Beneath the Surface

I found out through a tweet that my favourite travel guide company was having a travel writing competition, and that entries were due in 24 hours. Even though I was (very) late, I had a spark of inspiration and wrote something that day. The theme was “beneath the surface” and the shortlisted entries were just announced today. Even though my story didn’t get selected as a finalist I still think it’s not half bad and I thought I’d post it here anyway.

Walking under Memphis

Although I was humming its most famous tune, I was not in Memphis to see any of its most famous sights. I was here to see the inside of a lizard’s brain.

I had never been to Memphis before, and as I was making my way through the airport I couldn’t get “Walking in Memphis” out of my head. I have always loved the song, and this was the first time I could sing it to myself while actually walking in Memphis. For weeks I had been anticipating my trip to this city steeped in American mythology, on the banks of America’s grandest river, the Mississippi. I was curious about Memphis’s famous attractions: Bourbon Street, Graceland, The Pyramid. But mostly I was eager to slice open the brain of a lizard and peer down at what was inside.

The following morning I arrived bright and early at Memphis’s Rhodes College and was immediately struck by the beauty of the campus. Its Old Gothic sandstone buildings are impressively imposing and give the campus an air of intellectual gravity – which I suspect was the architect’s intention. The fact that it was still only March meant that the trees were bare and the grass was dead, giving me a sense of quiet foreboding that was not helped by the fact the campus was deserted, it not yet being 7am. This was the only time my busy host, a Rhodes professor, had available to meet with me, so I hurried through the campus.

A sandstone wall at Rhodes College, Memphis Tennessee

I was stopped dead in my tracks when I arrived at my host’s building, or, rather, the location where his building should have been. What I found was not a beautiful structure made of multicolour sandstone, but an empty courtyard.

The courtyard where the building I was looking for should have been.

I searched the courtyard’s perimeter and found a non-descript set of damp concrete stairs that lead underground before ending abruptly at a concrete wall. As I descended the steps I noticed a door to the right, without any indication as to where it might lead.

The nondescript concrete steps leading underground.

To my surprise the door was unlocked, and opening it revealed a poorly-lit, cavernous hallway. In display cases along the walls taxidermied animals stared at me through their glassy eyes, but otherwise it was completely deserted. I wandered the halls, my footsteps making uncomfortably loud echoes, searching darkened offices and research labs for signs of life. Eventually I noticed one lab with a light on, and to my relief found my host.

I had ventured into this underground lair of a research facility to learn a new technique for studying the brains of lizards, which I use to learn about how evolution shapes brains through natural selection. The professor I was visiting is one of the world’s foremost experts on the topic. The technique is called immunohistochemistry and uses extracts from the blood of animals, in this case goats, donkeys, and rabbits, to study how certain proteins are distributed inside a brain. It’s rather like attending a one-day cooking class to learn a new cooking technique, except the ingredients are closer to the components of a witch’s brew than a crème brûlée.

I spent that day in the underground laboratory learning how to carefully slice lizard brain tissue, combine the slices with solutions derived from the blood of animals, stir the mixture thoroughly, and then mount the slices carefully on microscope slides. It felt appropriate to be learning this in a lair under a city famous for Hoodoo mysticism. Of course at the end of the process we did not consume our concoction, but rather examined the brain slices under a microscope. And instead of reciting incantations we discussed how to identify brain cells that produce the neurotransmitters oxytocin and vasopressin. In my mind, the whole experience emphasized how much modern science can have the feel of witchcraft when you take a step back.

Some slices from the brain of a lizard incubating in a solution derived from rabbit and donkey blood.

My host, the lizard brain expert, found nothing particularly unusual about his lab, only lamenting the lack of windows. But as I was leaving campus that evening, I was thinking about how a large scientific research facility was present on this campus yet almost completely undetectable, and I wondered what else an old, mystic city like Memphis might be hiding below its surface.

Not finding animals around Trondheim, Norway

Recently I was spending a week in Trondheim, Norway, and tried desperately to find interesting animals. It should have been pretty straightforward; there are some really good spots for animals in the area. However, April is not the ideal time of year, things are far too frozen, and I mostly failed to find my target species. I did get some good local knowledge, though, so I thought I’d post what I heard - and what I did manage to find.

Muskox

The train station where you get off to look for musk ox.

