Foot injury- Stillness among the Giants

The largest remaining grove of ancient redwoods are around Humboldt Redwoods State Park in Northern California. The Avenue of the Giants is a scenic drive through the park and redwood groves. The trees are so massive and close to the road that you totally feel like they are hugging you.

Ancient coastal redwoods towering up to 350 feet.

Coastal redwoods are the world's tallest trees, and despite my passion for big trees (which gave me my trail name of 'Hemlock') this is the first time I've seen the redwoods.  I hadn't been planning on this visit though. But I am on my fifth week of recovery after getting off the PCT for a stress fracture. Steph suggested this trip because it is one of her favorite places (Thanks Steph!) and because I would be able to get outdoors without needing to walk.

Making peace with the boot.

Stress fractures are an overuse injury caused by doing too much activity, repeatedly, with not enough rest. So now I'm on a mission to learn patience and how to rest. Not at all easy for someone whose happiest time ever was hiking 12-14 hours a day, day after day.  I love to travel, to move, to explore, and to physically push myself.  I get antsy being still. But because I'm off the trail because of this, I'd better figure things out and learn some patience, so I can have a lifetime of healthy backpacking.

Redwoods fracture too.

At the Avenue of the Giants, Steph and I drive to one of the many pullouts along the road. I slowly hobble in my boot to a big tree close to the car, stretch out on my sit pad, and let my toes breath in the air. I touch the fallen leaves, feel the trunk against my spine, listen to the birds and crickets, and settle into the stillness.

Massive.

It's been years since I've meditated but beneath these redwoods, the practice comes right back to me.  I let go of my longing to venture up the trail or down the cliff to the river. (but at first, oh how I long to go play!). I make peace with not seeing the end of the path, not looking around the next bend for a bigger and more wonderfully gnarled tree, and not turning over rocks in the river. I breathe.  I let all my thoughts go.

What if I can see everything I need to from right here? What if the tree I'm sitting against is just the right one. What if I can enjoy the stream without knowing if there are caddisfly larvae in it? What if its ok for me to just be here where I am?

I can hear traffic of the road and sense encroaching civilization.  But right now the forest is incredibly still, and bursting with life.

I lie sprawled out on the ground gazing upward at the soaring trees, my leg anchored by the heavy boot at a funny angle. Steph and I exclaim how wonderful the light is, and laugh at how child-like we feel goofing off in the woods.

Doubled over in laughter at being sprawled on the ground in my boot looking up at the trees.

I temporarily lost that which I believed defined me and the one thing I could always rely on to make me happy. My darkest fear has been loosing my ability to hike, and now that's happened. It has been like going through a divorce or loss of a loved one. But here in these redwoods, I am able to dig deep and see that the inner peace remains. Then I am truly free. Sure it's a different freedom than the one I so easily find on the trail but this is a freedom that glows within me and that external forces and circumstances can't touch. I will carry this with me when I leave this incredible place.

Picnic shelter in the Women's Grove.

Check out these awesome videos about the redwoods:
Tallest tree found in Redwood National Park (part 1) (part 2)

Wanted: Wisteria

A break from PCT planning for an important pubic service announcement….

Dear Readers in GA, NC, and SC,

Are you going to be visiting any of these places on this map (shown below) over the next few weeks this spring?  Can you take a few moments away from your hiking to help out a graduate student studying invasive plants?

Are you planning on going to any of these points on this map?

My friend Sandra Hoffberg is looking for volunteers to hunt for wisteria, a vine with showy purple flowers, at specific sites.  You can help her with this critical part of her dissertation research by checking out her website and contacting her.  She can’t offer payment in return, but you will get the satisfaction of being part of a very cool research project, and knowing that you got to help ‘DO SCIENCE.’  It'll be like going on a treasure hunt!

Wisteria is highly invasive vine in the southeast.

All you have to do is let her know if you find wisteria at one of these sites on her map and take a photo.  Be sure to click on the points (on her website) for the written description of the location.  Then have her enter the data on her website.  For all you wildflower enthusiasts, weekend hikers, and springtime travelers who are out enjoying the gorgeous southeastern spring, that should be easy.

Me, another grad student, and Sandra holding wisteria leaves.

All those dots on her maps are places where wisteria has been documented before in herbarium records.  But no one knows how long an invasive species can remain in the same place or at what rate invasive vines go extinct.  Everyone assumes that once an invasive plant establishes, that it’s there forever.  But Sandra’s research investigates this assumption.  Landscape changes might cause some populations to go locally extinct— she has already done preliminary surveys to show this occurs in some places.  Understanding how invasive plants get established and what happens to them over time may help (eventually) to slow their spread and offer solutions for control.

