Seasonal Sanctuary Stewards Make a Difference 2023

The Hawk Mountain Sanctuary Stewardship Department seeks Seasonal Sanctuary Stewards for field seasons from May through August.  Following are the written accounts of four outstanding Stewards from the past 2023 season.  

Caroline Fegley – stewardship blog 2023

After earning a bachelor’s degree, the outside world was pressuring me to attend graduate school, but how was I supposed to commit to a career field without experiencing every option first? Since 2021, I’ve spent seasons as a raptor researcher, educator, and this year a stewardship technician searching for whichever path was right for me.

This past winter while working on a mural for Todd Bauman, I asked him if I could join his stewardship team for the summer. I knew it would be tough, and to join the crew I had to be ready for hardcore workdays but spending work in the woods seemed infinitely better than a desk. Within the first week, I’d used more new tools and skills than I could count to help timber-frame an info kiosk at the main trailhead. After four years of weightlifting and rock climbing, I thought I was strong, but at times could barely keep up with Brandie lifting and throwing wooden beams onto the workbench. Could I match my crew’s pace for the entire season?

It was a dry spring with the first big rain happening the first few days of May. We used the opportunity to complete salamander surveys on several plots established throughout Hawk Mountain and Weiser State Forest. This was my element. Trekking around the mountain, we timed ourselves for 10 minutes at every plot and tried to flip over as many rocks and logs as we could, looking for signs of small amphibians. While replacing old flags around the perimeters, I would point out the fresh songbird migrants to Brandie, honored to witness the tiny creatures resting amidst their immense journeys. 

Over the next several weeks, our crew watched as the forest came alive with new plants and animals. We were ecstatic to have our favorite places filled with creatures we’d missed all winter; however, a new enemy was beginning to take force against us. The biggest challenge the stewardship crew faces is removing invasive plants to restore natural habitat and maintain it for years to come. Unfortunately, due to human movement, we carry and spread invasive species capable of decimating entire ecosystems. To keep Hawk Mountain a safe place for local and migrant wildlife, nurturing the native plants is imperative. My days quickly turned into 8 hours of focusing on leaves and flowers to swiftly decide if a plant deserved to die by the wrath of the weed-whacker. By the end of each night, my eyes would close, and imagery of hundreds of garlic mustard plants would flash through my head. 

Mid-season my hope started to waver as to whether our efforts made any difference in the ecosystems we were trying so hard to protect. At the end of each shift, I struggled to give my body enough calories to sustain the next day’s tasks before hitting my pillow and being thrown into a night’s sleep. I wasn’t sure it was possible to reach our goals with a crew of only several people, even though we were putting 100% of our available energy into the cause. It was then that I was taken for the first time to the Cerulean Enclosure, built to protect a portion of land from being over-browsed by hungry deer. Inside the fence, native plant species I’d never had the chance to encounter were thriving. Only a short time ago, that same land was struggling to win the fight against invasives, but with the help of the crew’s many hours of hand-weeding, the natural ecosystem was healed. My crew felt like children on Christmas morning, running around with our phones to identify plants brand new to our eyes. It was clear our efforts were worth it. 

My season began in search for an answer to which conservation path was right for me. After a few months I got my answer: all of them. Without research, you cannot educate; without education, you cannot engage research; and without stewardship, you cannot protect or nurture the ecosystems you’re trying to research and educate about. Every conservation path is intertwined and equally important to the overall cause. 

Kate George-Stewardship Blog 2023

A day in the life of a Land Steward at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary

 

Venomous snakes, stinging insects, sweat, teamwork, conservation, restoration, these are all things I experienced while working at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary as a land steward this summer.  To be fair, there is no average day to day for a Steward, for this is not your normal 9-5 office job.  Tasks can vary daily depending on the needs and long-term goals of the Sanctuary.  I will try my best to walk you through a day in the life as a sanctuary steward. 

My day begins at 8:00am sharp.  As a team, we meet and debrief the plans for the day.  After that, we promptly depart to meet at the shed also known as "der schuppe". The shed holds all the tools for our success:  saws, watering cans, shovels, sledgehammers, drills, paint.  At this point our tasks could vary quite a bit from day to day.  Some mornings are spent driving the golf cart to go water the blueberries planted on the North Lookout Trail.  The blueberries were planted to restore wildlife habitat on the forest floor. Other mornings are spent digging holes to put up posts for deer exclosures.  A deer exclosure is an area protected against deer to allow native plants to grow and thrive.  We usually take a break around noon and eat some lunch. 

