Becoming a mountain man

So, I've finally made a Blogpost about my time in Tennessee. The reasons are partly beyond my control and some definitely within my control. I didn't have internet in the state park, and I knew it was going to be a long undertaking.

As before, I'll break down this post into sections, but I'm going to keep it all in one post this time.

Click below to jump to a section:
-Job description-
-Succession-
-Hybridization-
-Nest Searching-
-Biodiversity-
-Elk-
-Tennessee-
-Cove Lake State Park-

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Q: So what exactly was I doing there anyway?
A: I worked for the University of Tennessee, and specifically a graduate student (Katie Percy). She is studying a threatened song bird here in the Eastern United States called the Golden-winged Warbler. The majority of her work involves nest searching (more on that to come). I stayed in a couple of travel trailers in Cove lake State Park in Caryville, Tn. The study sites were on the mountain tops only a 30 minute drive up from the park. It was done on state owned Wildlife Management Area and National Coal land. This project ran from April 25th-July 15th.


With all that over with lets start with everything project related.

The Golden-winged Warbler
No, this is not the Golden-cheeked Warbler I worked on last year. This year I worked with a Golden-winged Warbler. (Remember to click on the underlined and colored text to see more information)

This is a Golden-winged Warbler

This is a Golden-cheeked Warbler. I did not work on this this summer


Instead, I worked on THIS. A Golden-winged Warbler

As far as warblers go, they are not closely related, and in seperate genus's. Both birds occupy very different habitat. You would not find them together in the United States, except under the rarest of circumstances. (The Golden-wing is a trans-gulf migrant while the Golden-cheek is a mainland migrant)

The Golden-winged Warbler is a near threatened species that is currently up for the Endangered Species listing.

It is an early successional species thats declining due to habitat loss and hybridization with the closely related Blue-winged Warbler.
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Succession in the biological world is simply the gradual progress of an ecosystem. Every ecosystem has a beginning and end. Plant growth and colonizing rates vary greatly. Some grasses may grow up in days/weeks while large broadleaf treas (oaks, maples, etc.) never stop growing. With the growth of the large slow growing broadleaf trees, there's a lessening of the weedy and shrubby plants as available light decreases. This leads to a slow change in the habitat's plant structure. An example earliest succession would be a blank dirt field with poor nutrients. And the farthest iteration would be the Redwood forests and Old growth forests of the Northwest (Old growth has disappeared in the East).
Imagine an empty lot, nothing but dirt. The first thing to appear are weeds, hardy species that are great at colonizing. As the roots take hold and change the soil composition, grasses pop up. Eventually as the lot turns into a grassy/weedy field, the smaller shrubs and trees begin colonizing (riding the wind perhaps). Five years later, there's small saplings and shrubs in the field. Around the saplings and shrubs you'd lose many grasses and weeds with lessening of sunlight. Twenty years later, the saplings have grown into full trees, grass has essentially disappeared locally, and the shrubs are less dominate. 30-100 years later (depending on trees) the shrubs have all but disappeared, except in small pockets of sunlight, and the trees have grown to towering heights. The ground is now bare except a short layer of struggling weeds and forbes. At the tail end of this process trees naturally fall down or die. The downed trees and standing snags create new openings in the canopy. This special mosaic creates a sterotypical Old Growth forest.

This is succession, habitats get knocked back to early periods due to fire, wind, storms, or human involvement.

Golden-winged Warblers nest in early succession habitats, the habitats with plentiful grass and bushes. Specifically they love the habitats that have sparse tall trees or snags (dead standing trees), and are within 200 feet of a mature forest. All three layers, a grass layer, shrub layer, and tall tree layer. This pickiness lead to their current decline, but actually lead to their earlier population increase!

Over the last 100 or so years, the United States went through a huge population increase. This lead to an increase in foresting and coal mining. The destruction of the old-growth forest actually increased the amount of suitable habitat for the Golden-winged Warbler. With the introduction of the Endangered Species Act in 1973 and the beginning of the global conservation movement many of these activities were retarded or halted. Areas that were once destroyed were allowed to grow back, reforestation began. With the reforestation, and return to mature forests, the Golden-winged's numbers began to decline again.
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The Golden-winged Warblers suffer from another problem, hybridization with Blue-winged Warblers.

The close cousin, the Blue-winged Warbler.

While morphologically (meaning: visually) different from a Golden-winged Warbler, phenotypically (meaning: genetically), its habits, preferences, and song are quite similar. These two are so genetically similar that they can make fully functional offspring capable of mating. Hybridization is a common and fundamentally important aspect of evolution. The mixing of genes and loss of that distinct species in the next generation is very difficult to deal with by an already struggling species.

The interesting thing about these two species, is their two common hybrid outcomes.

As a reference
Golden-Winged Warbler on the left/Blue-winged Warbler on the right

The 'Brewsters Warbler' is simply a cross between a Golden-wing and a Blue-wing:

You can see the blue back and crown from the Golden-wing, as well as the black eyeline and yellow bib from the Blue-wing

The 'Lawrence Warbler' is thought to be a cross between two 'Brewster Warblers'

The Lawrence Warbler is a bit all over the place. A mask and bib like a Golden-wing, with wing wingbars and body color of a Blue-wing

While absolutely fascinating, when we come upon one in the field, we generally call it dirty names. It is visually proof of the Golden-wings decline. If we find a 'pure' individual mating with a hybrid we questions its upbringing and it's questionable morals. We essentially become bird racists.

Hybrids and how they relate to evolution and struggling species, is a complicated and fascinating subject I plan on touching this winter. It is much too long for today.
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My work revolved around searching for Golden-winged nests, monitoring and banding those nests, and gathering vegetation data on the nesting and territory sites.

How do you find a birds nest? Well the short answer is you follow it till it takes you to it. This is very simplified and varies in difficulty based on the species. The Golden-wing is a ground nester, and a paranoid one at that. Ground-nesters are very good at hiding their nest. If you live at the level of predators, you better be good at hiding it. The difficulty in finding one is medium to hard. At the end of a season you will find a couple, and you will miss ALOT.

Nest searching is like being a police detective in a foreign country.
Your equipment:
Notebook-rite-in-rain (water resistant)

Binoculars- definitely waterproof
And thats it

As you run through territories, you witness tiny snippets of the birds life. They (especially paranoid species like Golden-wings) don't trust you and don't like when you're around their nest. Running back and forth through their territory you see them fly different directions, double back, eat, grab nesting material, sing. And you have to figure out what, if anything, all this means.

