Australian animals

News hit the wires yesterday that a kangaroo was sighted in central Indiana. Sadly, the marsupial died because of the tranquilizer dart used for its capture. One observer had mistaken it for a 'huge rabbit.' I'm not sure whether this is funny or disturbing.

When I was in college in central Ohio, I saw an emu ambling through campus. Now, it was in the middle of a rigorous round of frisbee golf so I may have been imagining things. However, it turned out there was a nearby emu farm that had lost one of the flightless birds.

Also, no cicadas yet in Uptown.

Cenozoic celebration

The Western Allegheny plateau was the setting for my younger years. This is a glaciated zone and not a driftless area, in fact. Yesterday, the mighty musketeers of the Cuyahoga, the Cleveland Cavaliers, won the Eastern Conference title. It might not sound like much, but Cleveland's last major sports championship was in 1964. Any signs of life from a Cleveland franchise are to be wildly celebrated.

Also, no cicadas yet in Uptown.

Cicada redemption

Still no cicadas here in Uptown, but apparently they're all over suburban Chicago. After complaining about the cicada hysteria in an earlier post, I sat mesmerized while a co-worker described their emergence in suburban Brookfield. The buzzing is deafening, and their carcasses have carpeted the ground. View the Tribune's cicada sighting map here.

CORRECTION: Ivan Basso has not admitted to doping, contrary to a previous driftless area post. Here is a quote from Basso, via The Associated Press:

"I have admitted attempted doping only. I've never taken any doping substance nor undergone any illegal blood transfusions."

Basso said he intended to participate in the Spanish doping ring busted by Operation Puerto, going so far as storing bags of blood, but never did.

Porcupine damage

Nicolet National Forest is a land of aspen-birch-maple-fir woods, glacial lakes, beaver dam wetlands and cold, fast flowing streams. This recreational wonderland is about a five- to six-hour ride due north of Chicago. It's one of those places that you're shocked is not overrun by Illinois Flatlanders or cheeseheads from the southern portion of Wisconsin. I'm hoping the tens of readers of this blog don't all sprint there.


Highlights of the ride up included an american white pelican soaring over the I-43 bridge in Green Bay and a male northern harrier gliding across US 141 north of Titletown. We pulled into Lost Lake campground in the late afternoon on Saturday. Of 20 sites or so at the campground, only about two-thirds were taken. We chose a site on a slight rise that offered a good deal of privacy. Trillium carpeted the forest floor in much of the Nicolet, including the area right around our site. (I've uploaded a few photos from the trip. Trillium was not camera shy.) The campground is in the middle of an aspen-maple forest. It doesn't offer direct views of the lake, but the shore is readily accessible.

Expensive fossil fuel prices be damned, we decided we wanted to see Lake Superior on Sunday. We drove an hour to the town of L'Anse, where the nearest arm of the lake comes in east of the Keweenau Peninsula. A bank temperature gauge gave the Fahrenheit reading as 54, but with a stiff wind blowing the wind chill must have been in the 30s. This didn't stop intrepid Yoopers from wandering along the shore in shorts and setting up a picnic in the town pavilion.

We stopped off at Canyon Falls on the way back toward Wisconsin. Here the rushing Sturgeon River plummets about 30 feet in a narrow gorge. I don't think pictures or a written description can really capture how green and lush the vegetation was throughout the trip. The Sturgeon Gorge was especially impressive after a rain shower.

The skies finally cleared when we settled in at camp yesterday evening. The last bit of sunset had disappeared when we heard a steady rustling in the underbrush. The noise was approaching our site. Flashlight beam showed a rotund gray animal moving steadily past the site. If it was a raccoon, it was shocking how little interest it had in us and our food. Two outhouses are just about 30 yards away, and soon we hear a steady scratching at the rear of the men's latrine. The flashlight revealed not a raccoon but a porcupine. Having never seen one before, at first glance I thought it was an incredibly mangy, weird raccoon. But it would occasionally flare the quills on its back. (We thought porkies could shoot quills but later learned this is not true.) It had a long neck and a thick, furry tail. The porcupine continued gnawing on the wood of the outhouse wall for at least an hour--apparently eating wood is part of its diet. In the morning, we saw that a large patch of siding in the shape of Australia had been removed.

Dope pedaling

Today, former Tour de France winner Bjarne Riis came clean about doping. He used EPO during his 1996 title. This comes after admissions by stars including Erik Zabel and Ivan Basso. I'm wondering if cycling goes the opposite direction as baseball, and everyone admits to it. Of renowned players, only Jason Giambi has gone so far as these cyclists.

Also, the border collies are back at Foster Beach in Chicago, and the 2016 Olympic bid wants to turn sandhill crane habitat into an equestrian venue. Surely there's farmland somewhere else in Illinois that could be used for the horses.

Finally, the driftless area is finally headed out for an old-fashioned car camping trip tomorrow. Full report will be filed upon return.

Insect problem

Judging by newspaper coverage, Chicago is about to be plagued by cicadas. For weeks, the upcoming cicada onslaught has been trumpeted in the local media. The cicadas are supposed to emerge from the ground as they do every 17 years. Today, the first "Where are the cicadas?" story was posted. At this point, anything short of a biblical swarm will be a disappointment. The cicadas will receive a mixed welcome, if recent small talk means anything. Responses have ranged from eagerness to abject disgust at the mention of the cicadas.

I don't recall a cicada plague in my native section of the Midwest. I do recall that another species of cicada makes a deafening buzzing sound at night in late summer. Nevertheless, the local response has become tiresome. Some of the discussions at Cicada Central are downright absurd.

Finally, the link to the veery's song via the incredible All About Birds Web site [click 'Play sound from this species'].

Avian flute

Thirty-eight species at Montrose this morning, an ideal one for spring birding. Light winds, mild temperatures and just past peak migration. Highlights included a pair of yellow-billed cuckoos, at least a dozen species of warblers and the incredible song of the veery. I hope to post a link to the veery's song soon. Veerys (or is plural veeries?) are thrushes that breed in the Upper Midwest and Canada. I know them from summers in Ontario, where their ethereal song resonates through the pines.