For thousands of years the Scuppernong River ran free, cutting its path across the bed of the old Glacial Lake Scuppernong per the laws of nature.
In the 1870s Talbot Dousman established a trout hatchery at the headwaters of the river at the Scuppernong Springs, temporarily subjecting the river to the laws of man. The trout farmers engineered the river with multiple levees, dams and flumes eventually leaving the headwaters submerged under two ponds.
I’ve been getting intimately familiar with the river, you might say, “getting in bed” with it, literally running my fingers through the muck searching for the original riverbed. As I removed the planks that formed the flumes, I discovered that the river is bisected by 10 huge 6×8″ beams 16′ long.
While the river was under the ponds, a lot of silt and marl migrated into the riverbed and, as we can see above, was trapped behind the beams. This past Wednesday, Ben Johnson and I removed the first of these beams, the one shown above that points to the left, and we also removed more planks from the flume and other wood structures where the flumes began.
Ben and I are very excited about giving mother nature a free hand to restore the natural riverbed in this area by removing the remaining 9 beams. Free the Scuppernong River!
Pati and I took a short vacation last week up at the Chippewa Flowage to relax and do some paddling and biking. The area is beautiful and we looked forward to exploring it. Pati found the excellent documentary below about how the flowage was created, and it was disturbing to see yet another case of the native tribes being steam rolled by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. As we paddled different areas of the flowage, I kept thinking of how beautiful it must have been before the dam was put in, and the native way of life in the Chippewa River Valley was destroyed forever.
I was eager to get back to The Springs and on Monday, July 14, I spent the morning cutting weeds like Bouncing Bet (shown below), Nodding Thistle and Canadian Fleabane on the sand prairie.
In the afternoon I got into the river and removed more of the planking that formed the flumes just below the Scuppernong Spring (see pictures above), and I discovered the 10, huge beams, bisecting the river.
Happily exhausted, I watched the sun set and imagined the river set free.
On Wednesday, I “mowed” the trail from the area around the hotel spring, north up to signpost #13, and then, following the cut-off trail, to the marl pits. I cut a lot of thistle that was about to go to seed and tons of white clover near the marl pits with my brush cutter, which is a lot more handy than a mower for stepping off the trail to get the nearby weeds.
In the afternoon, I cleaned up the area where I removed planks from the river. Some of the oak planks are in relatively good shape and might make interesting components in some artwork. I plan to revisit the stacks and reclaim some choice pieces. You are welcome to do the same. I asked Ben to bring his cordless reciprocating saw thinking we could cut notches in the beams to create gaps for the river to flow through. That was a bad idea and Ben quickly concluded that we needed to dig the beams out. It took the two of us over an hour to remove the beam shown in the picture above, but I think the process will go faster in the future now that we know what we are up against.
Yesterday I returned to The Springs to cut some buckthorn and pull spotted knapweed and found that Andy Buchta had completed piling all the brush near the parking lot on Hwy ZZ. Thanks Andy!
I wanted to finish a strip of buckthorn that separated an area we opened up last Fall from the area near the parking lot that we cleared this Spring shown above.
I had to deal with some technical difficulties with my stump sprayer and chainsaw, its been a while since I cut buckthorn, but I got it done.
I spent the afternoon pulling knapweed on the sand prairie. Although the knapweed is starting to flower, there is a window of opportunity to continue pulling it before it sets seed. Assuming I won’t get it all pulled, I’ll use the brush cutter to mow the remainder (except for the areas dedicated to introducing weevils.) The problem is that its impossible to cut the knapweed without also cutting the surrounding native plants, so I’m trying to pull as much as possible. The good news is that I sent in my permit to the Wisconsin Department of Agriculture, which I got from Weed Busters, and I should be receiving my Cyphocleonus Achates knapweed root weevils soon. We’ll get the Larinus Minutus Obtusis flower weevils next year (that is how they recommend doing it).
Steve (third from the left below), and his Ecology class from UW Madison, stopped on their tour to say hello as I was wrestling with the knapweed. Did you take a drink of the marvelous spring water?
It’s buggy as hell now at The Springs and my bug net is constantly at the ready. So be prepared if you come out…
Well, it’s that time of year. No, not when you start to go crazy anticipating spring weather, it’s Tax Time. What? You haven’t started working on your taxes yet? Pati and I sat down today to collect the numbers and I was reminded of how critical the support of the Kettle Moraine Natural History Association (KMNHA is on Facebook) is to the restoration work we are doing at The Springs. Oh, and the brand new pair of steel-toed muck boots I wore yesterday working in the Buckthorn Alley were also a great reminder as well.
