for the aquatic habitats and for sort of broader water resources. Daniel: I'm hearing you say kind of two things in particular there. One of them is that studying the cryosphere is important because it's changing and it's an indicator of change. So it's helpful in understanding how the world is changing. But you're also saying glaciers and the cryosphere is made of water, and water is important to people and wildlife and everything. They're valuable for that reason. Is that right? Caitlyn: Yes, exactly. Daniel: So I don't know if you know this, Caitlyn, but historians think that maybe one of the first euro-Americans to document a glacier here was this military guy John Van Austell, in the 1870s. But the complication is that he didn't realize he was looking at a glacier when he was. And so it wasn't until like ten years later, he came back to the same area inside what is now the park with a geologist. And they're like, oh, that's a glacier. And so then this area starts to be known as a place with glaciers. Of course, the Native Americans, the Kootenai people, the Blackfeet people, they had words describing the ice of this place. They they knew this place was full of snow and glaciers and ice for a long time before that. All of this is kind of me building up to ask you, you know, like some people might be surprised that glaciers are kind of hard to spot, surprisingly. What do you think? I mean, is that does that feel right? Caitlyn: Yeah. So a glacier as it's now defined, it gets trickier when the ice masses get smaller. So if you're in a landscape where, there's, you're looking down a valley, and particularly at a time of year when the seasonal snow is absent. And so you're just looking at bare rock and bare ice, it will probably be quite evident what is a glacier versus what is not. Also, if you're looking at a glacier that has a lot of evidence of motion. So if you're looking at the terminus of a tidewater glacier and there are giant chunks of ice calving off into the ocean, then the sort of, all of the criteria for defining a glacier—ice that moves—is really in your face and really evident. In a landscape like Glacier National Park, the glaciers are much smaller and you have to hike a lot further into the mountains to observe them. And this has been true for the last last several centuries, if not last many thousands of years. This landscape did have big valley filling glaciers, but that was up to tens of thousands of years ago, maybe 12,000 years ago. Daniel: So to put that another way, if you go to Alaska or if you came to this area 12,000 years ago, you're going to notice some glaciers, like they're pretty obvious because they're huge chunks of jagged moving ice. But these days in this place, glaciers are covered by seasonal snow. They're covered in rocks. They're they're smaller. It's a more complicated thing to discern. So it's not surprising that visitors today, when they come to the park or scientists a century ago maybe weren't sure at first when they were looking at a glacier. Caitlyn: Precisely. Daniel: Well, let's get a definition out of the way, then. Really simply what what is a glacier? Caitlyn: A glacier is a body of ice that moves. Daniel: Okay, simple enough. Caitlyn: And when we talk about glaciers as moving bodies of ice, it's important to understand that, like most of us interact with ice when it's stagnant and it isn't under sufficient stress to deform and flow. But ice is actually a vicious material. So a comparable material would be honey or ketchup. So glacier ice will deform when it's under pressure. So same is how you have to hit a ketchup bottle to get the ketchup to come out of the bottle. So we sort of have two components of glacier motion. One is the ice deformation, the sort of vicious, fluid motion that I just described. And then one is the the sliding of the ice over its bed. When water gets to the bottom of a glacier, it can sort of pop the ice off its bed. And that decoupling and reduction of friction causes the glacier to move. Daniel: Interesting. One of the things I'm taking away from what you're saying is that nature and glaciers, they don't really fit in a box. We say like this is a glacier, but in reality it's kind of a continuum or a spectrum of of movement of ice and water and rocks. Right? Caitlyn: Precisely. And that's where science can be helpful for clarifying this complexity and ambiguity that would otherwise be difficult to navigate or interact with. So when we assign a scientific definition for what is a glacier, then we can start to categorize nature and put a more precise understanding to how much water is frozen in the landscape, for example. Daniel: Mm hmm. All right. Well, can you give me some more basic facts about the park's glaciers? How old are they? When, when did they form? Caitlyn: Yeah, that's an interesting question. And I think it's important when we ponder that question to understand that because the glacier is moving, it's sort of cycling ice through itself. Daniel: Hmm. Caitlyn: Every every year at all times. Daniel: So because a glacier is moving ice and it's ice that's, you know, cycling through, any piece of individual ice is going to be less old than the footprint or the existence of a glacier in that area. Caitlyn: Exactly. Daniel: Okay. Interesting. And so let's describe that process now. I guess simply glaciers, you say, are a mass of ice that's moving. How that happens is you get a lot of snow in the winter. It compresses into ice and then it flows under its weight and melts out the other end. So it's this like conveyor belt of moving ice. How do you define or how do you describe that process, like the glacier anatomy 101. Caitlyn: Yeah. So traditionally and sort of in our most well behaved, textbook understanding of a glacier, we have this body of ice that stretches from some high elevation zone to a lower elevation zone. And the high elevation zone typically can be described as the accumulation zone. So there's actively mass accumulating every year in that zone. So there's more snow that accumulates, then melts in the accumulation zone at high cold elevations. And so you have this conveyor belt motion and the snow that's accumulating, up high is compressing and eventually densifying into ice, which then is flowing towards the ablation zone. Daniel: Okay, so basically it's colder up higher and it's warmer, down lower. So the higher zones, you get a lot more snow, it compresses into ice and then the glacier flows and if it's growing, it's going to keep flowing until it reaches a place that's warm enough that it melts. Caitlyn: Precisely. Daniel: And that's happening kind of on a seasonal basis, but it's also happening on a really much larger timescale, too. Caitlyn: Yeah. However long it takes, those particles that are deposited in the high accumulation zone. The sort of timescale of their residence time, if you will, within the glacier will be defined by how fast the glacier is moving. So there are places on the Greenland ice sheet where it takes thousands of years for a snowflake that falls at the top of the ice sheet to make its way all the way to the margin and melt out. The glaciers here in Glacier National Park are much smaller, so the residence times would be much shorter. Daniel: Like, it might take a snowflake that lands at the top of Sperry Glacier a few decades to reach the melt zone or the ablation zone? Caitlyn: Precisely. And we have evidence of materials, you know, materials from the human system being deposited up high on Sperry Glacier, for example, and then melting out several decades later. So that's an indicator of the residence time. Daniel: Yeah. So the evidence we have on Sperry Glacier for that residence time, was there a a ski? That like, got lost up on Upper Sperry Glacier and then eventually melted out? Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: Okay. So do we know like, oh, this ski is from the seventies or something? Caitlyn: Precisely. Daniel: So you can say, okay, it takes a few decades for the for a snowflake or a ski to move through the glacier. Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: Interesting. Now, we should explain that moraines are—all the little crumbs of the mountain that the glacier is like scraping off, they pile up around the edge of the glacier, and that's called a moraine. So there's. Yeah. Do you have a good way to explain what a moraine is? Caitlyn: Yeah. So a moraine is a hill of poorly-sorted rock that's deposited on the edge of a glacier. So it's sort of a sharply crusted hill that hugs the edge of the glacier. And so it will form as those crumbs of rock and sediment are deposited along the margin of the glacier. When the glacier occupies the same position for a long period of time. However, when the glacier starts to retreat, that moraine will persist, so it acts as evidence and demarcating the stamp that of land that the ice occupied for some long period of time. Daniel: So that's helpful. If you're a scientist without a whole lot of fancy technology a century ago, you can just like hike around in the park and you can see a glacier, but then you can see like, Oh, there's a moraine, and I can see where the glacier used to be because the dirt pile or the moraine surrounding it is far away from the ice now. So I can tell that the glacier is retreating away from where it used to be. Caitlyn: Exactly. Daniel: Interesting. Yeah. So there's all these clues of what the glaciers have done in the past using those clues. Do we know how? How old are the park's glaciers? Caitlyn: Interesting question. There's been a sort of waxing and waning of glaciers in their present configuration. Now, 12,000 years ago, we have evidence, we know that this entire mountain range was encased in ice when we go further back in time. But the sort of predominant thinking and understanding, piecing together other geologic evidence is that these mountains were relatively ice free, roughly 7,000, 6,500 years ago. And then the the present modern glaciers sort of formed and have persisted. So it's it's an interesting, like the question of how old are the glaciers is actually sort of more interesting than one might think because it's not just a stagnant patch of ice sitting on the landscape. It's dynamic and it's interacting with the climate system and then it's physically flowing. Daniel: That's super interesting. And I think that's like my take away from this whole conversation and is that these questions that seem simple, like what is a glacier? How old are the glaciers? They seem simple, but they actually have a lot of layers. And the more you dig in to it, the more complicated it gets. Caitlyn: There are physical constraints over how fast a landscape can evolve, and that's what makes the current moment in time that we're living in right now so sort of fascinating. And what really underscores Earth science in general is we can't always look to the past for analogs of how the Earth's system responds to the sort of radiative forcing, or the mismatch between how much heat we're keeping in the Earth's system versus how much is being radiate, like vented back into space. Daniel: Okay, I really like that because in climate change thinking and sciences, there's a lot of understanding that because we're changing the climate so fast, we can't necessarily look at the past and how the climate has changed in the past to understand how it's going to change in the future. And yet, because we can't see into the future, but we have some tools to see into the past, we end up kind of relying on inevitably and maybe over relying on evidence from the past to make guesses about the future. One thing I know that glaciologists or scientists, geologists were doing here in Glacier National Park a century ago is they're they're taking the cutting edge technology that they had a camera and they're going out near and on the glaciers and they're taking pictures. How does that come back up today? Like, what is the these historic photos? What does that allow for today? Caitlyn: So if you have a camera today and go back to the exact same location, you can take the same picture. And the only thing that has changed is whatever's changed on the landscape. And so that repeat photography exercise provides a really objective qualitative documentation of how the landscape has changed. Daniel: And so that was kind of a sub-project that your team at the U.S. Geological Survey started doing in the nineties as a way, Oh, let's collect up these historic photos that scientists took a century ago, and let's take the same pictures from the same vantage point. Let's take it again. We can even try and take it on the same day or about the same time of year time a month and see how how things have changed. So it's it's a very intuitive kind of science. Just what did it look like 100 years ago with a photo? And what does it look like today? Caitlyn: Exactly. So it provides the starting point for understanding the character of landscape change. And then with our modern techniques, we can start to dig into, you know, addressing questions of what exactly is driving that change? What does that change say about what's going to happen in the future? Daniel: The repeat photos are cool because they I mean, they answer the most very basic question: are things changing? But it's it's very qualitative. As you say, it's it's not super measurable. We can see that oh, yes, Sperry Glacier is a lot smaller now, but it's hard to measure that. Which shifts us then to the science and the approach to studying the cryosphere that your team has had for the past couple of decades. Where repeat photography is a nice communication tool and a good, you know, starting point to understand the the quality of the change. But now you're bringing Newtonian physics and really measurable science to the glaciers. Caitlyn: Yeah, and I would say the repeat photography project is a precise scientific exercise. So it is providing a very objective, repeatable, you know, it's reproducible. And it's not, there's no sort of manipulation or prerogative or agenda that's influencing the outcome of that photograph. So it still is applying the scientific method of the objective to capture the same image from the same exact location. Daniel: Yeah, that's important to remember that the repeat photos aren't just, you know, 100 years ago and today there's actually a lot of intervals in there. And we can repeat photos now that were taken in the eighties or the nineties. And so I think that's important. What you say about, it is a very scientific approach, but it's also a very powerful communication tool to see how things change. [brief drum & bass music interlude] Daniel: So you mentioned this at the start, but the past few days you've been up in the park, you've been in the mountains, you've been at Sperry Glacier. So you're still venturing into the field, just like the scientists and the glaciologists a century ago. But it's a little different. Let's talk about about your past few days. What were you trying to do up there and what was it like? Caitlyn: Yeah. So this week we approached Sperry Glacier to measure the winter mass balance. So we visit Sperry Glacier twice a year: in the fall, and in the spring. And in the fall, we're measuring how much ice the glacier has lost during the mount season. And in the spring, we're measuring how much snow has accumulated on the glacier during the winter season. And so these two measurements give us an understanding of the mass balance, or the mass budget of the glacier. So mass balance is basically the checking account for water mass on the glacier every year. And here in Glacier National Park, we started taking these measurements in 2005 on Sperry Glacier. However, the U.S. Geological Survey has been conducting this mass balance research on glaciers in North America since as early as the 1950s. So the mass balance measurements involve installing stakes on the glacier surface, were measuring snow depth and also snow density. So we're measuring how deep the snow is, and then we're measuring the the mass of the snow. And this year, we've seen a very precipitous decline of the seasonal snowpack. And so we were measuring snow densities that were quite high for this time of year. So usually spring snow densities are maybe 500, 550 grams per cubic centimeter. In the wintertime, lighter, fluffier snow. I mean, at Bridger Bowl, the sort of coldsmoke, as it's referred to, is about 10% water mass. And in a more typical winter snow pack around here, in the sort of wetter climate of Glacier National Park is maybe 30, 40% water mass. And so we were in the springtime, it's maybe 50% water mass. And this week, on Monday, we were measuring 60%. So that's quite dense. And we also were measuring snow depths that were quite shallow relative to what we've measured in the past 18 years. So it was pretty bony. The snow cover is thin,. Daniel: Pretty bony. Caitlyn: Probably about a month ahead in the melt season relative to sort of the typical progression. Daniel: Let me go back to the start of this. So this has been going on since 2005 here on Sperry Glacier, but it's been going on a lot longer around the country and around the world. And when you actually go to do it, it sounds like it gets pretty complicated, but the concepts kind of simple. Basically, you're going up and you're measuring the glacier. How thick is it? How dense is it in the spring and in the fall? And then you can if you do that over time, you can see how the mass of the glacier is changing from winter to summer and over time. Caitlyn: And it's even simpler than that because we're just measuring the surface. So we're just measuring how much mass is added and how much is subtracted. So we don't actually measure how thick and dense the glacier writ large is. We're just sampling how much mass is entering and exiting the system. So we have these little dip sticks, basically point measurements at stakes around the glacier, and that gives us the starting point for understanding that seasonal rhythm. And then we take those measurements back to the office and we then extrapolate from those points to get a glacier-wide balance. We then calibrate those measurements against measurements from space in order to account for the fact that we're not going to install stakes where there are locations that we can't access on foot. So we're not going to install them in crevasse zones, we're not going to install them at the base of avalanche paths. And so knowing that we have this bias, this sort of systematic bias that we need to correct, we calibrate against different representations of the surface mass balance. So these stake measurements, though, that I'm describing that we just collected this week for field measurements are very powerful because they provide direct measurements of the seasonal rhythm of mass accumulation and ablation. Daniel: So some years I suppose you're seeing the glacier grow, right? Caitlyn: So this will be the 18th year of glacial logical measurements on Sperry Glacier. And I think there's only been one year that we've seen a positive balance. And so overall, Sperry has lost more mass than it has gained in the past 18 years. Daniel: Interesting. So you're taking these measurements of Sperry Glacier and you can see, you can graph it then and you can see it like, oh, it held kind of steady this year. Oh, it dipped a little Oh, it maybe went up a little. But overall, you're watching it trend downward. Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: Now, that seems like a great system, but it also seems like a lot of physical work. You have to get up to the glacier. You have to drill these holes. You have to put in all these stakes and everything. So you're this is really only happening at Sperry Glacier. It's happening a lot of places around the world and around the country. But here in the park, you're only doing it at one glacier. And I'm guessing that that's just because because it's a lot of work. Caitlyn: Yes, it is logistically demanding. And for that reason, continuous records like this are very rare on our planet. So of the 200,000 glaciers on Earth, only one in every 10,000 has a continuous decades long mass balance record. So it really requires a commitment to repeat these measurements in a systematic way such that there is a cohesive, uninterrupted record. Which is really powerful scientifically, because then it allows us to understand those that seasonal rhythm. Daniel: Right, because we have repeat photos. The repeat photos can tell us, Oh, look, the glacier got smaller over the past 50 years or 100 years, but it doesn't really tell us what happened in between and these measurements. You're doing the mass balance measurements. They tell you what happened in between. Caitlyn: Exactly. And they help us to understand how the glacier responds to years where there may have been a big melt season. So a very hot, dry summer. But if there was also a big snow season preceding that, then the glacier may actually be in balance for the year or close to balance, whereas there could be years where the summer melts And sort of the lived experience of being in these mountains in the summer isn't that noteworthy. And then when we look at the cumulative record, we can start to really sort of understand the precise connection between the glacier and the ambient climate. Daniel: So this is a fairly simple concept. You're measuring the the snow in the spring and measuring how much it melts in the fall. In my head, one of the big changes, one of the big shifts in glaciology happens with airplanes and aerial photography. Can you explain what changes? What does that allow for? Caitlyn: When you can view the glaciers and the mountains from an aerial perspective, you gain an understanding of how the glaciers are changing across the region. Daniel: It's too much work to go hike up to every glacier and measure how its mass balance is changing. But once you start being able to take pictures from the air, you don't know how how the mass is changing, but you could start measuring how the area of the glaciers are changing. So in my head, tell me if this is right, aerial photography or even from satellites, I guess—that's a big shift in the study of the cryosphere. Caitlyn: Yeah, and I'd say it's true not just for the cryosphere, but for Earth sciences in general. Our ability to view our planet from a distance. We have a time series of glacier area at various snapshots starting in 1966, and that was generated by tracing the area of the glacier from aerial images. So pictures taken from airplanes provide that baseline imagery that we can then use to trace the extent of the glaciers. And then if we have aerial or satellite imagery from the modern era, we can do the same thing and then we can quantify the area change. Daniel: The disadvantage is you don't know how much snow is falling on the glacier in the spring and you don't know how much is melting in the fall. But the advantage is you can look at all of the glaciers in the park at once. You can take pictures of them all. So that that's a huge advantage. So I guess the basis for glacier science in this area, as I understand it, is these aerial images. You have pictures of the glaciers from above. And then that coupled with the mass balance measurements that's just happening at Sperry Glacier, but happening over eighteen years. So those two things together, you start to get a pretty good picture of how things are changing. Caitlyn: Definitely. Daniel: And I guess the change that we're seeing is you have these pictures from 1966, and the area is getting smaller and all the glaciers. So that doesn't tell us if they're getting thinner necessarily or thicker or whatever. But it it does tell us that the area is getting smaller. So that's by area. We're talking about a measurement squared. So like square acres or square kilometers, right? Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: So another thing I want to ask you about then, aerial images, that, that starts to unlock a new way of understanding the cryosphere on earth. But with satellites, it also starts unlocking, studying the cryosphere on other planets. So as a fun piece of trivia, like other planets have glaciers, right? Caitlyn: Yes, Other planets have ice. And it's something that is definitely a point of interest, especially for the search for life on other planets. Daniel: Oh of course Caitlyn: There's sort of this tagline, follow the water. Daniel: Yeah. Which is super interesting and interesting that glaciers on earth are made of rocks and water, but in other places in the solar system, they could be made of, I don't know, nitrogen or carbon dioxide. Caitlyn: Well, and another factor to consider is like a glacier on Mars will have different dimensions than a glacier on earth because the gravitational force on Mars is different. Daniel: I mean, the fundamental principles are still the same. But some of the numbers are going to shift because you have different gravity and. Interesting. Caitlyn: Exactly. Daniel: Okay. So all of that to me reinforces the importance of of approaching the science in a really quantitative way, having like, ways to really measure the glaciers. Caitlyn: Exactly. Daniel: Your research is on the cutting edge of those quantitative methods. Caitlyn: Yes. So as we've described, we have this glacialogical approach. Which is very logistically demanding and time consuming, but it provides us the advantage of having seasonal information0ù so precise, a precise understanding of winter accumulation and summer ablation. But it's for one single glacier within the mountain range. And then we have the advantage of aerial photography and aerial imagery which provides information about the aerial extent of the glacier for the entire mountain range. And so photogrammetry is a technique that sort of marries the advantage of both approaches. And so photogrammetry is basically leveraging the same sort of phenomena that happens with our eyeballs, where there are two images that are offset. And if there are offset and overlapping, we can use that two dimensional information from the aerial image to sort of recreate the third dimension. And then if we repeat that exercise, say, with aerial imagery from the 1960s and satellite imagery from 2023, we have elevation information from both those years and we can difference the elevations to calculate the vertical change. And then we have a measurement of mass change across the landscape using photogrammetry. And we can compare that to our glacialogical measurements that give us the really fine tune seasonal information. Daniel: This is kind of blowing my mind. So so basically, by taking two offset pictures of the glaciers from the air, you can use math, geometry I guess, to make a lot of different calculations about the shape, the three dimensional shape of the glaciers. Caitlyn: Precisely. Daniel: That's incredible. It sounds difficult to calculate. Caitlyn: It involves specialized expertise, and actually the technology that, and the sort of workflows that the USGS Glacier Group leverages were originally developed for NASA's missions, for the Apollo missions. So for surveying the surface of the moon. Daniel: There's all kinds of ways that studying the glaciers is being approached. We've hinted that mostly what you're observing is that glaciers are getting smaller. But let's let's talk about that. So is that true? All the lines of evidence point towards the glaciers are shrinking. Caitlyn: Yes. Daniel: Hmm. Caitlyn: It's important, though, to understand that there can also be situations. Not so much for the glaciers here in Glacier National Park, but glaciers elsewhere where the dynamics aren't necessarily so sort of the flow of the ice isn't always directly coupled to what's happening with weather and snow accumulation and ice melt in any given year. Daniel: The simple equation is like, well, it's hot in the summer so the glacier melts. If it's not super snowy in the winter, then the summer is stronger than the winter and the glacier gets smaller. But what you're saying is, yeah, that's that's generally very true. But there's there's some real nuances happening on specific glaciers that have more to do with water under the glacier, how steep is the glacier? One I've heard about is wind, right, and drifting. That's a big thing here in Glacier National Park, right? Caitlyn: Exactly. And so one of those local processes that you just described is the wind drifting and wind scour of snow. Snow, snow, avalanche accumulation is another example. The shading of the surface from the topographic relief. Daniel: It's not just how much snow falls in the winter. It's also like how much snow falls and then blows onto the glacier. Caitlyn: Exactly. That redistribution of snow is a big important process for controlling the spatial variability of snow accumulation. And and so it becomes a relatively major influence on the mass balance of these small glaciers. Daniel: Do you know off the top of your head, kind of the ballpark numbers that we're talking about, how much snow falls in the mountains of glacier versus how much drifts on top of Sperry Glacier? Caitlyn: That's an open question. We have some ongoing studies that have quantified those different processes, like sort of the direct accumulation versus the relative accumulation, according to, or driven by wind drifts. Daniel: Is it something like, you know, a high elevation forest in Glacier National Park is going to get a a couple of meters of snow over the winter. But the top of Sperry Glacier, where the wind's blowing, it's going to get like dozens of meters of snow, is that? Caitlyn: One way I like to think about this topic is there is a glacier there for a reason. So, yeah, it's been favoring snow accumulation and the persistence of that frozen water mass. And that's how the ice forms to begin with. So generally, the, the location of the glaciers particularly now in a time when I mean, this the mountain range here in Glacier National Park is sparsely glacier ice to begin with. And when I say to begin with, I mean, like since 200 years ago. Daniel: Mm hmm. Caitlyn: And then with climate warming and conditions trending towards a climate that's less and less favorable to maintaining glacier ice on the landscape, those local processes become increasingly influential in terms of the persistence of ice. Daniel: One thing that people think a lot about the park's glaciers is like, Oh, they're getting smaller. So as they get smaller, they're going to melt faster and faster. Like that's intuitive. Like, we think that's common sense. But your research has found that's not really quite true, that as they get smaller, they also become more shaded, they become more sheltered and they become relatively more snowdrift, you know—and wind blown snow lands on more of the glacier. So they're almost becoming more resilient as they get smaller. Caitlyn: Yes. This question of relative vulnerability is really interesting and we're really keen to address that very question of do we see enhanced ice loss through time as the summers get warmer and warmer, or do we see more resilience as the glaciers are relegated to these shady wind-loaded spots? And what we're finding is that that resilience and that sort of niche like refugial setting has a buffering capacity that only can go so far. Daniel: Mmhmm. Caitlyn: So then if we once the glaciers experience sufficient melt, it just can't keep up even with that refugial setting. Daniel: Okay, it helps the glaciers to be shaded and snow drifted and and tucked into their little cirques. But at a certain point, if the climate gets hot enough, it doesn't matter. Caitlyn: Exactly. Daniel: But it does seem like it would make predicting when the glaciers are going to be gone, quote, unquote. You know, that that starts to become pretty tricky when you start realizing that it's not just a uniform rate of retreat. Caitlyn: Exactly. And that I mean, that hits the nail on the head. It's really important to understand how much ice is there to begin with, not just in the footprint, but also in the thickness. Like we do our best to represent these spatially variable processes and models, but having direct measurements of how much where actually—how much snow is actually accumulating at a location really helps us to at least start to constrain that margin of uncertainty. Daniel: Right. Right. So we we know through a lot of lines of evidence that all of the glaciers are generally retreating and getting smaller. But saying or predicting when they'll be gone is pretty hard to calculate precisely at this point. And it also kind of depends on how you define gone and a whole bunch of other things. Caitlyn: That's where some of these details really start to start to matter. But every sort of scientifically sophisticated, well constrained, physically informed model of the progression of glacier ice in Glacier National Park portends the continued demise of this frozen water. Daniel: Well, to wrap up, you were just up at Sperry Glacier. What was it like up there after a winter in the office? Caitlyn: The snowpack at Sperry Glacier this year was lower than it has been in past years, and we were struck by how much bare ice was exposed. There's this scour spot on Sperry Glacier, where we often see bare ice even in and throughout the winter. But certainly in the spring, once the melt season has started. However, the amount of bare ice that was exposed was definitely noticeably larger than it has been in the past. The other thing that was striking is that we could hear meltwater, which isn't common for the spring trip so often the spring trip, it feels more like winter still in the Sperry Glacier Basin and it definitely felt like spring. And obviously those sort of qualitative descriptions and the experience of being a human being on the landscape, that informs our sensibility of what's happening this year on Sperry Glacier with this winter mass balance. But the measurements of snow, depth and density will help us to really quantify how much snow has accumulated on the glacier. But it really seems like this melt season is proceeding a lot faster than a sort of a typical melt season. Daniel: Sperry Glacier's melting out fast. Wow. A lot of your job is very quantitative. A lot of these complex Newtonian physics and first principles that we're talking about, programing out computer models. But it's special. And nice to catch you today right after you're coming out of the field and just having kind of the human experience on Sperry Glacier and on a on a year when it's changing particularly fast. [upbeat background music builds] Caitlyn: Yeah, we'll see. We'll have to compare it to other years where we've seen a relatively stout winter snowpack and mild, cloudy summer. So that's the beauty of having these measurements and this record all the way back to 2005. We can really put what we're seeing this year into into context. But thank you for the opportunity to speak with you. It's really nice to catch up. Daniel: Yeah, this was a good conversation. Thanks for coming, Caitlyn. Caitlyn: Yeah, you're welcome. Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one, the Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi. Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Mar 19, 2024 · 31 min

    Climate and Community with Mike Durglo, Jr.

