Oregon Field Guide; 1991-10-03

Tonight on Oregon Field Guide, the wild Kiger mustangs of eastern Oregon Steen's Mountain. There are no other horses quite like them in all of the United States. Tonight, you'll get a rare opportunity to see them in all of their natural splendor, including ?Mesteño?, the legendary lead stallion. And then, buried among the magnificent scenery of Hell's Canyon is a museum of the Northwest's prehistoric past. Join us as we unearth the lifestyles of the area's first people. And, finally, it's no secret Oregon's salmon runs are in trouble. We'll show you the latest scientific techniques to help preserve them. Good evening and welcome to another edition of Oregon Field Guide. I'm your host, Steve Amen. Well, there's a lot about Oregon that is unique and our first report certainly illustrates that. A couple of months back, a viewer wrote to us about a rare herd of wild Kiger mustangs living in eastern Oregon. Having spent a lot of time around horses as a kid, I was naturally intrigued and wasted no time in heading to Burns for what turned out to be an adventure of a lifetime.

Anytime you want to see anything in Harney County, you can count on a pretty long drive. Over here you just have to relax and just kind of-- kind of roll with the lay of the land because it takes-- there's so many miles between points that you sort of slow down. Mark Armstrong, with the Bureau of Land Management, and Ron Harding, Wild Horse Management Specialist, are our guides for the day. We don't think anything about driving 70 or 80 miles to-- just to have a picnic or go fishing, or enjoy the scenic beauty that's here. And part of that scenic beauty is the abundant wildlife in the area. There you go. Man, he had to go 'cause when he went over to that one, didn't he? We saw a lot of deer on the trip and learned quite a bit about animal behavior in the process. ?That fur-perch strategies?, Arm. That's very wild. What, are they eating the bugs off 'em? Flies, yeah.

A couple minutes later, we left the paved road to head into Diamond Valley. This is a rugged, beautiful part of the country, rich with history. And Ron likes nothing better than to take a couple of minutes to point out some of the more unusual features of the area, like this rock fence at the top of Diamond Grade. The settlers built this over 100 years ago. Lot of work and they had a lot of time. [laughter] But most of the attractions aren't manmade. We were constantly taking time out to stop and smell the flowers. Thanks to all the rain, there was plenty to look at. You see where the highest knob is right here with a little bit-. Just across the road was the first glimpse of our ultimate destination. The other side of that rim is a Kiger herd management area, okay? I don't see them over there yet, but they're there somewhere. We should get in there and be able, hopefully, we'll get in there and be able to see some of the animals in their

native habitat, and see some of the babies. A couple of miles further on and we took the turnoff for the Kiger Mustang management area and the spot setup for viewing the herds, and we should warn you, don't try this road if you don't have four-wheel-drive or if it's been raining. The management areas lie north of Kiger Gorge on the northern perimeter of the Steen's Mountains. They cover about sixty-six thousand acres for a little over 100 Kigers. So, you can imagine just how tough it is to find them. But we were able to get off the so-called main road, and head right into the heart of Kiger country where we spotted them. They're about halfway up on your screen. Look at 'em. Look at 'em! Oh, my God. Gray's. Claybank mare. There's two stud bands up there. I have not seen a pile of Kigers together like that one, ever. In all my life.

We were all excited as we began the slow process of quietly making our way. It'll take us probably a good hour to get on 'em. We wanted to make sure we didn't alert them to our coming. So, we made a wide circle around the Kigers. As we get up on this hill, we'll-- we'll cut our chatter because they've got pretty good ears on 'em. People, they think they're-- they're easy to get on. And they are, but they're about like a deer or an elk that's out in the wild. We hiked for about an hour before we made it to the top of the ravine and were rewarded with a closer look at the mysterious Kiger. [whispering] There's one right there. It just sinks back, right? Most tip over a little bit. See him down there, switching his tail. In order to get even closer, Ron decided it was best if he and our photographer, Todd, went on alone. And his strategy worked. [whispering] Right here they are. Right in my spare, Right here. Right in my spare mare.[?]