The Kettle Moraine Natural History Association is a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping preserve the features of outstanding interest in the Southern Unit of the Kettle Moraine State Forest. The Kettle Moraine Natural History Association generates financial support through gift shop sales, donations, and membership dues. It has provided matching funds for Stewardship grants. (Kettle Moraine State Forest Southern Unit)
Ron Kurowski — Retired DNR Park Naturalist; champion of the Scuppernong River Habitat Area restoration project; editor of The Scuppernong Journal.
Marlin Johnson — Retired UW-Waukesha biology professor and currently the property manager at the UW-Waukesha Field Station. Marlin is also on the board of directors of the Waukesha County Land Conservancy and was instrumental in acquiring the 26 acre Minogue property at the Hartland Marsh, where Pati and I still serve as caretakers.
Joicelyn Schwager — Retired Finance Director/Treasurer for the Village of Hartland and the one who signs my checks! The KMNHA pays for all the gear and supplies I use at The Springs and I couldn’t do it without their support.
The KMNHA is a great organization and their, always entertaining and informative, annual meeting is coming up soon. Reach out to Ron Kurowski at:
Kettle Moraine Natural History Association
S91 W39091 Hwy 59
Eagle, WI 53119
or, visit the Kettle Moraine State Forest Southern Unit headquarters to pick up an application, and join the KMNHA and you’ll receive their excellent quarterly publication The Scuppernong Journal. Here’s a sample to wet your appetite.
With all the rain we had this past Thursday, I was glad to have on my new pair of muck boots yesterday; the slush was just an inch or two below the surface of the snow. I’ll try to contain my excitement as I describe the work on the last stretch of the Buckthorn Alley (well, the last stretch of the south side of the trail that is.) The first thing I noticed was that Andy Buchta had piled all of the brush that Ben, Zach and I cut last tuesday.
I really appreciate the way Andy just sees what needs to be done and does it. That enabled me to get right to work on the trail.
The blustery weather continued all day and blew the clouds away.
I cut a swath through the woods to open views to the hills on the south side of the Scuppernong River.
I couldn’t wait to drop my gear off at the truck and take a walk on the cut-off trail to see the effects of the days work from another perspective. In the center of pictures below you can faintly make out the wetland adjoining the Buckthorn Alley trail, where I spent the day and where we have been focused for the last couple months.
Here are a few views from my favorite spots along the loop trail.
A lot of ingredients go into a successful land restoration recipe and you’ll always find persistence as the base stock. Our chef Saturday, February 15, at the Kettle Moraine Oak Opening SNA chilly bowl, was noted Oakologist and Wisconsin DNR Conservation Biologist, Jared Urban.
Jared likes to spice up workdays with unique mixes of people, locations and activities and Saturday’s stew pot included burning brush piles and cutting and poisoning buckthorn, honeysuckle and other brush on the sunny south side of an oak covered moraine just northeast of the intersection of Bluff Road and County Hwy H. Enthusiastic volunteers from the Ecology Club, and S.A.G.E. (Students Allied for a Green Earth) at UW Whitewater, the Kettle Moraine Land Trust, and others, provided the meat and potatoes for the savory stew but Jared’s “secret ingredient” was Gary Birch.
Gary has dedicated his professional career (first with the Wisconsin DNR and currently with the Wisconsin Department of Transportation) and a lot of his personal time to nurturing, protecting and researching the flora and fauna in Wisconsin. Here is a small sample of Gary’s diverse activities:
Recipient of the 2002 Wisconsin DNR Volunteer Of The Year Award (along with The Buckthorn Man).
Researching the Karner Blue Butterfly for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service from his perspective as a Wisconsin Department of Transportation Biologist/Ecologist.
NR40 establishes classification of invasive species and regulates certain categories of plants. The BMPs (Best Management Practices) identify measures that ROW (right-of-way) managers can take to minimize the introduction and spread of invasive plants by applying maintenance resources effectively. A growing concern for more than 20 years, experts point to invasive species as a threat to ecological balance and the economic value of Wisconsin’s lands and water.
…
Gary Birch, an ecologist with the WisDOT Division of Transportation Development, says the department is reviewing the impact of NR40 on its policies and mowing directives for state highways. WisDOT also is working with the DNR to create programs on invasive species management for use around the state. Birch hopes to circulate the DNR Field Guide at future workshops, part of “a monumental effort” to help road maintenance managers and crew members recognize problem plants and what methods to use, when.
