Silicon Valley Redneck

Another reason to beware of wild rodents

This morning, near the beginning of walkies, I spotted a fuzzy tan object in a parking turnout.

Stepping over the low fence, I got close enough to confirm that it was, indeed, a dead (and uneaten) woodrat.  One of the docents stopped at the same time, and spoke of tossing it in the freezer, on general principles.

Stepping back over the fence to the trail, I clonked my little toe on the top rail.  Five-Fingerses provide little protection against toe-clonkage.  Now I've got a purple toe.

Well, at least it doesn't seem to be broken this time.  Didn't get notably worse as I continued for another 3½ miles or thereabouts, and it's not terribly sensitive.  Just kinda sore, and very purple indeed.

I keep thinking I should install a set of steel toe caps on the old pair of foot gloves.  One cap per toe, of course.  Maybe with claws, like those things Die Fledermaus wears.  (Yeah, probably a bad idea: with the extra leverage, that fence likely would have broken my toe.)

The things you see when you haven't got a proper camera

Out walkies at Rancho San Antonio yesterday morning, I noticed a fuzzball ahead, alongside the road before the farm.  As I'd left my camera back in the car, all I got were some mobe snaps.

I'm not much of an authority on matters murine, but that right there is either a dwarf long-tailed chinchilla or a dusky-footed woodrat, no?

It was scrabbling in the dirt with its forepaws, and apparently finding tiny things to nibble on - seeds, perhaps, or the remnants of a trodden-on Frito.

Looky them whiskers!

At one point, the critter wandered over and sniffed at my toes, whereupon I cautioned it against running up my leg.  Wood rat, roof rat, or regular old plague rat, loitering by daylight in an area where people are traipsing through just ain't normal behavior for a rodent that isn't someone's pet, and I didn't feel like taking chances with whatever might be afflicting it.

Update: scale is not clear from the photos; it might be mistaken for some sort of blunt-nosed mouse.  It was definitely rat-sized, and a fair-sized rat at that, though it was a great exaggeration for a passing blonde to say it was as big as a dog.  (Her perceptions were perhaps affected by the lack of a table to stand on and scream.  Or, maybe, she has one of those teeny-tiny purse dogs for reference.)

A note on footwear

I've been mostly wearing Vibram^® Five^TM Fingers^es for a couple of years now, and find the KSO Trek variety quite suitable for moderate hiking.

They are not, however, appropriate for reenacting the Swedish role in the Battle of Copenhagen.

You get lots of vegetation wedged between the toes.

Return of the mountain lion?

On morning walkies Monday, wildlife activity seemed normal: various deer grazing near the trail and watching the passersby, and a flock or two of turkeys.

Tuesday, no deer and no turkeys.  Well, it was a frosty morning, and I'd broken out the winter wardrobe (Long sleeves!  Long pants!  Socks!), including something to keep my ears warm, viz, a deerstalker cap, and maybe the deer didn't appreciate being stalked.

Wednesday, warmer; I was back to my usual attire, but still no sign of deer nor turkeys.  Did they all fly south for the winter?

Thursday, rain.  Also, I got a slow start on the morning, and had Stuff To Do.  No walkies, so wildlife not observed.

Friday, normal attire, normal route, normal-ish time; several turkeys right by the parking lot, and none further in.  Two deer in one of the usual spots, acting skittish and hastening from view.

So... I guess something's got the wildlife spooked, and I don't really think it's me.  Maybe next week I'll carry the big camera, in case of big kitties.  Also maybe the pocket cutlery, in case of uppity big kitties.

 

Wacky wet weather

The storm having passed, and the morning starting out dry-ish if a bit overcast, I headed off to morning walkies this morning, a bit behind my usual schedule.

On the way, my windshield started getting sprinkly.  Cancel and return via OSH for some needed odds & ends?  Naw, it's only a bit of a drizzle, and I've got a rainproof parka in the trunk.

Park, parka, head out along the trail.  Note that the parking lot is nearly empty.  Note also a stationary siren in the distance, sort of southeastish.  The calamity alarm at the quarry, still going from yesterday?  Can a crime scene not be interfered with even to the extent of turning off the alarm?

Not many people along the trails, somehow.  The drizzle intensifies, becoming proper rain by the time I reach the farm.  I decide to head back.

In a classic example of spontaneous generation, the rain-soaked trails have sprouted turkeys.  (I thought it was worms that sprouted after rain, but maybe that's only on concrete sidewalks.)

Back to my car, safe and soaked, just as the rain tapers off.