The main draw in the area, for me at least, are the world’s most accessible wild muskox. Reintroduced to the alpine plateau of Dovrefjell, they can been seen relatively easily according to this website. Just hop on a train in Trondheim, hop off at Kongsvoll, and hike 3ish km! That is amazingly accessible for the world’s most remote northernly hoofed mammal.

However, note that all the pictures on that website appear to be taken in summer. In April, the place is snow covered and bleak. The train station is a the bottom of a gorge through the mountains, in mid-April I found it snowy but sunny and pleasant with a temperature around zero. That is not where the muskox live, however. They live on the plateau east of the gorge.

I took this picture standing at the train station at the bottom of the gorge, looking east. These buildings (which were locked up) mark the start of the muskox trail, which leads up the ridge behind the buildings and up onto the plateau beyond, where the musk ox live.

The first couple km of the muskox trail lead up the eastern wall of the gorge and over the ridge - not an easy stroll, especially in knee-deep snow. And once I got over the ridge, the temperature plummeted. This itself was not a big problem - I was dressed for this - but it does make the experience significantly less comfortable.

A view of the beech forest that covers the sides of the gorge that I hiked up. After this point my phone got too cold and stopped working, so there are no more pictures. The plateau looked the same as this, but without the trees.

I hiked along the Muskox trail towards the Høgsnyta lookout. Though muskox can be found anywhere along the trail, they are most commonly seen from the lookout (apparently). As I walked towards the lookout the wind picked up, and with it, snow squalls blocked my view to the point where, a few times, I had to stop and wait for them to die down because I couldn’t seen the ground through all the white and couldn’t tell if I was walking on flat ground or about to go over a cliff! So I never made it to the lookout, and I didn’t see any muskox.

Rock Ptarmigan

Here’s one I saw: I flushed on at the edge of the tree line while walking back to the train after my failed attempt to see the musk ox.

Mountain Hare

These are present in the forest that grows along the sides of the gorge. I saw three between my trips up and down the gorge. Other people also report seeing them, so it seems they’re pretty common at the site.

Reindeer

They exist in large herds in Dovrefjell but the movement of the herds is apparently unpredictable. Very hard to see.

Red Deer

Apparently common on Hitra Island, in particular around Sandstad. Unfortunately I didn’t make it to the island.

Roe Deer

Apparently also common on Hitra Island. I didn’t see them near Trondheim but I did see them hiking north of Sognsvann subway station in Oslo, on the hiking trail that runs along the eastern side of Sognsvann Lake.

Eurasian Beaver

The dam where you can see beavers was completely frozen over. I couldn’t even find any openings where the beavers might be coming up for air. It was just way too early in the season to be looking for them.

There is a well-known spot for beaver in Trondheim - several people pointed me to the same place. Theisendammen, on the western edge of the city, has a family of beavers, and apparently the best place to wait for them to appear is from the lookout platform at 63.420690, 10.344516. Again, however, I would recommend looking for them later than April, because the whole dam was still solidly covered with ice (and snow) when I visited. In Canada I’m used to looking for beavers in gaps in the ice of frozen ponds and lakes, but here there were no gaps, just solid ice.

Eurasian Otter

Otters are regular along the ocean shoreline in Trondheim, there were sightings while I was there. However, there don’t appear to be regular spots, you just have to luck upon one, and I never did.

Black Grouse & Western Capercaillie

Both are apparently common in Bymarka Nature Reserve, the hill to the east of Trondheim. I also heard a rumour that there is a population of Siberian Jays here. I took the tram to Lian Station and walked uphill, but didn’t luck upon any of these three.

Adder

Buried somewhere under all this snow is an adder hibernaculum.

I’ve seen pictures online from Norway and Sweden of adders out basking on snow in the spring, and I found them to be such a strange juxtaposition. I was hoping to see this phenomenon in person as someone gave me the location he’d seen an adder just a week before I arrived. Unfortunately there had been a lot of snowfall in the intervening week, and the site, 63.376644,10.285963, was not accessible without snowshoes (which I did not have).

White-throated Dipper

Let’s end on a happy note. This is one target animal I did manage to find in Trondheim. I’m not sure how common dippers are in urban environments, but I found this one at 63.431136, 10.363289, smack in the city night next to a construction site.