Gary’s life’s work epitomizes persistence, which is the key to any “monumental effort”. His latest tip is to check out the Pleasant Valley Conservancy SNA, which I plan to do soon! Thanks for everything you do Gary!
Meanwhile, back at the Oak Opening, Jared led a crew of brush cutters, stump poisoners and brush haulers and I led a team to set the piles on fire..
Zach Kastern led another team clearing brush along the horse trail.
Jerry took one for the team.
Herb Sharpless, with the Kettle Moraine Land Trust, led another crew working farther north along the horse trail, but they were in brush so dense that I didn’t see them!
It was another wonderful and satisfying day working at the Kettle Moraine Oak Opening SNA!
It was a clear and cold morning at the 2014 Scuppernong Springs Olympics.
In, perhaps the biggest upset in Olympic history, Andy Buchta…
…surprised the pundits and walked away with the gold medal in the PilingStyle event. In his first appearance at the Olympics, Buchta, a roofing professional by trade, impressed the judges with his flawless technique and flair for the dramatic as he created tall, compact and uniquely expressive piles from the scattered, snow-covered, buckthorn brush. Andy flew under the radar all week as most eyes were focused on three time gold medal winner, the Russian brush piler, Boris Maksmopilenovitch.
(I turned on the camera’s date-time function by mistake!)
The Buckthorn Man surveyed the field just before the competition began.
While Andy experienced the thrill of victory, The Buckthorn Man suffered the agony of defeat. All week long in training The Buckthorn Man set new records for slashing and burning in his signature ChainsawStyle event. He was notably loose; joking with teammates, and seemed to have put his failure to win gold at the 2010 Hartland Marsh Olympics behind him. But on the big day, he bolted upright at the 5:30am alarm and it was game on.
Unfortunately, and indeed, heartbreakingly, it was not The Buckthorn Man’s day. The hose on his Red Dragon Torch cracked and spewed propane gas preventing him from lighting it and starting a brush pile on fire. Then, without a heat source, he was unable to keep his poison sprayer from freezing up, despite the fact that it contained only anti-freeze and triclopyr. When we ran into The Buckthorn Man at the trailhead, he was inconsolable; refusing, or perhaps incapable, of answering any questions.
We located this transcription of a discussion of The Buckthorn Man’s disappointing performance between Bob Costas and Cris Collinsworth on the internet (no wonder it was not televised live!)
Costas: I’ll be frank with you Cris, I think it is highly suspicious that The Buckthorn Man’s Red Dragon torch failed just when he needed it the most. I suspect the Russkies and, given his background in the FSB, that Putin was behind it.
Collinsworth: Ahh Gee, I dunno Bob. The Cold War is over isn’t it?
Costas: Not so fast Cris. Do you really think those evil commies have given up their dream of overthrowing monopoly capitalism and replacing it with a socialist paradise?
Collinsworth: But Bob, according to Antony C. Sutton’s seminal work Wall Street and the Bolshevik Revolution, WE funded the Bolshevik revolution and helped Trotsky and Lenin win recognition for their fledgling revolutionary government.
Costas: That sounds like a bunch of conspiratorial drivel to me Cris. Why would Wall Street support the Bolshevik Revolution?
Collinsworth: Bob, have you never heard of the Hegelian Dialectic, you know, thesis/problem, antithesis/reaction, synthesis/solution? The problem for the monopoly capitalists was that the masses were beginning to recognize how badly they were being exploited and how the rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer. So the financial oligarchs in the west created the reaction in the form of the evil communist empire to scare the people into believing that their liberties and freedoms were being threatened. Since Wall Street, via it’s interlocking relationships with the central banking systems across the world, was controlling the finances of both the “West” and the “East”, their solution was to play one off against the other, thus keeping the military industrial security complex fed and causing both the U.S. and the USSR to go deeply in debt TO THEM.
Costas: That is total Bullshit Cris. Cut his mic! (Costas, storms off the sound stage.)
Although he might have been able through shear force of will to persevere and get some work done, The Buckthorn Man decided to take the day off, relax, and enjoy The Springs.
When I emerged into this view of the prairie, I was stopped in my tracks by how quiet it was. I’ve been so busy at The Springs — I haven’t taken as much time as I should to look and listen.
Here is the view from the Marl Pit bridge, where I stopped to listen to the river.
The view from the gaging station bridge.
The Indian Campground.
The Indian Spring channel.
The Scuppernong Spring.
The Hillside Springs.
The Hidden Spring.
This one doesn’t have a name. How about the Robin’s Spring?