Now grabbing nesting material means your lucky day, because you have a high chance they'll fly right to the nest. Otherwise, it's follow them as long as you can, write down what they do. Day by day, in each territory, you create a profile of them. Is there an area he/she likes to hang out in? Maybe the nest is there. Did the male just look down to the ground? Maybe its there.

Unless you get lucky, your day is finding evidence and investigating these hunches. You're usually wrong. Dead wrong. The nest could be 100 meters on the otherside of the forest and you spent three hours staking out a worthless patch of forest.

Nest searching is a funny thing. In the bird world I would say it's one of the hardest skills. Most bird jobs can teach you what you need to know, and except serious point counts, you only need to know how to identify a few species. Nest searching is something sought after and very frustrating. The frustration is common knowledge in nest searching, something that is talked about in interviews and over many beers. There will be days where you won't see your target species at all. You could go a couple weeks without finding a nest, while your partners find 10.

I think the key is never giving up and not blaming yourself. A lot like in sports, once you find one, you magically find more. Confidence. Luck. Whatever it is. Increased time equals increased opportunities to get lucky. Lady luck doesn't care who you are, she's going to show herself if she damn well pleases and doesn't care about your 'feelings'.

If it looks like we're having a moment, we're not. We both hate each other

You also find yourself part ninja. If a female sees you around her nest, she won't come to it. But you never know where the nest is. This leads to much stalking. You become a bird creeper. When you find a female, you follow as close as you can without scaring her. You hide behind trees, peak out from bushes, and run as fast as you can when she flys off. If you're on a stake out, you have to hide in the bushes. I have even gone as far as making a hat made of leaves, and covering myself in branches. Silly? Yes. Useful? Sometimes. Other times the bird just stares right at you and turns it's head inquisitively.

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Tennessee is gorgeous. Eastern Tennessee in particular has amazing mountain views. The Appalachian mountains split the border between Tennessee and North Carolina, and the Cumberland mountains diverge just above Knoxville.

Our field site (mines farther down the mountain)

The humidity in the regions often brings fog in the morning, that settles softly in the valleys

Elevational change allows a variety of species to live in their preferred temperature bands. Elevation and geological activity create a variety of soil compositions and high diversity of plant species. Abundant rain fall brings in many plant and animals species that might otherwise be limited. All these factors turn the area into what is called a 'Biological hot spot'.

Eastern Tennesse is home to numerous frogs, amphibians and snakes. Including:
The Eastern Garter snakeThe Black RacerThe declining Timber Rattlesnake
It's home to hundreds of bird species. About 20 warbler species breed in either mountain range in Tennessee. In migration the mountains act as a highway leading straight to the northern U.S and Canada. This summer I counted 23 Warbler species alone, and a multitude of other migrants. A few of my favorite breeders include the Hooded Warbler, Cerulean Warbler, Scarlet Tanagers, and Red-eyed Vireos.

The loud and charismatic Hooded Warbler

A morning in the equivalent of the song bird suburbs is a cacophony of sound. Between Indigo Buntings, Yellow-breasted Chats, and every Warbler it can be hard to think in the forest. Only rain brings quiet, and then you're huddling under a tree to get out of the rain.

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Another oddity in the Cumberlands are the Elk. Elk roamed Tennessee over 150 years ago. Western expansion saw the species disappear from most of the East. In 2000, Tennessee Wildlife and Resources Agency (TWRA) introduced 200 elk to the Cumberlands and began managing for them. This leads to a strange love affair, where the elk get special treatment over many other species. Forests are cleared, burned, and mowed to create 'food plots', for the elk to graze at. This inane tactic mainly acts as an easy meeting point for the elk. Seeing the elk is a tourist attraction, and starting in 2009, a hunting sport. Though only 300 strong, there have been exclusive elk hunts started, with a very guest list.

An interesting note, the Elk in the Cumberlands are anecdotally smaller than their western counterparts. This may be a function of the individuals they brought in from Canada or fast evolutionary selection for smaller individuals in the smaller range size of the Cumberland mountains.

The elk are a great addition to the environment. These previous residents are abundant on our study sites. You see them driving up the mountain, and run into them in the early morning on the mountain. Compared to the incredibly common White-tailed Deer, they are a welcome change. The problem rests in how TWRA deals with them. On Ashlog (the mountain my site was on) there is only fire management. This means sections of the mountain are burned to maintain pre-european settlement like ecological conditions. No food plots are currently planned for the mountain. On Massengale (the mountain opposite), food plots are maintained and burned. The elk are slightly more populous on the opposite mountain, but still locally abundant on either mountain. The more natural habitat on Ashlog still gives the Elk plenty of open fields to eat, and plenty of forests for other birds. Less hands touch Ashlog, while Massengale requires large roads to be built, mowers to mow over bird nests, and forests to be cleared.

I believe in a very hands off approach to conservation, and can not agree with the tactics of TWRA here. (Conservation practices represent another indepth topic I plan on covering this winter).
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Tennessee treated me very well. The majority of people are some of the nicest you'll ever meet. Watch out how interested you come off to a Tennessean, because they'll sit and talk with you for hours. They feed you. Help you. And always up for a chat. On multiple occasions I was either invited to dinner or given food made especially for us. They take pride in being called the Volunteer state, and love anything to do with the University of Tennessee. While they may not understand what you do, they'll feign interest just because you're with UT.

-A quick side note on the Tennessee Volunteers-

Tennessee is called the volunteer state because their mass enrollment of soldiers in not only the War of 1812 but the Mexican-American War. Davy Crockett, while speaking to his disenchantment of the Tennessean political system, famously said, 'You may all go to hell, and I will go to Texas'. While not initially planning on joining the Texas revolution, abruptly signed an oath of allegiance upon entering Texas, and joined the revolution. This altruism, regardless of the issue, runs deep in Tennessee's veins to this day.

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A bad side is the stranglehold meth has on Tennessee, especially the mountain regions. There's such a strong anti-meth campaign that children are taught the dangers as young as elementary school.

A sign upon entering Caryville, Tn (Taken by Laurel Moulton)

Knoxville, the location of the University of Tennessee, is a wonderful town. It's blend of urban college students, growing green attitude, and Tennessee values creates an adorable town in the valley.

Live music thrives in Knoxville, especially blue grass bands.

