City Creek Nature Notes – Salt Lake City

June 13, 2017

June 4th

End of the Snowmelt

7:00 p.m. Temperatures reach 97 degrees today; one degree short of a record. As a consequence, the SNOTEL station at Louis Meadows records that all of the snowpack at near mile 7.0 of the canyon is gone. This is a seasonal milestone, and from now to next October 1st, the stream will flow only from rainfall and water stored underground. This afternoon, clouds stream in from the west, but it is too hot for the rain, which falls in curtains from a thousand feet overhead, to reach the ground.

Birds are quiet in this later evening, but still a single Blacked-head grosbeak is seen and heard near mile 0.2. A single House sparrow and a Chirping sparrow are also heard along the first mile road. Later, returning down canyon, I am for the first time able to see and hear the grosbeak performing a call with three low notes followed by a trill. This is a common call heard in the first canyon mile, but it does not appear in my reference recordings for this grosbeak. Other songs and calls for this grosbeak are in the reference recording. Butterflies are also subdued in the evening. There are single instances of a Mourning cloak, a Cabbage white and a Western tiger swallowtail. Gnats are rising in the heat.

* * * *

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on June 4th, 1852, he hears birds singing at dawn and he sees that dandelions have gone to seed. On June 4th, 1853, crickets are singing at noon. He examines oak and chokeberry leaves. On June 4th, 1855, white and red clover are blossoming, and mosquitoes are rising. On June 4th, 1857, he notes “earth-song,” or the combination of the sounds of insects and birds as a sign of summer. On June 4th, 1860, he notes elm trees are in full foliage, and that warblers have left for the season. Buttercups are in bloom. He sees a cat bird.

* * * *

How much water is stored in the east and west halves of the Salt Lake salient (may 14th) that drain into the stream? Using the difference between stream flow data taken at the canyon’s water treatment plant from 1950 to the present and precipitation records from the Louis Meadow SNOTEL station for 2000 to the present, I am able to make a rough estimate of the lower bound of stream flow that comes solely from underground reservoirs. For two months each year – June and July, average stream flow exceeds average precipitation. In June, the average stream flow exceeds rainfall by about 318 acre feet, and in July, the stream flow exceeds rain by about 242 acre feet, for a mean underground flow into the stream of 280 acre feet per month. This 280 acre feet per month is the lower bound. Summer rainfall will evaporate and never reach the stream or recharge underground aquifers. Depending on underground geologic structures, all of the water that falls within the 19.2 square miles of the canyon may not flow towards the stream. The oak and fir forests and grasses consume considerable quantities of rain water, and those withdrawals are not included in the sum of the difference between inflows and outflows. Thus, the true amount flowing into the stream from underground aquifers could be two or three times the lower bound of 280 acre feet per month. The 280 acre feet of water each month is enough to flood 28 of the city’s 10 acres blocks with a foot of water. The volume of that water is about 12.2 million cubic feet of water (0.000083 cubic miles), or a cube about 230 feet on a side. In contrast, the Mormon Temple that sits at the heart of City Creek Canyon’s delta (March 10th and March 12th) is 288 feet tall.

The lower bound of 280 acre feet of underground storage is a reasonable estimate. Treating the 12 miles of the Salt Lake Salient as two inward facing right-triangles that are 1.25 miles from the stream to ridgeline, the volume of the salient that drains towards the stream is about 32.5 cubic miles. The 0.000083 cubic miles of underground water flow is only 9 of 10,000,000ths of the salient’s volume. That water can easily fit in the pores space between the salient’s rocks.

* * * *

On June 4th, 1934, University of Utah Engineering Professor F. W. Muir reported that tree rings taken from City Creek Canyon and near Brighton show that in the last 300 years, there have been many drought cycles (Salt Lake Telegram). On June 4th, 1914, the City acquired 80 acres of private land in City Creek (Salt Lake Telegram). On June 4th, 1910, Land and Water Commissioner Frank Mathews reported that green caterpillars, possibly one million, are moving down City Creek Canyon defoliating (“stripping bare”) the trees (Salt Lake Telegram). On June 4th, 1906, streets in Salt Lake City principally from 300 West to 800 West, were severely flooded (Salt Lake Telegram).

June 1, 2017

May 29th

Memorial Day

3:00 p.m. Today, I drive up to mile 4.2, picnic site 20, and jog in the upper canyon to mile 5.1, and the Weeping Rock Cave. While the lower canyon and city are in the summer-like eighties, the upper canyon remains in the low sixties. In the lower canyon, all Gambel’s oaks have leafed out, but at milepost 2.0, most are not leafing. There is distinct band of bare oaks or oaks that have leafed out by twenty to thirty percent, but the canyon’s appearance is still a heavily wooded green, because all of the other deciduous maples, ash, and cottonwood have leafed out. These create an illusion of green around the stream, but the maples, together with Douglas fir and Norway spruce, block the view of the oaks further away from the road. The higher one goes in the canyon, the less leaves that oaks have until a glimpse of slope at milepost 4.5 and Lower Rotary Park shows all the oaks to be leafless. The upper canyon transitions from oak woodland to a mountain fir habit, and by mile 5.0, over half the trees are firs or spruces.

Although the stream is at first wider than the lower canyon, near mile 5.0, the canyon narrows as vertical limestone fins, turned by earthquake faults (Sept 1st). The canyon closes in further and the stream turns into a white, turbulent mass as it crosses younger volcanic rocks. This western canyon feels more like an eastern forest because it is directionless. Green meets the eye in all directions, and only the flowing of the stream gives a sense of location or direction. American wild mint (Mentha canadensis) grows by the roadside, and I gather a few leaves to make tea with at home.

The butterflies have taken refugee here, having followed the thermocline up canyon. Fifteen Desert elfin and Spring azure fly intertwined a dance. Mourning cloaks abound. Blue-eyed barner dragonflies are seen. Unlike the hotter lower canyon, the shaded upper canyon with its step sides is flooded with insect life. Numerous small biting flies and other insects force me to move on after stopping for a few minutes. Picnickers light fires to keep the insects at bay. There is enough life here to keep small birds well fed.

Bird communities along the road are dispersed, homogeneous and larger than in the lower canyon. Warbling vireos dominate near mile 5.1. Song sparrows are at mile 4.8. The large group of vireos allows me to spend sometime listening to their calls with some assurance of matching unusual calls to a species. A bird will make familiar textbook Warbling vireo call, followed by another unrecognized call. I hear three distinct vireo calls that I cannot match with catalogue recordings for this bird. A single female Broad-tailed hummingbird (Selasphorus platycercus) hovers a few inches off the ground inspecting a dandelion. A few flashes of blue streaking into the forest reveals Stellar’s jays. A Rock squirrel peaks from around a bush. Returning down canyon, a mallard pair floats in the flood retention ponds below mile 3.0, but I see no chicks.

At Weeping Cave, the stream is split in two. The western stream carries about 12 cubic feet per second of water down-canyon in a torrent. The eastern branch consists of about 2 cubic feet per second of subterranean flow that emanates from a vertical Mississippian limestone fin. The fin itself is distorted into melted lines of red and browns, not from water, but from extreme heat when this outcrop was buried far underground. On one volcanic boulder in the stream’s middle, a Red maple and a Norway spruce shrub are growing from crevasse in the bare rock. Backlit by the southwest sun, the maple casts a reflection of a pure light green on the flat water’s surface.

Returning down canyon, a mallard pair floats in the flood retention ponds below mile 3.0. I see no chicks. The heat, the sunlight, and that it is a holiday, make everyone in the city lethargic. No one is focused, including myself, and a day of relaxation is the rule.

* * * *

All parts of City Creek Canyon function as a place of remembrance and grieving. We connect death with a return to nature, and it is not uncommon to read about, hear of, or pass small informal wakes in the canyon. Memorials are also left by people grieving the loss of loved ones along City Creek Canyon road. Physical memorials typically consist of cards or a handwritten note with flowers left at the base of a tree. A specific part of the canyon, Memory Grove, has been set aside for grieving and formal remembrance of war dead.