Later in the season, we spend most of the day spraying invasive weeds with a backpack sprayer.  Invasive weed management is a very important focus for Hawk Mountain.  Without management, the invasive weeds and shrubs can take over the forest’s understory, preventing native plants to flourish and thrive. We mainly target stilt grass and smart weed with the sprayer and hand-pull other invasives such as crown-vetch, mile-a-minute, mugwort, bindweed, barberry, and garlic mustard. 

While managing invasives in the middle of the forest, you can really get lost in the beauty of the woods that surround you.  My favorite part of my day is seeing first-hand some of the coolest flora and fauna in their natural habitats.  My favorites include a red eft, wood frog, white-tail deer, timber rattlesnake, sensitive fern, rattlesnake plantain, and coral fungus.  It is amazing what you can find living on the forest floor once you really stop and pay attention.  I highly recommend to anyone to just take a moment outside, slow down, and just observe the mass amount of life that is happening below your feet.  

At about 4:00 we end up packing it up for the day.  We head back to the shed to rinse out our sprayers and go home.  Although I am usually exhausted and fatigued by the end of the day, I always leave with a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction from all the hard work we accomplished. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Abigail Ide-Stewardship Blog 2023

This job is no picnic. I regularly trip over logs, slip on rocks, and take the occasional fall. I’ve been bit by itchy chiggers, buzzing mosquitos, poppyseed-sized ticks. There were days when I held my breath cleaning the composting toilets. Days I’d start spraying at five in the morning by the light of headlamps just to avoid the heat of the day. Days where I’d climb the two and a half miles ascend up the ridge with a forty-five-pound backpack. And another day or two I’d clock out with my lower back stained blue from a leaking sprayer. Those are the days I would question if it’s worth it. I could be making the same fifteen dollars an hour stocking shelves somewhere dry and airconditioned. And still I stay here.

I’ve never left a shift feeling unfulfilled. Areas that were once seas of stilt grass and blockades of barberry were cleared for new growth because of me. Areas devoid of old growth will have a fighting chance because of me. Trails are no longer trenched nor unsafe because of me. But I didn’t do it alone. This job would be impossible if it weren’t for the dedicated team of stewards here at Hawk Mountain. We all left some days soaking wet yet smiling and that’s what makes me come back after those bad days. Packing four stewards on the front of a golf cart just to water blueberries. Laughing at Todd’s childhood stories over a Stromboli sandwich till I wheeze makes those bad days not so bad. Seeing tiny native sprouts poking through the leaf litter brings a smile to my face. And the occasional surprise of a shy box turtle, a curious deer, or a racing snake make our day here. 

I’ll be leaving my first season here in a few days and it was the best job I’ve ever had. Being able to see the fruits of our labor now and knowing somebody, if not my returning self, will carry on my effort next year is special. Collecting data for collaborative research projects, becoming a certified pesticide technician, and learning to operate a front loader and backhoe are only a handful of invaluable skills I only have this job to thank for. 

                                So, thank you Hawk Mountain. KJB-211, Abby clear.

Brandie Garner – Stewardship blog 2023

 

When I first started working at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary, I thought that I had everything planned out. I was going to work a summer position, gain experience and knowledge while continuing to move forward with my goals in environmental science. I didn’t realize how quickly I’d fall in love with this place and the people here. Even though this is one of the most physically challenging places I’d ever worked, by the end of that first summer season I knew this was where I wanted to be. 

 

At first I thought working here on the mountain would just be an easy summer position with the added perk of working outside but I was quickly proven wrong. That first season I was immediately hit with intense summer heat and humidity all while carrying a 45lb backpack sprayer up and down rocky hills. To this day it is something that I haven't gotten used to and according to my coworkers you never do. At first, the amount of invasive species covering the forest floor was overwhelming and discouraging. It didn’t seem possible to accomplish the goals my supervisors set for the department. Though we still have a long way to go, after three years here I can confidently say that is not the case. 

 

During my first year as a sanctuary steward I remember standing at the top of our leading edge; looking down at a sea of Japanese stilt grass as far as the eye can see. Every year we spend most of our summers focusing on that area, with it being one of the main spots for invasives enter our forest interior. As we moved to other areas of our leading edge and I saw similar scenes I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. 