Knoxville hosts many great events and a great square. It's a city that's just the right size, and attitude just right. I'm probably biased because I'm from the south. Many arguments against it arise from it being in a southern state with a politically radical right stance. I'm used to most of this though, so it didn't bother me.
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Cove Lake, was a little different. Situated right off the highway and in the middle of the Caryville, it acts like a giant city park for the residents. The state park has the towns basketball courts, tennis courts, gazebos, baseball diamonds, and the swimming pool. Every weekend brings in a multitude of people camping all around you. And the swimming pool is always full on weekends.

Wild, it is not.

It's surrounded by a small lake that gives great views of the Cumberland mountains (click to really enjoy)

Contains hundreds of non-migrating geese that rule the park.

And I got to stay in a very interesting travel trailer (taken by Laurel Moulton)

All in all it wasn't a terrible place to stay. Loud at times. And not very peaceful, but I can't complain too much.

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This all pretty much sums up my time at Tennessee. While there's so much more I could talk about. My sliders eating challenge. Ticks. First Friday. The Green Machine. I don't want this to go any longer than it currently is.

For a more indepth journey, head on over to my Photo Page and click on the Tennessee album. Once there you can experience my photog version.

Thanks for reading,
-Matt

So, I've dragged my feet on this blog long enough. I've meant to update on Tennessee, New York, AND my journey home. But the lack of consistent internet, coupled with the incredibly long posts required, gave me an adequate excuse to never do them.
(For the photog version check out my Picassa Albums:
http://picasaweb.google.com/androecy)

Instead of using it as an excuse, I will continue on. With my freetime I'd love to redo the entire blog: writing, formatting, and pictures. In that time, I'll add on those posts, because I'd love to use those as a jumping point for teaching many biological/ecological concepts.
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I'm back in New Braunfels now, and spending the winter here. After leaving home for six months, I honestly have gone through tremendous changes. Whether it shows outwardly or not, I feel I came back a different person. I think this is natural after experiencing so many different things. I climbed mountains, walked on beaches, ate ridiculous amounts of food, stepped on snakes, found wild horses, fell in love, earned a broken heart, found friends, fought, cried, caught birds, salamanders, snakes, forced in too many awkward situations, forced to meet people, became popular, and burned many bridges.

And here I am back home. After many months of wishing I was back home, I'm back and unsure of how I feel.

Granted New Braunfels ranks in the top places to spend winter in North America. Fair weather, beautiful hill country, eclectic, and within a couple hours of top birding hot spots. The hill country is home to me.

I'm just not used to having, stability. It frankly scares me. I lived out of my car for 2 weeks, never knowing where I was going to sleep that night. Before that I worked field jobs with unfamiliar people in unfamiliar places. Now I'm in a room I'm used to, running down streets I know, and not knowing what to do with myself.

So I did what any bird would do, I began nesting. I spent the last couple of days cleaning out this room, vacuuming, cleaning, while Mom and Scott spent all of today trying to get rid of the rodents. Not that there is anything wrong with this room, it just simply had squatters in it while I was gone.

With the room clean, I began, with magpie like tenacity, hanging up my collections. I have this collecting tendancy. I'm not normally much of a collector, but I am extremely nostalgic. I take signs, maps, or small things from places I go.

My map of Fort Hood, Tx (classified)

Perhaps stolen sign from Fort Hood as well as my National Refuge Week poster

Another perhaps stolen (in small print-personale conducting wildlife surveys), and my Golden-winged Warbler working group poster entirely in spanish (that I can't read)

Map of the Mississippi River Delta and our transects (There's a star in the middle where we stayed)(also classified)

I didn't get a chance to hang this one up, as it's going to go on the door with magnets. This is our field site in Tennessee with territories and nests marked (needs to be updated)

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With that done I wanted to fix up the backyard. I definitely have fallen in love with birds. Before I was really serious, Katie famously told all her friends I left her for birds. It's essentially come true now. My life is so much more meaningful with them.

So step 2. Bring all the birds to my yard.
I started this by hanging a feeder outside my window. What I love about birds is they don't play by the rules. Himalayan Snowcocks in Arizona? WHY NOT? Birds hundreds of miles off their suspected range? WHY NOT? Never migrate because theres plenty of bird feeders in a neighborhood? SURE!

Ontop of that I want to build a small feeder I can put oranges out on. Oranges are a favorite treat for many birds, and a great attractor. I was unsure how to go about it, so I began by making a test model. I used whatever I could find in the room, cardboard, paperclips, and some fishing line.

Juice from the orange, just fyi

I placed a screw in the middle for the orange, and hung it by 4 rings made from paperclips.

I honestly don't know how much weight this can hold, but hopefully it can hold a couple ounce bird. If I get enough interest in my oranges, I'll build a better one out of wood, with sides, and a roof.

We'll see how it does in the morning.
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Before I left last spring, I put out a novel birdhouse I received as a gift for my birthday.
Today I decided to see how it fared. Though made out of some kind of treated cardboard, it held through the summer. The cardboard was a bit waterlogged and clearly not going to make it through another season, so I began taking it apart.

As I took of the top and began opening the birdhouse, something clearly had nested in it. The box was filled to the brim with grasses, feathers, and even a cracker wrapper. I stripped off each wall carefully, leaving only the bottom remaining. Strengthened with the various bird feathers (wood peckers, mockingbirds, and wrens), it held its shape well.
Right at the bottom were even two remaining eggs that didn't make it through the season. From a few body feathers and the eggs I reason it was a Carolina Wren.

This is a common backyard bird. They are very curious, getting themselves in trouble often. Wrens are known to walk right into peoples open doors and frequently get caught in houses. Added to their strange behavior they also nest in very peculiar places. Here's a couple I found online:They nest in garages

They nest in shoes

They nest in bathrooms (apparently this was a womans scunchi bowl)

I'm pretty sure I know exactly who this couple was. Scott sent me this picture back in March.
A Carolina Wren had nested in his motorcycle helmet. It's the same wren I see fly in and out of the garage, fly all over the house, and stare me when I walk outside. I'm sure by putting out the birdhouse I saved another one of Scott's possessions from another nesting attempt.
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And that's all for now! I have been dreaming all month about making a couple repeated segments. These include a Backyard Bird Profile segment, as well as one on travel tips. So stay tuned!

-As a side note- I officially saw my 300th species of bird a week ago. While playing football in Plano, I heard a very curious tse-tse-tse call, and BAM Dark-eyed Junco. No binoculars necessary. A good 300th for me. Since then I've added two more: Rock and Cactus Wren at the Sibley Nature Center in Midland, Tx.