The origins of Memory Grove begin in 1912 as a general use park, similar to Liberty Park. On April 14th, 1912, a petition from citizens proposed the creation of a park system for the city, including establishing a park at the canyon’s mouth, now Memory Grove (Salt Lake Tribune). Memory Grove was created in the context of the construction of the State Capitol Building and the aftermath of World War I during the 1920s. In 1920, the Gold Star Mothers of the Service Star Legion asked the city to donate land at the mouth of City Creek Canyon to create a memorial park for their sons who died in WWI (Salt Lake Tribune and Goodman, May 30, 1993). On April 25th, 1920, the Salt Lake Herald published an artist’s rendering of a proposed iron bridge that would cross City Creek at 7th Avenue. A similar proposal was suggested by G. A. Iverson of Northeast Bench Improvement Association on May 24th, 1920 (Salt Lake Telegram). The bridge was to be part of a proposed memorial WWI war dead at what is now Memory Grove. By the end of 1920, the Gold Star Mothers had purchased 300 trees and planted them near the mouth of the canyon (Salt Lake City Tribune and Goodman, July 31st, 1994). On November 5th, 1920, a subcommittee of the City Planning Committee, including Mayor Clarence Neslen, outlined plans to create a new park at the canyon’s mouth (later Memory Grove) and to turn City Creek Canyon into a large park (Salt Lake Telegram). By 1926, Mrs. E. O. Howard, a Gold Star Mother, raised 60,000 USD from private donations, a state appropriation and contributions from the city and county for the park and Memorial House construction (Salt Lake Tribune and C. Monson, Sept. 16, 1994; Salt Lake Tribune and Goodman July 31st, 1994), or about the equivalent of 830,000 USD in 2017. The Memorial House was to be constructed by renovating the abandoned Salt Lake City Waterworks maintenance shed. On December 17, 1926, the Salt Lake Telegram reported that a mature horse chestnut tree, that was being dug up at the corner of 100 South and 300 East, was being donated and relocated to Memory Grove Park in City Creek Canyon. On May 30th, 1927, Governor George Dern (grandfather to actor Bruce Dern and great-grandfather to actress Laura Dern) dedicated a monument to the Mormon Battalion at the southeast corner of the Utah State Capitol grounds that overlooks lower City Creek Canyon and Memory Grove (Monument plaque visited May 2017). The sculpture was rendered by Chicago artist Gilbert Riswold (id).

Memory Grove Park was constructed in increments from 1920 through 1927, and Memorial House served as the meeting place and wedding chapel for the Gold Star Mothers for several decades thereafter (Salt Lake Tribune, July 31, 1993). In 1920 and 1924, trees were planted (Salt Lake Herald, April 16, 1920; Salt Lake Telegram, April 15, 1924). On June 14, 1926, the Memorial House was dedicated (Salt Lake Telegram). On June 27th, 1926, a tablet containing the names of 732 Utahans killed in WWI was unveiled (Salt Lake Telegram, June 24th, 1926). In a March 1927 ceremony, Gold Star Mothers R. W. Fisher and Clesson Kinney noted the contributions of “Mayor Nelsen, Councilman Crabb, Mr. Slater of Liberty Park, Mr. Parkinson of the U.S. Forest Service” to the park’s creation (Salt Lake Tribune, July 31st, 1994). On October 8, 1927, the Austin Artillery Memorial was dedicated (Salt Lake Telegram). The Austin Artillery Memorial, an obelisk to the north of the pink meditation chapel, commemorates Capt. James Austin and three other Utah officers who were killed in the Argonne Forest during WWI (Salt Lake City Tribune and Dawn House, May 26, 2003). During this period, the Rotary Club constructed the related Rotary Club park at miles 4.5 and 5.5 of City Creek Canyon (Salt Lake Telegram, August 17, 1927).

Riswold sculpted the art deco female reliefs on the columns at the entrance to the Grove. They set the grove’s tone. In a west relief, a Grecian clothed mother looks over her shoulder to a military cross in the background. Riswold also did the sphinxes on the entrance to the Masonic Temple near 700 East South Temple (Utah Capitol Preservation Board 2017). In 1932, a second round greek style structure was added to the south of meditation chapel. It holds an octagonal bronze plaque that lists about 732 Utahans killed in WWI (Plaque visited 2017).

On April 2nd, 1935, Gold Star Mother E. O. Howard of the Salt Lake Gold Star Mothers Committee presented the Committee’s opposition to a City Street Department Plan to build a bridge across City Creek Canyon above Memory Grove (Salt Lake Telegram). They supported a plan to build stone stairs on the east side of Memory Grove to the Avenues.

World War II saw the addition of other monuments. On July 28th, 1948, the war dead chapel was dedicated at Memory Grove in front of a crowd of 10,000 (Salt Lake Tribune and John Ure, November 9th, 1997). This is the pink granite chapel in the center of the park. The Memorial Chapel was donated by the family of Ross Beason Jr., a pilot killed off the coast of Italy in WWII, but whose body was not found (House 2003). The Beason family dedicated the Memorial Chapel to all soliders whose bodies were never found (id). A step leading to the Chapel reads “In memory of 42 brave sailors who followed me to their death. C.A. ‘Red’ Beam, USN (ret.).” Beam dedicated the step in memory of his platoon that was wiped out, except for himself, during a WWI raid on Tarawa Island (House 2003). This step could not be found in 2017. 1,405 Utahans died or were missing in action in WWII (United States Military Archives 2017).

In May 1983, the park was damaged during a 100 year flood of City Creek. On February 3, 1991, the City Parks Department considered proposals to renovate the then abandoned Memorial House in Memory Grove (Salt Lake Tribune). On October 4th, 1994, the Utah Heritage Foundation reopened the renovated Memorial House, where its offices remains today (Salt Lake Tribune, October 16th, 1994). On November 9th, 1997, the Memory Grove Foundation announced its plans to raise $500,000 to renovate war memorials in Memory Grove (Salt Lake Tribune). On May 9th, 1999, the successful completion of the Memory Grove Foundation’s program to repair monuments in City Creek Canyon was reported (Salt Lake Tribune). On August 11, 1999, trees in the park were substantially destroyed by a tornado (Salt Lake Tribune, August 18, 1999).

On September 24th, 1999, Rep. Ralph Becker announced a $250,000 grant from the Metropolitan Water Conservancy District to rehabilitate Memory Grove following its destruction by a tornado (Salt Lake Tribune and Jim Woolf, Sept. 24th, 1999). On September 30th, 1999, City Director of Public Utilities LeRoy Hooten, Jr. announced the construction of a six-by-six foot concrete pond near Memory Grove in which dogs can wade (Salt Lake Tribune). Dogs entering City Creek’s stream have quadrupled the coliform count. On July 20st, 2001, City Planning Director Stephen Goldsmith noted that a gate had been added at Memory Grove to control traffic (Salt Lake Tribune).

In 2003, a Korean War Dead monument was added to the park (Plaque visited 2017). (The Vietnam era memorial is on the west capitol lawn. The Iraq Afghanistan war memorial is in Cedar City, Utah.) 141 Utahans died in Korea (Salt Lake Tribune. Apr. 25, 2013). 370 Utahans died in Vietnam (Virtual Wall). Through 2010, an unofficial count for Iraq and Afghanistan was 39.

A stone monument listing 6 Utah Medal of Honor recipients was also added. Recipients include George E. Wahlen, after whom the Salt Lake Veteran’s Hospital is named. Medic Wahlen was shot several times during the Battle for Iwo Jima such that he was unable to walk. Nonetheless he crawled across a battlefield under enemy fire to give assistance to other wounded soldiers. Whalen survived. George T. Sakato, a member of the WWII Nisei battalion led a charge against repeated enemy attacks. Brian Miles Thacker, still living, defended Firebase 6 in Vietnam as it was being overrun by North Vietnam regulars. He stayed behind and provided cover fire that allowed all other base members and wounded to evacuate. He evaded the NVA as the base was overrun and made his way back to US held territory through hostile ground. Jose F. Valdez’s WWII platoon of six was attacked by German tank. Valdez drove the tank off using only a carbine. The German army counter attacked with two companies (160-500 men). Valdez volunteered to and stayed behind to hold off the attack, allowing his platoon mates to escape. He was shot more than once, but still managed to evade capture and return to US lines. Valdez later died from his wounds sustained in the counter attack.

Battle deaths, meaning military deaths on both sides of a conflict plus collateral civilian deaths, were: WWI, 17 million; WWII, 60 million; Korea, 1.2 million; and Vietnam, 2 million (Lacina and Gelditsch 2005), or a total of about 80 million persons.

On February 1st, 2011, the Salt Lake Rotary Club, who built Rotary Park in upper City Creek Canyon in 1921 and who renovated the Ottinger Hall in 2005, the former fireman’s association meeting house near Memory Grove, celebrated its 100th anniversary (Salt Lake Tribune and Mike Gorrell, Feb. 1st, 2011). Ottinger Hall is now a youth center.

