Longleaf Pine Savannas, Saved by Fire

I'm annoyed with myself. Just over two years ago, I began reading about longleaf pine savannas after Kelvin Taylor, co-moderator of CarolinasAdventures and creator of ScenicNC.com, introduced us to this natural community during excursions to Howell Woods and Green Swamp. Since I was new to eastern North Carolina, and eager to learn about the variety of natural communities that exists on this side of the state, I intended to cover the subject in a blog post. I even sent Kelvin a list of questions to that end.

After a bit of effective procrastinating, I forgot about it.

A recent visit to Peachtree Rock Heritage Preserve in South Carolina reminded me of the subject. There, as at Howell Woods and so many other preserves, longleaf pine savannas are painstakingly being restored with the help of dedicated people and...fire?

Yep, fire. I grew up believing forests and fires are a bad combination, so I needed some convincing.

Fortunately, my questions and Kelvin's answers languished at the bottom of my inbox. After blowing off the dust that built up over the past two years, I pasted them below. Unfortunately, one reference is outdated, but the question still applies.

To start, what is a longleaf pine savanna? 

 

Savanna:
A flat grassland of tropical or subtropical regions.

Longleaf pine: Pinus palutris

So we can define a longleaf pine savanna as a flat grassland in which the dominant tree species is Pinus palutris. As with other forest ecosystems, there are regions or zones. When looking at a pineland savanna you see pines widely spaced over the landscape with an understory of other vegetation both woody and herbaceous. In NC, the dominant understory plant would be wiregrass.

What are the benefits of a longleaf pine savanna?

The savannas are unique habitats that prove homes for both plants like the venus flyptrap that do not survive in more woody (shady) conditions. Also the pine trees are home for nesting birds like the red-cockaded woodpecker and the eastern bluebird.

Who owns the savannas located in North Carolina, and what department oversees and protects those on public land?

Some savannas are owned by the Nature Conservancy and other protection organizations. Others are owned by the state (NC Forestry Service) as educational forest and/or parks (NC Park Service).

Where are longleaf pine savannas located?

In North Carolina, in the southeast coastal plain and Sandhills. They're also found in several states in the southeast including South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida.

The natural range of longleaf pine extends from southeastern Virginia to east Texas in a belt approximately 150 miles wide adjacent to the coasts of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. It dips as far south as central Florida and widens northward into west central Georgia and east central Alabama.

Today, the longleaf pine ecosystem covers less than 3.8 million acres. Once occupying ninety-two million acres of land from SE Virginia to east Texas, only 674,000 acres resemble the original ecosystems, a 99.3% reduction in area (Frost 1993).

According to the Carolinas Environmental Diversity Explorations website, 93% of the decline has occurred since pre-colonial days. Why?

Virtually all of the acreage is second growth, degraded by logging, turpentining, grazing, and disruption of the natural fire regime. Longleaf forests have been partly or wholly replaced on many of original longleaf sites by other pines and hardwoods due to suppression of fire and establishment of loblolly and slash pine plantations.

Development, highway construction, timber cutting, and drainage of surrounding land that effects the watertable also contributes to the decline.

How many longleaf pine savannas exist in North Carolina today?

I don’t have an answer. I know the acres number in the thousands.

Explain the role of fire in the survival of longleaf pine savannas.

Fire helps remove the hardwood trees and understory shrubs. Without fire, hardwood saplings would compete with the pines, shading out the grasses and other herbaceous plants in the savanna. Succession of a savanna absent fire is a shrubby pocosin.

How often should these savannas undergo a burning?

Under natural conditions this can occur every year or so. Sometime several times a year. Fire suppression has severely limited these necessary events.

Who performs these burnings?

On Nature Conservancy preserves, it’s done by members. On state or federal lands, the Forest Service is responsible.

From the Environmental Diversity website, I learned Camp Lejeune plays an important role of one longleaf pine savanna. What is that?

I think they manage a savanna on the military base by doing burns.

Howell Woods in Johnston County is an example of one longleaf pine savanna that is being restored to its natural state. Why restore it when burnings could possibly destroy plants and wildlife that have since made Howell Woods its home?

Most of the plants have adapted to burnings. Grasses for example, have deep root systems, which regenerate the leaves after a burn. The plants that belong in a longleaf pine savanna will return after a fire, so burns don’t really destroy the native species.