302 :)

River Otters

River Otters

These are quickly becoming my favorite mammal. I love the dolphins, but these guys are equally as cool. River Otters live in rivers where fish, mussels, or crab are in abundance. They're very cautious animals, but seem to feel very safe on the opposite bank of a river from you. They are agile swimmers, very able fisherman, and cute as hell.

I've seen river otters all over this delta, it's hard to pin down the specific places they live, they just live everywhere. The salinity doesn't seem to effect them too much, as they've been in the bay in Pass-a-loutre, mouth of south pass, and everywhere in the marsh.

We have a pair of otters living on the inlet we're docked on. The island is a two acre rectangle, with two small river passes on the east and west side, and two inlets on opposite north south ends of the island. This leaves a narrow land bridge on both north south ends of the small island. The otters live in the inlets, probably in the reeds or marsh, and fish in the waters our house boat is docked on.

They gorge themselves on the endless supply of fish. They fish for hours every night.

Sometimes very curious, letting you pass close to them, as they watch you. And sometimes very cautious, diving immediately upon seeing you.

I've been on a mission since I got here to capture a good picture of one. I'd stalk them at night. Sit in a dark corner waiting for them. Or come upon them with a headlamp. The problem has been, on the island, they only come out at night. You can't take a quick picture or a good one. Luck was finally with me, as I walked outside, midday, and found one on the shore eating lunch. I quickly ran inside, grabbed my camera, and got beautiful pictures of him as he ate, and then ran off into the reeds.

The one around here seems to be paired with no offspring. They play with each other, and squeek at each other as they touch noses. When they play, they corkscrew their bodies together, like DNA. It's really quite adorable. I love to watch them at night. They're virtually silent as they swim in the water. They love watching you when you're not looking. Sometimes you'll turn your head and two otter heads will quickly go under, ashamed they were caught watching you.

I just hope they can stay away from the coyotes.

Dolphins

Dolphins

Dolphins are everywhere down here. You see them anywhere the water is over five feet deep. You see them alone. You see them in groups. You see them in the distance, you see them behind you. They surface, they jump your wakes, they look at you, the play in the water. And I'm getting the feeling they are following us.

This suspicion was confirmed by other crews that mentioned the same sinking feeling. You see a dolphin surface, and instead of following its path, it seems to surface closer to you. You can't guess where they're going to surface because it's almost like they don't have anywhere in particular to go. They just always seem to get closer to you. And they're everywhere you are.

We had an amazing instance where we stopped the boat in a particularly deep bay, and the dolphins approached us. They played, and seemed to show off to us. They surfaced and looked at us, surrounded our boat, and circled. For 20 minutes they played with us, doing silly tail stands, or choreographed surfacing. Another crew farther down the coast, had a dolphin come up and touch her feet hanging off the boat.

One of my theories is the rich fishing in the area leads to the increase in dolphins. Although it would seem equally as possible they are as curious about us as we are about them. It could also be they are attracted to fishing boats, where they can steal fish from. I can't imagine the locals, with such a love for killing animals, would enjoy the dolphins. I'm betting they think they're a nuisance. I feel safer when they're around. I'd rather have curious dolphins surrounding me when I'm waiting for rescue, than the eerie silence of the open ocean. Dan maintains a cautious outlook on them, fearing they can turn on you as fast as any other wild animal. They do kill sharks. But they also kill sharks, which is also a good thing, right?

All I know is I'm bringing a beach ball out on the ocean now...

The Delta

The Delta

I've spoken much about the delta, and I'll only add a few key points

Number one is the work of sediment on the Mississippi River Delta. A river delta is famous for the amount of sediment it deposits. After traveling for thousands of miles, the river gains sediments, and as it reaches its lower altitudes it slows down. At the end of its journey, slow, full of sediments, it empties its contents, creating a delta. Over years, all of southeastern Louisiana was created, including the 'duck foot' delta I work on.

Man's control over the river has created many conservation problems. Dredging deep channels have forced the normally shallow slow waters to increase in speed. This causes the sediment that normally would deposit itself all throughout the delta, to shoot off the continental shelf (the deep waters of the ocean). Land is literally disappearing from Louisiana. The land that normal gets replaced by more sediment, now just erodes from the waves. Maps created a month ago, now show land and channels that don't exist anymore. This is especially true in the Pass-a-Loutre Channel.

Head of passes has three man made channels: Southwest Pass, the major shipping channel where all major liners traverse from the Gulf of Mexico. South Pass, the former major shipping channel, that is now used by smaller vessels. Pass-a-Loutre, a former channel that hasn't been dredged in years. It's been scrapped to allow parts of the delta to return to their natural state. This pass is a wild changing ride. The channel, now with active sedimentation, will abruptly change to 1 foot of water, than back to 8 feet. It requires a strong knowledge of the pass or a depth finder. The mouth of the pass changes weekly. Sedimentation causes land to disappear, leaving your GPS worthless as you try to find an opening on your own. Our big boat can't go out this way, as we can't find a way through it. Our mudmotor can easily, as it can ride in 6 inches of water. The area around Pass-a-loutre is never deep. The bays are one foot to three foot for miles. MILES. You can walk a mile or more out from shore, and never get above your waist. It's nuts. Before we had a range finder, I thought I was in the deep ocean, just to find I could jump off and touch the bottom.

Two is the man made control over the Delta. The Mississippi's current tendency is not to go through New Orleans. The path it wants to take is almost 200 miles southeast of New Orleans in the Atchafalaya River Delta. The channel in New Orleans is strictly maintained, as it currently is a major hub and port of commerce. Recently, they've allowed a tributary of water to flow into Atchafalaya, returning a portion of this management area's sedimentation and ecology to it's previous state.

The loss of land is a big conservation concern down in Louisiana, but no one seems to have a good idea what to do about it. The channels need to be maintained for commerce, but the shore is literally shrinking from Louisiana because of it. There have been ideas tried, like a million dollar sand berm built off the coast, that washed away after a month.

The Fog

The Fog

The locals, respect and fear the fog around here. I first thought they were just exaggerating about the fog. Dear reader, I'm here to tell you, it's something like you've never experienced.

In the winter, the water is cold and there is lots of it. The delta juts 100's of miles off from mainland Louisiana, surrounded by very little amount of land.

It is very humid around here. Even on cold days, you can feel that it's wet. The cold feels worse when its humid.

When any type of warm air rolls in, all of this coalesces into intense fog. The cold air above the water, mixed with very moist air, creates an intense fog that doesn't burn off. The water never warms up, and with a south wind, the fog will keep rolling in. A fairly normal occurrence is to watch the fog roll in up river, never coming on to land, just rolling, feet high, on the river.