In counterpoint to the Memory Grove memorial to war dead, Salt Lake City hosts another unique memorial indirectly related to the non-combatant victims of war: the International Peace Gardens in Jordan Park at 1000 South and 900 West. The Peace Garden was conceived in 1939 by Mrs. Otto Wiesley and the Salt Lake Council of Women as a beautification project for the 1947 Utah Centennial (Salt Lake Council of Women 2017). Construction was halted by WWII, resumed in 1947 after the end of WWII, and the peace garden was dedicated in 1952. The garden contains monuments donated by 28 different countries. The United States’ “Peace on Earth” statute in the gardens features heroic images of mothers that was created by Mormon sculptor Avard T. Fairbanks. The statute is dedicated to “the hope we can leave a more peaceful future to our children.” Inscriptions on the statute read “Our Hope to the Children”, “Peace on Earth”, and “The Dawn of a New Era”. After the 2002 Winter Olympics, 84 “Peace Poles” were installed at the entrance to the gardens: one for each country participating in the winter Olympics. (Other sources list 78 countries as participating in the 2002 olympics.) There are about 156 similar peace gardens and another 146 larger peace parks around the world (peace.maripo.com)

Political scientist J. R. Rummel of the University of Hawaii (d. 2014) specialized in systematically counting civilian non-battle deaths – those deaths in conflicts not between two states – and he total an astounding 262,000,000 losses from 1900 to 1999 (Rummel, 1994, 1997, 2002). Examples include the Khmer Rouge in the 1970 and Stalin in the 1930s. The world population increased by 5.5 billion persons between 1900 and 1999, that is the net of live births less deaths. Therefore, Rummel’s 262 million represent at at most 5 percent of all persons alive during that century. Using more sophisticated estimates, some experts place the figure at less than 1 percent of all persons who were alive during the twentieth century.

Many more days are devoted in the United States to remembering military battle dead as compared to civilian battle dead, other civilian victims of conflict violence or life in general. Memorial Day is one of the three official United States’ holidays that are related to war and the solemn remembrance of war dead: Memorial Day (May 30th), Independence Day (July 4th), and Veterans Day, (November 11th). Veteran’s Day was originally Armistice Day that remembered the war dead of World War I, and four other days are now observed primarily by the United States military: Pearl Harbor Day (December 7th) marks the beginning of World War II; the less well-known Armed Forces Day (May 21st); D-Day (June 6th) marks the landing of allied forces on the French coast; and V-J Day marks the end of World II (September 2nd). German Remembrance Day, the German day for remembering war dead, is observed annually around November 14th at Fort Douglas cemetery at the monument to 41 German WWII prisoners of war who died in Utah. From the view of First Peoples, Columbus Day (October 9th) marks the beginning of Euro-American genocide against native Americans and is also a day of remembrance. From the view of United States working people, Labor Day (September 4th), celebrates a compromise that ended violent conflict between labor and upper classes. Although not widely observed in the United States, International May Day celebrations began in Chicago in 1886 with celebration of labor’s declaration for the eight-hour work day, but was quickly followed by the violence of the Haymarket Massacre on May 4th. Today, it is observed worldwide as a day commemorating the struggle between labor and capital.

In contrast to the seven days commemorating war dead, two unofficial and one official United States holiday celebrates life and nature: Earth Day (April 22nd), Arbor Day (April 27th), and Christmas near the first day of winter. These are supplemented by two other unofficial days related to the movement of life through the seasons: the first day of spring and autumn. No official United States holiday commemorates civil battle dead or other civilian victims of conflict violence. In 1981, the United Nations established the International Day of Peace on September 21st of each year (United Nations, 1981). Small observations around the globe are coordinated by the International Peace Day organization.

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On May 29th, 2009, Utah Governor John Huntsman, county Mayor Peter Corroon and Salt Lake City Mayor Ralph Becker held a press conference in City Creek Canyon to announce a new planning process administered by Envision Utah called “Wasatch Canyons Tomorrow” (Salt Lake Tribune). On May 29th, 1993, James R. Cook, in a letter to the editors of the Salt Lake Tribune, proposes to transform Traverse Ridge at the south end of Salt Lake Valley into a nature reserve similar to City Creek Canyon at the north end of the valley. (By 2017, Traverse Ridge was transformed in a luxury subdivision). On May 29th, 1914, City officers visited the newly completed City-Creek Wasatch Boulevard in anticipation of its opening on May 30th (Salt Lake Telegram, Salt Lake Tribune). City Creek Canyon Road has been widened to Pleasant Valley (id).

April 20, 2017

April 19th

Filed under: Butterfly, Cooper's Hawk, gnats, People, Sounds, Stream, White cabbage butterfly — canopus56 @ 3:06 pm

Biophilia – Part I – Water Meditation

2:00 p.m. Stream water is at its highest under a bright sun with cold air. The loud white noise of the snow-melt engorged stream has remained a constant companion that has dominated the canyon since March 12th. Combined with today’s bright sunlight, these two forces of nature, light and water sound, drive me into a restful sleepy state. Over the last month, I have developed an involuntary reaction to seventy decibel sound of mountain water. Stegner noted that next to the loud sound of mountain water, “it is impossible to believe that one will ever be old or tired” (Stegner, 41), in part, because such water is embodies a continuing renewal of force (id). In its grasp, I must sit in the sun at one of the many benches in the canyon, close my eyes, and slowly drift and meld with its noise. It is a restorative experience. I feel the energy of the stream and sunlight flow through me while at the same time my sense of body and self dissipates. This is how the earth heals both a person’s body and soul. It is in this way in which the life-giving sun and the canyon draws one towards life and away from human activities of city life. I rise filled with love towards nature, and I am not the only one. Two others are sitting on benches near the stream with half-closed eyes.

I have always had an innate drive to be at one with nature, and some of my earliest childhood memories are related to that experience. But where does that inherited drive in me and in others who visit the canyon come from?

Yesterday’s cold rain has set the insects back, and only a few are seen this afternoon. White cabbage butterflies feed on the wild carrots heads that line the road. Two new small butterflies appear, along with some gnats and a small bee that moves to fast to identify. There is new one and one-half inch orange butterfly with subtle black marks and distinct ends to its antennae, possibly a type of fritillary. The second unidentified butterfly is a small black butterfly with jet black wing and a subtle blue-black tinge to its abdomen.

I stop at picnic site 1 and again stare transfixed staring into the water as it speeds by. Suddenly, two Cooper’s hawks land in a tree next to stream. These are the two fast fleeting shapes that I saw skimming over the road a few days ago (April 15th). They are maybe fifty feet away; this is the closest that I have ever been to these raptors; and they have also come to sun themselves. The sit motionless in the high branches lazily opening and closing their eyes. The Cooper’s hawks have a grey backs, molted-brown breast and body feathers, bright white rump feathers and a banded tail. One of this pair has piercing red eyes. It’s companion teases the other, and in response the first plumps up its white rump feathers in agitation. I stand their motionless and have a good ten minutes sharing the sun with these residents.

A group of three mothers are pushing baby carriages down the road. Between the motion and deafening white noise of the stream, the babies are all quiet and content. What impression does the sound make on their unformed, young minds? It has become the fashion to purchase technology enhanced bassinets for infants. At night, sensors detect the infant’s motion automatically rocks the bassinet and floods it with stream-like white noise. Like me, the simulated stream sound sends the infants back to sleep.

* * * *

In 1964, psychoanalyst, humanist and cultural commentator Eric Fromm termed biophilia as one of two competing forces within each of us:

“There is no more fundamental distinction between men, psychologically and morally, than the one between those who love death and those who love life, between the necrophilous and the biophilous. . . . . The full unfolding of biophilia is to be found in the productive orientation. The person who fully loves life is attracted by the process of life and growth in all spheres. . . . . Good is all that serves life; evil is all that serves death. Good is reverence for life, all that enhances, life, growth, unfolding” (Fromm, 37, 47. emphasis in original).

Fromm warned that modern bureaucratic-technological society by separating humanity from nature was driving humanity towards a necrophilous or death orientation. Homo sapiens has become what Fromm called homo consumens (Fromm, 57). Fromm’s notion of homo consumens is analogous to what modern economists call homo economicus, a idealized human who makes decisions based only on rational economic basis concerned only with the experience of life as the act of consumption. Symptomatic of homo consumens is homo mechanicus or gadget man (Fromm, 58), a person obsessed with a life-view defined by manipulation of dead machines rather interacting and participating with life (id).