 

Three summers ago, we built a 2.5 acre deer exclosure in an area that used to be covered in Japanese barberry and Japanese stilt grass. The number of post holes we had to dig was… one too many. It didn’t help that half of the time there were huge rocks stopping you from digging further so you either had to move to a different spot or it was time to pull out the big rock bar. As challenging as that all seems it wasn’t even the hardest part. Now, with all the work I’ve done I like to think that I'm pretty strong but nothing shows you the truth more than having to carry 8 foot poles down a rocky, uneven mountain. While it wasn’t fun, I have to admit that I was impressed with myself once we got all of the poles to their locations. 

 

With the help of our “Ye Olde Fence Stretcher” (and the amazing circus-like teamwork between Steve and Vinny) we were able to finish the exclosure. At the end of the day all that work was really worth it. The exclosure went from being an open sea of stilt grass to a fenced-in oasis bursting with a plethora of native flora. This area is filled with so many natives that there’s even some that aren’t really found on other parts of the mountain. It can be difficult and stressful avoiding native plants while spraying so it is nice that this area is now able to be hand pulled.

 

This past year I was tasked with designing and installing signage identifying each of our drainages in the leading edge and now it is much easier to be more efficient with our spraying. A pack that used to take roughly 30 minutes to empty is now taking almost two hours in this area because now we have to walk further in the mountain in search of invasive plants. In that area we constructed 10 mini deer exclosures and planted over 500 trees. It’s a great feeling that one day I'll be able to see grown trees and know that I helped make that happen. We were able to provide multiple areas for our Pennsylvania natives to flourish and I am proud of that. 

 

Being able to look back each year and see the difference we are making on the mountain is both inspiring and motivating. It helps to work with people who honestly care for the mountain as their passion is contagious and inspires you to genuinely care about the mountain, the plants and animals that call it home, and all of the work we do. Not only am I seeing changes on the mountain but I’m also seeing them in myself. 

 

Before I started in the Stewardship Department here at Hawk Mountain, I had a general understanding of how basic tools work like a hammer and screw gun. However, having the full trust of my supervisors gave me the confidence to work on and obtain skills well beyond that. I can now say that I have and can effectively use power sanders, almost every type of saw there is, gas powered compactors, chainsaws, diesel tractors, just to name a few. Over the past three years I’ve become quite skilled in using wood routers and have now been designated by my department as the go to person for routing signs. Learning these skills has given me the opportunity to work on projects like timber framing our new trailside kiosk, building planting tables for our wonderful Native Habitat Garden volunteers and so much more. 

 

Over the last three years I’ve learned so many things and developed various skills that I know will benefit me not only in future career opportunities but also in everyday life. I’ve led crew members on various adventures through the forest; ranging from surveying wildlife to  tackling the aggressive barberry fields in the forest interior... one of my favorite things we do on the mountain and possibly the most satisfying. Over the course of my time here I have gained so much knowledge on our native and invasive species and I look forward to learning more. I am proud to be a part of the changes here on the mountain and excited to be a part of what comes next.

 

Seasonal Steward Team assisting Dr. Sacchi on forest field research

As you should now be aware, stewarding the Sanctuary is a very challenging job.  The challenges are how to best accomplish all set goals and the mere physical fitness required to tackle the tasks.  I can tell you this, not all that start make it to the end of a season.  These four women not only survived, they thrived and Hawk Mountain was very fortunate to have them for the 2023 season.  Are you up for holding the sanctity of the Sanctuary as the highest regard?  Do you know anyone who is passionate about conservation and is up for the challenge?  And the rewards?  2024 season is right around the corner! 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhLKKHmhmUA&t=39s

To view more stewardship in action check out these links: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhLKKHmhmUA&t=39s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzStq3n7XF8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qATQSeiis9o

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtxigH1NeU8

 

Ten Years Later: Reflections on Mountain to Sea

Ten years later, a look back. Reflections. Todd Bauman shares an update by video. THANK YOU for joining in this amazing journey that continues today.

https://vimeo.com/486213860

One Final Paragraph, or maybe two

Outside off the back porch two bluebirds flutter from one branch to another.  Several white-throats rustle in the leaves of the garden along with a number of juncos.  The pond is frozen over.  Many fond memories within these four walls and outside of them.  And I am sure many yet to be had!