Most captains stay away from this fog, it's inevitable thickness reduces visibility to feet. Only the biggest boats with large radar arrays brave the waters. This fog can roll in quickly, with little notice.

One day we waited till the fog lifted, then headed out, just to hit it again at the head of passes where the river widended into a three way intersection. The main shipping channel, southwest pass, with its plethora of water, never lost its fog that day. And as the day went on, the fog receded from the smaller passes, just to stop right at the bays and roll back in as the intensity of the sun decreased.

So what happens if you get trapped in this fog? You travel slowly, very cautiously, and hug the side of the channel where no big boats will travel. The locals tell stories of friends too scared to go on the water after a huge shipping boat barreled out of the fog and nearly broke their boat in half. You post a person on the bow, as look out for any boats or wakes. The wakes from a big boat is just as bad if not seen early enough.

It does make for stunning sights. Certain kinds of fog sits only feet above the water allowing you to drive for miles looking out above the thick fog. Birds fly right infront of you, breaking through the fog without you even knowing they were there. The rumors are it sometimes stays for days, grounding any work. This is especially bad if you live on a small island accessible only by boat...Buy supplies when you can, and stock up, that's what we've learned. You can get stuck for weather or fog for days, without supplies.

Louisiana

I've decided to break into sections, while the situation here is quiet, with no more incidents to report.. It's much easier to describe parts of this area in categories.

I'll start here with my take on Louisiana

Louisiana has a very unique culture. This cajun culture they embrace seems more real than I expected. I thought it was just a tourist attraction like Hawaii. The truth is, they love their cajun culture (I'm sure Hawaii does too). Unfortunately I haven't come in contact with too much of that culture. I learned what king cake was; kind of like a huge cinnamon roll with icing on it, that you hide a baby small baby doll in. The tradition goes, who ever gets the piece with the baby has to buy the next king cake. This tradition runs just prior to lent and mardigras. Besides kingcake I come in contact with more local 'flavor' than cajun culture.

Once you get south of the highway 90 line, you get into southern Louisiana, a joking point for most Louisianans. Instead of white trash there are people referred to as “Coon asses”. Which is basically a cajun redneck. And they're everywhere. The term is about as derogatory as “white trash”, and used fairly often. These backwoods swamp locals speak with a heavy cajun accent, and are very hard to understand. They come in every color, love to fish, hunt, and smoke. Most of them aren't very nice. Infact, Louisiana hasn't been very nice to me. Going into town, I get eyed, ignored, and mouthed off too. Being a local seems very important to people here, anyone else just doesn't fit. As with Lousiana Wildlife and Fisheries and the locals, they are very hard to get to know, but once you do they are very nice.

A few sterotypes justified:
Yes, some people speak a different language, which I guess is creole? I'm not sure.
Yes, some people do have a recipe for everything down here
Yes, once you cross the highway 90 line you feel like you've left America.

Louisiana is dirty. Conservation is not an issue. When you fight nature, building highways over 20 miles of inhabitable swamp, and contain the best fishing in the nation, you don't tend to think natures in trouble. Trash is everywhere. This isn't about garbage thrown from a car. Stuff isn't taken away, it's left where it sits. Your house or car was destroyed in Katrina? Just leave it there. There are signs on ripped apart houses that say 'Do not Destroy', why? I have no idea. When an oil company is done with a well pump, they leave it in the water, letting it sink into the ocean, never marking it as a danger. There is an area in the delta that looks like an oil pump graveyard. Miles of sunken oil platforms, some barely above water. Oil platforms are put up anywhere they can, with almost no visible safety precautions for the wildlife. There is oil drilling in wildlife management areas and wildlife refuges.

The motto on the river is, “Just throw it in the river”. Trash? Throw it in the river. Sewage? Throw it in the river. There are no styrofoam or glass laws around the water. Recycling ofcourse doesn't exist once you get too far away from a major city. In the middle of the delta 100 miles from a major city, you can see the smog surrounding you from the oil drilling. It's a nasty place.

Louisiana is a terrible place. If it wasn't for the wildlife, I'd hate it here. As it is, I love it for the rich diversity in animal and wildlife. It feels like I live in the lost world, sometime.

The Incident

The Incident

This moment has defined our entire trip here, and been a continuous point of conversation and jokes.

It begins with a description of our boat, this being our former boat.

This boat was a 17 foot skiff with a 90hp engine. It formally had been swamped, pulled out of the water, thrown in a junk pile, and salvaged by LSU. In order to get it working and in legal order, the rusted switches were pulled, and jerryrigged. The bilge pump and running lights required alligator clips to work. In order for the bilge pump to work you had to manually connect the alligator clips to the battery. The wires from the engine to the battery were quite corroded.

The boat contained a very serious design flaw, the middle of the stern, where the engine was attached, was cut away, and never left with any sort of water outlet system or holes for stray water to drain out and not run into the boat. The barely floating boat, with gas, and a driver sat less than 6 inches above the water on the back end.

We ran this boat in a variety of situations, all of which it wasn't properly suited for. I heard it's only purpose was to drive across nice calm lakes. Not across 200 feet depth open water, or 1 foot shallow bays.

Oneday we decided to take this boat on a beach for lunch. Dan's background in boating is much more extensive than mine and he felt fine beaching a boat. With my lack of experience I went along with it, ready to see how you do it correctly.

At this particular beach there were small waves crashing on shore, and was fairly deep farther out. The wind was coming from the south east and the waves were coming in from the south west. We rolled on in and got out of the boat once we had hit the sandy bottom, stern facing the waves. Dan told me to grab the anchor and throw it on shore to keep us from floating out at sea from the upcoming tide. As I'm running out to the beach, I turn around, and we notice the waves crashing right onto the back of the boatt. As I walked back towards the boat, a big wave crashed into the back of the boat, lowering the boat, allowing more and more waves to crash into it. By the time I got back, the boat was already straight on the bottom of the sand. We tried pushing the bow towards the waves and tried frantically to bail the boat, but it was useless. The bilgepump was sunk and impossible to connect under the murky water, if that even would have helped. We tried for a couple minutes before realizing the boat the was too full of water, and started pulling everything out of the boat. This included one 5 foot action packer full of our gear, that was so heavy one person could only lift it with the fear of a sinking boat weighing on their shoulders. Luckily it floated, and if we needed help we could drop it in the water for a second to rest. Also included were three 12 gallon gas cans weighing somewhere between 30-50 pounds.

