A O Way to go Ohio

It's been a while...

We were in the process of moving, if you will, backwards. From the sunniest, most temperate, gloriously epiphytic time of year in southwest Florida to the coldest, snowiest, most heinously-overcast time of year in Cowtown.

We moved to an historic neighborhood we'd always loved and we've been working hard updating a house that hasn't changed much since 1938. It's two doors down from the Olentangy River, which I was really excited about. I grew up canoeing, fishing, swimming and playing on the low head dams in the Olentangy. But when I walked the dogs down to the river I witnessed a sign stating, "avoid physical contact with water".












As I stood there watching my playground of yesteryear, The Pretenders began playing in my head.

I was stunned and amazed
My childhood memories
Slowly swirled past
Like the wind through the trees
A O way to go Ohio

On the other hand, I've had the opportunity to spend some time in Berne Township. It's been reassuring to find nothing has noticeably changed there. I missed the holler. I missed the smell of the hardwoods and the way they sway and creak in the breeze, the moss-encrusted sandstone, the old barn with the tin roof and the cabin built by my grandfather. We're fortunate to still be part of a large privately-owned wooded corridor. Private ownership is important in Ohio these days, especially if the neighbors even remotely entertain sustainability.

I suppose we knew long before Chrissie Hynde told us in 1982 that Ohio has always been governed by "a government that had no pride" and that still hasn't changed. ODNR, the bureaucracy that is supposed to be protecting and managing Ohio's public lands, is the bureaucracy issuing permits for drilling and hydraulic fracturing (fracking). Internal documents recently exposed Governor Kasich's PR plan to proactively open public lands to fracking while subverting opposition targets such as state representatives and grassroots organizations in what is now referred to as "Frackgate". ODNR drafted a communication plan to drill at Sunfish Creek State Forest, Barkamp State Park and Wolf Run State Park in unison with "Frackgate" policy. Coincidentally, OOGA's OOGEEP teamed up with Radio Disney for a "Rocking In Ohio" tour of schools to propagandize children. Due to public backlash, Radio Disney dropped out of the program before it ended.

A O way to go Ohio

Let's talk about mushrooms. I've spent hours over the past few weekends scouring Berne township for the renowned springtime treasure, morels, and I don't ever recall seeing ramps in such abundance. Ramps, or wild leaks, have recently become a craze in white linen restaurants (this hillbilly ain't no hipster, ok?). Due to such demand, they've been over harvested and many public lands have since banned the harvest of ramps.












The black morels have fruited (thanks for the hunting help Rich and Mike) and the yellow morels should be fruiting soon. I simmered these in their own juices for a few minuted before adding a little butter and garlic. Delicious!












The pink lady's slippers are getting ready to flower. I've always been fascinated by orchids and pink lady's slippers are an interesting species. They depend on a symbiotic relationship with a fungus in the Rhizoctonia genus. Threads from the fungus break open the seeds and pass along nutrients. In return, the orchid passes along nutrients to the fungus. I hope the flowers have opened by the time I return.












Until next time, remember to stand for what we stand on.

Happy trails...

Okaloacoochee Slough State Forest

I recently took a lengthy day hike at Okaloacoochee Slough State Forest (OK Slough because nobody can pronounce it). The 32,000+ acre state forest was largely acquired from the Atlantic Land Improvement Company (ALICO). This is the "strategic vision" of ALICO taken from their website:
- Monetize under-productive assets
- Land or easement sales
- Creative solutions to enhance or extract value
- Natural resource management and conservation (and propaganda)
- Mineral rights exploration
- Opportunistically invest in citrus groves to increase citrus production
- Plant groves on company land

Before reaching the west entrance to the park I drove by A Duda Labor Camp (that's a blog for another day) and Monsanto's Felda Field Research facility, more indications of the kind of park I was about to see. I don't believe in the concept of reclamation. It's like a car accident; a car can be fixed but it's never quite the same again. Or sometimes it's totaled.

According to the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, "The management objective for Okaloacoochee Slough State Forest is to provide multiple-use under the direction of the Florida Forest Circus." They also suggest that, "The Okaloacoochee Slough is one of the few places in south Florida in which the pre-Columbian landscape, north of the Everglades or Big Cypress National Preserve, can be observed." Who's the oxymoron that crafted that pre-Columbian multiple-use bullshit?