Surviving in the Wild has made the horses very alert to unusual movement. So Ron uses the junipers as cover as he moves in. [whispering] Get down, get down, lay down! Here they are, get 'em. The Kiger Mustang is probably the best representative of the Spanish type Mustang left running wild on the range today. [whispering] We got stock, good work. Ron believes the Kigers are descendants of the Spanish mustangs brought here in the 1600's. For almost a hundred years people thought they were extinct on the open range. But in 1974, Ron began to hear rumors of a unique herd of horses in the area. Three years later, he found the Kigers. Ron says extensive blood testing links them to Spanish breeds, so the BLM has isolated them from other wild horses to keep the bloodline pure. In characteristic of the Spanish mustangs,

the Kigers are slightly smaller than other breeds, with distinctly hooked ear tips and fine muzzles. But most noticeable is their coloring, known as a dun factor, which includes red dun, mouse gray, and claybank, what some call buckskin, with orange coloring on the high points. To get a better look Ron kept creeping in closer. But he never made it very far. [bird trilling] [whispers] He's running for the woods. He's got us zeroed [?] so big. That stallion will always come out and challenge it, so you know, that's coming down to thousands and thousands of years, these horses, I would say, are just as wild as they were before man ever saw 'em. You know? The stallions were particularly alert today. And a couple of minutes later, we found out why. Look at this horse lying down flat. That stud. [horse whinnies] He's a nicker, that one. He wants company.

That's the one that's been trying to steal the mares. He didn't make it quite, did he? But the real thrill of the day was seeing Miss Daniel, the legendary lead stallion. He got to be 22-23 years old and he has, uh, 16 head with him. Even as old as he is. He is quite a cutter, you know. I mean, he's still doing what a stallion's supposed to do, I guess. [whispering] Be careful, he'll see us. He's standing there looking. Just be still, don't move. Too late, they did spot us and decided it was time to move on, but their exit was quite a show. And watching these magnificent animals in their native habitat has to be one of my all time thrills. The Kigers are part of the BLM's Adopt-A-Horse program. Every three or four years, a

few of those incredible animals are available for adoption. And the fee? An even more amazing $125. Now there's a real deal. [digging, talking, sifting sounds] The Grand Canyon of the Snake River, also known as Hells Canyon, is a spectacular recreation spot. But the canyon also has a history of human use dating back thousands of years. A joint project by the University of Wisconsin, the Forest Service, and other universities is unearthing a small but important part of that history. You can drive in the Lower Hells Canyon. If you've got good tires and good brakes, there's a long road down to Pittsburgh Landing on the Idaho side. But most visitors see this part of the Snake River from the water, rafting down from Hells

Canyon Dam or jet boating up from Lewiston. But long before jet boats and four-wheel drive, even thousands of years before the first horses, people came to Hells Canyon. They walked in, and they left behind their art as well as various objects from their everyday lives. Look at this. We've got bone awl points out off the floor in here. They're needle points of some kind. Those first people were ancestors of today's Nez Perce Indians. Most of what we know about them comes from archeologists. Do you know what promentary [?] pegs look like? No. You pound them in and you stretch the hide out around them. That's what those look like to me. The early Indians were hunters and gatherers. In warmer weather, they wandered the forests, but they spent their winters here. In winter, this, says Frank Leonhardy, is where the food was. At that time of year, there's the greatest diversity right here. So people were, in the past, positioning themselves, if you will, in the center of the supermarket.

Larger game animals would be here - down from the frozen hills. Freshwater mussels and edible plant roots were plentiful in the early spring. The winter houses were built over pits dug in the ground. Two house pits are visible there on the Idaho side. They were excavated by the Smithsonian in the 1950's. And here, just across the river, another house is being excavated today. Seven winter houses have been identified here at Tryon Creek. Three had already been looted by artifact collectors. The pits were originally dug several feet deep and covered with animal hides. The house being excavated is one of the largest ever found in this area. It's too hot. Thanks a lot. A dozen students from colleges around the country are camped here for a month of digging. This may have been a supermarket of winter food resources, but this summer, it's an oven. Frank is an archeologist from the University of Idaho, and the project leader.

He's been studying the ancestral Nez Perce for over 25 years. They got their living and survived directly from the land, and that they did so for more than 10,000 years indicates that they were pretty successful. How did they live? What, what was it like to live here 3,000, 5,000, 10,000 years ago? If you took any one of us and plopped us down here right now and said we will come back in 50 years and see how you're doing, we would probably make it six months? At best? [dig sounds] The digging, sifting, and sorting is painstakingly slow. But there is an unspoken urgency to this project. In recent decades, what little evidence we have of these ancient Indians has been disappearing at an alarming rate. Oh, look at that! Already, many of the archeological sites along the Snake River are underwater, flooded by hydroelectric dams, and most of the sites that remain have been looted.

