This week of work was harder and less fun, work-wise. The novelty of hiking up relatively unexplored drainages has worn off. Maybe that's because this one is not unexplored: it's right along a highway, and there's all sorts of debris, like coffee cup lids, beer cans of various vintages, potato chip bags, and car parts, strewn along the width of the wash. The water is filled with green and red algae because of the lack of shade, and biting flies are everywhere. Although the sycamores are crown-sprouting nicely, it will be a good growing season or two before they shade the creek, reducing the algae and flies. And i didn't see any frogs this week. Seeing little Pacific tree frogs hopping into my vision is a refreshing mental break of undirected attention in the midst of peering for 100 species of weeds in various stages of growth amidst a zillion native chaparral species in their stages of growth.
Side note: how can people who enjoy being outdoors treat the outdoors so badly? Why do we find so much garbage outside when we're doing these surveys? Do you like picnicking amidst garbage? Put it in the Dumpster or pack a trash bag with you and take it home.
Thursday, i found myself in a patch (an infestation, really) of weeds near a creek confluence. My skin ached from too much sun (not enough sunscreen on Tuesday), my fingers had blisters that using gloves neither soothed nor prevented, my wrists and arms and legs and back ached, i realized i'd left a major part of my lunch in the fridge back home, i'd walked into one too many baby yuccas while looking at something else, my arm had an allergic rash developing (either to black sage or poodledog bush), a sharp rock had ripped another hole in the knees of my grubby jeans, and i was tired. Four hours of work and i'd pulled a lot of weeds but made hardly any mileage, and that wasn't even tackling the type-converters (invasive grasses and mustards that burn too frequently for chaparral to recover). I sat down and had a brief moment of self-pity, just wanting to call it a day and go home.
Then i thought: my friend Katie the botanist wouldn't quit. And i can make it through the afternoon, go home and wash my face, put lotion on my hands, and recover over the weekend. I need the money. The stream needs help. I want to do a good job. And i hate quitting.
So, yes, i am still enjoying it. The first week of work, i told my supervisor that maybe i'm certifiably nuts, but i love this job. (I was on an endorphin high from all the hiking the day before.) She asked how it was this week, and i told her i was tired, my body hurt, i was looking forward to sleeping this weekend, but yes, i am still happy. I know we're accomplishing something useful. I know that this work is essential for letting the native plants recover, even though this isn't weed eradication. We're reducing the weed seed bank. We're giving the native plants a chance to compete against invasive species that sprout earlier than they do. And come Monday, i'll be ready to get back out there, slather on the sunscreen five times a day, drink 4 litres of water and rehydration tea, get my hiking shoes muddy, and pull out more weeds.