    A conversation with Mike Durglo, Jr., climate coordinator and head of Historic Preservation for the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes. This episode was recorded in September of 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ CSKT Climate Resiliency: http://csktclimate.org/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: Welcome to Headwaters, a show from Glacier National Park, which is the traditional homelands of many Indigenous groups that still live in this area today. This episode is an interview we did with Mike Durglo Jr, who's a climate leader at the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes. We talked about how Native American tribes can lead the way through the climate crisis. This episode is part of a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. These episodes don't have to be listened to in any order; each one stands on its own. And they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate over one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. [subtle beat begins to play] Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives and our futures. It's critical to remember that Glacier has been a home for people since time immemorial. This has never been an empty landscape. It has been loved and cared for by people for thousands of years. And to find our way through the next century, we'll need to have a lot more conversations like this one. [synth beat contines to play, then resolves] Mike Durglo, Jr: I call myself a seed planter because just giving people hope. Daniel Lombardi: Thanks for joining us, and can you introduce yourself? Mike: Thank you. [Introduces himself in Salish] Good morning, everybody. My name is Standing Grizzly Bear. That's my given name. My English name or my [speaks Salish] name is Mike Durglo. Currently, I'm the department head for the Tribal Historic Preservation Department for the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes. Working for the tribes for, it was 40 years. Daniel: Wow. Yeah. Congrats. That's pretty amazing. And so that's just down west, southwest of the park, so one of the park's neighbors. Yeah, well, yeah. Give. Give me an overview, then, of what are the climate change impacts that you're seeing on the Flathead reservation, what you're seeing in this area. Mike: You know, you think about the air quality and what's what's been happening, and even even this year, earlier smoke. I mean, it was early. A few years ago I was driving to my office to work, and there was so much smoke that I couldn't even see the mountains. I live right there, you know, at the base of of the mountains at McDonald Peak, and my office was only like eight miles from my house. But I'm thinking, my grandson had doubles this morning, football practice, double practices. And I'm thinking, I hope that those kids are not outside playing, you know, practicing for football right now in this. Daniel: Because the air is so toxic. Mike: Right. And, you know, it was not just the kids, but the elders, and the people that are most vulnerable to the all the smoke. And so we had I don't remember if it was the the Earth Day event that you came to, but it was one of our gatherings where Dr. Lori Byron and her husband attended that. Anyway, I talked about that. I told I shared that story and I shared my concern for the people being out in that smoke. And a few months later, Dr. Byron calls me and says, Mike, would you be interested in putting up some Purple Air monitors? I said, Heck yeah. I didn't really, you know, I was like, So what do we do? And I don't know if you're familiar with them, but they're only about this big, they're inexpensive and they measure PM 2.5 air quality, and they give you real time data. So she sent me seven monitors. We're putting them up around the reservation at seven schools. They have a what's called a flag program that you can, the kids can put out a flag. So if it's a bad air day, they can put out a red flag. If it's a good day, it's the green flag. And there's all these different ones in the middle. And just this year we're putting up I don't remember how many, 14 more? We're going to put them in, inside and outside. Daniel: So that's great. Yeah. And so that's a kind of climate adaptation, the dealing with air quality, which can be degraded by just burning fossil fuels and cars and stuff. Around here, it's often caused by wildfire, which itself is exacerbated and expanded by climate change. Mike: Our fire seasons have shifted. So here what we've seen over the last, I don't know, several years is later wildfires burning later in the season. So we're still fighting wildfires in October and November when the fire season used to, you know, go of like from August to September maybe. So climate change isn't the only thing that that messed up there. We we did too, as human beings. I mean, you're all familiar with that one guy, what did he say? [does a silly, deep voice] "Only you can prevent wildfires." Daniel: Smokey the Bear. [both laugh] Mike: Yeah. Smokey the Bear is like... A hundred years of fire suppression has not helped. Mhm. To speak. I was invited to speak about historic use of fire on the land. Mm hmm. As you read in some of Lewis and Clark's journals of, you know, walking through this beautiful plains with grass up to their shoulders and it's like that didn't happen all by itself. Mhm. That happened from the tribes living on the land for those thousands of years and you know, using fire as a tool. We didn't follow the bison around, the bison followed where we burned. Mhm. Daniel: Because the grass would grow back greener. Mike: We burned those areas and then the bison would go back to those areas and feed. So that it made us easier to hunt. So, you know, a thousand years of that understanding how the land works, it's so, you know, you go back to fire suppression and the way it is now. Climate change plus fire suppression equals catastrophic wildfires. [synth beat marks a transition] Mike: We were one of the first tribes, right, in the United States to develop a climate strategy. That was back in 2012. My boss and my boss's boss, you know, they were asked several times about what is the tribe's stance, what is the tribe doing about climate change? What are you guys actually doing? And at the time I was the Environmental Director, and I was also the chairman of the RTOC, the Regional Tribal Operations Committee, that's region eight tribes. There's like 17 tribes in Region Eight: North and South Dakota, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah. Daniel: Why do you think it's important to start with a plan? Like was that always automatic, you knew like, the first step is to create a climate plan? Mike: Whatever agency it is, it don't matter if it's a tribe or the city or the county or federal agency, all of the different programs focus on a certain aspect. There's fisheries, there's wildlife. They're focused on whatever their media is there. So really, I feel like, and this might be hindsight, right? I feel like the whole process ended up bringing all of us in a in a tighter circle. When when I was asked to coordinate that effort, I wanted ours to be more comprehensive. And we had nine sectors. So air, water, fisheries, wildlife, forestry, people. And also I wanted to make sure that we included traditional knowledge. My dad was really a big support. He was actually the department head for Tribal Historic Preservation when I was the Environmental Director. So he he contributed a lot to that plan. And I always say that one of the most awesome parts of that process was interviewing my elders. So I did eight interviews, and my dad being one of those, and those are all available on that website and you can watch those. And I wanted to make sure that we we very much included traditional cultural knowledge within the planning effort. Daniel: One of the reasons I'm super interested to talk to you about this is because Glacier National Park, we're in the process of trying to write a climate action plan. So I think what you said about how the importance of a plan early on, at least looking back, was that it brought everyone together and got everyone to kind of get on the same page. Did you find that like people were ready for that or like, was there anyone resistant to like, "Oh, this is going to add more work to me" or anything like that? Mike: When I started doing climate change work it's like, when people saw Mike Durglo coming down the hall, they would slam their door and lock it and pull their shade because they knew that Mike was going to come and ask them to do more work. I mean, they're already busy. They're already doing their their full time work in their field. And I come along and say, "Hey, I need you to come to our meeting because we're talking about impacts of climate change on fisheries" or whatever. They were already doing climate change work without calling it climate change. Daniel: Yeah, climate change is one of those things that so often it seems like it's adding on to... It's not even always creating new challenges, but it's also often just like a layer on top of a heavy workload that already exists. Mike: It's more work. I've been doing, you know, my job as the Environmental Director at the time plus climate. It's really something that you have to be passionate and compassionate about. So the reason I wanted to rewrite the plan was based on that newer evidence, the projections or the the science that we were looking at in 2012 was conservative. Yeah, you know, we had hope. "Yeah. Everybody's going to understand us. Everybody's going to going to get it. That things are changing, that we're we need to start looking at alternative fuel sources and alternative energy and all that stuff, and everybody's going to jump on board." That hasn't happened. Daniel: So let me recap some of that. It was about ten years ago now, 2012, you all released the your climate plan. And now looking back, it looks a little conservative. It looks a little too optimistic. And we've seen the impacts of climate change, that were predicted back then, we've seen them come to pass much sooner than predicted. And so now you're working on updating, creating a new plan. And it seems clear to me that the CSKT, and you in particular, have been leaders nationally in terms of developing a climate action plan, especially leaders in helping and working with other tribes on their climate plans. Does that feel right? Mike: Oh, absolutely. In fact, back in 2016, I received an award from President Obama. I got to go to the White House. And that award was for leadership in climate change. It's not that I do what I do to get an award or a pat on or anything like that, but it was very honoring. You know, I was honored and humbled to be there. And that was just for the work I've been doing to help other tribes like Blackfeet, Fort Belknap, the Crows. I've helped different tribes and even up into Canada. [synth beat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: Climate change is impacting, you know, every sector of the wheel of life, as you were describing it, including people and cultural resources. So maybe let's get into that. What is a cultural resource? Mike: A resource could be a culturally modified tree or a rock cairn, or a fire pit, historical fire pit. Or, I mean, a lot of those are associated with campsites, right? So those resources, like culturally modified trees, how do you protect that from climate change? Mm hmm. In our database and in Glacier National Park's database, we have identified over 300 cultural sites or resources. Daniel: So to zoom out for a second, you worked on a project where you identified cultural sites and resources, which are basically any evidence or significant item or place that was used by or is used by members of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, either today or Mike: Yeah, sure. Daniel: Thousands of years into the past. And so you're identifying those objects. Sometimes they're trees that were modified or used by people, sometimes they're campsites, sometimes they're actual artifacts, sometimes they're just spots and places. And so then you're looking at, how is climate change potentially going to impact these specific resources? Mike: So I'm going to give you an example of of potential impact to a site that's along a stream, and that is another historic campsite. Well, what's happening at that campsite is the banks of the stream are eroding. Mm hmm. And it's I mean, you know, that's a natural process. But however, what we're seeing is increased runoff in, you know, that -- what we like to see is gradual runoff. Right? Right. In the spring, we want the snow to gradually come out of the mountains, causing minimal damage or minimal erosion. But what's happening is it comes crashing down. Like what we're seeing is that snow melt in an accelerated time period, and all that water comes crashing down the side of the mountain. Well that's causing increased erosion in that certain site, not just that site, but all the different sites along the streams. So we look at what what can we do using Western science to mitigate or to help with the process of slowing that erosion. So we come up with a list of maybe four alternatives: we can put riprap into that site; we can move some of those artifacts that are around the site or in and around the site; one alternative might be do nothing. And that's the things that we present to the elders. And and the elders could say, we don't want you around that site. We want we don't want you doing nothing there. We want you just to leave it and let the natural process take place. So those are the kind of things that we looked at in that project, that pilot project, as far as climate impacts to those cultural sites. Daniel: And you found there's lots of sites, significant sites in the park in Glacier National Park. And would you say that they're fairly secure and safe, or would you say that there's a lot of threats to those cultural sites? Mike: It's not just the Confederate Salish and Kootenai Tribes that utilize Glacier National Park. Mm hmm. It was a common use area for a lot of tribes, as you know. Mm hmm. Blackfeet, the Kootenai Bands from Canada, different Blackfeet, Ktunaxa, Piikani bands from Canada, Blood Tribes, and us, used Glacier National Park for millennia. Daniel: So all these different groups, all these different tribes have connections and cultural sites and cultural artifacts and significant connections to areas in the park. Do you feel like those are fairly safe or is climate change threatening them significantly? Mike: I think that's part of the process that we wanted to look at when we did this pilot project. Daniel: You have to figure it out. Mike: Yeah. In the work that I've done, pretty much all of my career in natural resources, you start out with a base study, right? What do we have, and how how is it potentially impacted? We know that a lot of these sites are pretty safe, but they're all being impacted by climate change and people. Daniel: What I'm hearing you say is that monitoring and studying and paying attention to how these sites are being impacted by climate change, that's sort of where we're at in the process now is being vigilant. [synth beat marks a transition] Daniel: Do you feel like tribes across the country are-- how do you think they're facing climate change as as the impacts are accelerating? Do you think they're kind of poised to be leaders and everyone's got a plan kind of ready, or are the tribes struggling to catch up, or is it some of both? Mike: Yeah, I think it's some of both, really. I think the tribes, the connection that we have with Mother Earth and I'm not saying everybody doesn't have this, but we've lived on the landscape for thousands of years on this landscape, Glacier National Park, the Flathead Valley. And it's all included. You know, we've we've been here for thousands of years. So really, we we understand not so much anymore. I don't think maybe that's one of the things we need to do is reconnect reconnect to the land. Because I, I remember stories from my grandparents and my parents talking about how people really, back then listened to the land, and almost like had a conversation with the land. And it's like they knew by looking at different things on the landscape what kind of winter we're going to have, or what kind of summer or, you know, any the stuff like that. So I feel like we really need to to have that connection and, you know, in order to feel the pain or whatever that we're causing Mother Earth. In order for us to survive, we have to reconnect to that circle. We can't take ourselves out of it. Above it or below it. We are part of it. Mm hmm. So. And I just feel that that's one of the commonalities that tribes have across the whole world is that connectedness. And I know you know, I'm just not saying that, you know, tribal people have that connection. Every nationality -- I don't care if you're French, German, Korean. Everybody has that. My ancestors are buried right here in this ground. That's how you walk every day in your life. And that's like a respect that you realize that these this is where my ancestors are buried. So then you have to walk in beauty to keep those ancestors happy. Mm hmm. And that's right here in Glacier National Park. Daniel: You were describing this important connection to our earth, to the environment around us, and that everyone can have that, it's a matter of sensitivity. And. And, yeah, learning from your elders. And during the climate planning process, you were able to interview your elders. And I'm curious what you learned from them. You know, that was that you were able to really ask them about that connection to the earth and noticing when the wheel is out of balance, notice that our climate is changing. So were there some clear lessons for you after interviewing that your elders? Mike: You know, a lot of the those elders talked about how it used to be. My dad talked about how deep the snow was when we when we drove down to the country roads. And Ig Couture from Elmo talked about how the lake used to freeze over every year, and we used to be able to go ice fishing, and he talks about ice skating too, across across the lake. The differences of my dad, you know, looking at maybe 50 to 75 years and talking to his grandparents, so that's another 50 to 70, so we're talking about like 150 years of knowledge, you know, passed down over over time. The cultural and traditional knowledge that our elders passed down to us is more about living in harmony with the land and having respect for that. Daniel: I like hearing your stories from getting to talk to elders and tribal members from all over the country. It's really interesting. You must have picked up just so many lessons and ideas and experiences along the way. You know, you're not just having conversations locally, but you're having conversations all over. So I'm curious, yeah to just hear any other stories or lessons that you've come across. Mike: I did a workshop, so when I work with ITEP, we bring in probably 30 representatives from the tribes in the area, and there was an elder woman at that workshop. I was doing my presentation and she was like, "Mike, you know, I'm tired of having to adapt." And when we talked about trying to help them develop plans and strategies, it's like, "hell, we don't have time to plan. We have we're in reaction mode. Our village is falling into the river." Or the ocean. And, you know, their cemeteries are being eroded away because of climate change and increased erosion. Mm hmm. So, you know, they're all in, like, reaction mode and trying to help them develop some kind of a plan or strategy, you know, how do they deal with that? [synth beat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: How are you thinking about climate change these days, in terms of like, what kind of an issue is it? Because a lot of people think about it and they think, "oh, that's an environmental issue or that's a wildlife issue." Or sometimes now we're hearing more people talk about it being a health issue and a public health issue. What is it for you, you think? Is it partly a spiritual or economic, or how do you think about climate change? Mike: I feel like it's all of the above and people are really starting to understand that. The impacts are spiritual, they're social, they're physical, they're mental. All of these things that are happening around us affect our whole our whole being. One of the programs that came about because we were working on climate change was the EAGLES program. But EAGLES is Environmental Advocates for Global and Local Ecological Sustainability. Say that three times. [Daniel laughs] That was a result of my brother Jim and I just having a conversation one evening about getting youth more involved in what we were doing, right? And the whole idea around that was to engage the youth in doing activities within the schools and within the communities to help, you know, help with like recycling, with putting in community gardens. Daniel: So the EAGLES program is an effort that you and your brother created to engage the youth on the reservation, to work on sustainability, to work on fighting climate change, to try and be better stewards of the earth. So I think you're saying, you know, that for you, one of the biggest climate solutions that's out there is engaging young people. Mike: As adults, as older people, we have to take responsibility. We can't just leave it all to the younger generations. Daniel: You know, the past ten, fifteen years, you've been working on climate change constantly, doing all kinds of really innovative and important work. But it's interesting to me that you're saying that you hope your legacy is the EAGLES program and is working with young people. I think that's interesting that that is the key for you. Mike: On the reservation and across the whole country on reservations, if you do a good thing or a great thing, they name a conference room after you. Or a road or homesite or whatever. It's like you drive down the road and there's, the road is named after somebody. I said, I don't want a conference room or a road or a homesite named after me. I want people to add that to what I want my legacy to be, that my grandkids will remember me and say, this is something my papa started, and this is why we're here. This is why we're doing what we're doing. That's one of the things that for me anyway, I've always thought of it as, or maybe hoped that this would be my legacy. This is what I want to leave on this Earth when I'm gone. And I was thinking about seven generations from now or, you know, 100, 200 years, and my grandkids, my great grandkids will be here and they'll say, "My papa started this." [synth beat plays to mark a transition] Daniel: I wanted to just ask you about, you did these interviews with elders and you learned a ton of information about the way the climate is changing and how they're seeing it, and the lessons that they've learned. Mike: It's kind of one of those things like after I did the the Elder interviews, Sadie Saloway from Elmo, I seen her like two weeks later at Walmart. Right. And Sadie seen me in Wal-Mart. And she's come, almost come running over to me. "Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike! I want you to come back and visit me!" Because I went to her house, and "I thought about so many things after you left. I want to you know, I want to share that with you." And and oh, my goodness, a couple of weeks later, she passed away. So, you know, those are the things that [get a bit choked up] just you know, you think about the value and the lesson that we can take from those visits. Daniel: And then you didn't get a chance to go interview again. Mike: Right. I didn't get a chance to go back. In all this work, you know, it's like so important, I think, to to get that perspective of the Elders. And there's so much that's like, I seen something that says when you lose an elder, you lose a library of knowledge. And just like with my dad, and I shared with you that my dad was really a support for the work I did. And he had so much knowledge of our culture and our history and Tony Incashola Senior, and all the elders that -- out of the eight I interviewed, Stephen Smallsalmon's the only one left with us today. Daniel: Wow. Mike: So, yeah. Daniel: The two biggest solutions to climate change that I'm hearing from you is like connecting with the youth and also listening to and talking to the Elders as well. Mm hmm. Mike: Yeah. And doing everything we can. Mm hmm. Being responsible to our Mother Earth and to each other, I think, you know. [guitar and drumbeat begins to play] Daniel: Well, thanks so much, Mike. This has been great. Mike: Thank you. [guitar music continues to play through credits] Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park, the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives from solar panels on park buildings to storytelling projects like this one. The Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. This show is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's, natural and cultural resource teams. Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening. [music concludes]

