Day 191
Sometimes, when I walk across the dam and look down at the spillway, today with very little water spilling due to the little snowpack, long summer ahead, and likely drought conditions……I wonder how many cameras and cell phones have lost their lives when dropped over this edge. It can’t be insignificant. Although there was nobody else on the dam in the heat of the day, I’ve seen countless hands through the bars over the spillway, precariously trying to get a good shot when the water is roaring below….I’ve taken more than a few of those myself.
Particularly when the water is spilling at a high volume, which is not today.
Today the water is spilling only as little as is required to provide fish passage to the hatchery down-river. Looking at the lake you would think things are in good shape; the lake is full. But if you look up at the mountains you would notice something that would (or should) make you think again.
There is virtually no snow.
This lake is fed by rain water and snow melt. There are a few small lakes beyond view that also hold some water and can be used to replenish the main reservoir, but those too are fed by rain and snow melt. When the winter had significantly below average snowpack, and the rain is slowing down in frequency, and the thermometer is heating up…it gets worrisome.
On my hike in the heat of the noonday sun, I did a loop of the canyon, which took me up and over the dam and then back into the (relatively speaking) cooler air of the forest, I couldn’t help but focus on the very large number of grey skeletons, everywhere I look. Two parks staff were taking inventory along some of the trails and we exchanged commentary on the dry and dangerous state of the park.
It’s scary to think that all it would take is an absently flicked cigarette butt and this forest could ignite. I never thought that would ever be the case; we (used to) live in a rainforest.
It’s unsettling to think that we live 300 metres from the edge of this tinderbox. I think about those situations where firestorms took communities out and suddenly I realize that I live in one also now. I never thought about fire planning, but I think we need to start making a worst case scenario plan.
In other news…..when I was leaving the hatchery today, the person on standby for the night took me out to the aeration tower to see a massive moth (like almost the size of one’s hand) that was still unfurling its last wing. A giant silkmoth. It felt a bit like a race for it to be ready for takeoff…as the baking sun beat down on it. I hope it takes flight when the cooler evening gives it some cover.