But this one was untouched. I think maybe it was so big that the pot hunters, the relic collectors didn't recognize it as a house pit. Clean that out of the way. Let me borrow your trowel and interfere here for a little bit. Frank thinks this pit was abandoned nearly 500 years ago, after about 1,000 years of use. And this is a very complicated archeological site, and we're trying to peel it a little at a time. And when you try to peel the layers of dirt that are a couple, three centimeters thick that look like all of the other layers of dirt, it becomes a great challenge. From my particular point of view, this is far more interesting than an Egyptian pyramid. Far more interesting. And, in its own way, as challenging. Inside the house, the students have uncovered some mussel shells spread around a rock that may have been the kitchen table. Lee Sappington says the mussels or clams probably weren't very tasty. They were like macaroni and cheese at the end of the month. Clams are usually considered sort of a desperation or emergency food,

And maybe by the time they were eating the clams it was about time to move on to another site. Which may explain the sloppy housekeeping. There'd be no reason to move the shells out the way if they're going on. It was easier just to pack up and go on. This is from one of our squares, this was just a, just completely excavated. We have a variety of things. We have flakes, we have burned bone, We have a variety of the projectile points. Of course, all of the points we see are broken. And you can see this one is broken across here. These have been-- [fades away] The projectile points, what we've always called arrowheads, are evidence of the productive hunting that must have occurred here every winter. You can see over here is a large grinding stone. We call this a hopper mortar base. The women that used this would have used a pounding tool called a pestle and pulverized foods. Maybe the uh-. Stone tools are Lee's specialty. This grinding stone was left behind by pot hunters when they vandalized this house pit. Either they didn't recognize it or it was just too heavy to take.

He doesn't expect the students to find many treasures this size. Most of the artifacts at the excavation will be small stone flakes, the waste products of toolmaking. We learn a lot by studying those. The best materials for tool making, like obsidian, are not naturally found in Hells Canyon. The Indians made many of their implements elsewhere and carried in here only smaller, partially finished blanks to make replacement tools. With a box of Band-aids nearby, Lee makes demonstration tools and flakes to help the students identify the real thing. The main excavation here is in the center of the house pit, but nearby areas are being dug, too. Most of the artifacts tend to be outside the house as part of cleaning up their houses, is keeping their floors clean, whatever. Just off the side of it would be a good place to find a lot of refuse.

The only fish we ever see in the river are suckers. But in prehistoric times, water must have run thick with salmon and steelhead. Hopefully what we're looking for is fish. Vertebra. Vertebra and spines. The students wash and examine soil taken from the house. But - and this is one of the mysteries of this excavation- they find almost no evidence of fishing or fish. I don't see any fishbone yet. Frank has a possible explanation. Fish are taken out of the water. They're filleted and dried right on the water. And by tradition, Indian people maintain that the bones had to be returned to the water, because the salmon would not come back if they weren't treated with proper respect, proper ritual, part of the ritual of returning the bones to the water. Each day of digging generates at least three days of work later at a university to

analyze what's found here. Rodent tooth. Whole jaw. That's a jaw? That's a small rodent. And don't scrape back into the area you've already cleaned. Scrape away from the area you've cleaned. This is, in fact, a class. It's a university class. This is the classroom. It's all lab work. There isn't much reading and there are no term papers. It's not like Indiana Jones type of a thing or whatever. Don't expect it, I mean, it's not gonna be that exciting, but I'm having a good time basically. The hours are kind of harsh. [laughs] Not only the students are learning in this classroom. The entrance is over there. Many local outfitters bring the river tour groups to visit. This is the fourth floor from the top. The third floor is right there. Frank, in the Forest Service, which manages this area, thinks that public awareness is the best defense against vandalism. Generally, public awareness about these things and public interest in them has done much more to protect them than, than any threat of prosecution.

The Nez Perce, whose reservation is a couple of hours away, also worry about vandalism. The tribe supports projects like this one and is kept up to date on the excavation. The Indians are especially concerned about burial sites. Bruce Womack, a Forest Service archeologist, says if a burial site is discovered, the digging will stop. Let's say, for example, that in the far end of that block, if we were to encounter what appeared to be a burial, we would cease excavation in- in the part of the block involving the burial, get in contact with the tribal council, and it would eventually be their decision on the disposition of that particular burial. Sure. The Tryon Creek excavation will take two more summers to complete. The work here is dusty and tedious, but as Frank says, the knowledge being gathered about the first residents is in its own way, priceless.

We don't recognize bows and arrows and, and, uhm, hammerstones or crude stone tools as sophisticated. In fact, they are very sophisticated, because they represent a fund of knowledge about how to live, about how to survive. So although it's not glamorous, although it's not glamorous, it is still very human. At least 10 distinct layers of floor have been identified within the house. Outside the home the students found an intact 7-inch stone knife believed to be an amazing 5-6 thousand years old. On a sadder note, Frank Leonhardy died on another dig just outside of Hells Canyon a month after we shot this report. We will certainly miss his contributions to our gaining a better understanding of the past. Okay, twenty-one nine.

