Life in a Stony Landscape

Share:
Come spring, the Petrified Forest National Park is abuzz with critters and new plants.

Featured in the March 2003 Issue of Arizona Highways

Though, the sun drives away the chill, accompanied by ever warmer breezes that stir the blooming evening primroses, Indian paintbrush, mariposa lilies, sunflowers, snakeweed, rabbit brush, buckwheat, peppergrass and salt bush that line the park's roads and trails.

The animals begin stirring, too, and, as the warmth comes to the land, you're likely to find a roadrunner waiting to race, a turkey vulture floating lazily along on thermal winds, a tarantula scurrying across the ancient ocean floor, and perhaps even a porcupine stretching out its spiny back and pondering the day's agenda.

In all but deep winter, Gunnison's prairie dog (Cynomys gunnisoni)-one of five prairie dog species in the United States-emerges as one of Petrified Forest's most visible denizens, though its population has been diminished due to the ravages of bubonic plague in decades past. Prairie dogs number few enough just about everywhere in their formerly broad range, but within the national park they find hospitality in a natural grassland unbroken by fences and undisturbed by grazing, a place that's ideally suited to their kind.

Weighing 2 to 4 pounds, a good size as these little rodents go, the C. gunnisoni take their hibernation seriously, disappearing below ground at the first sign of cold weather and there going about the business of producing the next year's batch of young. In early spring, when the pups, just weeks old, emerge from underground with their parents, their colonies become antic playgrounds full of "little heads popping up everywhere, busily going from mound to mound," as former park Chief of Interpretation Tessy Shirakawa puts it.

Of the six established colonies within the national park, three are easily accessible by visitors from the main road. The first, and largest colony, lives just off Exit 311 on Interstate 40, at the park's northern entrance. The colony numbers a few hundred individuals, though just how many depends on the severity of winter and other environmental factors.

Other prairie dog colonies, also called coteries, lie just beyond Long Logs, near the southern entrance to the park, and at Newspaper Rock, which stands at the center of the park and commands a fine view of the Puerco River valley and the oddly shaped rock formations called The Tepees. Extensively studied by wildlife biologists, these prairie dogs are inquisitive and even friendly, and most seem to have no particular fear of humans, but visitors are warned not to feed or touch them or any wildlife in the park, to avoid the transmission of disease from one species to the other and to help ensure that the animals do not become dependent on humans and lose the ability to fend for themselves.

Find a PRAIRIE DOG, and a GOLDEN EAGLE likely lurks nearby...

Find a prairie dog, and a golden eagle likely lurks nearby, hoping to find a convenient meal. Fearsome from a small rodent's point of view and impressive by any measure, with their 8-foot wingspans and sharp talons, the eagles patrol the ground throughout the park, but they're especially numerous at Long Logs and Newspaper Rock. Joining the eagles are other skilled hunters; in the morning and evening, prime time for chasing game, the sky comes alive with American kestrels, prairie falcons and red-tailed hawks, while the ground empties of all but the most incautious mice, pocket gophers, kangaroo rats, white-tailed antelope squirrels, cottontail rabbits and prairie dogs.

A less vigorous hunter, the raven makes its home throughout the park as well. In spring, it seems, these noisy birds become even more vocal, squawking clamorously as if to announce the season-but, more likely, to demand food from visitors, both scarce in the lean months of winter. It's no accident that these highly intelligent, social birds gather at just the spots where humans do, at roadside picnic tables and parking lots leading to heavily visited places such as the Agate Bridge and Crystal Forest. It may take a heart as hard as petrified wood to refuse their croaked entreaties for food, but don't feel sorry for them: With spring's arrival of new insects, the birds do not lack for meals.

Other avian species add their songs, whistles and wingbeats to the air: here a northern mockingbird, there a bluebird, a brightly colored western tanager or kingbird, or a chattering house finch. Seasoned bird-watchers will have added these species to their life lists long ago, but Petrified Forest draws plenty of birders just the same,

for here spring also finds a dazzling parade of migratory species passing through the park. Birds such as Virginia rails, herons, egrets, geese, ibises and even pelicans make their way to better-watered and greener places far away.

Year-round residents, the deerlike pronghorns, often (but mistakenly) called "antelope," feed on sagebrush and grasses that grow abundantly on the plain alongside the Puerco River. If you catch sight of a pale blur against the multicolored rocks of the park, chances are good that you're seeing a pronghorn. With a distinctive white rump and curled horns, Antilocapra americana clocks in as the fastest land animal in North America, with speeds up to 70 miles an hour and covering the ground in 27-foot leaps at full run.

Whether on the go or at rest, pronghorns are easy to pick out in the park's open terrain. Look for them browsing along the railroad track that crosses the northern end of the park-or, if it's raining or windy, in the gullies and washes that comb the river valley, where they like to shelter. Lithodendron Wash, which branches off from the northwestern end of the park, proves a Good place to find them in such weather. Smaller herds graze below Blue Mesa and Agate Mesa farther down the road.

As befits a place famous for its long-ago population of dinosaurs, Petrified Forest has a varied population of reptiles, and spring finds them emerging from dens and burrows to greet the warming sun. Collared lizards scamper about everywhere you look; side-blotched lizards race along ancient fallen logs; and striped whiptails, seemingly as fast as pronghorns, add another blur to the view.

