We finished up the days work at 10pm. Or we atleast called it quits, more sample analysis in the morning... I should be editing my first paper for publication, but since my brain is fried, screw it...so I'll take a few to give some updates.
Two of the Principal Investigators arrived just over a week ago, and since the transition its been go go go! We have been racing to all of our regular sample sites (5 total: Vortac, Shelter 7, Ice cliffs, North River Bridge and Tuto) and Ron has employed my help with some GIS work. Most days start when we wake up around 7 or 8am. You can usually find one of us in the lab, in pajamas, calibrating the pH meter or sterilizing buckets, with a coffee cup just an arms reach away...we drink A LOT of coffee. Many of the past days have seen me in the lab until 9pm. and tonight 10pm...did I mention we drink A LOT of coffee? Cest la vie! I think the bio-team will have samples just finishing up at midnight tonight.
...the reality is, I really can't complain too much... today was an Ice Cliff day. The Ice cave we sample from has become a proper slot canyon. The glacial runoff cut through the ice and permafrost, creating a snaking chasm that exposes the junction between basal ice and glacial till. The water is low enough that you can walk into the canyon with rubber boots. The ice walls are vertically striated with ribbons of ice that protrude from the surface. These form as melt water drips from the surface, taking a tortuous yet consistent path down the vertical ice. Each drip freezes in layers along the thin ridges slowly building them up. Some of these ridges extend 4 to 5 inches out from the wall! Beneath the ridges and a 1 inch vernier of crystal clear melt-water ice is the true glacial ice. The glacial ice glows a faint, bright blue. Horizontal bands from thousands of years of snow and ice deposition meander their way along the water sculpted walls. In one section you have to double over to pass beneath two lobes of ice before the canyon opens up again. In the back of the cave a waterfall drops 3 feet into a small plunge pool. Above the falls the canyon becomes a proper ice cave, a bright blue tunnel extending deeper into the ice sheet...I'd venture into the tunnel, but this requires a combination of waterproof footwear and crampons...so, mom, its ok, I just don't have the gear...yet. ;)...ice features are quickly climbing my "most beautiful places" list.
Highlight numero dos! A couple weeks ago I held a peregrine falcon fledgling in my bare hands. I got a little talon action, we're blood sisters now. But really, it was an amazing experience. The "bird guys" (ornithologists if you want to be technical) invited us to join them on thier last mission of the season: retrieve, measure and band the falcon fledglings nesting on the cliffs of Dundas Mt. One of the guys rapelled down to the falcon nest and sent the birds up, one by one, in a yellow haul bag. Mama and Papa peregrine were freaking out, flying circles around the cliffs. It was a non stop racket from the time we approached the cliff top, until we left. The fledglings were estimated at 25 days old. White and fluffy, they crouched in a backpack corral, staring up at us with piercing black eyes and screeching at the top of their lungs. The two females looks legitimately pissed, the male looked sheepish...just saying :). The bird guys measure the fledgling wings and legs, attach a stylish, numbered ankle bracelet, take a blood sample and pluck a few feathers. The blood will be used for isotope analysis to get information on the birds' diet. Once all the research was done we all got a chance to hold one of the fledglings. The fastest animal in the world feels fragile in your hands. Beneath the soft, puffy feathers and tough chick attitude are thin, delicate bones and sinews. Also of note: Peregrine breath is distinct...it reaks. And, David, birds do fart. They would let one slip after a torrent of angry screeching. It was pretty hilarious.
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