I am back where it all started.  Historic Schaumboch's Tavern.  I needed a few days to give a final conclusion.  Needed to mull over some things.  What is important about any journey.  What did I learn, about the trek, the route, my environment,  about myself?

One thing I learned.  Can you paddle a canoe from Hawk Mountain Sanctuary 250 miles, on three rivers, by yourself, to the Atlantic Ocean at Cape May, New Jersey?

YES YOU CAN!
 (I know there were some Delaware sailors in disbelief)

I ended just short, I know, but I could have hung out down there and waited for better weather and paddled around the point.  The one thing you can't do is to force nature to fit a human schedule.  Nature has its own way, and you can challenge yourself against its forces from time to time, but there is always limitations that you have to respect, or bad things happen.  I am the kind of guy that gets a charge from those forces, one that climbs up into trees on certain overlooks during storms to feel the surge, harness the force!  But it must always be respected.  I had learned this many years ago.

Why didn't I wait and paddle around the point?  It wasn't that important to me.  I accomplished what I set out to do.  And now I wanted to go home.  I had things to do, like meet up with my successful incoming adult children!  One coming in from Milwaukee on the evening of the 16th!  A hockey game of another to see in Scranton on the 17th!  And one coming in from Colorado and needing to be picked up from the airport on the 18th!  With a hopeful dinner with all three, together, in one safe place, this same evening!!!  HOW COOL IS THAT!!!!

What did I discover?  Wild beauty within this very populated corridor.  I had mentioned to someone that I probably traveled through the most urbanized water corridor there is?  And yet, yes, at this time of year it felt beautifully wild.   It was not wilderness.  There are strict classifications of what designates wilderness and I have been to some of those.  But I feel wilderness is also an emotion.  Did I feel wilderness?  Yes, there were times I did feel it.  A raw undisturbed natural beauty for only me to see at that moment.  Yes, I did feel wilderness.  Miles from shore, dark skies, three large unknown native creatures watching me as I slowly paddle bye.  Yes, I did feel wilderness.  A large flock of snow geese along a remote piece of shoreline in the fading light of day, for my eyes only.

Yes, I did feel wilderness!

What else did I learn?  This corridor played a very significant role in the settling of this land we call North America, the United States.  It is cluttered with human history, some pieces easier to find than others, but there is presence throughout.  It played a large part within our country's industrial revolution.  The beginning of human growth explosion, the exploitation of this once very rich ecosystems natural resources.  I noted several, the shad, the sturgeon, oysters.  That is the part that gives you a stirred up feeling in your gut.  Wow, to have been able to experience prior to the exploitation.  The vast riches.  The enormous amount of quantity there must have been.  Unfortunately for our forefathers to take, and take they did, leaving the presence of absent abundance, unfit habitat, and death.

 A reference of our very own Maurice Broun in Hawks Aloft about the very river where I started.
The dark little river (the Schuylkill) that threads its serpentine course from the north and skirts the foot of the mountain-the most significant stream in our area-what of it?  Once the wood duck and the great blue heron made it their home; shad and trout and a host of other aquatic forms abounded; and it was a wellspring of life to otters and beavers.  Under the stewardship of civilized man the little river became a sewer. 

Do not worry I am not leaving you a taste of gloom and doom and a somewhat hatred of our own species.  Just the opposite, this turns out to be a story of hope!  This same piece of stream is now a very proud fishery, wood ducks and great blue herons once again make it their home.  I have done many surveys along this stretch and many other aquatic forms also now abound, fish, salamanders, frogs.  I have witnessed beavers and I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of otters.

All the people I have come in contact with along my travels now look at this magnificent waterway for its natural riches, not its exploitation.  There are efforts to bring back the shad, the sturgeon, oysters.  The human community of this riparian corridor is connected to the natural community, and they love it!  They respect the beauty it offers, they feel its pulse.  There is hope folks!

Outside my window is my daughters car.

There are multiple dents, not there when she got the car

That's right the top one says Raft Naked, I personally do not recommend this, Cody what the?

Now you are thinking this is my daughter, she was raised on Hawk Mountain collaborating with volunteers, staff, and passionate interns from all around the world regarding conservation.  OK, that's true, but she is tied into a friend network since she left the mountain of many like young folks.  Young passionate individuals that make a stand everyday to make this world of ours better, for them but also for us all.   It is this that provides the engine that will continue to drive efforts to continue to bring back a healthy planet and make room for all its wildlife, two legged, four legged, multiple legged, and no legs.