  • Mar 5, 2024 · 52 min

    Climate Interpretation with Diane Sine

    A conversation with longtime interpretive ranger Diane Sine about a lifetime of watching change in Glacier. This episode was recorded in May of 2023. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ Overview of the park’s glaciers: https://www.nps.gov/glac/learn/nature/glaciersoverview.htm --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: You're listening to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. My name is Peri, and this episode is an interview that my co-host Daniel did with longtime park ranger and educator Diane Sine about telling stories about our glaciers to park visitors. Peri: This is one in a series of conversations we've been having with a wide variety of climate change experts. They don't have to be listened to in any order. Each one stands on its own and they all focus on a particular aspect of the way the world is being altered by the burning of fossil fuels. Over the past century and a half, human activity has released enough greenhouse gases to warm the Earth's climate more than one degree Celsius, with only more warming on the way. Throughout 2023, Daniel sat down with experts to talk about how that warming is altering Glacier National Park, our lives, and our futures. [Theme music fades in.] Peri: This is one of my favorite interviews in a long time. Diane is an amazing person, a local legend, really. And I found her stories surprising and resonant. She's been visiting the park's glaciers for decades and has seen so much change firsthand. I think you'll really enjoy this conversation. Daniel Lombardi: So, Diane Sine, welcome to the podcast, welcome back to the podcast. Diane Sine: Thank you, Daniel. Daniel: Will you remind people who you are, where you work, how long you've been doing it? Diane: My name is Diane Signe and I work at Many Glacier. I'm the lead interpreter over there and I have been in the park for quite a while. I've been in interpretation pretty much all my adult life during the summers here and even before that, when I was a college student, I worked at the Many Glacier Hotel. So I've been hanging around Many Glacier since 1980. Daniel: Wow. So maybe let's start with what is many glacier for someone who's, like, never been to Glacier. And then I am curious to hear about your first time visiting many Glacier. Diane: So Many Glacier as a region of the park with a rather confusing name. Yes, we get the fact that it's improper English, "Many" is plural, "Glacier" is singular. So there's one of the first problems right there, but it's simply a region of the park. The Many Glacier Hotel is there. And the name came about in the early years of the park, simply referring to the fact that there were multiple glaciers at the head of the valleys, pretty much a glacier at the head of each one of the valleys. Daniel: Yeah. Which is like four or five glaciers or something. It's not like many, many glaciers, right? A few, right? It's Many Glacier. Diane: And it sort of sounds like "mini" glacier, as in "tiny glacier." So we get confusion about people thinking that it's "mini glacier." Sure. Hey, maybe that's an appropriate name in some ways. [Music fades in and then concludes.] Daniel: What is a glacier? What makes Grinnell Glacier actually a glacier? Diane: Remember, I'm not a geologist. I'm an elementary teacher. So a glacier, whether we're talking about those massive ice age glaciers that were thousands of feet thick, that carved out these valleys in Glacier National Park, or whether we're talking about the comparatively small glaciers that were here. Well, are here today. And we're part of the Little Ice Age. Places such as Grinnell Glacier. Diane: To have a glacier, you simply have to have a place where more snow falls every winter then can completely melt during the summers. So over the years, that snow builds up, it accumulates. It actually recrystallizes fairly quickly and it forms a dense ice. And once you have this thick, dense ice, you eventually get—and there are lots of variables—but say when it gets to 70 to 100 feet thick, there is so much mass or so much weight pressure that it actually starts to flow. And so the bottom of the glacier starts to flow and there's actually movement. So a glacier is a mass of a moving ice. And that confuses people sometimes. Sometimes they think, well, is it rolling down the valley? And in the case of all these glaciers in Glacier National Park, they're actually becoming smaller all the time. But there's movement within the mass of ice. There's more accumulation of ice at the upper elevation of the glacier, and then the ice flows through. So whether a glacier is growing or receding is simply a matter of economics. Is there is there more snow and ice being added to that mass every year or is there more melting happening? And the reality here is there's more melting happening. Daniel: Right. Is there is your summer more intense? Or your winter more intense? And that that balance has shifted. Diane: So one of the fascinating things you mentioned, the moraine, and of course, that's the end of the maintain trail today. And it's a very impressive mass of accumulation of unsorted material. We call it glacial, glacial till. So there are large rocks and boulders in there. And there also is a lot of just very small, almost sand and gravel. But it's it's fascinating to my brain to try to imagine how long the edge of Grinnell Glacier sat at one place for that amount of moraine material to pile up on top of itself in that one location. And the glacier still moves that moraine material. There's still there's still rocks and boulders and gravel and sand within the layers of the ice and being scraped from beneath and become part of the mass of moving ice. But throughout my lifetime, the glacier has been receding so quickly that the modern, quote, marine material is just sort of smeared across the limestone ledges up there. There's no accumulation compared to what created that moraine. That was the edge of the ice when George Bird Grinnell was up there. Daniel: So it's a mass of ice that moves. Diane: That's right. The ice within the glacier moves. Daniel: How did Grinnell Glacier get its name? Diane: Grinnell Glacier is named for a guy named George Bird Grinnell and George Bird Grinnell was a well-to-do Easterner. He was very interested in the West. He was interested in conservation issues, really. He came from the background of sort of a gentleman hunter. So at that point, George Bird Grinnell was editor of Forest and Stream Magazine, which was kind of the the big outdoorsman journal of that time. And so in that role, he got to know James Willard Schultz. He read Schultz's writings about this area and became interested in exploring it. So Grinnell first came into this area in 1885, and on that trip he got up up into the Swift Current Valley and could could see Grinnell Glacier from a distance and was interested in it. But then he came back in 1887 with a group of other guys, and they actually hiked up to Grinnell Glacier. And it was on that trip that the friends that he was with basically named the big old chunk of ice that they got to for him for Grinnell. Daniel: So Grinnell didn't name the glacier after himself. His buddies named it for him. Diane: Right. It appears that his his buddies named it for him, although it also appears from his writings that he probably was very agreeable to having something named after him, would be my guess. Daniel: And he did then name a ton of mountains and lakes and everything all around the park. He he was throwing out names pretty easily. Diane: George Bird Grinnell did name all sorts of features in the park. I think it's it's, it's interesting because if you think about it, any noticeable feature, any real obvious kind of feature would have had multiple names already. It's not like there hadn't been people on this landscape for as long as time goes back. So, you know, the Blackfeet, the Kootenai, everybody would have had names for all of these obvious features, but those names hadn't been written down. Some of the names that George Bird Grinnell applied to features in what is today Glacier National Park, very much reflect the kind of trip that he was on in the 1880s. If you go into the Saint Mary Valley, we have names that he gave such as Gunsight Pass, Fusillade Mountain, Single Shot Mountain. And all of those names came from the fact that George Bird Grinnell was on a hunting trip and was thinking a lot about hunting. Daniel: Yeah. Diane: So Single Shot Mountain is actually where he did it. In fact, shoot a bighorn sheep with a single shot. Daniel: Okay. All right, George. So his friends name this glacier for him. He went back many, many times, from my understanding, to Grinnell Glacier and and saw it over the course of his whole adult life, was making trips up to the ice. And I'm curious if you know anything about kind of his how he saw the glacier and how that might have changed over time, because I think early on he made predictions that, you know, this glacier is going to disappear soon. Diane: Right. In a way, we're really fortunate that George Bird Grinnell, was a writer, and so he very much left evidence of how he thought and his impressions. And even that very first trip up to Grinnell Glacier is well documented because he wrote the whole story in various installments so that he could publish them in Forest and Stream Magazine. So we know that after those first trips where where this area really inspired him, as it does so many of us. And he he first suggested in an article that he published that perhaps this was an area that should be protected with national park status. And that didn't happen right away. There were a lot of people who weren't excited about that idea. But finally the park was established in 1910 and he continued to come back periodically and visit it. So he went from coming into the Swift Current Valley, hiking up to Grinnell Glacier, where there was no trail. They were just finding their own route. Certainly people had been there before, but there wasn't a record of people having been there before. And then he came back in later years after the Many Glacier Hotel was built, a road all the way into the valley, and then a developed park service trail from the hotel up to Grinnell Glacier. And he saw those changes both in visitation and the changes in the glacier, the ice itself. Daniel: Yeah, we think about like today, we think about living in a an era of such fast and profound change. You know, now. But from his perspective, he was in an era of profound change, too. He went from really an undeveloped wild area to some extent, and then saw that become a tourist hub and a national park and also saw the climate and the environment really changed the glaciers throughout that time, too. And that would have been, what, from the 1880s to the 1930s. Right. Diane: He very much wrote about the changes in the area due to the, quote, development and visitation. And of course, that was actually something that was partly due to his efforts. It was significantly influenced by his efforts. But basically, he he felt like he had promoted the idea of establishment of a national park for for a greater good. And yet he felt like what had happened as a result of that had basically ruined or certainly compromised the experience that he had personally first had when he had come into this remote wilderness area. Daniel: Yeah. Diane: So it's also interesting because he also wrote about the changes in the ice itself. So glaciers such as the Grinnell Glacier were probably at their largest size in the mid 1800s. So when George Grinnell was up there in the 1880s, you know, that wasn't that long after the maximum size of, quote, modern Grinnell Glacier. And already by his later trips up into the into the valley, I know in the twenties he was documenting that it had changed dramatically and it was a much smaller glacier than he had originally seen. And of course, that was long before any of us were talking about climate change or really understanding what was going on. But he certainly knew what he was observing and understood that there were changes. Daniel: He saw those changes happening. Yeah. Hmm. Yeah. So we here in the park, we have a chance to see, you know, in recent decades, climate change and glacier melt that is really almost entirely caused by human climate change. But in George Bird Grinnell's era, that was climate change that was mostly naturally the ending of the Little Ice Age. Diane: And then we have a lot of records from the park naturalists that were were going up there in the 1920s and 1930s. Morton J. Elrod was the first person employed as a Ranger naturalist, leading hikes up to Grinnell Glacier. And he he was a biology professor from the University of Montana. And so in the mid 1920s, he started to document he had noticed that, you know, every year he was having to actually walk farther to get to the edge of the ice when he went to Grinnell Glacier. So Morton J. Elrod started to document, you know, how many steps it was, how many paces, to get from a certain big rock on the moraine that we now refer to as "Elrod's Rock." And so he set the stage for actual scientific research documenting the changes up there. And so we know that there were pretty dramatic changes, quite dramatic changes in the twenties and thirties. And then it appears that that recession of the glaciers slowed down significantly and then took off again actually after I started working here in the in the 1980s. Daniel: So one of the things that Grinnell was big on was creating a national park here. He was involved in this area for decades before it was a national park. Then in 1910, Congress makes Glacier National Park a reality. One of the things I know you are particularly fascinated in is how does that name get picked? Glacier National Park. Why is it called that? Diane: Yeah, I am fascinated by by the whole issue of the name of the park. Because while we have really good documentation for a lot of things, we do not have a document that said, "We are going to establish Glacier National Park and give it that name because," fill in the blank. Diane: So you come to a place called Glacier National Park, and one of the first questions at a visitor center is, you know, "Where is the glacier?" "Where can I drive to a glacier?" "Where can I touch a glacier?" Diane: And often people are expecting massive ice fields like you have in Patagonia or up in Alaska. They're they're visualizing something different from what we have today. And so I noticed that in my earlier years as a ranger, I would overhear a lot of other people sort of trying to make it okay with visitors saying, "Oh, well, you know, you're not going to be able to drive to a glacier. But really, the park was named for this glaciated landscape from the Ice Age glaciers. So you're experiencing everything Glacier has by, you know, driving up the St. Mary Valley or the Lake McDonald Valley." Daniel: So it's kind of confusing because the park does have active existing small mountain glaciers. And 10,000 years and more ago, the park was carved by massive Pleistocene Ice Age glaciers. So both are true. But which one was the park actually named for? That's a little bit murky. Diane: That that's the question. And that's the question I tried to answer in looking back through the historical documents, it's very evident that before the park was established, before they came up with the name, one of the things that people were really excited about was that this was a place south of Alaska in the United States where you could take the railroad up to the mountains and then you could actually get to glaciers. You know, folks, folks were working really hard to hike up to places like Grinnell Glacier or Sperry Glacier. It was really the West Side glaciers like Sperry Glacier that I think led to that name, because in those early years people would come on the Great Northern Railway and they would make their way up to Lake McDonald, take a boat up the lake. There was no no road at that point. And then they would hike up to Sperry Glacier, and this was a place you could actually hike to a glacier. We have plenty of original documents that make it clear that people were really excited about the fact that there were honest to goodness glaciers here. And we have every reason to believe that. That's why they named it Glacier National Park. Daniel: It was kind of a or it was actually a a tourist package, basically come stay in our hotel and we will take you to a glacier in Glacier National Park. So you look through early park documents, you look through advertisements that the Great Northern Railway had to try and get people to come visit this place. We look at newspaper articles from when the park was established in 1910, and for the most part everyone's talking about the active, small, glaciers in the mountains here. So it seems that that's probably what they named it for. Diane: Even even the very first superintendents annual reports that we have in the archives, when they just give an overview of this new national park and what it has to offer to the American people. They emphasize that it has glaciers. And none of those writings ever say. They talk about it being a beautiful place with nice scenery. But they never say, "and it has a glaciated landscape, so it should be called Glacier National Park.". [Music fades in and then concludes.] Daniel: How what was your first visit? How did you first come to many Glacier? Diane: I grew up in Seattle and I grew up in a family that did a lot of camping and hiking and visited national parks with our tent. And so I had come to Glacier on family camping trips a couple of times in my childhood, and I actually distinctly remember the first time I was in the Many Glacier area. We spent a night at Granite Park Chalet. We hiked the Highline in from Logan Pass, and then the next day we hiked over Swiftcurrent Pass and actually hiked into the Many Glacier area coming down from the Continental Divide. Daniel: Wow. Today, most people take the long, bumpy road in from Babb, but you came in on foot, which is seems really special. Diane: Yeah. We can almost pretend like I'm an old pioneer or something, but it wasn't quite like that. Daniel: Tell me how that that led into a career in Many Glacier. Diane: Yeah, I was one of those nerdy national park fans as, as a child, I loved it when our family camping in national parks. I always was excited to go to the ranger talks in the evenings. So I also remember on on that same trip we came back into Many Glacier another day and we went on the Ranger-Guided boat trip and hiked to Grinnell Lake. And I distinctly remember that that hike was being led by a female ranger, and I believe that was the first time I had ever seen a female ranger, because they weren't that common at that point. And I don't know that it was it was an "aha moment" that set the track, but it was certainly an awareness that, oh, that would be a really cool job. Daniel: You're in an inspiring place, having a good time and you see someone leading a path that maybe you could follow. Diane: Absolutely. It looked like it looked like a good life and turns out it is a good life. You know, I want to clarify. I really don't feel like I've had a career in Glacier National Park or career as a ranger, because for me, Glacier has always been a passion more than a career. I had a career as an elementary teacher, and then I would spend my summers working as a ranger in Glacier because I was passionate about it. And even though I do it for a little bit longer and I no longer teach, I'm retired from teaching. For me, the park has always been a passion and a choice rather than something that I felt I was stuck in. I guess career doesn't have to be a negative word, but for me I think of it differently. Daniel: Oh, I like that. Yeah. That the word "career" implies... Uh, it implies an amount of work that you don't necessarily feel. This is just a good way to spend the summer. Diane: Exactly. And not to gloss over it. There's plenty of work involved. But but I've I've chosen to have Glacier be a positive in my life, more than a negative at any time. Daniel: But for that, though, you were working for the hotel and you went on a hike up to Grinnell Glacier. I don't know. What do you remember about about seeing the glacier for the first time? Diane: I very much remember that that first time I hiked up to Grinnell Glacier, I got to the end of the trail at the top of the moraine where where you look, you know, down at Upper Grinnell Lake and across at the glacier itself. And my impression and actually I have photographs of it to back it up was the glacier itself wasn't very far away. Diane: From from the moraine the glacier was right there, in your face. As opposed to now where it's quite a distance across that basin to get to the ice itself. And now when people hike up there, people get to the moraine and they they look and they take it all in and then they always seem to be enticed to... They want to get closer to the glacier itself. Daniel: The glacier was big enough. You didn't have to hike further once you got to the edge, that was good enough. Diane: Exactly. And in those first years when I visited, I never did actually go out on to the glacier itself. For many years then after I started working as a ranger here and leading interpretive hikes up there, we would actually walk on the ice and go out onto the ice itself. But it seems like in those those early years when I was hiking up there as a college student in the summers, it was a more intimate experience just being able to see it from the moraine. Daniel: You know, On that first trip you took to the glacier in '81, did you think, Oh, this is all going to be gone someday? Or did you see that change coming? Diane: My memory of when I started working as a ranger and really paying attention to bigger ideas having to do with the Grinnell Glacier. We were fascinated by the stories from the twenties in the thirties when when Upper Grinnell Lake first appeared as the meltwater lake, as the glacier receded and pulled away from the moraine. Diane: You know, it was fascinating to think that that lake hadn't been there in the George Bird Grinnell times. And of course, we have wonderful repeat photography showing the thickness of Grinnell Glacier and that Salamander (what we call Salamander Glacier today) up above, was simply the upper lobe of a Grinnell Glacier connected by by an icefall there. Daniel: When George Bird Grinnell first visited it was just kind of the whole back of the valley is just one big mass of ice. And now we have names for the different pieces because they've separated and a lake has formed at the edge of the glacier. So it's really changed a lot. Diane: I mean, we spend so much time in the park talking about geology in terms of things being millions and a billion years old, and then to to see these changes happening just, just in the short history of the park actually existing, is kind of mind blowing. Daniel: Yeah. In your first years hiking up to Grinnell, I'm guessing that not a lot of people were talking about modern human-caused climate change. Diane: I don't remember people really talking about climate change at all in those early years. I was very fortunate to be mentored by rangers like Bob Schuster, who had been around since the mid-sixties. And, you know, he was documenting that since he had started in 1967, he really hadn't noticed changes in Grinnell Glacier. And then suddenly in those later eighties, everything just seemed to take off with rocket speed. And it's it's been changing, it feels like hourly, ever since. Daniel: Yeah. So in the at least anecdotally, in the sixties and seventies, it seemed like Grinnell was holding fairly steady. But then that really changed kind of at the start of your time going up there. Diane: I clearly remember that in my early years, leading the hikes up to Grinnell Glacier, what the very special thing was that we would actually lead our visitor groups out onto the ice. We had an ice ax and we had been trained to to be safe and know what we were doing because glacier travel is not something to to take lightly. There are a lot of potential hazards, and we certainly do not encourage people to go out onto the ice today because not only do they probably not have the background to recognize the risks with the crevasses and hidden dangers, but it has also changed so much since we did lead that hike because the edge of the ice has become much more rotten and undercut. Diane: But my memory is that a couple times during the summer a friend and I, after we had concluded our organized hikes, we'd we'd take a little excursion on our own down to the outlet of Grinnell Glacier. And this is where the water actually came rushing from underneath the ice. And it led down to into the stream that that went over the waterfall and drains that entire valley. And so when we would walk down there, we would be walking across the basin with this massive wall of ice on our right, and then we would get down to where the water came gushing out from underneath the wall of the edge of Grinnell Glacier. And my memory is that at that point where the outlet was, the ice was rising, at least at least 30 feet above me, if not more. I actually I have photographs of that. I'll have to show you. Daniel: Okay. Where as now, you'd be... It'd be kind of tricky to find a spot where the ice is, what, ten feet high? Diane: Yeah, today when you get... So today, to take that walk that I would take. In the late 1980s down to the outlet. You're simply walking across this open limestone wide valley in a way it's it's a hanging valley where where I had ice on my right. Today, there are all sorts of plants and wildflowers growing up. We actually have small trees that are growing up. It's it's like that very first step in plant succession. After that, those soils have first been exposed after they were covered by ice for for thousands of years. And it looks much more raw and rocky. I've heard people describe it as almost a moonscape, as if we had any experience on the moon. But with that raw, open, rocky-ness, I, I see people just wandering all over the place and yet they're not thinking about the fact that they're compact in that soil. They're actually stepping on and tiny plants and and we're really threatening that that future glorious subalpine meadow. Daniel: Yeah. Do you remember when you first heard about climate change as a concept? Like, modern-day human-caused climate change? Diane: The first thing I remember is when I was an SCA, Student Conservation Association, intern for the Park Service, working at the St Mary Visitor Center. And I remember that one of the books that was for sale there at St. Mary was what I remember as a as a children's book. It was not a scholarly tome by any means, but basically a children's book about climate change. And I can remember picking that up off the shelf and reading it during my spare time, which even there is a rather amazing change because there's never a spare moment in any of the visitor centers in Glacier today. But there were moments I could read a book and learn at the desk. Daniel: Wow. Yeah. So you are you find this kid's book in the visitor center and it kind of explains the basics that, humans are changing the climate, and causing the glaciers to retreat. And that's one of your first at least one of the first times you can remember really seeing that put together. Diane: I feel like that that was the beginning of providing me with a framework to then take in other information, be interested in learning more. Daniel: All right, then let's talk about a pivotal moment in Grinnell Glacier history, and in maybe the history of climate change, happens when Vice President Al Gore visits the glacier. Diane: That was a pretty big deal to have the vice president to have the vice president come to Grinnell Glacier on a day trip from Washington, D.C. was not your typical day in Glacier National Park. Daniel: Okay. Diane: And I first became aware of it because suddenly we had all of these men in khaki fishing vests and earpieces wandering around the Many Glacier Valley. And it it turned out they were the advance-team for the Secret Service. Daniel: And they're trying to blend in. Diane: They so did not blend in. [Laughing] Daniel: Okay. So then what ended up being your job, your role, for the Vice President's visit? Diane: Yeah. So in 1997, I was in the middle of my teaching career in in Kalispell. And then it turned out the Vice President was coming and we needed to have all sorts of extra personnel. And so I was asked if I if I was available to help that day. And I wasn't available because I was a teacher. And that was the day I was supposed to be in the classroom. But I called my principal and I pleaded, I have this chance to be involved in this event with the Vice President. "Could I please use one of my personal days for the school year?" Diane: So that's what I did. And it turned out that my job was to deal with the media that was going to go up the trail ahead of the vice president. Daniel: Okay. Diane: So the Secret Service had been telling us that Al Gore was in very good shape and he was a good hiker and that he was going to have no problem hiking up that trail. And the people who were handling all the logistics understood that the media wouldn't necessarily be in as good shape as the Vice President. Diane: So the media pool was a combination of local Montana media and then all sorts of national folks. And I remember them telling me that they'd they'd boarded a plane in Washington, D.C. (They had boarded Air Force Two in Washington, D.C.) at something like 3:00 in the morning Eastern Time. And they they flew out to Malmstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls. And then at that point, they got on three Chinook helicopters— Daniel: Wow! Diane: —that flew them to what we used to endearingly call "Babb International Airport," which is a pasture in Babb that used to have an air sock on it. And I remember that they had to go down and get the cows out of it. Daniel: Shoot them out of the way. Diane: So they'd brought in the special armored vehicles from from elsewhere and a motorcade that picked them up and drove the entourage up to Many Glacier Hotel. And at that point, the Park Service had built a big stage at the end of the hotel where there was a view of Salamander Glacier and the Grinnell Basin behind. Diane: And he gave a speech about climate change. The whole purpose of this trip, as he was Vice President, he had a passion for trying to raise public awareness to the issues of climate change. Diane: And so he gave his speech there—I missed the speech because as soon as the the the entourage arrived at the Glacier Hotel, the, quote pre-positioned press and I jumped on a boat and then eventually got up to the head of the valley. And we started hiking at their pace so that we could get up there ahead of the vice president. Daniel: Okay. So Al Gore is giving his speech about global warming. And you didn't get to see that part because you were taking the reporters and the press up, up the trail to meet everyone else at the glacier. Diane: Right. One one of the humorous things about that day was when we had had the Secret Service running around the entire week before. The Secret Service knows bad guys. They know security, but they were in a panic about bears. Daniel: Oh, of course. Diane: Just like many visitors to Glacier National Park that have no idea about bears. They were under the impression that there was a bear lurking behind every corner that was going to be an incredible threat to to the Vice President. And, of course, the the risk of anything happening in Bear country is incredibly low. Daniel: Of course. Diane: And but but it's understandable. So I can remember as we were hiking up the trail, I look up the hillside and periodically stationed up above the trail throughout the hike, I could look up and I would see a secret serviceman accompanied by a glacier National Park ranger to protect the Secret serviceman from bears. Daniel: Of course. Diane: The trail was completely open for hikers that day. There were there were regular hikers just hiking on the trail and running into the Vice President. Daniel: So there was like—what was the the mood? Do you remember? And what did Al Gore think of it? Diane: He actually hiked with Dan Fagre, who was our our local expert on what was happening with climate change and with the with Grinnell Glacier. And so he hiked with Dan Fagre and with Dave Castiel, who was our our senior ranger interpreter in the valley at that time. Diane: So as part of that effort that Al Gore had as vice president tied in with that, you may remember he came up with a national speaking tour is the way I remember it, that that then turned into a book called, "An Inconvenient Truth." And from my perspective, it was really that era of him coming out with "An Inconvenient Truth" that really got the general public talking about climate change. And and certainly having the same kinds of varied viewpoints and opinions. Diane: And it's unfortunate, in my opinion. Well, here I go with opinions, but it's it's unfortunate that that something that really is scientific has has become so polarizing. But I feel like that was the first that I became aware of that polarizing aspect of it as well. Daniel: His visit really brings a lot of attention to the concepts of global warming and climate change. So that just starts to become a more talked about subject in America. But it also makes that connection between global warming and Glacier National Park, like, forever cemented together. Diane: So it's no surprise that when we're in a place called Glacier National Park, it's an easy concept, rather iconic for national and even international media to pick up on Glacier National Park and its disappearing glaciers. And so that is something that from that Al Gore time on, it seems like the public is very aware of that, no matter where they're from. Daniel: Yeah. Did you note did you see that play out in front of your eyes then? You know, in the summers after the vice president's visit, you're leading people on hikes up to Grinnell Glacier. And I'm guessing that people's questions and how people felt about seeing the glacier started to shift around then. Diane: Yes. In my first year leading hikes to Grinnell Glacier, we weren't talking about and people weren't asking about current changes up there because there wasn't anything that noticeable in front of our eyes right then. But certainly since then, it's something that people are very aware of and their frequent frequently asking about. Diane: And I've always felt like my goal as an interpreter in Glacier National Park isn't so much to educate them as to the minutia of the science, but simply to to show them what we're seeing on the landscape. Diane: One of the incredible tools we have are those repeat photography examples that were there—there was actually a guy with a big old camera on that George Bird Grinnell trip to Grinnell Glacier in 1887. So we have a photographic record of what has been going on in that valley since 1887. Daniel: Wow. And so that really helps you show and illustrate that change to people who are hiking up to Grinnell for the first time ever. You just show them a picture what it used to look like. Daniel: Grinnell Glacier has gone through periods of very, you know, somewhat stable periods. It's gone through periods of rapid retreat, which we're seeing more and more of in recent years. And there's been kind of a, as that glacier retreats, a changing in how much water it's impounding and the we call the lake, "Upper Grinnell Lake." And that's changed size over time because of the way the ice is or isn't blocking that water from draining down the valley. Diane: Right. And in my early years leading the hike up to Grinnell Glacier, the glacier itself impounded Upper Grinnell Lake. And then we knew that there was a channel that the water from Upper Grinnell Lake was following underneath the ice and then popping out in that dramatic rush and the outlet where where I'd walk along the the steep wall of ice and see the water coming out. Today, the glacier is not impounding the lake at all. There's there's still a significant meltwater lake up there, but it is flowing, flowing freely past the glacier, to the outlet. Daniel: Right. [Music fades in and then concludes.] Daniel: One of the cool things about the National Park Service is—and about this park—is that we are getting to see this what is usually a very long geologic process. We are seeing it play out in on a human timescale, a human lifetime. We're seeing ice retreat and then plants and trees and things grow back into place. Like that's pretty wild. Diane: And I feel like that's one of the things that makes the hike to Grinnell Glacier such an incredible opportunity for people today. I see people have all sorts of emotional responses to that area. It's beautiful. It's it's gorgeous. It's it's stark. And to be up in the Grinnell base and close to the lake, to the upper lake and close to the ice itself is really unlike any place else people experience in Glacier National Park. And today, people understand that that ice is disappearing and it's not going to be with us forever. And people express a lot of sadness about that. And I certainly feel that that sadness, that sense of loss as well. But at the same time, I try to focus on the incredible opportunity we have that, this is in a national park. It's a place that we do have the opportunity to actually be connected to what's happening. It's not just something that we're reading about in the news. It's not just some lingo about climate change, but because of these resources protected by the National Park Service, people are able to experience that up close and see it for themselves and and have that much emotional response, which perhaps is what people need to have in order to take climate change seriously. Daniel: To understand it. So do you encounter a lot of people feeling sad or grieving or saying goodbye to the glaciers when they come on your hikes? Diane: I do find a lot of people who are who are sad and almost distraught in some cases, and I've been amazed in recent years how many visitors I have met throughout the park who verbalized that they came to Glacier National Park because they want to see this place before the glaciers are gone. Daniel: Wow. So when when you encounter those visitors that are distraught, what's what's your approach? What do you try and tell them? Diane: Well, I certainly don't tell them how to feel. I give them the information that that I can share about what has happened at Grinnell Glacier in the past, what seems to be happening. Right now. We it's it's very unlikely that anything could change that eventuality right now. Daniel: Hmm. Diane: But I try to focus on the fact that there are things that humans do still have control over with climate change. Certainly the rate of change, you know, how extreme it's going to become or are things that are still within our control and the human species is pretty incredible. Daniel: Right. Diane: We we have incredible abilities with technology and problem solving. None of it's going to be easy. And I think that's in my opinion, that's where we are right now, is that as a society, perhaps we're wrestling with how much we're willing to commit to to solve a problem that is not simple. Daniel: It makes me think of how special of a place this park is in Grinnell Glacier especially. And the you know, as a ranger, you going up there and using the place to help people figure out how they can be a part of that change, how they can, what they can do. Diane: And that's one of the amazing gifts of a national park, is that it's a place that each person can experience individually. And and if they have some of those sad feelings up there. Perhaps that's okay. Perhaps. Perhaps that's a good thing. I try to not leave people in despair. I try to to point out some of the positives that can come about simply because of that awareness and and some of the positives. You know that there are endless possibilities. But at the same time, I'm not the one to tell every body that things are going to be okay. Daniel: Yeah. So, Diane, when you hike up to Grinnell Glacier these days, how does it feel for you? Diane: In a way, I guess it feels profound. It feels... It feels like a gift for me personally that I have been able to experience this valley over enough years to actually see the changes myself. It's it's not something that I have to read about and and wonder, you know, "What is this climate change thing? What's really happening?" Diane: Whether we had words for it or not. I have experienced and seen incredible changes up there. And I think it's natural that with changes, I think for many of us, there's a sadness. There's there's a longing for the way things used to be. Diane: It's not just the glacier. This park has a visitation today that's double what it was when I started working here. And so there there are changes in the glacier. There are changes in the visitor experience. And of course, there is a sadness. And yet I do I do feel excitement that at least we have places like Glacier National Park where I'm able to to see and experience these raw, real realities. Daniel: Yeah... When you think about all the people, you know, driving and flying out for vacation at Glacier and or when you think about the Vice President flying and all these helicopters and airplanes to get there, there is a kind of contradiction, you know, in the amount of fossil fuels being burned for us to go see and say goodbye to this glacier that's melting because of the burning of fossil fuels. Diane: Life is not simple. The world is not simple, and the world is not black and white. I lead a life that's dependent on on a lot of fossil fuels. And here in Glacier National Park, as the Park Service, we really do care about these issues. And yet one of the most iconic experiences in Glacier National Park is driving going to the Sun Road. Our park is known worldwide as being the park with the iconic road, the first National Park Service road, where actually driving the road was the experience as opposed to simply getting from one point to another. So it's all wrapped up and it's all complicated. And I think I think it's a slippery slope when people expect there to be easy black and white answers. Diane: To a certain extent, I feel like we look at the Grinnell Glacier base and we understand Grinnell Glacier is receding and for a moment we just need to be with that reality. And then the next step is that maybe we'll be able to start doing something about it. Daniel: Hmm. That's really well-put. How have you changed since your first visit to Grinnell? Diane: My hair got gray. That happened ridiculously early, though. I think one way I have changed is that I have accepted that reality. That things aren't simple and they're not black and white. I think when I was younger, I wanted to jump to answers and I wanted to know it all. And I wanted to think that I had all the answers. And now I'm not so sure that there are easy answers for most of the things that I wrestle with. But I believe we need to keep wrestling and and we'll find our way to an answer at some point. Daniel: And being okay with living in that complicated, contradictory gray area. Diane: And accepting the fact that a place like Glacier gives us that opportunity to feel more connected to the world, at least at least for me, I can't I can't speak for other people. But protected places such as Glacier allow me the time and the space to ponder and problem solve and process some of those issues. Daniel: I think you're, of course, connected to the Many Glacier area, to Grinnell Glacier. But do you feel like you're kind of part of it? Diane: I think it would be presumptive of me to to be part of it, but it's part of me. Many Glacier is a huge part of me, and for that I am very thankful. Daniel: Well, thanks for coming and talking to us, Diane. Diane: Thank you, Daniel. [Ending music fades in and plays under credits.] Peri: Headwaters is funded by donations to the Glacier National Park Conservancy. As an organization dedicated to supporting the park the Conservancy funds a lot of sustainability initiatives, from solar panels on park buildings, to storytelling projects like this one, the Conservancy is doing critical work to prevent the worst impacts of climate change. You can learn more about what they do and about how to get involved at Glacier.org. Peri: This show is created by Daniel Lombardi. Michael Faist. Gaby Eseverri, and me, Peri Sasnett. We get critical support from Lacie Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, Kristen Friesen, and so many good people with Glacier's natural and cultural resource teams. Peri: Our music was made by the brilliant Frank Waln, and the show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in the show notes. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Feb 20, 2024 · 28 min