The return of salmon to our streams to spawn is a phenomena as old as the memory of Native American tribes. But overfishing and dam constructions have put some very important salmon runs at risk. Jim Newman reports that Oregon and Washington fishery experts are relying more and more on sophisticated scientific techniques to help preserve the salmon resource. For Chinook salmon, the spring spawning run is well underway in the Columbia River. Soon, perhaps 200,000 Chinook will have entered the Columbia. They are returning east to tributaries where they were born, streams like the Willamette River and the Snake. The spring Chinook run is lucrative for gillnet fishermen here at the mouth of the Columbia. Spring Chinook are premium fish that retail for 12 dollars a pound, a single fish can be worth $200 in the store. The gillnet fishermen would gladly take as many of the fish as they could catch, but the fish are not plentiful enough to allow unrestricted harvest.

In fact, some Chinook bound up the Columbia past Bonneville Dam to the Snake River are under consideration for endangered species status. Should fishermen collect too many wild Chinook from the Snake, biologists fear the very survival of that fish could be threatened. Here is Washington State fish biologist Mark Miller. All of a sudden, you've over-harvested the fish that we're headed above Bonneville. What's the possible impact of that overharvest? If they don't get back this year, they won't be back, there won't be any to come back four years from now because they didn't spawn. There were no fish spawning. And it would take a long time to build those stocks back up again. So we could end up having some tributaries with no fish- -Eliminated? If we weren't careful, yeah. Oh, look at that beauty there. To avoid depleting streams where salmon populations are already dangerously low, Oregon and Washington carefully regulate the spring Chinook gillnet season.

There is a strict limit on the number of Snake River spring Chinook the gill netters can take. The problem is that no one can tell the difference between threatened Chinook and the healthy stocks. But biologists are using an advanced scientific technique to get a reliable picture of where Chinook caught in gillnets come from. Researchers collect tissue from hundreds of gillnetted salmon. The tissue is rushed to a lab in Olympia, Washington, where each heart and liver is tested for its genetic characteristics. Through a process called electrophoresis, genetic differences from samples of the netted fish are examined by biologists and lab technicians. Once the genetic information is in hand, it will be fed into a computer. The computer already knows the genetic makeup of hundreds of salmon found in the tributaries up and down the Columbia. The computer will compare that information already on hand with the genetic

characteristics from the fresh sample of gillnetted Chinook. Using that genetic comparison, the computer can calculate what percentage of the recently gillnetted salmon come from what area on the Columbia. Biologist Ann Marshall supervises the Olympia lab. She says the information gathered here really helps Oregon and Washington officials manage and protect the spring Chinook. It's very efficient and we feel it's very accurate and barring some kind of disaster in the laboratory, we have no trouble providing it when they need it. It is not that genetic sampling identifies individual fish and where they come from. Sampling cannot give an accurate count of each threatened spring Chinook caught on its way to the Snake River. Instead, the computer provides a statistical model that alerts fishery managers when the gillnetters have taken their quota of threatened Chinook. There's a great consensus amongst the people who use the Columbia River salmon that

this is a accurate tool and a tool that they accept. For the 1991 spring Chinook gillnet season, for example, regulations limited the harvest to about 13,000 fish. To protect the weakened Snake River and other up-river stocks only 2,100 Chinook can come from streams above Bonneville Dam. Careful genetic monitoring of the gillnet catch will let fisheries managers close gillnet season before too many Snake River Chinook are caught. Besides the gillnet season here at the mouth of the Columbia, Spring Chinook face many obstacles on their way upstream to their spawning grounds. Realistically, only a very few wild spring Chinook will reach the Snake River to spawn and boost the depressed population. But careful genetic monitoring of the gillnet season is one step towards return of the wild Snake River Spring Chinook. Not all of the Spring Chinook stocks are in trouble.

We're told the Willamette River Spring Chinook are in good shape, with annual runs approaching 100,000 plus. If you'd like to find out more about the rese,arch project, or how to adopt the Wild horse. or suggestions for future stories, please drop us a line at Oregon Field Guide, Care of OPB, 7140 Southwest MacAdam, Portland, Oregon, 97219. And that's it for this edition of Oregon Field Guide. Thanks for joining us. We'll see you next week. [music and birds chirping] Tonight, on Oregon Field Guide. [water rushing]

You didn't make that eddy! Oregon's wild and scenic Rogue River offers up a challenging but thrilling whitewater ride. Join us on a raft trip through the legendary Rogue. Oh, this is just magnificent. [water lapping] So pretty, it doesn't look real, does it? [birdsong] Then, we'll take you to higher ground as we report on forest management and its impact on cavity-nesting birds. And finally, a look at how once abandoned railroad lines are now providing a unique recreational opportunity closer to town. Good evening, and welcome to another edition of Oregon Field Guide. I'm your host, Steve Amen. Early adventurers risked their lives exploring wild rivers cascading through the canyons of the West. But today, thanks to modern equipment, almost anyone can enjoy a safe trip on a whitewater river. Tonight, we join a couple as they get behind the oars for their first trip on Oregon's wild and scenic Rogue River.