An article in the March (2008) issue of Our State Magazine states the Natural Heritage Preserve is in the process of inventorying plants and animals in natural communities throughout the state. This may present a conflict if endangered species are found in savannas scheduled to be restored. If this occurs, which will take precedent: the existing endangered species or the endangered habitat that plays host to endangered species?

This would not be an easy situation to solve. However, if a rare species is found in a restoration area, the protection of the species would supersede any changes to that particular ecosystem.

Thanks, Kelvin!

To learn more about longleaf pine savannas, go to www.learnnc.org/lp/editions/cede_longleaf/488

Also, consider reading Looking for Longleaf: The Rise and Fall of an American Forest by Lawrence S. Earley. Click on the Amazon link with confidence. I'm not set up to receive referral fees.

For a look at a recent prescribed burn, as they're called, check out these photos taken at the Fires of the Lakes festival at Boiling Springs Lake:

http://brunswick.blogs.starnewsonline.com/12465/scenes-from-fire-in-the-lakes-festival/?tc=ar

I'm now convinced controlled fires can actually benefit a forest, and after strolling around a few, I'm thankful.

Triangle Land Conservancy's Temple Flat Rock

If a land or nature conservancy obtains a certain property, there must be a good reason. Flower Hill has Catawba Rhododendron. Peachtree Rock Preserve in South Carolina has a unique pyramid-shaped rock resting on its point (yes, upside down!) A few weeks ago, CarolinasAdventures co-moderator, Kelvin Taylor, (KT) took eastern CA members to another Triangle Land Conservancy property, Temple Flat Rock in Wake County, to introduce us to the natural wonder there.

Our little band decided to meet on site, and after passing the narrow entrance, we finally found the dirt road that led to a small parking area. I'm sure that, under normal circumstances, this parking lot is more than sufficient, but two SUVs and two sedans made for a tight fit. After situating our vehicles, we began the hike.

Located on a rural parcel between Zebulon and Raleigh, to the untrained eye (mine), this TLC land looks like a large, overgrown meadow bordered by a mixed forest. We walked through the field, taking pictures of vetch and morning glorys, and generally exploring what we found. A deer blind stood near the trees, overlooking an area littered with corn cobs. Whether or not hunting is permitted to help manage the deer population, it served as a reminder to wear orange during hunting season.

But we weren't simply meandering through the woods. We were searching for the outcropping that gave Temple Flat Rock its name.

"A rock!" you say. "Splendid, Kimberli. Thanks for taking us along on this trip."

Not just a rock. Not just a flat rock. And certainly not just a very large flat rock that can be seen on Google Maps. As it turns out, this is yet another one of North Carolina's unique natural communities.

The queen of ecosystems I'm not, so to learn more about these Piedmont outcroppings, I turned to a couple of my resources: exploring north carolina's natural areas, and the ever intimidating, Classification of the Natural Communities of North Carolina (Third Approximation).

As it turns out, exploring has a section on "Rocks, Soils, and Plant Life in the Central Piedmont" (p 167). Here, I learned about the existence of geologic areas such as the Carolina Slate Belt, the Raleigh Belt, and the Triassic Belt, which contains "horizontal layer of rock". I found a map on the NC Dep't of Environment and Natural Resources site, but because of the size of the graphic, I'm unable to determine in which belt Temple Flat Rock is located.

It was in Classifications that I learned the horizontal rock and the plants that grow on them are a community referred to as Granitic Flatrock (p 104 printed version). The book speaks of the shallow soil, and the "distinct species" that live on the open rock areas. We saw examples of this in person when we finally found the flat outcropping. It was surprisingly large--easily as big as curved Governor's Rock on SC's Table Rock Mountain. A variety of lichens and moss grew on the rock and in areas where dirt has collected over time. KT seemed particularly amazed over one species of moss. But I had my sights on another plant.

I know little about rock outcroppings, but one thing I am aware of--where there's an outcropping, there's usually cactus. It didn't take long to find the first of several I would spot during our visit.

Why it grows around outcroppings, I don't know. I expect to find them in Texas and the southwest, not growing along rocks in North Carolina.

(Another mystery: the partially sunken, lone grave of Jonah Robertson, buried in 1966. We found it while searching for the outcropping and sheltering ourselves from a light sprinkling rain. Why was he buried here and where is his family? A quick search brought no answers.)

