A wild, long weekend communing with nature

Our weekend started Friday and ended Monday, and what a whirlwind it

was. This nature-packed weekend covered a lot of ground.

Our first goal was to scout the Cuyamaca Rancho State Park to

assess recovery after the Cedar firestorm, which roared through in

October 2003. The park is located five miles north of Interstate 8 on

Highway 79 in San Diego County, but we go up Highway 78 through

Julian to Highway 79.

From an infrastructure point of view, the fire destroyed the park.

Damage was extensive, with some restrooms and the visitor center

burned to the ground.

But from nature’s point of view, fire is simply an opportunity for

renewal and regrowth. Although most of the huge pines are now

statuesque cinders, the oaks seemed better fire-adapted. Green leaves

sprouted from charred oak trunks and wildflowers bloomed profusely.

Both campgrounds are open, and the short hike to the falls in

Green Valley is spectacular. Vic found the birding good, and I had

plenty of opportunities for photography.

Coming back, we stopped in Santa Ysabel. I wanted to get elk,

venison and buffalo jerky for the Orange County Conservation Corps

kids to accompany a Native American learning module I was preparing

for them. I also picked up a deer hoof rattle like the ones the

Tongva and Acjachemem used to mask the sound of their footfalls as

they stalked deer.

Then we drove north past Lake Henshaw to meet Vic’s senior birding

class at Bailey’s Palomar Resort. The class rented Bailey House -- a

spectacular seven-bedroom, antique-filled farmhouse -- for an

overnight stay. Vic fired up the barbecue, while I prepared an array

of appetizers. After a delightful potluck dinner, Vic led the class

on an owling foray into the boonies.

On Saturday morning, the class birded Palomar Mountain State Park,

amassing an impressive list of mountain birds. I enjoyed the

incredible peace of the valley, with western bluebirds and Stellar’s

jays entertaining me on the veranda.

On previous visits, deer have feasted on apples in the old

orchard, and sometimes wild turkeys have ambled by.

On this visit, I perused the incredible array of old farm

implements, horse harnesses and hand tools, looking for artifacts for

the Shipley Interpretive Building to represent the farming era in

Huntington Beach at the turn of the last century.

I spent all day Sunday preparing materials for my Native American

lecture to the Corps kids. The Friends of Shipley Nature Center will

be getting a full-time education crew at Shipley starting in July.

The crew will open the Nature Center to the public Monday through

Thursday, but first they need to be trained to act as docents.

The lucky landscape crew that is there now is getting the “beta

version” of my lectures. I prepare a worksheet on the material, and

by filling it out, the crews get credit toward high school

graduation.

On Monday, Vic got up at 3:30 a.m. to meet a U.S. Forest Service

biologist at 5 a.m. in Riverside. Vic was helping the Forest Service

with a bird survey on the western slope of Mt. San Jacinto, as well

as scouting for new locations to take his bird class.

I took my learning materials to Shipley on Monday, picked the

youngest member of the crew and told him, “Today, we are Tongva, and

you will be initiated into the tribe.”

Until he became a man, he would have run around totally naked. But

after initiation, he would get the clothing of an adult. I handed him

a leather shoestring to tie around his waist. The kids roared with

laughter upon discovering that this constituted the entire summer

wardrobe of adult male Tongva.

The Tongva women wore shell necklaces and an apron made of grass

or deerskin. On ceremonial occasions, the chief would paint his chest

black and wear a long feather skirt with a lovely feather headdress.

I dispensed with an actual reenactment, but merely described the

events of the puberty rites. The poor initiate was dismayed to learn

he would not eat for three days, and then be whipped with stinging

nettles by the men of the village, while the women covered him with

biting ants. But after that, he got to go on his first deer hunt with

the men of the village.

All of the young men on the crew traipsed off in search of deer.

What they found was the jerky I had picked up in Santa Ysabel. They

also searched for clams, oysters and fish (finding canned oysters and

canned smoked trout), and hunted for nests of bird eggs, simulated by

a half-dozen boiled eggs hidden in a “nest” under a bush.

While the men were off hunting, those of us who stayed behind

ground corn using an authentic metate and mano. The local natives

would have ground acorns before the missionaries brought corn up from

Central America. After the hunt, we feasted. I brought an array of

foods that local Native Americans would have used, including grapes,

blackberries, pine nuts, sunflower seeds, jicama, and sliced cactus

pads (nopales).

This reenactment-type of learning worked wonderfully. The Los

Angeles Times had an article on Tuesday touting the benefits of

outdoor education, demonstrating that an outdoor experience teaches

biology better than classroom learning. Let’s have more of it.

* VIC LEIPZIG and LOU MURRAY are Huntington Beach residents and

environmentalists. They can be reached at [email protected].