With speed and a lot of effort we brought everything on land, trying to asses the situation quickly. The tide was coming in quickly, meaning more and more water would be getting into the boat. The quickest solution was to try to get help from a beach crew doing work about one mile down the beach. Dan ran off as quick as he could, in full waders and boots, while I stayed with the boat and equipment.

As he approached the crews, one of the boat captains recognized an emergency and met him about a kilometer from them in the boat. He jumped onto the boat and began to explain the situation. When the captain attempted to leave the shallow water, his boat just shuddered as the waves pushed it into the sand, beaching them as well. So Dan and the crew got out, and had to push this boat out to sea.

About 30 minutes went by before the boat showed up, refusing to go very far into shallows. They sat offshore for 10 minutes before deciding on anything to do. The crew members refused to help us, believing the boat to be sunk and a lost cause, famously saying, “That boats sunk”. Luckily, the captain was more optimistic and decided to try. I was forced to wade out into the deeper water to try to understand the crews hollers. The truth is I never heard a word they said that windy day, I just caught the rope they threw to me, and tied it to the bow of the boat by guess.

With the rope tied to the bow, the captain began to drive off attempting to pull us off of the shore. After many attempts, the bow finally pointed into the waves and I held it there while Dan jumped into the water and joined me. At this point the waves had gone way over my chest, leaving my waders completely full of water, and me soaked. The wind was blowing 10mph and it was 50 degrees outside, but the adrenaline kept me from feeling any of this.

Dan jumped in the boat and attempted to start it, but the battery completely covered in water, just sparked and refused to start. Luckily we had a trolling motor battery. The battery shocked dan twice as he tried to switch the battery. The new battery luckily worked, and we drove off. Dan kept us on plane while I used a manual bilge pump to pump all the water out of the boat. After about 20 minutes, the boat was empty of water and we returned to shore. This time I held the boats bow into the waves as Dan carried half the stuff, then switched as he became too tired from the haul. It's one thing to do this in a swimsuit, but with waders filled with water, and a heavy float coat life jacket on, is quite another. I was told later that a dolphin jumped 30 feet behind me as I held up the bow, Dan just explained, “I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you felt about large aquatic mammals”

The hour trip home was quiet and cold, as the adrenaline wore off leaving the cold, water, and wind to eat into me. Once home, I sat in the shower for 30 minutes trying to warm up my body. It was after that we began to really talk about what had happened.

There were many things we did wrong, and many that were destined to go wrong.

For starters, Dan had never beached a boat with waves breaking so close to shore, and truthfully we never should. That section of beach has two very close sandbars. One before the wave break, a deep section, than an abrupt sandbar as the waves break. This forces you to go to the second sandbar before jumping out and leaving you in a very dangerous situation.

The second thing was where the anchor and bow should have been pointing. The bow should point into the waves, and the anchor should generally be dropped in the direction of the wind. The wave action and wind was so strong that day, that I don't believe either of these would have worked that well. As we tried to pull out the boat the first time, we would fail as the intersecting forces would push the boat to the side, beaching it again. While pointing the stern towards the waves was a bad idea, it feels like we were just weren't supposed to land on that beach.

The last thing wrong was our boat and gear. With the back end so close to the water, anything approaching the back end is a danger. This boat simply wasn't made to take any waves coming. The salvaged boat had lost many of it's safety, with the battery situation and wiring a hazard for any emergency situation. The bilge pump connections admist a mess of other exposed wires, and connections that were already corroded. The next day we took the boat out, I tried to start the engine, and again it failed. I tried jiggling the wire and the battery connection literally broke off from corrosion. Had that happened the previous day, we would have been sunk. Which is maybe where that boat should have stayed. What a piece of junk.

There are many times in history when flaws are only discovered when something goes wrong. The size of the gear box, requiring two people to carry, never was an issue till we needed to carry it by ourselves. The next day we moved everything into a smaller, lighter, box and can now be carried by one person easily.

The whole ordeal is now joked about openly by everyone on the other crews. Being in the shallows, we never almost died, we simply almost lost everything and a boat. It was a physical ordeal, leaving us sore for days, and quite a test. I never can full explain the helplessness and naivety I felt when it happened. Not sure what to do, and figuring out there is nothing you can do. I couldn't even make proper suggestions at the time, not even sure how the boat worked. I now make a strong effort to learn to handle the boat myself, and know everything about it. I became so complacent with our roles, Dan as the driver, and me as the birder, that I never cared if I didn't know how the boat worked. That's not actually our roles, it was just the easiest ones playing to our strengths.

Since then, we gained two new boats, one 27 foot Carolina Skiff, and a 20 foot mud motor. Both doing very well at their respective roles. Our boat was given to another crew, where I heard they almost swamped it as well just trying to get it in the water. What a piece of junk

The houseboat chronicles

January 14-21, 2011

Pass-a-Loutre Wildlife Manangement Area. Pass-a-Loutre. Pass-a-Loutre. Pass-a-Loutre.

My fate had really been sealed. I'm not sure if going to any of the other destinations would have been as epic of a time in my life than this one. I feel very lucky for being in this opportunity. Lucky for more than the obvious reasons. This last week have really been a life changing and interesting time. It will be very hard to come out of this the same. I stand by the fact it has more to do with this assignment than the job itself.

Pass-a-Loutre WMA sits an hour boat ride south of Venice, La. Venice sits as the last town on the Mississippi River. Driving down from New Orleans, you follow the Mississippi River for an hour and a half, passing refineries and small towns, till you finally arrive in Venice. Outside the Venice Marina sits a sign announcing Venice as the best fishing town in the nation. It is very hard to argue with this statement. You will see more fish jump in one day here then in your entire life. They essentially never stop jumping, all times of the day, increasing in the evening.

The Mississippi River is a massive river. Truly Massive. Traveling all the way from Minnesota to the end of Louisiana. By the time it reaches Venice it is near a mile wide. The Mississippi transports an ungodly amount of sediment downriver, and over the millions of years has created most of eastern and southern Louisiana. This sediment carries nutrients and land building materials. If you look at the southeastern portion of Louisiana you are looking at the Mississippi River Delta. A delta is an alluvial fan shaped area where land is created from the mouth of a river. And that's where Pass-a-Loutre sits. The southeastern edge of the delta is a state controlled Wildlife Management Area. Most of the rest of the area is unsettled, except for a literal handful of hunting shacks. Most of the delta is uninhabitable, or very nearly. There are no roads, everything is accessible only by boat, to build something it has to be floated down river, and any TV has to be satellite. To get groceries you have to travel up river, then 30 miles to a decent grocery store.