And back to this as a fundraiser to support our programming.  This is what we do!  We provide opportunities for folks to connect to the spectacle of our natural world.   It is focused on our raptors and their migration, our specialty because our scientists and educators are the experts.  What is awesome is one component of this focuses on youth, and in a number of ways.   Weekend interpretation, visiting school groups, and service learning.  Many efforts to reach all we can.  And it is only going to get better and more dynamic!  It is a School in the Clouds!

 Mr Ahlert with Dr. Goodrich on the lookout.  His future goal is to become Hawk Mountain's President 

Hawk Mountain Conservation Corps adopts a Northern saw-whet owl

And what about community?  I expected to find the wildlife, the seclusion, the wide open spaces.  What discovery I did not expect was these wonderful communities of people.  Folks bending over backwards to help me out during my quest for the sea.  Thank you all!!!  And in my return home I was once again reminded of the wonderful community I have here, in the Kempton Valley.  I attended the Holiday Program at the local New Church School.  What a joy.  The collection of community members watching our youth perform.  Thank you Kempton for being my home!

What have I learned about myself?  Well, I no longer have any fear of paddling a canoe a distance from shore in the dark.  Did that, several times!   It was just more reaffirming of what I already learned about myself in the past, and what drives me since I turned 40 now very soon to be five years ago.  To experience as much of our wildlands as possible before my final last great journey (I am speaking here of six feet under).  Living with the wild is where I want to be, living with the wild is all I want to do!

Here is a quote, one I have always cherished.

Man always kills the things he loves, and so we the pioneers have killed our wilderness.  Some say we had to.  Be that as it may, I am glad I shall never be young without wild country to be young in.  Of what avail are forty freedoms without a blank spot on the map?           Aldo Leopold

There are still blank spots on the map that I have not seen.  Places to go, people to meet, cultures to experience.  This is one part of what I will be doing with my future years.  Another will be to keep on following values and ethics that my family instilled in me.  Work hard, and play hard!  I will be passionately working doing what it is I do.  Promoting and encouraging a connection of people to the natural world.  I have been re-examining my life over the past year, what will I do with my future kind of thing?  Here it is, this is what I will be doing, the only difference is seeking ways to do it better!

Now let me leave you with my absolute favorite quote, one I live by!

One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourselves out.  Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast..... a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic.  Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure.  It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it.  While you can.  While it's still here.  So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that sweet lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space.  Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much:  I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators.  I promise you this: 
                                             YOU WILL OUTLIVE THE BASTARDS.


                                                                                             Edward Abbey

I want to THANK YOU all very much for JOINING THE JOURNEY!!!
Todd Bauman
(Outliving the Bastards!)

P.S.  Thanks go out to HMS Board of Director Tom Stine and his associate Dennis Metzger for providing me their expertise on what technology I needed to make this BLOG happen.  Also, another thank you to Rossin Wood for giving me two Mac lessons back when I got my laptop and introducing me to blogger as a way to bring this to life.  Dr. Goodrich took the above rainbow photo from North Lookout this season.  It begins, or ends, where I started, the Little Schuylkill River!

DAY 14 Rescuing the Craft

The plan to get my equipment out was to go there at low tide in the morning and make several carries to get it all out.  As the weatherman promised, it is very, very, WINDY!  And very COLD, serious wind chill.  I am decked out in full gear incase of whatever?  Jude brought some rubber boots, I gave her another jacket to put over her other layers.

We should have come out a little earlier because tide is starting to come in, no worries yet, but it is on its way.

We can make it all the way.  Here is the area that I had to swim the day before.  Tidal flow is incredible. The post in the foreground was underwater the day before near high tide.  All the white in the photo is not sea foam per say, it is frozen crusty ice.  the entire beach is frozen.  COLD DAY!

It takes us awhile to locate the boat, I kept thinking I didn't walk that far the day before.  But finally there it is.  There is a need to keep on moving because in Jude's wardrobe she could walk around this inlet at the low tide, but if the tide comes in she ends up trapped.  Now do not get to worked up, we are not talking trapped, trapped, can't get out stuff.  Just water above her boot line, wet, which would lead to very cold feet.