    Glacier’s Bats: A Story of Grief and Hope

    The twin stories of bats facing white-nose syndrome in Glacier, and a volunteer who dedicated so much of his life to studying them. With disease and decline on the horizon for bats, what does the future look like? This episode is in memory of Lewis Young. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Gaby Eseverri: This spring and summer, park biologists were out all night trying to catch bats. Lisa Bate: Tonight, we're trapping at roost. Our goal is 25. Yes. So what we're going to do is really we're going to catch 30 and then we're just anything after that, we're just going to we can look real quick and see if you see anything odd, if you do we'll collect it. Lisa: We don't have Lewis with us. You guys are filling the shoes of Lewis. Kaile Kimball: Nearly impossible shoes to fill. Lisa: Big shoes to fill. Gaby: They're catching these bats to do a swab test for white nose syndrome. A deadly disease that thus far hasn't been found in Glacier. But it's not too far away. Gabby Eaton: Trapping went so well, I think that everyone worked together really hard and we had a good time. Megan Potter: We're unbelievably efficient. We process a lot of bats. We saw no signs of white. We kept our bats very warm and very happy, very cozy. Kaile: And how how were the bats? What you think? Megan: Oh, they were amazing. Yeah, they were just the sweetest little things ever. Gaby: And while I couldn't join them for the survey, I did catch up with them a few weeks later, when they texted me to run over to their office because the results of the tests were in. Gaby [field]: I'm feeling nervous. I can't imagine how they're feeling. Gaby: Lisa just texted us today that she just got the email, the email telling us if the bats here in Glacier National Park, if they have white nose or not. [Footsteps and door creaking open.] Mixed Voices: Okay. Hi. You actually been waiting? We haven't opened email yet. I want to be here for this. Please. Do you think he is? Really? Gaby: Hey, Lisa. Lisa: Hi. Did you guys hear? I got the results for white nose swabbing? Bat swabbing? Oh okay. Gaby: When did you get the email? Lisa: I've been in the field all week. And yesterday, when I got back, I noticed that it was in my inbox. Lisa: Oh, I guess I'd better find it. I don't know... You can see how my emails reproduce in the inbox. Oh, it's from Emily. Maybe Emily. Yeah. Let's try this. There it is. It's from Emily. Oh, good. So I also took over Lewis Young, who passed away this year, and their house. They came back negative for PD. Hmm. Would you? They asked me to convey this information to Linda. And so I'll do that. Oh, maybe it's just that one, you guys. This is just at his house. Oh, sorry. False alarm guys. Mixed Voices: Oh, okay. That's really good. Okay. So, yeah. Gaby: False alarm. The results for the bats tested in Glacier aren't back yet. But it's still great news from another site in northwest Montana, the home of Lewis Young. Gaby: Welcome to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. I'm Gaby. [Theme music fades in.] Gaby: This episode is about bats. Disease and decline are on the horizon for Glacier's bats and their future seems uncertain. Lisa says it's not a matter of if, but when. This story is also about one man who loved bats, who dedicated so much of his life to conserving them. [Theme music plays in full.] Madeline Vinh: Act One: Dusk. Gaby: Glacier's wildlife team hosts an event called "Going Batty" every summer. The public comes and gets to see bats up close. As the sun sets they welcome the attendees and give us all a short introduction. Their enthusiasm spreads throughout the entire crowd. Lisa: The main focus is just to give people a chance to see bats up close and learn about the amazing role they play in our ecosystems and some of the risks and threats they face and what people can do to help bats. And there's an old saying that you kill what you fear and you fear what you don't understand. So we take this as an opportunity to help people understand bats. Gaby: That's Lisa Bate. She's a wildlife biologist with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of energy. She's in perpetual motion, and her staff, who are half her age, have trouble keeping up with her. She studies the park's birds, and if those 250 plus species weren't enough to keep track of, she added ten species of bats to that list as well. Lisa: So far we have documented ten species and that's why we started the bat inventory and monitoring program. I came to the park in 2009 and I've always loved bats. I was the nerdy little kid in the meadow putting rocks in socks and throwing them up in the air and watching the bats come after them. I never really understood why I thought they like them because they were white socks. But, you know, I didn't know about echolocation back then. Gaby: I feel like bats get a bad rap. I think it comes from their associations with Halloween and vampires and like the general nighttime, but they're really remarkable. There are more than 1400 species of bats in the world. Bats are the only mammals that fly. They're expert echo locators and they pollinate over 500 plant species. So the next time you eat mangoes, avocados or bananas, you should thank a bat. And if you need another reason to love them, they eat millions of insects, every night. Lisa: I mean, I'm amazed at what scientists have learned about bats just in the years that I've been studying them. You know, we didn't know a lot, but there was just been this race against time to learn as much as we can before we lose species or, you know, massive amounts of populations of bats. But when I got to the park, I started hearing about this disease called white nose syndrome. Have you guys... Gaby: And white nose syndrome is terrifying. It's a non-native fungal infection that is killing bats as it spreads all across North America. Lisa: It was discovered in a cave in New York in 2006. And it just some cavers went into a cave and saw these bats just hanging there. And they had this white powdery fungus growing on their nose. So they alerted biologists to it. Biologists started going in the caves and saying, oh, yeah, something's really wrong here. [Somber synth music fades in.] Gaby: This fungus loves cold, dark and damp places. So it infects bats while they're hibernating over the winter, often in caves when they're all together. Lisa likes to say that a big brown bat, for example, needs the equivalent amount of fat of one pat of butter to make it through to spring. But when that fungus infects a bat, it makes them restless and active, burning that fat that it needs to survive the winter. This can mean starvation. Lisa: And any time about arouses from hibernation, they are using critical calories to get them through the winter. Think of that little pat of butter. I mean, how long would a pat of butter last us? Not very long. Gaby: But the White Nose syndrome response team has a map that shows how the fungus has spread since 2006. In 2010, it reached Missouri. In 2017, it reached Texas. And in 2020 it reached Montana. And where white nose has spread, their populations have been decimated. At some sites, it's killed between 90 and 100% of the population. And even though it's not in the park yet, we know it's coming. [Somber synth music fades out.] Lisa: We really knew nothing. No formal surveys had ever been conducted. We had like visuals of four species and acoustic recordings of two others. And of those four visuals, one bat, the big brown bat was roadkill. So that was our database. And I was like, Oh my gosh. So I started collaborating with the biologists in Waterton, and then in stepped the Glacier National Park Conservancy, and they funded the first bat inventories here in the park, and that was in 2011. Gaby: But Lisa couldn't do all of this on her own. The Conservancy support was critical, and so were the contributions of other scientists, including Lewis Young. [Light synth music fades in.] Lisa: I took over the program and then with volunteers, mainly Lewis Young. He's a retired Forest Service biologist, and he has been such an integral part of Glacier's bat inventory monitoring program. And I'd really like to honor him tonight. We lost him in April very unexpectedly, but without him there behalf of the bat program here at the park. And then Leah Breidinger, she stepped in and started helping, Lewis taught you a lot, I know, too. And, Gabby, you learned from Lewis. So a lot of us have really grown under the teachings of Lewis. So, you know, we're all just trying to fill his shoes, which are huge shoes to fill. Gaby: Lewis loved bats. He worked with a lot of animals in a long career as a wildlife biologist. But he called bats the underdog of mammals, and he always rooted for the underdog. I remember meeting him last year at Going Batty that year, and every time he trapped bats, actually, he wore a certain accessory. Lisa: Usually when we were here, he would do the fun fact part and wear his big bad hat. Gabby: He had like these hats that are fuzzy black bats with wings out the sides and then little eyeballs. It's like he was a giant bat. Yeah. Yeah. Gaby: It's like he wanted the bats to feel at home in his presence, and he welcomed them into his yard as well, which he basically turned into a bat sanctuary. Gabby: So, Lewis, he was the bat house expert here in Montana. Gaby: When I was a student at the University of Florida, I would often bike by a section of campus where the air was particularly pungent. There are three bat houses each, a little bit bigger than the size of a dorm room mounted on poles 20 feet above the ground. Together, they house almost half a million bats. These are way bigger than a backyard bat house, but they all provide bats with safe places to live. With their natural habitats in decline, setting up a secure and consistent home for them is an act of kindness, of love. Lisa: I love going to his house. He had what I called a bad house garden. It's funny, one of my techs said that to and she went looking for flowers. I'm like, "No," he just had three massive bad houses up on post, 20 feet up. Gaby: Decades ago, he and his wife Linda, built a small bat house in their backyard, but they quickly realized it wasn't enough. So soon after, they added a medium sized one, then a double. Then the condo went up. Lewis suspected that there were about 1200 bats living in their yard, and Linda joked that her neighbors, blissfully unaware of these extra residents, never had a mosquito problem. How many ways do you show those you love that you care about them? Lewis showed up for bats in every facet of his life. Volunteering countless hours, collecting data and training other scientists, helping raise public awareness and providing a refuge for them at his own home. [Somber synth music fades in.] Madeline Vinh: Act Two: Dark. Gaby: It's dark now and people are starting to reach for their jackets. There are bugs everywhere, which is kind of annoying for me, but really good news for bats and for the scientists trying to catch them. They'll assess each bat and gather data on the population before releasing them back into the night. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I start seeing blurry figures rapidly flying above me. I'm torn between wonder and worry for their fate. Gaby [field]: What's a good spot? What defines a good spot? Gabby: Oh, a place that bats would be flying to forage on insects or to get a drink of water. Gaby: That's Gabby Eaton. She works with Lisa on the wildlife team. They use something called a mist net to catch bats because the nets are so fine that they're basically impossible to see, especially in the dark. Gabby: So sometimes we look for places in the trees where there's openings, and then on water, we just kind of think of where they might be flying out from the woods to forage over the water here. Gaby [field]: So this net is set up under a bridge. Has it been successful in the past? Gabby: Yeah, I think that's why we did it. Yeah. [Distant train horn and bird song.] Gaby: They're hung in strategic places where bats might be flying. So in the forest or under the bridge where the smooth water of McDonald Creek slips by. Lisa: We just saw our first bat of the night here at the bridge this year, and they've been seeing bats up there in the forest longer. Gaby: So now I am walking over with Lisa over to their truck and they have all of these tools and equipment ready because it's time to process the bats. Lisa: ... we try to process them as soon as possible... Gaby: Okay. The wildlife team keeps the bats in little cloth bags where they really seem content. If it's a cold night, Lisa will tuck the baggies inside the top of her waders to keep the bats warm. In processing them. The team will measure their wings, calculate their weight, determine their sex, and so much more. All of this information helps clue them in to what species it is. Leah Breidinger: So the first thing we do is weight, right, Lisa? Lisa: Yeah. Leah: Well, put it on the scale in the bag and zero it. Then we'll take the bat out. There's our little bat. Mixed Voices: Oh it's so cute, little buddy! Gaby: This is my favorite part of the night, and I suspect it's everyone else's too. Lisa dims her headlamp and inspects each bat carefully. They're adorable, in an ugly-cute kind-of-way. They have shiny, soft looking brown fur with leathery wings and little wrinkly noses like a pug. Someone on the internet called them sky puppies. Lisa: Do you hear that sounds. Thanks for letting us know. [High pitched bat chittering sounds.] Gabby: Okay. 7.8 grams. Lisa: 7.8? Gabby: Yeah. [High pitched bat chittering sounds.] Lisa: What happened? Oh, they're swarming. Oh, because it's emitting distress calls. Oh, yeah. Sorry, little guy. [Synth music fades.] Gaby: Watching them feels like opening a doorway into a world I so rarely see. Everything that goes on while I sleep each night. To have up close what is normally a shadow flitting by is to see a sliver of darkness in light. This little creature has such a different experience on this earth than my own. Hunting by echolocation and thriving in the pitch dark. Where I am helpless. [High pitched bat chittering sounds.] Lisa: I'm sure it's a female... looks like a female. Mixed Voices: [Sounds of handling a bat.]. Mixed Voices: Female? Female. [High pitched bat chittering sounds.] Lisa: Then we're going to check for reproductive status, see if she's pregnant. I doubt she's pregnant. She would have pups by now. We palpate the abdomen. Leah: So I kind of just feel like that and I don't feel anything. You usually can feel something pretty hard in the stomach if they are pregnant. So. No, not pregnant, is what I would say. Gaby: At Going Batty last year I watched as Lewis processed one of the bats. He gently but quickly assessed the bat, but something seemed different. They released it and he kept reviewing the measurements he'd taken. A few days later, I got an all employee email with great news. Lewis had identified a new species in the park, a western, small-footed myotis. Even knowing the inevitable future of these bats, he was still working so hard to study and protect them. Lisa: And then look at the nipples, then we can tell--and this is one of the hardest things on earth to do, find a nipple on a bat. We can tell if you can see the nipple, we know she has given birth at least once. A young female that has never given birth, you really can't even find the nipple. And then you look for the hair around the nipple and you can and you can even squeeze the nipple to see if they're still lactating. Gaby: There are tears throughout the night as memories of Lewis come up. The team quietly honors him in practicing the techniques he taught them. His expertise and enthusiasm are missed, and so is his kindness. Gaby: When did you meet him? Gabby: I first met Lewis when I was the conservation intern through the Conservancy. I was a freshman, so I was like 19. He's a retired wildlife biologist who just volunteered with Lisa and loves bats more than any other person that I've ever met. Gaby: Really? Gabby: Yeah. Gaby: His wife, Linda, told me that he didn't start working with bats until a ways into his career, after a moment in 1980 when he came home as excited as she'd ever seen him. He'd found a bat trapped in a fence and managed to successfully release it. Something about that moment started a 40 year devotion and many sleepless nights. Gabby: He just was incredibly passionate about helping bats, and that's really all he cared about. I mean, he cared. He cared about other things, too. But yeah, it was like his main focus. And he was just a wonderful person to be around. Mm hmm. Gaby: Does this year feel different? Gabby: Yeah, for sure. Yeah, he would do the the bat facts with his bat hat on, and he was really soft spoken. So I think people had a hard time hearing him. But he had, like, all of the facts memorized by heart. And it was just so cool that he knew all of that. Gaby: Because he just lived and breathed bats. Gabby: We had a training for a white nose swabbing this spring, and he had such an impact that at the beginning of the training they said, we just want to let everyone know, Lewis passed away. And we were all so, so... were grieving him because he was such an amazing part of the whole, like, Montana's bat community. So, yeah. Far reaching. Yeah. Yeah. His wife donated all of his bat tracking gear to us, and so I had to go through all of that. And Lisa didn't want to go through it because it was like too hard for her to kind of look at it. But he had all these little trinkets and stuff in little notes inside his trapping gear that were just like, It was really sweet to see all that. Gaby: One thing that Gabby found were holding bags for the bats. Linda made a bunch of them by hand years ago, using fabrics with all kinds of patterns and colors. The team's favorite is the Mickey Mouse one. Lewis had his own set of nets as well. And the team tells me they've used his, all summer. Gabby: He's an inspiration, and I hope to be as amazing as he was and his legacy is. Yeah... [Music fades in.] Gaby: Linda was kind enough to tell me more about who Lewis was when he wasn't wearing the bat hat. He grew up in the Ozarks and was always passionate about animals. They met in grade school, she says sixth, and he says fifth. But she always knew she loved him. He was the cutest boy in school. They started dating in high school and married after graduating. She put him through college while he studied wildlife biology, and she would have been totally shocked if he had picked anything else. Throughout their lives, they observed the natural world, always together. [Music plays and concludes.] Lisa: Mites? Insects? Parasites? Leah: I did see one mite, I'm not I'm not finding the nipples, Lisa. Lisa: Well, she's old. Leah: Well. Lisa: Can I look at her? Leah: Yeah! Lisa: She's not obviously pregnant. I mean so often it just stands right out. But, you know, it was... Oh, there is a nipple right there. Now squeeze it a little. Did you see milk come out? No. Leah: No. Lisa: No. Okay. So she has... Gaby: The tiniest thing. Lisa: Well, was really hard to find, but she obviously hasn't given birth this year. Gaby: They don't seem to love being handled and they make chirping sounds and try to nibble Lisa's gloved hands. But it doesn't take long to process each bat, and they do one final test before letting them go. It's unusual to detect white nose during the summer months. That's why they swab for it in the spring. But they look for it just in case. Leah: So you can check for white nose syndrome by using the UV light and it'll fluoresce orange. But we've got to turn off our headlamps to do that. Lisa: In this light, you don't want in anybody's eyes. And this is when we do our swabbing. This is our last step. Oh, that looks really clean. Leah: So we'd be seeing orange flecks if it had white nose. Lisa: Let's look at the other wing. I don't see any scarring either, but it did have nubby ears, right? Leah: Yes, it did. Lisa: And we record all that. Okay. Leah: It's always great when you don't find it. Gaby: For a few moments. It's quiet and everyone holds their breath while they wait to find out. This bat doesn't seem to have it yet. But I try not to think about what could happen this winter or to the 1200 bats that live in Lewis's backyard. Well, those houses be empty someday. Are they safe? [Footsteps walking on gravel.] Lisa: Okay, Now you want to release her? Yeah. Gaby: Lisa and I turn off our headlamps and walk to the edge of the forest to release the bat. There's no light, no chirping, no noise. Everything is quiet. She pauses for a moment, as though she's saying goodbye, and then sets it free. I wonder where it will go. [Synth music fades in and out.] Madeline Vinh: Act Three: Dawn. Gaby: I knew this day was coming. And it's here. It's a cool, clear morning and I soak in the warm sunlight peeking over the ridge as I walk over to meet the wildlife team. We're about to find out the news we've been waiting for. [Footsteps walking on gravel.] Gaby: So I'm walking over to Lisa's office because she messaged me that she finally got the real email. Gaby: Are you feeling nervous now that... Lisa: You're here? Yeah, I always get nervous. This is from the National Wildlife Health Center. And this is where we sent our swab test to go. And these are our results to find out-- Gaby: --so this was from the swabs that you collected in earlier this spring. Lisa: Yeah, on the east side. Gaby: And so right before, what do you think is waiting for you inside of this email? Lisa: I think it's going to be negative. And the reason why is because I have not received any phone calls. Gaby: I see Lewis his legacy everywhere as I look around at the team. Their courage and dedication in the face of everything that is to come. Their hope for the future and their love and commitment to these sky puppies. Lewis His passion was contagious. Linda tells me that he loved working with Lisa and mentoring the young wildlife technicians, but that was the best part. Lisa: Oh look, great news: "Thanks for all you do for bats!" Yay! Gaby: Aww! Oh wow! Lisa: That's really good. Yeah... Gaby: Lisa's teary eyed, and so am I. I think of Lewis, and I'm comforted that this news would have brought him joy. Lisa: Yeah. This is great news for Glacier. Gaby: So why is this good news if it sort of feels inevitable? Lisa: Our hope is that our North American bats build natural immunity against white nose syndrome. So the more time we have here in Glacier without the disease here, maybe some of those bats are developing immunity. [Theme music fades in.] Gaby: Even in some of the areas that were hit the hardest by white nose. Scientists are now finding that bat populations are slowly, ever so slowly, starting to come back. Lisa: So we're just watching and waiting, and hoping for the best for these guys... Gaby: Linda tells me that she still loves watching the bats emerge from the houses in her backyard. I like to think they remind her of Lewis. [Ending theme music builds under credits.] Peri Sasnett: This episode is in memory of Lewis Young. Peri: Special thanks to Lynda Young for generously sharing her memories and stories with us. Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacey Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Peri: Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our shownotes. Peri: Lisa Bate, Kaile Kimbal, Gabby Eaton, Megan Potter and the whole wildlife team were instrumental, and many thanks to the very batty Sarah Gaulke for answering all of our bat questions and for encouraging us to tell this story. And an extra shout out to Madeline Vinh for coming through in the clutch. Peri: Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening. Kaile: It's definitely worth staying up late for, yeah. Oh, my goodness. This is amazing. This is the best moment of my life. I'm in love. I'm going to cry.

  • Feb 6, 2024 · 29 min

    Does Hiking Impact Wildlife? Check the Camera

    What do animals do when we’re not around? One way to answer that is by using remote cameras. By focusing on two camera studies in Glacier, we learn more about two animals in the park, and those of us who visit it. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Michael Faist: My parents met working at a camera store, so we always had a lot of camera gear around the house. But when I was 13, my parents gave me my very first DSLR with a big chunky frame and a zoom lens. I had a tiny point-and-shoot camera before that, but I was convinced something that could fit in my pocket would not be enough camera for our family vacation to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. Michael: The Rockies were unlike anything I'd ever seen growing up in the Midwest. And armed with my new camera, I took pictures of everything. The view from every scenic pull out, every wildflower. Photogenic cloud or notably large pinecone. But one picture from that trip that stands out in my memory is a photo I took of a moose. The first moose I'd ever seen. Neck deep in a lake holding its massive antlers above the water as it swam from one side to the other. Michael: It was gone within a few minutes, and the photo, looking back on it, wasn't all that impressive. But I think about that moose often as one of the first experiences I had with a wild animal. At least one bigger than a squirrel. It kickstarted a fascination I still have with the natural world and an appreciation of the power the photography has to capture moments like this. Wild animals in the wild. Michael: It's no wonder that cameras are one of the most common accessories you see around Glacier today. They are the lens, pun intended, through which many of us see and remember national parks. But cameras are also increasingly being used by scientists to study the same animals us visitors feel lucky to see especially remote cameras which trigger when they sense movement. These "camera traps," as they're called, can reveal glimpses into a side of Glacier that we can never see, how wildlife behave when there are no people around. [Car sounds] Michael: We are in the car. Peri Sasnett: Where are we going? Michael: We're driving up the road out of East Glacier that heads towards Two Medicine, looking for a camera. Peri: And what's the camera looking for? Michael: The camera is looking for moose. Largest member of the deer family. Very charismatic. Big noses. Peri: I feel like charismatic is debatable. Michael: I love moose. Peri: I think a lot of people love moose and a lot of people think moose are one of the uglier creatures. Michael: What? How could you think Moose are ugly? Peri: I'm not saying I think that, but I've heard people say that. Michael: Gangly? Yes. Ugly? No! Peri: Weird little dewlap thing dangling. Michael: [Laughs] It's charming! [Theme music fades in.] Peri: Some say charming. Michael: You're listening to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. I'm Michael. Michael: In this episode, we're zooming in on two different animals one big and one small, one you may have seen and one you may have never heard of. They'll help us understand the increasing use of cameras in the field of wildlife biology and reveal that even if you leave no trace, you have a bigger impact on the natural world than you might think. [Car sounds] Michael: We're turning just before the road to the Two Med entrance. Going off the pavement. Michael: Peri and I went out for a day to check on a wildlife camera with Landon McGee. Landon Magee: Ah, yeah, so my name's Landon Magee. I'm a Master's student at the University of Montana in the Wildlife Biology program. I'm an enrolled member of the Blackfeet Tribe. Michael: We were joined by one of Landon's technicians, Ethan Rowe. The two of them are working for Blackfeet Nation Fish and Wildlife, leading a moose study on the Blackfeet reservation and the eastern portion of Glacier National Park. Landon: You know, they love kind of where areas people call them "swamp donkeys" just because they kind of similar by and they like to hang out in the swamps and wade through the ponds and eat kind of some aquatic vegetation can find them long stream bottoms, creek bottoms, river bottoms... Michael: And Landon, who has been placing cameras all over the place this year, was nice enough to take me and Peri to the easiest-to-reach camera in his whole study. Landon: Yeah, so we're just going to head about 50 yards into this big aspen stand here. Michael: [to Landon] Great, we'll follow your lead. Peri: Sweet! I mean, this looks like moose habitat. Landon: Yeah. Michael: Now I find moose to be really interesting and not even slightly ugly. As the second largest mammals in North America, they're really strong. Bull Moose's iconic antlers can grow up to five feet across, and they use those antlers to fight over female moose. [Grunting moose sounds and clattering antlers.] Michael: Which is a great excuse to remind folks to stay 25 yards away from moose and other non-predator wildlife in the park. Landon: Like any other animal. Give them their distance, you know, just let them do what they need to. You know, it's, you know, the added stress of people trying to get up close just puts more stress on them that they don't really need. Michael: But at the same time, moose are seen as gentle giants. We see them as being so friendly that they usually have Canadian accents in movies like the Disney movie, "Brother Bear.". [Clip from movie begins playing.] Brother Bear Film Clip: "Oh, look, I am sorry. If I was driving this never would have happened, eh. You never let me drive you never let me do nothing. Oh, trample off, eh! I said I was sorry. Let it go. I can't believe you totaled a mammoth." [Clip from movie fades out.] Michael: And maybe this blend of strength and friendliness can help explain why Moose are so popular. We ran a People's Choice Awards contest on Glacier's Instagram a few years ago, and moose were voted the most popular animal in the park, beating mountain goats and grizzly bears. Michael: But despite all their charisma and their massive size, we don't actually know much of anything about how they're doing as a species around Glacier. Landon: You know, we really didn't know what their status of the moose population was on the Reservation. And then the park hasn't done like any kind of moose study in I think somewhere close to 60 years. So they really didn't know anything about their moose population currently either. And so Blackfeet had listed it kind of as a "species of interest." And yeah, just that just I guess, snowballed into this project. Michael: I checked. There haven't been any moose studies in the park in 60 years, but Landon's changing that. His study is measuring the moose population on the Blackfeet reservation and much of the east side of Glacier. And to do that, he placed cameras like the one we're at today throughout his study area. And all of the cameras were placed at random. Landon: Sitting down and trying to pick, you know, 100 camera locations of where, you know, would be good spots would be very time consuming and hard to do. And of course, it introduces a lot of bias. And so having this truly random sampling allows you to get into places you thought you'd never go your whole life. I know there's, there's been a few that I've been to both summers so far. Michael: And so we're visiting this easy to reach camera to make sure it's still working. Landon's technician, Ethan, walked us through the check up. Ethan Rowe: When we're arming the camera, we like to put it waist-high, so it would just sit, like, somewhere right here. Peri: That's like knee-high on a moose! [All laugh] Ethan: Yeah. So right now we're doing a revisit, so we're just checking up on the camera, just if the camera was still functional. We changed the memory card at all... and if we did, the I.D. Of it. Michael: The downside of randomly distributing your cameras, though, is that while some are 50 yards off the road and easy to hike to while holding a microphone, others require miles of bushwhacking through areas with no trails. Honestly, it sounds a little heinous, but that hasn't deterred Ethan. Ethan: And hikes are a big plus of it, you know. Peri: Are you sure? Ethan: I really enjoy the hike sometimes, even though I like to complain along the way. I think when I'm done with it, I really tell Landon, "I really appreciate it out here." Michael: With these randomly placed cameras set far enough apart to avoid double counting the same moose during a certain time frame. Landon can run all the data through a computer model to estimate how many moose live here. And the data isn't just a bunch of ones and zeroes. It's pictures, which for Landon, has been fun to look through, but a lot of work. Michael: [to Landon] With, you know, dozens of cameras out at a time, like, how many pictures do you capture over the course of a summer? Landon: Last year, we did 100 cameras. And I think with all of those, we had over, just a little over 2 million photos. Michael: [to Landon] 2 million!? Landon: Yeah. Thinking about that: these cameras are set to both motion detection, (so anything that walks by, grass blowing, anything will set it off), but it also takes a picture every 15 minutes. Part of a time lapse function on the camera. So it has both of those modes going the entire summer. Michael: [to Landon] So 2 million, how do you go through that? Landon: A lot of time bent over at a computer. [All laugh and drum beat music fades in.] Michael: Blowing grass... waving branch.. blowing grass... Moose? [Drumbeat music stops.]. Michael: He had some research assistants to help sort through these images. And some companies are even marketing A.I. tools that promise to speed up the process. But despite manually sifting through 2 million photos, Landon was excited about the results. Landon: You know, I guess looking through the cameras last year, there was a lot more sightings than I had anticipated. We were a little worried that we weren't going to get a whole lot of moose detections just because of how, you know, just having these cameras in the middle of nowhere. And what are the chances of a moose, you know, walking by my camera in such a large area? Michael: Landon emphasized that one of the things he loves about these photos is you get to see how Moose behave when there's no one around to watch. Landon: One of the cooler photos or videos we had on the video cameras we had out last year was a moose calf nursing. And you could hear like the sucking noise of the calf just going to town. Peri: Wow, that's amazing! Landon: Yeah, it was cool. It's probably the best video I have. Michael: This is the audio from that clip. [Nature sounds and sucking sounds fade in.] Michael: To paint the picture, the calf is mostly hidden by thimbleberry bushes as it reaches up to its mom. An adult female moose can easily be six feet tall and weigh 1,000 pounds, while a newborn calf weighs as much as a small dog like a corgi. Landon: And this getting that firsthand view into, you know, what their life looks like when nobody is out here. You know, they've there's probably been some areas where they've never seen a human or a big gray box strapped to a tree. And so seeing what they do and how they interact with that, it's been pretty cool. Michael: [to Landon] I guess, just as a baseline, like why why use cameras as a tool in the first place instead of like going out in the field and sitting around all day? Landon: Well, I think I mean, a lot of the stuff that I'm trying to do can be accomplished with more invasive techniques like collaring, capturing, chemical immobilization, helicopter, all that, just really invasive kind of stresses animal out a lot and also costs a lot of money. Michael: As with so many things, the biggest factor is cost. There are a lot of species deserving of study and relatively little money to go around. So you have to have a good reason to get a wildlife study funded for Landon's. It's the fact that moose hunting funds a lot of conservation work on the Blackfeet Reservation. Blackfeet Nation Fish and Game, along with Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks, issue a small amount of moose tags every year, permits to hunt a moose on Tribal, state or federal land. But to be clear, not in Glacier National Park. Landon: Say, do an auction system until they bid on the tag. And I think the starting bid for moose is like $14,000. And we usually get it up to like $30, $35,000 for a moose tag. Yeah. So, I mean, that's a huge source of revenue for the department. I mean. Michael: By better understanding the number of moose on the Blackfeet Reservation. Fish and Game can issue an appropriate number of tags without fear of harming moose populations as a whole. And on top of that, we'll also get insight into the moose in Glacier, which speaks to one of the appealing traits of camera traps. They're pretty cheap. High quality cameras are getting less expensive every year, and the only expense beyond that is the time it takes to install and remove them. Landon, Ethan and their small team can realistically study a huge area. Landon: You know, Moose don't know political boundaries, so, you know, you're going to have moves that are going back and forth and whether you're going to get them on the reservation during your time, sampling is going to be difficult to predict. And so having cameras in the park kind of allows you to understand that transboundary movement. Michael: Landon's work stands to help Glacier and the Blackfeet Nation manage Moose, but his study is still underway, so there's no population estimate for him to report just yet. Landon: People always tell me that, you know, "How many moose out there?" Peri: Let me get back to you in a couple years. Landon: Give me two years. I'll let you know. [everyone laughs] [Music fades in] Michael: We'll have to stay tuned to see what Landon learns down the road. But you don't have to wait to see the results of a camera study. You just have to look to another animal. [Music concludes] Alissa Anderson: So they have these very specialized adaptations for living in the deep, deep powdery snow environment. I don't know. I mean, they're cats. You know, cats are kind of weird. Michael: This is Alissa Anderson. Starting in 2019 as a grad student at the University of Montana, Alissa led a camera trap study of a mammal in Glacier that is far more elusive than moose, the Canada Lynx. Michael: [to Alissa] Have you ever seen the lynx in person? Alissa: I have only seen a lynx associated with a live trap for research, so I consider that to be cheating. I did work for one winter trapping for research. I walked up to the trap there just like I had one lynx that literally I think it was singing death metal to me. [Clip of a lynx yowling] Michael: It's rare to see any wildcat in Glacier this summer. After ten years of working and living here, I finally saw my first mountain lion. And they're four times bigger than lynx are. Alissa: It's funny. And then you get all these tourists who go to Glacier for one day and send you these videos, and they're like, Hey, is this a lynx? I'm like, "Oh my God, I'm hike that trail 10 million times. You have no idea how lucky you are!" Michael: But while I'd guess few park visitors have even heard of Canada Lynx, they're a really fascinating animal and they're perfectly suited to live in Glacier. Alissa: They are a specialized cat species that has evolved to live in what we call the Boreal Forest. So, you know, mostly across Canada, Alaska. And then that Boreal Forest does reach down a little bit into the lower 48. Part of their specialization is that they specialize in eating snowshoe hare. It's the vast majority of their diet. Michael: Lynx and their favorite food, the snowshoe hare, both have huge feet relative to their body weight, which allows them to run on top of deep snow. I found a great example of this in a 1976 documentary called "Day of the Lynx." In the clip, filmed in the winter, you see a coyote sneaking up on a snowshoe hare. [Clip from "Day of the Lynx plays.] Day of the Lynx narrator: "A coyote has been diligently following the trail of a snowshoe hare. It flushes, running in the direction of the big lynx." Michael: Then you see the lynx, tall tufts of black hair on their pointed ears, comically large feet, poised and waiting. Day of the Lynx narrator: "It can run atop the snow, unlike the coyote who breaks through the crust and travel slower. The coyote stays doggedly on the trail, but he's too late. The Lynx has made the kill.". [Clip from "Day of the Lynx concludes and synth music plays briefly.] Michael: Glacier has seen less and less snow over the years since the park was established. The park gets 30 fewer days each year of freezing temperatures compared to 1980, the equivalent of a month that used to be freezing cold. The now isn't. So for lynx, this cold adapted animal, climate change is a huge concern. Big enough that they were listed under the Endangered Species Act. Their threatened status encourages groups like our very own Glacier National Park Conservancy, to fund Lynx research like Alissa's. Alissa: The main facet was what we call an occupancy survey. So where are we detecting them? What kind of areas are occupied by Lynx? Michael: Landon is studying moose by counting them, since he's doing a population estimate. In contrast, Alissa's study wasn't designed to count lynx, but to figure out where they live, and where they don't. And she focused her cameras on park trails. Alissa: Like a lot of carnivores have been found to use human trails You know, you have a higher probability of detecting by putting cameras on trails. Michael: [to Alissa] They can get anywhere much faster on trail. Alissa: Yeah. And so having cameras on trail means that you can put cameras out without using any kind of bait or lure and still have, you know, a decent probability of detecting carnivore species or these, like, more rare, elusive species. Michael: Landon's randomly placed cameras make sense for his population estimate and works well in part because Moose are six feet tall. Lynx, on the other hand, are just two feet tall and would disappear in a lot of Glacier's brush. Focusing on trails is a great way to spot lynx. It works great for Eliza's occupancy study and helps her avoid most of the bushwhacking that Landon has to do. But she still used a lot of cameras. Alissa: So we used 300 and, I want to say, 305 cameras for the Lynx occupancy study, four cameras per cell across the whole park, basically. Michael: And searching through these images it wasn't just lynx she got pictures of. Alissa: I think my favorite was porcupine. I think we got, I want to say, 13 porcupine. Which is the same number we got bobcat. We got hardly any bobcat. More porcupine than I expected. Michael: Porcupines are another poorly understood animal in Glacier. Ever since the eighties, they've been an increasingly rare sight, and nobody's really sure why. Data from Alissa's lynx-focused work could contribute to separate research on porcupines or other species in the park. Alissa: So we also have this big trove of data on every other species of wildlife that happens to use trails in Glacier, which is a really cool and powerful part of cameras, I think. Michael: But of course, she also saw a lot of lynx. In total, they captured 404 images of lynx and the cats showed up on 25% of the cameras she put out throughout the park. Many images were simply lynx walking by, but others were more unique. Alissa: We did get one set of photos of a lynx walking by with three little kittens running around in front of her with their tail sticking up and just looking cute. So that was cool. We got one photo of a, well, looks like to be a juvenile snowshoe hare of the year running in front of the camera, being chased by a lynx, which was super crazy. Michael: [to Alissa] Oh, and I'm sure they run out of frame so you never know what happened. Alissa: I don't know. But they were very close, like within to think of each other. So I have a feeling that, yeah, young one did not-- Michael: [to Alissa] Didn't make it. Michael: And this study in Glacier adds to a larger body of research in northwest Montana. The audio of a Lynx vocalizing that we shared earlier-- [Clip of lynx yowling plays.] Michael: came from a monitoring project looking for rare carnivores in the Swan Valley, south of Glacier. It was shared with us by the Southwest Crown Collaborative and Swan Valley Connections. Knowing where lynx live now allows us to notice when and how they're impacted by climate change and other stressors, and that'll help the park manage for their success. These photos have also been exciting for park visitors and employees because they're a window into the hidden lives of our wildlife. [Music fades in.] Alissa: We got a handful of wolverine, I think maybe 12 or something, and that's always fun. You never see so many of these animals, or very rarely. And it's just a really cool way to just, you know, see what all is around you and using the same trails that you're using. It's sort of funny; there were a couple of times when you just going through the photos, you know, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, and organizing, it'd be like a grizzly bear or even once, I think a lynx, you know, within minutes of a human- Michael: [to Alissa] Really?! Alissa: -like, in the exact same spot, you're like, Wow, I wonder how that worked out?! Yeah. [electronic music fades in sampling the "Day of the Lynx" narrator saying, "During what we call, The Day of the Lynx!" then music fades out.] Michael: But Alissa's research also revealed another, more surprising, conclusion. Alissa: Yeah. So basically more or less half of the park, the east side of the park, stayed closed to the public in 2020. Michael: Because of the timing of a lesser study, 2019 through 2021, her work overlapped with the arrival of COVID-19. And because of the pandemic in the summer of 2020, half of Alissa's study area was closed to the public as a precaution to limit the spread of COVID. The Blackfeet reservation shut down. And the park, who shares a boundary with the reservation, closed its eastern entrances to support that precaution. Areas west of the continental divide remained open, but eastern entrances like St. Mary, Many Glacier, and Two Medicine, were closed. This posed a roadblock for Alissa's research, but there was an agreement that allowed for limited administrative use so long as nobody stopped on the reservation, even for gas. And Alissa's research made the cut. Alissa: So we were very fortunate and grateful to be able to continue our work on the east side during the summer of 2020. And it did provide a really unique opportunity, sort of more of an experimental design. Michael: It was a perfect setup for an experiment she never could have arranged otherwise. One year of data with wildlife and people, and one year with wildlife and no people. Alissa: We had cameras out in the same exact location during the same time period, different years. But like, you know, June 15th till August 15th or whatever in 2020. And also in a year when the park was open to the public and there were thousands of people and like hundreds of people every single day walking in front of those locations. So we were able to compare wildlife activity and presence and detection and those two different scenarios. Michael: Right away, comparing the open and closed years revealed a pattern. Alissa: For the most part, most of the findings were that when there's fewer people around, you know, the animals were being detected more frequently or at more different places. You know, I think some of the ones that were strongest were elk and coyote. Michael: Coyotes were seeing way more often when there weren't people around. Alissa: Coyote kind of surprised me, honestly, because, you know, they're kind of a generalist species and they can, you know, get used to stuff. Michael: And I mean, you see pictures in some communities where they're like riding the subway! So you'd think they'd be more kind of comfortable. Alissa: Yeah, that kind of surprised me that they had such a strong reaction, negative reaction to increased human use. Michael: That same trend was observed in a lot of animals, including lynx, moose, bighorn sheep and black bears, although it wasn't true of every species. Foxes were the opposite. The probability of detecting a red fox was higher in the summer with people on trail. Alissa: So, you know, one theory could be we found more foxes because we were finding fewer coyotes, and coyotes are dominant over foxes. And so that's, you know, an explanation. That's just, I think that's super interesting. Michael: This is something I feel like I and a lot of folks have anecdotal understanding of. It feels like deer like to be around people, whereas you're encouraged to make noise on trails so you won't run into a bear, as bears generally don't want to be around us. Michael: But when that personal experience becomes a statistically significant research conclusion, it made me reconsider the impact I have on this place. Michael: It's tempting for me to imagine if you're following all the principles of leave no trace, you know, hiking up to Avalanche Lake like you're not disturbing anything. The park is kind of behaving as it would be if you weren't there. And your paper seems to imply that that's not true. Alissa: Even if you don't hit an animal with your car or you're not hunting an animal or you're not throwing rocks, an animal or your dogs not chasing an animal simply by existing on the landscape and walking on trails, I mean, we do have an influence on wildlife activity patterns and space use, simply just by being there. Michael: This hits at the core of the Park Service's mission, to preserve and protect the natural world here, while also providing for the enjoyment of visitors. Two goals that seem to be in tension with one another. A dual mandate at odds with itself. Alissa: So it's a really interesting conundrum. I think you were saying, sort of the dual mandate of the park, right? I'm certainly not going to advocate for closing the park forever to people. I think that's insane. I think it is kind of interesting to imply that that's necessarily bad. I don't want to say that that's necessarily bad like humans have existed on this landscape with all of these animals, you know, forever. It's just it's interesting and it's something that I think, you know, now we certainly need to think about and consider a little bit more carefully because we have thousands, millions of people, you know, hiking down some of these trails, you know, over the course of just a three month period. Michael: I've talked for years with visitors and colleagues about this tension in the NPS mission, but I'd always pictured it applying to large scale management decisions like wanting to build a new parking lot. It felt like something I could avoid on a personal level by doing the right thing, which in hindsight feels a little naive. I like working here because I felt like my work can have a positive impact. But Alissa's study left me wondering if the best thing I could do for lynx and moose, is leave. Michael: But at the same time, the reason I care about wildlife is because of experiences I've had, in nature. Experiences in national parks, like that mediocre photo I took of the first moose I'd ever seen. And it's unlikely so many people from around the world would care about this remote corner of northwest Montana if they'd never been here, if they'd never had the chance to connect with it on a personal level, to go hiking in the mountains, to see wildlife in the wild, forming memories that last a lifetime. Finally, the only way for Glacier to responsibly manage animals like moose and lynx, is to understand them, which takes research, sending passionate, curious people out into the park to learn more. Ethan: Yeah, you know, that was my first camera did by myself. You know, I guess it's just the bird leaving the nest. Michael: People like Ethan, the wildlife tech working with, Landon on the moose study. After two summers with Landon, Ethan is pursuing a degree in wildlife biology this fall at the University of Montana. Ethan: You know, I always wanted to be out here doing this type of work, and I think that's a big motivation for me, is that, you know, not a lot of people are out here and that, you know, as me and him just trying to make a new step into history. Peri: Moose pioneers! Alissa: I mean, I guess it's the idea of do we only care about species for the viewing enjoyment of the public or do we care about them for their intrinsic value on the landscape and also for their important ecological roles? And if you care about that and you care about every species. [Closing theme music fades in.] Peri: Alissa's research suggests that even treading lightly, we will have an impact on the natural world here--it's unavoidable. But if we can accept that, it encourages us to think about the kind of impact we would like to have. [Closing theme music plays fully under Peri reading the credits.] Peri: Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Peri: Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our show notes. Peri: Special thanks this episode to Landon Magee, Ethan Rowe, Alissa Anderson, Mark Biel, John Waller, and Swan Valley Connections and the Southwest Crown Collaborative for sharing their amazing lynx growls. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Jan 23, 2024 · 22 min

