The Interim

It's been a busy weekend. I got home from North Dakota in one piece, unlike some of the insane traffic speeding out of Minneapolis on the way north for the holiday. Amber's parents were visiting for the weekend. I was a little bit too stressed out (with the arriving, unpacking, fixing up everything that went wrong with the house while I was away, planting a new tree, resurrecting the fish tank (that goldfish is a survivalist), purging of North Dakota stuff from my traveling road show and replacing it with Pipestone materials, and loading up the car again), to be very entertaining. I was more of a crab. We found distractions.

At home, the robins have built two nests under the deck, but I can't tell if they're using either of them. What is being used is the exterior light by the front door, where barn swallows have taken up residence and have become somewhat of a terror. The nest prevented us from fixing the light, which does not work most of the time possibly because it simply is not screwed in properly or the socket is dirty. In the evening, the swallows go to roost and one can get a close and peaceful look at them. In the daytime, they fly around catching insects and if you're going in the front door, you had better do it in a hurry. One dive-bombed me after I got a little overconfident; I felt the wind and heard a "snap" sound as it broke its dive right by my right ear. I guess I'll be using the garage door in the meantime.

We saw Star Trek. It was great. I would watch it again. Unfortunately, every book or movie has been ruined by a class I took in college, Folklore 210: The African Storyteller. I took the class, like many others, because it simultaneously completed my mandatory ethnic studies and mandatory literature classes. The trap is that the class is actually really difficult and it forever alters the way any student in the class understands a story, effectively turning every story predictable. Instead of just enjoying the narrative, students instead forever look for patterns, repitition, and a general narrative of an unusual birth, leaving home, "shedding one's skin," and returning home. Maybe it's better if I just let you learn from Professor Harold Scheub. Anyway, the whole movie fit into everything I learned in that class, and so I appreciated it on a different level.

I got to use the grill. The need for an outdoor grilling table and a tub to store my charcoal became evident. We had steak and corn on the cob off the grill. I take far less pleasure in a big slab of meat than I used to. That's good because my goal is to lose 30 pounds this summer. I'm going to do it by depriving myself of a computer, thereby forcing myself to do things outside during the week.

I got a new guitar, replacing the one I bought when I was 13 and that was plagued with loose wiring, a short neck, and some plunky spots on the fretboard. Back when I bought it, I saved up for an entire year to buy the Fender DuoSonic in Kenosha, WI. This weekend, we were eating pizza, I saw the "guitar clearance" sign on the music store across the street, and I just walked in the store and effectively said, "That one," this time. It's a Fender Telecaster. It's a stout fellow. I like it a lot.

Nevermind the unfinished basement. That's a project for this fall when I'm unemployed again, though I like how bright and spacious it is down there without walls.

Guitar Solo! A cardboard cutout of Han lives in the basement. The guitar is photoshopped in, poorly.

We got a tree to replace the one that died last year. Hot summer, rough winter, and the little maple probably didn't get enough attention. We cashed in on the 2-year warranty and got a replacement.

How un-suburban to let my grass get this much less green than my neighbor's. The tree is a "Northwoods Maple," and its job, other than simply surviving, is to provide privacy from the big house looming up the hill. We did not pay to have the guy help us roll it in the hole, but he did it anyway, without asking.

Continuing the orgy of spending, we bought a new office chair to replace the chair that tried to kill me. I'm sitting on it now. Not bad at all. I just realized how boring this paragraph is.

Oh, I waxed the car! Nope, that's boring, too.

Oh yes, I saw red-eyed vireos, Baltimore orioles, gray catbirds, rose-breasted grosbeaks, yellow warblers, robins, house wrens, red-winged blackbirds, and more on a short walk along the Douglas Trail near our house. I'm not much fun to walk with for exercise because I don't get very far if I have binoculars. I had no idea that red-eyed vireos were common until I started really studying birds a year and a half ago.