Fromm viewed humans not as an essence, but as a process flowing from two contradictory facts (Fromm, Chap. 6). First, humans are animals that are part of nature. Second, humans are self-aware beings with reason. The rightful use of reason to satisfy our material needs and psychological motivations in a contradiction draws us away from nature, and this creates biophilous and necrophilous tensions within psyches. Since many of our motivations are unconscious, we can never be fully sure whether reason in service of unconscious desires are destruction or healthy. The best free choice that a man, a woman or a society can exercise is to be aware when making decisions is whether they foster the tendency toward development and life or toward of anal-narcissism and death (id).

Fromm reviews how these two forces have a long history in religion, philosophy and psychoanalysis (id). The Judeaic Genesis narrative is of separation from nature by the exercise of free choice. Adam and Eve did not sin by choosing knowledge, they where given both knowledge and free choice by a creator, and as a consequence there were sent to a life of choices that drive either towards or away from life and development as a full human being (Fromm, 19-20). The Genesis narrative has its parallel in the Greek myths. Recalling that the Greeks viewed the universe as Earth-centered, Gaia was the creator not of the Earth, but of the entire universe, including their cosmology of heavenly Gods that we retain as markers of the constellations. Humans were separated from Gaia by the first female human’s (Pandora’s) exercise of free will in choosing to open the pithos, thus separating humanity from nature.

What draws me back to reunite with nature? Enjoyment of nature is a reminder, in those several decisions that we all must make on a daily basis, to try to choose as much as is practicable that which fosters all life.

* * * *

On April 19th, 1982, Salt Lake City officials declined to act on a Davis County proposal to create a commuter connector road around Ensign Peak and City Creek Canyon (Davis County Clipper). On April 21, 1914, work on widening and improving City Creek Canyon Road was completed to Pleasant Valley (Salt Lake Telegram), but Mayor Heber M. Wells restricted the use of automobiles only up to Eleventh Avenue (id). On April 19th, 1911, City Councilperson J. W. McKinney introduced a resolution to end gravel pit operations in City Creek Canyon in order to improve water quality (Salt Lake Telegram). On April 19, 1907, the City adopted an ordinance establishing a dedicated patrolman for City Creek Canyon (Salt Lake Tribune). The patrolman would be provided a horse and a salary of $2.75 per day. Duties included clearing rubbish from the canyon. Patrolman positions were also established for Parleys and Big Cottonwood and a ranchman was hired for Mountain Dell. On April 19, 1898, the City Engineer, Waterworks Superintendent, the Mayor and four citizen council members toured City Creek and recommended improvements, including repairing caved in seep tunnels and clearing and rip-raping the stream bed (Salt Lake Tribune). In 1898, there was a drought and the city officers were seeking to increase the water supply. On April 19, 1897, Mayor Glendinning toured City Creek Canyon due to flooding of Central City Neighborhoods (Salt Lake Herald).

March 24, 2017

March 24th

This is Not the Natural Place. – Part V – Timber Harvesting

2:00 p.m. Spring returns with today’s bright warming sunshine and temperatures regain half yesterday’s the thirty degree drop. Last night’s rain has washed away the carcasses of yesterday’s earthworm explosion. The creek still runs high, and between the stream’s loud white noise, the sun’s warmth, and my own feelings of exhaustion, I am compelled to rest. I find a place next to the stream in the Sun, and fall in a meditative mood, and meld into the moment. Yesterday’s two inches of freezing rainfall, although small by eastern standards, sets a new Salt Lake City precipitation record. March has turned out like February’s unusual weather: record setting warm temperatures for the first few weeks, followed by catch-up rain and snow that regresses to a nearly average year. After the freezing rain, again, the return of insects resets. There are one or two tentative White cabbage and Painted Lady butterflies, and a few stoneflies and gnats reappear.

For plants, the snow, which has now melted except on Black Mountain, stunts the grow of the Wood’s roses for a day. But other trees bloom. A red-osier dogwoods higher up the canyon blooms, and below picnic site 6, the first Box Elder tree blooms at its highest top branches. Further down canyon cultivars bloom. A new tree’s buds open with leaves are covered with small hairs, and more searching finds one that has a desiccated apple attached. These are crabapple trees (Nov. 19th). Their distinctive leaves allows me to do a census: including one tree below Guardhouse gate an two at the up-canyon end of Pleasant Valley, there are five apple trees in the first 1.5 canyon miles. Another new blooming tree has a deep purple ovary at the bud’s center. High in the trees near picnic site 6, migrant song birds sing, but frustratingly, I am unable to see them with my monocular.

* * * *

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on March 24, 1855, he records a rock slide and describes how rivers erode hills. He summarizes the signs of spring: maple sap, willow and alder catkins, grass on south banks, cowslip, and maple buds. On March 24th, 1858, he hears song birds and sees a flock of twenty shore larks.

* * * *

Early immigrant John Miller described lumber harvesting in City Creek, an activity done during the winter, principally for the purpose of selling or using timber as firewood:

In the first place, Brigham Young laid claim to the entire canyon. There were two gates through which all must pass to enter the domain. One was the Eagle Gate and the other was at the mouth of the canyon . . . There was a gate-keeper at the inner gate and he took one-third of every load of wood that came down out of the canyon. This was Brigham Young’s toll. . . . .

Brigham Young had a great wood yard just inside the inner gate, with a circular saw run by the waters of City creek. There the toll wood was cut up into stove lengths and after that it was distributed among the president’s numerous wives . . . .

There [the logs] where taken by teamsters, and hauled to the city after paying Brigham Young toll at the gates. . . . .

After cutting down a tree, we would cut it into lengths of ten or twelve feet. Then we would point one end of it and start it down the hill on the snow. It would go down like a streak of lightening . . . There were forty of us working up in the mountains, and each one would put a private mark on his logs to enable him to settle with the teamsters below. (Salt Lake Tribune, 1903, Apr 5).

* * * *

In a March 24th, 2004 letter to the editors of the Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake City resident Jay S. Bachman argues in favor of banning cougar hunting in City Creek Canyon. On March 24, 1900, the City Council directed the Police Department to provide prisoners to work on creating a boulevard up City Creek Canyon (Salt Lake Tribune).

March 14, 2017

March 14th

Flooding of City Creek’s Delta – Part V

1:30 p.m. An early spring arrives; the temperature is in the seventies. The canyon continues to be flooded with walkers, runners and bicyclists during the middle of a workday, and this may be driven in part by the fact that the local university is on spring break. Near mile 0.4, I watch a large raptor soaring next to the high cliff walls on the canyon’s west-side for several minutes, and then it dives into a nesting site in cliff wall. Raptors are known to nest there through mid-June. Although trees continue in their somnolence, insects respond instantly overnight. I estimate 500 Box Elder bugs are active in the first mile. Their abdominal segments are a bright red-orange, and this aids them in locating each other for their many mating orgies that I pass on the road. Gnats are in abundance, the first houseflies appear, and I see the first wasp of the season. I count five butterflies of four different types. The first is a large black butterfly with a white trailing edge, probably a Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa), and the second mid-size butterfly with black wings and a trailing red-orange band is probably an early Red Admiral butterfly (Vanessa atalanta). A White Cabbage butterfly is seen on the Pipeline Trail. The fourth is the inverse of the Red Admiral: orange-winged with a black trailing edge. These are early hatchlings. The annual butterfly explosion, in which up to one-thousand butterflies can be seen on the road, is several weeks away. One regret that I have from the winter is that despite my searches, I was unable to locate any butterfly or moth cocoons hanging from trees. That is where the butterflies hibernate through the winter.

Near mile 0.4 where the Gambel’s oak forest spreads up the western canyon slope, the oak thicket hides small birds, but I can hear about five distinct calls. Only a robin’s call can be definitely identified. Along the stream, a startled thrush runs under the tangle of a bush’s roots. I jog down the Pipeline Trail. In April and May and after the oaks renew their leafs, smaller migrating song birds can be seen perching on the electrical power lines that parallel the trail, but today, I see none. Below Shark Fin Rock near trail mile 0.5, a mid-sized bird, screened by the trees, calls with a loud “chirp-cheep”. I cannot see it, but from the changes of its calls’ levels, I can tell that the bird is standing in place and rotating around, probably advertising for a mate.

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on March 14th, 1854, he hears a large flock of song-sparrows in the trees. On March 14th, 1855, he sees sparrow tracks in the snow leading to blue curls, a plant that contains dried seeds.

