Flicker nuisances somewhat offset by insect consumption

Living with wildlife takes on a new meaning when they begin to share your house. Ants and insects commonly infiltrate into a house and can be tolerated, but a larger, nosier animal can be annoying. 

Anyone who has had a northern flicker drumming on their house siding knows how annoying flickers can become. If the flicker is like Goldilocks and finds your house “just right” it may even excavate a nest cavity in your siding. 

Typically northern flickers excavate cavities in the weak wood of dead or dying trees but with abundant man-made structures available, they also nest in aging utility poles, fence posts or house siding. Their stout beak chisels a six- to eighteen-inch chamber for eggs and both male and female excavate the cavity. If in house siding, the flicker will often pull out insulation to create the chamber.

The round entrance hole to the nest differs from feeding holes. When searching for food on wood siding, flickers often leave dime-sized holes. As annoying to home owners as flickers may seem, they are a huge asset for the number of insects they eat. 

A male red-shafted flicker searches for insects on a house

Northern flickers are the most terrestrial of all North American woodpeckers partially because they forage for ants. Biologists have found over 2,000 ants in the stomachs of some northern flickers. They eat more ants than any other bird species in North America.

They use their long tongue that is covered with a sticky saliva to collect ants scurrying above ground or in subterranean tunnels. Northern flickers also forage in trees for beetles, wasps, caterpillars and insect larvae. In the fall and winter, they also eat seeds and fruits.

When searching for insects on wooden surfaces, they often tap the surface, then look and listen for insect movement. Upon hearing or seeing an insect, the flicker will chisel away until the insect is caught. 

A flicker frequenting the siding on a house and leaving dime-sized holes may indicate an insect problem. Eliminating the insect problem may be easier than shooing away the flickers.

Even if your house isn’t a good food source, it may be a good drumming site in spring. Northern flickers drum to establish a territory, attract a mate and communicate with a mate. Flickers will return to the same house every year to drum if the location was previously successful. 

Flickers also mate for life and return to the same area to breed each year. Adults are highly site-faithful and return to a particular breeding site every year, which may include a house. 

Flickers in northern latitudes typically only produce one brood a year. After the young birds fledge in July, homeowners can seal the hole in their house siding to prevent other animals from using the nest cavity. To keep northern flickers around for their insect eating capabilities, keep a few dead trees standing or provide nest boxes specifically designed for flickers to lure them away from your house.

One of the benefits of flickers is their creation of homes for secondary cavity nesters, such as bluebirds, wrens, nuthatches and chickadees. However, covering up nesting holes in house siding is important if a homeowner doesn’t want to live with any wildlife over the winter. 

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on July 25, 2013.

Mountain Goat in the Selkirks

Today I saw my first mountain goat in the Selkirk Mountains. I knew that a few mountain goats lived in the Selkirk Mountains and I've been wanting to see one for several years. I just had to be in the right place at the right time.

Mountain goat in the Selkirk Mountains

Billy goat headed to the shady cliffs

The billy goat's summer coat is significantly thinner than its winter coat. However, this goat was still seeking the shade in the almost 90 degree temperatures.

Billy goat resting on a hot summer day

Happy Hiking!

Long Canyon Parker Ridge hike filled with surprises

Four miles and 52 leg-burning switchbacks to reach the trail junction below the ridge. A few more switchbacks through the transitioning forest and I’d be on Parker Ridge. Gaining the elevation from the bottom of Long Canyon to the top of Parker Ridge was no walk in the park but worth every step. 

Old growth cedar and hemlock in Long Canyon

The longest, uninterrupted trail system in the Bonners Ferry Ranger District traverses Long Canyon and Parker Ridge for 33.8 miles of never-know-around-the corner surprises.  

Edible surprises began before the Long Canyon trail even rounded into Long Canyon as tiny strawberries bursting with flavor dotted the trailside, followed by juicy huckleberries. The huckleberries turned greener as we progressed farther into the canyon with the plants just beginning to bloom on Parker Ridge.

Boardwalk through a muddier section of Devil's Club in Long Canyon

Thanks to a trail crew, the trail was freshly sawn out which made hiking easy. In prior years, the trail crew had constructed boardwalks across the muddier sections of the canyon. 

A log jam on Canyon Creek enabled a quick first creek crossing. The second and third creek crossings couldn’t be completed quickly enough in the near freezing water. Trading hiking shoes for sandals, the frigid water quickly numbed my feet as I tried to find steady footing without feeling in my feet. Stumbling onto the opposite bank, I waited for the excruciating pain to disappear. 

