As long as I'm blogging about the UP, I might as well add this bit of good news.
June has been a pretty good month for those concerned with the health of trout rivers. Last week, a federal magistrate rejected Savoy Energy's plan to drill for natural gas near the Mason Tract. Yesterday, the Michigan Department of Environmental Quality sent a letter to Kennecott Minerals stating that the company would need to supply additional informaton about nearly 100 different concerns before it could issue a preliminary reccomendation on Kennecott's proposed mine along the Salmon Trout River. While this is by no means a death blow to the application (and is a fairly routine development in these kinds of proceedings), it does indicate that the state is reviewing the application carefully, and that concerns about the application raised by different environmental groups and individuals (including ye humble blogger) are being taken into account.
Additionally, different stakeholders from the area around the proposed mine appealed a previously denied request for a formal hearing on the completeness of Kennecott's application before a Lansing court yesterday. If a state judge grants their request, consideration of the permit would have to cease at least until after the hearing took place.
The Marquette Mining Journal has complete coverage of these developments.
Tags: Fishing; Conservation; Upper Peninsula;
Friday, June 30, 2006
I Saw the Light, Pt. 3
It's just this: whatever is out there doesn't look like a headlight. The light is too large to be from headlight in the far distance. A headlight close enough to appear that large would be brighter. And it doesn't move.
Perhaps there are influences that amplify or distort headlights to create what we see as the Paulding light. Maybe electromagnetism from the powerlines or some other factor (ecto-plasmic mists?) alters light in a way that makes its source appear nearer than it is. Or, possibly, the viewing site is aligned with the open spot on the highway in such a unique way that lights of cars approaching or leaving it appear to hover in place for a period of time. If the last of these is the case, then the light is still a wonder of sorts, albeit a human-made rather than a supernatural one.
The longer I spent at the viewing site, the less wonder-ful the experience became. Cars came and went continuously, their lights scouring the woods and, sometimes, the viewers' eyes. Music from car radios and the crunch of tires on gravel contrasted unpleasantly with the quiet of the river I had come from. I had seen what I came to see, so a little before midnight, I went back to my car and began the twenty-odd mile drive back to Kenton. As I cruised north on US 45, it was pleasant to think that my own receding tail lights were adding a touch of mystery to someone else's vacation.
Tags: Michigan; Michigan Oddities; Upper Peninsula; Paranormal
Perhaps there are influences that amplify or distort headlights to create what we see as the Paulding light. Maybe electromagnetism from the powerlines or some other factor (ecto-plasmic mists?) alters light in a way that makes its source appear nearer than it is. Or, possibly, the viewing site is aligned with the open spot on the highway in such a unique way that lights of cars approaching or leaving it appear to hover in place for a period of time. If the last of these is the case, then the light is still a wonder of sorts, albeit a human-made rather than a supernatural one.
The longer I spent at the viewing site, the less wonder-ful the experience became. Cars came and went continuously, their lights scouring the woods and, sometimes, the viewers' eyes. Music from car radios and the crunch of tires on gravel contrasted unpleasantly with the quiet of the river I had come from. I had seen what I came to see, so a little before midnight, I went back to my car and began the twenty-odd mile drive back to Kenton. As I cruised north on US 45, it was pleasant to think that my own receding tail lights were adding a touch of mystery to someone else's vacation.
Tags: Michigan; Michigan Oddities; Upper Peninsula; Paranormal
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Fish Cam, Redux
Hate to interrupt the gripping narrative of my plunge into the realm of the unexplained, but I just got a reminder that the Lake Superior State fish cam is now in place in the St. Mary's river, monitoring summer fish runs. See for yourself
There is a feature at the site allowing you to snap stills of the fish (which I used for the images here), though there seems to be a bit of delay between the click and the capture. The photo you get isn't always the one you thought you took.
I was surprised at how many fish had lamphreys on them, like this guy:
Or the fish at the right and the lower left here:
One more victim:
I wouldn't have guessed the problem was that widespread.
Some disturbing images here, but many fascinating ones as well. Visit often.
Tags: Fishing; Fish; Nature
I Saw the Light, Pt. 2
To date, these questions remain unanswered. In the 1970s, Ripley's Believe It or Not offered a $100,000 reward for anyone who could determine the source of the light, but the reward went unclaimed. Today we are left with a number of competing yet unproven explanations.
Some, not surprisingly, are supernatural. The principal one is that the light comes from a lantern carried by a the ghost of a railroad brakeman killed on the job, sending a warning to the living. This one is mentioned on the Forest Service sign, and is the motif of the T-shirt I bought at a store near Bond Falls.
If this is the case, though, you have to wonder what he's warning us about. As far as I can tell, no railroad operates in the area today. And if there was some real danger around, wouldn't he want to send the warning from a less obscure place, say from somewhere in town, or along a highway?
Such considerations have not deterred investigations of the site by a number amateur ghost hunters. One group, after a thorough inspection of the area, found several electromagnetic anomalies, but no clear evidence of a active spiritual vortex there. However, on a subsequent visit, members of the same group found "brief light orbs.. in the tree line along both the right and left sides of the observation point," including "an orb in the upper right looking somewhat like a face." Additionally, "a shadowy human figure was sighted on an investigator's left side at 1:21 am.," and two different photographs revealed "an ecto-plasmic mist." The group may have received a warning from the undead to back off: "When the camera was attempted to be turned on the primary battery (the one that carries out main camera functions) failed. Leaving the area briefly and going back resulted in the failure of the secondary battery (1:32-1:40 am).... Upon meeting up with fellow investigators back on the north side we learned that the two that had stayed on the north-side in the same location of the sighting, had experienced the same failure to their photo camera, as well as a 1/2 drop in battery in the video camera."
I remembered that incident when I uploaded the photo of the shirt. It is actually faded green in color with a blue and white logo. Yet the photo of it came out black and white...spoooooky!
Camera problems aside, I'm not one to put much stock in ghost stories. So far, though, the naturalistic explanations offered for the light don't amount to much more than speculation. Some say it's caused by radioactive gases seeping from the ground; others have claimed it is due to some refraction of light off of Lake Superior, or from some emission from the powerline at the viewing site. As of yet, no one has confirmed these theories. While I found that researchers from a couple of nearby universities had visited the site, I was unable to find any results of their investigations. If they had cracked the riddle of the light, you'd think the news would have spread.
One explanation I find plausible, even likely, is that the lights come from passing cars on the nearby highway . Their color is that of auto headlights and taillights (although, as noted in part one, some have observed them in shades of blue and green). US 45 parallels the road to the viewing point. Locals claim that the light was seen long before cars were in existence, but the first recorded sighting of the lights was in 1966.
Perhaps auto lights become visible at some point where the road reaches an elevated open spot--the country around there is quite hilly. Another ghost hunter claims to have proven just that during a 1986 trip to Paulding, though for me, his study actually casts doubt on the headlight hypothesis. He states that he measured the duration of the light's appearances against the time it would take cars travelling 55 MPH to pass a certain exposed point along the highway, as seen from a site other that the light-viewing area. They correlated almost exactly. While I have no doubt he saw the lights of passing cars, I'm not sure he saw the same light that appears over the designated viewing area. He writes that the average time of the light's appearance--and the time during which he saw the headlights---was 90.2 seconds. The light is visible for much longer than that. Overall, I get the sense that the study arrived at a particular result because it was the one the researcher wanted to find. Maybe it's time to replicate the study, since it's possible that the opening along the road has increased in size over the last twenty years. Even if it has, however (and it would have to have increased enormously), I do have a lingering doubt about the headlight theory. (To Be Continued)
Some, not surprisingly, are supernatural. The principal one is that the light comes from a lantern carried by a the ghost of a railroad brakeman killed on the job, sending a warning to the living. This one is mentioned on the Forest Service sign, and is the motif of the T-shirt I bought at a store near Bond Falls.
If this is the case, though, you have to wonder what he's warning us about. As far as I can tell, no railroad operates in the area today. And if there was some real danger around, wouldn't he want to send the warning from a less obscure place, say from somewhere in town, or along a highway?
Such considerations have not deterred investigations of the site by a number amateur ghost hunters. One group, after a thorough inspection of the area, found several electromagnetic anomalies, but no clear evidence of a active spiritual vortex there. However, on a subsequent visit, members of the same group found "brief light orbs.. in the tree line along both the right and left sides of the observation point," including "an orb in the upper right looking somewhat like a face." Additionally, "a shadowy human figure was sighted on an investigator's left side at 1:21 am.," and two different photographs revealed "an ecto-plasmic mist." The group may have received a warning from the undead to back off: "When the camera was attempted to be turned on the primary battery (the one that carries out main camera functions) failed. Leaving the area briefly and going back resulted in the failure of the secondary battery (1:32-1:40 am).... Upon meeting up with fellow investigators back on the north side we learned that the two that had stayed on the north-side in the same location of the sighting, had experienced the same failure to their photo camera, as well as a 1/2 drop in battery in the video camera."
I remembered that incident when I uploaded the photo of the shirt. It is actually faded green in color with a blue and white logo. Yet the photo of it came out black and white...spoooooky!
Camera problems aside, I'm not one to put much stock in ghost stories. So far, though, the naturalistic explanations offered for the light don't amount to much more than speculation. Some say it's caused by radioactive gases seeping from the ground; others have claimed it is due to some refraction of light off of Lake Superior, or from some emission from the powerline at the viewing site. As of yet, no one has confirmed these theories. While I found that researchers from a couple of nearby universities had visited the site, I was unable to find any results of their investigations. If they had cracked the riddle of the light, you'd think the news would have spread.
One explanation I find plausible, even likely, is that the lights come from passing cars on the nearby highway . Their color is that of auto headlights and taillights (although, as noted in part one, some have observed them in shades of blue and green). US 45 parallels the road to the viewing point. Locals claim that the light was seen long before cars were in existence, but the first recorded sighting of the lights was in 1966.