Amid all the seeing, buying, and doing over the weekend, a local mannerism that annoys me has resurfaced. It is the tendency for people in this corner of Minnesota, at least, to attach the words "at all" to the end of sentences that do not require them. "Do you need a bag at all?" "Are you a member at all?" These are yes or no questions; there is no degree in between. Also, I don't think they want to discuss weather for a few minutes, which is what I'm used to after being in North Dakota so long.

The car is mostly loaded and ready for the trip out to Pipestone. My battle plan is to work hard there all week then come back home for the weekend. Over the summer, my project is to plant plants around the house. Our general plan is for woodland plants along the north side of the house, a rain garden in the low spot at the bottom of the hill, and for some edible plants where they fit in best. We have yet to decide whether to exploit the city's legally-allowed three chickens. Badgers are not allowed by law, darn it.

Migration

All week, the leaves have sprouted from the cottonwood trees and the bushes, the wild plum tree bloomed, and the bison calves have been dropping all over the place. The chickadees don't come to visit my window feeder anymore, but chipping sparrows, goldfinches, and house finches have been visiting, as well as the spotted towhees and lark sparrows feeding on the ground. Just tonight I finally saw lazuli buntings in the bush.

Today, I was awarded the National Park Service Star Award, which came with a cash bonus, for "exceeding expecations." I'm just glad to have had projects. There wasn't enough time to do everything I wanted to do. Next winter, maybe. That was a nice recognition from my superiors.

This week, I also received two gifts from visitors. A frequent visitor and backcountry camper from Minot gave me a copy of "A Voice Crying in the Wilderness: Notes From a Secret Journal" a book of quotes by Edward Abbey. The visitor once saw my copy of "Desert Solitaire" out on the desk and we chatted about it next time we crossed paths. It was nice of him to give me the book, in which he had provided an inscription in the front. I wasn't there to receive it from him, but another ranger put it in my inbox. Rangers are instructed not to accept tips, but no one has ever given me a book before. Anyway, if it's under $20 it's not considered unethical. It's not like I'm in a position to offer special favors anyway.

I also talked to a nice family from Montana about this and that. Having lived in Montana for part of five years, I picked up some cues as to the clothing and I fairly expected what came at the end of the conversation. The gentleman reached into his shirt pocket and handed me a pamphlet that told me what I have to do "to prepare to face God."

"There is no way that you can enter God's heaven until something is done about your sin." I wonder if flaunting it counts as "something."

There was a time when I would have been offended by this proselytizing, but I've learned just to smile, say "Thank you," and put it in my pocket. Whether it's just a tenet of their religion to bring people into their sphere or whether they actually care about me and my spiritual well-being, I cannot say. I'd like to think they actually care, but I don't think that's true. I actually read the pamphlet. I remained unconvinced god would smote me. Quoting Edward Abbey from the aforementioned book of quotes, "Fire lookout, 1400 hours, ferocious lightning storm. Me and God. That fucker is trying to get me again, God damn him. But I got me old .357..."

Ranger Wendy showed up on her way to Glacier and we took a spin around the park on Tuesday evening. Or was it Wednesday? I can't keep track anymore. She had never been to Theodore Roosevelt National Park before, and was on her way to Glacier National Park for the summer. She interned there with me in 2007 and celebrated her 40th birthday in the park that stifling hot summer. We saw plenty of wildlife, though just one elk. She was excited for the mountain bluebirds. I was excited for the warbling vireo.

Best buds!

I'm packing up tonight and leaving in the morning. It's time to say goodbye to the badlands for now. Now that it's warm, green, and alive outside, I have no place here. I like the cold anyway. Like the migrating birds I've been tracking, it's time for me to migrate on to another park in search of refuge. I start at Pipestone National Monument on Wednesday. I admit I have not been studying.

"Here is where the romance of my life began." Theodore Roosevelt

H.R.627

Want to destroy the National Parks? Just attach a rider to a bill everyone will want to pass in the wake of economic collapse, the Credit Cardholders’ Bill of Rights Act of 2009, H.R. 627. That's what Senator Coburn (R-OK) did to sneak a bill to allow any type of otherwise legal gun into a national park, where they are otherwise not allowed to be carried.