The weather and increased ability to forecast flooding works against City residents’ tendency to forget extreme events. The National Weather Service, the National Soil Conservation Service and the U.S. Geological Survey maintain an extensive system of flood gauge monitors and a sophisticated national flood prediction system, the Advanced Hydrographic Prediction Service, the data from which is publicly available (U.S.G.S. 2017, NSCS 2017, NWS 2017b, 2017c). The NWS regularly publishes probability predictions of annual flooding whenever the snowpack is high (Salt Lake Tribune, April 29, 2011). For example, although 2017 has not resulted in flooding in City Creek, flooding in northern Utah towns like Tremonton fill the news.

When City Creek returns to flood its delta, the waters will find a much changed city. In the 2000s, when the North Temple shopping district was rebuilt at the cost of over $1 billion USD. Since 1983, the business district has seen construction of numerous large buildings on both sides or Main and State Streets, and pursuant with City policy, each has constructed many large underground parking lots. For example, between South Temple and 100 South and State and Main, the entire 10 acre block now contains a multi-level underground parking structure. The same is true between 200 South and 300 South between State and Main. The doors that close off entry to these underground cavities are simple thin roll-down affairs that will not keep flood water out. Although during the 1983 flood, sandbagging kept water out of the then only underground garage, when City Creek again floods the downtown, these underground lots will be susceptible to filling with water, and the economic cost of the next extreme flood – which still can overwhelm the post-1983 increased capacity of the storm water system – will be much higher.

March 13, 2017

March 13th

Filed under: Butterfly, gnats, People, Robin, Spider — canopus56 @ 7:27 pm

Flooding of City Creek’s Delta – Part IV

External Link to Image

Source: Natural Resources Conservation Service (2017). SNOTEL Reporting System (data); Salt Lake Tribune, April 29, 2011 and June 1983. The horizontal lines represent in acre-feet per month, the capacity of North Temple storm water conduit and the State Street City Creek conduit before and after the floods of 1983.

4:00 p.m. It is another warm Monday, and the canyon, which usually will be empty on first workday of the week, is still overflowing with walkers, families, groups of hiking young men, runners, and bicyclists. It is the pent up energy dissipating from winter indoor living. From this influx of people who do not regularly visit the canyon, a collection of clothing builds up pinned to the community posting board at the gate: a glove, a case for glasses, a winter dog sock, a child’s sock, a hat, a sweater, some socks. It is seven days to spring, and March, like February, is turning out unseasonably hot. The high temperatures end the “Great Concentrator” (Dec. 29): the cold of winter. Four early orange brown butterflies are seen, and backlighting from the down-canyon Sun reveals many gnats and the silk of spiders in the trees. The chickadees have dispersed along with other birds, and the canyon has little bird life other than two robins at Guardhouse Gate. At mile 0.3, there is small cultivar tree next to the road that is covered in galls, and none of the surrounding trees have been attacked. Near mile 0.2, I notice a young red osier dogwood that at the end of one small twig has formed an enormous one inch gall. This is the immune system of trees and bushes at work.

While earlier City Creek delta flooding events can be partially attributed to inadequate or technological limits of civil engineering and political disputes of the time, another major lesson of northern Utah flooding through the 1930s is that the flooding was caused by denuding watersheds of trees and grasslands through lumber production and sheep and cattle grazing (Honker 1999 at 32-39, Cottam 1947). By the 1930s, over four million sheep and cattle grazed in Utah (Cottam 1947). On May 30th, 1926, E.C. Shepard, the supervisor of the Wasatch National Forest, and Frederick S. Baker, forest examiner, reported that in Utah, 434,404 cattle, 2,821,308 sheep and 20,000 horses grazed on forest lands (Salt Lake Telegram, Cottam 1947). Baker credited water protection against over-grazing as to why City Creek did not flood as severely as torrential floods in Willard and Farmington. In response to the floods of the 1920s and 1930s, numerous studies found that removal or small areas of coverage at the headwaters of Wasatch Front Range canyons through improper grazing practices leads to devastating downstream floods during extreme weather events (Bailey, Cottam 1945, Forsling, Utah Flood Commission).

Historically, severe floods in northern Utah have led to a cycle of report generation (e.g. Potter, Bailey, Cottam 1945, Utah Flood Commission), reform proposal (e.g. Utah Flood Commission, Cottam 1945), and subsequent public amnesia and inaction (Honker 1994, 1999, Park). The floods of the late 1800s led in the early 1900s to proposals for a forest reserve system (Park) and Interior Secretary Pinochet establishing Utah national forest reserves, including the Wasatch Cache National Forest (Honker 1999). On 1894, a new City administration adopted a maintenance program to regularly clear City Creek’s bed of tree debris (Salt Lake Herald, January 31, 1894). Floods of the early 1900s led to transfer of watershed authority in City Creek and the other Salt Lake valley canyons to the City in order to promote culinary water protection and reforestation (Public Law 63-199, Public Law 73-259). The U.S. Forest Service established a tree nursery in Big Cottonwood Canyon that produced up to four million seedlings per year for use throughout Intermountain west forests (Intermountain Republican, April 23, 1908). The City adopted numerous watershed protection practices and partially reforested City Creek, but not Emigration Canyon (Salt Lake Tribune, May 1, 1918).

After each flood, the lesson of the need to preserve and reforest trees and vegetation at the headwaters of all of the Salt Lake Valley canyons was forgotten. In 1902, Albert Potter of the United States Forestry Division toured Utah and surveyed the conditions of public and and the attitudes of local farmers and ranchers towards conservation (Potter; Honker 1994). He recorded how Utahans after flood of the late 1800s and early 1900s made the connection between denuding canyons through livestock grazing and lumbering and subsequent flooding, and while some supported conservation, many maintained the necessity for continued grazing. From historical records, Hull estimated that Great Basin ranges were stripped of their native perennial grasses and were replaced from larger sagebrushes and saltbrushes in 10 or 15 years (Hull 1976, cited in Barbour and Billings 2000 at pp. 263-264). From the early 1880s to the 1920s, over a million sheep grazed in northern Utah, denuded the landscape, and several hundred thousand made an annual trip down Emigration Canyon (Cottam 1947; Potter; Bailey). Fires were intentionally set to clear areas of trails and grazing (Utah Flood Commission at 42-43). That led to the floods of the late 1920s and early 1930s. From the 1900s to the 1940s, City Creek remained a popular escape for numerous City residents from the summer heat and vegetation suffered from over-use (Hooten). From the 1950s to the 1960s, the City closed City Creek to all public entry as a water quality protection measure and to give the canyon time to renew lost vegetation (Hooten). But the City grew lax in its clearance of tree debris from the City Creek stream bed, and in the floods of 1983, tree debris clogged the main storm water sewer and flooded the business district. Explosives had to be used to clear the blockage (Salt Lake Tribune, June 1983).

After the flood of 1983, the City designated City Creek as a permanent recreation and watershed recreation area (Salt Lake City 1986), installed the flood retention ponds at Bonneville Drive and the canyon entrance to trap tree debris, and increased the capacity of the underground conduits that move City Creek past downtown from 90 cubic feet per second to 210 cubic feet per second (Salt Lake Tribune, April 29, 2011 and June 1983) by expanding the conduit under North Temple Street. In terms of monthly flows, the new monthly discharge capacity of 12,495 acre-feet per month comfortably exceeds historic maximum monthly flow of 8,358 acre-feet (Natural Resources Conservation Service SNOTEL data, 2017), but the daily discharge capacity of 210 cubic feet per second is far below the maximum recorded daily discharge rate of 322 cubic feet per second (Salt Lake City Dept. of Public Utilities 2017).

Another opportunity to expand the discharge capacity of the storm sewers were passed up. In 2003, the City received a $50,000 USD grant to examine raising City Creek from its underground conduit and having a raised streambed exit the City along North Temple through the westside (Deseret News, Aug. 1, 2003). A more detailed plan by the Army Corps of Engineers envisaged moving City Creek along North Temple from 300 West to the Jordan River along a proposed abandoned railway in an large urban park (Love 2007), but the estimated cost was $20 million USD (Deseret News, Aug. 1, 2003), and nothing was done. Through 2017, the railway line was not abandoned, the westside was made the site of a regional commuter rail hub, and the railway is an even more important hub of the City’s freight and regional transportation infrastructure. By dedicating this western exit route to other purposes, future efforts to find a wider bed with enough capacity to carry City Creek’s flood waters past the downtown will be more expensive and complex. That increased capacity will be need seems likely given the new Bekker et al 2014 estimates for peak storm and flood events (March 16th).