Blossom Bar, Mule Creek Canyon. Zane Grey. These are some of the names that draw visitors to the legendary Rogue River. There's the incredible scenery as the river cuts through the mountains on its 215-mile run from Crater Lake to the Pacific, and bald eagles, deer, and other wildlife. But most of all, there's a chance to get away - really away - from work, from telephones, television, even the daily news. Where are you going to put everything? Huh? [laughter] But before the journey can begin, all essentials must be packed in waterproof bags. For Denny and Joanne Jenkins, it's their first trip on the Rogue. To think about the rapids that we've heard so much about and read and to be able to experience them, yeah, that's, that's a real thrill. It's an adventure. Definitely. To make the adventure complete, they've decided to row themselves.

From what they're talking about, some of the rapids that we're gonna go down, it's a little scary. [laughter] a little scary![laugher] How many people have rowed? Denny has rode a raft once before. But Joanne never has. So they've joined a guided trip to make sure the experience is safe as well as fun. Dan ?Guyer? is lead guide. If you watch my boat or the guide boats, that's where you want to go. On dry land, Dan shows the new boaters how to avoid trouble. Way you gain control on a rowboat is by going slower than the current, Dan requires that every boater wear a life jacket on the river. Finally, it's time to shove off. The trip starts on an easy stretch of river where everyone can practice rowing. It's a good time to work on your stroke. Nice even strokes. Right now it's kind of spread out. Just befoe the rapids, Dan shouts instructions about the best route. Now, this next rapids - right of center. Pass that back. Right of..right of center. Right of center! Right of center on the next one!

Right of center! Right of center on the next one. [water rushing] OK, good, Bill. Come on across. Danny, watch your angle there. Everyone does okay in the rapid, and Dan is encouraged as the boats bunch up in the quiet water below. OK. Nice job. Everybody hit their first eddy, a very good sign. [laughter] The next rapid is a little harder. Dan doesn't expect any real problems. At this water level, it's pretty much going to be big water, just big waves. Lot's of fun stuff. I'll be at the bottom, kind of pointing which direction. One of those big waves curls back and could be dangerous. Eddie makes a good run. Slipping by the edge of a wave. But the next boat has trouble. His rowing skills aren't good enough yet to follow Dan's instructions to move left. On this section, rafters share the river with jet boats taking customers on tours from

Grant's Pass, but motorized boats are prohibited below the bridge at Grave Creek. That's a federally protected, wild-and-scenic section. And the road gets both more scenic and more wild, starting right away with Grave Creek Falls. [water rushing] Down the middle. Down the middle. [water rushing] Lots of splash, but no problem. Now we need to bail out the boat a little bit. Rainie ? Falls is too dangerous to run, So the guides take the boats around, down the narrow fish ladder. [water rushing] It's a bumpy ride, much appreciated by the people watching from the bank. There's another treat waiting around the next bend. There's an Osprey up here. He's gonna dive down and catch some fish. [water lapping]

No fish on that attempt. But he shook himself off, and moments later came flying by with dinner clutched between his claws. And speaking of dinner, it's time to make camp. Camping is so much fun. Hah! And it's so easy. But we have extra pieces. No, don't worry about the extra pieces. Denny and Joanne have never put up this kind of tent before. I don't know. It doesn't look right, but I like it. When do we ask for help from somebody that has a tent like this? No, no. It's a sign of weakness when you ask for help. Joanne figures out where those extra pieces should go, and the tent's ready. Well, I have to admit it. I don't really want to admit that my wife was right. You have to- no. -admit it Now there's time to sit around the campfire and talk about the experiences of a nearly perfect day. And what lies ahead on the river. An unpleasant sound greets the new day.