This bill would allow any gun owner to sit and watch Old Faithful erupt with a shotgun on his shoulder, to have a pistol on his belt as he strode off on a ranger-guided hike through the Redwoods, and you better believe wackos would be strapping for a hike through Glacier's bear country. Once those already nervous people saw a bear that did not yield, they could start blasting away at an endangered species in the name of "self-defense." It would not be long before such incidents became commonplace, killing animals and innocent bystanders.

The bill cleared the U.S. Senate today, because few senators would oppose a bill to reform credit card regulations. How did your senator vote on H.R. 627? It's too late to stop the Senate from making this mistake, but there is still hope in the House. There is little chance that Obama will veto the Credit Cardholder bill, and he has no track record of defending National Parks.

Take action and tell your representatives that this change to the law is harmful and irresponsible. The last, splintered havens in the United States where wildlife is treated as sacred and protected from human interference are under attack. Do it for the wildlife, but do it for your own safety, too.

Culture Shock

This four-day weekend, I logged 1,884 miles of driving to attend a graduation, a UW Alumni event, mark a birthday (the most important day of the year, she said), plus attend an early-morning bird walk just to make my schedule more hectic and myself more crabby. I made it as far as Brown Deer, WI. There are so many things to mention, I don't know quite where to begin.

When I left Medora on Thursday, May 13, it was snowing. That snow passed and turned into rain as I drove through it again on my way across the state. The next day, I got to drive through it again in Baraboo, WI.

Throughout North Dakota and Minnesota, there are ducks, geese, and other waterfowl in every pond. I saw great blue herons, great egrets, northern shovelers, northern pintails, American coots, mallards, blue-winged teals, American white pelicans, double-crested cormorants, and, most surprisingly, an American bittern.

I met with Mark Peterson of the Minnesota Chapter of the National Audubon Society, a fellow UW alum and a good guy to chat with, in St. Paul on my way through. I had been delayed by an hour-long construction delay (that, by the way, would not have developed into any sort of a slowdown in North Dakota), and he had been delayed by his previous meeting, so it was all right. We quickly figured out that we had actually met a few weeks earlier in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, but neither of us realized then that we already knew each other via e-mail. We ate at a bistro and I had the best turkey and wild rice soup ever. Period. We talked natural resources and birds, I did a little networking and got some good tips, and he bought lunch. Hmm, someone came out too far ahead in that deal.

In the evening, we attended a the Rochester Chapter of the University of Wisconsin - Madison Alumni Founder's Day event, in which incoming freshmen were awarded with scholarships. The meal was good, and the folks at our table were interesting. We bought raffle tickets but won nothing. I didn't think a $100 bid for the autographed hockey jersey would have been a big bid, but I chose not to bid. I think it went for $125, still a steal. I was a bit embarrassed not to have a nice Wisconsin polo shirt, tie, or lapel pin to show some sense of belonging, and I rectified that the next day in Madison.

Before that, I got up early and went to the early morning bird walk, a regular activity at the Quarry Hill Nature Center in Rochester, MN. Some of the local Audubon Society members come along, which is nice since they are pretty good at spotting and identifying birds. I usually try to avoid the really intense birding - it's more of a leisure activity for me than a contest - but these people were really seeing a lot of stuff. I saw four "life list" birds, ones I had never seen before, and three birds I had only seen once before. These people were good. The "life list" birds I saw included the magnolia warbler, bay-breasted warbler, Tennessee warbler, and palm warbler, and the ones I saw for the second time ever included the American redstart, chestnut-sided warbler, and blackpoll warbler. While I was of little help spotting the warblers, my relatively younger ears were better at picking up the high-pitched cedar waxwings, and I found some of the other birds that the group missed such as American goldfinch, white-throated sparrows, red-bellied woodpeckers, red-tailed hawk, Baltimore orioles, rose-breasted grosbeak, and the northern flicker.

Then, on to Madison, where we ate lunch at the East African restaurant Buraka, a favorite spot, ever more so because of our adventure in Tanzania. We stopped to get Amber's ring refinished on the way in, also, but then it was on our way to Brown Deer to visit mom. After a brief visit, we returned to Madison, checked into the hotel, and collapsed into bed. I had been up since 5:30 in the morning, driven something like 400 miles and seen all those birds, and had no energy left to go out and celebrate with my brother, the whole reason for the journey.