Unfortunately, the threat of more rain convinced us to leave our camera in the car (I snapped the last two photos with my phone), so we have few pictures from this portion of our trip. However, KT had his camera on hand. To see his photos and report, click on the following SCENIC NC blog post link:

http://scenicnc.blogspot.com/2009/09/enccaers-hike-to-temple-flat-rock.html

An added bonus: as CA's resident botanist, he can delve deeper into the mysteries of granitic flatrocks and the species that grow on them. But after visiting Temple Flat Rock, I feel safe in saying it's a wonderful example of this particular natural community, and I'm pleased the Triangle Land Conservancy is protecting it from people like me, who, unaware of its status and importance, would look at the rock, complain of its presence, and then take a bulldozer to it so I could claim the land.

On another note: You may recall that in an earlier post, I claimed I wouldn't go back in the woods until the bugs had died. I did so on this occasion because of the hope of seeing wildflowers that are once again blooming in abundance. I'm not a fan of chemicals, so I didn't use the bug spray in my pack, choosing instead to stay on the trail. MISTAKE! I had more chigger (aka red bug) bites and seed ticks than I could count or even find. If you go in the woods, please take appropriate measures as you're medically able to fend off these pests.

For more information on Temple Flat Rock, go to http://www.triangleland.org/lands/tlc/temple_property.shtml


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Copyright 2009. All Rights Reserved. Do not use or distribute.

Pungo Lake (Part II)

(To read Part I, click here)

Main Entry: po•co•sin*
Pronunciation: pah-KOH-sen (my spelling)
Etymology: probably from Virginia or North Carolina Algonquian
: an upland swamp of the coastal plain of the southeastern United States

Like Phelps Lake, Lake Mattamuskeet, Alligator Lake (aka, New Lake) and the three lakes in Croatan National Forest, Pungo Lake is a pocosin lake, which means it's surrounded by thickets consisting mainly of short bay trees and shrubs with Latin names I can't pronounce. To give it a decidedly southern touch, Magnolia virginiana, or Sweetbay magnolia, grows in the midst.

In addition to being a pocosin, and possibly a Carolina Bay (the lake is elliptical like a bay), the 12,000 acres of what's referred to as the Pungo Unit is also a haven for wintering waterfowl. Thousands of ducks, geese, and swans—and I mean about 50,000 more than the number that just popped in your head—winter at Pungo. I understand that during the warmer months, black bears can also be spotted when they leave the protective confines of the woods to feed.

That's why, when the Navy decided to build an Outlying Landing Field within miles of the Pungo Unit, coastal NC residents went berserk. And I mean berserk in a good way. A grassroot organization instantly sprang up to defend the waterfowl. NO OLF signs appeared in store windows and in front yards. The case went to court. After a long fight for the birds, the birds won. In January of 2008, the Navy changed its mind.

But I promise you, there's still some fancy flying going on out there:

As I mentioned in my previous post, we finally found the lake, but of course, we spotted only about a half dozen swans floating around. During an informative conversation with Gail and Steve, bird enthusiasts we met on the way to Pungo, we learned migrating waterfowl are all but gone by March. Along with a time frame to return next season, Gail suggested the best place to find those elusive snow geese is Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, located on the Outer Banks. Indeed, a month or so before this we'd spotted a couple of white feathered fowl floating around the marshes near the Pea Island Visitor's Center before rain sent us home. In a voice filled with a sadness I've come to understand, Gail told us the number of snow geese has diminished greatly over the past decade. Once they "were all over, and walking in the road". But no more.

We spent some time there, enjoying the lake despite the high winds that day, and chatting with Gail and Steve. Then we left to find the second access road I spotted through Google Earth. We found it, but it was "Closed for Research". Since it appears a sandbar extends into the lake at that point, we'll return later and check it out.

Other Pungo facts:

• Like the trails in the Alligator and Roanoke NWRs, a Charles Kuralt Trail kiosk has been erected in this refuge. We spotted it near the observation platform. I'm just learning about this trail system, but I did find a link to a website that explains what it is and why Mr. Kuralt's name is attached to it. For more information, go to http://www.northeast-nc.com/kuralt/
• From what I can ascertain, hunting is allowed on the refuge (state rules and regulations apply). However, I've yet to find anything that indicates boating is permitted. The lake is smaller than Phelps and Mattamuskeet, and access is limited. Because it's a pocosin, the water is shallow. A ranger at the National Wildlife Refuge office estimated the lake is, on average, six to eight feet deep. So if you're hoping to spend the day on the water, this may not be the right destination for you.
• According to The Natural Traveler: Along NC's Coast, the land was once owned by a commercial farming company. Remnants of their presence is visible in the grid of dirt roads and the deep canals running alongside them. While the roads are handy, the trip can be bumpy in dry weather, and deep and rutted when it's wet. Use caution. As the NC Birding Trail reminds visitors: if it's raining, you want want to reschedule your trip for another time. I would also suggest this to those considering a trip in the middle of the summer when NC bugs are out in full force.
  
