Rock rabbits

For those of us who enjoy hiking in the high country above 5,000 feet, it’s hard to beat the delight of coming face-to-face with the tiny hay farmer of high country, the American Pika.

Although they are little guys — only about eight inches long — and look a little like a big mouse, pikas are not rodents. They’re actually the smallest member of the lagomorph bunch, which include all the rabbits and hares. For that reason, pikas are also known as rock rabbits.

The lifestyle of pikas is pretty much like that of humans — some of them work their tails off making sure they have enough to feed the family, while other pikas steal from them at every opportunity.

Pikas live where snow and ice cover the ground for as much as six months out of the year, and the cold doesn’t bother them as long as they have enough to eat. They don’t hibernate but remain active, munching their stored plants and lichens under the snow. Pikas live to eat.

Alpine-dwelling pikas go after food in several ways. Daily sustenance is taken care of by eating grass, herbs and other greenery.

Contrary to the lovely tale spun by Ernest Thompson Seton and others about pikas setting out their hay-piles to dry, they are actually very selective about what plants they stockpile for winter and don’t bother to dry any of them.

Rock rabbits will often harvest plants — such as larkspur — that if eaten fresh, would kill them, but when stored, the poison deteriorates and becomes non-toxic. They also choose plants that will not mold, or will actually inhibit molding when stored with other greens.

Wildflowers, such as columbine are also poisonous when g,reen, but when they dry the poison flows back into the rootstock; therefore, pikas harvest dried-out columbine for a staple winter diet. They also go after the blossoms of columbine because of their nutritional and fatty content.

Pikas make hasty dashes from the safety of their rocky, talus fortress for a quick mouthful of grass that makes up their daily meal. This would seem like good strategy and a way to keep away from raptors, but weasels and pine martens intent on pika stew can be a serious problem for rock rabbits. However, when pikas are out gathering up the plants they’ll store away for winter they act almost fearless, especially regarding intruders of their kind.

Pikas defend their home range (and give warning of predators nearby) with loud whistling “Eeek! Eeek!” If a stranger doesn’t get the message to leave (or stop stealing), the defender may give chase and even grapple with the intruder, leaving no question that he — or she — had better get lost.

Pikas also sing. During the mating time — twice a year — male pikas begin the courtship by singing to the females, and when things are going right they join in an almost operatic duet.

Female pikas have two litters of young a year — usually triplets — the first as the spring break-up is beginning, so mom will have dependable forage that in turn will guarantee ample milk and good health for her babies.

No long-term family ties are developed or tolerated within the pika’s social relationships. They remain in their respective territories until mating takes place, and then return, and when the young are weaned and out on their own the adults quickly become intolerant of siblings and vice-versa.

One of the biggest benefits to the countryside around the pika’s home range is a continual robust plant diversity. As the pikas graze the landscape, there is a constant turnover in species, quality and quantity of plant life, but…

Sadly, all this may end if global warming continues at the rate is today. Pikas have been moving higher and higher to stay cool, but soon they will reach the alpine limits of grasses, herbs and other plant life, and then it will be extinction for this lovely little resident of the high country.