A pair of acorn woodpeckers performs maintenance on their pantry holes.
The destination for my ride was Mt. Tam, where I wanted to check up on a third trail camera I set up last week on a somewhat rickety foundation. Although my mind was making a beeline to the cam, my body reminded me to enjoy the journey.
In the Presidio I rode past a bunch of fallen eucalyptus leaves floating in a puddle of fog-drip created by their own trees. Ordinarily I'd have kept on going, but I figured "what's the rush," and went back to snap a picture.
Because I make the trip fairly often I don't always feel like stopping along the way to record my sightings in pictures, but it feels good to open that door once in a while. I stopped next to watch a handful of brown pelicans dive into Richardson Bay, but they were too far away to photograph. Nearby, a group of shorebirds was foraging on a little bump of marshland that juts into the bay, a flock of maybe twenty greater yellowlegs.
Later I stopped to watch some black-necked stilts in their usual pools along Coyote Creek, then pedaled up the fog-drippy Shoreline Highway and into the thick of the fog billowing over the ridge along Panoramic Highway. There was sun and fog near Pantoll Campground, but the conditions weren't producing crepuscular rays the way they did last week.
By the time I reached Mountain Home Inn I was surprised to see that I still had four of five bars left on my e-bike battery. I've been riding in "battery off" mode on flat sections and downhills, plus I'd just inflated my tires before leaving home, but I was still surprised. By the time I'd gone all the way up to Rock Spring and part of the way out West Ridgecrest, though, I was down to two bars. Clearly, each bar does not represent twenty percent of the battery's juice. Anyway, I carry a spare battery for the ride home.
I was glad to find that the trail camera I'd lashed to a somewhat rickety branch was still standing. I'd prepared myself to find it in a heap on the ground, perhaps even blown over by a strong wind. What I didn't find out until I got the memory card home was that it even survived having a gray squirrel pounce on it.
Almost all the best captures came from that cam, which I set up in a ravine where my other cams had previously caught a descending bobcat. Naturally, the bobcat this time ascended the ravine, so we never see its face. Better luck next week.
Eucalyptus leaves lying in a pool of their own fog-drip.
A greater yellowlegs forages amidst the pickleweed along Richardson Bay.
A black-necked stilt forages along the Coyote Creek marsh.
Siesta with black-necked stilt and snowy egret.
I managed to find a fogbow along a steep flank of Mt. Tam, but the conditions never gelled enough to create a brocken specter.
It's been a long time since I enjoyed making fire sticks, and as I was recently clearing out some old stuff I don't use anymore I decided to place a few of my hearths and spindles in secret spots within the Rock Spring picnic area, hopefully to be found by someone who takes an interest in them.
Both the hearth and spindles are made from buckeye wood I collected not too far away (but many years ago). These can be used to make a bow-drill fire, but you'd still need a couple other items to get there. I guess it should come as no surprise that you can actually buy a bow-drill kit on Amazon, but to make your own kit and actually get fire with it is a wonderful experience. I learned this and many other interesting ways to appreciate nature at Tom Brown's Tracker School and Headwaters Outdoor School.
The woodpeckers appeared to be pecking at existing holes in the acorn granary, or pantry, possibly allowing them to more easily accommodate the big acorns maturing on nearby oaks and tanoaks.
A western fence lizard takes in the sun with a wall of fog behind him.
View toward Stinson Beach along West Ridgecrest Road.
The tide was high as I headed home, and the black-necked stilts of the Coyote Creek marsh had gathered together for siesta.
Meanwhile, the snowy egret was still hunting, swishing its front foot in the mud in the hope of spooking prey into showing themselves.