Justin finished up his Masters in International Public Affairs from the Bob LaFollette School of Public Affairs at the University of Wisconsin - Madison. The commencement was held in the assembly chamber of the state capitol building. I had last been in that building in the 4th grade, despite walking to, from, and around the building for four years as a student and Madison resident.

Wisconsin State Capitol

Inside the Capitol rotunda

The Assembly Chamber

Justin giving his "Lady Forward" pose. Lady Forward is the statue on top of the rotunda. His future is so bright, he has to wear sunglasses.

And now off to a career in government!

Back in Rochester, the barn swallows have built a nest on our front light again. They get a little excited when I get anywhere near the nest, but I don't mind having them there. It's fun to watch them strafe over the lawn, picking off insects. We also caught a glimpse of an Eastern towhee clinging to the tulips in the planter in front of the house. I had never seen the male of that species before, but I knew what it was.

Overall, the trip was a success, though I was in culture shock the whole time. So many cars, so many people, so much greenery and big trees. Everybody in a hurry. So many places to spend money. I had been asked last week whether I was going to miss North Dakota when I left, and I was ambivalent about it. Now I can say that I will miss it. There may not be all the conveniences of the midwest, but it's more than made up for with the room to spread out. Plus, the roads are in better shape.

Rain, Rain

It's the rainy season in Medora, and even though the chance of showers hovers daily at 30%, that has equated to rain about 30% of the time. It mostly depends which cloud you're under. The wild plum tree at the visitor center burst open with flowers over the weekend, and the smell is very nice. It is abuzz with insects during the day, which attracts warblers.

Wild plum tree

This afternoon, an orange-crowned warbler took a break during a shower and took a bath in the bush by my front window. After staring at that leafless bush all winter with chickadees and the occasional redpoll visiting, it's nice to see green leaves sprouting and a variety of birds coming to visit. Usually I don't get such a close look at a warbler, nor a chance to watch it as it remained perched for a minute. Once it stopped raining, I decided to put off packing for a sprint to Wisconsin this week to go out and look at birds in the neighborhood.

Orange-crowned warbler

I found a couple of cottonwood trees that had four or five warblers in it, both orange-crowned and yellow-rumped varieties. I have seen one or two yellow warblers, too. It took some patience and luck to get pictures of the warblers, since they never stop moving. I narrowly missed a great shot of an orange-crowned warbler, but there are no points for narrow misses. One warbler sallied out to catch an insect a few feet directly in front of me.

Yellow-rumped warbler

In the field, there were yellow clovers and this little purple plant. I'm not much of a plant expert, but given that it has four petals, that tells me "mustard," but that it is in a disturbed area also tells me it might be an exotic. Maybe someone knows. That reminds me to get a new wildflower book for the summer.

Mystery weed

There are still a few white-crowned sparrows about, but not flocks in our neighborhood. Those remaining will be on their way north shortly. Field sparrows have been singing every morning, an unmistakable sound best described as a ping-pong ball being dropped. A couple nights ago, Valerie and I spotted an unidentifiable Empidomax sp. flycatcher - they are impossible to distinguish without sound, but I'll put my money on willow flycatcher - in the wooded area near Peaceful Valley Ranch, an Eastern bluebird near the campground (rare in the park), and a flight of about 8 Franklin's gulls.

White-crowned sparrow

In administrative news, after a series of setbacks, the Watchable Wildlife poster I created for the Painted Canyon Visitor Center got printed and installed today. It had caused some chest pains over the weekend as some sort of error caused the printer not to print the last 6 inches of the 60" poster. Also, in A/V world, I installed the remote control for the computer. There was a little bit of concern that the remote wouldn't be able to talk to the receiver inside the building while the ranger was outside, but it turned out that the remote worked no matter where I walked in the amphitheater. Success! I deserve a cold one.