Canyon Creek runs high enough in the spring to create impressive log jams

Also leaving footprints on the beach of the second crossing was a large grizzly bear, luckily in the opposite direction we were hiking. Other animals left sign on the trail, including moose, deer, a coyote and a small black bear.  

A mule deer even left tracks on the top of Parker Peak, the highest named peak in the American Selkirks at 7,691 feet according to the GPS (the highest is an unnamed ridge at 7,709 feet). Remnants of the old fire lookout also lay on the peak with a commanding view of the entire Selkirk range, Purcells and Cabinet Mountains. Clifty and Hall Mountain looked small.

View of the Selkirk Mountains from Parker Peak

The person manning the fire lookout enjoyed a view but I wouldn’t want to be there during a thunderstorm. Being on a peak also meant water wasn’t close at hand. The person probably had to hike down to Parker Lake (nearly two miles one-way) or melt snow from the ridges like we did while it lasted. Near the summit, someone long ago moved the boulders in a boulder field aside to create a trail bed for easier access to the summit. No small feat and probably done for the pack animals carrying the materials and supplies for the lookout built in 1939. The benchmark on the peak was placed in 1924 and no trail led to the summit at that time.

Northeast face of 7445' (unnamed peak in Selkirks) from Parker Ridge

Rounding the corner after descending the peak, a hidden avalanche chute brimmed with blooming bear grass. Hundreds of blooms stood tall in the treeless swath below a nearly vertical granite slab and continued down to Parker Creek. Never had I seen so much beargrass in bloom. Beargrass bloomed on other portions of the trail, particularly along the switchbacks, but not in the same magnitude. 

Beargrass blooming in avalanche chute

Also in surprising quantities before reaching Parker Peak were whitebark pine trees. More than just a lone whitebark pine here and there, the entire ridgeline was a whitebark pine forest of good-sized trees. After Parker Peak, alpine larch and spruce joined the whitebark pine forest, then lodgepole pine. Closer towards the valley, the forest turned to open lodgepole pine with huckleberry brush and blooming lupine. 

Whitebark pine forest on Parker Ridge

Over one thousand feet below in Long Canyon, mature and old growth cedar and hemlock dominated. Undergrowth varied from moss to ferns and devil’s club. Transitioning through the different forest types and guessing what was coming next kept the trip full of surprises—including guessing the number of switchbacks to the ridge. 

Descending Parker Ridge into the Kootenai Valley

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on July 18, 2013.

Golden-mantled ground squirrels often mistaken for chipmunks

Scampering among a rock pile on a high-alpine ridge, the golden-mantled ground squirrel stops to survey its surroundings from the highest rock. 

At first glance, the golden-mantled ground squirrel may look like an over-sized chipmunk and there are similarities. The golden-mantled ground squirrel and the chipmunk have the same stripes on their backs and sides but the stripes do not continue onto the face of the ground squirrel. The ground squirrel’s reddish brown head, shoulders and underside account for the name golden-mantled. 

Unlike other ground squirrels that assume an upright posture, the golden-mantled ground squirrel either remains on all four or sits on its haunches to manipulate food. 

Golden-mantled ground squirrel

Yellow pine chipmunk

Golden-mantled ground squirrels eat a variety of food. They consume fungi, plants, fruits, seeds, insects, nestling birds and eggs, small mammals and carrion. Whitebark pine seeds are an important food source for the ground squirrels. 

Consuming a diet high in seeds in the fall enables the golden-mantled ground squirrel to hibernate more successfully. Researchers have found that when golden-mantled ground squirrels consume foods high in polyunsaturated fatty acids, such as seeds, they enter hibernation sooner, maintain a lower body temperature during hibernation and sleep in longer stretches (they wake up periodically during hibernation). Golden-mantled ground squirrels that eat fewer seeds tend to enter hibernation later and exhibit a higher mortality during hibernation.

To survive the long winters, golden-mantled ground squirrels put on a layer of fat to fuel their bodies while they hibernate. Their bodies slow down to the point of only needing one breath a minute and five heart beats a minute 

Golden-mantled ground squirrels prepare for the food scarcity in spring by stockpiling some food in their burrows. They stuff seeds and fruits in their cheek pouches to carry back to their burrow or carry grass in their mouths. Grass is also used to line their nesting chamber.

Their burrows can be up to 100 feet long and contain several branches and entrances. Unlike some other burrowing animals, golden-mantled ground squirrels leave no sign at their entrances—no scat or mounds of dirt. The entrances are typically well-hidden under a shrub, rock or log in open woodlands, brushy forest edges, mountain meadows or rocky slopes bordering alpine or subalpine meadows. 