• The presence of farms inside Pungo Unit may confuse you. After all, this is a national refuge. As I've recently learned, the farms are part of the sanctuary. Farmers are permitted to grow crops, but they must leave twenty percent of the harvest behind for refuge animals. I'm sure the birds love this. We spotted plenty of them feasting on fallen grain.

After spending time enjoying the scenery, looking for birds, and chatting, we said our goodbyes. Steve and Gail left to find New Lake (Alligator Lake on some atlases) and we followed the road alongside Pungo, photographing mallards and a few other duck species as we went. Wouldn't you know it, we ended up at the same spot we stopped at last fall.
But we found the lake, and that's what's important. Another good day along the ENC coast.

Pungo Lake is a great destinations for birders and naturalists. If you're interested in seeing the lake, especially during the winter, grab a good atlas and match it up to these basic directions:

From the west: Travel Hwy 264 to Pantego. Left on 99, Right on 45, Left on Hyde Park Canal. When the pavement ends, keep on going until you hit the lake. If the road is closed like it was on the day we visited, turn left on the dirt road, travel about two miles, then turn right at the refuge sign. Turn right again at the end of that dirt road, and when you reach the dirt intersection, turn left over the stone culvert that crosses over the canal and go until you hit the lake.
Yes, it can be that confusing. Again, use caution.

For more information on Pocosin National Wildlife Refuge, go to:
http://www.fws.gov/pocosinlakes/


* http://www.m-w.com/

The Search for Pungo (Part I)

I can't give up. Even if a bout of frustration causes me to quit, rarely can I stop all efforts to achieve a goal. So it wasn't a surprise when, after our original outing plans fell through last week, I pulled up Mappoint and Google Earth and set out to find an access point to Pungo Lake.

Twice last year we tried to find this obscure body of water, and twice we failed. Once, our GPS indicated it was beside the dusty road on which we stood. Having seen it as a destination in my exploring north carolina book, as well as other resources, I knew it had to have an entrance. But where? After zooming in and scooting the image left, right, up and down on both digital maps, I found two potential access points to the lake. I set the GPS for one and my iTouch maps app for the other.

And we found it: http://tinyurl.com/PungoEntrances (click on aerial).

Pungo Lake is part of the 110,000+ acre Pocosin National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge is nestled between Highways 99 and 94, moving south from Phelps Lake, and extending to New Lake (a.k.a. Alligator Lake). Need a visual to get your bearings? Click here for a map.

If the refuge name sounds familiar, think back to the North Carolina wildfires of 2008. The pocosin forest just north of Pungo caught fire, which burned deep into the peat that makes up the forest floor. Though the wildfire blanketed the state with thick smoke (and chased us to Richmond, Virginia) I recently learned that, like the longleaf pine forest, fire is beneficial to this natural community. Many plant species that exists in a pocosin thrive from it.

But that's another natural communities blog post. For now, let's continue down the road.

The refuge, and thus Pungo Lake, is located on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula. The large center "flap" on the coastal plains if you're looking at a map. On each of our visits, I'm struck by the order that now pervades a land once covered in tangled shrubs. Originally inhabited by Algonquin-speaking natives, and after years of rigorous taming, farmland, boxed off by deep ditches, creates a quilted look visible from plane windows or satellite images. Tilled rows lead the eye to a line of longleaf pines in the distance.

We had unexpected company on this trip. Following directions dished out by our GPS, we drove east on Hwy 264, then turned north on Hwy 99 in the heart of charming Pantego. After turning right onto Hwy 45, we spotted an impressive flock of large, white birds resting in the midst of winter wheat. Though we suspected we'd found more Tundra Swans--yet still hoping we'd found the elusive snow geese--we pulled off the road near a couple taking pictures beside a truck.