We visited the Beaver Creek Brewery in Wibaux, MT a couple weeks ago. I found it to be an interesting place. I tried the Amber Ale. I liked it. I tried it two more times just to make sure I liked it. They brew it right there in the same room they serve it. Pretty good value, and good beer.

North Dakota Heritage Museum and Knife River Indian Villages

It was time for me to renew my Red Cross First Aid (every 3 years) and my CPR/AED (every year) this week, and I traveled to Bismarck, ND to the Red Cross office to take care of it. Last year, I was able to retrain with the park, but the schedule with moving over to Pipestone made that impossible. I was pleased to be able to do the training portion of the recertification online, through a curriculum put together mostly by the Red Cross of Greater Indianapolis. Having different videos to watch and the ability to get up and move around more often and not worrying about how bored I looked while watching the video really made for smooth sailing. With the three hours of classes out of the way, doing the practical portion in Bismarck went quickly.

Amber had decided to take the day off of work and tag along. She studied her project management book while I was performing CPR on mannequins, which, to me, looked a lot like taking a nap, based on what I saw when I got back to the car. We had debated what to do while there, and I suggested the North Dakota Heritage Center, located across the street from the brutal state capitol building.

We walked around outside a little bit before going into the museum, finding a statue of Sacagawea, another of a bison, and then proceeded through the unnecessarily angled doors to the Heritage Center. A retired man volunteering there greeted us, and proceeded to give us the "brief" explanation of the museum, which felt like it took ten minutes as he brutally explained every corner of the museum in alternating excruciating detail and frustrated forgetfulness. I sort of stopped listening when he talked about people "coming to North Dakota," and then indicating that "I guess the Indians were coming here at that same time, 1733, too." No, dude, they were here for about 9,000 years before that, as your museum indicates with all the clovis spear points. I felt sorry for him and just wanted to take the map and be on my way.

The museum is divided into every facet of North Dakota history, starting with natural history. There is an impressive bird collection. Amber and I played a bird ID game where I tried to ID all of them. It's hard with taxidermied birds all mixed together because the context of habitat, behavior, and sound are all taken away, plus the feathers lose some of their color over time.

Beyond that was a section of paleontology. My favorite was the dromaeosaur display, a dinosaur that is about 6 feet long with that long tail. The resemblance to modern birds is striking, yet because of the clawed hands, seems that much more terrifying. If these were running around today, people would freak out. I think they're awesome. I often look at modern birds and think of them as dinosaurs.

Behind the dromaeosaurs was a nice, big picture of the Little Missouri badlands - my home - with a model of a big, honking oil well in front of it. How sad that someone would be proud of this. Speaking of the badlands, and of terrifying beasts, how about this prehistoric bison?

One exhibit highlighted the importance of bison for native peoples, explaining in the usual ways how different parts of the bison could be used for a number of purposes. You had to look on the opposite wall to see the most interesting point about that, though, which was a seeminly out of place black barrel labeled "crude oil." The message by the barrel contained a warning that the natives' dependence on bison was not unlike our dependence on oil today.

As we continued clockwise around the museum, time progressed through the 18th and 19th centuries, which included diary entries from early settlers questioning why they had tried to live in such a terrible, terrible place. Norwegian stubbornness paid off eventually. There was a display that showed some of the familiar Norwegian colors and designs used on clothing and other household items.

Tucked away near the entrance, seemingly almost an afterthought, was a display on the Cold War. We almost skipped it in our desire to get back outside and on to Famous Dave's for lunch, but I was glad I detoured over to it. This little cove of the museum described North Dakota's role as the front line of the Cold War, mainly because Minot AFB was a nuclear strongpoint. A map compiled from information obtained from the former Soviet Union in 1990 showed all of the nuclear targets in the state that would have been bombed by the Soviets if it had come to that.

The centerpiece of the Cold War exhibit was a reconstruction of one fellow's bomb shelter, basically a transplant of the actual shelter. It was eerie, the stuff of video game legend. It had all of its original accoutrements including canned food, cots, sanitation kits, citizens band radio, and survival guides.