    Chasing Waterfalls: The Search for Glacier’s Hidden Wildlife

    Chasing one of Glacier’s most elusive species, and getting comfortable in the dark. This is the story of Black Swifts in Glacier. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: How many animals have you walked by and never noticed? How many species live around you that you've never even heard of? Amy Seaman: Most people are kind of excited that they had no idea another thing existed and I think that is-it's like yet one more mystery. Peri: One of these unknown species is a rarely seen creature that most people here have never heard of. They live behind waterfalls and can travel up to 90 miles an hour. Amy: Yeah, it's fun because they're really dark and you just think it's a bat or something, so we started calling them black lightning. Peri: To have a chance at seeing them. Most of the time you'll need to leave the trail, bushwhack for hours with alders swatting you in the face and mosquitoes trying to bite you as sweat drips down your face. Then those same alders lend a hand. As the terrain turns steep and you use them to pull yourself up precipitous slopes. Then the shrubs fade away and you're clambering up a steep field of loose rock, feeling them shifting as you step and hoping they stay put. Oh, and by the way, it's 4:00 in the morning, so it's pitch black. [theme music fades in; starting with a mandolin] Finally, you reach the base of a waterfall where the rocks are slick underfoot and it's loud from the pounding water and cold and damp from the ever-present mist. And this is where you find them. Black swifts. [theme continues; a drumbeat, a flute line, and other instruments come in, before the music finishes] Peri: I'm Peri, and you're listening to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. I love birds, seeing them, hearing them, and also counting them. This year so far, I found 242 species and counting, but I've never seen a black swift. For a lot of birders, seeing a brand-new species can be a highlight of your month or even of your year. It's called a life bird. I've looked for black swifts every summer I've lived here, but I strike out every time. They're basically big black cigars that fly thousands of feet in the air, and they're incredibly hard to see. But today, I'm going out with Amy Seaman from Montana Audubon and her team to survey for these elusive birds. And hopefully I'll be in luck. But this isn't just a story about me going birdwatching. It's a story about learning to feel comfortable in the dark and how to cherish the mysteries we may never solve. [birds singing] Amy: Once it shoots out, your eye might not pick it up until like out here, where it's out further from the waterfall and I think part of that is just the speed they come out. Peri: [in the field] Which is how fast? Amy: So fast. [laughter] [voices slowly fade under the narration] Peri: That’s Amy. She's an all-around bird expert, but has spent a lot of the last ten summers looking for black swifts in a collaborative effort between Montana Audubon and the Park with support from the Glacier Conservancy. With her help, I thought it'd be a lot easier to find them, but it is definitely not easy. Peri: [in the field] So birds are basically too fast to see in your binoculars. Amy: They really are. Peri: And if you want a glimpse of them, you're going to have to do an alpine start. Peri: [in the field] I rolled out of bed at 3:05, got dressed and brushed my teeth and tumbled down the stairs and had just enough time to zoom out the door into the car to then drive an hour to get here. Peri: So I'm tired. There's rain in the forecast and it's also fully dark outside. Black swifts are early risers, much earlier than me. They're not quite nocturnal, but they aren't just active during the day either. Amy and other researchers have had the most luck looking for them around their nests at dawn or dusk. Peri: [in the field] We’re on the side of the Going to the Sun Road, where a creek flows below the road through a culvert, and we're starting to hear the first birdsong. And we're staring at a waterfall, [birds singing] trying to see these little black specks moving at 90 miles an hour. Peri: Black swifts are aerial insectivores, meaning they catch and eat bugs as they fly, especially flying ants. One study found swifts regularly flying at altitudes over 13,000 feet, and they're almost always flying. When they're not nesting, they spend 99% of their time in the air day and night. That's something like eight months of flying. [pensive synth music fades in] How do you study a bird that basically never stops? [birds singing] [sound of rushing water fades in] Peri: [in the field] So how long have you been doing swifts surveys? Amy: This is actually year ten, the beginning of the 10th year. Peri: [in the field] Oh, wow. Amy: Yeah. Which is so fun to think, but it's fun. We have just as many questions, but we have learned a lot more. [music fades out] Peri: [in the field] So when you started, you didn't know how many birds there were, didn't know how to look for them, didn't know what their nest sites really looked like. Amy: Exactly. Peri: But despite the things that Amy and others have been able to learn, there's plenty of mystery left. And Amy loves it. Amy: [to Peri, in the studio] I've always wanted to know what's around me. That was a lifetime goal of like when I'm a kid and I want to grow up, I want to say, hey, I'm on a hike, and what is this thing that I'm walking near or pretty flower that I'm looking at? Then you're like, wait, there is stuff we don't know. So it was this whole circle of like- Peri: You're a black swift explorer. Amy: I can't believe there's a bird that we found the sixth nest of in the state. Peri: That's incredible. Amy: It's a wild sentence, and it's so fun, and you're like, we didn't know where they wintered until 2012. Peri: [narration] Scientists have learned about many birds migrations through banding programs that started in the early 1900s. But it wasn't until 2012 that we started to learn where swifts migrate. Using tiny geo locators, researchers in Colorado discovered that they were wintering in the lowland forests of Brazil. But where exactly our swifts from Montana go, is still a question, but we do know that they're declining. A 2016 report compiled by Partners in Flight estimated dramatic declines since 1970. Climate change, pesticides and habitat disturbance are all pressuring these birds. So much about them, especially Glacier’s population, is unknown. Amy: And I'll never forget my first year at Sperry Chalet meeting a person who had hiked here for decades and had never heard of this bird. And he could name every plant on the side of the trail. So he's like, well, what are you guys here for? And we’re like, oh, actually, these birds right up in this waterfall that he's-you mean you can look out from the chalet and you've seen for years, and then he was just floored. Peri: And Amy's been working to study swifts and spread the word about them for the last ten years. Amy: There's enough sites now to start monitoring to a number of birds because, of course, at some point, you know, funders want to know. Conservationists want to know like, well, what's the number? Are we running out? Are they declining? Are they not? [pensive synth music fades in] Peri: Personally, I'll just be happy if I get a little glimpse of just one. [birds singing] [rushing water sound fades in] Peri: [in the field] Okay. Have I missed anything? Amy: Not yet. Just staring. [Peri chuckles] Peri: I'm standing with Amy and her team, [music slowly fades out] all of us staring intently at the waterfall, coming out from under Going to the Sun Road. I'm bundled up, but the cold, damp air is still somehow seeping in. Peri: [in the field] It's 5:25 now. I still see no swifts, although it's seeming less absurd that I might be able to see them now that it's a little lighter. But it hasn't happened yet. Amy: We do call them the swifting hour. There's like a certain light that starts to settle in in the morning or night, and you're like, oh okay, this is I can feel the activity now… [Amy’s voice fades under narration] Peri: Maybe Amy could feel it, but I was not at her level. [birds singing] [rushing water sound fades in] Peri: [in the field] So I'm just looking at the waterfall in my binoculars and we talked for like two hours yesterday about how you can find the nest and what to look for and this kind of nook or crevice or the whitewash from their pops out of the nest. And they made it all seem very straightforward. And I am befuddled. [rushing water sound fades out] Peri: Needless to say, seeing a swift, even with Amy's help, was not going to be as simple as I'd hoped. But compared to most of their sites, which involve not just a drive but hiking miles off trail to get to… this is a breeze. [rushing water sound fades in] Peri: [in the field] So is this like the cruisiest survey spot you guys have? Amy: Yes. [Peri chuckles] I would say I've never rolled up and I was like, I'm going to wear Crocs just because I can this morning. [Peri chuckles] Peri: It was enough of a challenge for me to get up at three in the morning and grateful we did not have to backpack here or bushwhack for hours up a mountain. Amy: So like swifting is not for the faint of heart. [Chuckling] Peri: You would be right. Amy: Also, because you get so excited sometimes like, oh, I'm going to have a heart attack because of my excitement level. [Peri chuckles] Peri: I can't say that I was at heart attack levels of excitement, but some booms of thunder did start to get my heart going. [thunder and rain fade in] Peri: [in the field] Okay. Status update. It's 5:59 a.m. It's thundering quite a bit, seeing some lightning off to the north. I still have seen no swifts. I don't know if this is looking promising. [thunder and rain get louder] Amy: Shoot. I might just put my rain jacket on. If it's pouring, we won't survey, but we have done some like half rainy ones. Peri: It's honestly hard to tell if it's passed on yet because the storm clouds have made it so dark. We take refuge in the car and the storm lets loose. [car door opens and closes] [thunder and rain intensifies] Rain is coming down in sheets and pouring off the cliffs above the road. In a way, the wet weather is appropriate. Black swifts nest behind waterfalls peeking out through the mist with their big dark eyes. As the clouds empty around me and my nose fogs the car window, I suppose I'm getting a glimpse of what their habitat might feel like. [rain and thunder fades out] One question I had was why did they so often nest behind or around waterfalls in the first place? There isn't conclusive evidence, but experts think it serves a few purposes. The first is to avoid predators, and another possibility is climate control. Amy: But then, apparently the water is good for the temperature to be cool because they're not fluctuating. Amy: Like they're not getting so hot either- Peri: [in the field] It’s just steady. Amy: Yeah I think it stays basically like 45 degrees all the time. Peri: Glacier has plenty of waterfalls in the spring, fed by melting winter snow. But by late summer, most of them run dry. Black swifts are smart enough to only pick waterfalls that will protect and cool their chicks all the way until the end of summer. And those can only be fed by glaciers and persistent snowfields, which this park has a lot of. Amy: [in the studio with Peri] We have realized that this-they love Glacier National Park. There are more nests here than in the rest of the state combined, that we know of. Peri: But as temperatures warm with climate change, the sources of these waterfalls, those glaciers and snowfields are declining. Peri: [in the studio with Amy] Because I guess you could see the swifts as a bit of a canary in the coal mine. And as you say, like the waterfalls or where they are, they can't move up in elevation, but also they feed on insects. And so as insects decline, like, that's even more invisible. Amy: Yeah. And I think you're totally nailed it because part of the interest in studying black swifts isn't just that they do have a unique place that we just didn't know about them, but they totally share a decline with other aerial insectivores and the jury's kind of out on exactly what issues are happening…[Amy fades out under narration] Peri: This is one of the biggest motivations for their studies in Glacier, trying to figure out what the population is like and how worried they need to be. Amy: And it also helps us know like, oh, maybe we don't need to hit the panic button either right away. There is a lot of great habitat in Montana, and it could be that we have a lot more of these birds than we thought. Peri: But all of Amy's work can still only go so far. Amy: We can also learn only what we can learn in Montana. We don't know anything that these birds are encountering on their migration or on their wintering grounds. Peri: And even with ten years of data from Glacier and efforts in Colorado and Idaho, we still know remarkably little about these birds compared with almost every other species I might see on a morning walk. It makes me wonder what else I'm missing. Amy: If a tree falls in the forest and you don't hear it right, like what happens? [pensive synth music fades in] And then so it's like if a black swift disappears from a waterfall, but we never know they were ever at the waterfall. To me, there's something really interesting that's lost in that. [mellow synth music gets louder] Peri: Still hiding out from the rain, talking with Amy in the car, I've pretty much lost all hope of seeing a swift today. Maybe of ever seeing one. I feel like the thunderstorm is an embodiment of climate change and all the threats these little birds are facing looming over all of us. As the park's glaciers retreat and disappear, people notice and they care. But does it matter if a bird that I might never see disappears? Can you love something you've never seen? [music continues] Peri: [in the field] All right. It's 6:38 now. The storm has abated. [car drives by] [birds singing] There are a lot more cars now. I'm still seeing no swifts, but... so you would normally survey until 7:15. [car drives by] We have another like half hour. So do you think you see any swifts? Daniel Lombardi: I mean, there is like a smudge back there that could be something, but it's not moving and… Peri: Right. I see a smudge, but I don't see… Technician: I’ll put on the data sheet, smudge on nest. [group chuckles] Daniel: Yeah. Amy: I'm pretty sure this is a bird. It's a bird. There's a bird. Peri: There's a bird. But I'll take a look on the scope and see if I can see anything of what I just thought was a blob. Daniel: Was it a smudge or a blob? Peri: A “smob”? [Daniel and Peri chuckle] Peri: It’s tucked away back in this little nook. And I can see a white blob above the smudge. See, I thought I saw it move, but now I'm second guessing myself. [cars drive by] Maybe I'm just moving. Oh. Oh, I see the, yeah, I see the tail. Oh, my God. It's huge. Okay. I thought it was going to be a tiny little bird, but it's huge. Amy: It's big. Peri: Oh! [Daniel laughs] Amy: Kind of crazy because you're like, this doesn’t- Peri: I was looking for, like, a tiny little swallow sized bird. Peri: Oh! it moved its head. It's very exciting. Peri: [narration] Thousands of people drive on the road past this nest site every day and would never know these birds are living their lives here. I've driven past this site dozens and dozens of times. But now I'll look for them every time I drive past. Peri: [in the field] You can see it so well now. You see its eyeball and see its little wings cross over its tail. It's looking at me. Daniel: It's in a really small space. [cars drive by] Peri: Yeah. It's like it's wrapped up in its little sleeping bag of moss and rock. Peri: [narration] That black swift perched underneath a waterfall, peering back at me from its damp ledge felt like a glimpse into a whole part of Glacier that usually hides out of sight. Peri: [in the field] It has black, shiny wings and black feathers, and I can see a little tiny bit of white on the front of its face and a big black eyeball kind of looking at me. So it's like a little bit of light, but mostly dark, which was also our experience in this survey. They do a whole lot of things in the dark, and mostly we can't really see them during the day and most of their lives are in the dark. But we're learning a little bit more each year and each survey. Peri: [in the studio with Amy] In all these years, what do you think you've learned from black swifts? Amy: I think the biggest personal change that I've seen has been sort of a minor one, but I've realized that it actually does run quite deeply into life, and it's that I really am more comfortable at night being a nocturnal person, walking around in the dark. Even in my own house or in the creepy basement [Peri laughs] or in other people's creepy basements. I think it's really impacted my comfort level with, you know, trusting yourself and all your intuitions and when fear is real and when it's not real. And I think people really do have so much more than we let on to stuff because I've gone to things like in the night and then gone back to the place and like noticed that I'm walking right by the same exact rock or something. And I'm like, I mean, I tried to go the same direction, but my body has some kind of memory, like from like, how did myself take myself to this exact place? Honestly, just operating more comfortably with less light has been a very liberating feeling. I don't know if we learn it as fear is from movies or what it is when you're little and you do have that fear of the dark thing. Peri: It's very primal. I mean, we spend so much time trying to light up the darkness, whether it's our car headlights or our, you know, turning the lights on in our houses or even leaving our porch lights on all night. Amy: It's just oddly satisfying. You know, like this just makes life easier when you take off a layer of worrying. Peri: I like that, though. It's not like you go out there and try to make the dark more light. You can just become more comfortable in the dark. Amy: Yeah, absolutely. Peri: One thing you said earlier was like, these birds love Glacier so much. And I don't know, I kind of got me thinking like, does Glacier love these birds back? And there's like, I think that there's so much effort going into studying them. It kind of makes me maybe say yes now. [Peri chuckles] Amy: I think so. I think Glacier and the Conservancy has supported the effort seriously over the years, and to me that's just really cool because that is I mean, these birds are impacting a greater landscape, but they need Glacier to nest and survive and reproduce to, you know, keep having black swifts. And then I think the community of people love that because when people are here, they're totally enjoying nature and then hopefully passing that down. I mean, as Montana Audubon too, we are advocates for conservation and it really does take knowing and caring about something to advocate for, especially if it's a policy decision that will impact climate change or something like that. You do have to know the birds. Peri: [narration] I guess I'm still not sure if you can truly love something you don't know. [haunting violin fades in] But now I've seen a black swift and I think we bonded. And I know I don't want to lose them. Peri: [in the field] How does it feel? Amy: They’re still there and that really makes me happy. Actually, to your question of how does it make you feel, when you see them again after ten years, I don't know why, but I still get so excited and I do love them. Amy: [in the studio with Peri] When we were lucky enough to see that nest today, you get that small little bit of just ultra excitement that they're still there and just knowing that they're there, even though you don't see them all the time, it's just like, gosh, this whole life's happening and we have no idea and that made me brought a lot of joy here. Peri: We've learned a lot about these birds, but can we ever know very much or will-will they always kind of be a mystery to us? Amy: That type of thing is so interesting to me. And I think just because we can't exist in their habitat comfortably for much longer than a few hours, I think there is definitely going to always be the part that is just too dark for us to see. [music builds, then fades to play softly under the credits] Peri: Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links and our show notes. Special thanks this episode to Amy Seamen and the whole black swift team. Montana Audubon, Lisa Bate and Kaile Kimbell for all the pickles. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Jan 9, 2024 · 29 min