I left The Springs early and bought a new Red Dragon torch on the way to the Hartland Marsh, where I picked up a load of seasoned buckthorn for the party this weekend and spent the rest of the day wandering.
If you are, or want to become, a SuperFriend♥ of The Springs, or you just love The Springs, or you just want to help the Buckthorn Man celebrate his birthday, then come to our open house in Milwaukee on February 16th from 2-8:00pm. If you have not already received an invite via email and want to come, please contact me! Pati is going to make some crazy good food and we’ll have beer and wine and a roaring buckthorn fire outside on the patio. We hope to see you on the 16th!
Most people don’t see the buckthorn that dominates the understory of our forests here in southeastern Wisconsin. They don’t see it spreading to fill wetlands and abandoned pastures or understand the impact it is having; it’s just another tree — it’s “natural”. But, like the protagonist John Nada (John Nothing) in the great science fiction thriller They Live, I do see the environmental damage that buckthorn is doing.
I hope Willie Dixon doesn’t turn over in his grave when I sing “I am the Buckthorn Man” to the melody of his blues classic Back Door Man. It still sends chills down my spine when I hear him sing and recall the great shows he performed at SummerFest with Sugar Blue on the harp.
This past Wednesday I was working in the Buckthorn Alley and two women, along with kids and dogs, paused as they walked by and one of them exclaimed, “you’re the buckthorn man!” Yes, “Iiiiiiii aaaammmm the Buckthorn Man!”
If you are, or want to become, a SuperFriend♥ of The Springs, or you just love The Springs, or you just want to help the Buckthorn Man celebrate his birthday, then come to our open house in Milwaukee on February 16th from 2-8:00pm. If you have not already received an invite via email and want to come, please contact me! Pati is going to make some crazy good food and we’ll have beer and wine and a roaring buckthorn fire outside on the patio. We hope to see you on the 16th!
I spent two excellent days this past week working at The Springs continuing my effort to open up views along the part of trail that I christened the Buckthorn Alley. The map below shows the progress made so far from the west (shown in black) and the east (shown in white) and the gap that remains. I roughly outlined wetland areas in blue that are filling in with brush (the Buckthorn Man will put a stop to that!)
This was the scene when I arrived on Wednesday morning.
I was gratified to see that Andy Buchta
had paid a visit and made 8 or so brush piles. Needless to say, this is hard work in the current conditions and I really appreciate Andy’s contribution.
I enjoyed a relaxing day and was not perturbed by any technical difficulties with the chainsaw. I experienced a curious, and seemingly contradictory mix of emotions, including deep calm and overflowing excitement. Here is how it looked at the end of the day.
Some classic perspectives of The Springs in the subdued early evening light.
Yesterday, Friday February 7th, I was back at it. It was a cold, bright sunny, morning and I stopped at the Hotel Springs to get some water.
I resumed where I left off on Wednesday and made a new fire in the same place as last time.
The views to the interior wetlands are beginning to open up! John, Sue and Tim stopped by to offer encouragement and John said they have seen 20+ robins playing in the springs just north of the Emerald Spring boardwalk. I had a fine day swinging the saw and got farther than expected.
Speaking of the Emerald Spring, some beautifully random organic patterns have emerged in the marl “dunes” at the river bottom.
Sunset at the Indian Campground.
See you at The Springs! And don’t forget the open house at our place on the 16th.
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy…”, that’s what George Gershwin said. Per the Natural Law Principle of Polarity, he might have added another line like: Wintertime, and the livin’ ain’t easy; although it may be true, it doesn’t ring with the same poetry. Hot and cold, easy versus hard, they’re simply polarities of temperature and effort. Or, consider the swing between the summer and winter seasons, or solstices, as an expression of the Natural Law Principle of Rhythm. At The Springs we adjust to Winter’s Rhythm by carefully relaxing, lowering expectations, and dressing warmly; then we carry on.
We had a window of opportunity last Saturday, January 4th, before the deep freeze arrived, to slash, pile and burn in the Buckthorn Alley. SuperFriends♥ Ben Johnson, his wife Karen and Pati joined me, softening the hardness of winter with their warm energy.
I visited the Hotel Spring when I arrived to get some fresh, clean, drinking water.
This was the scene in the Buckthorn Alley before we started.
We lit the brush pile in the foreground of the first picture above and had a nice fire to keep warm by. Karen and Pati split their time between piling brush and feeding brush into the fire. Ben was obviously more comfortable with the chainsaw and, I dare say, I think he had a lot more fun. He and Karen visited this spot on New Year’s day and they bushwhacked through the opening in the buckthorn that Zach and I cut and passed through three different cranberry bogs before emerging on the cut-off trail. It is encouraging to know that the area between the north section of the trail and the cut-off trail is not a solid mass of buckthorn. I’ll have to check this out myself!