One of the placards explained that fallout shelters were "a fad of the 1950s and 1960s," and that what the government did not tell people was that, fallout shelter or not, they were screwed in the event of a nuclear attack. They had an actual school desk and an explanation of "Duck and Cover" to highlight the futility. Putting that stuff in a museum setting seemed to highlight the futility.

Following lunch, and a shopping excursion for new shoes and a wok (it's a pun, but it's true), we continued on to the Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site. We walked around the earth lodge, which was stocked with all of its artifacts, and took the walk out to the two village sites near the visitor center. I observed clay-colored sparrows and tree swallows, and Amber found the white-crowned sparrows. I knew well enough to expect pheasants to explode out of the grass, but they seemed to take Amber by surprise the couple of times it happened. I have a double hatred of pheasants, first as a non-native species wrecking the balance of native plants and animals and second as a threat to pleasant walking and driving. It's easy to find bones emerging from the soil around the village sites, indicating that these villages were occupied not so long ago. I found a partially worked piece of flint, and reburied it as I had done when I walked around the site with one of the rangers there on my first official visit to the site back in 2007, so that others would not disturb it or steal it.

Along the river at the site, the power of the Knife River to erode the banks in the last flood was evident. Iron spikes for the barbed wire fence along the trail had been bent over 90 degrees and a lot of debris had floated up to the trail. In another area, flooding wiped out part of the park's service road. Flooding did uncover some interesting new features, as an article in the Bismarck Tribune indicated.

On the home front, the leaves continue to sprout from the bushes and much-anticipated summer birds are becoming more numerous. White-crowned sparrows have been visiting the seed I put out for the birds by my apartment, as have some spotted towhees and a Lincoln's sparrow. I also heard a field sparrow yesterday. The towhees are fun to watch. It's the closest I can get to attracting a dromaeosaur to my window.


Lastly, I would like to mourn the passing of an old companion, a juice pitcher from my childhood. The seal was getting leaky and dumping precious orange juice on the counter whenever I poured it, and its time for a replacement finally came.

The Greening

Spring has arrived in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. The grass is green, the trees are blooming, and summer birds are arriving. It's windy as heck every day, but that is to be expected.


I habitually took the short walk out to Wind Canyon Overlook. It was brutally windy and I was just glad it wasn't below zero like it is most of the time I'm here. From there, I saw three horses on the floodplain below the overlook and a rock wren near the trail. There were only a couple pasqueflowers left, but there were several patches of Hood's phlox taking over the wildflower show.

Hood's phlox

In the campground, the cottonwood trees were not quite as far along as they are in town. They are beginning to bloom, bringing in the insects. In turn, the insects attracted a couple of orange-crowned warblers that I would not have seen if I had not stopped to take a picture of the blossoms on the tree. One darted right in front of me at arm's length.

Flowers on a cottonwood tree getting ready to open

In the Cottonwood Picnic Area, I searched for bison that might be dropping calves there. They prefer the area because the woody growth helps them to hide their newborn calves. There were none to be found, but their tracks were all over. I was able to spot a spotted towhee instead. The bison have been hard at work removing their winter coats, giving many of the trees a ghost-like appearance as the fur sways in the wind.

Bison fur

I've also been able to spot a flock of migrating white-crowned sparrows and quite a few vesper sparrows. I found a group of pronghorns laying down just north of Wind Canyon. They were surprisingly cooperative, for once.

American Pronghorn

The wild horses were not difficult to find on the eastern part of the loop road. I was happy to find the ghost-faced foal I had seen at a distance a week or so ago.

This mare was by herself and looked ready to drop her foal any day.

When I stopped to take a photo of the foal mentioned above, one of the mares in the band came over to challenge me. She trotted right up to the nose of my car and stared at me, sniffed the car, and then just watched me, unflinching. I was about 87% sure she would either kick the front of my car or stick her head in my window. I talked to her and told her it was OK. I backed the car up. She followed me a little bit, then went on her way. It was a nervous couple of minutes.

For more information about the horses, there is no better resource available online than Wild Horses of Theodore Roosevelt National Park, a blog with an ever-growing body of knowledge of the horses as a whole, as bands, and as individuals.

