MOUNTAIN LIFE - Blue Mountains | Summer 2018

120 ML BLUE SUMMER 2018 I turn up two salamanders with glistening striped backs. Out come the cameras. Now it’s a treasure hunt. As we head out, the first sunny day in what seems forever affords an opportunity to talk about the weather. If you can’t do that without thinking then you can’t do much, and Janice and I have no problem lamenting our oddly hot spring followed by a dreary June-uary and the effects this flip- flop has had on everything from bird migrations to planting tomatoes. That breaks the ice, so to speak, and we’re off. The first nature Janice fills the guests in on is human: a sprinkling of local history, hubris and a few tidbits about the 2010 Olympics. They’re all rapt, and I realize I’m going to have to expand my own information repertoire to anthropological concerns if I am to succeed at this enterprise in the future. To wit: it’s great to learn about how red squirrels store nuts in their cheeks, but where’s that bobsled track and how fast can you actually go in one? Speaking of red squirrels and their nuts, as we cross into a wetland to begin the actual walk, a discussion erupts over whether that relationship is responsible for the expression “cheeky.” As this Wallace and Gromit- like question consumes our attention, we head into the forest where there’s no end of things to talk about. We start with the abundant bear sign—munched dandelions, poop, and claw marks on trees. Janice expertly delivers the key points and answers questions about how many bears live in the valley, how they use trails, and where they hibernate, then throws it over to me to deliver arcane information about how skunk cabbage lures bears from dens in the spring and helps them clean the winter cobwebs from their intestines. Suddenly we’re a team, and I relax. We discuss invasive plants, then devil’s club and why it has that name (its springy, spine-encrusted branches have a habit of hitting you in the face), and how First Nations use its inner bark as a salve. When Janice dishes on logging, it opens up the topic of tree diversity and ages, the forest’s cycle of life, and the role of abundant “nurse stumps” we encounter. The Brits are mesmerized by the simple fact of trees growing on trees, but I have an even better party trick. Since it has been raining and the ground is saturated, I figure I can find some amphibians. Fortuitously, I turn up two salamanders with glistening striped backs. Out come the cameras. Now it’s a treasure hunt. But it’s also still a hike, and Janice sets a good pace up and over the forested hills surrounding a small lake. Here, I recognize coral mushrooms, bracket fungi, symbiotic lichens and a moss called “fairy vomit” that I point out to folks at the back of the group, as Janice holds court with other small wonders up front. Soon we’ve circled the lake with talk of birds, fish and toads. As we head back, satisfied chatter ripples through the group. They’ve had a good day and so have we guides. I needn’t have worried about failing at this job. After all, nature, as always, makes it easy to impress. On a nature walk, looking up and looking down in equal measure is the name of the game.