Snow fell, heavily at times, while we worked and John and Sue Hrobar stopped by to say hello. Here is how it looked when we quit.
Afterwards, Pati and I had time to enjoy a walk and the views through the large flakes of steadily falling snow on the cut-off trail were enchanting. That’s John and Sue on the gaging station bridge below.
The Hillside Springs.
The Scuppernong Spring.
The Indian Spring.
Check the Volunteer page at this site for the workday schedule.
I didn’t sleep at all last night; I couldn’t stop my mind from trying to unravel the mystery that I had experienced. Pati always encourages me to tell my “Santa Story”, which I got from reading Astrotheology and Shamanism Christianity’s Pagan Roots by Jan Irvin and Andrew Rutajit, and that is a good place to start to describe my “trip”.
The Amanita Muscaria mushroom grows in northern climates under fir, aspen, or birch trees. Pati and I found huge patches of it on Grand Island in Lake Superior and I even found one at the Indian Spring. The shamans in northern Europe watched the reindeer and noticed how much they loved this mushroom. They saw that, even more than the mushroom, the reindeer loved the urine that they, or their mushroom loving brothers, relieved themselves of. The shamans experimented and came to understand the dramatic effects this mushroom could induce (especially when un-metabolized mucimol, excreted via urine, was consumed.)
In the spring, the shamans would enlist the help of children to identify where the white caps of the mushroom were pushing through the warming soil — kind of like an Easter egg hunt. As the mushroom develops it expands through the white cap under which it was born leaving the characteristic snow fleck pattern that remains on the surface of the bright red or sunburst colored mature mushrooms.
When they were ready, the shaman harvested the mushrooms and hung them on the bows of pine trees to dry them in the short summer sun — like Christmas ornaments. As winter set in, and the entrances to the yurts the people lived in became blocked by snow, the only way to enter was through the smoke hole, or chimney. The shaman would travel from yurt to yurt carrying a sack of Amanita Muscaria mushrooms on his back. As he delivered his gifts, he recommended that they hang them over their fireplace mantels to finish drying them out — like you would a wet pair of stockings.
Over the period of the winter solstice many of the people would consume the mushrooms under the guidance of the shaman and travel in time and space experiencing their consciousness in remarkable ways. When thoroughly intoxicated with muscimol, the active ingredient in the Amanita Muscaria mushroom, the person would “leave” their physical body and experience their consciousness in pure spirit form. This was valued as it informed their reasons for living and prepared them for their own deaths.
The Shaman Santa Claus.
That story resonated with me deeply and I knew I had to experience it. I found an excellent source for the mushrooms and tried to brew them in a tea, which I had heard was the way to go. It might be for some, but I was not ready for the experience; I was still drinking way too much whiskey and smoking cigarettes. The first time I tried them, I was camped at the Hartland Marsh and spent the night shivering in my sweat drenched sleeping bag. I understood then that I need to detoxify my body and my mind if I hoped to commune with A. Muscaria. That was back in the fall of 2009 and I tried two more times in the interval and could not break through. My bout with a cancerous tumor in my neck in 2011 was the wake up call I needed to cleanse my mind and body.
Yes, I couldn’t sleep last night. I was still coming down from my ride with Santa the night before, and trying to recall the sequence of events as my consciousness left my body and I began to travel as a spirit through space and time, finally returning after a 16 hour “trip”. I began by chopping 4 ounces of mushrooms in the blender and preparing a mixture of apples, carrots, lemons, limes and oranges by pushing them through my juicer. I started Friday morning, December 27, at around 8:15am, with 3 heaping tablespoons of mushrooms mixed with enough of the juiced fruits and carrots to make it palatable, held my nose, and woofed it down. I ingested more “shrooms” approximately every hour, resting or doing gentle yoga asanas between each dose, until finally, around 2:30pm, after puking twice, drinking a cup and a half of urine, and consuming all of the shrooms, I departed this realm (Much of the muscimol, the physco-active ingredient in Amanita Muscaria, is not absorbed by the body in the first pass and leaves via the urine, hence the necessity to capture and drink it. Urine therapies go way back in the Vedic tradition.) But, just as I was leaving, I thought of those I love, especially Pati. I thought she might be at the bedside worried about me, and I reached out to her to say goodbye only to remember that she would not be back home for another week.