Perhaps auto lights become visible at some point where the road reaches an elevated open spot--the country around there is quite hilly. Another ghost hunter claims to have proven just that during a 1986 trip to Paulding, though for me, his study actually casts doubt on the headlight hypothesis. He states that he measured the duration of the light's appearances against the time it would take cars travelling 55 MPH to pass a certain exposed point along the highway, as seen from a site other that the light-viewing area. They correlated almost exactly. While I have no doubt he saw the lights of passing cars, I'm not sure he saw the same light that appears over the designated viewing area. He writes that the average time of the light's appearance--and the time during which he saw the headlights---was 90.2 seconds. The light is visible for much longer than that. Overall, I get the sense that the study arrived at a particular result because it was the one the researcher wanted to find. Maybe it's time to replicate the study, since it's possible that the opening along the road has increased in size over the last twenty years. Even if it has, however (and it would have to have increased enormously), I do have a lingering doubt about the headlight theory. (To Be Continued)
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
I Saw the Light, Pt. 1
At dusk, cars rumble to a stop at the end of a dirt road in Northern Michigan. The occupants step out and look to the skies. This scene could initiate an evening of Hex fishing, a college astronomy club outing, or perhaps just a backwoods beer bash. But it's also a routine played out nightly at the site of the Upper Peninsula's #1 paranormal tourist attraction, the Paulding Light.
The Paulding Light appears nightly along a power line right-of-way off Robins Pond road, just south of the town of Paulding in Ontonogan county. It is a bright light resting low in the sky, coming and going throughout the night. Sometimes it appears as a very strong white disc of light, at others as a smaller, dimmer red point. Some witnesses claim it also takes on blue and green shades. Local chambers of commerce provide directions to the viewing spot, and the Forest Service lets tourists know when they've arrived.
Paulding is not too far from where I made my UP fishing excursion a couple of weeks ago, so I decided to check out the phenomenon for myself. I drove to the viewing site on my way home from fishing at Burned Dam, pulling in around 11:00. At least fifteen cars were already there. A crowd had gathered behind the guardrail at the road ending, but I stayed in my car for a while, not in the mood for mingling with a throng of strangers. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much except going back to my motel and getting some sleep. I was on the verge of scrapping my X-file outing when a bright light appeared in the near distance beyond the road end. It took a moment to realize that was it--I had been expecting something more dramatic. But once I knew it, I got out and joined the crowd of viewers. Here is a link to a page with a video clip of the light, which captures the phenomenon pretty much as I saw it.
While we watched, people didn't seem too enthralled. They talked, smoked, bickered about one thing or another, listened to Ipods. They tried to take pictures of the light with cell phones. Children cried and were told to hush. Some viewers were disappointed, and said as much. Some left, and others came to replace them.
After about five minutes or so, the light vanished. I stayed out hoping to see it one more time. A bit later the light returned, this time as the small red point. It lasted around ten minutes. Some say that occasionally, the light will move, but that night it remained stationary, never getting brighter or dimmer. While the red light was out, I did see a smaller white light moving toward the viewing area--this was the flashlight a group of people had used when they hiked down the right of way to investigate the light's source. With great excitement, they announced, "There's nothing down there!" This proclamation drew little reaction.
I wasn't that amazed by the light myself. But if it seldom provokes awe, it certainly invites curiosity. While I watched the light, and long after I left the viewing site, I wondered as many others have about what the light is, and what causes it. (To be Continued)
Tags: Michigan; Mysteries
The Paulding Light appears nightly along a power line right-of-way off Robins Pond road, just south of the town of Paulding in Ontonogan county. It is a bright light resting low in the sky, coming and going throughout the night. Sometimes it appears as a very strong white disc of light, at others as a smaller, dimmer red point. Some witnesses claim it also takes on blue and green shades. Local chambers of commerce provide directions to the viewing spot, and the Forest Service lets tourists know when they've arrived.
Paulding is not too far from where I made my UP fishing excursion a couple of weeks ago, so I decided to check out the phenomenon for myself. I drove to the viewing site on my way home from fishing at Burned Dam, pulling in around 11:00. At least fifteen cars were already there. A crowd had gathered behind the guardrail at the road ending, but I stayed in my car for a while, not in the mood for mingling with a throng of strangers. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much except going back to my motel and getting some sleep. I was on the verge of scrapping my X-file outing when a bright light appeared in the near distance beyond the road end. It took a moment to realize that was it--I had been expecting something more dramatic. But once I knew it, I got out and joined the crowd of viewers. Here is a link to a page with a video clip of the light, which captures the phenomenon pretty much as I saw it.
While we watched, people didn't seem too enthralled. They talked, smoked, bickered about one thing or another, listened to Ipods. They tried to take pictures of the light with cell phones. Children cried and were told to hush. Some viewers were disappointed, and said as much. Some left, and others came to replace them.
After about five minutes or so, the light vanished. I stayed out hoping to see it one more time. A bit later the light returned, this time as the small red point. It lasted around ten minutes. Some say that occasionally, the light will move, but that night it remained stationary, never getting brighter or dimmer. While the red light was out, I did see a smaller white light moving toward the viewing area--this was the flashlight a group of people had used when they hiked down the right of way to investigate the light's source. With great excitement, they announced, "There's nothing down there!" This proclamation drew little reaction.
I wasn't that amazed by the light myself. But if it seldom provokes awe, it certainly invites curiosity. While I watched the light, and long after I left the viewing site, I wondered as many others have about what the light is, and what causes it. (To be Continued)
Tags: Michigan; Mysteries
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
The Plastered Pelican
Fishermen have been known to tip a few (I'm told), but I didn't know this habit crossed species lines. A story is making the rounds of a pelican who was operating while impaired on a Southern California highway. From Yahoo News:
The driver was sober. The bird he hit may have been under the influence. A California brown pelican flew through the windshield of a motorist on the Pacific Coast Highway in Orange County Thursday, and wildlife officials said the bird was probably intoxicated by a chemical in the water.
A few hours earlier, some beachgoers had seen her in a dive.
Though toxicology tests take several weeks, the odd bird behavior was likely the result of poisoning from domoic acid, which has been found in the ocean in the area, said Lisa Birkle, assistant wildlife director at the Wetlands and Wildlife Care Center in Huntington Beach.
Birds can be poisoned through eating algae tainted by the acid.
The driver was not hurt. The pelican needed surgery for a broken foot, and also had a gash on its pouch.
"She's hanging in there," Birkle said.
Her convalescence will give her the opportunity to reflect the consequences of her actions. However, she could just offer the convenient excuse that "All the birds are doing it!"
The Wetlands and Wildlife Care Center has received 16 calls of strange bird behavior in the past week, and was holding three other birds found disoriented and wandering through yards and in streets.
Has anyone posted bail for them?
It's hard enough trying to save birds from pollution and habitat destruction. Now we have to save them from themselves.
Of course, every generation has struggled with these problems.
Domoic acid poisoning was the most likely cause of a 1961 invasion of thousands of frantic seabirds in Northern California that inspired Alfred Hitchcock's film "The Birds."
Those birds flew into buildings and pecked several humans..
Perhaps there's a movie in this, too, something along the lines of an Afterschool Special. It should be screened in every nest.
Tags: Birds; Nature
The driver was sober. The bird he hit may have been under the influence. A California brown pelican flew through the windshield of a motorist on the Pacific Coast Highway in Orange County Thursday, and wildlife officials said the bird was probably intoxicated by a chemical in the water.
A few hours earlier, some beachgoers had seen her in a dive.
Though toxicology tests take several weeks, the odd bird behavior was likely the result of poisoning from domoic acid, which has been found in the ocean in the area, said Lisa Birkle, assistant wildlife director at the Wetlands and Wildlife Care Center in Huntington Beach.
Birds can be poisoned through eating algae tainted by the acid.
The driver was not hurt. The pelican needed surgery for a broken foot, and also had a gash on its pouch.
"She's hanging in there," Birkle said.
Her convalescence will give her the opportunity to reflect the consequences of her actions. However, she could just offer the convenient excuse that "All the birds are doing it!"
The Wetlands and Wildlife Care Center has received 16 calls of strange bird behavior in the past week, and was holding three other birds found disoriented and wandering through yards and in streets.
Has anyone posted bail for them?
It's hard enough trying to save birds from pollution and habitat destruction. Now we have to save them from themselves.
Of course, every generation has struggled with these problems.
Domoic acid poisoning was the most likely cause of a 1961 invasion of thousands of frantic seabirds in Northern California that inspired Alfred Hitchcock's film "The Birds."
Those birds flew into buildings and pecked several humans..
Perhaps there's a movie in this, too, something along the lines of an Afterschool Special. It should be screened in every nest.
Tags: Birds; Nature
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Teach The Children Well (or Close Up Shop)
Jack Lessenberry is a veteran Michigan journalist and political commentator who has a daily commentary on the local NPR station. I usually like hearing him, as he's an insightful and independent thinker--he's expanded my perspective on things any number of times. I especially liked his piece yesterday. A few excerpts:
A few months ago, Western Michigan University commissioned a survey to find out which states were doing the best at attracting high-tech and new-economy businesses--the businesses, that is, that Michigan needs if we are ever to have a future. You might assume the states with the lowest tax rates were doing the best.
But that would be dead wrong. The survey found that having an educated work force was the most important thing to tech-savvy entrepreneurs who are thinking about expanding their operations. Western hired EPIC-MRA to look at the business climate in five states, which ended up being ranked in this order: California, followed by Massachusetts, Illinois, Michigan and Ohio.
Which of those states have the highest business taxes? Massachusetts and California, by far. Do the entrepreneurs surveyed like paying higher taxes? Not very much. But they are willing to do so, because what they get back. An educated work force, and a decent infrastructure, both high-tech, as in fiber-optic cable, and lower-tech, as in bridges and roads which weren'’t collapsing.
Michigan ranked fourth, both in overall desirability and in having an educated work force.
This is discouraging, but not nearly so much as the finding that our businessmen were dead last in valuing a highly educated work force and understanding how important that is to our state'’s future. Only a third of our businessmen really get it, as opposed to twice that many in the leading states.
Full disclosure: I teach in a university and so have a personal stake in the health of higher ed. But the point here is that everyone else does too, not least business people, and those who might like to work for them. Besides, any new funding for universities is unlikely to flood into English departments.
Another study found that attitudes toward education aren't all that's putting Michigan at a competitive disadvantage. The Michigan Small Business Association recently published an Enteprenurial Scorecard which found, among other things, that Michigan's infrastructure ranked 42nd out of 50 states.