Swing by OSH on the way home, around 9:20 (traffic on 85 northbound was horrible).  Store nearly empty of both customers and employees.  Nobody rushing to buy emergency roof-repair materials?  (I guess those come from Home Despot.)

Home in the lack of rain, a couple of hours of work, lunch, then off to JCM.

Midafternoon in the lab, hear loud rain.  Wait, wasn't the storm supposed to have been yesterday?  Anyway, keep busy with indoors work until the rain goes away.

Finally, home again in the dry, stopping at Ace and Signetics Lowe's in search of tools I didn't realize I needed this morning.  No joy; apparently there's not much call for hole saws in 15/16" and 1-9/16" sizes.  Guess I could use 7/8 and 1-1/2 and a little brute force, but MSC has the exact proper sizes, so perhaps I'll make the rounds of the industrial suppliers in Santa Clara tomorrow and see if I can get them locally.  (Hm.  Grainger has such things in the correct sizes; have to see about local stock.)

 

And it is not right that The Beast should master Man

Apparently Og started the pocketknife meme.

Well, in keeping with the stated rules, here's the totally inoffensive little package-opener and whisker-trimmer that's lived in my change pocket the past many years:

But... what with the Bad Ol' Putty Tat hanging around my crepuscular stomping grounds, I'm thinking that perhaps "inoffensive" isn't totally the right priority.  While I'm not feeling worried enough to start carrying, e.g., a pigsticker stuck on the end of a Garand (which would be cumbersome, not to mention sure to attract unwanted attention from the area's badged denizens), I might just resume toting the pocketknife I carried most of the way through college and for many years thereafter:

There: that's big enough and sturdy enough to have some utility as a weapon, while still fitting in a pocket, and I can extricate it from the pocket, conjure it open, and get it in ready-for-use position pretty quick.  Much better than fumbling around the change pocket for the little guy, opening the first blade that comes to hand, and discovering that it's a thing for taking stones out of a horse's hoof.

The big lockback, oddly enough, came from an electronics-surplus store, the name of which escapes me.  It fits nicely alongside the leading edge of my wallet, in a consistent location and orientation.  Many years ago, it was displaced from that spot by a pocket watch, but, since the watch has now been set aside in favor of just looking at my phone, there's once again a place to carry my old favorite salami-slicer.

(I just haven't Been Prepared lately, have I?  This was Falling Satellites Day, and I didn't even carry an umbrella.)

 

Do deer make goat noises when they're being munched on?

Bit of a followup on Monday's morning-walkies story....

This morning, the mountain-lion warning had reappeared, in more specific form: the trails leading up to the pond area, including the spot where all the commotion was on Monday, were positively closed due to recent mountain-lion sightings.

Someone near the entrance said the critter had been seen yesterday.

Cathy and Megan, who had been there on Monday while I was pondering the ruckus, reported that they'd passed that spot again a bit later, and the noise was still going on.  A passing foreigner* informed them that he knew that sound, and it was certainly a deer giving birth.  Later in the day (if I'm recalling the tale correctly) a friend of theirs was passing through the same area, and saw a mountain lion.

So: it seems there were two critters making the noises.  Apparently a mountain lion does meow like a chainsaw, and the goat noises might perhaps have been the big black goat that my tall passerby claimed to have seen... or they might have been a deer's distress call**.  (Funny that the deer standing around about 20 paces up the trail seemed oblivious to it, though.)

And it's just as well I wasn't dressed for wading into thickets.  A mail shirt and hood might have been in order.

I'm thinking it must have been a rather inept mountain lion, for the deer to have been making a commotion for such a long time.

I surmise that the specific trail closure is motivated by the prospect of a cat lurking there defending its kill.

Or, perhaps, it really was Shub-Niggurath I heard on Monday, and the whole mountain-lion story is a cover-up.  To avoid panic, you understand.

 

* Presumably a sub-equatorial foreigner.  Round these parts, deer don't give birth in September.

** I suppose I could settle this empirically, by grabbing one of the local deer and munching on it.

 

Overheard in the woods

(To borrow a format from Tam.)

I was out for standard walkies this morning when an Unidentified Object off to the side of the trail started making strange noises.

UO: (small chainsaw noises)

Me: ?

UO: MrrrOWWWR(chainsaw noises)

Bushes: vibrate, rustle, crash crash

Me: Um... do mountain lions meow like chainsaws?

Bushes: rustle hither, rustle thither

UO: crash, blunder, stumble, pant pant

Me: Er... who goes there?

UO: MEEEEEHHHHH!