And this is where I will be for the next month.

With my fellow tech, Dan Landgrebe, former park service employee. Dan was born in Bemidji, Minnesota. The very BEGINNING of the Mississippi. Yes, friends, he just traveled from the very first town on the Mississippi to the very last, and now lives at the literal end of the Mississippi. A feat few will every say they have accomplished.

I want you to google maps this. Find Venice, Louisiana and follow it till the river splits into three sections. The western most is called Southwest Pass, the middle is South Pass, and the east is Pass-a-Loutre. Now inbetween South Pass and Pass-a-Loutre is a small inlet called Dennis Pass. Just down Dennis Pass is where I live. It's the first and only house down Dennis Pass. If I'd have to guess it's address is probably 1 Dennis Pass, Pass-a-Loutre WMA, La.

The Pass-a-Loutre WMA is managed at this point. It has a small complex of buildings built right after Hurricane Katrina. While I call it an island, most of the land for 30 miles in all directions are kinda their own island. Here there are two passes on either side of the island, and two inlets leading in. The passes never connect, and there's two very narrow land bridges where the inlets end. The complex covers perhaps two acres of land. It contains one boat parking dock, one major dock, a maintenance building, boat house, an air boat house, a house boat, and a very nice headquarters that includes full industrial kitchen and bedrooms. I live on the house boat, which is really a double wide placed on a giant metal barge. While most of the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries workers live in the nice house, anybody not affiliated with the state are thrown into the boathouse. This includes any NRDA (National Resource Disaster Agency, this is a federal agency), and Entrix employees. We've already had one Entrix employee working NRDA stay here. So atleast we're all treated equal. Since the oilspill this house and been filled with atleast one group of people.

This leads me to why I feel fine saying all this. Where I am is no secret, and Entrix itself has been to this property and knows we are here. Infact, from here on out except extreme situations I will only be talking about what I do in my free time. I will say I enjoy what I do, it's very different from other things I've done and a fascinating area to be in.

Pass-a-Loutre blows Lumcon out of the water. While my mobility is even less than in Lumcon, the opportunities and untouched wilderness is greater. I'm surrounded by wilderness for 30 miles in every direction. Some nights tens of coyotes howl in every direction. Every 100 meters a new heron of the same species makes its home. I've seen three different species of heron standing next to each other. There are sounds all times of the day, that I have yet to identify. Ibis of every species fly over hourly. I've already seen 2 life birds, and seen so many uncommon species of birds it blows my mind. I know where at least three osprey territories are. Infact you see one osprey every Kilometer. Let me list some of the individual birds that make their home in the complex's 2 acres:

1 Great-blue Heron Adult and juvenile

1 Snowy egret

1 Great Egret

1+ White Ibis

1 American Bittern (yes this is a fact)

2-4 Brown Pelican

1 Common Snipe

1 Merlin

2 (possibly paired) Harriers

2 (paired) Belted Kingfishers

2+ Marsh Wrens

2 (probably paired) Mockingbirds

A troupe of Yellow-rumped Warblers

A troupe of Palm Warblers

A family of Nutria

A family of River Otters (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Tell me, how many of these do you see every day? I see almost all of these daily in my backyard.

Now let's include the animals I see daily while traveling around the delta for work.

Tri-colored Heron

Little Blue Heron

Glossy Ibis

Ahninga

Osprey

Peregrine Falcon (true as well)

Black Skimmer

Dolphins (atleast 10 a day)

I know I am tooting my own horn and bragging, but I don't care I am so freaking excited every day I go out. I have to. I just have to tell someone, or everyone.

The majority of the marsh in this area is Fragmities, which is a reed species almost twice as tall as any man. They encompass over 90% of the above ground plant biomass (my guess). It doesn't even need exposed land, creating its own marsh where you can't stand. Sometimes it breaks off and floats out to sea, still in a meter wide island.

The river delta creates a very unique situation where salt water and freshwater mix continuously. There's rumors you can catch Redfish in the middle of the water, and Bass on the edge. It is so rich that fish jump continuously in the inlet we're docked at. The river otters go nuts at night eating the fish, as do the Pelicans. At sea the Dolphins are a common sight, sometimes staying with you, but never coming within 10 meters. I wonder if this has to do with the rich fishing water that surround the delta.

Some of the inhabitants are very strange. There are two pelicans that never leave the island. Most pelicans have no trouble traveling many kilometers daily. These only move from one inlet to the other. They fish in the inlet we're docked at. They sleep near the house. They let you come to about 10 meters before flying off. Anytime they land, they land head first in the water, in a half dive.

I heard a rumor from one of the locals that these two pelicans were found covered in oil, cleaned up, and released here. Instead of flying off, they stayed, and never left. I understand that the rumors from locals aren't fact, but I will just say they act very strange.

When catching fish, Brown Pelicans do spectacular dives into the water. They don't do this when they land. I personally believe something happened to them, either the extremely toxic oil has affected their brains, or something happened from after being covered in oil (perhaps a crash). They are wonderful, very charismatic, and cute. But shouldn't be acting like this, even though our inlet seems to be a breeding water for fish. It could be as easy as them being conditioned to humans as well. I do hear they get fed scrapes by the locals. So this is possible.

Some of the human inhabitants are strange as well. The facility normal houses about 2-3 employees plus the manager and his wife. The employees stay here for two weeks, and then are forced to take a week off to, “get all that junk out of their system”. Most of the employees and visitors are country boys, and avid hunters. They all chew tobacco, and love shooting things. Suffice to say, staying in the boat house probably fits better than being in the house.

Me and Dan are starting to believe the isolation causes humans to behave strangely. The manager and his wife essentially don't leave the island. They don't take their breaks. They own another house, but haven't been to it in months. Imagine living on a 2 acre piece of land for months at a time. Only talking to the same 5 people. You watch news, but it doesn't affect you. You can't go anywhere. You can't exercise. You don't seen anything. You don't see the world evolving. You only meet one extreme group of people. It'd affect you right?

I've seen a few of the employees walking in circles, just to get exercise.

The manger and his wife exhibit extreme paranoia. They sway on their trust of us daily. Sometimes being very friendly, then very stand offish. They give us free reign of the house boat, then take it away without explanation. The complex is covered in light at night. Outdoor lights sit at every possible point, like a prison. At night the owner stands out on the balcony and flashes a spotlight back and forth, every 30 minutes.