21,700 acres of OK Slough is claimed by the South Florida Water Management District, who made the purchase in 1997, to be "natural and undeveloped" for the past 70 years. That is the kind of honesty I expect to hear concerning our public lands. Their purchase of the land to help in the restoration of the natural flow of water in south Florida is undoubtedly one of the most important aspects of the forest.

OK Slough is, in essence, a drive-thru park. Boasting "over 40 miles of driving and hiking trails," it felt as if I spent more time driving around looking for a trailhead than actually hiking. I'm not being pessimistic, I'm just passionate about wild places. I firmly believe if one wants to experience nature, one should be required to get off of their lazy ass and out of their car.

Coming from the Appalachians, I haven't completely acclimated to the sloughs during the wet season. Everything is flooded, including the roads within the park.




And the trailheads




But I felt right at home when I witnessed this sign littered with gunshots. It's good to know that hillbillies aren't the only ones that shoot inanimate objects to cure the ills of boredom. Might I suggest however, that instead, they begin shooting the advertisements recently permitted on state greenways and trails? Pollo Tropical advertisements belong on the interstate, not public lands.




I found a small gator in this pond. I tried to get a picture but it proved to be faster.




This looked like a good place to spot a panther to me. I grabbed a bottle of water from my daypack and sat in the shade of a pine tree. The hunt for a panther sighting continues.




OK slough isn't all sawgrass prairie. This hammock for instance, is largely palmetto. There's a defined game trail here but due to recent rain I couldn't find any prints. If I had to guess, I'd say it's a hog trail.




There are also cypress sloughs which are a completely different landscape from the sawgrass prairies and scrubby hammocks. This oak for instance, is covered in orchids. bromeliads, and moss.




This, of course, is right about where my Lowa blew out. Those beloved boots have been all over Ohio, West Virginia, Arizona, Utah, and Florida. They've worked, they've played, and they've never let me down; until now. I hope they can be reclaimed.




Overall, OK Slough is an impressively diverse ecosystem. It appears to be mostly surrounded by ALICO land so hopefully more will be acquired in the future. But like anything the Forest Circus gets its hands on, albeit under state or federal control, the multi-use policy is always apparent. It doesn't mean they aren't wonderful and important places. They're like a car that's been to the body shop but the oil never gets changed. Get out there and enjoy them before their engines seize.

Happy trails!

Slough (slü, slaú, or slōh) Preserve

There is a slough preserve within walking distance of where I live. The preserve itself is of a decent size (2500 acres) for being located on the outskirts of the city but the trail system is disappointingly short. Nonetheless, the level of biodiversity within the preserve is acute and captivating. The preserve floor is a mere 13.8' above sea level. During the dry months of the winter the floor is layered in leaf litter. During the wet summer months the floor remains under a fluctuating level of water which slowly flows toward the southwest. If one finds a dry place to stand during the summer, it's also likely an ideal place for a water moccasin to coil up and rest.




A portion of the park is a mitigation area and was once overgrown with wax myrtle. The myrtle was eradicated, for the most part, and bald cypress and pond cypress (Taxodium distichum var. distichum and Taxodium distichum var. nutans) were planted in its place. Cypress, being deciduous during the winter and underwater during the summer, lends to it's uniqueness as a conifer.




The trailhead is located in a pine flatwoods community. It mostly contains bald cypress, pond cypress, Florida slash pine (Pinus elliiottii var densa), and slash pine (Pinus elliiottii var elliiottii), but longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) and pond pine (Pinus serotina) can occasionally be identified.


The trail continues into a hardwood transition community containing pop ash (Fraxinus caroliniana), American elm (Ulmus americana), swamp laurel oak (Quercus laurifolia), red maple (Acer rubrum), and other such species. There are an abundance of ferns growing from the floor and colorful epiphytes clinging to tree branches near the canopy.




The flag pond communities are perhaps one of my favorite areas within the preserve because of the abundance of wildlife. I'm far from a birder yet I've witnessed an eclectic assortment from common cardinals to pileated woodpeckers, roseate spoonbills, wood storks, ibises, great and snowy egrets, great and little blue herons, and the list goes on. There are several species of turtles, at least two of which will gladly snap fingers off of curious tourists. There are muskrats, which I have yet to see, and playful otters that are always a pleasure to observe. The rulers of the flag ponds however, and of the entire preserve during the wet season, are the alligators. There's one particular gator known as "Big Al" that's 12' in length and is often spotted lounging in the sunshine on the bank of the largest pond.




