Whac-a-Mole
In the alpine areas of central and southern Alaska starting in July and August, while the rest of the U.S. languishes through the heat and humidity of the “dog days of summer,” collared pika (Ochotona collaris) devote nearly all their attention to stockpiling food for the imminent winter1. Unlike their neighbors, the arctic ground squirrel, which hibernate during winter, pikas remain active and so must insure they have an adequate supply of food to last the six months or more when the ground is frozen and snow covered.
Pikas are herbivores and feed on the stems and leaves of grasses and shrubs found among the talus (boulder fields) of mountainous slopes. Mountain avens, lupines, vetch, dwarf huckleberry, and bearberry are favorite staples.
As they collect their food supply by clipping or pulling up stems and twigs, they cache it in holes, cracks, crevices, under rock ledges, and along the edges of boulders in a process called haymaking. Numerous “haystacks” are strategically placed within its territory and located a safe distance from their den to minimize encounters with predators.
In early September I decided to photograph pika in the process of haymaking at Hatcher Pass, a beautiful alpine area about fifty miles north of Anchorage in the Talkeetna Mountains. I brought along a 600 mm f/4 lens to shoot with, what I affectionately call the “pig” as it is quite a load to lug around especially up steep slopes. The plan was that this lens would help fill the frame with the hamster-size pika since I expected they would be quite wary of me intruding on their home turf. For the most part they were. However, trying to get decent shots, that is, in focus, proved difficult as they scurried between the boulders, popping up unexpectedly from a hole, or showing up on a rock or ledge. Because of the high magnification of the 600 mm lens (12x narrower field of view than a 50 mm or normal lens), swinging the lens around to locate the pika, frame, select a focus point and focus just before depressing the shutter sometimes proved to be an exercise in futility.
It reminded me of the arcade game, Whac-a-Mole, where you do not know from which hole the mole would pop up for bashing with the mallet. Like most things, with practice I became more adept at finding the right technique and anticipating movement and was able to get some good photos.
What I did not anticipate - and only found out after some research - was that pikas will sometimes steal hay piles from their neighbors, a behavior called kleptoparastism. As a result, they become less tolerant of their neighbors and will vigorously defend their caches. While I was not able to observe this in action, it does explain the close, less cautious approaches of pikas to me; they saw me as a potential pillager of their food supplies! So close was their approach that I could no longer focus the 600 mm lens which meant that they were closer than the minimum focusing distance of 18 feet. This was a lesson for me in particular, and for wildlife photography in general; the more you know about the behavior of the animal, the more successful you will be in capturing them in their natural environment. This means the next time I photograph pikas I will have a shorter lens, perhaps a 70-200 mm, in addition to the super telephoto, for those close encounters.
A closely related species, the American Pika (Ochotona princeps), is found in the Rocky Mountains of western North America stretching all the way from New Mexico to British Columbia. Because pika live in higher latitudes and cool mountainous regions, they are sensitive to high temperatures. Individuals exposed to temperatures above 78°F die within several hours if they cannot find shelter from the heat. For example, pika become inactive in warm midday sun and often find relief among the cooler shaded areas around the talus. Recent studies show pika populations in the western U.S. are declining. Like polar bears in the arctic, American Pika have become an indicator species of global climate change. As local and global temperatures increase, pikas must move to higher elevations to find their optimal micro-climate. Since they cannot easily migrate north because their habitat is fragmented “islands” among mountain ranges, eventually pika will run out of living room at the top of the mountain; that is, they can go no higher to find cooler temperatures. Unlike the frenetic pace of Whac-a-Mole, here we are playing a slow game of Whac-a-Pika with the outcome likely extinction. While the winner may get a stuffed animal, extinction is one arcade game that Mother Nature will not let you reset and replay regardless of how much money you put down on the table.
1As I write this in early October, we have already had about one inch of snow at lower elevations in late September, what we call locally “termination dust” signifying the end of fall and the beginning of winter. Snow levels are coming down the mountains and are currently at about 3000 feet.
Pikas are herbivores and feed on the stems and leaves of grasses and shrubs found among the talus (boulder fields) of mountainous slopes. Mountain avens, lupines, vetch, dwarf huckleberry, and bearberry are favorite staples.
In early September I decided to photograph pika in the process of haymaking at Hatcher Pass, a beautiful alpine area about fifty miles north of Anchorage in the Talkeetna Mountains. I brought along a 600 mm f/4 lens to shoot with, what I affectionately call the “pig” as it is quite a load to lug around especially up steep slopes. The plan was that this lens would help fill the frame with the hamster-size pika since I expected they would be quite wary of me intruding on their home turf. For the most part they were. However, trying to get decent shots, that is, in focus, proved difficult as they scurried between the boulders, popping up unexpectedly from a hole, or showing up on a rock or ledge. Because of the high magnification of the 600 mm lens (12x narrower field of view than a 50 mm or normal lens), swinging the lens around to locate the pika, frame, select a focus point and focus just before depressing the shutter sometimes proved to be an exercise in futility.
What I did not anticipate - and only found out after some research - was that pikas will sometimes steal hay piles from their neighbors, a behavior called kleptoparastism. As a result, they become less tolerant of their neighbors and will vigorously defend their caches. While I was not able to observe this in action, it does explain the close, less cautious approaches of pikas to me; they saw me as a potential pillager of their food supplies! So close was their approach that I could no longer focus the 600 mm lens which meant that they were closer than the minimum focusing distance of 18 feet. This was a lesson for me in particular, and for wildlife photography in general; the more you know about the behavior of the animal, the more successful you will be in capturing them in their natural environment. This means the next time I photograph pikas I will have a shorter lens, perhaps a 70-200 mm, in addition to the super telephoto, for those close encounters.
A closely related species, the American Pika (Ochotona princeps), is found in the Rocky Mountains of western North America stretching all the way from New Mexico to British Columbia. Because pika live in higher latitudes and cool mountainous regions, they are sensitive to high temperatures. Individuals exposed to temperatures above 78°F die within several hours if they cannot find shelter from the heat. For example, pika become inactive in warm midday sun and often find relief among the cooler shaded areas around the talus. Recent studies show pika populations in the western U.S. are declining. Like polar bears in the arctic, American Pika have become an indicator species of global climate change. As local and global temperatures increase, pikas must move to higher elevations to find their optimal micro-climate. Since they cannot easily migrate north because their habitat is fragmented “islands” among mountain ranges, eventually pika will run out of living room at the top of the mountain; that is, they can go no higher to find cooler temperatures. Unlike the frenetic pace of Whac-a-Mole, here we are playing a slow game of Whac-a-Pika with the outcome likely extinction. While the winner may get a stuffed animal, extinction is one arcade game that Mother Nature will not let you reset and replay regardless of how much money you put down on the table.
1As I write this in early October, we have already had about one inch of snow at lower elevations in late September, what we call locally “termination dust” signifying the end of fall and the beginning of winter. Snow levels are coming down the mountains and are currently at about 3000 feet.