A long-forgotten cemetery teeming with wisteria.

I helped Sandra with her field work for the past few years.  Exploring the backroads (and back alleys) of Georgia hunting for wisteria and kudzu was one of the most fun parts of my job.  Since I’m heading out to go hike the PCT in less than two weeks, I’m going to miss this field season, but I can’t wait to hear about the findings! 

That’s me two years ago recording wisteria sites in Athens, GA.

Once again, please check out her website and contact her if you can help, or forward this message on to anyone you know who in the southeast.

Thank you,

Joan (Hemlock)

Nature Notes: Wild Boar

I had just been cursing at the jumbled mess that had been made of the remote stretch of the Bartram Trail when I heard the loud snort.   Three wild boar (also called feral hogs) and a swarm of their babies were directly in front of me-- they were the ones responsible for all that rooting and upheaval of the trail.  There was brief moment when we locked eyes and sized one another up-- I was alone and weaponless, while the they seemed enormous and I imagined that their sharp tusks could slice right through me.  Much to my relief, they bolted off in the opposite direction, while I yelled at them in hopes they would keep running far away. 

When I first saw them, this is exactly what the wild boar looked like.

Numerous people have told me that wild boar are very dangerous-- and these were people unafraid of bears.  I've only seen them twice before, and didn't know much about their behavior.  Even though my plan had been to camp another mile up the trail,  I couldn't tell how far they had gone, so I turned around and headed back in the direction I'd come.   I hiked until dark and then set up camp.  I figured five miles seemed a very safe distance away.  In fact, I felt so safe that evening that I went on a night hike for an hour-- the longest night hike I've ever done solo-- and was rewarded by getting to see an owl up close!

On the way home, I felt disappointed with myself for turning around when I saw the wild hogs.  I've been working on being more fearless, and didn't know if I was being a scaredy cat or being sensible.  How dangerous are wild boars?   So when I got home, I started researching.  The facts are shocking, but not for reasons you'd expect. 

Attacks of hikers or campers are exceedingly rare.  Wild boar are highly wary of people, mostly run away, and probably the only reason I saw them was I was being quiet and it was late afternoon.   If you corner them, they will defend themselves though, which is why hunters and their dogs may get injured on occasion-- though there have only been four deaths since the 1800's.  After learning this, wild boar definitely go on my list of things not to be afraid of! 

What I was shocked to learn about is all the horrible environmental destruction caused by wild boar.   Specifically to salamanders and ladyslipper orchids!  How maddening!  Wild boar in Georgia are invasive pests that dig up vegetation in large areas of forest as they root around for acorns, plants, and even little critters to eat, and they wallow in springs and streams which fowls up water sources.  Plus they transmit disease.  Hogs were introduced to North America as livestock, but became feral upon escaping from captivity.  They also interbred with European wild boars that were introduced for hunting, and the wild boars are a hybrid mix of these wild and domesticated types.  They certainly don't belong here, and I was glad to read that the DNR has an aggressive control and eradication effort underway.

References:

Really interesting article in the New Yorker on the problem of wild boar:  
    HOGS WILD. By Frazier, Ian, 12/12/2005, Vol. 81, Issue 40.

How wild boar aren't a problem for hikers:
    http://www.floridahikes.com/worried-about-feral-hogs

For hunters, but talks about the Warwoman Wildlife Management Area, where I was hiking:        http://www.gameandfishmag.com/2010/10/04/hunting_big-game-hunting_ga_1102_08/

Information about wild boar in the Smokies:
     http://smokiesinformation.org/nature-wildlife/wild-hogs

Trip Details:

This was a New Years eve solo, out and back, overnight from Warwoman Dell north on the Bartram Trail up towards Windy Gap.

Nature Notes: Gaywings

 Not only are gaywings (Polygala paucifolia) improbably cute and small with bursts of fringe, but they also have a hidden secret.  In addition to their regular, colorful and showy flowers, gaywings have hidden, small flowers underground called "cleistogamous" flowers which self-fertilize to make seeds.  The downside of selfing is that the offspring could suffer inbreeding depression, but at least some offspring result, so it may be better than nothing.  With cool fringe on their regular flowers to lure in the bees, it's surprising they need a reproductive back-up plan, but sometimes pollinators are scarce.  Plants in this family (the Polygalaceae) tend to be rare or endemic so there may not always be other plants around to fertilize the regular flowers.  Gaywings in Georgia can be locally abundant, but they are only found in a few sites around here.