Since the post-1983 improvements, the City has grown lax in removing tree debris and the creek bed between Guardhouse Gate and milepost 1.5 is refilling with fallen trees (Personal observation). Although City Creek is now a nature preserve where no timber clearing occurs, in other Wasatch Canyons, large ski resorts and residential cabins have renewed the process of removing trees (Personal observation).

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on March 13th, 1858, he comments that morning skies have a deeper red color. On March 13th, 1855, he finds four mice nests where the snow has retreated. On March 13th, 1859, he sees a small flock of blackbirds.

On March 13th, 1920, the Salt Lake Herald urged the creation of a public park at the mouth of City Creek Canyon.

March 12, 2017

March 12th

Filed under: Butterfly, Cottonwood tree, Dogwood, Gambel's Oak, gnats, grass, Horsetail, spiders — canopus56 @ 8:25 pm

Flooding of City Creek’s Delta – Part III

5:00 p.m. It is a Sunday; in the high fifties; and bright because it is the first day of Daylight Savings Time. Clocks were moved forward one hour, so this 4:30 p.m. was 4:00 p.m. yesterday. The stream is twice its usual volume; early spring run-off has begun. Until I am away from the stream on the Pipeline Trail, I do not appreciate just how loud it has become. The canyon is overflowing with people, and in addition to the strolling couples, now families with young children frequent the road. They are a sign of the coming spring. There are other signs this evening. I count six spiders of the same unidentified species on the road. A brown and orange butterfly goes by; the first of this new year. Below mile 0.4, some red-osier dogwoods are covered with new spider webs. In this lower part of the canyon, the buds of three types of plants begin to respond to lengthening daylight. The buds of some dogwoods have engorged and through their outer winter cases, the green of chlorophyll production can be seen. Horsetails through most of the canyon still lay flat, having been pushed down by the weight of prior snow. But below mile 0.4, the horsetails are standing erect, and this also indicates that chlorophyll production has begun. The buds of an unknown cultivar, out of place in this climate, ooze a reddish pink fluid and the stems leading the buds are turning green. But above mile 0.4, these signs end. Higher up canyon at Pleasant Valley, grasses respond. Where grasses were low last year, the ground is covered in green velvet, but for fields of taller grass with browned stems, the green is muted under that last year’s canopy. But in the entire canyon, the buds of native Gambel’s oak and cottonwoods wisely remain dormant. They are conditioned to a much colder February and March with more snow. Doing my distribution analysis of snow and precipitation for February, last month through February 21st, was a three percentile year for snow and a ninety-eight percentile year for temperature. In the last six days of the month, heavy storms and cold pulled February back to a 40th percentile year for snow and an 83 percentile year for temperature. This is a persistent drought pattern, and I expect March to also be unusually warm and dry. I am perplexed as to why early spiders would arrive and set up their nets. Above milepost 1.5, I look down canyon at the back lit road. The answer is the over 100 gnats suspended above the road. A coyote barks from the thickets of the southern canyon wall; it is waiting for the mule deer to start giving birth in April.

Most city residents take the 1983 flooding of Salt Lake City’s downtown as the benchmark of how rare city flooding is, but this impression based on a single lifetime is misleading. City Creek’s delta, and its business district, have flooded on numerous occasions prior to 1983, and if Bekker et al historical reconstructions are correct, the City Creek delta will be subjected to flooding in the future. Downtown flooding occurred in 1852, 1854, 1864 (flooding North Temple), 1866, 1869, 1870, 1873, 1874 (flooding Main Street and South Temple), 1876, 1882 (possibly flooding downtown), 1884 (flooding North Temple), 1885 (flooding streets), and 1889 (flooding streets) (Woolley at 96-120, Honker 1999). On June 19th, 1903 in a lengthy statement, City Engineer L.C. Kelsey described the risk to the City of flooding from an extreme weather cloudburst after hundreds died in a cloudburst flood in Heppner, Oregon (Salt Lake Telegram):

“A part of the city is located at the mouth of City Creek canyon in such a position that a heavy cloudburst in the canyon would send a wall of water into the city that would cause a heavy loss of probably both life and property.”

“I understand that cloudbursts in former years have done considerable damage, but nothing of that kind has ever happened while I have been here.”

“A cloudburst of any considerable magnitude would do almost incalculable damage, and I cannot see how it could be avoided.”

“There is no possible way to divert such a stream without an enormous expenditure of money. If unlimited means were at hand the question would have to be most carefully considered. I would not suggest any means of reaching this end without studying the situation. Means, however, could certainly be devised.”

“A war of water coming down the canyon, similar to that at Heppner, would sweep everything before It. Residences in the canyon’s mouth would fall like card houses and the wave would then sweep down North Temple and State streets. The greater volume would go down the former and the wall surrounding Temple square would melt before it.”

“The Temple itself, the basement at least would be inundated and havoc would be played there. The water going westward would soon spread, but incalculable damage and perhaps heavy loss of life would mark its path.”

“The lesser volume would go down State street, spreading ruin in its course, until It, too, had dissipated.”

“While such a thing Is not probable, it Is altogether possible, as the city in a climatic belt where cloudbursts could be well expected. Such things cannot, however, be foreseen” (Salt Lake Telegram, June 9, 1903).

After Kelsey’s caution, flooding also occurred in 1907 (flooding North Temple), 1908 (flooding North Temple) and 1909 (flooding North Temple and requiring construction of five foot embankments) (Woolley at 96-120, Honker 1999). Although the Intermountain Republican played down the extent of the damage and suggested that only minor improvements were needed, photographs of the 1909 flood at the J. Willard Marriott Digital Archives (Honker) and the newspaper’s own contemporaneous account suggest that North Temple to Second South were inundated with almost a foot of water:

The damage by the flood is not so great as would be suggested to a casual observer. . . . It will several weeks until the creek has receded to it proper channel before North Temple street can be cleaned up. Hundreds of tons of dirt and gravel, brought down by the water, will have to be cleaned up and hauled away; the temporary banks will have to be removed, bridges will need repairing, and in some instances totally reconstructed. The (City Creek) conduit must be cleaned and the channel banked up. All this will take weeks of strenuous work on the part of the street department. (Intermountain Republican, June 9th, 1909).

City Engineer Kelsey recommended a more robust response: encase City Creek in a concrete pipe under State Street that would bypass the central business district. On March 10th, 1910, P. J. Moran Construction Company reported that it will complete the underground aqueduct to carry City Creek waters past the downtown district and opined that the aqueduct will “render it impossible in the future for floods to go tearing down Canyon Road and the State Street . . .” (Salt Lake Herald). After the City implemented this permanent solution, downtown flooding again occurred in 1912 (flooding South Temple with tons of sand) and 1918 (silting 200 South with 1 foot of mud) (Woolley at 96-120, Honker 1999). On August 13, 1923, Kelsey’s 1903 prediction came true. An extreme cloudburst event along the Wasatch Front sent torrents down Farmington Canyon, destroyed Farmington City, and killed seven (Honker, 35-36). Salt Lake’s downtown also flooded (Woolley at 96-120, Honker 1999).

Despite moving City Creek to an underground conduit, Salt Lake’s downtown also flooded in 1925 (flooding basements), 1931 (12 inches of water in streets), and 1945. In the flood of August 19th, 1945, after a summer of fires that denuded the hills above the Avenues, a flash flood ripped down Perry’s Hollow, through the cemetery, and deposited headstones on N Street. Reminiscent of Kelsey’s 1903 caution, in the central business district,

“Two hours later [after the cloudburst] State St. was still blocked by the overflow from flooding City Creek. Boulders weighing 300 and 500 pounds were left along the way. Parked automobiles were carried for blocks. Tree branches and trash cans were left in four and five foot drifts.” (Salt Lake Telegram, July 16th, 1946).

The City reported $500,000 USD of damages in 1946 currency. In the 1990s, a roadway retention dam was built across upper Perry’s Hollow to prevent a recurrence of Avenues flooding.

The flood of 1983 required building of embankments on State Street, out North Temple to 1000 west, and along 1300 South (Woolley at 96-120, Honker 1999). Sandbagging along State Street prevented the then only underground garage at ZCMI from flooding (Salt Lake Tribune, June 1983). Historical photographs of the floods of 1907 through 1909, reproduced in Honker 1999, are reminiscent of the sandbagging of State Street in 1983. But by 1983, the earlier flood era had been forgotten, and city residents of 1983 viewed their flood as a new, rare occurrence (Personal recollection).