    Art, Science, and Alpine Potatoes

    The cutest animal in Glacier may be at risk of disappearing, but it's hard to study an animal that lives under rocks, high in the mountains. How can we understand the hidden parts of the world around us? Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Michael Faist: [to Lucas and Alyssa] Do either of you have a particularly good pika impression? Alyssa Quinn: Lucas does. Lucas Moyer-Horner: I do. I can give it a try. "Eep! Eep!" Eh. Kind of like that. The thing is, there's different "eep" dialects. Michael: [to Lucas] How interesting. Lucas: Even within the park, sometimes you'll hear one that sounds like it has a hoarse voice and or one that you sort of assume must be a really young one, because it has a really kind of a meek and high pitched eep. And then others are pretty strong eeps. But but they're all eeps. They're not whistles like the rodents do. Michael: Pikas are the cutest animals in Glacier National Park. No contest. Lucas: Pikas are lagamorphs. So the order group of mammals that they belong to called lagamorphs includes rabbits and hares. Pikas are about the size of a Idaho potato, classically, is how folks like to describe them, and it fits well. Michael: They're like little fuzzy Idaho potatoes. I mean, even their poops are cute. Lucas: Pikas’ poop is the only one that is almost a perfect little sphere and pretty much the size of a peppercorn. So if you see tiny little peppercorns, that's for sure going to be like poop. Michael: [to Lucas] I've heard people joking about using old pepper grinders as they're like a collection container. Lucas: Seems dangerous. [both laughing] Michael: This is Lucas. Lucas: My name is Lucas Moyer-Horner. I'm an instructor with the University of Utah, and I'm also a pika researcher. Michael: And Alyssa Quinn. Alyssa: You can call me Alyssa. I am a writer of primarily fiction, and I am currently an assistant professor of creative writing at Kenyon College. Michael: The two of them have spent a lot of time in the mountains looking for pika this summer, and they're also a couple. Lucas: The very first time we met was me giving a bear safety talk, and Alyssa was in the audience. Alyssa: Yeah, and I thought he gave a very good bear talk, like the best bear talk I had heard. So I was like, I need to get to know this guy. Michael: [to Alyssa] Bear talks can be convincing. Life-saving advice. Alyssa: He gives a very calm bear talk, which was reassuring. [both laughing] Michael: Lucas and Alyssa came here this summer because of a mystery. Pika might be in big trouble. If you search for them online, you'll see headlines like this: "pikas disappearing from parts of the West;" "the world's cutest mammal on the brink;" and "the American fur ball being threatened by a warming climate." But if you search for pikas in the mountains here, I'm not quite sure what you'll find. That's why Lucas and Alyssa are here, to help us learn more about what's happening to pika in Glacier. [theme music begins to play] But I wanted to talk to them because they argue science alone isn't enough to understand pika or the threats they face. And so, if not science, what else could help us? [Headwaters theme music plays, with flutes and drums, as pika "eep" sounds play] Michael: You're listening to Headwaters, a show about Glacier National Park and how it connects to everything else. I'm Michael. In this episode, we're exploring how science and storytelling can shed light on the American pika. And my guides are Lucas and Alyssa. Lucas: I think that one hike we did where we walked through some talus was the only time I tried to find a hay pile. And I was lucky enough to find one. Alyssa: Yeah, we saw two... We saw two pikas together, which was a very rare occurrence. Yeah, that was exciting. So, yeah, they just flock to you now. Michael: As you'll hear, Lucas and Alyssa come to a love of Pika from different spheres of the brain. Lucas's lens is science, while Alyssa brings the mind of a writer. For a few months this summer before work pulled Alyssa elsewhere, she helped Lucas conduct pika surveys. [to Alyssa] Was this your first time surveying pikas this summer with Lucas? Alyssa: Yes, it was. Michael: [to Alyssa] How'd you like it? Alyssa: It's very fun. It's very hard work. It's.... Yeah, I definitely was a blob, I slowly de-blobbed over the course of the summer, but now I'm back to blob-ifying again until next summer. The... It's exhausting because you hike these sometimes very massive peaks, and that's fun. You get to the top. It's gorgeous. You're excited, you've hit the peak, you're kind of ready to turn around and head for home, but instead you have to spend multiple hours up there doing the survey. And that can be really strenuous, too, because you're clambering over these giant boulders up and down, up and down, and trying to keep track of where you've been. Michael: Our story starts back in 2007, when Lucas, then a PhD student, led the first large scale pika study in Glacier. Lucas: Our extent of our research is the entire park. So the 1 million acre Glacier National Park is where the surveys take place, and we try to cover as many different patches as we possibly can. Michael: That word "talus" describes a hillside of loose rocks and boulders, and are the only places that pika live. Lucas: Basically, they can only be found where there are piles of big rocks. They use the spaces between those rocks as a refuge from extreme temperatures, whether it's too hot, too cold. And they also can use those areas to escape from potential predators. Michael: So the first step is to identify where this talus or pika habitat is even found. Lucas: Yeah, I think I've probably covered around two thirds-ish of the park. That's been one of the ongoing efforts was to get up high on ridges and peaks to try to look and see where talus occurs in the park. Michael: Once they know where the talus is, they'll visit each patch and look for pika. Lucas: And we're looking for any signs of a pika. So that could be seeing a pika, hearing a pika finding a pika's hay pile, or finding pika scat. Alyssa: We sometimes go by the Pika Poop Patrol because we are also collecting pika poop. Michael: Pika poop is currently being used by other researchers studying pika genetics to see how different pika populations are connected to one another. It's not Lucas's project, but he and Alyssa are helping out. Alyssa: Yeah. How many Ziploc gallons of books are full of poop now? In the cabin? Lucas: In the cabin? I think we're up to four. Michael: That's four gallon sized bags of peppercorn sized poops. Lucas: Conveniently pikas, they're active during the day, so we can survey for them during the day and be more likely to see them and hear them. And they also are solitary and defend their territory from other pikas. So that means if you find if you see a pika, you know that there's not going to be another pika within about a ten meter radius of that pika. Michael: This summer, 15 years later, he's surveying the same spots all over again to monitor how they're doing and see how pika populations have changed over time. Lucas: So we'll go to the GPS location where this survey started 15 years ago, and then we'll attempt to survey the same part of the patch that they did. Hopefully the entire patch. Michael: Alyssa has experienced this work firsthand in the field, and she's also created some of her own written work based off of Lucas's research. Like a poem titled Ochotonidae, the Latin name of pika. Alyssa: So the poem is a cut up poem, which is a poem that takes an existing text, in this case, I took Lucas's paper "Predictors of current and long term patterns of abundance of American pikas across a leading edge protected area." Catchy title. Lucas: Thank you. [laughing] Alyssa: You're welcome. I took that article and I cut out a bunch of pieces of language from it and then rearranged those pieces to form a new poem. And I allowed myself to change capitalization and punctuation. But no, no language. Michael: The poem spans several pages, many of which look like Alyssa took white out to most of Lucas's paper. The few scattered words left behind tell their own story. Alyssa: His is longer. [all laugh] Mine has a lot of whitespace. There's small phrases, words and phrases sort of pasted across the page, separated by large gaps. Michael: We asked if she'd read an excerpt for us. Alyssa: Here we go. [subtle synth music plays] "We acknowledge that scale and size are efforts to avoid division by zero, to minimize the error of man made structures, julian date, observer bias, train tracks. And finally, we acknowledge that our ability to identify patterns has been extremely null, especially in centuries made of days." Michael: This isn't the only piece Alyssa has written about pika, and she'll read a short story for us later in the episode. Michael: [to Lucas] Lucas, are you much of a writer? Lucas: No. As you can tell from the title of the paper that they used. [all laughing] Michael: The two of them approach this topic from such different vantage points, but each helps the other see their own work in a new light. Alyssa: It's the absolute best thing in the world to have him around and to have his very different perspective sort of constantly there. There are times when he'll sort of drop a piece of knowledge that he has that I'm like, "You knew this thing all along and you haven't told this to me yet?!" Like this amazing sort of biological factoid that you have just been sitting on for years. Lucas: It's exciting. It's like new perspectives on life and interactions and networks, and it can kind of sort of reinvigorate my interest in my own investigations and science that I'm doing, think about things in new ways, and I think that can help your science be better science. As a scientist who part of my work is looking at the effects of climate change, and it can sometimes seem like, you know, you're writing your notes in your diary as the Titanic is going down. About, you know, just how big the hole is and what caused it and all these things. Art has opportunity to be much more impactful. Michael: Alyssa and Lucas are both driven by a concern for pika, as these little potato shaped animals grapple with climate change. And each of them approach their work with scale in mind, knowing that their results, whether in research or creative writing, are driven by the scope of their project. Lucas: And so, you know, it really depends on how much you're zooming in or out, what it is you're observing, and what types of questions you're asking. Michael: Alyssa mentioned this specifically with her cut up poem. Alyssa: One reason I wanted to try this was to think about what it might-- since I'm interested in scales of space and time, so what happens when you zoom really far out or really far in? And so I wanted to try doing that to a paper. What would a zoomed out version of this paper look like? Michael: So to understand the threat climate change poses to pika, I wanted to start with the big picture. We know what pika are, but what are their lives look like? [to Lucas] On a social level, Why do you think pika are so endearing to people? Lucas: Why are pikas so cute? You know, humans seem to really like baby animals, and I feel like pikas, when they're fully grown adults, still seem like they're little babies. So that's [laughing] that's my analysis. And they're mammals, so they're fluffy. Alyssa: I think people also like this image that they are hard working. They work all summer to collect this hay and to store it. Um, and that seems industrious to us. It seems like they they really, you know, deserve to survive the winter if they work that hard. I think it's easy to kind of attach that-- that meaning onto them as well. Michael: That industriousness Alyssa mentioned? They have to do so much work gathering hay all summer because they don't hibernate over the winter, like so many other mammals here. Lucas: They are going to stay awake and survive in other ways during the winter, unlike rodents who love to just sleep, you know, two thirds of their lives, which is a pretty cool approach too. Pikas, since they can't hibernate, have to collect food to make it through the winter. And so that's what a haypile -- that's the primary purpose of a haypile is they'll collect vegetation, store it, usually under a sort of a big airy rock where it can dry out, and then presumably just hang out underneath the snow, which is really good insulation, and eat their haypile during the winter. Michael: [to Lucas] Yeah. One way I've heard it described as an analogy to try to communicate how much food pika are setting aside is that if they were as big as we were, they would be collecting the equivalent of several school buses worth of food every year. Lucas: Right. Michael: If you see pika frolicking through rocky hillsides, it's usually because they're collecting plants to eat or trying to pillage their neighbors hay piles, despite the fact that they're related to most of their neighbors. If you hear them make their telltale "eep," it's a predator response. Lucas: So I mentioned, you know, the kindly pika neighbor that warns they're cousins and mom and dad and other relatives that live nearby by eeping. But the problem with eeping is that that alerts the predator to your individual presence. So you're really endangering yourself by warning your neighbors. So a pretty altruistic move. But there's been studies where people have introduced like images and stuffed predators to see how pikas respond. And most often the one predator that they did not eep in the presence of was the weasel. Michael: [to Lucas] Hmm. Lucas: And so the thought there is that weasels are such good predators on pikas that it's not worth eeping, because it's going to get you. [bpth laugh] Michael: But besides being cute, busy, and altruistic pika are known for being extremely sensitive to heat. Lucas: Yeah, pikas just can't handle getting warmed up very well. The thought then is well, pikas will avoid being active above the rocks when it's hot outside because it'll cause them to overheat. And if that is the case for much of the summer, then they might not be able to collect enough vegetation to survive the winter under the talus for their haypile. Michael: Around the time of Lucas's first study, researchers observed pika elsewhere in the U.S. were disappearing at lower, warmer elevations. Lucas: And so that was one of the initial kind of alarm bells saying, hey, perhaps there's some impacts here of temperature on pikas. Michael: [to Lucas] So pika have a really limited ability to thermoregulate like we can sweat when we're hot, dogs can pant, but pikas have to live in an environment that can keep them cool. So higher elevations or staying under the rocks when it's hot outside. And changes to the temperature outside could affect where they're actually able to live, right? Lucas: Yes. Alyssa: I would add that they are considered ecosystem sentinels, meaning that they can sort of indicate the status of an ecosystem affected by climate change. Temperatures get above a certain level, I think, lucas It might be 68 degrees? Lucas: Yeah. Alyssa: A pika is going to begin to experience physiological stress. And also if it gets too cold in the winter due to, for instance, a decreased snowpack in the mountains caused by climate change, then the pikas don't have enough insulation when they're under the rocks. And so they can also die of cold. And so thinking of pikas as ecosystem sentinels, it's been interesting for me because that means that they're not only an animal to study, they are like a metric, like mercury in a thermometer. And so they're a way of reading an environment as well. Michael: I've always thought of science as a tool of illumination. Lucas's research is like turning the light on in a dark room by taking a census of pikas in Glacier. He'll reveal how they're doing, shining a light on the big picture. But when you zoom in and look closely, there are still places that light doesn't reach. [synth beat begins to play] Alyssa: It's pretty easy to begin to forget what your object of study is. I mean, you're engaged in these sort of daily routines of surveying and, you know, looking for these signs and following these procedures. And at least I found myself, like, forgetting that there is an actual sort of living being somewhere on the end of of this data. Michael: From a professional academic distance, the consequences of pika decline can feel abstract. Reading scientific papers that quantify their demise, my first thought is that one day I might not be able to see them anymore. Not the difficult reality of what happens to a pika who can't take the heat. Alyssa: And so, yeah, I do hope that that is something that art can bring to the table. [synth beat finishes playing] Michael: Alyssa channeled these thoughts into a short story called Detection Probability, which I asked her to read for us. Alyssa: All right. Detection Probability. The day before they declare their love, he takes her up a mountain. They are looking for Ochotona princeps, the American pika, which he conducted research on years ago, before his grant ran out and his postdoc ended and he took the job here, teaching section after section of freshman biology. She wants to see a pika very badly, because she is in that stage of the relationship where she is hungry to lay claim on all that happened to him before she entered his life, desperate to be able to imagine his life in all its distant invisible weaving, right up until the point it crisscrossed her own. She is twenty-nine and he is thirty-three and she thinks of the many years they existed on this earth simultaneously but without each other, traveling their untouching paths. It is difficult to give reality to his life before her, difficult to infuse it with solidity. The other night, in bed, she flipped through an entire photo album while he poured her bourbon and fed her spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream and she said, Who is this? Where is this? What year is this? Now, on the mountain, he says: “Look in the shady spaces under rocks. And keep an eye out for hay piles.” They climb over talus in the sun. They are at an elevation of 8,000 feet, on a south-facing slope in the American west. Near them but out of sight are several ground squirrels, one hoary marmot, a black rosy finch, two Clark’s nutcrackers, 300,000 worker ants, fifty-seven miller moths, thirteen checkerspot butterflies, and one wary wolverine. Also nearby but out of sight are several hundred pieces of colored microplastic, a floppy hat lost long ago, an oxidized Coca Cola can, and a rotting map of the region, its pages waterlogged and warped so the contour lines ripple up in waves, rising like topography, like some ragged paper range. “I can’t see anything,” she says. Tonight, after coming down the mountain and driving through the summer dark back to town, they will lie next to each other in his bed and each will want to say the words—I love you—but they won’t. Each will want to say it but instead they’ll lie in silence trying to imagine what the other one is thinking. They’ll steal glances at each other, struck suddenly by the other’s opacity. Who is this person lying naked next to them? Who is this stranger? Is there a mouth behind those lips, are there eyes behind those lids, are there organs below the skin of this stomach? And they will feel suddenly that the months they’ve known each other are nothing, nothing at all, that this person still remains dark and impenetrable as the interior of a mountain. And they will fall asleep this way and dream strange dreams which in the morning they will pretend they have forgotten. All of this will happen but not yet. “I can’t see anything,” she says. “I’ve seen them here before,” he says. The pika they are looking for is in fact on the far side of the mountain, three thousand feet higher up. The sun is hot, hot, hot these days and the alpine air is thin and ragged with the heat. The pikas are migrating higher and higher to survive. He knows this is the case elsewhere but for some reason he doesn’t think about it happening here. They continue looking under the same rocks. Three thousand feet above them, a pika carries a mouthful of vegetation back to its hay pile, which lies drying in the sun. A stockpile for winter. When temperatures drop, the pika will burrow underground to be insulated by snow, emerging only to retrieve its secret hay. But this year the winter will be warm. There will be very little snow, and the paradox of this is that there will not be enough insulation to protect the pika. Huddled underground it will grow still, then even stiller, then turn to a corpse from the cold. The hay will go soggy in the warm and early spring, will begin its years of slow decay. All of this will happen but not yet. “We might be too low down,” he admits. He’s explained to her about pikas’ sensitivity to climate, their migration to higher elevations. The problem, he said, is that mountains are cone shaped. The higher up you go, the less space you have. She imagined all the plants and animals of the alpine ecosystem being drawn upward as if by a magnet, growing increasingly condensed, until they reached the peak and ran out of room. She imagined them clustered there at the top, tangled up in each other, fur and leaf and blossom and wing, and then she imagined them lifting off the mountain, rising up off the earth, streaming into the air and away. A kite string of flora and fauna, floating higher and higher, piercing the atmosphere, scattering into space. “I’m sorry we didn’t see any,” she says as they climb back into the car and head for home. “Next time,” he says. The sun is sinking in an orange flare. “Tell me again about your summer of research,” she says. He tells her. She tries to imagine it. The sun sets and now it is night. Alyssa: This is fiction, just so everyone knows. Michael: [to Alyssa] Okay. [all laughing] Alyssa: This is clearly not us at all. [synth beat plays to mark a transition] Michael: We often turn to art to see the world from a new perspective. And Alyssa's story challenges common thinking that the best way to comprehend something is from a bird's eye view -- at an almost impersonal distance. But by blending the fates of pika and the people studying them, Alyssa closes that gap. Alyssa: The real shared thread is the limits of knowledge. Whether we're trying to know another person, or trying to know a nonhuman species who hides beneath rocks. We are always limited in our ability to know the other, and we have to rely on imagination to know anyone or anything. And so the characters in this piece, they are unable to access the pika because climate change is messing things up. And so it's not that the world doesn't quite work the way that they've learned it works, and they are also, to an extent, unable to access each other even as they are falling in love. There is this perpetual distance that they are aware of and trying to crack open, and that that sort of dark center that lies at the core of of all things essentially is the connection between the two. Michael: Science tells me often and in painful detail about waves of heat crashing around the pikas' shrinking mountain islands. Despite that, the pikas' suffering is invisible to me. I hear them eep as I hike up the mountain. And maybe someday I won't anymore. Alyssa's story lingers on moments that research often seems to ignore. Describing the suffering felt by pika that's implied by these studies, but that's easier to look away from -- applying what we've learned through research to a story that's personal, intimate, even. In the end, Lucas and Alyssa suggest that truly understanding what's in store for Glacier's pika, or reckoning with the impact of climate change on any living thing, demands searching for the story beyond your experience -- asking how the big picture is felt on a small scale, and using science and creativity in tandem. Alyssa: It's been said by many people that the climate crisis is in part a crisis of the imagination. We lack the capacity to think long term. We lack the capacity even to think to next week, let alone decades from now. So again, these questions of scale that we are not particularly good at conceptualizing. And so I think that literature and hopefully, you know, innovative literature, literature that's trying new things, can help us to strengthen those imaginative capacities. I don't want to put too much on the back of literature. [chuckles] That's a lot to do to save the world. I think there's other smaller things that it does, too, such as just articulating the griefs that a lot of us are feeling right now. [somber synth music begins to play] Navigating a world where we see so many things we love falling away and just giving voice to that experience, I think is also a valuable task that that fiction can accomplish. [synth beat continues to play] Peri Sasnett: Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our show notes. Special thanks this episode to Lucas Moyer-Horner and Alyssa Quinn, along with Kylie Caesar and the Crown of the Continent Research Learning Center, for introducing us to their work. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Dec 19, 2023 · 31 min

    Surviving a Near-Death Fall in a National Park

    Morgan Bell spent 10 seasons working on Glacier’s trail crews—one of the toughest and most demanding jobs in the park. Until a single day—a single step—changed everything. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Gaby Eseverri: Note: this episode deals with an intense accident in Glacier. Please take care while you're listening. Morgan: I remember this distinct feeling of getting off that hitch, and having that weekend to myself, and just being completely content with life. I remember that moment of just like, Oh, I'm so happy and I feel so good with where I am and who I am right now. Gaby: So what happened on the walk back? Morgan: I was on an incline, and when you walk on an incline and snow, you kind of like lean in: kick, kick, kick, dig, kick, kick, kick, dig. So I had kicked into the snow, that there was enough where I had kicked in and exposed it that I actually kicked in to ice. And I stepped on it, and it just took me out immediately. Gaby: You fell. Morgan: I did. Gaby: You fell off the Highline. Morgan: I began to slide. Yes, I fell off the Highline. Gaby: Every community—a high school, a workplace, a national park— has its set of stories: local legends, colorful rumors and cautionary tales told in hushed whispers. They come and go, as people do, but I think some of these stories are etched into the fabric of these places. When I moved to Glacier last year, I started to learn the stories and characters of my new community from the stories we've told on Headwaters, to the old locally-famous characters I see referenced everywhere. Like Joe Cosley, the notorious park ranger and poacher. Or Josephine Doody, the moonshine mogul. One of these stories is that a trail crew employee once fell from the highline trail onto Going to the Sun Road and lived. It's almost beyond belief. And it felt a little taboo to know this about one of my neighbors. To know what happened, but not know them. Music: [somber flute music starting] Gaby: To know what felt like their secret, but not their telling of it. This year, I became friends with that person. And I quickly realized that they don't see it as a secret. This story that I saw as a dark piece of their past was something that they brought light to. And in doing so, brought light to so much more. You're listening to Headwaters, I'm Gaby. This is a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. In this episode, we talk about how one event can change a life. This is a story of Morgan Bell's relationship with Glacier: a career on trail crew, and how a single day, a single step, changed everything. Gaby: Do you get the sense that you'll go down in park history? Park lore? Morgan: I think, with such a substantial experience and story of survival, yes. I think my name will be associated with this place for a very long time. My name is Morgan Bell. I am a concession management specialist here at Glacier National Park, and I have been employed here for 22 years. Gaby: What brought you to Glacier then? What brought you to Montana? Morgan: I had received a letter from Glacier National Park in the mail advertising positions for trail maintenance. Gaby: Had you ever been to Glacier? Morgan: I had never been to Glacier. In all honesty, I had never even heard of Glacier National Park. Gaby: [laughing] Okay, cool. So when you came out here at 22 to work trails, this place sort of represented adventure. Morgan: Yeah, it really set a stage for me to be my own person. It was my first time on my own. Gaby: 22. Yeah. So what was working trails like here when you started? Morgan: It was super intense. It was exposing, not only to the elements, but emotionally, you know, like personal level exposing—of being embodied in the woods with strangers for six months. Gaby: And you're physically doing a lot of work because you're clearing trails? Morgan: Yeah. Gaby: Yeah. What does that actually mean? And what are you actually doing? Morgan: It consists of typically a season that runs from April to October. And you, primarily in the spring, are focusing on clearing downed trees that would have fallen through winter storms. Gaby: Okay. So to get them ready for visitors. Morgan: Yeah, yeah, for hiking. So we'd go out and clear trails with chainsaws, sometimes crosscuts. Clean all of the drains so that water can move off of the trail. We build structures so all of the bridges that you cross across creeks and rivers. Gaby: So it's taking a lot of you physically to be able to do all of that. Morgan: Physically and then mentally. I mean, you're put into the wilderness and working hard and building relationships. But it really laid the foundation and gave me a glimpse into my, like my ability of self, what I could and couldn't do. It was a really strengthening period for me. Gaby: So tell me about this culture of trails. Morgan: There's a lot of pride in it. There's a lot of ownership and there's a lot of longevity. Gaby: If you're a newbie, it's like, Are you going to stick around? Morgan: Are you going to stick around? Gaby: Yeah. Are you going to be a, what do you trail people call themselves, trail dogs? Morgan: Trail dogs. Gaby: Okay. [laughing] Morgan: Yeah. Yeah, trail dogs. It's a right to become a trail dog. You have to work for it. It's a sense of pride to become one. Yeah. To become part of the pack. There was an authenticity to the relationships that you could build with individuals in such extreme environments. It was a community that provided instantaneous support. It was a wave of, like, experiences with each other. Gaby: Hmm. Morgan: We have ten days where it just pours rain on us. Gaby: Everyone's unhappy. Everyone's miserable. Morgan: Everyone's unhappy. Yeah. Yeah. But that somehow connected us, and we still got the job done. We still had fun. We still made our meals together. Yeah. Gaby: So you moved here when you're 22, you started trails. Morgan: Mm hmm. Gaby: At some point, you became crew lead. Morgan: Yeah. So typically, each crew, depending on the district, is made up of anywhere from 4 to 6 individuals. My crew that year was myself (the crew lead), and then I had a maintenance worker, and I had two laborers. I had a lot of, I was very excited and had a lot of pride to be a trail lead. Gaby: How old were you when that happened? Morgan: 32. I really started to see how Glacier had shaped me into the individual that I was becoming. I can hike a trail, like I can in my mind, I can envision a trail without being on it because I've been on it so many times. Gaby: That makes me think of knowing our homes in such an intimate way. Morgan: Mm hmm. Gaby: And so these trails are sort of. Yeah, like a home. Morgan: It is home. It is home. You know, I have a favorite tree. I have a favorite rock. Gaby: Aww. Both: [laughing] Morgan: And I have memories built in certain areas right? There's like, those keynote moments that are kind of ingrained in my being. I became very integrated with Glacier. I identified with it. There's an intimacy of how I connected with Glacier. My literal blood, sweat and tears were put into the ground. Gaby: From working trails. Morgan: From working trails. Trails exposed me to the deepest parts of myself. It built a level of strength and identity within me to understand myself. That was like a level of intimacy. Who would I be as an individual if I wasn't shaped. Gaby: By trails. By trails. It solidified that this was where I was supposed to be. I'm all about universal signs. [laughs] And there was a moment before I came to work here. I was working in a physical therapy office at the front desk. And there was a calendar that I had, and one of the photographs I really admired. And so once the month had passed, I tore that page out and stuck it on my wall and would just look at it. Fast forward, and I'm standing at the top of Logan Pass, and I look around and I was like, [gasp], this is that picture. And so that was a pivotal moment for me where I was just like, This is where I'm supposed to be. Gaby: Logan Pass is the highest place you can drive to in Glacier, home to the highline trail. The highline is cut steeply into the mountainside, and parallels Going to the Sun road for several miles. When I hiked the trail, I was surrounded by beargrass and other colorful wildflowers in bloom, and I was sweating as the warm summer breeze hugged me. When Morgan and her crew were there on that day in 2012, it was still spring: gloomy and snowy, and her cheeks were pink from the cold mountain air. She was there to get the trail open, clearing it of snow and debris to get it ready for the thousands of eager boots that hike the highline every summer. This is no easy task on any trail. But now imagine one with drop offs so steep that it feels like every butterfly in the world made its way to your stomach. As if that weren't enough. Out of snow and ice to the mix. Morgan: The morning had started, July 3rd, 2012, but it was raining and it was like a low cloud cover. Definitely still spring-summer in the high country. Historically, trail crew is responsible for blasting snowfields on trails of high use. So we walked out, got to our destination—the last snow field we needed to assess—and then we geared up and begun our walk back to the trailhead. One of my trail members was in front of me. I was second in line in the group of five, and him and I were just chatting up a storm. We were just like having a really good conversation. And we had crossed a number of snow fields by this point and we had approached our last one that we needed to cross. I got pretty far across it, and I could see there's seasonal water. This part, section of the trail, seasonal water flows. What had happened is that water had froze, and created like an ice layer. I was on an incline and when you walk on an incline in snow, you kind of like lean in, kick it, kick, dig, kick, kick, kick, dig. So I had kicked into the snow. But there was enough where I had kicked in and exposed it that I actually kicked in to ice. And I stepped on it, and it just took me out immediately. It was fast. Like, it wasn't like a "whoopsie" slip, it was like a slip. Hit the ground. Start sliding. Gaby: You're still on snow and ice. Morgan: I'm traveling, still on snow and ice. Yes. And I was crossing, the snow had kind of collected in a couloir of sorts, or like a you know, a natural chute that had been created through this water feature. Gaby: Okay. Morgan: So snow ran from the trail all the way to the road. It's not fluffy, It's not soft. It's not playful. It's icy, hard-packed, compacted snow. Very. Gaby: Rough. Morgan: Rough and hard. Gaby: And if anything, it's only making you slide faster. Morgan: Faster. Yeah. And the slope of which I was sliding was also steep. I hit the snow immediately, and began to slide. And I recall when I first fell, I was on my back and I was going headfirst, downhill. I attempted to self arrest with the hand tool I had, which was a shovel. So it's a method of putting it across your body and trying to dig it in and use it as a break. I didn't have crampons or an ice axe. That wasn't something that we typically carried with us. I was able to like, spin myself around with my shovel, and then I was feet first going down, trying to break. Gaby: So now you're seeing. Morgan: Now I'm seeing. Gaby: The ground. Morgan: The ground and where I'm going. But I'm like laying on my back still and trying to use my shovel. At some point, my shovel was ripped out of my hand. And I lost it. And I remember in that pivotal moment, it was so fast, but everything was like so slow in that moment. And I remember just being very aware of what was happening, but extremely like, methodical in my actions. So once I lost my shovel. I flip myself back onto my stomach. And so now I'm traveling. Feet first on my belly. And my only attempt to slow myself down was to expand. So I put my arms out, starfish, essentially. Put my arms out really far. Began to dig in with my hands and my nails. My feet started to, like, kind of really push my toes into the snow. I remember, like the sensation of my face dragging on the snow, and the sound of it, the speed of it. Music: [low, dramatic bass music starts in the background] Morgan: And like the snow that I was gripping and moving across, like flying around me. And like, screaming, it was incredibly loud. Really, really intense, primal fear, like loss of control and completely terrified. What my crew members experienced as well is that they heard me yell, I can't stop. Gaby: So they're hearing you while they're still standing on the highline? Morgan: Yes. And they're watching me. They can see me sliding down. At a certain point, they lost sight of me and didn't know what the outcome was, but knew that I had made it to the road because from the highline they could see the road itself, but they could see vehicles going around. Gaby: Something. Morgan: Something. Gaby: On a slippery patch of hard snow and ice. Morgan slid 350 feet from the highline. That's more than the entire height of the Statue of Liberty. Then she free fell another 12 feet onto unforgiving pavement. Onto Going to the sun Road. Morgan: I remember a majority of the slide and at some point I lost consciousness, on the snow field. And I came to on the road. I don't know the duration after I fell, like if it was seconds, minutes. I remember like being on all fours, you know, on my belly and just kind of like lifting my head and seeing blood everywhere, like pooled up on the on the road and all over my face. I was like, Oh, my gosh, okay, I'm on the road. And at that very moment, it was like these little black shoes came running up and came within my view. And I was almost like in Child's Pose, hunkered down, and this individual was saying to me, like, are you okay? Where did you come from? I don't know how clear I was in communicating, but I recall saying I fell from the highline. I'm trail crew. I was on the highline. I slid. I recall laying down instantly, feeling a lot of pressure in my head. Intense pressure in my head, in my face. Just holding my head. Music: [music fades, shifting to background flute music] Morgan: And I recall people coming in. So visitor service assistants from Logan Pass came down to assist. They started performing an assessment on me of my injuries and stabilizing me, you know, my C spine and everything like that. The individual who had come upon me on the road was actually a registered nurse from Billings. From what I understand, Rangers got on site and Alert—which is an emergency helicopter—was called, and took off immediately to come LifeFlight me to the hospital. And so I was put on a board and put in the back of the shuttle bus and transported to Big Bend. And once Alert was on site, they put me in an induced coma and got me in the plane or in the helicopter, and we took off. Music: [dramatic flute concludes] Morgan: I would never be who I was again. Even with complete healing, I would always be different. It would never be the same. That trails would never be the same, that my life and my activities and my existence as I knew it would never be the same. Gaby: Do you remember waking up in the hospital? Morgan: Mmhmm. Gaby: Was it where you confused or. Morgan: No, I was incredibly ashamed. I remember my supervisor, who I have great admiration for. He was there in the room. They got the call that I had woken up. I was in the ICU, and the first thing I said was I'm sorry. [laugh] I remember him just being like, will you stop it? You know? Like, why are you apologizing to me? Like, no apology is necessary. I felt embarrassed. I felt ashamed. I felt that I had let the team down through my actions. Because I understood the consequences of what had happened not only to me but to the program as well. Gaby: In the days following the park, halted all trail crew operations while they investigated the accident. For the next season, there were new safety guidelines in place for snow travel. And every year since, trail crew does mandatory snow and ice safety training where they practice using ice axes and crampons, and setting up fall protection. Morgan's accident changed the trails program and the culture of snow safety throughout the entire park. Heads up. Morgan is about to describe her injuries. If you're not interested in listening to the details, you can skip ahead 2 minutes. Gaby: So when you woke up at the hospital, what were the physical injuries? Morgan: Starting from the top, traumatic brain injury. Music: [low base music starts playing in the background] Morgan: So I had had a swelling of the brain. So to stop that, what they had done is shaved my hair, just the top portion of my scalp, front portion, and created a laceration from my right ear to the apex of my head. Gaby: Like, they cut that open. Morgan: They cut that open well and essentially peeled back down and drilled three holes into my skull, which alleviated the pressure of the fluid building up inside of there. While they did that, I had also sustained multiple fractures to my face. And one of the more sustainable fractures that I had was completely shattering my forehead. So they went in and pieced it together with metal pieces that ironically are called Dog Bones. I broke my nose. I lost my front tooth, chipped it. I had multiple lacerations on my face, the most extreme being my upper lip, which had been torn off and my cervical area and neck. I had,uh, bilateral dissected carotid arteries, which essentially is the bands around my carotid arteries had exploded. I then had a right dislocated shoulder and a lacerated liver. So majority of the injuries were head and neck. Every single one of them was life threatening. Gaby: Did you feel like you looked different? Like it was a different person that you were looking at after the accident? Morgan: Yeah. And that was really hard to look at myself. Really hard to look at myself after the accident. [emotionally] A lot of like, sadness for what I had done. It was just hard. It was hard to like, I don't feel myself as vain, but it's hard to look at yourself with, in a different context, when something on your face changes or on your body change. Essentially a stranger. The shell of me had changed. I had identified with myself for so long as someone in the mirror meant to be looking and seeing the holes in my head and the scar on my forehead. Music: [flute music comes in in the background] Morgan: And the abnormal angle of my nose and the shift of my eyes and all of it. The missing tooth, the shaved head. Gaby: So there is this reckoning that you're going through with identity. Morgan: There was a reckoning of the identity not only like physically, but a reckoning of the loss of my identity of self and who I presented myself as. What I did. Gaby: Yeah. Morgan: Who I was. It was wiped clean in one fall. Music: [flute music concludes] Morgan: This loss of self and identity, and my former relationship with Glacier, for a very long time challenged me and put me in very dark places. You know, depression came naturally with it. I get covered by the darkness, and there's times that I can let it put me on the ground and be at the depths of it. Ultimately. There's an essence of my being that shines brighter. Gaby: Did the fall at any point feel like it defined Glacier for you? Like you were sort of avoidant of this place because it was too intense, to go to Logan Pass, or too intense to go through the entrance station? Morgan: Never. Gaby: Never. Morgan: No. I'd be remiss to say that it wasn't. Moments of anxiety driving up the road and approaching the shoot. Music: [background synth music begins] I know that none of this occurred out of vengeance, that I did something wrong to deserve this. I was eager to come back and connect, such an integral part of my being. It was a loss. I was grieving. I was grieving Glacier. I was grieving that I wasn't able to immerse myself in it. And that I had to be home. There was nothing I wanted more than to be here. This place means a lot to me, and I care immensely for every square inch of it. And so, I have apologized to Glacier. We've come to an understanding together that that wasn't intentional. I have a direct line of sight of the garden wall from the foot of Lake McDonald. And while you can't see the exact location that I fell, it's still the general area. And I have allowed the wind to carry my words up valley. And I have allowed the wall's words to carry down to me. I honor it. Dubbed the chute, like, "Oh, shoot." [laughs] Gaby: Oh, chute. Morgan: Yeah, "Oh chute!" Gaby: That's what you call it when you go by it? Morgan: Yeah. You know, I. Yesterday I drove the road and I said hi to it as I passed it. I spotted it I was like, Oh, there it is. Gaby: Oh, chute. Morgan: The Oh, chute. And I don't pass it and associate it with the memories of falling. It's just like, wow, there is that pivotal point. The memories of the fall [sniffle] aren't associated with it anymore. Gaby: I don't think anyone would have blamed Morgan if she decided to leave this place after experiencing what she did. For all its beauty, Glacier has seen some truly horrible things: Morgan's accident, and so many others. This place has stories that I will never really know, or for that matter, understand. Maybe all places and communities do. But I think Morgan is right that to really know a place, a community, means honoring that darkness. Music: [music fades out] Morgan: There's not a conversation where it's like, me without Glacier. It has been such an integral part of my life for two decades on so many levels. It's where I have worked. It's where I've experienced loss. It's where I fell in love. It's where I raised my daughters. It's where I have some of my closest relationships and life memories embodied. It is here. Music: [swelling string music begins] Morgan: The epitome of a trail dog is like strength and tenacity. You know, and I was exemplifying that like tenfold by surviving. It was just the circumstances,. Gaby: Right.It was ice. Morgan: It was ice. It was an accident. Gaby: It was an accident. Morgan: Yeah. I sometimes ponder with the idea of like, was it intentional? Did it have to be me and did I get to survive? For the purpose of what I am now. It was supposed to be me. So it's it's really curious. Like, where would I be? Gaby: Yeah. Morgan: Where would I be without this experience? Where would I be without this place? So I appreciate you guys. Thank you very much for letting me share my story. Gaby: Well, we love you. Morgan: I love you guys, too. Thank you so much. Music: [Dramatic music swells, and plays out under the credits] Peri Sasnett: Headwaters has a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our shownotes. Special thanks this episode to Morgan Bell for sharing her story so candidly and gracefully. We also appreciate Duncan Lennon and Cameron Aveson for all of their insight into the trails program. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Dec 5, 2023 · 33 min