Lessenberry comes to the unpleasant, but I think unavoidable, conclusion that new tax revenues are required to fix these problems. In the state's current political climate, that idea is about as likely to fly as legalizing heroin. I'm not fond of paying taxes, but I don't know how else the state can fund universities (and scholarships), rebuild roads, and pursue other improvements (some stronger environmental and fish/wildlife enforcement would be nice, while we're at it). The old argument is that if you cut tax rates, businesses will grow, earning higher profits, putting more people to work and thus increasing tax revenues. But former Gov. John Engler cut taxes steadily during his twelve years in office, and we still are where we are. It's time for some new thinking about how we generate prosperity. We can start by jettisoning the notion that you can get something for nothing.
Tags: Education; Politics; Michigan
A few months ago, Western Michigan University commissioned a survey to find out which states were doing the best at attracting high-tech and new-economy businesses--the businesses, that is, that Michigan needs if we are ever to have a future. You might assume the states with the lowest tax rates were doing the best.
But that would be dead wrong. The survey found that having an educated work force was the most important thing to tech-savvy entrepreneurs who are thinking about expanding their operations. Western hired EPIC-MRA to look at the business climate in five states, which ended up being ranked in this order: California, followed by Massachusetts, Illinois, Michigan and Ohio.
Which of those states have the highest business taxes? Massachusetts and California, by far. Do the entrepreneurs surveyed like paying higher taxes? Not very much. But they are willing to do so, because what they get back. An educated work force, and a decent infrastructure, both high-tech, as in fiber-optic cable, and lower-tech, as in bridges and roads which weren'’t collapsing.
Michigan ranked fourth, both in overall desirability and in having an educated work force.
This is discouraging, but not nearly so much as the finding that our businessmen were dead last in valuing a highly educated work force and understanding how important that is to our state'’s future. Only a third of our businessmen really get it, as opposed to twice that many in the leading states.
Full disclosure: I teach in a university and so have a personal stake in the health of higher ed. But the point here is that everyone else does too, not least business people, and those who might like to work for them. Besides, any new funding for universities is unlikely to flood into English departments.
Another study found that attitudes toward education aren't all that's putting Michigan at a competitive disadvantage. The Michigan Small Business Association recently published an Enteprenurial Scorecard which found, among other things, that Michigan's infrastructure ranked 42nd out of 50 states.
Lessenberry comes to the unpleasant, but I think unavoidable, conclusion that new tax revenues are required to fix these problems. In the state's current political climate, that idea is about as likely to fly as legalizing heroin. I'm not fond of paying taxes, but I don't know how else the state can fund universities (and scholarships), rebuild roads, and pursue other improvements (some stronger environmental and fish/wildlife enforcement would be nice, while we're at it). The old argument is that if you cut tax rates, businesses will grow, earning higher profits, putting more people to work and thus increasing tax revenues. But former Gov. John Engler cut taxes steadily during his twelve years in office, and we still are where we are. It's time for some new thinking about how we generate prosperity. We can start by jettisoning the notion that you can get something for nothing.
Tags: Education; Politics; Michigan
Friday, June 23, 2006
Fish In Mind
This is the image on the card I received this morning from Ave Maria Gallery announcing an upcoming exhibition of Inuit art. My kind of stuff. While I like realistic, representational wildlife art, I'm more drawn to that which explores people's cultural, emotional, or spiritual connections to wildlife and nature, especially through more abstract, mythologial, or oneiric perspectives. These realtionships don't lend themselves to precise formulations, and I think Native American artists often explore them in interesting ways. Others who do are Michigan-based artist Lad Hanka, who I own a couple works by, and my friend Todd Marsee.
Ave Maria Gallery, contrary to likely impressions, does not specialize in religious art. I've been there a few times, and I'm not sure I've seen any. It is located in the Domino's Farms complex, which was built by former Domino's Pizza owner turned conservative Catholic activist Tom Monahagn. There are several Marian-themed operations there. Surpisingly enough, to me at least, AMG is a good place to look for fine nature and wildlife art. If I had more cash at my disposal, I think I'd be one of their best customers.
Tags: Fishing; Art
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Mason Tract Victory
The news has been making the rounds for a while, but it's worth repeating. Yesterday, a federal magistrate ruled that a Forest Service/BLM plan to allow exploratory drilling for natural gas in the Mason Tract along the South Branch of the Au Sable river did not include adequate provisions for protecting the environmental and recreational values of the area. He reccomended that the drilling not proceed, and that the agencies revise the drilling plan. The ruling still needs to be approved by a federal district court judge, but it's rare for these reccomendations to be overruled, and the judge who will consider the reccomendation has previously issued an injunction against drilling in the Mason Tract.
The Detroit News has a fuller account of the ruling, though I think the best version is at Rusty Gates's fishing report for this week.
Good news obviously, but there is an encouraging angle to this story beyond just the preservation of the Tract. In Rusty's story, he notes that among those celebrating the ruling was Marvin, my project partner with Sierra Club....Yes, huge news, but even greater news... he had fooled three fish rising... to eat his dry fly. He received his first fly rod as a gift from me last September. He's got the bug now.... a fisherman for life.
I watched Marvin receive that rod at last fall's Au Sable Cleanup. It's nice to see it getting use, but better to see hook-n-bullet conservation groups cooperating with what I call, for lack of a better term, the backpacker ones, those whose members are generally oriented toward lower-impact experiences in nature. I realize those divisions are not absolute--there is overlap between their membership lists--but too often these camps are divided by sensibilities when they should be natural allies. Fault for this division goes both ways, I think, but maybe this episode will open a few minds on each side, and foster more collaboration down the road.
There certainly are other examples of such collaboration: the Kennecot Eagle mine project, for instance, which I've written about. We need more. In the fight for wild and healthy lands, we need all the hands we can get, whether those hands cook only vegetables, or carry guns.
Tags:Tags: Conservation; Fly Fishing
The Detroit News has a fuller account of the ruling, though I think the best version is at Rusty Gates's fishing report for this week.
Good news obviously, but there is an encouraging angle to this story beyond just the preservation of the Tract. In Rusty's story, he notes that among those celebrating the ruling was Marvin, my project partner with Sierra Club....Yes, huge news, but even greater news... he had fooled three fish rising... to eat his dry fly. He received his first fly rod as a gift from me last September. He's got the bug now.... a fisherman for life.
I watched Marvin receive that rod at last fall's Au Sable Cleanup. It's nice to see it getting use, but better to see hook-n-bullet conservation groups cooperating with what I call, for lack of a better term, the backpacker ones, those whose members are generally oriented toward lower-impact experiences in nature. I realize those divisions are not absolute--there is overlap between their membership lists--but too often these camps are divided by sensibilities when they should be natural allies. Fault for this division goes both ways, I think, but maybe this episode will open a few minds on each side, and foster more collaboration down the road.
There certainly are other examples of such collaboration: the Kennecot Eagle mine project, for instance, which I've written about. We need more. In the fight for wild and healthy lands, we need all the hands we can get, whether those hands cook only vegetables, or carry guns.
Tags:Tags: Conservation; Fly Fishing
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Beyond the Bridge, Pt. 3
Most of last week, I started fishing in mid to late morning, took a break sometime in the afternoon, then resumed in early evening. I find that at this time of year, there ususally isn't much reason to hit the water early. But since my regimen wasn't producing well, I thought that on my last day there, I would rise early to strike at dawn, or sometime just after. Wouldn't you know that the night before the only day I planned to be on the water early, I was struck with a bout of insomnia, as I am periodically. Though I felt like canine excrement when the alarm went off, I still dragged myself out of bed and got to the river a little after 6. So far, so good. The problem came when I tried actually getting in the river.
On many U.P. rivers, access is limited and generally rustic. No log stairways leading down to the water, as you find on many popular streams in Lower Michigan, and usually, very few paths that slope gently to a clearing along the bank. This means you may have to walk a ways from an "access point" to find a spot where you can easily enter the water, where you're not gazing down at the water from a bank five feet above it, or blocked from the stream by a phalanx of timber. At the middle branch access point pictured in pt. 1, there is only one location to enter the water easily, which requires a walk of a couple hundred yards downstream from where your first encounter the river. There was some water upstream from the access point I wanted to work, preferably while moving downstream. Just up from the entry, I found a relatively open high bank that looked angled enough to walk down without much difficulty. I took a few steps down, then promptly lost my footing and fell on my backside, smashing my right elbow against a large stone on the way down. It couldn't have hurt more if someone had hammered it.
My first fear was that I'd broken my arm. But it moved normally, and nothing felt out of place. The pain actually subsided fairly quickly. I did have a couple of nasty scrapes on the elbow and forearm, but they weren't bleeding badly. I washed them with my water bottle and daubed them with some of my emergency toilet paper. My rod was intact (I broke one when I took a similar tumble along the Pere Marquette a few years ago), as was my wooden net, which I had landed smack on. Despite the lingering soreness and a little blood seepage, I decided to fish as planned. I didn't get so much as a tap, and after a couple of hours, I headed back to the motel to dress my wounds and finish breakfast.
I didn't rush back onto the river, and the condition of my right arm had nothing to do with. After the last couple of days, I had become pretty disillusioned about these rivers (although as commenter Matt reported below, there obviously is some good fishing there if you know how to go about it). The prospect of a long, hot afternoon on unproductive water was not in the least inviting. Perhaps instead of fishing, I could drive around the country a bit, exploring a few waterfalls and maybe scouting some grouse cover.
Then I remembered a small creek I had seen. Sometimes smaller, more obsure waters hold relatively unmolested trout that are ready to play when others aren't. This creek had looked open enough to fly fish when I'd seen it from the road. I had nothing to lose by trying it, so I ate an early lunch, and hit the road, eagerly in the hunt once again. I think that for anglers, there is no discouragement so heavy that it can't be lifted by the prospect of new water.
I took me a while to find an access point other than the highway bridge (if you're going off the beaten path, you might as well go all the way), but as soon as I got down to the creek I was certain I'd made a good choice. I saw feeding fish in the first pool I came to, in sight of my car, actually. Of course the place was so pretty that merely exploring it would be worth the trip.