I traveled at a speed beyond comprehension and soon found myself in an infinitely vast space on the rim of what appeared to be a giant wheel that spanned the Universe. Perhaps it was an incarnation of the wheel of karma — the wheel that the Buddha often referred too — manifested from my subconscious. It is hard to describe “where” I was i.e. from what perspective I was on the wheel, but I could see it clearly extending in both directions. Via unspoken words I was offered the choice: did I want to return to life in a physical body or continue as spirit? I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Pati and I couldn’t just leave her like that, so the choice to return for me was easy.
I continued on and unexpectedly was given another choice; did I want to go to God? Yes! Yes! my spirit emphatically declared and I proceeded to somewhere above the wheel and as I approached what I thought was God, I heard the mournful lamentations of the spirits, “they’ve done it, they’ve blown up earth!”. I quickly passed by, or through, or rebounded past “God”, I don’t know which, but I was traveling fast and deeply into space and matter until I could see the atoms passing by. I distinctly remember becoming aware of the binary concept. And then I heard the click of off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on and suddenly, with what I assume was an “ON”, a big bang, and I began the journey back.
When I returned to the wheel I distinctly remember the voices of the spirits there contemplating if they, like roulette balls, should drop back into “the game”. They struggled with the gamble of their destiny in a physical manifestation. I noticed an incessant clicking sound which reminded me of the on, off, on, off, ON click or the sound of the balls ricocheting around the roulette wheel. I had made my choice and did not attempt to drop my ball in just anywhere, but I felt like I could still have changed my mind during that brief time on the rim of the wheel.
The next thing I became aware of on my headlong race back to the present moment was seeing an accident on a bridge over a river. I looked into the eyes of the lead horse, who was laying near the crumpled wreck of the wagon it was pulling, and I recalled Mark Twain’s characterization of life in 600AD as described in A Connecticut Yankee In King Aurthur’s Court, where he explained that if you were in a hurry, you would not hesitate to “kill the horses” to get where you wanted to go. And the horse explained to me that he couldn’t go on anymore, he was exhausted. “It wasn’t my fault”!
The bridge had caught fire and the people were dismantling the wreckage as I left the scene. The next thing I remember was a disembodied voice whispering to me “Sir Knight, Sir Knight…” and my conscious awareness returned to my body. I needed to relief my bladder, I checked the time and saw it was 5:20am, Saturday morning, but I knew I had not come all the way back. I laid down again and continued my journey and, amazingly, I saw the smiling face of Ben Johnson, who has been helping me recently at The Springs, and I knew I was back.
It took me a while to get going and my heart was set on being at The Springs. I walked from the parking lot on Hwy ZZ to the hotel spring to get some water, which I needed badly.
(I noticed upon review that I said I was on the east side of the cut-off trail at the beginning of the video. I was actually on the northeast side of the main loop trail that leads to the buckthorn alley.)
It was so good to see Jim Davee at the work site when I arrived. He listened to my tale and I felt like he did not judge me. In my haste to get to The Springs, I left my chainsaw chaps at home (they were hanging to dry in the basement) and when I expressed my fear of cutting without this protection, Jim immediately offered to go to Forest Headquarters and get a pair of chaps for me. His thoughtfulness almost reduced me to blubbering tears. He found Anne Korman, the Assistant Superintendent of the Southern Unit of the State Forest, and soon was on his way back with a pair of chaps. Thanks Jim and Anne!
Here is what the area looked like before we started working; me cutting and Jim piling.
As soon as I began working on the North side of the trail, where Ben Johnson left off, I realized that I had asked him to work in what was one of the worst tangled messes I had ever encountered; and it was his first time cutting buckthorn with a chainsaw! Sorry about that Ben.
Zach Kastern and I were trying to hook up at The Springs, and our schedules didn’t align exactly, but he made the effort to come out and arrived around 2:00pm. He asked where I wanted to focus and I suggested we try to carve a whole in the buckthorn in a southeasterly direction to reveal the old cranberry bog on the other side. That seemed like a good plan and we got after it.
This is a view looking toward the “Blue V” on the edge of the horizon that we oriented ourselves to as we carved out a channel.
We quit just before sunset and I was really looking forward to taking a tour with Zach. Jim went home to get some information about the Clover Valley spring, which is very near Rice Lake and the Whitewater Lake Recreation Area, and he arrived just in time to take a walk with us. We had a wonderful conversation as we traded ideas and information; it was memorable.