Yes, I have a picture, but I didn't know about it until we returned home. Therefore I didn't have a chance to secure permission to post it. Next time.

No one hauling kayaks and cameras on a Carolina trail is a stranger, so after taking pics of the *sighs* swans, we introduced ourselves to Steve and Gail, birders from the Durham area. Ironically, they were looking for Pungo.

They followed us, which, if you're a regular reading, you know isn't a good idea. Though I have maps galore and a good Carolina atlas, we often guess at a route or say "hey, I wonder where this goes". Apparently, my preparations and the routes we showed them on both machines convinced them we knew where we were going. Fortunately, it worked out this time (thank you, Lord) and before long, the four of us were standing on an observation platform staring at the gorgeous blue waters of Pungo Lake.

A Not Quite Stitched-Together View of Lake Pungo

Next Post: Pungo

Lake Waccamaw State Park

If you're walking in Dixie, the Carolinas in particular, you may be walking across a mystery. No, not an unmarked grave or Blackbeard's hidden treasure.

Well, you may be strolling over the treasure since no one knows where Blackbeard hid the stash. But I'm talking about a Carolina Bay.

Acre(s)-large, mostly elliptical, and predominantly situated northwest/southeast, Carolina Bays exist by the thousands below the Mason Dixon line and can be seen on aerial photos and satellite shots such as this Google Earth image:

Carolina Bays Have Made An Impression on Bladen County, NC

Named after the sweet-, red-, and loblolly bay trees that often grow in the sandy rims around these indentions, most bays are unnoticeable in everyday life unless you live in Bladen County, NC, which is home to nearly a thousand of them, or if you travel to Lake Waccamaw, the largest Carolina Bay in NC.

These geological marvels are a mystery to me, so I can't begin to explain the theories of their origin, common elements among bays, soil make up, efforts to restore them, etc. If you can't stand the not-knowing, I've provided several links to helpful resources at the bottom of this page. Hop on down there or stick around while I finally get to the subject of this post...

Lake Waccamaw State Park is located in southeast NC, southeast(ish) of Lumberton and west of Wilmington. Finding it is easy if you're not using a GPS. Our dear device tried to send us over dirt and gravel paths instead of perfectly acceptable paved roads. So if you're heading to Lake Waccamaw, compare your GPS's suggested route to an atlas, and follow the atlas if need be. If you don't have a GPS, North Carolina has provided excellent directions on their Lake Waccamaw State Park site at www.ncparks.gov/Visit/parks/lawa/directions.php

This attractive park offers the usual array of activities: picnicking, camping, fishing, and--to our immense pleasure--hiking. During this visit, we hiked at least four miles of the park's nine or so mile trail system, traversing primarily on sandy soil alongside the lake, under tattered Spanish moss. We stopped at the park's 375-foot pier, enjoyed the view, and then followed the Pine Woods Trail back to the Visitor's Center, where one can freshen up in clean restrooms.

Boating is an option as well, but ramps aren't available in the park. However, public access ramps are located nearby. NC Parks recommends contacting the Wildlife Resource Commission for more information.

In addition to the serene beauty and the knowledge of walking alongside a mysterious Carolina Bay, visitors to Lake Waccamaw may see wildlife including birds and alligators--seriously--and plantlife. Home to ancient cypress trees, the lake is at the edge of the biological preserve, Green Swamp. That in itself indicates botanical wonders, but the water holds another secret.

Bodies of water that originate in the coastal plains are black and acidic thanks to ubiquitous cypress trees. From my new acquisition, The Natural Traveler: Along North Carolina's Coast, we learned a limestone outcropping along the northern shore gives the waters of Lake Waccamaw a near neutral pH. As a result, unusual aquatic and plant life exist in this area, the latter of which may be visible along the trail. That new fact calls for more research--and a return trip with fellow CarolinasAdventurers.

For more information on Lake Waccamaw's unique ecology, visit http://www.ncparks.gov/Visit/parks/lawa/ecology.php

As usual with the waters of the coast, the recommended method of exploring is by kayak or canoe. So if you have either, take a trip to Lake Waccamaw and, as The Natural Traveler recommends, consider exploring the Waccamaw River while you're there. We've yet to venture into either method of water exploration, but soon. Very soon.

Below is a slideshow of a few pictures we took on this trip. No show-stoppers, but it's a decent journal of what we saw. For more information on Lake Waccamaw and the Carolina Bays, check out the links at the end of this post.