We drag the boat onto the sand and it moves quite well on the frozen surface.  We each grab a line and start to pull.  Yah!  Again like mules we pull the canoe like a sled across the frozen beach working up quite a sweat.  When we get to the inlet, it has risen enough that I drag the boat over, come back over, Jude hops on piggy back style, and I wade back across.  HOW COOL IS THAT!

So we come up to the bay view spot dragging a canoe in furious winds, in extreme cold, a few folks give you some looks.  "Just out giving our canoe a drag this morning".

All frozen soon to be wet again equipment goes into the back of the Explorer, canoe on the roof.  Mission accomplished!

Conclusion to Follow!
Todd Bauman

DAY 13 Abandon Ship

Woke up to wind, lots of it.  Figured I would venture out and check on boat and water.  Boat was good, water was rough!

At the end of the road where I peered over the bank to check there was a gentleman in the truck with his dog, also peering over the bank looking at the water.  This when I met Bob Keogh, a retired computer guy turned oyster farmer.  Bob wondered whose canoe that was?  Then we chatted about Hawk Mountain and the Lehigh Valley area, its people, its charm.  He had been up that numerous times over the years when doing the computer thing, not for oysters.

Bob then gave me the whole very informative spiel about oysters and oyster farming.  How back in the day near Maurice Cove there are photos of boats lined up to transport the days catch of oysters onto docks to then be loaded onto railroad cars.  Two full trains a day, that is with multiple cars?  Loaded with oysters!  Now, lucky if there is a harvest of two pickup trucks.

Oysters of the Delaware Bay have faced a number of challenges, climate change, habitat loss, and over harvesting.  The same criteria that so many other creatures of this once very rich ecosystem faced.  Then in the 1950s an oyster disease called MSX wiped out large portions, then in the 1990s, a second disease called Dermo.  Thus the Delaware Bay Oyster Restoration Project is born.  This is a cooperative initiative that's main purpose is a complete revitalization of the Delaware Bay oysters and the once thriving industry associated with this resource.  Right here at the State University of New Jersey, Rutgers facility, they develop oyster seed stock that are disease resistant and offer them for sale to private oyster growers like Bob.

Market Size Basket

Seed Stock Basket

The growers then take the seed, place them into suspended baskets, and place them in the Bay between high and low tide marks.  This way off the sandy bottom, they grow faster (market size within 12 -18), less susceptible to disease, and are easily maintained by the growers.

Growing tanks, and suspension racks

The ecological benefit for the Bay to have good oyster populations is that they are vital in improving water quality.  Every adult oyster is capable of filtering 50 gallons of water per day.  They do this when they feed on microscopic organisms in the water.  The natural growing oysters shell also form reef type habitat that support other creatures.

Bob then takes me to introduce me to Greg DeBrosse, the Facilities Manager.  Greg and I discuss Hawk Mountain and also mention Hawk Mountain's very own Laurie Goodrich.  Greg seemed to recognize the name so I gave him a bit of background as to why?  Goodrich, being an important graduate of Rutgers, and was not to long ago featured in their alumni issue.  Greg then provided me important warm, dry, wind free blogging space.  Thank you so much Greg!!

OK, there is no reason I should be venturing out there.  But I am close, within ten miles of Cape May.  The surf with SW winds are way to harsh to launch.  So, close to high tide I decide I will walk the canoe up the coastline.  Now, I am not sure how far?  All the way to Cape May, doubtful.  But what the ....  I need to get a little closer.

First there is packing all my gear up and getting it back to the water.

 Then there is suiting up and getting ready to start hauling boat and gear up the coastline for destination unknown.  Now, I had planned the night before to be out of the field, I would be in a very developed area, and it was time.  I arranged to have Judith meet me at some point, which was unknown, late in the day.

Aah, the self portrait, if only my arms were longer I could capture more action.  Am I having fun yet!  It is starting to fade.  That is the surf in the background, Wow, not something you can paddle a canoe in.

It begins, how bad can this be, I will be on land the whole time.  I have my bow line out and I am wading in a up to my knees so the boat stays in water with the tides going in and out.  It is being pushed and pulled and blown into the shore.  This kinda sucks!  After about a mile?  I realize I am only doing this to a place called "The Villas".  That is where this is all going to end, about three miles from where I started.  At this point I am actually going along a little piece of remote bayshore.  No roads or buildings in site.  I come to a stream inlet.  With tides high it is deeper than I can wade, but not that wide.  But none the less I have to pull the boat up, empty some water that has been splashing in the cockpit, and move it into position to paddle across a 15 feet wide inlet.  Over this small distance I am immediately blown about 10 feet up the inlet.  I get out and start pulling much like the mules of the canal system I traveled down earlier on this trek.