And yet you sit at one of the safest locations in the country. Any possible thieves would be the ones sleeping in your house. Any war or none natural disaster would perhaps never find you. There is nothing for the coyotes to eat even if they came into the complex. Zombies might never even get to you. Plagues. Murders. Zero.

They have extreme short term memory issues, asking us 4 days in a row if we've signed the guestbook.

Maybe I'm making things up, but they act very strange. Hopefully with time these claims are all unfounded. That's probably the case anyway. They can be very nice at times. I just wish they'd stay that way.

The problem with this is the internet sits in the headquarters, which isn't a headquarters, it's a beautiful house. And getting on the internet means sitting in their kitchen or living room while they sit in it looking over your shoulder. They're not very inviting, becoming very surprised when we walk in asking to use the internet. Luckily I get a single bar of internet on my phone, and can check my facebook, mail, and weather with a little bit of difficulty. This keeps me pretty content. It's also why I can't update very often. The internet is by satellite, and I suspect because of this the upload had to be done through a telephone line. Meaning uploading pictures is extremely difficult. And with blogger taking long anyway to accomplish on a good connection, I won't even attempt it here. If you want to see pictures, I will upload them to Facebook. Which requires I resize all images by 75%, and upload individually. I have to use the 'simple uploader' which is more forgiving on slow connections.

There is pages more to say. But perhaps I'll continue later on this. For now, dear readers, this is what you get. I still have to tell you about what is simply called, “The Incident”.

I'm fairly positive I haven't said anything confidential.

Till we meet again.

Goodnight,

Matt

The spaceship that flies out of the marsh

January 11-13

I came in early evening on Monday, finding a cheap motel outside of Baton Rouge. The drive was uneventful and quite easy. With the next day I was so nervous I accidentally drove the wrong direction down I-10, and couldn't turn around till 12 miles later. If no one is familiar with the part of Louisiana, most of the area is swamp and exits have to be planned in advance, with many signs saying, “No Exit for 'x' miles”. Despite the error I arrived on LSU's campus nearly on time. The area around the campus is really cute and nice. I feel a little naive for expecting it to be beaten up and ghetto. I would later learn that most of the students don't find Baton Rouge to be all that great, but enjoy Layfette much more. It apparently has a good music scene and many festivals.

As per the usual, everyone in the room was quiet, and most of the morning was taken up with paperwork and online training for various things. Once afternoon hit we packed up the vans and cars, heading to Southeast Louisiana. We bought waders and wader boots at a Cabelas and ended the night at a place called LUMCON near Dulac, La. LUMCON (Louisiana University Marine Consortium) is a large marine research center in a very rural fish town, that jumps out of the marsh, “like a giant space-ship”. The state owns the facility, allowing all schools and state organizations to use it. The complex centers around a large tower that looks out across the bayou and marsh. There are about four arms coming from the tower that contain laboratories, dorms, and apartments. This center feel like Jester and contains every student amenity like washer dryer, TV, internet, lounges, and a volleyball court. During the summer, the facility is overrun with college students taking special courses, but in Winter was relatively empty. The only tenants were either faculty members or Entrix, the BP hired organization doing similar projects as us.

The center itself was very fascinating to walk around in, because it's a marine research nerve center. It was very boring because there's not much to do and hardly anywhere to explore. The rural fishing town contains houses on the canals and most of them are empty in the winter. The nearest restaurant is 20 miles north in Dulac. Luckily there were 10 of us, plus any Entrix employees that would gather in the lounge. When we weren't training we were joking in the lounge getting to know each other. All in all nothing to complain about, except the blistering cold. Not having lived in any sort of cold climates I knew quickly I'd have to adapt. While this part of Louisiana should have a similar climate as central Texas, an arctic cold front had just came through and the wind was blowing heavy most of the time we we're there. The high never reached higher than the low 40's and the wind was freezing.

The habitat was really nice with miles of tall marsh grass covering half the horizon. Egret's, Night-herons, and other wading birds cover every exposed wetland. This alone made me really excited. While driving in the vans, you could look out the window and find uncommon species easily. I have been feeling my love for herons and their allies rising as of recent.

As Thursday came, I was told I'd be staying at Lumcon, then was switched at the last minute to Pass-a-Loutre. Thus my fate was sealed. Friday afternoon I left Lumcon, perhaps never to see it again.

CSI: Daffy Duck edition

So while I have done a couple of animal related things in the past two months, they've already been shown on Facebook and you don't need a synopsis on them. Especially since time is short.

With that I will move on to the real topic. The last week has been insane. I did a phone interview, got the job, quit my current job, and now am leaving tomorrow morning. I'm back on the road, and I am back in the field.

The job is through LSU working with the US Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS). Since the BP oil spill this summer the USFWS has been running studies to get a scope of the damage caused to plants, animals, etc. This is the 10th such study, and focusing specifically on waterfowl (ducks and their cousins). The USFWS is using this as evidence for its upcoming court case with BP. They plan to sue BP, and this money would go directly back into USFWS funded ventures in the gulf restoration. Because of the scope of this disaster and the huge amount of money at stake, I will be forced on Monday to sign a confidentiality agreement. I am not legally allowed to talk about the protocol nor data found in this study until the court case is resolved. This could take upwards of 20 years. Emails, texts, are extremely forbidden, as are blogs. On this specific study, BP's own ecology team has refused to cooperate with us, and is running its own parallel study, further upping the dramatics.

What I do and can tell about this study is it will take place over 2 months in Eastern Louisiana. There are multiple sites which correlate to housing found right next to the sites. 2 of the 5 houses are accessible ONLY by boat. The sites include Marshes, beaches, and the open ocean. It's going to be really cold, especially on the ocean, and I've had to buy cold weather gear (most of which I wouldn't own living in Texas)

This is a fantastic opportunity for me, but will be alot of hard work. I thought working on Fort Hood was big, but this is gigantic. A scientific study supposed to be done in complete silence, in winter, in the remote parts of Louisiana, with billions of dollars at stake. I didn't make this up, but because I am one for the dramatic, it really excites me.

The project will be done at the end of February. After that I'll need to find something to do till April 25th, when my project in Tennessee starts. If I make enough money, April may be the perfect time for that train trip I was planning. We'll see.

Just a note, I want to take plenty of pictures, but they will have to be censored. Most will have to be taken on my off time as not to cause any controversy. This contrasts with Fort Hood and Johnson City where I could take pictures at work of anything.

Wish me luck.

Matt