Some of the other visitors to the flag ponds include panthers, bobcats, black bears, white tailed deer, raccoons, and possums. Many nonnative species exist statewide as well as within the preserve such as nine-banded armadillos, coyotes, red foxes, and wild boars. Numerous other nonnative species exist in locally established populations within the county and potentially within the preserve such as squirrel monkeys, tokay geckos, green iguanas, Nile monitors, Burmese pythons, veiled chameleons, and entirely too many others to mention.


The cypress slough is another community within the preserve which includes a mix of hardwoods and conifers growing underwater and on dry hammocks. Pond apples (Annona glabra), a tropical tree in the Annonaceae or custard apple family, can be found in this area. I have yet to try a pond apple but they are said to taste similar to honeydew melon. They're also known as "gator apples" as alligators have been observed eating the fruit but they mostly provide meals for squirrels, raccoons, and turtles.




Although the preserve is far from maturity, it offers a glimpse of what South Florida was once like. It is an integral part of the scattered corridors leading to Estero Bay and an important refuge for local wildlife. It's fascinating to live near the preserve. The surrounding neighborhoods have their own small "preserves" which bring in wildlife from the main corridor. Our neighborhood has a substantial flag pond surrounded by pine flatwoods. The fishing is great but the invasive tilapia are impacting the native bass population. Wild boars (hawgs to the locals) are a common occurrence and I recently spotted a bobcat. Birds are numerous and our border collie, Leila, thoroughly enjoys chasing ibises out of the yard. Bald eagles are a common sight and there are many nests within the vicinity.

Some folks yearn to live on the water but I'm perfectly content living among the wildlife.


Happy trails...

Pete and re-Pete

Old George Bauman down in Berne Township always had a dog named Pete. He had Pete and when Pete passed away, he acquired re-Pete, followed by re-Pete. George lived through a relatively tough time. He spent his winters sipping whiskey and repairing jewelry by a wood burning stove in a single story addition to his two story whitewashed home. Unemployment was nearing an historic high and union membership was slightly lower than it is today. It was an exploitative time when companies had everything to gain and people had little to lose. But the circumstances didn't get old George down. He had everything he needed to get by; re-Pete, a warm fire, his old wool army coat, whiskey, and the ladies he courted who sometimes supplied him with baked goods.

Years prior just south of Berne Township, New Straightsville became the unofficial birthplace of the United Mine Workers. It was a typical company town in which the New Straightsville Mining Company owned the mines, the miners, the housing, and the overpriced company stores. Miners eventually began to "unionize" by meeting just outside of town in a recess cave known as Robinson's Cave. Following a cut in wages in 1884, the miners reached their breaking point. They filled coal cars with wood, doused them in kerosene, and set them aflame before pushing them into the mines. The burning coal cars ignited a coal seam which ended mining in New Straightsville and is still burning underground today.

Despite the general stigmatization of Appalachian folks, they are both brilliant and resilient. Due to the inaccessible topography of Appalachia, they have historically been overlooked and many folks like myself prefer it to remain that way. There is little industry outside of logging or mining, which have been largely exploitative to the people of Appalachia and their environment. Such brilliancy and resiliency however, quickly became apparent in the town of New Straightsville in the form of illicit liquor. Many of the previous miners began setting up stills in the abandoned mines, recess caves, and hollers around town. When prohibition was enacted in 1920, New Straightsville was well prepared. And by the early 1930's, New Straightsville moonshine was in demand from New York to California and even overseas. The town became known as the "The Wet Capitol of Ohio" and it remains wet today, if one knows where to look.

History always seems to re-Pete. Today Walmart is by far the largest private employer in the nation yet the average annual salary of a Walmart retail associate is merely $15,500. Many Walmart employees depend upon public assistance to make ends meet. Walmart unfortunately isn't the extent of the problem. The problem is simply greed, no different from the greed portrayed by the New Straightsville Mining Company so many years ago.

Florida is a right to work (for less) state. Lee County, where I currently reside, is a particularly exploitative county. The vast majority of employers offer between minimum wage ($7.67/ hour) and $8.00/ hour without benefits of any kind. Other "employers" solely offer "1099" contract positions despite the IRS laws regarding employer/ employee relationships and W2 employment. But unlike many other areas of the country and even the state, residents of Lee County (crickets chirping) seem to have been conditioned to such exploitation. Those who know me well are aware that I don't give a damn about money. I'd give up anything and everything materialistic for a lifetime of unspoiled wilderness, including the techno-crap I use to write this blog. I didn't relocate to richen my bank account, I relocated to richen my soul. I refuse however, to richen someone else's bank account for starving compensation when my time and effort could be spent accomplishing more worthwhile and lucrative tasks.

