Theodore Roosevelt National Park: Hiking the Upper Paddock Creek and Upper Talkington Trails

If you want to hike where no one else is at Theodore Roosevelt National Park, try the Upper Paddock Creek and Upper Talkington Trails.  While I was out there on a sunny and comfortable day in November, it was just me, the elk, and the pronghorns.  I had the complete 15 mile circuit to myself.

The Upper Paddock Creek Trail is reasonably level with a few sharp inclines up and down from the creek.  The creek has to be jumped a few times, and it takes a pretty good jump not to wind up in the murky water.  Luckily for me, it was chilly out while I was on this section of the trail and if there was any mud, it was frozen, so I got a head start on creek jumping.

Paddock Creek

 

Badlands along the Upper Paddock Creek Trail

One thing I noticed while I was hiking along was how eerily quiet it was.  There was no breeze, no birds, no animals.  I walked several miles before I saw the first group of elk.  The only bison I saw was dead and in a late stage of decomposition, nothing but hide and bones.  As for birds, I found two tree sparrows among some junipers, a flock of robins at the trailhead, heard a magpie, and saw three Townsend's solitaires.  Just before the trail started up a steep juniper slope, I found a deposit of petrified wood that included very large chunks.

Petrified wood

At the top of the hill, I could look back and see how far I had come.  I decided to eat my peanut butter sandwich and my carrots, the only food I had brought, giving little thought to the time, 10:00 in the morning.  I came to regret this decision as after about 12 miles I started talking to the horses to ask them if they would either give me a ride or if they had a sandwich.

Not a bad spot for lunch

Nearing the eastern boundary of the park, I noticed some pronghorns atop a hill at least half a mile away from me.  Pronghorns have very good eyesight and it was obvious they were aware of me down at the bottom of the valley.  Then they did something interesting: they came came closer to get a better look at me.  Satisfied that I was unwanted but not an immediate threat, they trotted down the backside of the hill and out of sight for the time being.  Later in the hike, I encountered a larger group of between 40 and 50 pronghorns at the bottom of a wide, grassy valley.  They, too, stirred, watched me, came in for a closer look, then decided to sprint to the hill behind me.  They circled around me and over the hill.  I was somewhat concerned when they started running; there was a very real possibility I'd find myself in the middle of a stampede.  Click to see a video of one detachment of the pronghorns running by.

Eventually the trail went steeply up the edge of the badlands and onto the grassy plain at the eastern boundary of the park.  I knew where I was because I could see the farmhouse that is near the Fryburg exit from the interstate, and that meant I was predictably near the wildlife handling area.  The trouble was that the trail tapered out into the grass and then - nothing.  The trail was completely gone.  No markers, no path, no sign of anything.  I just started marching through the grass knowing eventually I'd find the next valley over where I needed to come down.  In the end, I followed an animal trail down and cross-countried through a huge prairie dog town until I reconnected with the trail.  From there on out, the trail was wide, flat, and grassy.  I, on the other hand, was hungry.

Upper Talkington Trail

At one point along the Talkington, I was lost in thought staring at the grass glowing yellow in the afternoon sun when I rounded a small hill and found myself face to face with a group of elk.  They reminded me a lot of the group I photographed last December on that frigid day we did the bird count.  They may very well have been.  They looked at me for a moment, then trotted off in that regal manner the elk do, heads back and their huge bodies gliding smoothly over the terrain.

Overall, it was a good hike, though I was annoyed that it disappeared temporarily near the eastern boundary.  The character of the Upper Paddock Creek portion of the trail and the Upper Talkington portion was very different.  Paddock creek was much more rugged and nearer to impressive badlands features.  The Upper Talkington was more open, level, and grassy.  Either would be brutal on a hot day or on a windy day as there is no shelter to be had.  But they don't call it "badlands" for nothing.

Owl be Back

It was my first day back at Theodore Roosevelt, which was like coming home.  Only minor changes have occurred since I left: the grass is really tall this year, a few trees were planted in the administrative area of the park, the fence got replaced around the Maltese Cross Cabin, and a few different items are on the shelf in our bookstore.  The only major change was our new fee register, which I had to learn in about five minutes before flying solo.

Before lunch, a guy about my age came in and reported seeing a dead owl at the scenic overlook along I-94 west of Medora.  He explained that he felt bad leaving it there.  I told him I was pretty sure it was against the law to take the bird.  It is.  He immediately said, "Oh, well, it's in the back of my truck!  Do you want it?"

Long story short, that's how we came to have a dead owl in our freezer.

Whooping Cranes

Once you've seen one of the rarest birds in the world, what's left to accomplish?

Before departing Kansas, I had heard that there were two groups of whooping cranes, one at Quivira National Wildlife Refuge, and the other at a Kansas-run wildlife refuge called Cheyenne Bottoms.  I was disappointed I really did not have time to go looking for them since I was working, the days were getting shorter, and I didn't have time to search for a needle in a haystack.

I was pleasantly surprised when driving KS-156 out of Great Bend to see seven whooping cranes near the road.  I was driving 65 mph, saw a car stopped in a funny place alongside the road, and saw the huge, white birds not far off in a field north of the road.  I knew immediately what they were, but could hardly believe my eyes.  I turned around at the next road, which happened to be the entrance to Cheyenne Bottoms, and doubled back to the spot.  There, I saw what amounts to the Mount Everest of birding, the whooping crane.  I found six adults and one juvenile.

Whooping cranes, Nathan King photo

As recently as 1955, the total population of whooping cranes worldwide was only 21 individuals.  The migratory flock that traverses between Texas and Canada passes through Kansas numbered just 16 individuals in 1941.  Today, the same flock numbers over 200 individuals, and the total population of whooping cranes, including those in captivity, is only around 500.  Cranes in general have a low breeding rate and are highly sensitive to habitat disturbance.

There are seventeen species of cranes worldwide, and more than half of the species are threatened or endangered.  All of the species may be seen at the International Crane Foundation in Baraboo, Wisconsin, the premiere organization dedicated to the protection of cranes worldwide, and especially to assisting in efforts to reestablish the whooping crane in North America.  I have seen three species of cranes in the wild now, the sandhill crane and whooping crane of North America, and the grey crowned crane of Africa.  For more information of whooping cranes, visit the International Crane Foundation whooping crane webpage.

Whooping crane with chick, image hosted by ICF