Rain. I think maybe I might need some gloves in the boat today. This rain is a little bit cold. But with warm clothes and rain gear, it's time to get back on the river. Dan shows the way through the day's first big rapid, while the inexperienced rowers watch from the shore. They made it look awful easy. Okay, here we go! [laughter] [excited yelling] Here we are going backwards.[laughter] Good recovery. Now we get to do some bailing. Because of a dangerous wave at Black Bar, Dan has everyone scout the rapid from shore. Best way, stay right, and just face the wall and float away. [water rushing] I think you're talking to my husband. [laughter] [more chatter] In spite of his wife's doubts, Denny is now confident he can handle the raft, and he proves it, getting good reviews from his partner. Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke! [laughter] Whooooo! Good job, buddy! We did a good job.

Good job. I wanna go back and do that one again. After the day of rain, the camp fire becomes a makeshift clothes dryer and that hot cup of coffee sounds mighty good. Next morning, while Dan talks about the day ahead on the river, other guides pump more air into the rafts. Denny looks to the skies, hoping the sun will win its battle with the clouds today. It's today, Suzanne. [singing] Rolling down the river! The weather battle looks to be a draw, with rain and sun at the same time. But rain or shine, the canyon is beautiful, with mossy rocks, steep canyon walls, and creeks tumbling over rocks to add their water to the Rogue's own. With no serious rapids ahead, Dan convinces a reluctant Joanne to try her

hand behind the oars. All right, just make sure my husband doesn't holler at me. Ok now, to make it easy for yourself, spin around with your right oar. Just the right oar by itself. [thunder or loud water] That's- that's south. Let's head south. Oh hush up. As you get in the current, you're going to pull to the right, Okay?. Pull a little bit. Pull back some. I'm gonna hit that rock. No, you're ok, just pull on your left oar, okay. Just stop for a second, one little push, give yourself a - oops! Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop! I told you I was gonna hit that rock. Well, you were pulling. Okay, now pull on your left oar. Pull on your left oar quick. Now both, right into the bank there. There you go. You win your Winkel Bar. Nicely done. This is Zane Grey's, we're gonna stop here. Take a quick break. The cabin where Zane Grey wrote his tales of the West in the '20s and '30s is just one of a number that give visitors a glimpse at the early history of the Rogue.

There's an old riverboat - the kind they used to bring down the river. It's hard to imagine early river runners negotiating the rapids in a boat like this. Skies are clearing as we float the last quiet section before camp. Time to admire the scenery and the wildlife, like this family of Mergansers are swimming along with us. In camp, the tents are set up and still-wet clothes laid out to dry. Denny tries his hand with the fishing rod. Others take the short walk to the Mule Creek Museum, which houses artifacts in the days of mining on the Rogue. A cleverly made shower is another main camp attraction. [water running] Oh, that feels wonderful. Suzanne, what's for dinner? Mongolian beef, stir fry with flank steak. And the campers aren't the only ones interested in supper. Some uninvited but welcomed guests walk into camp. Wildlife experts say the deer are better off if people don't feed them, so they don't get

to share our dinner. Instead, they settle for grass and shrubs, their natural food. The peaceful day ends with talk of Mule Creek Canyon and Blossom Bar waiting just downstream. Next morning, the sun hits the hillside with promise of a perfect day ahead. The float begins on a short, quiet stretch before coming to perhaps the most famous section of the Rogue: Mule Creek Canyon. Here, the river plunges steeply and gets progressively narrower. It's a thrilling ride and a magnificent sight. Mule Creek Canyon is formed as a river flows between the sheer walls of an ancient fault line. Oh, this is just magnificent. So pretty, it doesn't look real, does it? Like you're floating down in Disneyland. Take it nice and slow and easy, suck it all in.

I just hope my little camera is gonna do justice to some of this scenery around here. At the end of Mule Creek Canyon lies the most hazardous rapid on the Rogue: Blossom Bar. Dan stops to point out the proper route through. The usual route here. is on the left. As if to demonstrate the dangers as Dan describes them, a separate party of inexperienced paddlers in inflatable kayaks floats by. Okay. See the eddy? The, uh, V in there? Then there's an eddy just to the right of it. That's the eddy that is crucial to hit. Okay?. Just before that rock garden. That rock garden is called Picket Fence. The first paddler goes right into the rock garden and pays the price. He didn't make that eddy. To avoid that danger, Dan decides that the guides will row all the rafts through the start of the rapid.