As Sen Hatch (R-UT) stated, "A lot of these people don't want to work unless they get really high paying jobs and they're not going to get them ever. So they just stay home and watch television." Hatch in this rare instance is partially correct. There are many unemployed people that would rather stay home and be poor than work for a starving wage so someone else can profit, yet still have to depend on public assistance to make ends meet. However, I have to disagree with the remainder of the statement. He can't convince me that the unemployed, especially in Appalachia, simply sit around and watch television all day. Survival is work. He also can't convince me that people will never have the opportunity to earn a living wage. History will inevitably re-Pete again. But until that time comes, "you better stay away from Copperhead Road."

Mystery Machine

When I think of the Mystery Machine, I picture a 1968 Chevy G10 loaded with teenage hippie-sleuths and a floppy-eared dog. But I've recently discovered that the Mystery Machine is actually my 2004 Volvo XC70 AWD wagon. Zoiks!

I love my wagon. With the back seat folded down it swallows camping and kayaking gear, leaving room for four kayaks on the roof rack. It has comfortable, heated leather seats which are a godsend after sleeping on the frozen ground. It has all wheel drive and has traversed unmaintained roads throughout the New River Gorge and Muskingum Valley. I've showed it considerable love over the years and it has showed me what a pain in the ass Swedish engineering is.

Volvo wagons are known for suspension issues so the broken front coil springs, ball joints, control arms, and tie rod ends all came as no surprise. The fuel pump is also a known issue and although Volvo extended the warranty on the fuel pump, mine died after the extended mileage. All of the ignition coils have been replaced, some more than once, but that's a diagnosable hiccup. The washer pump recently died and with 215,000 miles on the wagon, I don't feel like tearing apart the wheel well to access it. The half-empty water bottles laying on the floor work great for washing the windshield.

There is one additional known issue with early 2000 Volvos that seems to be unsolvable. For instance, yesterday I was on my way from Fort Myers to Sarasota (about an hour drive) for a job interview. I was driving about 80 MPH and rocking out to the XM Outlaw Country channel when the wagon suddenly shut down. I put it in neutral and turned on the hazards, which did not work. The power steering died, the brake booster died, the horn died, and the engine would not turn over. But Hank Jr was still whiskey bent and hell bound while I coasted to a stop at the end of the nearest exit.

There was no check engine light or warning message displayed on the dash. I opened the hood and peeled back the timing belt cover. It was still intact so I attempted to restart the engine. It turned over but still would not start. After several attempts at restarting, a "reduced engine performance" message displayed on the dash. "Well, no shit," I thought as I tried turning the engine over again. But similar to the previous two occurrences, it would not start.

The first time the mystery occurred, I was on my way home from a job interview in Tampa. I had the wagon towed to Bobby, a reputable mechanic in town. As soon as the car came off the tow truck, it started. Bobby ran a diagnostic scan and found nothing. The second time the mystery occurred, I was on my way to a family reunion in Berne Township when the wagon shut down just north of Valdosta, Georgia. It was the middle of the summer and I had my bluetick along with me. We spent several hours on the shoulder of I-75 in the blazing summer sun waiting for a tow truck. Again, as soon as the wagon was dropped off to a mechanic (Enos from Dukes of Hazzard's mechanic) it started right up. I had my OBD II scanner with me but with no check engine light triggered, no errors were stored. Enos' mechanic took it to a dealer in town and let it idle on the diagnostic computer for an hour and achieved no results. Enos' Volvo 850 wagon was in the lot. The mechanic told me Enos didn't have $3,000 for the repair so he was keeping it until Enos could afford to pick it up.

Yesterday it came as no surprise that the wagon started right up after it went for a ride on a tow truck. Once it finally started, the reduced engine performance message cleared and it ran normally, just like the previous occurrences. They say Harley Davidsons are like hound dogs because they like to ride in the back of a truck. I beg to differ. My Harley, which is older than the wagon, has never let me down (accept for a torn accelerator pump) and the wagon has stranded me on the interstate numerous times. I suppose it's finally time to consider a newer used problem to drive.

Trifolium Treachery

clo-ver: any of various plants of the genus Trifolium, of the legume family, having trifoliate leaves and dense flower heads.