And remember… “He sees you when your sleeping, he knows when you’re awake…”
During the night the sun/son of God was born of a virgin. I pondered this as I arrived at The Springs on the last day of the winter solstice; Christmas. What would happen if the whole world shook itself free of the myth of the historical Jesus and recognized the ancient astrotheological origins of the symbols and characters portrayed in “The Christmas Story”?
I walked quickly to the gaging station bridge hoping to get some cool pictures of the fresh snow. Compare the photos below to the headline image for this site above. The river was crowded with buckthorn on that sunny morning and the fresh, wet, snow hung thickly on the branches.
I walked to the marl pit bridge and recalled the connections between the constellations Orion and Virgo and “The Christmas Story” that Jan Irvin and Andrew Rutajit explained in their fascinating book Astrotheology & Shamanism Christianity’s Pagan Roots (video here).
“The three wise men, or the three kings, are anthropomorphisms of the three stars of Orion’s Belt. Like the sun, Orion’s Belt also rises on the eastern horizon. In early December, Orion’s Belt will rise above the horizon approximately an hour after sunset. In mid-January, it will rise above the horizon approximately an hour before sunset. However, on Christmas Eve it will rise above the eastern horizon just after the sun sets. This occurs on the evening of December 24 to the morning of December 25. Symbolically, the three kings (Orions Belt) are following the star of “Bethlehem,” known as Sirius (also called Sithus by the Egyptians).
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star
O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to they Perfect Light
~ We Three Kings
The tale tells us that these kings traveled a great distance. This is because on this day, the three stars of Orion’s Belt begin their journey across the night sky immediately at twilight. When this alignment with Sirus occurs, it appears to point strait down at the earth as if it were pointing down to the place where the sun in the sky is about to rise. On this night, we know that God’s son, the sun in the sky, is about to be born. When this occurs it is Christmas morning. It is the dawning of God’s sun/son, the beginning of the (real) New Year, and the first day of the sun’s journey to the north.
During the summer months the belts of Orion and Sirius are turned up in the sky at a different angle and are often hidden by the daylight sun. Only one night of the year do they swing fully down and point directly at the earth in alignment with the sunrise while appearing on the horizon just after twilight.”
And what about the virgin birth, I thought while gazing from the marl pit bridge?
“The sun in the sky is born under the constellation of the virgin, Virgo, on December 25th. As a result, the sun deity is born of a virgin as well. As the Age of Pisces began, its opposite sign in the zodiac, Virgo the virgin, was on the western horizon. As we pointed out in chapter three, Horus was born of the virgin Isis-Meri on December 25th. Isis-Meri (Isis the Beloved) was the Egyptian name for the constellation of Virgo. Meri (Mary) also happens to be where words like marina and marine (references to the sea) come from, because cultures who watch the sun rise over the ocean witnessed God’s sun being born out of the ocean and walk on water.” Astrotheology & Shamanism Christianity’s Pagan Roots
Would love and compassion disappear from the earth if people knew the truth about the origins and Christianity? Check out Bet Emet Ministries for more interesting info: “Bet Emet’s Websites are intended to be a “Spiritual Pilgrimage” in ones study of “the Christ”; moving from the assumed Historical Jesus Christ to the Mystical Jesus Christ and finally to the Mythical Jesus Christ.”
I tucked this reverie in a back pocket in my mind and dragged a sled-full of gear down the Buckthorn Alley, where I planned to meet Ben Johnson (pictured by the fire below) and Jim Davee to cut and pile some buckthorn.
It is definitely more challenging to work in the winter snow, but we had a nice fire to warm up by and this area is too wet to work in any other time of the year.
I was happy with the results!
Ben and I talked about the work the DNR did on the scuppernong river, that I recently reported on, and we decided to take a look from the south side of the river.
From there we walked along the river’s edge all the way up to the “Big Spring”; that was a workout.
I hope the sun/son will be shining the next time I See you at The Springs.
Our reasons for dedication to the land vary like fingerprints. Perhaps it is inevitable, although we may think it’s a free will choice, and it may be the happy synchronization of love and career. In any case, I’m heartened by more deeply recognizing the commitment so many people have to nurturing the land.
Jared Urban, with the DNR’s Natural Heritage Conservation Bureau, helped me understand the challenges that they face to secure funding and the necessity for grant writing (and winning) to realize their goals. That prompted me to review the DEPARTMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES 2013-2015 BIENNIAL BUDGET PROPOSAL to get a better idea of where the money comes from and I became aware of the increasing dependence on the Conservation Fund, which now accounts for 42.8% of the total budget (see pages i and ii in the budget proposal document above). My respect and admiration for the people who work at the Wisconsin DNR is always increasing yet, I’m confounded by the contradiction I cannot resolve between this fact and my antipathy for government in general.