The ground squirrel also maintains small burrows (called refuge burrows or bolt holes) throughout its one- to two-acre home range for use in emergencies. Golden-mantled ground squirrels forage at a distance from their burrows and rely on their quickness and agility to run back to their burrows to escape danger.

Golden-mantled ground squirrels tend to be quiet except to sound an alarm call when in danger. Their high-pitched call or trill warns of predators, such as raptors, coyotes, foxes, bobcats, skunks and weasels. When other animals emit an alarm call, like a marmot, golden-mantled ground squirrels respond by looking around or scurrying to their burrow. 

Other golden-mantled ground squirrels in the area may hear the alarm call and respond appropriately; however, they are solitary creatures. 

A mother with young (average five per litter) is the only time golden-mantled ground squirrels spend an extended period of time together. As the young grow, they play outside the burrow together until they are old enough to find their own territory. 

Golden-mantled ground squirrels tend to be more active in early morning and late afternoon during the summer. They avoid the midday heat by being underground in their burrows. 

When cooler temperatures prevail, golden-mantled ground squirrels perch on high stumps or rocks within their territory to bask in the sun’s heat and to keep a lookout for predators or intruding neighbors. 

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on July 11, 2013.

Toad warts not contagious, just toxic

Movement in the garden soil caught my eye as I was preparing to plant seeds. Larger than the spiders, grasshoppers and other insects I had already encountered, I inched closer and found a sand-covered toad. Digging with its back feet, the western toad was shimmying backwards into the soil.

The sand didn’t cover up all of the toad’s varying-sized warts. The large bump behind the eyes, called the parotoid gland, that is unique to toads was clearly visible. The prominent parotoid gland secretes a milky substance that is toxic to predators. 

Toxic and foul-smelling substances are secreted from a toad's warts

Bitter and sticky, the toxin causes a predator’s mouth to tingle or feel numb.   Contradictory to popular belief, the toxin secreted from the warts won’t give people warts. The toxin is meant to deter predators but some animals still eat toads, including garter snakes, raccoons, ravens, crows and coyotes. When threatened, toads will also puff up to become harder to swallow, urinate and/or secrete a foul-smelling secretion from their warts.

With their quick, sticky tongue, toads are stealthy predators themselves. Adult toads eat flying insects, spiders, crayfish, dragonflies, ants and earthworms. Tadpoles feed on aquatic plants and algae. 

Amphibians, including toads, are the only vertebrate to undergo metamorphosis, which is the transformation from an immature form to an adult form through distinct stages. Both frogs and toads lay eggs in the water, with the main difference being toad eggs are laid in strands and frog eggs are laid in clusters. 

On average, a female western toad can produce 12,000 eggs in a single clutch but more than 99 percent of those eggs won’t survive to become adults. Frog and toad eggs are individually encased in a jelly-like substance.

Western toad eggs hatch into tadpoles and then they metamorphose into toadlets (miniature adults) in six to eight weeks. Several changes occur between the tadpole and toadlet stage. 

The most noticeable difference is that tadpoles grow legs and absorb their tail back into their body to take on the adult form. Less noticeable is how they breathe. Living in the water tadpoles breathe through gills. During metamorphosis, the tadpoles grow lungs and absorb their gills. 

A toad doesn’t breathe rhythmically like other mammals, including humans. Instead, toads only breathe with their lungs when they are active. When they are not active, they can absorb enough oxygen through their skin to meet their oxygen demands. 

Toads are more active at night in the summer because of the cooler temperatures. Even though toads are cold-blooded like fish, turtles and snakes and need the sun to warm their muscles, too much heat can be detrimental. 

During hot, summer days, toads seek refuge in animal burrows, under logs and leaf litter, in rock crevices, or by burying themselves in the soft soil. Tubercles on their hind feet (yellow bumps) aid them in digging holes. 

The yellow bumps on a toad's foot help them dig holes.

Unlike frogs, toad feet lack webbing and toe pads. A frog’s strong, long legs and webbed hind feet aid in leaping and swimming, but the short hind legs of a toad lend more to walking and small hops. 

Dark pads on the toad’s thumbs distinguish males from females. The thumb pads help the males cling to females while mating.

During mating season, toads return to their tadpole habitat of shallow water with sandy bottoms to mate. In winter toads dig to a location below frostline to hibernate. The rest of the year, toads live in forests and grasslands where food and moisture is abundant, including my garden. 

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on July 4, 2013.