Lake Waccamaw
http://org.elon.edu/geo/waccamaw.htm

Carolina Bays
www.fws.gov/seweecenter/text/carolinabays.pdf
www.ces.clemson.edu/scmaps/manual/pdfmanual/chap8.pdf
Nature Conservancy Carolina Bay Preserves

Bay Images:

http://abob.libs.uga.edu/bobk/cbaymbm.jpg
http://www.ces.clemson.edu/semaps/nc/cbay.html
http://abob.libs.uga.edu/bobk/cbaymbsc.html

Currituck Banks and Jockey's Ridge State Park

For the past year, we've been exploring eastern NC from the Fall Zone to the shores just off the Outer Banks. We've learned quite a bit during our outings. However, drawing on a quote I once read (the author of which I cannot remember) we've been jumping from parapet to parapet, and after a year of this, it was time to slow down and explore the castle's nooks and crannies.

We recently attempted to do that with a trip to Currituck Banks. It's a three and a half hour drive for us, so to maximize our time, we drove up on a Thursday evening and spent the night in Kitty Hawk. Depending on the hotel, the rates are fabulous on the Outer Banks right now, and we snagged a room for less than seventy dollars using our AAA discount.

The goal for this trip: explore Currituck National Wildlife Refuge and see the wild horses that roam the northern tip of the Outer Banks. Easier said. Hwy 12 ends at a beach, which is the entrance for the refuge. I presumed the sand would be packed down because this is the only way into the refuge and people have been driving on it for years.

Wrong. The sand is soft and deeply rutted, and after dishing out over a hundred dollars to fix our four wheel drive after the Mattamuskeet incident, Kelley was a bit nervous about attempting an off-road expedition. We gave it a shot, though. But when the ruts got deeper (and without our CarolinasAdventure posse there to push if we got stuck) we turned around.

The good news: various tours are available. I'd checked out the Jeep tours but they were too expensive for our current budget. Kayaking, and guided van tours are also available. This place is worth exploring, so we intend to return in the spring and take one of those tours.

Once back on paved ground, we stopped at the Currituck Banks National Estuarine Research Reserve, located within a few steps of the refuge's beach entrance. I'd read about this place in The Natural Traveler: Along North Carolina's Coast and knew we'd find a .33 mile boardwalk through the maritime forest that grows along the Outer Banks. Not what we had in mind but it would do.

To our delight, halfway down the boardwalk we found a mile and a half (round trip) nature trail that leads into a forest consisting predominantly of wax myrtle and live oaks, transitioning to pine near the water. The live oaks in this forest are amazing. Long, thin arms rest their elbows on the ground and then twist imploringly into the sky. The trunked sculptures stretched outward throughout the woods, pushing back other trees and providing space that allowed the winter light to shine through.

Blue blazes mark the trail. Note, we believe at least one sign is missing at a turn, and it gets a bit confusing in this area. If this happens to you, stop or backtrack if you can and look carefully. You should spot the blue-tipped stick a bit further down the path.

While enjoying the walk through the quiet forest, we came upon a pile of horse excrement. This often happens along a trail so I didn't think anything of it. By the forth pile, I finally caught on. Be still my Carolina heart, the wild horses roam through that area! Unfortunately, we didn't see any while hiking, or at the end of the trail where it meets Currituck Sound, but we saw plenty of evidence of their existence in that area.

After finishing that trail, we continued down the boardwalk to the observation platform overlooking marshes, Currituck Sound, and Monkey Island. The Estuarine is a good example of several types of natural environments: maritime forest, transitional forest, swamp, and marsh. From Natural Traveler, I learned North Carolina has four types of marshes: freshwater, brackish water, high saltwater and low saltwater. The marsh of Currituck Sound is an example of a low marsh, which floods daily with the tides. No wonder it's a research area!

Next, we made a quick stop at Currituck Lighthouse, situated in historic Corolla Village. After moving to ENC, I learned the four lighthouses of the OBX are similar in design, down to the wood and stone pilings they're built on. They're painted with different patterns so approaching mariners could distinguish one from the other. The Lighthouse Board left Currituck au naturale. The theory is this was to avoid having to paint it in the future. It was a good decision. Though built in 1875, Currituck is an attractive structure.