I have fond memories of my grandmother's four-leaf clover collection in Berne Township. She was always active and spent considerable time working in the garden or simply taking a walk for pleasure. Whenever she found a four-leaf clover she would pick it and place it under the glass top on her dresser. She never found them by looking for them but rather, by chance.

Clover (shamrock) is said to have been used by Saint Patrick as a metaphorical representation of the Christian Trinity. However, the Oxford English Dictionary concludes that this was first recorded in 1726 and is likely false. It is also said that four-leaf clovers bring good luck, especially if found accidentally. According to legend, the first leaf represents faith, the second leaf represents hope, the third leaf represents love, and the fourth leaf represents luck.

Clovers can develop more than four leaves and the most ever recorded is 56 on a specimen found in Japan. However, this fact doesn't refute the luck of finding a four-leaf clover. It is estimated that the three-leaf to four-leaf ratio is 10,000 to 1. The five-leaf clover, also known as a rose clover, has an even greater ratio.

Somehow I acquired my grandmother's capability to find four-leaf clovers. Every summer in Ohio I would consistently find four-leaf and five-leaf clovers (Quadrifolium and Pentifolium perhaps?). It was always an accidental find. I'd be walking through the yard or working in the garden and just happen to see it. That is the best explanation I can give.

I've made two hypotheses regarding four-leaf clovers; they do not bring good luck and they do not exist in Southwest Florida. Sure, it might be lucky to find a four-leaf clover but in my experience, they bring about as much luck as taking a lava rock from Volcanoes National Park. I see a lot of clover in Florida. I see it out hiking or walking the dogs and there is certainly no shortage of clover in our lawn. Although I've yet to find a four-leaf clover in Florida, my luck has not changed.

Optical Phenomenon or Mythological Romanticism?

If you've spent time near the coast or on the water, you've likely heard about the optical phenomenon known as a "green flash" or "emerald flash". It is said to be witnessed just as the sun sinks below the horizon and is only visible for a brief moment. Here in Southwest Florida the green flash is common folklore (or is it lore?), even hosting a beachside restaurant with the same name.

The phenomenon is widely believed to be a Scottish legend. It is said that, "He who has been fortunate enough once to behold it is enabled to see closely into his own heart and to read the thoughts of others." The problem with the Scottish legend theory is that it was derived from Jules Verne's 1882 novel, Le Rayon-Vert. Verne describes the green flash as, "A green ray, but of a marvelous green, a green which no painter could ever obtain on his palette, a green of which nature, neither in the varied tints of vegetation nor in the shades of the most limpid seas could ever produce the like! If there is a green in paradise, it cannot be but of this shade, which most surely is the true green of Hope." Such legend is clearly derived more from French romanticism than Scotch whisky.

An old English proverb states, "Glimpse you ere the green ray, count the morrow a fine day." But I've witnessed a "red sky at night" followed by torrential rain upon many occasions. According to Pirates of the Caribbean, a green flash signifies a return of the soul from the land of the dead. Less romantic than Verne perhaps, yet seemingly a Hollywood conception.

There are many incorrect theories pertaining to green flashes. They are not a result of latitudinal restriction or sun shining through water as they can theoretically be witnessed anywhere. They are not an after-image as they can also be witnessed at sunrise. They have little dependence on the upper atmosphere and more reliance towards the layer of atmosphere between the astronomical horizon and apparent horizon. They are also not a result of air path length however, it does explain why flashes are most commonly seen as green rather than blue or violet.

So what is the cause of a green flash? It's quite simple really. They are an actual phenomenon supported by scientific data and not an illusion. They are mirages enhanced by astronomical refraction nearing optical infinity, which differs from terrestrial mirages. However, without mastering colorimetry, angular measurements, atmospheric refraction, molecular scattering, temperature gradients, and other such factors, I am unable to relay exactly why, where, when, and which distinctive type of green flash one may or may not witness.

I've had the pleasure of observing sunrises and sunsets from Pacific and Caribbean islands, high deserts and low deserts, mountains, hollows, lakes, rivers, and frequent sunsets at the local Gulf beach. I've witnessed solar eclipses, lunar eclipses, comets, and meteor showers, yet I still have not seen a green flash. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm denying the existence of the phenomenon. I've also never seen a jackelope or a skunk ape. What I do know however, is if you listen very carefully from the beach, you can hear the sun extinguish as it sinks into the ocean. Pssssssssssst...