Spring Miscellanea

I had been waiting to post until I had something with a theme, but it's apparent that isn't happening anytime soon. At the risk of falling way behind, I will present in note form.

1. I found a place to live in Pipestone. I hate renting.

2. The cottonwood trees are blooming, as are a few prairie wildflowers. It gets greener outside every day. No pictures to prove it right now. Weather has been pleasant if a little bit of spitting rain now and then.

3. The chipping sparrows are back in force, as are grackles. No warblers yet, but any day now. I heard a white-throated sparrow last week, but never saw any. Frowny-face.

4. I spent about 6 hours laboring over a projector swap-out at the visitor center. Without getting into the details, it involved some extremely tricky work to get the lenses swapped out. It was tedious, I had to find the right tools at the maintenance shop, and until I got that one pesky last screw out, I didn't think it was going to happen. Just knowing that it had been done once before kept me going as much as the superintendent's encouragement that it was wrecked anyway and it didn't matter if I made the old projector any worse. I think I had 31 screws on the table at one point, and somehow only 29 of them found their way back in. They were redundant anyway. Next time, the park will just have to buy a projector where the lens snaps in, like in our new projector setup at the campground. I probably saved the park - and the taxpayers - $10,000. Take that to the bank, crybabies.

5. I participated in karaoke night at La Playa Mexican Restaurant in Beach. I hold the distinction of being the lowest score on the opening round of that new tradition. It wasn't because I didn't know the words to my selection of "Fat" by Weird Al Yankovic, but because the karaoke machine was all wrong. Whatever. Valerie won the contest, achieving a lifelong goal and a $50 prize. If it took me coming in last to enable that to happen, I can live with that. My "consolation" prize was a free drink token, as if to say, "Yeah, you might have done better if you had downed a couple margaritas before attempting that."

6. The panic over swine flu is ridiculous. Some statistics: There have been 985 cases reported WORLDWIDE and only 26 deaths. For comparison, an average of 100 people die in automobile crashes in the United States alone EVERY SINGLE DAY. History Lesson: in 1976, the U.S. Government required mandatory inoculations against a swine flu outbreak; one person died of swine flu and 25 died from the inoculation. Get real, people.

7. Twice this week I have answered questions about concealed weapons in the park. Federal law prohibits concealed weapons in national parks. Period. "Yeah, we were thinking of backcountry camping in the park and were wondering about taking our handgun with us." What do you think you are possibly going to use it for?

8. Ranger Mary Ellen and I put together a chart of the low temperatures in Medora in the starvation winter of 1886-1887 in which Theodore Roosevelt lost 60% of his cattle (some ranchers lost up to 80%) and the unusually severe winter of 2008-2009. The results are fairly interesting, and are illustrated below. The blue line is 1886-87, and the temperatures were measured not far away in Glendive, MT. Some of the data was missing. The red line was this past winter. The dashed line is the freezing point.

Most interesting is the trend from January to February. In 2009, it gradually trended warmer, but in 1886-87 is stayed about the same or even trended slightly colder. Brutal. Hopeless. Endless winter.

I mention endless winter again because it has been chilly, wet, and cloudy a lot lately. I can't complain because my nose hairs don't freeze on the way to work anymore, but I guess I kind of miss that.

9. I'm headed to Bismarck on Thursday to finish up my CPR/AED and First Aid training. I took the classes online, which was slick and easy, but I have to go do the practical part. CPR for the Professional Rescuer was not available in North Dakota, which is what I originally learned for lifeguarding when I was 15, and the relatively easy regular CPR/AED is a breeze. No bag valve masks (BVMs) or two-person CPR in the standard course. It's interesting that in a decade, several things have changed about CPR, such as the compression ratios (relatively more chest thrusts now) and how to deal with active choking. Spending the day in Bismarck presents restaurant opportunities. I had assumed we would automatically be going to Famous Dave's but Amber doesn't want to do that. I think that's more insane that not using a breathing barrier when you do CPR.

20 days left at Theodore Roosevelt... For now.