Those unsophisticated small stream trout may not shy away from a fly, but a false step or any unnecessary disturbance of the water can put them down in a hurry. Maybe out of excitement, my first two casts were a bit clumsy, and I put the fish down. I was sure I would find more feeders, and moved on up, creeping and squatting to keep out of the trouts' sight. In the very next pool I saw another feeder and quickly took a 7" rainbow with a small adams. This was a sign of very good things to come. Whether risers were visible or not, practially every pool contained rainbows ready to jump on my fly. The result was the same with the adams, a royal wulff, a stimulator, and a blue wing olive, natural versions of which were hatching steadily by the end of the afternoon. I landed 8 'bows that were 10-11", which, by the standards of this trip, constituted nonstop trophy action. Here's a representative sample:
At one point in the afternoon, the sound of rushing water seemed to grow deeper. I waded around the next bend and saw this:
If I were very ambitious, I would have cut off my dry fly and tied on some streamer with a half pound or so of tungsten beads on the shank and plumbed the pool beneath this waterfall in search of a true bruiser. But I'd been spoiled with the eager little ones, so I just snapped the photo and worked my way back downstream.
The afternoon had raised my spirits considerably. I celebrated by partaking of the Friday fish fry at U.P. Chuck's in Kenton (a somewhat unfortunate name that does no justice to their cooking), then returning to the middle branch above Agate Falls to finish out my trip. Along the way, I stopped in the village of Trout Creek (the only place within 5 miles of my motel that had a payphone) to call Kristine. TC has always seemed like one of the better maintained and friendlier towns in that area. They reinforce this impression with this display at the turnoff from the highway into town.
How could I not daydream about settling there?
Well, maybe not after I remember the fishing on the Ontonogan. At dusk, the spinner flight was much lighter than it had been the previous nights, though the feeding was about the same--sparse. I took a 9" brookie at the first hole I worked. As I approached the next, I heard what sounded like a much better fish take a fly no more than about twelve feet to my left. I crouched down immediately, not wanting to spook him. I feared I might have, since I didn't hear him again during the fifteen or so casts I made over his lie--"casts" in this case being wrist flicks with a couple of feet of fly line out from my rod. Interesting that while fly fishermen aspire to make long graceful casts, actually catching fish, especially at this time of year, often comes down to a dap in the dark.
While I blew on my now sodden sulfur spinner and pondered my next move, the fish I'd been stalking fed again, so I immediately tossed the fly in his direction. This time there was no hesitation. He smacked it, though when I felt his resistance, I was disappointed. He didn't have any more weight to him than the 6 inchers I'd been overrun with much of the week. But sometimes a little fish can make a big splash. I hauled him in with mechanical strips of the line, but when he was about five feet away, he made an explosive splash and ran hard for the other side of the river. Not so little as he'd let on, he took all the loose line I had out and a bit more from my reel. The fight didn't go on long, but in the course of it, the fish must have danced over every square inch of that pool, wriggling, skittering, half in and half out of the water. In such instances, I wonder why brook trout don't get more respect as fighters. They don't leap like rainbows and they don't have the brute strength of browns, but for sheer spasticity they have no equal. They're little aquatic berserkers. This is as true in the hand as in the drink. After unhooking him I held him up for a photo (the fish measured 12" , not bad at all for a brookie ), but before I had the camera out, he flopped out of my grasp. This suggests a good reason, aside from companionship, to find a fishing partner--I need someone to snap pictures while I hold fish.
I heard a couple of isolated rises after that fish gave me the slip, but I couldn't pinpoint them. Figuring the fishing was unlikely to get better at this point, and wanting to rise early for tomorrow's trip home, I decided to pack it in. I was grateful for a relatively good day after the frustrations of Wednesday and Thursday. I was glad also to have finally had a few days of solid fishing time in an area I've enjoyed hiking in for several years. I'm sure I could have caught more fish much closer to home, but I would have regretted not having had a chance to fish there. When I think about the fishing I still want to do on this earth, I find myself thinking less about the fish, large or otherwise, I want to catch, and more about the places where I want to fish. As places to fish go, the Ontonogan system is trophy class.
Tags: Fishing; Fly Fishing
On many U.P. rivers, access is limited and generally rustic. No log stairways leading down to the water, as you find on many popular streams in Lower Michigan, and usually, very few paths that slope gently to a clearing along the bank. This means you may have to walk a ways from an "access point" to find a spot where you can easily enter the water, where you're not gazing down at the water from a bank five feet above it, or blocked from the stream by a phalanx of timber. At the middle branch access point pictured in pt. 1, there is only one location to enter the water easily, which requires a walk of a couple hundred yards downstream from where your first encounter the river. There was some water upstream from the access point I wanted to work, preferably while moving downstream. Just up from the entry, I found a relatively open high bank that looked angled enough to walk down without much difficulty. I took a few steps down, then promptly lost my footing and fell on my backside, smashing my right elbow against a large stone on the way down. It couldn't have hurt more if someone had hammered it.
My first fear was that I'd broken my arm. But it moved normally, and nothing felt out of place. The pain actually subsided fairly quickly. I did have a couple of nasty scrapes on the elbow and forearm, but they weren't bleeding badly. I washed them with my water bottle and daubed them with some of my emergency toilet paper. My rod was intact (I broke one when I took a similar tumble along the Pere Marquette a few years ago), as was my wooden net, which I had landed smack on. Despite the lingering soreness and a little blood seepage, I decided to fish as planned. I didn't get so much as a tap, and after a couple of hours, I headed back to the motel to dress my wounds and finish breakfast.
I didn't rush back onto the river, and the condition of my right arm had nothing to do with. After the last couple of days, I had become pretty disillusioned about these rivers (although as commenter Matt reported below, there obviously is some good fishing there if you know how to go about it). The prospect of a long, hot afternoon on unproductive water was not in the least inviting. Perhaps instead of fishing, I could drive around the country a bit, exploring a few waterfalls and maybe scouting some grouse cover.
Then I remembered a small creek I had seen. Sometimes smaller, more obsure waters hold relatively unmolested trout that are ready to play when others aren't. This creek had looked open enough to fly fish when I'd seen it from the road. I had nothing to lose by trying it, so I ate an early lunch, and hit the road, eagerly in the hunt once again. I think that for anglers, there is no discouragement so heavy that it can't be lifted by the prospect of new water.
I took me a while to find an access point other than the highway bridge (if you're going off the beaten path, you might as well go all the way), but as soon as I got down to the creek I was certain I'd made a good choice. I saw feeding fish in the first pool I came to, in sight of my car, actually. Of course the place was so pretty that merely exploring it would be worth the trip.
Those unsophisticated small stream trout may not shy away from a fly, but a false step or any unnecessary disturbance of the water can put them down in a hurry. Maybe out of excitement, my first two casts were a bit clumsy, and I put the fish down. I was sure I would find more feeders, and moved on up, creeping and squatting to keep out of the trouts' sight. In the very next pool I saw another feeder and quickly took a 7" rainbow with a small adams. This was a sign of very good things to come. Whether risers were visible or not, practially every pool contained rainbows ready to jump on my fly. The result was the same with the adams, a royal wulff, a stimulator, and a blue wing olive, natural versions of which were hatching steadily by the end of the afternoon. I landed 8 'bows that were 10-11", which, by the standards of this trip, constituted nonstop trophy action. Here's a representative sample:
At one point in the afternoon, the sound of rushing water seemed to grow deeper. I waded around the next bend and saw this:
If I were very ambitious, I would have cut off my dry fly and tied on some streamer with a half pound or so of tungsten beads on the shank and plumbed the pool beneath this waterfall in search of a true bruiser. But I'd been spoiled with the eager little ones, so I just snapped the photo and worked my way back downstream.
The afternoon had raised my spirits considerably. I celebrated by partaking of the Friday fish fry at U.P. Chuck's in Kenton (a somewhat unfortunate name that does no justice to their cooking), then returning to the middle branch above Agate Falls to finish out my trip. Along the way, I stopped in the village of Trout Creek (the only place within 5 miles of my motel that had a payphone) to call Kristine. TC has always seemed like one of the better maintained and friendlier towns in that area. They reinforce this impression with this display at the turnoff from the highway into town.
How could I not daydream about settling there?
Well, maybe not after I remember the fishing on the Ontonogan. At dusk, the spinner flight was much lighter than it had been the previous nights, though the feeding was about the same--sparse. I took a 9" brookie at the first hole I worked. As I approached the next, I heard what sounded like a much better fish take a fly no more than about twelve feet to my left. I crouched down immediately, not wanting to spook him. I feared I might have, since I didn't hear him again during the fifteen or so casts I made over his lie--"casts" in this case being wrist flicks with a couple of feet of fly line out from my rod. Interesting that while fly fishermen aspire to make long graceful casts, actually catching fish, especially at this time of year, often comes down to a dap in the dark.
While I blew on my now sodden sulfur spinner and pondered my next move, the fish I'd been stalking fed again, so I immediately tossed the fly in his direction. This time there was no hesitation. He smacked it, though when I felt his resistance, I was disappointed. He didn't have any more weight to him than the 6 inchers I'd been overrun with much of the week. But sometimes a little fish can make a big splash. I hauled him in with mechanical strips of the line, but when he was about five feet away, he made an explosive splash and ran hard for the other side of the river. Not so little as he'd let on, he took all the loose line I had out and a bit more from my reel. The fight didn't go on long, but in the course of it, the fish must have danced over every square inch of that pool, wriggling, skittering, half in and half out of the water. In such instances, I wonder why brook trout don't get more respect as fighters. They don't leap like rainbows and they don't have the brute strength of browns, but for sheer spasticity they have no equal. They're little aquatic berserkers. This is as true in the hand as in the drink. After unhooking him I held him up for a photo (the fish measured 12" , not bad at all for a brookie ), but before I had the camera out, he flopped out of my grasp. This suggests a good reason, aside from companionship, to find a fishing partner--I need someone to snap pictures while I hold fish.
I heard a couple of isolated rises after that fish gave me the slip, but I couldn't pinpoint them. Figuring the fishing was unlikely to get better at this point, and wanting to rise early for tomorrow's trip home, I decided to pack it in. I was grateful for a relatively good day after the frustrations of Wednesday and Thursday. I was glad also to have finally had a few days of solid fishing time in an area I've enjoyed hiking in for several years. I'm sure I could have caught more fish much closer to home, but I would have regretted not having had a chance to fish there. When I think about the fishing I still want to do on this earth, I find myself thinking less about the fish, large or otherwise, I want to catch, and more about the places where I want to fish. As places to fish go, the Ontonogan system is trophy class.