Above-ground regular flowers with fancy fringe

I made a special trip to Panther Creek Falls in Habersham Co., Georgia to see these remarkable flowers for myself.  This trail tends to be a popular place, so given my love for quiet, I'd only ever been there in winter.  But it was worth it to brave the crowds over Easter weekend to find the gaywings carpeting the forest floor in simmering lilac.

More gaywings!

In addition to gaywings, there were many other plants in bloom all along the trail. 

Showy orchis

Catesby's trillium

Toothwort (with spider)

This rhododendron attracted a pollinator.

Quest for Shortia (Part 3): Distracted by Trillium

Tallulah Gorge State Park lists Shortia (Oconee Bell) on it's list of rare plants, so I decided to continue my quest for finding it there.

At the bottom of the gorge, the sparkle of a plant caught my eye.  Not Shortia as I'd hoped, but nevertheless something that registered as "unusual".  Like a trillium, though quite small, and not yet fully open.  Heart pounding with excitement, I stretched as far out over the railing as possible, to get a good look.  I continued on my quest, going twice around the loop, up and down all the steps, and down all the side trails, so I could pay attention to each side of the trail with my full attention, but no Shortia!

Back at the visitors center, I read the display on the federally endangered "persistent trillium" found only in and near Tallulah Gorge.  It's called "persistent" because leaves stay on the plant into September, while most other trilliums dye back in summer.   First success: finding a new (to me) rare trillium!

Persistent Trillium

I also asked about the Oconee Bell at the visitor's center, but the rangers didn't know about it.  I was actually happy, in a strange way, not to find it, because it wouldn't be a proper quest if I'd found it so quickly.  Therefore, my second success was NOT finding Shortia.

The next day, I went over to the native flora garden at the State Botanical Gardens of Georgia in Athens to confirm my identification of the persistent trillium.  They have an excellent collection of trilliums, including a few labeled specimens of the persistent trillium which were in flower and looked exactly like the one I'd seen at the bottom of Tallulah Gorge.

For more info on the Persistent Trillium, read the Master's Thesis by Cassandra Plank called "Demography and Community Characterization of the Federally Endangered Herb, Trillium persistens: A study across its range including fire-dependent habitat.  A link to the pdf is here.

Quest for Shortia (Part 2): Not it!

I don't expect to find Shortia (Oconee Bells) this weekend, but that wasn't going to stop me from looking.  It's too early for them to be in bloom, but I could still hunt for their characteristic leaves.  I decided to do a solo, overnight, out-and back backpacking trip along the Foothills Trail from Burrells Ford Road to Whitewater Falls where I wasn't as likely to find them.  That way I could save more promising sections for later in the spring, and still check this section off my to-do list. 

At home, I etched the image of the Oconee Bell leaf in my brain, especially in comparison to galax.  I memorized features of its habitat and the list of plants it's likely to be found with (rhododendron, hemlock, near streams on north facing slopes).  I knew I was finally reaching the point of being totally obsessed when I started dreaming of Oconee Bell leaves.

While hiking, I honed my search image.  I practiced recognizing and distinguishing any evergreen plants with roundish leaves, so my brain learned what was NOT Oconee Bell. 

Heartleaf- NOT it!

Even though I didn't find the Oconee Bell, the trip was a special because I got a clear view of the moon, Venus, and Jupiter all in a together in the sky. 

Nature Notes: Earthstars

Earthstars really are the stars of the fungus world: stunning, dramatic, and difficult to spot.  Keep your eyes peeled for these beauties after the end of a long rain.

While most of the earthstar fungus grows below ground in a symbiotic association with tree roots, the fruiting body makes its appearance in late fall.  When it first comes up, the fruiting body looks like a giant sphere.  But then in response to rain, the outer star-shaped covering opens up to reveal the central spherical spore sac.  This acts to push aside debris and raise the sac up off the ground, providing the spores a chance to travel greater distances when they are released through the opening in the top of the sac.

I spotted a patch of earthstars at Arabia Mountain (east of Atlanta) this weekend.  The one below is somewhat dried out, so it isn't fully open.  The other earthstar shown below is from last year at Joyce Kilmer in North Carolina.

At Arabia Mountain, November 2011.

At Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest, November 2010.

Big Trees of Joyce Kilmer Forest

The Joyce Kilmer memorial forest, with its massive tulip poplar trees, seems untouched and unspoiled.  But on my recent trip to this forest, I've learned a different story about these trees (for more info-- see Homan 2007):  this forest used to be dominated by even bigger trees and the trees community is even now changing dramatically.  A hundred years ago, the American chestnuts in the Joyce Kilmer forest were massive compared to these tulip poplars-  in fact some were so large that early settlers lived inside the hollowed out trees.  Now, young chestnut trees sprout from the old stumps, but rarely do they live long enough reproduce before they succumb to the chestnut blight, a fungus introduced from Asia.