Recently, I’ve been getting consistently excellent help from volunteers like Dick Jenks, Andy Buctha and Ben Johnson and I’m learning a ton from their different perspectives. Dick just introduced me to the Southeastern Wisconsin Invasive Species Consortium. I had no Idea this well-organized and dedicated group existed and I hope to work with and learn from them as well. They recently awarded my spiritual father, Mike Fort, with their Sweat Equity Award.
So, it is with boundless joy that I look forward to every day I spend at The Springs, knowing that I’m not alone, and that by the continued efforts of so many people, we can make the restoration of our planet inevitable.
Yesterday, Dick, Andy, Ben and I piled freshly cut brush near the entrance to the buckthorn alley.
We tried to pile as much as we could before the snow fell and almost got it all.
Ben and I took an abbreviated walk around The Springs, as I had a date with my parents back in Milwaukee. I’ll bet it looks beautiful today with a fresh coat of 2-3″ of powder!
People I meet at The Springs often ask: “Where did IT come from?”, referring to the buckthorn that grows there in dense thickets. I go only halfway attempting to explain it’s origins and uses leaving off the underlying causes and powers that be.
“History is the life of nations and of humanity. To seize and put into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a single nation, appears impossible.” Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace Second Epilogue, Chapter 1
The reasons given for why buckthorn was imported leave unexplained the causes that put into motion the people who brought it here. In a recent post I claimed to have “been to the mountaintop“, and I just returned from a new and thrilling literary mountaintop, “War and Peace“, that has given me new insight as to why I get out of bed at 5:30am on a cold winter morning to cut buckthorn.
“As with astronomy the difficulty of recognizing the motion of the earth lay in abandoning the immediate sensation of the earth’s fixity and of the motion of the planets, so in history the difficulty of recognizing the subjection of personality to the laws of space, time, and cause lies in renouncing the direct feeling of the independence of one’s own personality. But as in astronomy the new view said: “It is true that we do not feel the movement of the earth, but by admitting its immobility we arrive at absurdity, while by admitting its motion (which we do not feel) we arrive at laws,” so also in history the new view says: “It is true that we are not conscious of our dependence, but by admitting our free will we arrive at absurdity, while by admitting our dependence on the external world, on time, and on cause, we arrive at laws.”
In the first case it was necessary to renounce the consciousness of an unreal immobility in space and to recognize a motion we did not feel; in the present case it is similarly necessary to renounce a freedom that does not exist, and to recognize a dependence of which we are not conscious.” Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, Second Epilogue, Chapter 12
I see now that it was inevitable that I should do battle against buckthorn. Growing up as the fifth of ten children I became acutely aware of the difference between justice and arbitrary will. From the war on drugs to the 9/11 wars, my perception of injustice inflamed me to impassioned protest; alas, to no avail. Thus the opportunity to fight the injustice of an oak woodland choked by that miscreant tree, has inevitably led me to direct my thwarted love for justice to fighting invasive species. And now I am hooked on the immediate, positive, feedback I get from destroying buckthorn. Yes, I’ve learned to love my servitude; I have no choice.
I was compelled by space, time and causes to cut buckthorn at The Springs this past Thursday and Friday (Dec. 5-6) and it seemed there was no choice but to cut at the buckthorn alley. Thus, driven by forces beyond reason and consciousness, we gassed up chainsaws and transformed a thicket (see the area marked in blue below).
Here is how it looked before Dick Jenks and I started cutting and Andy Buchta started piling.
And here is the view Wednesday after we quit.
As I tried to warm up in my truck, Ben Johnson arrived and we had a most agreeable time touring The Springs and dreaming out loud.
Colder weather was forecast for Friday so I stopped at REI on the way home to pick up some hand and foot warmers. Then, after a quick dinner of rice and beans, I went to the basement to clean the equipment and sharpen the chains; I had no choice.
Friday we were back at it again and Dick told me of his youth growing up on a dairy farm, giving a brief history of the demise of the family farm, which was inevitable. Dick didn’t need any hand warmers; he grew up on a farm.
The views below are: looking north towards the Ottawa Lake visitor center, looking east, and looking southeast down the buckthorn alley.
And after…
I was prepared for the cold and not surprised either by the beauty of the setting sun, moon, planets and stars.
Inevitably, during the winter I often have the place to myself, and I appreciate that.
Scuppernong Springs Nature Trail 