Tags: Fishing; Fly Fishing
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Beyond the Bridge, Pt. 2
Last Wednesday, I ventured a bit higher on the middle branch of the Ontonogan. I followed a deeply rutted two track up from where I had entered the river the night before expecting to find some pulloffs and trails to the river at some point. After some distance I found only a single spot along the road where I could (barely) park my car. The river was visible about fifteen feet away through a dense thicket of spruce and alder. I pushed through the brush to find a smooth, relatively open section of river. This was promising. I worked downstream with a wooly bugger and turned 3 fish that looked nice, actually hooking one for about 5 seconds. A few dinks came to hand along the way.
After about an hour down from where I entered, the quiet water began to gather speed, rushing around large rocks I thought should have sheltered some trout--maybe it sheltered them too well. Soon the current became too heavy to wade easily, though I kept moving down in hopes of getting back to smoother water. No luck. I finally turned around when the river appeared to be entering a rock-walled gorge. Not a deep one, but one that potentially offered no escape should the water become too deep, or the current too strong. The gorge began just beyond where the trees close in this photo.
Maybe I'm a bit too cautious. But that's not a bad fault to have when fishing alone in remote country.
On the way back up, I took three good brook trout on a small adams.
That evening, I drove upstream to Burned Dam near Watersmeet. The river there is a bit wider, and it looked fishy when I canoed the area several years ago. It still does look fishy, though it didn't fulfill its promise on my visit. Where I got in, I met a couple of other fishermen, who were looking for a few trout after a week of "pathetic" walleye fishing on Lake Gogebic. They went downstream, and I up. I managed two mediocre rainbows on a Cabin Coachman. Here's one.
Toward dusk, mayfly spinners began to fill the sky. I saw sulfurs, brown drakes, and I think some isonychias. One brown drake dun floated by me as well. Of course, not a single one of these spinners hit the water. Mayflies, I've noticed over the years, assert a corollary to the law of gravity: what goes up, as far as they are concerned, will come down when it's good and ready.
On the way home, I made a detour to view the Paulding Light. More on that in an entry to come.
Thursday, I entered the middle branch above the rest area off of highway 28 at Agate Falls, pausing to snap a few pictures of the waterfall itself.
This area (once you get upstream from the rest area and the falls) was also smoothly flowing with plenty of cover and gentle, nicely spaced riffles. I fished a number of different attractors, wet flies, and nymphs and caught two brook and one brown trout of about nine inches. Sulfur duns were drifting by periodically, but there was no surface feeding, and my sulfur patterns drew no interest. On the way out, I noticed that thimbleberries were coming into bloom.
I wish I could go back in four or five weeks to pick and eat a bunch.
Thursday night I returned to the same spot to see if I could catch an evening rise. I did, though I might have missed it if I'd let my mind wander. Sulfur spinners gathered just after 10:00, and by 10:15 I heard some decent feeders, though there were no bugs visible on the water. I hooked and lost two nice fish, then landed a 9" brook. After I released him, I heard no more feeding. It wasn't even 10:25.
It had been a tough couple of days of fishing. On Friday, my last day, things would start even worse, but wind up rather agreeably.
Tags: Fly Fishing; Fishing
After about an hour down from where I entered, the quiet water began to gather speed, rushing around large rocks I thought should have sheltered some trout--maybe it sheltered them too well. Soon the current became too heavy to wade easily, though I kept moving down in hopes of getting back to smoother water. No luck. I finally turned around when the river appeared to be entering a rock-walled gorge. Not a deep one, but one that potentially offered no escape should the water become too deep, or the current too strong. The gorge began just beyond where the trees close in this photo.
Maybe I'm a bit too cautious. But that's not a bad fault to have when fishing alone in remote country.
On the way back up, I took three good brook trout on a small adams.
That evening, I drove upstream to Burned Dam near Watersmeet. The river there is a bit wider, and it looked fishy when I canoed the area several years ago. It still does look fishy, though it didn't fulfill its promise on my visit. Where I got in, I met a couple of other fishermen, who were looking for a few trout after a week of "pathetic" walleye fishing on Lake Gogebic. They went downstream, and I up. I managed two mediocre rainbows on a Cabin Coachman. Here's one.
Toward dusk, mayfly spinners began to fill the sky. I saw sulfurs, brown drakes, and I think some isonychias. One brown drake dun floated by me as well. Of course, not a single one of these spinners hit the water. Mayflies, I've noticed over the years, assert a corollary to the law of gravity: what goes up, as far as they are concerned, will come down when it's good and ready.
On the way home, I made a detour to view the Paulding Light. More on that in an entry to come.
Thursday, I entered the middle branch above the rest area off of highway 28 at Agate Falls, pausing to snap a few pictures of the waterfall itself.
This area (once you get upstream from the rest area and the falls) was also smoothly flowing with plenty of cover and gentle, nicely spaced riffles. I fished a number of different attractors, wet flies, and nymphs and caught two brook and one brown trout of about nine inches. Sulfur duns were drifting by periodically, but there was no surface feeding, and my sulfur patterns drew no interest. On the way out, I noticed that thimbleberries were coming into bloom.
I wish I could go back in four or five weeks to pick and eat a bunch.
Thursday night I returned to the same spot to see if I could catch an evening rise. I did, though I might have missed it if I'd let my mind wander. Sulfur spinners gathered just after 10:00, and by 10:15 I heard some decent feeders, though there were no bugs visible on the water. I hooked and lost two nice fish, then landed a 9" brook. After I released him, I heard no more feeding. It wasn't even 10:25.
It had been a tough couple of days of fishing. On Friday, my last day, things would start even worse, but wind up rather agreeably.
Tags: Fly Fishing; Fishing
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Beyond the Bridge, Pt. 1
Ah, the U.P... You know the place, don't you? That subarctic wonderland of sweeping forests, craggy granite ridges, and creeks full of chunky brook trout that snap at any fly that comes their way?
I've actually found myself in that mythical UP of fisherman's dreams a few times, and I thought I was returning to it last Monday. But apparently I took a wrong turn somewhere along the way.
Monday a week ago I drove up to Kenton in Houghton county, smack in the middle of the brook trout waters of the Ontonogan River system. I spent the week prowling the middle and east branches of the Ontonogan, besides a small unsung creek. For the most part, the fish were not too cooperative. Fishing was generally slow, morning, noon, and night.
I arrived in time last Monday to get a good evening of fishing in at Sparrow Rapids on the East Branch. Much of the East Branch around Kenton (at least the parts you can acccess) is slow and troughlike. At Sparrow, site of a Forest Service campground, the river widens and rushes over a quarter mile of frothing riffles and stair-stepping falls interrupted by a couple of deep bend pools.
(A short fall near the head of Sparrow Rapids)
Though the bite was slow, I did manage to pick up a few nice rainbows (probably juvenile steelhead) by drifting caddis emergers along ledges bordering the deeper holes. At sunset, I saw some feeding in one of those quiet bend pools (just below the downed stump in the riffle below) and took another half-dozen rainbows on a tan dry caddis.
I returned there late the next morning, just as a light drizzle was settling in. Fishing stimulators with a hare's ear nymph dropper, I managed about 10 trout, mostly in the same spots as the night before. Early on the nymph got all the attention, though an hour in the fish were whacking the stimulator with gusto, despite no other visible surface feeding.
Sparrow is a nice location, though the Forest Service could do more to maintain the campground. Just look at these weeds growing between the cracks of a stairway.
I took most of the afternoon off and, after an early supper, went to the Middle Branch. I got on the water here.
This bend seems to be a dividing line. Below, the water is mostly quiet with a steady current, gentle riffles alternating with deep, wood-strewn pools. Classic trout water. Just above here begins a very long, roaring riffle. Just how long I don't know. I headed upstream (since I had some good luck in that stretch one day last summer) for nearly two hours and never saw an inch of flat water. Around every bend, nothing but another long climb through whitewater. Very hard wading, though I got 5 10-12" brookies for my trouble. A stimulator, the hare's ear, and caddis emergers got the fish. Here is one.
There were quite a few tan caddis on the water after about 8:00, and a large spinner flight of sulfurs occurred around dark, though none fell.
Not a bad start to the trip. Unfortunately, the going was about to get harder.
Tags: Fly Fishing; Fishing
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Meadow: Two Months In
It's been a little over two months since I got to work on my wildflower meadow for the season. I'm pretty pleased with the way it's going, though weed control is going to be an issue for a while. I must pull at least 3 bushels of crabgrass and other undesireables every week, and I still don't seem to be making much headway. But my flowers and native grasses are thriving. Here are a few pics.
This is daisy fleabane. It's been blooming for about three weeks now. This batch is on the wane, but I have several other plants with blooms about to open. Fleabane is quite widespread in my neighborhood to begin with. In years past, I used to mow over quite a bit that was trying to establish itself in my year. Now I welcome it.
Spiderwort came into bloom about a week and a half ago. Last year this plant had two small blooms, then nothing. It looks like I'll have flowers for quite a while to come this season. You can see one of my crude weed control measures in this one-an old piece of paneling with a chunk of wood to weigh it down. Where I have large unbroken swaths of weeds, I put one of these down. I've only done this in a few eligible spots, and will probably add more. It's not pretty, but I'm trying to avoid chemicals if at all possible.
Foxglove bloomed around the same time as the spiderwort.
I wasn't the only one happy about that.
I got a pleasant surprise last week when one of the columbines I planted this spring bloomed. I wasn't expecting flowers on those until next year.
The black eyed susans have looked like they were on the verge of opening for nearly a week. Today, the first one finally did.
Here's a larger view of one of the thicker parts of the garden. Nearly everything you see here that's over two inches high consists of native wildflowers and grasses.
I've got a few more years of work to get this really established. But in the meantime, I'll be reaping lots of blooming rewards.
Tag: Gardening
This is daisy fleabane. It's been blooming for about three weeks now. This batch is on the wane, but I have several other plants with blooms about to open. Fleabane is quite widespread in my neighborhood to begin with. In years past, I used to mow over quite a bit that was trying to establish itself in my year. Now I welcome it.
Spiderwort came into bloom about a week and a half ago. Last year this plant had two small blooms, then nothing. It looks like I'll have flowers for quite a while to come this season. You can see one of my crude weed control measures in this one-an old piece of paneling with a chunk of wood to weigh it down. Where I have large unbroken swaths of weeds, I put one of these down. I've only done this in a few eligible spots, and will probably add more. It's not pretty, but I'm trying to avoid chemicals if at all possible.
