Kentucky's Extinct Wild Parrot

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When the area now known as Kentucky was covered in virgin forests and "fine cane land", it was home to large flocks of brilliantly colored parrots! Native peoples had many names for the birds but they came to be known as "Carolina Parakeet" as the first specimen for Western study was taken from Carolina. The name is a misnomer as the birds had an expansive range that covered much of the South and Midwestern United States. In fields, they were easily spotted by their orange and yellow heads, but the jewel-toned green and blue feathers on their bodies made them virtually invisible among the leaves of the trees.



Carolina Parkeets were already in decline when John James Audubon first wrote of them in 1830, stating: "Our Parakeets are very rapidly diminishing in number; and in some districts, where twenty-five years ago they were plentiful, scarcely any are now to be seen. At that period, they could be procured as far up the tributary waters of the Ohio as the Great Kenhawa, the Scioto, the heads of Miami, the mouth of the Manimee at its junction with Lake Erie, on the Illinois river, and sometimes as far north-east as Lake Ontario, and along the eastern districts as far as the boundary line between Virginia and Maryland. At the present day, very few are to be found higher than Cincinnati, nor is it until you reach the mouth of the Ohio that Parakeets are met with in considerable numbers. I should think that along the Mississippi there is not now half the number that existed fifteen years ago."



There was little difference in coloring between males and females Carolina Parakeets, but northern varieties are believed to have more blue feathers. Juveniles were entirely green and required two years to reach maturity. The birds flocked in enormous groups of 200 to 300 and could be found in forests, swamps and the shores along rivers and creeks. They would call loudly when flying together, but were perfectly quiet when roosting. Their calls could reportedly be heard for over a mile. A cry from an injured bird would summon the entire flock to its aid. Unfortunately, this altruistic trait enabled farmers to easily exterminate entire flocks in brutal fashion as they would not take flight once one was injured no matter how many others were killed. Farmers took out the birds in great numbers in revenge for destroyed crops and fruit trees.

They were the only native fauna known to enjoy the fruit of the cockburs, a bur-covered plant that was hated by farmers for taking over soil rich fields and injuring livestock. The plant could only be removed by digging up its roots. Carolina parakeets would destroy the plants by alighting on them as a group and eating or destroying every single fruit from the plant. In this way, they were helpful to the farmer. Trouble was they treated fruit trees in a similar manner, and thus became vilified as a pest.



Still, others loved them. The Carolina Parakeets were admired for their colorful plumage and were popular decorations for hats up until the point of extinction. Some were captured as pets, although they showed no promise in learning words and their songs were described as "unpleasant". No attempts were made to bred them because they were so easily captured in the wild. By the 1890s, the Carolina Parakeets could only be found in the swamps of Florida. Ornithologists and collectors combed the region for the last remnants of the birds in the early 20th Century, killing hundreds to stuff for posterity, considering the extinction of the species inevitable while doing absolutely nothing about it.



"Incas", the last Carolina Parakeet in captivity, died at the Cincinnati Zoo in February 1918. Incas spent his final days in an aviary that once housed "Martha", the last passenger pigeon who died in 1914. After Incas's passing, the birds were rarely seen in the wild. Unverified sightings continued, but North America's native parrot was officially declared extinct in 1938. Reasons for the extinction are believed to be largely human caused including destruction of habitat, massive culling by farmers, harvesting for millinery plumage, and demand for pets.

Whether that was the end of the line for the Carolina Parakeet remains to be seen. In recent years, scientists have decoded the bird's DNA. By combining the genome of the Carolina parakeet with a similar South American parakeet’s embryo, it's possible the Carolina parakeet could be revived. Some wildlife biologist are making the pitch that a small flock of the birds could be reintroduced in Florida at Lake Okeechobee.

Natural Arch Scenic Area

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The conspicuously named Natural Arch is not the most famous in the state. That distinction would likely go to Natural Bridge (which isn't actually a bridge since it doesn't cross over water). Semantics aside, the impressive sandstone arch is ~100 feet (30.5m) and stands out distinctly from the forest around it. It often reminds me of a great eye of the forest.



The arch is easily reached from a scenic area with ample parking and some limited facilities. Unlike most areas within Daniel Boone National Forest, use of the scenic area requires a $3 fee but offers an easy walk to an overlook of Natural Arch. Another trailhead within the scenic area leads to Buffalo Canyon; a 5 mile loop trail that travels down to the valley along the cliffs and to the base of the arch. A shorter variation is available.





Eastern Red Columbine were blooming along the trail on this late-April visit. Most of the trees had regained their leaves, with only a few flowers left on the red buds and dogwoods.







Information and hiking maps for Natural Arch are available at the Ranger Station in Sterns or from the US Forest Service. Remember to pack water & $3.

You can download a map of the hiking trails from the USDA Forest Service.

Searching for Lost Arches Along Rockbridge Fork Creek

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Winter in Kentucky is always full of surprises. Temps topped the mid-50s, with threats of rain as we headed into Daniel Boone National Forest for a day of hunting off-trail arches. We did a roll call to make sure everyone had rain ponchos, then dove into the tree cover. Dale had optimistic plans to find five natural arches. Some were considered forest "folklore"; their locations only handwritten estimates from decades old maps of the area.



We began in search of Log Arch, named for its similarity in appearance to a fallen tree in the woods. To locate it, we navigated through rhododendron fields and brier tangles that would be impenetrable any other time of year. Like most of the natural arches in Red River Gorge, Log Arch is only visible when you're standing next to it. We dropped in on it from above but no one felt confident enough to walk on across the top of the narrow ribbon of arch.