We don't want to expose you here to the long swim, okay? If you screw up and don't hit that eddy, okay, you're in to the Picket Fence and you're swimming through Volkswagen Rock, Alligator Rock, all kinds of good rocks down there, okay? Another inflatable tries the Picket Fence with the same result. Now you understand why we take this first cut for you here. Yeah! [laughter] Denny and Joanne volunteer to go first but with Dan on the oars. There you go. Oh ho ho, I like that. The love boat down the road. [laughter] We'll use a downstream ferrying a little bit here. So that's why we're gonna go jetting into the eddie and its gonna spin us around. [water rushing] Woo Hoo! Yeah! There you go! Good look at the Picket Fence there. ?Sella's? guys run over. Nice little spot, eh? [Multiple people respond] Yeah. Yeah. Great. Okay, see now this eddy gets you all the time. Okay, ready? And away we go. [water rushing] Woah! Good job! Hah! Didnt even get wet, huh?

With experienced guides doing the rowing, the other rafts also get through Blossom Bar without mishap. Then Denny and the other guests take over the oars again to row the rest of the way. Keep rowing like that, eh? There you go, keep - there you go, nice one. Relaxing with a cup of coffee. Denny and Joanne say their adventure was everything they expected. Absolutely. In fact, probably more. It was so beautiful. We were talking today when were coming through the canyon, how absolutely gorgeous it was. I had to suck it all in, just to say, boy, I hope I can retain this for the next six months when I go back to work. [laughs] But for me, it was great. I came on the whitewater trip for the excitement and the exhilaration of the rapids. So I probably enjoyed that. Plus, the beautiful river and just all of the scenery.

Denny liked rowing his own raft and recommends that others give it a try. You want to get out here and really feel the thrill of it, you should be behind the oars. One thing, though, that I, that I really didn't anticipate that's been a real pleasant surprise is all of the variety of flowers that I have seen. Just gorgeous. And then last night in camp, the deer coming in, that was really nice. The end of a great river trip. And are they ready to go on another one? I would, yes. Yes, I would. In fact, how about next week? [laughter] [water sounds fading out] The journey sure looks inviting. But it's not for everybody. You need to be in pretty good shape, ready to sleep on the ground, and make the best of whatever weather comes your way. But as you just saw, the rewards are great. We can probably all use a break after the strenuous raft trip.

So how about sitting back as we head into the forest for a look at how logging practices are changing to the benefit of our feathered friends? An early morning hike through Mount Hood National Forest provides a tapestry of sights and sounds, but there are times you have to be quick. He's going down to the nest or something. Oh, look at him drop down. Fantastic. Holy cow. Bruce McCalla [?] loves his job. He's under contract with the Department of Fish and Wildlife to study forest management and the improvement of bird habitat. He's been working this area for three years and has noted a vast improvement in the bird population, thanks in part to more recent logging practices. Ten to 20 years ago, when clear cuts were created out here in the forest pretty much everything was cut down. There were no what they call whips left, small trees, no snags or dead trees. Everything was cut down pretty much to the level of the stumps. But that's changed in recent years on public land.

Even in the so-called clearcut areas. There's an effort made to leave some live trees and standing dead trees or snags because it's been recognized that those are important for certain kinds of wildlife habitat. The birds look for snags that are decaying on the inside, but still hard enough on the outer layer to provide protection from predators, like raccoons or squirrels. So then woodpeckers will find that particular tree and excavate a cavity in it and nest in it. The northern flicker is one of the more common of these flying tree surgeons. We were fortunate enough to spot these woodpeckers at feeding time. A large part of their diet is ants and berries. Once the young birds are old enough, the parents take them to another part of the forest. They don't want the young birds, or probably don't want the young birds to begin to feel like this is home. They want them to find their own homes just like the rest of us in that sense. The northern flickers and the smaller, hairy woodpeckers created most of the cavities in this area.

Then the woodpeckers abandon the nest because, generally speaking, the woodpeckers use a different snag every year and they excavate a different cavity every year. So consequently, the cavities that woodpeckers have excavated in past years are available for other kinds of animals to use -- birds like western bluebirds, which cannot excavate cavities. In other words, the bluebirds can't make a cavity in a tree. They depend on the woodpeckers with cavities. This new habitat is helping to bring the blue birds back. Actually in western Oregon, it's fair to say that they're locally extinct in many parts of the Willamette Valley. So what we're seeing up here in the forest is essentially a kind of refuge for the bluebirds. [birdsong] Ooh, she's building a nest. Can- can you see the nest material? Oh, that's fantastic. When the Bluebirds move in, they make a grass nest and so you can see the female carrying this material into the cavity and making her nest. The males basically just stand around and watch. They don't get involved in the nest building.