Foxglove bloomed around the same time as the spiderwort.
I wasn't the only one happy about that.
I got a pleasant surprise last week when one of the columbines I planted this spring bloomed. I wasn't expecting flowers on those until next year.
The black eyed susans have looked like they were on the verge of opening for nearly a week. Today, the first one finally did.
Here's a larger view of one of the thicker parts of the garden. Nearly everything you see here that's over two inches high consists of native wildflowers and grasses.
I've got a few more years of work to get this really established. But in the meantime, I'll be reaping lots of blooming rewards.
Tag: Gardening
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Good News from the Mountains
As the propeht Nahum said, "Behold upon the mountains the feet of him that bringeth good tidings..." Today, Yahoo News would be "him.":
GATLINBURG, Tenn. - The cold, clear water of LeConte Creek cascades over moss-covered boulders, lingers momentarily in small pools skirted by dense rhododendron, then rushes on through the hemlock, poplar, birch and maple forest. It's here and in a handful of other streams in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park that the brook trout — the only trout native to the eastern United States and more specifically to the southern Appalachians — is making a comeback.
Imperiled from Georgia to Maine by decades of pollution, poor land management and competition from nonnative brown and rainbow cousins, "brookies" are regaining a foothold in the country's most visited national park on the Tennessee-North Carolina line.
For the first time in 30 years, catching and keeping brook trout is legal in the Smokies under an experimental program begun in April.
Read the Rest
Rejoice. Again I say, Rejoice.
Tags: Fishing; Conservation
GATLINBURG, Tenn. - The cold, clear water of LeConte Creek cascades over moss-covered boulders, lingers momentarily in small pools skirted by dense rhododendron, then rushes on through the hemlock, poplar, birch and maple forest. It's here and in a handful of other streams in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park that the brook trout — the only trout native to the eastern United States and more specifically to the southern Appalachians — is making a comeback.
Imperiled from Georgia to Maine by decades of pollution, poor land management and competition from nonnative brown and rainbow cousins, "brookies" are regaining a foothold in the country's most visited national park on the Tennessee-North Carolina line.
For the first time in 30 years, catching and keeping brook trout is legal in the Smokies under an experimental program begun in April.
Read the Rest
Rejoice. Again I say, Rejoice.
Tags: Fishing; Conservation
Friday, June 09, 2006
Fly Fisking
Bloggers, Journalists, Corporate Communications Specialists, and all varieties of writers: Please do not use analogies unless you understand the nature of your analogue!
Murdock over at Flyfish Magazine noted this gross misappropriation of fly fishing tropes to make a point in a business advice column. As he observes, you see a lot fishing lingo and concepts misapplied these days, but this is among the worst examples. The analogies don't make valid or telling comparisons--they couldn't because the writer has only the most superficial grasp of what fly fishing involves, and at points, he or she loses even that. And this is only a symptom of the larger problem: the writer doens't appear to have thought through any of the ideas he or she presents or to understand anything about the situation he or she is writing about. For a fly fisherman who is also an English teacher, this is a piece of raw meat waiting to be skewered, roasted, and devoured. Start the grill.
In the early stages of your company's growth, you may experience a hiring Catch-22.
To grow your business to the next level, you need an experienced sales, marketing or operations manager; however, you can't afford to hire experienced managers until your business grows to the next level.
To resolve this quandary, you should consider three essentials of fly-fisherman wisdom.
First, when you are angling for the right person, you must equip yourself with the right fishing gear.
Second, when you find the person with the credentials and experience you need, be sure you are using the right bait. Third, once you have set the hook, don't give up and turn the catch loose without a good fight.
We're talking about fly fishing, right? That means you don't use BAIT! Maybe the writer understands that the terms "fly" or "pattern" would be less likely to register with most non-fly fishing readers. But if that's the case, shouldn't you choose a different analogy instead of rendering this one erroneously?
The rest of the advice here is too generic to be meaningful. Unless of course the writer expanded on these points to explain what the right gear, the right bait, and the right way to set the hook are. Did that happen?
With the resourcefulness you've shown in growing your young business, you should be able to apply the same ingenuity and determination here as well.
However, before trying to land the big one, first ask yourself a soul-searching question: is this truly the right person for your business?
Nope, not yet. The writer actually begins to leap between discourses. With "soul searching," he or she veers into the realms of spirituality or self-actualization psychology, which seems off the mark: wouldn't business people base such a decision on the needs and dynamics of their company?
Experience is not the only key ingredient.
Suppose you decide on an experienced, inflexible, superstar loner with his/her own way of doing things.
I'm sure that's the first choice of every personnel manager or company owner.
This could cause friction and discontent among your staff while making the superstar ill at ease. The resulting discomfort would probably cause the superstar to quit soon, leaving behind resentment and confusion.
Not to mention relief!
Instead, strive to find a highly motivated individual who relishes the challenge and dynamics of a team-driven environment.
In short, someone who is a walking buzzword.
Such a person should mesh well with your management team and the way you do business. Once you are convinced you have the right candidate in terms of experience, credentials, personality, flexibility and team dynamics, it is time to get creative.
That time has come and gone.
Let's assume you have set your sights on Jane McKenna, a marketing manager with 15 years of experience, who is perfect for your director of marketing.
But there's a slight hitch: she is earning $65,000 a year, and the best you could offer is $40,000.
Should you throw in the towel?
Not without a fight.
Are we talking about fishing or boxing?
First, look at your sales figures. Try adding a bonus commission based on sales. A $40,000 base with a $20,000 commission considerably reduces the disparity between Jane's former salary and what you can offer her.
Is her current salary 65,000? You'd better be able to offer a lot higher comission potential than you have. Why would she take a job that came with a $5,000 pay cut even after she'd maxed out on commission? You apparently believe your ideal candidate is a moron. Of course, money isn't everything.
Try changing the title to vice president of marketing, so Jane perceives she'll be making a move from manager to executive.
You're hoping that if she isn't a moron, she's at least gullible enough to fall for a semantic trick. If Jane is the highly competent and experienced manager you think she is, she's going to research your company and see through this flattery.
Consider throwing in some stock options. You want Jane to believe your company will be a smashing success, so she will want to reap the benefits of ownership.
What if you still can't offer enough to lure her on a full-time basis? Then try to land her part time, initially offering a generous commission in lieu of salary and additional compensation for participating in strategy meetings.
Finally, modify your company growth plan to show at what point you could offer Jane the compensation package necessary to bring her on board full time.
With all this in place, you can include a person of Jane's stature and credentials as a paid adviser in your business plan (with a path to joining the firm as a full-time executive at a specific time).
However, if Jane's present post precludes a part-time position with your company, use her as a periodic paid consultant to help you develop your company's marketing strategy. You can even bait the hook by asking for her recommendation for marketing manager while keeping the vice president's position vacant for her to consider when you are able to make her a better offer in a year or two.
Is it credible that any of this would lure a person who already has a successful career? If the firm they are already with is a competitor, would the person risk that job to advise your company on how to outcompete their present employer? Hard to believe unless there is a very substantial raise in the offing, you already know that Jane is interested in part time work (perhaps to spend more time with family), or the work you offer is especially compatible with her values or her desired lifestyle (say, if Jane is an avid fly angler and your company is in Missoula, MT). Maybe you are in a field (other than Jane's current one) that is growing rapidly and might attract people looking for new challenges. Those non-financial incentives are never considered, though they would be tempting flies to drift by her, provided you've got them in your box. (Now that's how its done!) Instead of trying to juggle finances to headhunt someone who'd already doing well, why not look a little harder at what Jane might want, and what beyond the numbers you have to offer. Scribe, heed your own advice: It's time to get creative.
At least we did get back to fishing, briefly. Still, we're talking about bait! FLY fishing was set forth as the operating analogy at the beginning. One more time: If you don't understand your analogue, don't use it! The ignorance of fly vs. other kinds of fishing aside, which of these things represent equipment as opposed to bait? If you're going to lay out three distinct categories, go on to delineate each of them.
Chances are, if she has helped you mold the marketing strategy, hire the marketing manager and continued to consult with you periodically, she'll be interested in joining you when the time is right. And you can still list her in your business plan as a paid consultant.
Maybe. But that's a big if.
For long-term success, take your time finding the right candidates to help grow your management team.
For long term success, learn to write well. And learn to view potential employees as more than one-dimensional oppportunists who are only interested in the size of their paycheck (which can be off-putting even to people who want to earn a good salary and have the skills to command it). But if you do, or if you find people who are like that, make them an offer big enough to be tempting.
Once you have identified a critical individual, be patient, persistent and creative (with bonuses, commissions, stock options, and perks) and you just may be able to reel in this big catch.
Now there is actually decent advice here (and throughout the article) about thinking beyond the obvious when trying to compete for talent with limited means. But it's offered in generic terms and based on unrealistic assumptions about the people you're chasing. Fly fishing actually would offer a lot to illustrate the challenges a businessperson would face in trying to make this hire. The sport demands thoughtful and artful stalking of the quarry. It requires you to adapt when the currents or obstructions in a pool put you at a disadvantage. A skilled--and informed--writer ought to be able to draw upon these themes without waxing too esoteric for the non-angling reader.
Despite all this, I will concede the writer has made a very wise choice: the article is unsigned.
Tags: Fly Fishing; Writing
Murdock over at Flyfish Magazine noted this gross misappropriation of fly fishing tropes to make a point in a business advice column. As he observes, you see a lot fishing lingo and concepts misapplied these days, but this is among the worst examples. The analogies don't make valid or telling comparisons--they couldn't because the writer has only the most superficial grasp of what fly fishing involves, and at points, he or she loses even that. And this is only a symptom of the larger problem: the writer doens't appear to have thought through any of the ideas he or she presents or to understand anything about the situation he or she is writing about. For a fly fisherman who is also an English teacher, this is a piece of raw meat waiting to be skewered, roasted, and devoured. Start the grill.
In the early stages of your company's growth, you may experience a hiring Catch-22.
To grow your business to the next level, you need an experienced sales, marketing or operations manager; however, you can't afford to hire experienced managers until your business grows to the next level.
To resolve this quandary, you should consider three essentials of fly-fisherman wisdom.
First, when you are angling for the right person, you must equip yourself with the right fishing gear.
Second, when you find the person with the credentials and experience you need, be sure you are using the right bait. Third, once you have set the hook, don't give up and turn the catch loose without a good fight.