The kingsnake, with its alternating bands of black and white, light brown or yellow, sometimes goes in pursuit of another inhabitant, the Western rattlesnake. The kingsnake seems to think nothing of its fellow snakes venom and will enjoy a meal of rattler when the opportunity presents itself. If you're patient and lucky, you may see one more of the park's venomous reptiles, the shy and altogether rare Hopi rattlesnake, a sensitive species in more ways than one-so do be sure to give it a wide berth. Rare, too, remains the badger, a creature honored in Zuni, Navajo and Hopi art but not often seen in the wild. "Even most full-time, year-round park employees have yet to see" the very uncommon Taxidea taxus, says Chief of Resource Management Karen Beppler-Dorn. Still, good things come to those who wait, and park rangers say you might spot one of these slow-movDorn. Still, good things come to those who wait, and park rangers say you might spot one of these slow-moving animals near Blue Mesa, where several sightings have been recorded in the last few years. Badgers also have been seen occasionally at Newspaper Rock and along the Painted Desert rim just outside the north visitors center. When night falls and most human visitors leave, Petrified Forest becomes "so quiet you can hear the grass grow-and can hear every bark and yip a coyote makes," says Shirakawa. Skinny and hungry after the long winter, coyotes are abundant indeed, as are the black-tailed jackrabbits after which they chase. Plentiful, too, are the Western spotted and the striped skunks, shy of humans and well equipped to ward off danger with their awful perfume. The nighttime sky is the province of horned and long-eared owls, which take over the work of patrolling the air from the now-resting hawks and eagles, and of bats, which greet the spring in astonishing numbers. Nesting in caves, rock overhangs and even the garages of park employees, the California myotis, small-footed myotis, pallid and Western pip-istrelle species live in the park year-round. They join the occasional little brown, hoary, Brazilian free-tailed and silver-haired varieties, all of which feast on insects that rise from trees and grasses as the ground cools.

Spring in Petrified Forest-a fine season in an unforgettable place, a time announced by a tuneful symphony of whirring wings, of canine howls, of hooting owls and barking prairie dogs. Listen closely, and you may just hear the keening of Triassic ghosts as well, longing for the days when dinosaurs ruled this land. All ADDITIONAL READING: In the best-selling guidebook Travel Arizona II, seasoned travel writers and Arizona Highways photographic contributors describe where and how to create unique Arizona adventures. To order ($15.95), call (800) 543-5432; or order online at arizonahighways.com.

"I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow. Which, if my math is correct, gives me tonight off." *

WEIRD Placenames in ARIZONA Unusual Perspective

Among the world's largest telescopes is one located in the city of Sells, which means people as far away as Page better remember to draw their blinds.

As a frequent traveler to the United States, I had become accustomed to the slower driving speeds you enjoy, compared with British and European motorists. However, a few years ago when speed limits were liberalized in the United States, I became confused as motorists were blatantly ignoring the posted speed signs.

In a diner in Sierra Vista. I met two traffic policemen and sought to clarify just what the speed limits were. The reply was simple: "Sir, if a lot of cars are overtaking you, then you're driving too slow but, if you are overtaking a lot of cars, then you are driving too fast."

CAUGHT CHEATING

I was teaching a class in Social Issues in Education. I had declared the

EARLY-DAY ARIZONA

"You, there, in the overalls," shouted the crossexamining lawyer. "How much are you paid for telling untruths?" "Less than you are," retorted the witness, "or you'd be in overalls, too."

football team's chief quarterback "ineligible for cheating." The coach came in, furious, and demanded I reinstate his quarterback.

"Sorry, I think he cheated on the exam," I said. "My Phi Beta Kappa student is seated right beside your football player. The Phi Beta Kappa got the first nine questions correct, and on the 10th one he wrote, 'I do not know.' "Your quarterback got the first nine questions correct, but on the 10th one he wrote, 'I don't know either.'"

TIME MANAGEMENT

I grew up on a working cattle ranch in southeastern Arizona during the Depression years of the 1930s. With three uncles in the same business, I noticed at an early age how they all usually made their work easier by trying different ways of doing things. Mosby Wilkerson, the oldest of the four brothers, had just installed a new propane-powered Servel refrigerator, and he was telling me how cold it kept the milk from their Jersey cow. When he offered me a drink, I expected him to skim the cream and pour the milk in two glasses. Instead, he reached in the cupboard for two lengths of hollow macaroni, handed me one and said, "No point in disturbing the cream; just run this to the bottom and drink all you want."

LIZARD TRAINING

In one of our family campouts in the high desert country of northern Arizona, the grown-ups relaxed after supper to watch the sunset while the children ran around exploring. My 4-year-old grandson, Robby, came running up to us, hands outstretched, squealing with excitement.

"Look, I caught a lizard!" He showed us his striped prize and ran off again to join the other children. Several minutes later he was back, empty-handed, to announce with shining eyes that he had trained his lizard. "Really!" I said. "How did you do that?"

"Well," Robby said with proud satisfaction, "I put him on the ground and watch him, and whatever he does, that's just what I want him to do."

TO SUBMIT HUMOR

Send your jokes and humorous Arizona anecdotes to Humor, Arizona Highways, 2039 W. Lewis Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85009 or e-mail us at [email protected]. We'll pay $50 for each item used. Please include your name, address and telephone number with each submission.

Reader's Corner

I always make a wish when I see a falling star. Of course, the wish is usually that it doesn't fall on me.

Send us your jokes about meteors and shooting stars, and we'll pay you $50 for each one we publish.