But you can sort out these cavity-nesting birds on the basis of their nest material. The house wrens use, uh, sticks in contrast to the grass that the bluebirds use. The house wrens are kind of interesting because they maintain additional nests other than the one that they're actively using. So this is probably a nest that the male is protecting, even though they aren't actually using it. Bruce believes it's imperative to the balance of nature to continue providing habitat for the cavity-nesting birds. If the system is healthy, all of the animals sort of contribute to keep it in a kind of a balanced state. When you start eliminating certain species, then the balance tends to shift towards another species. And if that happens to be a harmful species, then you can get yourself in trouble. The combination of cavity-nesting birds and predacious ants contributes a lot to controlling the numbers of certain harmful insects that get on conifer trees.

I think it was Aldo Leopold that said that the wise tinker always saves all the parts. And that's basically what I think we want to do out here, is make sure as we enter into this forest and pick products from it that we save all the parts. And finally tonight, a story of particular interest to those of you who enjoy hiking. We're going to show you a new program that takes advantage of some prime real estate close to town. Long before highways, railroads were the stitchery that bound Oregon together. [train horn sounds] But now many of those rail lines lie unused, victims of time and change,

Their solitude marked by decaying ties and rusting spikes watched over by an occasional wildflower. And if you look close, you'll see tie plates dating back more than half a century. Now, there's a new movement afoot to convert these abandoned rail lines into linear parks. Pete Bond is a linear park trail coordinator for the Oregon State Parks Department. There are plenty of trails in Oregon, but unfortunately, there aren't a great number of trail opportunities in or near metropolitan areas. But these old, abandoned, or soon-to-be abandoned railroad rights away represent the best opportunity for new recreation trails in Oregon. These new trails are built with hikers like Niles Weis in mind. I discovered the tracks down in Oaks Bottom and the tracks down there. And it was fabulous because there I was in the city and it was, it was like here being out in the country. I thought they should be used as a park. And then two weeks

later, I read that they were considering turning the tracks into a linear park. And I like the idea because it's perfect for hiking and you can get away from it all, right there in the city. The first step in a rail-to-trail conversion is to remove the rails. This is a section of the 40-mile loop trail being constructed around Portland. And we're taking up approximately 18 miles of track from Boring into 17th Street in Southeast Portland, which used to be known as the Springwater Line. Dick Samuels designed this Rube Goldberg machine that lifts the rails and tie plates off the wooden ties. In the process, the spikes are pulled out, making removal of the rails from the ties easier. A high rail crane with retractable wheels maneuvers a powerful magnet over the rail bed, breaking the track free. Then a locomotive moves down the ever-shortening track for the last time. At the end of the line, a cable is attached to the loosened track. The train reverses and pulls the track to a staging area

where it's either sold for reuse or melted as scrap. In order to see a linear park nearer completion, we went to Vernonia, which is about 25 miles west of Portland. This linear park runs 16 miles between Vernonia and Banks. It's the newest and first addition to Oregon's State Park system in 20 years. The park is fairly wide. The grade is even, or gently sloping so it can be easily used by people in wheelchairs, bicyclers, hikers, and horseback riders. Trestle's are another unique feature of this park. These date back to the early days when steam engines hauled giant logs over steep canyons from the mountains to the mills. In this park, there are two high trestles, 640 feet long and 84 feet high. There are also nine low trestles that have been planked over for easier access. The high trestles offer unexpected vistas of homesteads, valleys, and forests. If you're a little nervous about heights, trails also run beneath the high trestles. Since these linear parks go by people's property that up to now was fairly secluded,

some landowners are upset, fearing vandalism. We hear a lot from adjacent land owners who claim that a trail in their backyard is gonna cause vandalism and trespassed and fire and a lot of things like that. But after the trails are in and people start using 'em, the adjacent land- landowners often change their minds. Any time you bring people into a community, there's an added benefit. That's according to Noni Anderson, publisher of Vernonia's monthly paper. People are looking forward to the park opening. There's a developing pride in the town. It used to be just so down that nobody cared whether the streets were clean or what happened. And now that there's a lot of excitement, two new businesses started at Folsom, and one is a tech shop and one is a bicycle shop. The rail-to-trail concept is new to Oregon, but it appears to be a very successful idea. There are already a number of linear parks in California and Washington.

Linear parks provide city dwellers with a quiet escape only minutes from the noises of the city. And it is nice to know that these abandoned railroads are once again serving Oregon. Although in a way little envisioned by Oregon's early pioneers. And we should note that in the unlikely event trains do make a comeback, under the terms of the agreement, the trails can once again be used for their original purpose. But until then, they're ours to enjoy. If you'd like to find out more about the Linear Parks or any of the other reports, please drop us a line at Oregon Field Guide, Care of OPB, 7140 SW MacAdam, Portland, Oregon. 97219. And that's it for this edition of Oregon Field Guide. Thanks for joining us. We'll see you next week.