We're talking about fly fishing, right? That means you don't use BAIT! Maybe the writer understands that the terms "fly" or "pattern" would be less likely to register with most non-fly fishing readers. But if that's the case, shouldn't you choose a different analogy instead of rendering this one erroneously?
The rest of the advice here is too generic to be meaningful. Unless of course the writer expanded on these points to explain what the right gear, the right bait, and the right way to set the hook are. Did that happen?
With the resourcefulness you've shown in growing your young business, you should be able to apply the same ingenuity and determination here as well.
However, before trying to land the big one, first ask yourself a soul-searching question: is this truly the right person for your business?
Nope, not yet. The writer actually begins to leap between discourses. With "soul searching," he or she veers into the realms of spirituality or self-actualization psychology, which seems off the mark: wouldn't business people base such a decision on the needs and dynamics of their company?
Experience is not the only key ingredient.
Suppose you decide on an experienced, inflexible, superstar loner with his/her own way of doing things.
I'm sure that's the first choice of every personnel manager or company owner.
This could cause friction and discontent among your staff while making the superstar ill at ease. The resulting discomfort would probably cause the superstar to quit soon, leaving behind resentment and confusion.
Not to mention relief!
Instead, strive to find a highly motivated individual who relishes the challenge and dynamics of a team-driven environment.
In short, someone who is a walking buzzword.
Such a person should mesh well with your management team and the way you do business. Once you are convinced you have the right candidate in terms of experience, credentials, personality, flexibility and team dynamics, it is time to get creative.
That time has come and gone.
Let's assume you have set your sights on Jane McKenna, a marketing manager with 15 years of experience, who is perfect for your director of marketing.
But there's a slight hitch: she is earning $65,000 a year, and the best you could offer is $40,000.
Should you throw in the towel?
Not without a fight.
Are we talking about fishing or boxing?
First, look at your sales figures. Try adding a bonus commission based on sales. A $40,000 base with a $20,000 commission considerably reduces the disparity between Jane's former salary and what you can offer her.
Is her current salary 65,000? You'd better be able to offer a lot higher comission potential than you have. Why would she take a job that came with a $5,000 pay cut even after she'd maxed out on commission? You apparently believe your ideal candidate is a moron. Of course, money isn't everything.
Try changing the title to vice president of marketing, so Jane perceives she'll be making a move from manager to executive.
You're hoping that if she isn't a moron, she's at least gullible enough to fall for a semantic trick. If Jane is the highly competent and experienced manager you think she is, she's going to research your company and see through this flattery.
Consider throwing in some stock options. You want Jane to believe your company will be a smashing success, so she will want to reap the benefits of ownership.
What if you still can't offer enough to lure her on a full-time basis? Then try to land her part time, initially offering a generous commission in lieu of salary and additional compensation for participating in strategy meetings.
Finally, modify your company growth plan to show at what point you could offer Jane the compensation package necessary to bring her on board full time.
With all this in place, you can include a person of Jane's stature and credentials as a paid adviser in your business plan (with a path to joining the firm as a full-time executive at a specific time).
However, if Jane's present post precludes a part-time position with your company, use her as a periodic paid consultant to help you develop your company's marketing strategy. You can even bait the hook by asking for her recommendation for marketing manager while keeping the vice president's position vacant for her to consider when you are able to make her a better offer in a year or two.
Is it credible that any of this would lure a person who already has a successful career? If the firm they are already with is a competitor, would the person risk that job to advise your company on how to outcompete their present employer? Hard to believe unless there is a very substantial raise in the offing, you already know that Jane is interested in part time work (perhaps to spend more time with family), or the work you offer is especially compatible with her values or her desired lifestyle (say, if Jane is an avid fly angler and your company is in Missoula, MT). Maybe you are in a field (other than Jane's current one) that is growing rapidly and might attract people looking for new challenges. Those non-financial incentives are never considered, though they would be tempting flies to drift by her, provided you've got them in your box. (Now that's how its done!) Instead of trying to juggle finances to headhunt someone who'd already doing well, why not look a little harder at what Jane might want, and what beyond the numbers you have to offer. Scribe, heed your own advice: It's time to get creative.
At least we did get back to fishing, briefly. Still, we're talking about bait! FLY fishing was set forth as the operating analogy at the beginning. One more time: If you don't understand your analogue, don't use it! The ignorance of fly vs. other kinds of fishing aside, which of these things represent equipment as opposed to bait? If you're going to lay out three distinct categories, go on to delineate each of them.
Chances are, if she has helped you mold the marketing strategy, hire the marketing manager and continued to consult with you periodically, she'll be interested in joining you when the time is right. And you can still list her in your business plan as a paid consultant.
Maybe. But that's a big if.
For long-term success, take your time finding the right candidates to help grow your management team.
For long term success, learn to write well. And learn to view potential employees as more than one-dimensional oppportunists who are only interested in the size of their paycheck (which can be off-putting even to people who want to earn a good salary and have the skills to command it). But if you do, or if you find people who are like that, make them an offer big enough to be tempting.
Once you have identified a critical individual, be patient, persistent and creative (with bonuses, commissions, stock options, and perks) and you just may be able to reel in this big catch.
Now there is actually decent advice here (and throughout the article) about thinking beyond the obvious when trying to compete for talent with limited means. But it's offered in generic terms and based on unrealistic assumptions about the people you're chasing. Fly fishing actually would offer a lot to illustrate the challenges a businessperson would face in trying to make this hire. The sport demands thoughtful and artful stalking of the quarry. It requires you to adapt when the currents or obstructions in a pool put you at a disadvantage. A skilled--and informed--writer ought to be able to draw upon these themes without waxing too esoteric for the non-angling reader.
Despite all this, I will concede the writer has made a very wise choice: the article is unsigned.
Tags: Fly Fishing; Writing
Playing on the Job
Note to readers--My dissertation on the hunting tournaments went out a little unripe. In the future I promise to hold off on longer essays until the gaps are filled, and the fat trimmed. In keeping with that...
Yesterday I was at the doctor's getting a wart frozen off. (No gory details, I promise). He swabbed it with liquid nitrogen from a styrofoam cup, and when he finished, he turned the cup upside down and the stuff swept to the floor in a long plume of fog, spread with a thump into an inverted mushroom cloud when it hit, then disappeared.
The doctor said "We're not supposed to do that. It cracks the linoleum. But I can't help it." He paused, smiling. "It's fun to watch it go up in smoke."
It's a healthy person, I think, who can squeeze a harmless juvenile stunt into a round of serious duties.
Yesterday I was at the doctor's getting a wart frozen off. (No gory details, I promise). He swabbed it with liquid nitrogen from a styrofoam cup, and when he finished, he turned the cup upside down and the stuff swept to the floor in a long plume of fog, spread with a thump into an inverted mushroom cloud when it hit, then disappeared.
The doctor said "We're not supposed to do that. It cracks the linoleum. But I can't help it." He paused, smiling. "It's fun to watch it go up in smoke."
It's a healthy person, I think, who can squeeze a harmless juvenile stunt into a round of serious duties.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Hunting for Dollars
I wondered when this would happen. From yesterday's Detroit Free Press:
The World Hunting Association announced its plans Tuesday to create a competitive hunting tour around the world, with the 2006 inaugural season beginning this fall in Gladwin, Mich., at the Lost Arrow Ranch.
Hunters will shoot white-tail deer and other game with tranquilizers, which should not kill the animals.
"For far too long, hunters have looked forward to the day when we would eventually get our own professional sports league," WHA hunter Brett Hankins said in a statement. "Well, that time has arrived and we are extremely excited."
Though Hankins portrays this as fulfillment of a longstanding grassroots desire, I suspect few hunters will welcome this development. A statement by WHA founder David Farbman points to the true driving force behind these tournaments: "The WHA fills a void by providing a platform that benefits the entire international hunting industry today and for generations to come." My hunch is that the "void" he's concerned about is the one likely to form in the balance sheets of outfitters and equipment manufacturers as hunter numbers dwindle. Although there is some indication that decline has been checked, it is likely to resume or at least be an ongoing threat, since for a number of reasons related to demographics and sensibilities, fewer and fewer children are exposed to hunting by a parent or other adult. If the bug isn't caught early, it's unlikely to affect people later and life, and to encourage them to teach their kids about hunting, etc. Kids get all sorts of exposure to television, though, and a few might happen on televised tournaments and so get a glimpse of the challenges and satisfactions of hunting. So yet another way (and certainly one of the more curious ones) in which people are looking to television to raise children.
There are all sorts of reasons hunters are likely to object to this: the commercialization (at least to an unacceptable degree) of something that connects people to their primitive nature; the appropriation of wild animals as marketing tools; turning an active sport into one for spectators. I think the last of these points to what about these proposed tournaments--and about what I think is their motivation--is most contrary to the essential nature of hunting: the ambition to attract eyeballs, to get people to watch.
Hunting is an act of revealing what is hidden. Animals try (and are equipped in all sorts of ways) to hide. For them, being seen by another creature is potentially a mortal danger. The objective in hunting is defeat animals' instincts and capacities to hide and to bring them into view. But to do so, the hunter must, in most cases, strive to remain hidden also. Hiding from the view, or smell, of animals by using cover and locating oneself downwind of potential prey, the hunter increases the the likelihood of an animal showing itself. Besides this, hunters famously strive to avoid the notice of other hunters, lest these others begin seeking and seeing game in their productive spots. So it was in the Stone Age, and is in the electronic age. On all sides, hunting is at bottom an occulted undertaking. What becomes of it, then, when all those eyes, electronic and natural, immediate and dispersed around the television sets of the world, are drawn to it at great effort and expense?
Most basically, sport becomes entertainment, which I think poses some problems for these tournaments as hunter-recruitment tools. Outdoor programs by and large are not that entertaining, at least for people without some prior connection to the sports presented. Addtionally, to be entertaining, the tournament shows will need to present a level and continuity of action that doesn't occur in actual hunting, or fishing. Any sportsperson will tell you that at some or most points in the course of these activities, you will spend a long time on the water or in the field seeing and doing very little. A kid who goes hunting wanting to replicate the experience he saw in the tournament is likely to be very disappointed.
Some may well make their way through that disappointment to develop a realistic and personal appreciation of hunting. The handful of those who will may be enough for the tournament creators. Still, the WHA tournament scheme strikes me as an act of self-mutilation undertaken in hopes of strengthening oneself.