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on March 12th, 1853, he sees the first lark of the season, and he strips back the bark of a dead pine tree and finds gnat grubs. On March 12, 1854, he sees a flock of blackbirds, the first robin of the season, a jay, a chickadee, and crows. He records bare earth with no snow. On March 12th, 1856, he records heavy snow drifts. On March 12th, 1857, he sees a red squirrel feeding on frozen apples. On March 12th, 1859, he admires a rain-soaked bank that is colored by lichens, brown grasses and weeds, and sand.

On March 12th, 1916, the new scenic boulevard from 11th Ave, up City Creek, and then around to the State Capitol opened. The boulevard was then called “Wasatch Boulevard” (Salt Lake Telegram). On March 12th, 1906, Land and Water Commissioner Frank Mathews impounded fourteen cows that he found illegally grazing in City Creek (Salt Lake Telegram). On March 12th, 1905, City Engineer Kesley has begun survey work for the new 5,000,000 gallon reservoir in City Creek Canyon (Deseret Evening News).

March 8, 2017

March 7th

Filed under: Common stonefly, gnats, Red-tailed hawk, Seasons, Western bluebird — canopus56 @ 1:21 am

It is enough. This is the Right [Natural] Place – First Peoples – Part V

2:00 p.m. Hawks! Near picnic site 6, a couple is standing looking intently towards the east-south ridge wall. This is always a good sign to stop, chat, and see what others see. Half-way up the south wall, a Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) in its immature phase with red leading-edge wing bars floats suspended in mid-air. A light wind blows up canyon, and the hawk flies perfectly balancing the forces of lift and drag by only making small changes in its black wing tip feathers. The couple says it is part of a pair; a larger mate fly up canyon before I arrived. The hawk floats for about a minute, lands on nearby trees or an outcrop, rests, and then resume stationary soaring. I suspect the hawk is here hunting for one of the flock of about ten chickadees seen here since February 17th. Continuing up canyon, the Moon that is just one day past first-quarter hangs low on the horizon above Little Black Mountain. Since it is during the day, the black seas on the Moon’s surface are flooded with blue light. The blue color is repeated at mile 1.1. I find a flock of seven Western bluebirds (Sialia mexicana) resting in a tree next to the road. I am quiet and watch them for several minutes, but then make the mistake of coughing loudly. The flock is startled and disperses.

The wind storm and snow of March 5th and 6th denoted the coming change in seasons. The storm was a marker that spring now has the upper hand and tilts the balance towards warmth. Astronomical spring will begin on 14 days – March 20th – and I find myself unconsciously counting the days. Yesterday’s snow has melted except around the stream banks and, the canyon begins to quickly reset itself back to the last warm days. Four or five stoneflies struggle on the road, and two gnats flit in the air. The green mosses, where they were covered with yesterday’s snow, plump up again and turn dark green. But yellow-orange lichens on the dry side of trees remain their dull color. The buds on trees have not yet started to respond to the new warmth, with one exception. Today and after Sunday’s windstorm, there are a broken twigs with three swollen buds on the ends. Touching the buds breaks them off, revealing a miniature curled green leaf within. This seems out of step from the rest of the trees in the canyon, whose buds still hibernate. After some searching, I pair with an immature Quaking Aspen (Populus tremuloides).

The Euro-American colonists also found First Peoples in the valley on their arrival, and their population further evidence that the valley was a lush environment prior to the 1847 arrival of the Euro-American colonists. The presence of the First Peoples in the valley stretches back 12,000 years to the Pleistocene (Feb. 15th). The Ute tribe evolved from the the proto-Uto-Aztecan culture in southern Nevada and California (Simmons, 14). After the Anasazi and Fremont cultures left the area in response to prolonged severe drought around 1,200 C.E., the Ute Nation expanded into the northern Nevada, Utah and Colorado regions between 1,000-1,200 C.E. (id).

Before the arrival of the 1847 Euro-American colonists, the dominant First People’s community in the valley were migratory hunter gathers, the Tumpanawach, or fish-eaters, band of the Ute Nation, also called the Timpanogots band (Conetah, 25; Simmons, 18). Their territory stretched from the south-end of the Great Salt Lake, east to the Unita River and south to Nephi (Simmons, 18). There were two Tumpanawach groups present in the valley in July 1847: one led by Chief Wanship in Salt Lake Valley and a second led by Gosip who resided around Utah Lake (Simmons, 32). The overall leader of the Tumpanawach band was Wakara, after which Wakara Way in present day Research Park of Salt Lake City is named (Conetah, 39; Simmons, 89-92 (“Wacarra” or “Walkara”)). The Mormons mispronouced Wakara or Walkara as “Walker”. They called themselves the Nu’u-ci or “Nuche”, and the terms “Ute” and “Utah” are corrupted versions of earlier Arizonian Jemez Native American terms that the Spanish shortened to “Yuta” (Simmons, 15). A romanticized version of the first encounter and Wanship can be found on a 1990s multi-tych plaque at the entrance to the Ensign Peak trail park west of the City Creek Canyon (Feb. 15th). One of the plaque’s panes shows a mid-1970s nuclear family hiking up Ensign Peak against the back drop of urbanized Salt Lake City. A second pane illustrates Wanship’s camp at the base of Ensign Peak. Pioneer May Ellen Kimball records that the group was camped near Warm Springs about at present day 1600 North Beck Street (Gottfredson, 15). The illustrations on the plaque feature Ute style brush wickiups, a tee-pee style conical brush lean-to used for temporary summer camps. The true appearance of Wanship’s camp is unknown and the images on the plaque are probably drawn from a photograph taken by John K. Hillers during Wesley Powell’s 1872-1873 expedition. The photograph is attributed as either a Paiute encampment in St. George or a Unitah encampment of Utes, depending on the author (Jennings, 297 (Piautes); Duncan, 166 (Utes)). Much of the subsequent encounter between the First Peoples and the Euro-American colonists of 1847 can be understood in terms of population dynamics, Manifest Destiny inspired racist paternalism, European disease, the religious beliefs of the Latter Day Saints embodied in their Book of Mormon, and Mormon Indian affairs policies (McPherson, 19-21).

The size of the two Ute groups in the Salt Lake and Utah valleys during 1847 is unclear, but is estimated at 75 persons. On the evening of Young’s first day in the valley, July 24th, 1847, a group of 12 to 15 members of Ute Chief Wanship’s band from Salt Lake valley and Utah valley greeted the new immigrants (Little, 100). If 12 to 15 men between the ages of 17 and 40 represent about 20 percent of the population, as occurs today, this implies a local First Peoples population of around 60 to 75 persons. The advance party of Mormon colonists that arrived of July 24th, 1847 contained about 150 persons. One estimate of the total First Peoples population in Utah in 1847 is 20,000 persons (McPherson, 20), but it includes all the major tribes of Utah: the Gosutes, the Utes, the (southern) White Mesa Utes, the Paiutes, the Western Shoshone, and the Navajos. Another speculative estimate was that in the 1840s, 10,000 Utes were spread across Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas (Covington, 2). By the end of 1847, the Salt Lake Euro-American colonist population rose to 1,500, by the 1850 census there were 4,658 colonists in Salt Lake City and 11,330 in Utah as a whole, and by 1860, 8,191 in Salt Lake City and 40,125 throughout Utah (Perlich, 8; Draper, 15). But the early Mormon Euro-American colonists of 5,000 were only about 1 percent of the 400,000 Euro-American immigrants who used the Oregon Trail between 1846 and 1850. Most colonists, like Heinrich Lienhard (March 3rd), were passing through Utah on their way to Oregon, Washington and California.

As the relative abundance between Euro-American and First Peoples populations reversed in favor of the pioneers between 1847 and the 1850’s, conflict was inevitable. In particular, the Euro-American colonists arrived with substantial livestock populations that quickly depleted native grasses. Wildlife populations, on which the hunter-gatherer First Peoples depended, dwindled in competition with cattle grazing. Fish were used up from the streams and the Utah Lake fish-laden river was fenced off (Covington, 51, 60, 62-63).

The second major cultural factor that affected the first encounter between the Utah Euro-American colonists and First Peoples was Manifest Destiny inspired racism, and that racism is best illustrated by the Euro-Americans’ view of First Peoples “depredations”. James Amasa Little’s 1946 biography of Lorenzo Dow Young is illustrative of pioneer attitudes towards First Peoples as immoral “thieves”,

“The following circumstance, illustrating the thieving propensities of these aboriginal Americans shows that the Saints did not much improve their Indian associations in changing their location from the vicinity of the thieving Pawnees and Omahas to the midst of the cricket eaters of the desert” (Little 99-100).