On our hike though the Joyce Kilmer Wilderness, I spotted a burr on the ground beneath a grove of sprouts that looked to me like chestnut.  Having just read in the guidebook about chestnuts, I excitedly picked it up (ouch! those burrs are sharp!).  It was spiky on the outside and split in four sections, and the seed was no longer inside.  Could it really be from a fruiting American chestnut?  After I returned home, I consulted an excellent online guide to chestnut identification (link here), and this looks like the American chestnut from what I can tell.  The American Chestnut Foundation says that if you find what you think it is an American chestnut, to send them a leaf and twig for identification.  Unfortunately, I didn't take a sample this time.  The group is trying to identify and study American chestnuts in hopes to breed trees resistant to the blight for reintroduction.

Is this burr from an American chestnut?

The second largest trees in the Joyce Kilmer forest, towering almost as tall as the tulip poplars, are the hemlocks.  Sadly, the hemlocks are now mostly only dead snags, killed by the introduced hemlock woolly adelgid.  On our hike, we learned that next week (link here), the trails will be closed and the tops of the dead hemlocks will be blasted with dynamite.  This will prevent the dead trees from falling on hikers, and the idea is that the blasted-off trees will look more natural than if they used chain saws to fell the trees.  I craned my neck looking up at the huge towering hemlocks, thinking how these snags would be gone in just another week.  How many people before me had looked up at this beautiful tree over the years?  What trees will rise up to fill in the gaps in the canopy?

Ill-fated hemlock snag in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest.

Source: Homan, Tim. 2007. Hiking Trails of the Joyce Kilmer--Slickrock and Cisco Creek Wildernesses. 3rd Edition.

Nature Notes: Paw Paw

Fall is paw paw season!  So I thought I'd tell you the story of my favorite native fruit...

It was the tropical fruity smell that caught our attention first.  My Maryland hiking partner and I were hiking up past Weaverton Cliffs on the AT in MD one fall.   It took us a while to find the source of the wonderful fragrance.  When we finally found the smooth, oblong fruits with dappled yellow-green skin on the ground, we had no idea what they were.  I brought a few home, and they ripened on my dresser.  Cutting the fruits open revealed several dark, fava-bean shaped seeds.  The flesh was bright yellow, juicy, and tasted like a cross between a banana and a mango.

A bit of research showed they were pawpaw, one of the few native fruits in the eastern US.  They are delicious raw and in pudding, and make marvelous ice cream. 

Why aren't pawpaw lining the shelves in supermarkets, a staple in kid's lunches, and served for dessert in restaurants?  I mean, this fruit is WAY tastier than bananas and it's AMERICAN. 

It turns out that they don't have a long shelf-life and are hard to transport.  But I just think people just don't know about them.  I mean, I can't imagine that with some selective breeding or genetic engineering...  I also can't figure out why everyone doesn't grow them in their yards-- then there's no need for transport.  But until I get my own garden, I search the forests and river valleys on all my hikes for the pawpaw tree, and I eagerly anticipate paw paw season (Sept. and early October).

Since moving to Georgia, I've searched high and low for pawpaws.  I still haven't found fruits yet, but I finally found a grove of the small trees up in the Cohuttas on the trail to Jack's River falls.  I've read that they are also located at Warwoman Dell.  I can't seem to time my hikes right to find ripe fruits though.  But around September and October, I keep my eyes peeled and sniff the air expectantly, because you never know what might turn up.

Cross-section of a pawpaw fruit

Nature Notes: Pinesap

I find parasitic plants totally fascinating.  Parasitic plants don't have any chlorophyll, and instead of getting energy from the sun like most plants, some of them have their roots connected to fungi, (often mycorrhizal fungi) that may be associated with the roots of other plants.  So the energy and nutrients are shuttled from one plant (like a tree) through the fungi and then into the parasitic plant.  Imagine all the complex interactions that are happening below ground that we don't see!

I've found two common parasitic plants on my hikes:

Pinesap (Monotropa hypopithys) is a fantastic reddish hue in the fall, and there is a large patch of it that I like to visit on the Coosa trail on the side of Blood Mountain.

Pinesap

Pinesap is related to Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora), which is also found in our area.  Indian pipe is usually white and has only one flower per stalk, while pinesap has a few flowers. 