I come to another inlet, I do the same thing, and the same thing happens, blown up but get to the other side.  Then an even greater obstacle.  A length of beached tree snags, with high tide running past them and around them.  About a 100 yards of them.  I would venture out into deeper water so that the boat could be negotiated around each one.  The tide and wind would blow the craft into these tenacled type of creatures that want to catch and trap my vessel.  The deck cover takes on its only tear throughout the entire journey and one of my running lights get snapped off.  This really sucks!  But I get around them.

When going around a small point is when it happens!

 In a matter of seconds, one, maybe two big waves crash on the boat and it is immediately swamped.  Now, just keep in mind, I have over 2000 dollars of tech equipment inside this craft now underwater (removed it prior to taking this photo, but it was this full at the time).  I quickly pull that out and throw it up over high tide line.  At this point this vessel weighs probably around 600 to 800 pounds, more?   I can't move it.  But I have to move it.  I take off the cover.

  
I remove all the other gear and toss it over the bank.  In a matter of 2 to 3 minutes the boat is becoming part of this beach with the sand eroding under it and it sinking into the beach.  I stand for a moment and take it in, This is serious, what now!  I realize I have to get the boat empty so I can move it.  If I let it here I will lose it to the incoming tide for sure.

I have a small bucket for packing out human waste.  Luckily it is empty.  I start to bail furiously, scolding this whole damn endeavor, saying things like I know better than to be out here, etc... plus a few words I can't write in here.  This works, I manage to bail out more than is coming in, when I think I have enough out, I jump to the other side and lift with everything I got.  I get it tipped over and it empties, except for a few pounds of sand, but at least I can move it.

The boat goes up and over high tide mark as well.  I start to realize I will not get out in daylight if at all if I remain going with this method with the canoe.  I give a call to Judith.  She is hanging out somewhere at the ferry.  I ask her to make her way towards something called "The Villas" and when I get somewhere I will ask them to explain to her where I am and how she can pick me up, without the canoe.  I can see a house and it should be an easy walk if I do not come across any other inlets.  This is the last call my trusty phone will ever make.

The house I see in the distance appears to be about a half mile or so.  I quickly access what I will need.  I transfer some gear so that I am only taking my one dry bag that has backpack straps.  All my tech stuff goes, in its own dry bag, a few extra clothes, my sandals for later.  I also make sure I have a headlamp and I take the tent fly, just in case something else not so good happens.  I strap down the remaining gear and tie the canoe off to a snag.  It is about 3:30 pm.

I am heading towards the house, after a few minutes I see a type of sea wall and think, *@$&!  There is one more inlet.  When I get closer, it is now at high tide by far the largest of the three, about 30 yards across.  I scramble up and over high tide line and start looking for another way out, what if I follow this inlet up, maybe it is shallower, less distance to the other side, a bridge up stream?  The swamp much sucks me in up to my shins, no good, this is not going to work.  Well, there is only one more thing to do.  SWIM!

I drop my pack, repack it so that it is rolled enough times to tighten the seal.  I also do not have my PFD  so I open my zipper on my drysuit and let it fill with air giving me more flotation.  Here we go, now do not feel bad for me at this point.  I am actually getting quite a rush from this.   I NEED TO SWIM TO SAFETY!  HOW COOL IS THAT!

I start wading out and then it is the final step, I am swimming.  It is a simple doggy paddle slowly forward, between the suit's air and the air in the dry pack I am very buoyant.  I do need to paddle across about 20 or so yards, gain my footing on the other side, and WA La!  Across.

Now I am making my way around the sea wall of the now seen vacant house and I come to the other side.  There seems to be a parking area/view area up ahead.  I see a white Ford Explorer.  Sure does look like Jude's.  As I get closer I dismiss it because she would have come out by now.  The sunset is awesome! As I get very near she pops out of the driver's door, it is her!  She was just driving around looking for a point where she could see the water to wait, what are the chances it would be right where I came out.  HOW COOL IS THAT!


Todd Bauman