What the Euro-American colonists viewed as “thieving” may have been perceived by the First Peoples as payment of “rent” due. In denying claims of the pioneers, based on Christian biblical doctrines, that the valley and the canyon were owned by all persons, including the Euro-American colonists, the First Peoples view was that they owned the land as their territory. They claimed “a share of the grain [planted by the colonists] for their [the colonists] use of the land” (Christy, 219, citing “Journal History of the Church,” August 15, 1846, Archives Division, Historical Department, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City).

Similarly, Gottfredson’s 1919 “History of Indian Depredations in Utah” by its title reveals colonists’ views of First Peoples. “Depredations” is normally a term reserved for animal depredation of livestock. The use of the term “depredation” indicates a view of First Peoples as sub-humans prone to immoral thieving. Gottfredson stated that,

“It was the inherent nature of the Indian to steal, and this brings to my mind an incident told of an Indian who brought a worn out axe to a black smith to be fixed, the blacksmith said, I can’t fix it, it hasn’t any steel in it. ‘Oh yes, said the Indian, it is all steel, me steal it last night.’ Indians could not be depended upon as to their lasting friendship, mostly on account of their thieving propensity, so it was necessary for the settlers to build forts for protection” (Gottfredson, 6).

Local Native Americans were referred to by the colonists with the denigrating names of “diggers” and “cricket-eaters” (Gottfredson, Little). The use of these terms persisted even though the 1847 colonists’ crops failed and the pioneers survived the 1847-1849 winters by learning from the First Peoples to dig and eat local roots (Nov. 30th).

The third major factor that affected 1847 colonist interactions with First Peoples was disease. After initial trading of blankets with and exchanging prisoners with the Utes, in the winter of 1847, the European disease of measles struck Wanship’s group, and the colonists buried thirty-six Utes in a mass grave (Conetah, 37; Covington, 60; see Gunnison, 146). This was typical of the disease transmission during the Euro-American colonization of North America (Diamond).

The fourth major cultural factor that affected the first encounter between the Utah Euro-American colonists and First Peoples was Mormon religious views. Written or translated by Joseph Smith during the religious revival period of the 1820s in up-state New York and during a period of eastern Indian removal, the Book of Mormon recites the story of a supreme North American white tribe, the Nephites, that split from a tribe of immoral non-whites, the Lamanites (Book of Mormon). The supreme being later becomes displeased with the Nephites for their failure to follow religious tenants, and around the time of crucifixion of Jesus, the being destroys both the Nephite and the Lamanite cultures. Mormon culture identifies Native Americans as Lamanite remnants to which the Mormons have a historical and religious duty (Covington, 52-53). For example, when Utah was admitted as a territory in 1850 as part of the Missouri Compromise, Utah was admitted as a slave territory; however, the territorial legislature allowed only the taking Black Americans and not First Peoples, as slaves.

The fifth major factor was Mormon Indian affairs policies. On August 1st, 1847, the colonists told the First Peoples that the Native Americans did not own the Salt Lake Valley (Christy, 219). Brigham Young directed the colonists to remain confined to the Great Salt Lake Valley, given that the “Utes may feel a little tenacious about their choice of lands on the Utah [Lake], we had better keep further north . . . which is more neutral ground . . .” (Sillitoe, 32, quoted). After having established themselves, Young concluded that the pioneers would then “select a site for our location at our leisure” (id). The Salt Lake Valley was the northwestern corner of the Ute territory. The valley was bounded by and overlapped the Western Shoshone Nation to the north and Gosutes lands to the west (McPherson, 2). But eventually, Ute taking of cattle, Ute threats to attack settlers due to lack of wild game foodstuffs and anger over expropriation of their traditional lands led Young to view the Ute Bands as an existential threat to the new colony, “They must either quit the ground or we must — we are to maintain that ground or vacate this . . . if we yield in this instance — we have to yield this land” (Young, Feb. 10, 1850, quoted Christy, 226).

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on March 7th, 1853, he lists the early natural signs of spring. On March 7th, 1854, he hears the first bluebird of the season and sees flying gnats. On March 7th, 1859, he hears a woodpecker and then a shrike.

On March 7th, 1915, the Salt Lake Telegram extolled the beauty of the drive along the new 11th Avenue and City Creek Roads. The road is to be completed shortly using prison labor. The Telegram notes that “thousands” of Salt Lake residents go to the canyon on summer weekends to escape the city’s heat (Salt Lake Telegram). On March 7, 1895 on the west side of town, Rio Grande while boring an artesian well to 1,073 feet, brought from pieces of a preserved tree with stream rounded rocks similar to those found at City Creek from depths of 438, 667, and 730 feet (Salt Lake Tribune).

February 14, 2017

February 14th

Filed under: Blacked-Headed Chickadee, Common stonefly, Gambel's Oak, gnats, Spider — canopus56 @ 6:19 pm

Mega Tree

2:00 p.m. It is another in a series of brisk, sunny late winter days in the mid-forties. The snow in the lower canyon has left the ground except in small patches. Responding to the warmer weather, the flock of Black-capped chickadees near mile 0.3 to 0.6, now plays in more dispersed groups. In the depths of winter, they remain closer to each other. Another songbird is heard, but not seen. At mile 1.1, I look into a stream that is flowing freely, but about one month ago, here the stream was frozen in a solid milky mass. The stream itself is running lower, but is now clear and does not contains the fine particles seen yesterday. In one tree backlit by sunlight, a single strand of gossamer silk indicates that a spider was active. Two gnats and a stonefly are seen, and near mile 0.8, earlier in the day, a small beetle tried, but failed to completely cross the road. As I arrive home, a favorite tree is full of noisy European house sparrows, and the filling of this tree with a large flock is a sign that I usually take as a first precursor of the coming spring.

In southern Utah outside of Cedar City is the world’s largest single living organism: a stand of aspen trees named “Pando” (DeWoody et al). Aspens reproduce by root cloning, and Pando has been expanding for possibly 80,000 years until reaching its current mass of six million kilograms. The stand of trees is one organism connected by a series of underground roots. In northern Utah, neighboring Gambel’s oaks also reproduce asexually by clonal root extension and are connected by system of extensive clones with fused grafting roots (Neilson and Wullstein, 1986 at 298; Neilson and Wullstein, 1983 at 295; Cottam; Tiedemann, Clary and Barbour). As I jog by the Gambel oak stand between Guardhouse Gate and mile 0.3, I am passing hundreds of individual trees or just one large plant? Although biologists refer to these stands as “extensive clones” (Feb. 10th), I am unable to find any genetic investigation that sought to determine if Gambel’s oak stands form massive single organisms like southern Utah’s aspen named Pando.

In Thoreau’s “Journal” on February 14th, 1854, he observes black-capped nuthatches, a downy woodpecker, and chickadees all feeding in the same area. He hears tit mice calling. On February 14th, 1857, he observes that during a thaw, many caterpillars are crawling on snow.

November 9, 2016

November 9th

Filed under: Gambel's Oak, gnats, Insects, moss, Plants, Variegated Meadowhawks — canopus56 @ 6:09 pm

Ghosts in the Canyon

9:30 a.m. As I run up-canyon, the morning cold is still on the road. Coming down canyon, the Sun hits the road in the lower canyon and a few gnats have begun to rise. Gnats, small non-biting flies, live off the moss that grows profusely in the stream and rotting vegetation at its banks. In the afternoons, there are still one or two Variegated Meadowhawk dragonflies, but they are not enough to keep the gnats down. In this season’s colder weather, gnats like to stay in the warming sunlight. On November 4th at 5:00 p.m., backlit by the sun’s rays, I estimated that there between 200 and 300 gnats near Guardhouse Gate. On October 31st, while running down canyon at milepost 1.5, the line of the setting sun was above 20 feet above the road. There were no gnats at the level of the road in shadow, but looking up into the backlit sunlight, I estimated about 100 gnats were following the rising sunline. Like Gambel’s oak acorns, the prolific gnats are another base of the canyon’s food chain. They are food for dragonflies and birds.

There are many now little-used names for groups of animals, e.g. a gaggle of geese on the ground, a skein of geese in flight, or a murder of crows. A flock of gnats is called a ghost. It is an apt name. A flock of gnats in the canyon are not bothersome. One can walk or run through one without noticing them, unless one of hundreds happens to fall into your mouth, but flocks of hundreds of gnats visually appear and disappear like ghosts depending on their back-lighting.

In “Four Seasons” on this date, Barnes describes finding a sunflower in bloom in City Creek. (id. Nov. 9th).

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