Kelseya

Kelseya looks like a cross between moss and bonsai. A closer look reveals tiny leaf clusters from whose centers the flowers bloom.

I like to think of myself as a flexible person, open to spontaneous adventure. But Facebook Memories reminds me that in regard to certain things, I am pretty much a creature of habit. For at least four of the last five years, Ken and I have made the hike to the top of Flatiron in the last week of May to search for blooming Kelseya. We knew that we were probably going to be too early this year because of the long winter and cool spring, and we were right. The flowers are just beginning to form and will probably be at their peak in another 10 days to two weeks. Unfortunately our calendar is pretty jammed for the next few weeks so we decided to make the trek anyway. 

Because of the location of this particular patch of flowers, it is not easy to simply say we will be back another day. Thanks to the generosity of our neighbor in allowing us to park in his back field, we were able to do the trip in about 5 hours. Although there is no public access, we can actually hike directly from our place but it adds another difficult five miles onto an already tough eight mile hike. After parking the car, the first mile is a fairly flat walk across the prairie but then you bushwhack, occasionally catching a game trail, to the top, climbing approximately 2500' over the next three miles. 

This plant is just beginning to form its beautiful red flowers.When in full bloom each flower will measure approx. 1/4" in diameter.

 It is hard to describe to anyone the sense of awe that comes when you reach the top of the dolomite uplift and discover about an acre of land blanketed with Kelseya. There are certainly areas where you can see this amazing and unique member of the rose family without expending quite this much energy but I have never seen such a vast and healthy Kelseya garden anywhere else. The plant is endemic to the Central Rocky Mountains and grows at about 7500' on limestone. It is the only species in the genus Kelseya in the rose family.

 Looking southeast from the top gives a view of Heart Mountain and the Clarks Fork River. The coolness of the day made for comfortable hiking and less haze in the distance.

Another surprise discovery was this patch of Alpine Clematis growing from a crack in a limestone wall.

I was photographing this Northern Flicker in a tree when Ken came over the ridge and spooked him. The sun caught his wings as he flew.

On our way to the back field we saw a pair of Magpies dive-bombing something in a pile of rock. When I got out of the car to see what they were harassing I discovered this Long-tailed Weasel staring back at me. 

 At certain elevations the Shooting Stars are in their prime.

The final image is a seven shot pano looking to the northwest from the top, along the Beartooth Front.  It is easy to see why this is such a wildlife corridor in the winter months as the animals retreat to lower elevations from the snowy peaks. The Forest Service is considering allowing a four-wheeler trail all along this stretch, a move I believe would be disastrous for wintering wildlife.

Kits will be Kits

I am so grateful for friends who not only appreciate and respect wildlife but call me when they see something special! I received an email from a longtime friend informing me that they had a fox den under their barn and asking if I wanted to photograph the kits. It took about half a second for me to respond with an excited "YES!"

 Once I arrived the next evening I was shown the area of the den and told that they thought there were  five kits. Then I was left alone to see what I could capture. I had my small blind with me and I set it up outside the fence so I was peeking through. It was incredibly uncomfortable and after two hours of trying to stay relatively motionless I finally had the opportunity to photograph one brave kit who ventured out of the den. The good news was that it was pretty clear the young fox had no idea I was there. Between the direction of the wind and the blind, I seemed to be invisible although he did perk up his ears each time I clicked the shutter.

I decided to call it a night and return with a better plan a couple days later.

 When I came back the second time I took a few more minutes getting set up in a better location where I could be more comfortable. Almost immediately after pulling the blind over me I heard a loud noise and turned to see two cows and a horse watching with obvious consternation trying to figure out what this strange creature was that had invaded their space. It turned out to be the best thing to happen because the kits, when they popped out, were apparently fascinated by the bigger animals and kept trying to see what they were up to while once again completely ignoring me in my blind.

 This time around the kits all emerged at once and spent about an hour frolicking as I snapped gleefully away. And, surprise! Instead of five there were actually seven youngsters in the group. I don't know how mama fox feeds them all!

My favorite shots of the day were when the animals were interacting with each other. They would play for a while and then a mock fight would break out and they would growl and bark at each other sounding much bigger than they actually are.

Even though I often try to capture photos of animals without man-made structures in the images, I think the fact that they chose the environs of the barn as their den is part of this story. And the surroundings provide an obstacle course any youngster would be thrilled to explore!