Monday, July 28 brought a clear, bright pleasant morning. Team Scat Track Fever met at nine in the
Morrill computer cluster and then
ventured forth to the Warren Farm for our last day of data collection. Lizzy drove us once again in her white
Subaru. Conversation
among the team members was light and cheery, except for Matt who kept quiet due to him nursing a
benedryl and
Zyrtec hangover from a severe Sunday evening allergy attack. We arrived at the farm and immediately walked the "fringe" and "woodland" transect lines to see if anything exciting was left over
from the weekend. The transects were wetter than any previous day in the last two weeks. Any sign that was left over the weekend was surely wiped clean from the torrential rain fall over the weekend. We only found two deer tracks that we believe were left early this
morning after the rain had stopped.
Our attention then turned to the soot traps. We hustled out of the woods as swarms of
mosquitoes and deer flies swarmed Leah. They like Leah. Leah
doesn't like bug spray. Leah prefers the "bug dance" to
deet. The rest of us prefer
deet. The brisk walk woke up Matt and he immediately headed to the
large soot trap placed at the 50 meter mark by a large birch tree on the farm
transect. As Matt neared the trap, he noticed something wasn't right. The grasses and shrubs were high and as he bent low to dig through the weeds it hit him. The smell of the soot trap felt as though he was trapped at the bottom of a fraternity house dumpster, awash with filth and foul debris.
The visceral reaction to the wretched smell was to immediately gag and Matt's eyes began to well with tears. He powered on, not wanting to show weakness to his teammates. As he carried the trap to the open the team cries rang out. "My god! What is that smell!" Vicki exclaimed. "Yuck" Lizzy said in gross understatement. "
Arrrgh", Gasp. Gasp. "
Arrrgh" Leah began dry heaving. As Matt placed the trap down, vile, disgusting roach-like beetles swarmed out of the trap and scurried for safety. They
were covered in a creamy white substance that smelled of a rich, organic composted
vomit. The ocean white fish tuna used for bait had chemically
transformed into a slurry of slimy sludge writhing with beetles and maggots. It was a horror show of stench and visual disgust so profound that we spent the better part of the next hour scrubbing our hands, washing our faces and flooding the traps with high pressure water. Collecting data was far from our minds.
After the air cleared and Leah
stopped dry heaving we headed back to campus to continue working on our data analysis and presentation. It will take time to heal from the morning
insult to the senses, but we must if we hope to venture out again. Perhaps the wet nose of a puppy dog or the bright colors of a butterfly will help us heal. Only time will tell.
For the unsqueamish, feel free to check out our short, unprofessional clip of the sludge and maggots that greeted us in our mammal trap. If you can view it in full screen, it will be easier to see. Be grateful that you can't smell what you're seeing!