Much of what I said above could be said of fishing tournaments, of course. Those strike me as misguided too, although the kinds of fishing that are foci of competition (bass and walleye) can actually accomodate spectators better (beyond staying in a boat, concealment isn't all that much of an issue). The addition of hunting tournaments to fishing tournaments is a bad idea going worse. We trout-fly fishing types may have to take some of the blame, though, since tranquilizer-dart hunting may be the logical end result of the catch and release ethic. What have we wrought?
When the hunting tournaments finally make the airwaves, may they survive as long as a blind pheasant.
Tags: Outdoors; Hunting
The World Hunting Association announced its plans Tuesday to create a competitive hunting tour around the world, with the 2006 inaugural season beginning this fall in Gladwin, Mich., at the Lost Arrow Ranch.
Hunters will shoot white-tail deer and other game with tranquilizers, which should not kill the animals.
"For far too long, hunters have looked forward to the day when we would eventually get our own professional sports league," WHA hunter Brett Hankins said in a statement. "Well, that time has arrived and we are extremely excited."
Though Hankins portrays this as fulfillment of a longstanding grassroots desire, I suspect few hunters will welcome this development. A statement by WHA founder David Farbman points to the true driving force behind these tournaments: "The WHA fills a void by providing a platform that benefits the entire international hunting industry today and for generations to come." My hunch is that the "void" he's concerned about is the one likely to form in the balance sheets of outfitters and equipment manufacturers as hunter numbers dwindle. Although there is some indication that decline has been checked, it is likely to resume or at least be an ongoing threat, since for a number of reasons related to demographics and sensibilities, fewer and fewer children are exposed to hunting by a parent or other adult. If the bug isn't caught early, it's unlikely to affect people later and life, and to encourage them to teach their kids about hunting, etc. Kids get all sorts of exposure to television, though, and a few might happen on televised tournaments and so get a glimpse of the challenges and satisfactions of hunting. So yet another way (and certainly one of the more curious ones) in which people are looking to television to raise children.
There are all sorts of reasons hunters are likely to object to this: the commercialization (at least to an unacceptable degree) of something that connects people to their primitive nature; the appropriation of wild animals as marketing tools; turning an active sport into one for spectators. I think the last of these points to what about these proposed tournaments--and about what I think is their motivation--is most contrary to the essential nature of hunting: the ambition to attract eyeballs, to get people to watch.
Hunting is an act of revealing what is hidden. Animals try (and are equipped in all sorts of ways) to hide. For them, being seen by another creature is potentially a mortal danger. The objective in hunting is defeat animals' instincts and capacities to hide and to bring them into view. But to do so, the hunter must, in most cases, strive to remain hidden also. Hiding from the view, or smell, of animals by using cover and locating oneself downwind of potential prey, the hunter increases the the likelihood of an animal showing itself. Besides this, hunters famously strive to avoid the notice of other hunters, lest these others begin seeking and seeing game in their productive spots. So it was in the Stone Age, and is in the electronic age. On all sides, hunting is at bottom an occulted undertaking. What becomes of it, then, when all those eyes, electronic and natural, immediate and dispersed around the television sets of the world, are drawn to it at great effort and expense?
Most basically, sport becomes entertainment, which I think poses some problems for these tournaments as hunter-recruitment tools. Outdoor programs by and large are not that entertaining, at least for people without some prior connection to the sports presented. Addtionally, to be entertaining, the tournament shows will need to present a level and continuity of action that doesn't occur in actual hunting, or fishing. Any sportsperson will tell you that at some or most points in the course of these activities, you will spend a long time on the water or in the field seeing and doing very little. A kid who goes hunting wanting to replicate the experience he saw in the tournament is likely to be very disappointed.
Some may well make their way through that disappointment to develop a realistic and personal appreciation of hunting. The handful of those who will may be enough for the tournament creators. Still, the WHA tournament scheme strikes me as an act of self-mutilation undertaken in hopes of strengthening oneself.
Much of what I said above could be said of fishing tournaments, of course. Those strike me as misguided too, although the kinds of fishing that are foci of competition (bass and walleye) can actually accomodate spectators better (beyond staying in a boat, concealment isn't all that much of an issue). The addition of hunting tournaments to fishing tournaments is a bad idea going worse. We trout-fly fishing types may have to take some of the blame, though, since tranquilizer-dart hunting may be the logical end result of the catch and release ethic. What have we wrought?
When the hunting tournaments finally make the airwaves, may they survive as long as a blind pheasant.
Tags: Outdoors; Hunting
Monday, June 05, 2006
Glossolalia, On Cue
Yesterday was the feast of Pentecost, commemorating the church's reception of the Holy Spirit. Our parish celebrates this day partly by a scripted act of speaking in tounges--which the book of Acts states the apostles did with no prompting except the infusion of the Spirit:
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ (Acts 2:1-11)
As our deacon reads the passage above (in English), people in the congregation who speak foreign languages will, at the start of the second paragraph, rise and begin reading along in whatever language they speak. A little gimmicky, I guess, but relatively few Episcopalians enjoy the charism of true glossolalia. In the past I've done German, though I forgot to pick up a cue card this year.
The resulting murmur is by turns fractured and intriguingly, beautifully blended. It offers fodder for interesting reflections on the event, though it also suggests to me something about religious experience more broadly. As I hear the same message delivered through diffferent words spoken in diffferent timbres and rythmns, I hear given voice a longstanding perception of mine about the practice of faith. People come to the gospel from different positions in life and different views of the world, holding different values and different notions of their relation to others. These people don't always fit together harmoniously. They disagree on how to worship sometimes, and they get frustrated with each other when they work together for some end they agree is worthy. Christians also understand the gospel they hear in different ways, and hold varied views on essential doctrines of the church. Some reject some of those things held to be essential. Others reject them for doing so. Yet even with these conflicts, people are drawn back again to the message again and again, sometimes in spite of efforts to distance themselves from it. Joined around something greater than themselves, they often find a unity in which they act (or which acts through them) to transform individuals, communities, and creation. Beyond the confines of ritual, it isn't always pretty, and it is sometimes marginally functional. But that unity and the force it projects can be far more powerful than any of its consitutents would have guessed.
Tags: Spirituality; Christianity; Pentecost
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ (Acts 2:1-11)
As our deacon reads the passage above (in English), people in the congregation who speak foreign languages will, at the start of the second paragraph, rise and begin reading along in whatever language they speak. A little gimmicky, I guess, but relatively few Episcopalians enjoy the charism of true glossolalia. In the past I've done German, though I forgot to pick up a cue card this year.
The resulting murmur is by turns fractured and intriguingly, beautifully blended. It offers fodder for interesting reflections on the event, though it also suggests to me something about religious experience more broadly. As I hear the same message delivered through diffferent words spoken in diffferent timbres and rythmns, I hear given voice a longstanding perception of mine about the practice of faith. People come to the gospel from different positions in life and different views of the world, holding different values and different notions of their relation to others. These people don't always fit together harmoniously. They disagree on how to worship sometimes, and they get frustrated with each other when they work together for some end they agree is worthy. Christians also understand the gospel they hear in different ways, and hold varied views on essential doctrines of the church. Some reject some of those things held to be essential. Others reject them for doing so. Yet even with these conflicts, people are drawn back again to the message again and again, sometimes in spite of efforts to distance themselves from it. Joined around something greater than themselves, they often find a unity in which they act (or which acts through them) to transform individuals, communities, and creation. Beyond the confines of ritual, it isn't always pretty, and it is sometimes marginally functional. But that unity and the force it projects can be far more powerful than any of its consitutents would have guessed.
Tags: Spirituality; Christianity; Pentecost
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Manistee Trip, 5/31-6/2
When my father kept a trailer at Manistee, we went up there fairly often, either together or by ourselves. He was up there every other week, actually. Since he gave up the trailer in 2000, I haven't been back very often, aside from a trip or two a year with him. These days, going to Manistee feels like returning to a place I used to live; visiting a strange town where you happen to know all the streets.
We usually fish Manistee lake (a drowned river mouth just upstream from the river's outlet into Lake Michigan) for bass, pike, or panfish, sometimes venturing up into the lower Manistee river. Our favorite thing to do up there is cast topwater lures for bass early in the morning. There are two locations on the lake where we ususally do well with this, but neither produced well this week. We did manage a handful of bass, mostly sublegal. We did better bait fishing for panfish. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning, we caught nice messes of bluegill, rock bass, and perch. As I forgot my cooler, my dad took all of them home.
After he left on Friday afternoon, I drove east to explore the Clam River near Cadillac, which is reputedly a good brook trout stream. It looks like one, clear and gently flowing with deep bankside runs, lots of brush, and deep pockets hidden among large hummocks of weeds. Spider webs along the stream had brown drakes caught in them, but there was no insect activity while I was there, roughly 3:30-6:00. I fished a number of attractor dries, as well as nymphs and soft hackle wets, but landed only three dinky brook trout. I thought seriously about staying until nightfall, but the temperature was cooling fast, and I had a busy Saturday ahead of me. Instead, I made a mental note to return to the Clam when I had more time to explore. For looks alone, I think it merits another visit.
We usually fish Manistee lake (a drowned river mouth just upstream from the river's outlet into Lake Michigan) for bass, pike, or panfish, sometimes venturing up into the lower Manistee river. Our favorite thing to do up there is cast topwater lures for bass early in the morning. There are two locations on the lake where we ususally do well with this, but neither produced well this week. We did manage a handful of bass, mostly sublegal. We did better bait fishing for panfish. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning, we caught nice messes of bluegill, rock bass, and perch. As I forgot my cooler, my dad took all of them home.
After he left on Friday afternoon, I drove east to explore the Clam River near Cadillac, which is reputedly a good brook trout stream. It looks like one, clear and gently flowing with deep bankside runs, lots of brush, and deep pockets hidden among large hummocks of weeds. Spider webs along the stream had brown drakes caught in them, but there was no insect activity while I was there, roughly 3:30-6:00. I fished a number of attractor dries, as well as nymphs and soft hackle wets, but landed only three dinky brook trout. I thought seriously about staying until nightfall, but the temperature was cooling fast, and I had a busy Saturday ahead of me. Instead, I made a mental note to return to the Clam when I had more time to explore. For looks alone, I think it merits another visit.
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