    Living Seasonally: Advice from a Lifelong Ranger

    We sit down with Chuck Cameron, a lifelong Glacier Ranger, to learn about his incredible and unusual career. Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Michael Faist: Have you ever met somebody for the first time, introduced yourself and had a nice conversation only to walk away and immediately forget their name? I have. It feels like one of the great shared human experiences to have that guilty conversation with yourself. Was it John? Jim? Shoot. Which makes it all the more surprising when you meet someone who seems to be immune to that phenomenon. Someone like Chuck Cameron. Chuck Cameron: My name is Chuck Cameron. [squirrel chirping loudly] There's a squirrel. Gaby Eseverri: [laughing] There's a little squirrel. Michael: [in the field] All right. One more time without the squirrel [laughing]. Chuck: Yeah, without the squirrel. [clearing throat] My name is Chuck Cameron, and I'm a wilderness ranger here in Glacier. Michael: Chuck has been a ranger in Glacier longer than I've been alive, and he's a bit of a local legend. Even so, after meeting me once for 30 seconds at a party during my first season here, he remembered my name months later, shook my hand and was happy to see me. Which felt nice because I'd heard Chuck's name a lot. He's the sort of person that everyone you meet knows and loves, and the incredible stories you hear about them don't seem to line up with the calm and mild-mannered person you've met. But while Chuck has led a long and storied career here in Glacier, the most surprising part of that career is that the park terminates him, every fall. Well, kind of. A common question we get from visitors is what does it take to be a park ranger? And while there is no one answer to that question, as there's no one type of park ranger, a good answer is you've got to be willing to move every six months. Ninety five percent of Glaciers visitors come between May and October. So it makes sense that the park doesn't really need most of its staff in the wintertime. So to find a career in the NPS, a lot of people move across the country every six months, bouncing between summer and winter jobs. My friend just told me last week he's moved 48 times. And for most, the ultimate goal is to land one of the few competitive permanent positions in the Park Service. I've always seen that as the path to an NPS career. But it wasn't Chuck's. Michael: [in the field] And how long have you worked here in Glacier? Chuck: This is my 42nd season. Gaby: 42nd? Chuck: Yeah. Gaby: Woah! That's a lot of seasons. I'm on-I'm on season two [laughing]. Chuck: You-You only have 40 to go, and we'll be the same [Chuck, Michael and Gaby laughing]. Michael: Chuck's been a seasonal his whole career. One of the few people I've met in Glacier who can say that. [theme music fades in] I wanted to sit down with him because I think his unusual path says a lot about the unusual job that is working for the National Park Service. Equal parts, delightful and stressful, noble, yet often bizarre. But I also think that few people could have had the career that Chuck has. And I want to know how he did it. [theme music plays, with the strumming of a string instrument, a flute, and drumbeats]. Michael: You're listening to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park connects with everything else. I'm Michael. [music fades] And today I invited lifelong Glacier Ranger Chuck Cameron over for dinner. Michael: [in the field] [laughter] Yeah, let's go to the porch. Michael: Chuck's a laid back guy, very tall, the warm smile, and he's easy to get along with. You can tell just by looking at him. He showed up to dinner wearing an aloha shirt cooler in hand,. Michael: [in the field] [someone cracks open a canned beverage] Serve yourself, we've got pulled pork and coleslaw sandwiches. Michael: The plan my fellow producer, Gaby, and I came up with was to sit around the campfire with Chuck and share stories. But unfortunately, a much larger fire had just started a—wildfire seven miles away, so we were under a strict burn ban. No campfires. So instead, I made pulled pork sandwiches and we settled down on a porch with a view. Chuck: Thank you. That was delicious. Michael: [in the field] You're Wilderness Ranger now. What was the first job you had here in the park? Chuck: I worked on the trail crew as a Laborer in Many Glacier in 1982. Michael: Was that the first time you ever came to the park? Chuck: The first time I'd ever been to Montana. Michael: Woah. Gaby: Really? From where? Chuck: Well, I worked actually at Rocky Mountain National Park in 1980 and 81, right out of college. But I was looking at the map, and I saw Glacier National Park, and I like the sound of the name. It just sounded cool. And it was in Montana, and I'd never been here. So I threw in an application and they called me up and offered me a trail crew job. Michael: There are 745.9 miles of trail in Glacier, and each year the park hires 50 to 60 people across 12 different crews to maintain all that mileage. They clear dead and downed trees, brush the trails to minimize how much thimble berry and thistle you have to walk through, dig drains to move water off and make steps. Honestly, they do a lot of work that often goes unnoticed. Chuck: I liked being out for ten days at a time with the same people, and you build this sort of bond with this crew you’re on because you're working, cooking, eating, sleeping in all kinds of weather for ten straight days and you learn to rely on each other a bunch. It's just a really unique work situation, I think. You know, I never really thought like everybody working at JC Penney, like hung out after work and cook-went home and cook dinner together. Gaby: Shared the same room. Chuck: Share the same room, or slept the same tent or… Gaby: Yeah. Michael: During his time on trail crew, Chuck worked on a lot of trails, but he highlighted one especially odd project. Chuck: Uh, I think the most craziest season I had on trail crew, we cut the International Boundary Swath in 1987 and [someone in the background says “wow] I was a crew leader on the east side and it hadn't been dealt with in 20 years. Michael: Glacier’s northern boundary is the U.S.–Canada border, and since the 1860s there has been a swath, a gap through the trees to mark where it is. Chuck: It marks the international boundary and it's has monuments, steel obelisk monuments spaced out the entire 5,000 mile international boundary. Michael: To keep trees and brush from filling in the swath, it's needed periodic maintenance in 150 years it's been here. Chuck: And it's a 20-foot-wide swath cleared of all vegetation, so you can see from monument to monument, basically. Yeah, we spent 80 days, ten-day hitches at a time doing nothing but clearing the boundary. Michael: [in the field] Jeez. Gaby: Wow. Michael: So Chuck and his crew were cutting it out by hand in the late eighties. But I'd heard a rumor that in the sixties, someone decided to use Agent Orange to clear the swath. The infamous ingredient used in napalm. Michael: [in the field] …said at one point, they used Agent Orange to clear the boundary swath. Chuck: They did, that's what they had done the time before we cut it by hand. They defoliated it from the air, which wasn't very accurate. And so the boundary swath was this like snaking thing through the. And so our job was to straighten it out and so we surveyed it as we went from monument to monument. Michael: You're redrawing the line. Chuck: Redrawing the line, yeah. Peri Sasnett: That’s a lot of responsibility. Chuck: Well, it was and it was kind of nutty because sometimes the swath was just going through the forest. There was no like, cut. It was just point A to point B. [someone laughs in background] We just up the side of one mound and down the side of the, you know, [someone in background days “wow] and we went around beaver ponds. We handed tools up cliff bands, you know, five-gallon cans of gas up through these cliffs, you know, [someone chuckles and someone says “wow” in background] to get to the next bench and keep going. Michael: Because normally trail crews working on trails requires a lot more thought and care into where the trail is placed than many people realize, and so the boundary swath is kind of atypical. It's like, yeah, straight ahead- Gaby: Straight across. Chuck: Yeah, our-our slogan, and we made a T-shirt, was, uh, “total destruction is the only solution,” [lots of laughter] [bass line fades in] which is it's a line from a Bob Marley song about nuclear war, and that's kind of how we felt about it. [bass line continues and fades] Michael: But like all seasonal jobs, Chuck's season on trail crew came to an end. Every fall, you've got to find something else to do. This is when a lot of folks crisscross the country to work in warmer southern parks. But those jobs are few and far between and pretty competitive. It's not really a sustainable solution for most people. Michael: [in the field] But, uh, what did you-what do you spend your winters doing? How did you string together the other six months of the year? Chuck: That worked out. I was really lucky in that regard because I got a job on Big Mountain, and I worked on the ski patrol there for 26 years. Michael: Big Mountain is home to Whitefish Ski Resort, less than an hour from Glacier. Chuck: Ski season and this season fit together extremely well, and about the time I'd get sick [clears throat] of ski patrol and in April they'd lay me off and I'd get to come here and do something completely different. And then about, you know, late September, I get sick of working here, [laughter] and they'd lay me off here and I'd have a couple of months off in the fall to go do whatever, and then I'd go back skiing again. Michael: Ski patrol in the winter, trail crew in the summer. And Chuck’s season cutting the border swath highlights that a lot of work in Glacier is extremely physical. Gaby: So was this your-was this year hardest hitch? Chuck: Yeah, that was my-I felt invincible at the end of that summer. Gaby: I bet. Chuck: I thought, if I can do this, I can do anything. Gaby: Yeah. Chuck: So then I quit trails and got a Ranger job. [everyone laughing] Basically. Gaby: That’s-I mean that's cool a way to go out from trail crew. Chuck: Yeah. Gaby: Yeah. Michael: After his summer on the border swath, Chuck got a job as a Law Enforcement Ranger. He went to Law Enforcement Academy with one of his trail crew friends. And after that, got a job in the Belly River, a remote part of the northeast corner of Glacier. Chuck: And I worked for a guy named Dave Shea, who was an incredible wealth of knowledge, a scientist just, you know, knows everything about everything. And, yeah, a great guy to work for. My first year in there, so that was awesome. He started here in ‘67, I think, or something. Michael: [in the field] Was that intimidating? Like to have your first Ranger job kind of… with him? Chuck: No, it was great. He's so humble and just so knowledgeable and not afraid to share knowledge. You know, like, he would just take me out and show me all these things. And Belly River, the old wagon roads, the old cabin sites, the tracking and birds and just... Yeah, he-he's amazing. And he just took me under his wing, and I spent the whole summer with him. Michael: This is the sort of job I feel like most people picture when they imagine being a park ranger. Chuck: You know, we patrolled every day because that's why you're there. You know, we were up one valley or the other… into the campgrounds, talking to all the visitors, checking permits, um, digging out fire rings, cleaning pit toilets, just making sure everything's still working. Michael: [Chuck’s voice fades out in the background] If you want to learn more about life as the Belly River Ranger, we interviewed Lora Funk, who has that job now, in our last episode. We'll have a link in the show notes. Lora learned from Chuck, and Chuck picked up the tools of the trade from his mentor that first summer. Chuck: It was great. And then unfortunately, at the end of that summer in 1988, we're sitting around in the behind the ranger station having dinner, and he said, “I just want to tell everybody this is ViVi’s and my’s last summer here.” And I'm just like, what? I just got here, you-you can't leave. You know, this is my first year. I want to keep working. You know, I was going to plan on working with him for a long time. It was good for me. I got the Lead Ranger job in there, you know, and spent the next nine years in there. But it was hard for me to adjust from being trail crew, you know, the kind of the renegades of the Park Service, right? You're kind of out there, out of uniform, doing whatever, digging in the dirt and, you know, and then to a Law Enforcement Ranger. Michael [in the field]: Yeah. Chuck: Wearing a uniform. Michael: In the uniform, in the campgrounds. Chuck: You know, people come to the Ranger Station when they're in trouble or need something, and so the typical day can be very atypical very quickly if somebody shows up at 8:00 at night. Michael: And to hear Chuck tell it, there was a bit of a learning curve to becoming this new type of ranger. Chuck: I was hiking back down from Helen Lake, I think, and I got to the foot of Elizabeth and there was a beargrass flower in the trail, the whole stalk and the flower. And I thought, mmm, that's kind of weird. And I just walked by it. And then there was another one. And then another one and another one, and I'm like, this is not natural. So I started picking them up and I had this huge bouquet of bear grass flower stalks in my arms. I don't know that I could have carried 150, but I had 100 on my bed in my arms. [laughter] Michael: Following the trail of beargrass flowers, Chuck found a Boy Scout troop at the nearby campground. Gaby: You've had the entire trail time to just get angrier and stew... Chuck: Every one I picked up. [laughter] Michael: A lot of work on trail crew is physical, but working with the public, keeping people in the park safe, can require a lot of empathy and patience. Chuck's known for his people skills today, but all skills take practice. Chuck: So I walked in there and I'm holding these things and I didn't handle it very well because I was taking it personally, which is a huge mistake when you're a law enforcement ranger. You cannot-I learned that this was a good lesson for me then. Don't take it personally. It's not about you. It's about, you know, education, and, you know, I've learned that. But then I'm like, does anybody know what these are? And this kid looks at me, he goes, yeah, that's bear grass. I said, yeah, and it used to be alive till all you guys killed it all. And I look over [someone says “uh-oh”] and this kid is got his jackknife out and he's carving his initials in the bench he was sitting on in the campground, and I'm like, can you knock it off? [laughter] Can you quit doing that? And he looks at his buddy and he goes, I don't think he likes us. [group erupts in laughter] Very astute. Michael: For ripping up 150 beargrass flowers, the troop leader got a $50 fine. Chuck's the first to say that he took that incident personally because he cares about the park and the Belly River. He was essentially its caretaker after all. Chuck: We saw some great northern lights over the years…the stars, the full moon. You know, it's just, it's magical sometimes. It really is. Yeah. Never got tired of it. Gaby: It feels like kind of like romantic. Do you remember it that way? Did it feel that way or was it sort of tougher and rougher than-than what we imagine? Chuck: I think the anticipation was always really great. It's just like, wow, you know, first trip up to Elizabeth Lake or up to Helen or wherever you were going and knowing nobody'd been in there maybe since October. You know, stuff like that just made it really adventurous. Gaby: Yeah Chuck: What I liked about it, you know. Michael: But despite all the things that kept Chuck there for nine summers, he couldn't stay in the Belly forever. Michael: [in the field] All this to say what pulled you out of the Belly? Chuck: [chuckles] Life. [bird sings] So I was in there-I left there in ‘96, but I got married in ‘94. I had bought land in-in ’89, and by that time in the mid-nineties, I was starting to try to build a house and my wife got pregnant. And so I was in Belly River with a pregnant wife trying to build a house outside of Whitefish, and it just wasn't working out that well. [bird continues to chirp] Michael: For context, the Belly River Ranger Station is a three-hour drive and six-mile hike from Whitefish. Chuck: It was too hard to do that, and so, um, I decided to leave after the summer of ‘96 and work on the house, and our son was born in January of ’97 [bass line fades in], but my wife and I climbed Mount Merritt while she was pregnant with our son. Gaby: Wow. Chuck: So that was pretty cool. [laughs] Michael: That's unbelievable. Chuck: Yeah, I have a really good picture of us sitting on the summit of Mount Merritt. Michael: Now that he was closer to home, Chuck moved on to another position: bear crew. [baseline fades out] Gaby: What was the bear team? Chuck: Our job was to default to wildlife calls in the McDonald district. Michael: And there are no shortage of these types of calls. Each year, there are hundreds, some years, nearly a thousand bear related incidents in the park. That's everything from bears causing traffic jams on roads to more serious incidents, like getting into improperly stored food. Chuck: You know, the bears get all the press, but we did all kinds of wildlife stuff. Goats and sheep and marmots and skunks and bats and, you know, anything that anybody was having an issue with wildlife, the bear team would get to go deal with it. Michael: [in the field] Do you have any memorable, like specific wildlife encounters from that time? Chuck: Uh, yeah, lots. Well, one of the funniest ones, if you want to hear a funny one, was the auto shop called one day and said, we have a marmot in our auto shop over here. Michael: If you don't know marmots are big squirrels. Montana's version of the groundhog. Chuck: And this marmot had crawled up into the engine well of one of the road crew trucks and ridden all the way down from Logan Pass and ended up in the auto shop. And like, okay, I'm on the bear team. We'll go get this marmot. So it was in their breakroom over there, and they had it trapped in the break room and it was behind the refrigerator. Well, so I had a live trap and I thought, okay, we'll pull the fridge out and put the trap down and the marmot will step in it like they should, and it'll all be done. Well, the marmot had no interest in leaving the back of the refrigerator, [laughter] so we pulled the refrigerator and I was kind of leaned up on top of it, sort of poking down there with a stick, trying to get this marmot out of there. But he had gone in under the compressor of the refrigerator like there was no back on it down by the floor and he'd gone way up in there. He or she. Gave the trap to this guy, and I put on leather gloves and I reached in there and I grabbed this marmot by the hind legs [shocked laughter] and I started to pull him out from under the refrigerator, but this marmot grabbed the refrigerator with his front feet and he would not let go. [group erupting in laughter] And he's squealing like crazy, making some god awful noise, and so I'm yanking this marmot. Finally he lets go and I just stuffed him in this life traps and slammed the door and oh my god… Michael: Did you drive it back to Logan? Chuck: We let him go at Packers Roost. I'm not going all the way up there. You're just going to climb in another engine. [group erupts in laughter] Unbelievable. Marmots are strong. I don't know if you know that, but marmots are really strong. Michael: So far, Chuck's career has focused on, among other things, physical work and people skills. Bear crew required getting to know the park's wildlife up close and personal. Michael: [in the field] So did you-was it in college or in Law Enforcement Academy when you learned how to wrestle a skunk or leg talk down an aggressive bear? How did you learn how to do this? Chuck: Trial and error. [laughter] Never gonna do that again. Um, I don't know. You just, you get thrust into it and you just sort of do it, you know, figure it out. I wasn't afraid to ask questions. You know, if we had something like that, I needed to talk to the biologist about, I would certainly go talk to the biologist about what you think we should be doing here. But I didn't go to school for wildlife biology or anything. I have a liberal arts degree, so I wasn't college training by any means. It was on the job training basically my entire career. Michael: Finally, I wanted to ask Chuck about climbing. He has a shout out in the “Climbers Guide to Glacier National Park,” which is essentially the local mountaineering Bible. Michael: [in the field] When did you-when did you climb everything? Because it seems like you climbed a lot. [laughter] Chuck: I tried to climb every peak in the Belly and I didn't quite get there, but yeah, well, when you're in there nine years, you have a lot of time to climb, right? [laughter] Uh, actually my boss in there told me that if you don't climb up Mount Cleveland this summer, you're fired. Michael: Mount Cleveland is the tallest peak in Glacier, and it's been the site of some infamous accidents. Chuck: Uh, he said that visitors are climbing these mountains. They're going to get hurt or disappear. You need to know the routes. You need to know where they're going. So you need to get out there and start climbing all these peaks. I said, great, I'll do that. Michael: Chuck has a lot of funny stories from his time in the park, but there were a lot of serious days too. Thanks to his knowledge of climbing routes and the park landscape. Chuck started helping with search and rescues, and he was good at it. Good enough that the park asked him to get certified as a helicopter manager, and he's been helping with search and rescues on the ground and in the air ever since. Gaby: Had you had interest in going into search and rescue or was it sort of just like a function of being Law Enforcement in a national park? Chuck: No, I like it. It's uh, it's a really interesting part of my job. I really-I enjoy it. So, no, it was more than willing… [audio fades under Michael] Michael: Unfortunately, search and rescues happen every year here in Glacier. In the last three years, there have been over 200. And they're not just climbing accidents. Folks get lost on trail, and are reported missing by friends and family. Others wind up in trouble from exposure to heat or the cold. Gaby: When you worked search and rescue, what were the outcomes that you expected, especially when there is like those low percentages of…finding…? Chuck: It's based on time. Time, right? How long is this person been out there and what was their plan? If we even knew what their plan was. Michael: Searches often include huge teams of people covering all the places that person might have been. Chuck: People can survive for pretty extended periods of time, and based on the weather, what kind of shape they’re in, they have any food with them. But if they fall 500 feet off a cliff, they're not going to survive. And so if you can search an area really thoroughly, day one, you know, everybody's like, we're going to get this person. Day two, we're going to get this person. Day three, they're still viable. You know, we know this person can still be alive. Once you get six, seven, eight, ten, nine, 15 days down the road and it's like, this person's probably not alive anymore. You never want to feel that way. You know, you always want to know that they're still alive, you can find them. Drives you crazy when you can't, you know, It's like, where are they? They still could be alive. Now, where are they? Michael: [in the field] I came across an incident that the guy, he was trying to get to Longbow Lake in the North Fork. Chuck: Oh, yeah. Michael: Oh, you knew who he was? Chuck: I found him. [laughs] He was a baker at the Polebridge Mercantile, and he went on a hike to Longbow Lake and never came back. And so we started looking for him, and we had ground teams, and uh, Longbow is above Akokala, off trail. We had a helicopter in the air. Michael: Chuck was actually assigned to a ground team with the subject's nephew. Chuck: And they sent us up on the ground up this creek drainage. Oh my God, it was a horrendous bushwhacking. And we were just beating the bush, going up this creek and yelling this guy's name. And we're out there yelling, yelling, yelling, thinking, you know, he's not out here. This is stupid. And then we hear all of a sudden, we hear a voice up in the woods. And I’m like, did you-I looked at this guy. Can't remember the kid's name. Did you hear that? He goes, yeah. So we start yelling. He goes, Dan, Dan. And we hear this voice. Yeah. Holy crap. [laughter] And so we bushwhack our way up to where we heard this voice and there he is. And he has this huge gash in his head. He'd been out 48 hours maybe at that point, um, had no recollection of what happened to him. Um, It appeared to me he fell off a cliff or something from his head trauma. Once we found him, I think everything that was keeping him going left. He was just like, I'm rescued now. I'm just like, done. And anyway, we're in the middle of this lodgepole thicket, basically, an alder thicket. And I was like, okay, now what are we going to do? Michael: The trees were so dense they couldn't lower a litter for the guy down through the trees, let alone land. So instead, Chuck asked for chainsaws. Chuck: So anyway, they flew us in a couple of chainsaws, and we spent like 2 hours cutting a landing zone out of the woods right in the middle, wherever. 40-, 50-foot diameter hole out of the woods, maybe in a couple of hours and we brushed it all down. Michael: This allowed the helicopter to land and take the guy to the nearest hospital. Chuck: And he went he ended up in the hospital for like 11 days. He had a brain bleed. Yeah, he had a major issue going on. He wasn't going to make it, maybe another day, but… Michael: [in the field] But he made it. Chuck: He made it. He’s alive and well. Michael: Chuck's colleagues are quick to say that he's the kind of person you want involved in a search and rescue because he cares so much, even if the result is ultimately to give a family closure. And thanks to folks like Chuck, most search and rescues in Glacier end like this. Maybe someone's a little banged up, but they're alive. Out of the over 200 that have happened here in the last three years, 96% of the people have survived. Michael: That must’ve felt pretty good. Chuck: It felt great. Found one alive. Saved him. Yeah, it was awesome. But I did miss the Willie Willie Nelson concert on Big Mountain that night, though, [group laughs] which I had tickets to. Gaby: You saved a life but you also missed Willie Nelson. Chuck: Missed Willie Nelson on Big Mountain. Michael: Through all of the search and rescues, the bear jams and stubborn marmots, Chuck stayed seasonal. Chuck: Made it easy for me. I didn't have to move. I built a house. I had a family going, but I didn't have to find a job. I didn't have to think about what I was going to do at the end of the season, which is really stressful. And I live that life for a while on trail crew, and it gets old, you know, you got to pack, you got to go find a place to live, you got to find a job. And it's stressful and it drives people out of being seasonal in the Park Service, I think. But for me it was easy because I never had to move. I just drive east in the summer and north in the winter, you know, from my house, and it was no big deal. Michael: And while he dodged the difficulty of moving every six months by settling down in Whitefish, moving isn't the only hard part about these jobs. Seasonal positions usually don't provide full benefits. They don't come with a retirement plan. Each year you come back, more of your friends move on, off to another park. And there's a limit to how high you can climb the career ladder as a seasonal. Gaby: We talk about seasonal turnover and like how hard seasonal life can actually be. And so why-why stay through it all? Chuck: Uh, I don't know. You know, I've never really been a… I'm content a lot. I'm not necessarily the grass is greener over there kind of person. I've never even applied to another park, ever since I started working here. Michael: It's worth noting Chuck has support and stability at home. His wife has a year-round job in fire communication, but at work Chuck points out that as you move up the ladder, you can lose a lot of the duties that drew you to the job in the first place. Chuck: Yeah, I like being in the field. You get a permanent job here and not all of them, but in the ranger division, if you go permanent, you're going to be pushing paper a lot more than you are when you're not permanent. Michael: Of the rangers I've known who are long time seasonals, all of them had a permanent career on the side. Teachers and professors who have the summer off, or even a lawyer who can choose their own caseload. All of them found some way to squeeze in being a seasonal ranger. All of them except Chuck. Chuck: I tell people I made a career out of not having a career. [group laughs] Basically. I wouldn't trade it for anything, though. No regrets. You know, there are some great permanent jobs here, don't get me wrong, but there's just the way overloaded people working here and it's just-you see it, you know? And I just never wanted to try that. Michael: [in the field] Yeah. Michael: But I'd say if Chuck has a secret to how he stayed seasonal so long, it's how much he loves this place. And all of it too. The scenery, the wildlife, the plants and the people. Chuck: I just like it here. I just like the whole persona of what Glacier is. Always have, from the minute I got here. And don't get me wrong, I've had some bad days here. You know, there's been some days where I'm just like, oh, man, I got to get out of here. You know, but that just doesn't last long, you know? Yeah. We owe it to the park to take good care of it and do the best we can. I really firmly believe that. And so whether it's small world stuff or big world stuff, and there's big world stuff going on like climate change and all that. My world is very small world. You know, I pull weeds. You know, I clean out fire rings. I pick up trash. I educate visitors, that's a huge part of it, super important part. Building advocates for the Park Service. If I can get somebody to, like, buy into the idea of the Park Service and advocating for it, you know, success. Michael: [in the field] I think that is a nice segway into the rumors I've been hearing about this maybe being your last season. Is that true? Chuck: It is true. It's not a rumor. I'm wrapping it up. Michael: It's not called retiring when you're seasonal. What is it called? Chuck: Quitting. [group erupts into laughter] They’re going to try and hire me back and I get to say no. Michael: Chuck loves Glacier, and it's clear Glacier loves him right back. He invited us to his retirement party, which happened a couple of months after our interview, and we arrived to find every parking spot full. Cars lining the road to the venue and people from every stage of his career who'd shown up to celebrate. Here are just a few of the nice things they had to say about him. He's humble. He hates leading. But everybody looks up to him. He's trusted. [haunting violin music fades in] He spends more nights out camping in the park than his colleagues half his age. He's a mentor, a moral compass, and he never forgets a name. And over and over again. We're going to miss him. Chuck's career captures what it's like to work for the Park Service, and he's been a role model for a lot of the people who work here today. Our last question for him, what comes next? Chuck: You know, I've been stuck in the Glacier rut for so long, I've never even been to the Cabinet Mountains. You know, um, there are all kinds of little mountain ranges around Montana, we got like 54 state parks. I've only been to, like three of them. I just want to do go look around and see what else is out there, you know, and maybe just have the time to do it and feel like doing it. Gaby: I guess on the still-on the same question of reflection, was your career everything that you expected or... Chuck: I don't know that I had any expectations. I think it was just this new adventure to Montana. [laughter] You know, you just go check it out, see what happens. Yeah. [music builds, then fades to play softly under the credits] Peri: Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our show notes. Special thanks to Chuck Cameron and everyone who shared memories or stories of Chuck at his very fun retirement party. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.