Me: Or should that be, "who goats there?"

Short passerby: Just in case, I'm hiding behind you.

Tall passerby: I see it!  It's a big black goat.

UO: Meeeehhhhh!  Crash, blunder, MEEEEHHHH, crash, pant pant

Me: I'm not going into that thicket in shorts and foot gloves to rescue a stupid lost goat.  Find yer own way out.

This being Monday, the farm was closed, so there wasn't a convenient opportunity to inform someone official that there was a loose goat up the trail.  I don't think it was one of theirs in any case; probably got loose from somebody's back yard.

Before the sounds assumed that strongly goatlike quality (and the passersby arrived on the scene), this felt like a "weapon at the ready, but don't panic" situation... except that what I had for a weapon was my pocket camera, which is conveniently bright orange to facilitate being noticed by investigators.  ("Yup, that was a goat what done him in, all right.")

Anyway, I'm glad it didn't turn out to be a wild boar.  Though goats can be dangerous enough.

Afterthought: I hope it was merely a black goat of the woods, and not The Black Goat of the Woods.  Iä, sure, you betcha.

Thursday update: I missed morning walkies the last couple of days, on account of delayed fatigue from the weekend and taking in the car for overdue maintenance yesterday morning.  Back to the usual place today... and those big red mountain-lion warning signs have disappeared.  Maybe the mountain lion was eaten by the goat?

 

I didn't taw a putty tat.

There's some great foofaraw over a mountain lion sighting in Los Altos Hills - somewhere around Rhus Ridge, Hidden Villa, Foothill College, that sort of area.

Out for walkies at Rancho San Antonio this morning, I encountered conspicuous new warning signs and the occasional worried runner.

(Hint: if you're worried about predators, don't run. Even a Chihuahua will chase a runner.)

I'm not especially concerned, being as how I'm much bigger than a mountain lion, amble around on my hind legs, and generally look and act like a well-fed apex predator.  Besides, I've got my sure-fire mountain-lion repellent: I started carrying a camera after seeing a mountain lion at Rancho about 20 years back, and haven't spotted one since.

On my way back, I encountered two, count 'em, two big paramedic trucks parked in the schoolbus area.  Preparing to deal with a flood of mauling victims?

Further: as best I can tell from news accounts, two people saw the cat over the weekend, out in the woods where mountain lions belong.  Nothing about it being aggressive, or wandering into populated areas.  So why all the fuss?  Mountain lions have been in these hills since forever, occasionally crossing paths with people, and it's never been a secret nor cause for alarm.  Is there something about the latest sighting They're not telling Us, or is it just silly overreaction?

Update: photographic proof!

Friday morning, I encountered a furry, tan, long-tailed mammal, which in all other respects was entirely unlike a mountain lion.  Here's the rather blurry proof that I met with a not-a-mountain-lion!

Now, at this point, you may be thinking "Who gives a rat's patootie?"  Well, just moments later, I discovered that a previous user of the trail had in fact given a rat's patootie:

Happy new year!

As is the custom, I led the Hangover Hike this morning, commencing at 0745 (that was the nominal meeting time; after waiting for stragglers, carpooling up to Skyline Ridge, and waiting for everybody to decide how many layers to wear, we actually hit the trail about 0845).

I had a dozen takers this year.  The weather in the flatlands was clear and cold (34°F; cold for this area).  Given the wind we'd had yesterday, I was expecting fiercely cold and windy conditions up on the ridge.

In fact, by the time we got there, the temperature was up to 55, with practically no wind.  After a bit of hiking, I was regretting my long pants and long-sleeved shirt (and long hair, for that matter).

A bright, clear morning!  (As usual, click images to embiggen.)

Views all the way out to the ocean!

Ocean, Pacific, 1 ea.

New year's resolution: do not meddle in the affairs of witches, lest you end up like this tree.

Coots on Alpine Pond.

That puddle has boats* on it!

Silicon Valley in the new year, slightly obscured by haze.  Stanford is left of center (with the possible exception of the Hoover Institution).

My house isn't quite in this picture, unless you have very good X-ray vision.

The view towards the ocean is so much clearer....

A potato bug, also known as a Jerusalem cricket, or "sunket."

And, as we pass the hobbit-hill, we know we're almost back to the cars.

Camera notes: (1) the pocket camera doesn't fall back automatically, so the EXIF data is an hour fast; (2) the lens needed cleaning.

 

*In SVR-speak, anything on top of the water is a "boat."  This covers anything from ducklings to aircraft carriers.