Only a short walk away was Little Log Arch, a miniature version of its cousin. Specifications for what can be considered a natural arch are quite detailed. Anything with an opening or length that is less than three feet wide is considered a window, generally. Little Log Arch still qualifies, but it was close. Rock nerds have devised an entire cataloging process that involves careful measuring of the rock opening before it can be classified as an arch. Check out the Natural Bridge & Arch Society for more details.



The valley floor was surprisingly cool, with a significant drop in temperature from the higher elevations where we had started our hike. Ice still bounded both sides of the creek and along the cliffs where water drainage creates occasional waterfalls. We had shed a few layers of clothing while making our way to the creek, but after relaxing and taking a lunch, we had to bundled up again.



From there, we combed the cliffs for a poorly documented arch. We were told its location was a matter of "forest folklore". In order to locate it, the three of us spread out across the cliff side, walking at different levels to conduct a thorough search of the area. Eventually, we came upon a large rock cave that was home to Packrat Arch. The rock cave was incredibly roomy, but we climbed through the arch to find ourselves on the edge of the cliff! Dale hung off the side to get a shot of me with Packrat Arch for scale.





And here's a shot of Dale from my perspective in the arch. 😸

Next we traveled to Fire Hearth Arch, now officially one of my favorite arches at Red River Gorge. The rock cave had a well constructed stacked stone fireplace which had not been used in a long time. It was free from ash. Emily's Arch was a short distance away in the same rock formation. The cave offered views of a deep valley filled with rhododendron and a parallel cliff with several cave openings just visible through the leafless winter trees. We vowed to return to explore the other side of the cliff at some point in the future.





The trip back to the road from the last arch felt like a death march, but was worth the effort. We hiked in silence, using the last of our energy to power back up the mountain without a trail. All in all, we logged about 9 miles but it was all tough going through wilderness. As soon as we reached the car and pulled out of the forest, the rain started to fall. We had really pressed our luck but had a very successful day. Looking forward to returning again soon!

Mill Creek Lake Overlook

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Temps in Kentucky had been below freezing for weeks but finally topped 50°F/10°C. Snow still covered much of the terrain, but the eastern side of the mountains in Red River Gorge had thawed. Tunnel Ridge Road is currently closed for repairs until March 2018, so cars were parked along Hwy 11. We passed them by (suckers!) and headed off-trail on the hunt for scenic views and hidden arches.



As we pulled into the trailhead, I spotted a large wolf-like dog running toward the car. Turned out she was a very friendly, local Siberian Husky. She headed into the woods ahead of us and seemed to know exactly where we wanted to go. It wasn't our intention to hike with her, but she didn't ask permission. Several times we stopped to check the GPS location while she plowed ahead, always waiting for us in the direction we wanted to go. I nicknamed her "Doggie Boone" for her expert knowledge of the backcountry. We learned later that her name is Zowie.



View of Mill Creek Lake. From the vista above, the entire lake looked frozen. Toward the middle, we noticed a meandering path of animal footprints from the shore to the middle of the lake. I have driven past this lake many times on my way to Townsend Mountain, but never seen it from this perspective. There is a dam located near the road beyond Natural Bridge Lodge that creates a little waterfall.



From Mill Creek Lake overlook, we headed back into the woods in search of a nearby arch. Doggie Boone (aka Zowie) took off without us, inherently knowing our next stop. She blazed her way along the edge of the ridge and through loose leaves with a terrifying pace, but never lost her footing.



After verifying we were headed in the right direction via GPS, we followed her through thick rhododendron to Poundstone Arch. Good dog! Dale illustrates the limited height of the arch, which was bounded on both sides by tree covered cliffs. Beyond the arch, one direction led to another ridge view of Natural Bridge State Park; the other headed down the mountain along a cliff with numerous rock caves.



Overlook of Natural Bridge Lodge and Lover's Leap, visible from further north along the same ridgeline. The snow-covered area is Hoedown Island (seriously), with Hwy 11 visible to the right.



Proud to say I spotted this shed antler despite it being buried in the snow and leaves. (Photographed elsewhere.) That was my first indication that I was leading us down a deer trail. Thankfully it all worked out the same as we didn't expect to find any trails on the ridge, and were using GPS for guidance back to the trailhead.



It was so much fun hiking with a knowledgeable, furry guide. Glad she is being well taken care of instead of wandering around on her own in the Gorge. Her owner rolled up on an ATV as soon as we returned to our parking spot and claimed her.

Icy Cumberland Falls and Eagle Falls

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Cumberland Falls, also known as Little Niagara, is the second largest waterfall east of the Rocky Mountains. After two weeks of below freezing temperatures, the Falls continue to flow but the Lower Cumberland River became filled with ice and packed snow. I have visited Cumberland Falls many times during my life but this was a unique and beautiful sight. A misty freezing fog hung over the water and settled as ice on the boulders along the shore and cliffs giving the Falls a mysterious feeling.



The closest overlooks to the falls were closed behind locked metal gates, a very rare event.



Fog hanging over the Cumberland River above the falls.



After visiting the open observation decks, I hiked to Eagle Falls. The trail mostly follows the western cliff along the Cumberland River. The trail is well marked but narrow, with a steep drop off on one side. A misstep could lead to a tumble down to the Falls so I was very cautious around the icy columns that covered the path.





Looking back on the trail and Cumberland Falls. The weather was beginning to warm and had risen to the upper 40s, but the narrow path was filled with extremely slick sections.



Eagle Falls continued to crash down but the plunge pool was frozen all the way to the Cumberland River. The mist from the falls was settling on the boulders inside the cave and turning into ice, so I couldn't safely move much beyond this point. Usually I climb over the boulders and into the rock cave for a closer view, and then over another set of boulders to see the river.



The Cumberland River below the Cumberland Falls, at the edge of the ice pack.

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