Indian pipe

Nature Notes: Cranefly orchid

After years of searching, I finally found the elusive cranefly orchid in flower up in Tennessee!!!  This was cause for much excitement because I've been seeing the distinctive and unusually beautiful leaves of this plant for years now (which are purple on the underside!).  The trouble is that the leaves are out in fall and winter, but then the leaves shrivel up.  They bloom for only a short time in July or August.  The flowers were tricky to spot because they blended in so well with the forest.

I saw this orchid on the Lowry Falls Trail near the Hiawassee River in Tennessee.  This was a short, easy trail along the banks of a little stream that lead to a waterfalls.  It featured some impressive limestone rock formations.  You have to park across the road and walk to the trailhead on the road, but it's well worth the short walk of less than 2 miles round trip.  Even though this trail is located on a busy road, I didn't get the impression too many people do this hike.  Most of the people seemed to be heading to the whitewater rafting outfitters.

Cranefly orchid
(the stunningly beautiful purple underside)

Cranefly orchid leaf
(taken in April on the Approach Trail near Amicalola Falls)

Lowry Falls

Nature Notes: Irises

Two kinds of native irises can be found in Georgia, and we saw both of these on our hike on the Bear Creek trail near Ellijay.  The "dwarf crested iris" (Iris cristata) has fuzzy crests (a lot more going on in terms of flower ruffles!) while the "dwarf iris" (Iris verna) has more simple lines.  They are also somewhat different shades of blueish purple.  I think it really helps to figure out the differences between these two species when you can compare them on the same hike.

  Here is a link to more information about irises:

www.fs.fed.us/wildflowers/plant-of-the-week/iris_verna.shtml

Don't miss the Gennett Poplar on this hike-- it's the second largest tree in Georgia.
 

Dwarf crested iris

dwarf iris

Nature Notes: Tree Foam

Tree foam looks like bubble bath.

There are many reasons to go hiking during the rain: the solitude, wildlife, scents, and vivid colors to name a few.  But at the top of my list has got to be tree foam.  Also referred to as "stemflow", when rain water drips down the trunks of trees, it picks up impurities and forms bubble-bath looking suds at the base of trees.  Sometimes, the pattern is localized, so that one one or two trees in the forest will have the bubbles.  We've also seen tree foam at the base of nearly every tree in the forest.  Tree foam forms in any season, but seems to be most dependent on the length, duration, and intensity of rainfall.  I find tree foam absolutely delightful and one of the special treats of hiking in the rain.

My Maryland hiking partner and I noticed this tree foam when we were hiking several years ago, and were unable to find an explanation.   For a long time, I would ask everyone I hike with if they'd ever seen tree foam.  I got a lot of blank stares.  One hiking friend actually had seen it, and she calls it "tree spit"!

I finally found some literature about "stemflow" which provides a good scientific description of the process:
www.forestryforum.com/board/index.php?topic=36551.0
As I understand it, rain water dissolves stuff from the treebark as it flows down the stem of the tree.  This changes the surface tension of the water, so that when it drips down towards the base of the tree,  air is introduced due to the turbulence of the water, and foam is formed because of the altered surface tension.

Foam isn't just restricted to trees either.  There is also "rock foam" and one time we even saw "trail foam" as the water was flowing downhill on a leaf-covered trail.

Closeup of the bubbles

On every tree

Big trees

Here is a collection of photos of my favorite big trees I've visited in the last few years.  I've also added a few photos of the hikes to the trees, because they are usually found at some stunning places.

1. Sitka spruce on the coast of Oregon.  I've been visiting this same tree as long as I can remember on the coast of Oregon.  I love how the branches are shaped like giant arms.  This tree is a short distance from an incredible view of the Pacific Ocean.

2. Poplars at Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in North Carolina.  Immense trees in a small old growth forest remnant.  This is one of the most beautiful walks because there is such a high concentration of big trees and they give the forest a primeval feel.

3. Gennett Poplar on the Bear Creek Trail in Georgia.  The second largest tree in North Georgia.

4. On the AT near Woody Gap in Georgia.  This tree cracks me up!

5. After I interviewed for a job in Fargo, North Dakota,  I drove over to Itasca State Park.  After stopping to soak my feet at the headwaters of the Mississippi river, I strolled over to this big tree, the largest red pine in Minnesota.  As luck would have it, the showy pink lady slippers were also in bloom.  It was a beautiful area... in JULY!   I'm thankful I didn't take the job, and instead ended up in Georgia.

6. Bristlecone pine.  Cedar Breaks National Monument in Utah.