  • Nov 21, 2023 · 29 min

    Can Ranger Traditions Survive into the Future?

    We meet a ranger who lives in one of the wildest corners of Glacier—a place where age-old tools and skills are still practiced daily. But do traditional skills, or this way of life, still have a place in a rapidly-evolving world? Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett. Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/ --- TRANSCRIPT: --- Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is brought to you by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. Peri Sasnett: Picture a National Park Service Ranger station. What does it look like? Maybe a big log cabin with a mossy pitched roof and a creaky screen door? Glacier does have plenty of those, but my office is in park headquarters, which has some strong mid-century middle school energy. And working here, I'm always happening upon obsolete relics of bygone eras. Handwritten memos, ink stamps, a fax machine... I haven't found a typewriter yet, but I wouldn't be surprised to find one lurking in a drawer. Only a few decades ago, people in this building used those things all the time. But like a lot of people, many rangers' jobs have changed pretty dramatically in the last 40 years. Mine definitely has. But in this episode, we're spending a day with a ranger whose office equipment and duties haven't changed much at all in 40—or even 100—years. Lora Funk: Can you drag this dead goat out of the waterfall? That's a weird one. The marmot's living in the toilet again! Peri: Meet Wilderness Ranger Lora Funk. She has long, sandy blonde braids and bright blue eyes. She wears the park uniform with a little mud on her boots, and she loves to laugh at the absurdities of life in the backcountry. I immediately want to be her friend. Lora: My laundry is a bucket with a metal plunger that people call an Alaska Maytag, and I think it gets the clothes cleaner... But I don't think people necessarily think my clothes are clean. [laughs] Peri: Alongside her colleagues, General and Tank—both horses—and Ellen the mule, Lora helps steward and patrol the Belly River Valley of the park. Lora: Yeah if someone were to say, like, picture a historic ranger station and a iconic valley... It's Belly River. Peri: One of her favorite things about the Belly is that there are no roads. So unlike the rest of Glacier's Ranger Stations, you can't drive here. Lora: The Belly River Ranger Station is located six miles into Glacier's wilderness. [sounds of horse footsteps in the background] You either have to hike in or ride a pony. Peri: I interviewed Lora in the ranger station, but also while she lugged gear around and rode a horse, who occasionally took an interest in my microphone. Lora: Would you like to be interviewed, General? Hello. Hello. [loud snuffling and sniffing sounds] He went for it! [another loud sniff] Is he going to eat it? Michael Faist: Just sniffin. Lora: We have two rangers, myself and Alison, the commission ranger. There's a trail crew which varies in size 2 to 4, and we have three had a stock, and that makes up our entire staff. Peri: The Belly River Ranger station is a brown log cabin—a Park Service specialty—with white window frames and a flagpole out front. It sits between a creek and a wide open meadow where the horses graze and its covered porch faces west towards steep sided, rocky peaks. It's a very traditional scene, and so is life out here. Lora: So I live off grid. I live in a one room cabin there with a propane stove. And we do get running water for a few months of the season. Otherwise, we have to haul our water from the creek. I do not have a bathroom connected to my house. I have to walk through the outhouse. Yeah I mean, you start to lose track of time and age and everything out here. Some of that kind of stuff fades away because then you're like, is it 2020 or is it 1920? There's elk running around and there's a fence that looks just about the same... I'm reading books and hauling my water from the creek. Peri: When I tell my friends I work for the Park Service, I think this might be what they picture. But in a lot of ways, the agency is looking to the future—trying to modernize our infrastructure, lower our carbon emissions. And tell our stories differently. Parks have podcast now, for example. It seems like a vestige of the past to come to the Belly and see Lora still riding horses, packing gear on mules and living in the backcountry. And honestly, I wonder how long this way of life this type of ranger can last. But I know I want to experience it before it's too late. Music: [Headwaters theme begins playing; starting with mandolin, then a drumbeat, a flute line, and other instruments layer in before the music finishes] Peri: I'm Peri, and you're listening to Headwaters, a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. And today, I'm tagging along for a day in the life with the person who might have the coolest job in the park. Lora: All right. Today, we've got the horses, the mule, saddled, and we're going to head out. Take care of ranger business. Peri: Today's "ranger business" is going up toward Helen Lake to pick up and pack out some leftover supplies. Michael and I walk in front of the stock while Lora rides, since apparently they prefer to follow us. Lora: Come on, keep up with the humans. Keep up with the humans. Peri: Apparently, horses have abandonment issues. So even though we didn't really need both Tank and General, everyone came along for the ride. [drumbeat of music plays] Lora: [talking to the stock] All right. How does everyone feel today? [clinking of tack and gear] Okay. Good. Good. Yep. Peri: For most park staff, our ranger business is pretty specific: giving a campfire program, studying plants, managing the park's budget, making a podcast. But for Lora, almost anything could be her ranger business on a given day. Lora: I am, like, I'm a wilderness ranger and I am specially trained on the Wilderness Act and wilderness values and character. But in the end, my day to day is a lot of general ranger duties, whether it's bear management, EMS maintenance, pulling weeds. Peri: There are specialists for each of these things: bear biologists, search and rescue, trail crew, invasive plant crew. But Lora and other rangers like her pitch in to keep things going day to day. Lora: Well, it takes a whole team to manage Glacier. That's why we have the experts. And so I'll call them in if we have something major. I can fix a toilet, but if the whole outhouse goes down, I gotta call trail crew. [drumbeat playing] A lot of people talk about the quote, "Jack of all trades, master of none." But the full quote is "Jack of all trades, master of none. Better something than nothing done." And that's kind of what I live by out here. Peri: And this is much the same as the ranger business that rangers have been doing in the Belly River for decades. Take this entry from an old log book in 1994. Chuck Cameron: September 14th, 1994. Patrol with Bob on stock to Elizabeth Lake head to deliver additional gear and supplies to the trail crew. Dug out the firepit and replaced the campground map with an updated version. Also pulled another handful of hawkweed. Chuck Cameron. Peri: Every day when Lora gets back from the field, she writes down the day's activities and events In a big green government issued logbook. She and her predecessors have been doing this since the earliest days of the ranger station here. From Chuck 30 years ago to some of the earliest Belly River Rangers back to 1929. Joe Heims: June 5th, 1929. Station to Red Gab Pass and return. Distance 16 miles, mounted. Object: cleaning trail and looking over trail conditions. Game seen: one mountain goat, two deer, one elk. Weather clear. Temperature 41 degrees at 7 a.m. Joe Heims. Peri: But these days, this type of work is becoming more and more rare. Even this ranger station used to be staffed in the winter, but hasn't been for a long time. Lora: Spots like mine that are remote are, I think there's less and less these days. Peri: Glacier has only a handful of wilderness rangers, and just a single backcountry ranger station. And throughout the Park Service, these kinds of places, and the people with the skills to staff them, are disappearing. [drumbeat plays] Peri: In addition to all the odd jobs Lora does, a huge part of her job is talking to park visitors, most of whom are on multiday backpacking trips. As we hiked up the trail past Dawn Mist Falls, a scenic and loud waterfall, we ran into our first hiker of the day. Lora: [waterfall sound in the background] Hi there, how's it going? Backpacker: Good, how are you? Lora: Good. Where you coming from today? Backpacker: Lake Helen. Lora: How is it? Backpacker: Beautiful. Lora: Good! Backpacker: I think it's quite the best view out there. Lora: Yeah, a lot of people say that. Peri: She asks where they've been and where they're going. Lora: Cool. Do you have a permit I could take a look at. Backpacker: Oh, yeah. Lora: Helen, Glenns, Goat Haunt. Cool! What a great trip. Peri: And she'll chat about their trip, making sure they have what they need. Lora: Any questions about anything they covered in the permit office? Backpacker: No, I think I'm good. Hopefully this uh, the food gets lighter. Lora: Yeah. I mean, every pass will be easier. Backpacker: Yes. Yes. Yes. Lora: Yeah. Have fun on your trip! Belly River is my favorite place, but Goat Haunt's second, and you're going to both. So. Peri: And sometimes they have something more unusual to report. Lora: You know, maybe they saw a bear or a wolf or something really interesting that I can then report to the biologists or, you know, like I was saying, they often will report whether the food hang pole's damaged or the marmots living in the toilet again. [laughs] [drumbeat plays briefly] Peri: Most days, though, she patrols, checks the campgrounds, gives the pit toilet a once over, makes sure food is stored properly, and gives a helping hand where it's needed. Lora: So every once in a while I come across a food hang and it's not high enough. Peri: Most backcountry campgrounds have a food hang pole where you toss a rope over and then pull your food up, securing it ten feet off the ground, just high enough to keep it away from curious bears. Lora: [to camper] Oh, hi there! How's it going? Yeah, I just lifted your hang cause it wan't the ten feet. Camper Yeah. Sorry about that. That was my first bear hang, so. Lora: Oh, okay! Well... Camper Not the prettiest. Lora: It's okay! Just make sure, like, if you notice, I had it all the way to the top. Camper Do you actually mind showing me what knots you did. Lora: Yeah, I'll show you! Peri: Today, Lora uses her educational ranger charm to teach a camper the best knots for the job. Lora: So I use a form of a trucker hat. And so then what I do is I come through... [drumbeat plays] Peri: It's about six miles from the ranger station where the gear was stashed for us to pack out. So we had plenty of time to chat as we walked through the forest and along the choppy turquoise waters of Elizabeth Lake, with colorful Seward Peak and the sheer Ptarmigan Wall beyond. Lora: I'd never been to Montana before I got this job. I'd worked at Olympic as a wilderness ranger intern in college, and I always thought I was going to go back there. But then I got this job and I was like, "Oh, I guess Glacier's my place." Peri: [to Lora] So did you always think about being a backcountry ranger or working for the Park Service? Was that always something you were interested in? Lora: Definitely not. [laughs] I went to a liberal arts college and my major was American Studies, and I had a thesis that focused on public land history. But I took that summer internship at Olympic and realized, Wow, this is what I need to be doing. This is where I'm happy. Peri: And it makes perfect sense that someone who loves history but wants to work outside would end up working here and living in a log cabin. Lora: So if you're talking to me about Glacier or Belly River, I often go into the history part versus anything else. Peri: [to Lora] Is that part of what drew you to go to the Belly River? Lora: Definitely. The history and the legacy of Belly River. Um, having a mentor, Chuck Cameron, that worked here in the eighties and nineties. He got to share a lot of his experiences out here and the experiences of his mentor. So continuing on that legacy and preserving the Ranger Station, the institutional knowledge, passing that on... Is something that really drew me to Belly River. Peri: Chuck is one of the voices you've heard reading logbook entries from his time in the Belly River in the 1990s, along with one from Joe Heims in the 1920s. Both were rangers in Glacier for over 40 years. A long line of rangers connected by the tools they use, the horses and mules, and the way of life that makes up this job. Lora: It's definitely a connection to the past. We're using similar Decker saddles on the stock. That technology hasn't changed much. Yeah, we're using the same tools. I mean, literally some of the same tools that have been around for a long, long time. And yeah, we're patrolling the same trails. It's a different experience day to day, but they were doing patrol reports, we're still writing in the logbook every day what we got up to. [drumbeat plays] Chuck: September 22nd, 1992. Patrol to Stoney Indian bench today to pull the three plank bridges for the season. Went up there with a wrench and came back with a wrench, a Pulaski, old wire, a huge tarp, an empty Southern comfort bottle, an old 10 pound syrup can, and a fishing net. Quite a haul for one patrol. South winds, 67 degrees, at 1930 hours. Chuck Cameron. Peri: [in the field] And so, yeah, what are we packing out today? Lora: So today we are packing out old parts of an inverted U food hang. Peri: It's not a difficult hike to retrieve the old food hang pole. But all the same, I'm glad I'm not being asked to add a 25 pound chunk of metal to my pack. Lora: So the reason we're having the ponies do it is because this would be more awkward for a human, and we might take multiple humans to do what Ellen can do by herself. Peri: Glacier has a staff of packers who supply trail crews in the backcountry for eight day hitches or carry gear in for bat biologists or the fish crew. But for a few sections of metal pipe, Lora and Ellen can manage. Lora: So there's definitely a technique to mantying loads, and with practice people can become really quick and really neat with theirs. Michael: Like you? Lora: I would not say mine is the prettiest. [laughs] I've seen some very lovely loads come through. Peri: Packing loads on a mule is quite an art. Ever since horses and mules were domesticated thousands of years ago, people have been packing things on them. And Lora is quick to say she's no expert. Lora: I'm not a packer, I'm a ranger who happens to pack. I learned from other experienced rangers, I learned by going along with the packers over the years, learning from them and their different styles. But this spring I had the opportunity to go to the Nine Mile Wildlands Training Center in Missoula and attended their basic packing course. And I got the opportunity to attend this thanks to the help and funding of the Conservancy. Which I really appreciate. Peri: Mules are especially popular for packing because they're strong and sure footed. Their personalities vary, but Ellen is a keeper. Lora: But mules are fun. They've got really strong personalities. Each one one's very different. Michael: How would you describe Ellen's personality? Lora: [sounds of packing and tying straps] She's very social. She's patient with me, you know, because I had her two years ago, so she was helping me learn. Affectionate, even. But she'll give you a look. She's like, "What are you doing?" Peri: Basically, Lora puts the metal pipes into boxes that look like giant dresser drawers. Ellen can carry one load on each side, and after Lora makes sure they weigh the same, she wraps them up in a canvas tarp called a manty, and then finally ties them onto the metal rings of the pack saddle with some elaborate rope work. Lora: Sometimes you see it in their eyes when a weird load comes over. They're like, "Really? You're going to put that on me?" Peri: It seems straightforward enough, but it takes a lot of adjusting to get the load to set just right. It's kind of like packing and repacking and adjusting your own giant pack for an overnight trip—except way heavier. Lora: [talking to Ellen] All right. Ay ay ay. All right. Peri: [to Lora] A lot of packing seems to me to be tying and untying things. Lora: I think you got it. Peri: [to Lora] Am I ready to be a Ranger? Lora: Your, you're a Ranger packer. Peri: Spending the day with Lora, I feel lucky to see her in action and get a glimpse of what she and her predecessors have been doing here for over a hundred years. But there aren't many people who know how to do these things anymore. And I guess part of me is wondering, does anyone need to know how to do these things? Do these traditional skills still have a place in the modern world? How do we decide what's worth holding on to? Lora: I was reading like a book where it's like, one of the tests in the application to become a ranger was, can you saddle and pack a horse properly and quickly? And it was just part of like the job application and the interview process. And everybody could ride and pack and shoe, and all the ranger staff could could do it because it was just the way of life out here, of surviving. Peri: This isn't the case anymore, though. Lora: You see older rangers that are reaching towards the end of their careers and the younger folks can't ride or pack. And it's something that rangers have been doing for a hundred years. And so it's like it does it ends now, or do people like me start learning and riding and packing? And we have a lot of young packers in the park, but specifically like the Ranger Packer. Peri: I'd argue that it's a good idea to keep these thousands of years old skills alive just because—whether it's practical or not—so we don't lose them. But for Lora, it's not just nostalgia. Lora: I value it because I get to use it day in, day out here to do my job. And I can do my job better with these three. Peri: [to Lora] Because it's useful. Lora: Yeah. Peri: It's like, this is the easiest way to get a bunch of heavy stuff from point A to point B if you're not going to get a helicopter out here, which is expensive and dangerous. Lora: It's practical, but it's also iconic. So it's that dreamy scene of, you know, the string going through the mountains, over the passes, through the valleys. Peri: Today, that was us. And it felt like a link to something I didn't know I was missing. And I get the sense that's how a lot of people feel when they come here. Voice actor September 1988. I live in here with two horses and a mule. And some people would say that I'm a fool, no power, no phone, and all alone. But I say Belly River is a home with a family and friends I've made over the time. I have precious memories that will always be mine. Written by Chris Burke for V.V. O'Shea. Peri: We get back late in the day, and Lora takes care of General,Tank, and Ellen before sending them off to their evening pasture. The peaks turn rosy with alpenglow, the nighthawks call, and Lora gives us a tour of the station. Which is a functioning Ranger Station, of course, but is also basically a museum of Belly River history. Lora: So this is the Ranger Station office. We have a library, medical supplies, base station radio. The telephone doesn't work anymore. Peri: [to Lora] For the record, the telephone is like a 1900 telephone with the little bells that look like eyes and the little, the receiver on the side. [both laughing] I feel like I would describe this room as filled with ranger whimsy. Lora: I think that's probably accurate. [laughing] We have a typewriter that I think was used until the nineties. Maybe we'll get it back in working condition. Some fun drawings of the mules that were worked here in the past. A photo of the old Bear Mountain fire lookout. And then next to it is Joe Cosley, the first Belly River Ranger. Peri: Some homes have a photo of the pope hanging on the wall in a place of honor. The ranger station has a portrait of Joe Cosley. Lora: I do not look to him for my values and ethics based on his actions. But uh, but he's—he's an icon for here. Infamous... Peri: Joe Cosley, the first Belly River Ranger, was hired under the rationale that to catch poachers, you should hire a poacher. Unfortunately, he never really stopped poaching. But that's a story for another time. Lora: We also have the historic Belly River file, which has old newspaper clippings, any stories or interviews that people have done about Belly River? Peri: [to Lora] I feel like not every wilderness district is like this. Lora: Definitely not. Peri: It's easy to romanticize these old traditions and ways of life, but it is hard work. Lora: They always ask me like, "This is the dream job." You know, "how do I get your job?" But they never ask me that question when my head's inside of a pit toilet, or I'm covered in just gross mud and it's pouring down rain. Peri: And it's not just the physical challenges that can make this lifestyle tough to maintain. There are also logistical challenges to arranging your life in a way that you can do this job. And not everyone can do it. Lora: At this point in my life, I don't mind being seasonal. I like the change. I like the work. It's just harder and harder to live in this area on seasonal wages and to find housing available in the winters. Logistically, it becomes more difficult when you're trying to balance multiple jobs, multiple health care plans. I've had five health care plans in one calendar year from seasonal work. So I'd like to do this as long as possible, but who knows what the future holds? Chuck: [drumbeat playing] May 8th, 1990. It's a fine day here in Belly. I'm in for the 1990 season and glad of it. About 40 elk, 4 white tailed deer, and 4 Canada geese on the way in, snowing the whole way. Stored shutters in the annex and caught a glimpse of the saw-whet owl in the large aspen to the east of the pasture. Fine dinner and cribbage lessons provided by Ursula. Good to be back. Chuck Cameron. [music playing, with a historic audio clip saying: the Stetson that I'm wearing is the hallmark of the Ranger profession. I always tell them, "Put your hat on. That's what makes you a Ranger." Echoing: I always tell 'em, put your hat on, that what makes you a ranger.] Peri: No one person can do this job forever. But you'll learn a lot if you stick around for a decade or two, and you can pass that on to the generations after you. Lora: I mean, some of the most beloved rangers of Glacier have come through Belly River and yeah stayed a long time. Tracy 16 seasons. Bruce as well for a long time Dave Shea was here. Chuck Cameron. And then Joe Heims, you know, staying here through the winters. I wish they would let me do that, but I'm just a seasonal. [both laugh] Definitely the people that have worked here before, or currently do, hold this place close to their heart, and it's something we all share. Peri: [to Lora] Well, and I think it's like the relationship goes both ways, too. It's not just like "I live here and it's pretty." It's like I, like I take care of this place every day. And it takes care of me. Lora: Yeah. And I think that there are definitely people and cultures that have been like that for a long time. And I think I didn't necessarily grow up in that. And I think a lot of us didn't. Peri: I know the Park Service preserves historic buildings and objects—basically the Ranger Station and a lot of what's in it. But maybe it's also part of our mission to preserve ways of life, and skills and traditions that, if we're not careful, might otherwise go the way of the fax machine in my office. Lora: We would lose a connection to the past, and we'd lose very practical skills in what and how we manage these lands. Michael: Yeah, and it feels like this building would go from being like a living home and workspace to kind of a museum. Lora: Yeah, it would just be a memory, yeah, a memory of the past, or this is what it used to be like instead of "This is what we're doing now." We're still living out here. We're still ranging. Peri: I came to the Belly for a peek back in time, but if Lora has her way, this might be a look forward to. There will be other Belly River Rangers decades from now, packing mules, looking back at her entries in the logbook, and taking care of ranger business. Chuck: [wistful violin music begins to play] October 4th, 1989. Final morning in the station. Mopped the floor, final cleaning, covered the generator, shutters on, I guess that's it. It's been a fine season. Please take care of this place, whoever uses it. It is a unique place indeed. Radio 10-7 and I'm gone. South winds and 60 degrees at 1200 hours. Chuck Cameron. Peri: That's our show. Headwaters is a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our show notes. Special thanks this episode to Lora Funk, the whole Belly River staff, including Ellen the Mule, and the trail crew for letting us use their cabin. We appreciate Chuck Cameron reading his logbook entries, and the park's archives staff for giving us access to them. And shout out to Alex Stillson for always being willing to lend a hand. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening. Peri: In this episode, we shared a few log entries from Chuck Cameron, former Belly River Ranger, and a mentor to Lora. Well, this year, he's retiring. Lora: He's done really incredible things, saved lives—like literally saved lives. And has meant a lot to a lot of people. And I've heard a lot of Rangers say, I want to be like Chuck. And that kind of gives me hope. Peri: In our next episode, we sit down with Chuck, and hear about his legendary career in Glacier..