With time on our hands after not exploring the refuge, we made an unexpected stop at Jockey's Ridge, located in Nags Head. With its desert ambiance, tall dunes, wildlife that often roams the sand, and sparse vegetation, this destination deserves its own blog post. But more research and another visit is needed before I can attempt that. For now, I'll say that though around four hundred and twenty acres, the park is larger than I expected. Kelley hiked on while I stopped and took pictures, and at times, he was a speck atop the sand. Can you spot him in this photo?

At the top of that ridge, we were treated to a breathtaking view of a shaft of sunlight slicing across Currituck Sound. That view along with the 360 perspective makes the effort worth the climb. This being the highest spot, I assume it's also used for hang gliding and sandboarding, which are permissible under certain circumstances. The park has a hang gliding school, but I'll save that for the next post.

There are two "trails" at Jockey's Ridge: the one-mile Soundside Natural Trail, and the one-and-a-half mile Tracks in the Sand. But with all that sand, it's hard to tell exactly where the path is. We simply walked toward our destination.

As an added bonus, Jockey's Ridge runs perpendicular to the path of the sun and the shifting shadows along the dunes would make for some interesting photography in the early morning or late in the afternoon. Yes, we're definitely going back.

All in all a decent day despite not seeing the Outer Bank ponies.

So whether you're looking for a vacation spot or a nice getaway, the northern tip of the Outer Banks around Nags Head and Corolla is a great place to go. There's much to see and in the low season, hotel prices can be quite reasonable. Hope to see you there.

Outer Banks: An Overview

I've been procrastinating.

For months now, I've put off sharing a destination we first visited in December of last year and again this past May. Part of my problem has been determining the scope of what I should discuss. Our first trip to the Outer Banks (henceforth referred to as the OBX) encompassed the outskirts of Nags Head to Salvo and the second, from Kitty Hawk to Ocracoke. That's a lot of ground to cover. A lot of dunes, concurrent views of sound and sea. A lot of natural habitats to explore, outdoor recreation to draw your attention to, and oh, well you get the picture. Though harrowingly narrow in some places, the OBX is a lot of everything.

So I didn't cover anything.

But the time has come, so, after twittling with words for a couple of days, I've decided--like so many of our trips--to take off and see where we end up.

The Outer Banks

It wasn't our intent last winter to visit this North Carolina treasure. Our original goal was Edenton and Roanoke Island, but on our way to the second stop, a sign informed us Nags Head was a mere twenty miles away. How could we pass it up? So passing up the many attractions awaiting us at the site of the famous Lost Colony, we drove to the eastern edge of the United States and turned right. And to our delight, we were on the Outer Banks.

I'd heard about the OBX, but I knew little beyond what people had told me, that it's a great outdoor destination. If you look at a map of North Carolina, it's the sharp edge, the lip liner if you will, along the NC coast that juts to a point before scooping back to the mainland. Since our visit, I've learned it's more than that and I feel wholly inadequate to cover this fragile ecosystem/tourist destination. You'll understand why as you read.

The chain of islands known as the OBX begins around the Virginia/NC border, but I'm having trouble determining where it ends. Some sources say Ocracoke. Others include as far south as Bogue Banks. Personally, I include the entire archipelago from the Virginia border to Shackleford Island since I cannot see a difference between the northern section and the southern. NC may revoke my citizenship for that, but sorry, it's all breathtakingly beautiful to me.

Once on the OBX, one of the first things that struck me was the width. Though 175 miles long according to Encyclopedia.com (another source says 200 mi, see dispute listed above), it's narrow, earning it the nickname "Ribbon of Sand". Encyclopedia.com places the width at one mile or less and indeed, in some places, we saw both sound and ocean in the same glance:

See the touch of water on the upper right of the photo?

Since our first visit, I've learned more about the OBX (though not nearly enough.) First from a PBS documentary titled Ribbon of Sand, and then from various sources such as my copy of Coastal North Carolina: Its Enchanting Islands, Towns, and Communities. Enough to form a decent overview. Unfortunately, it's complicated, but I'll try to explain.

Think of long, thin islands, stretched in a line and joined together by bridges in some places, and by ferries in others.1 On the west side lay wide sounds. On the east, the Atlantic Ocean, and along some of its edges, swirling sandbars (shoals) visible on satellite photos but not to approaching ships. Traveling down Hwy 12 alongside tall dunes and under a sphere of blue sky gives you a feeling of freedom. You open the car window and take in the breeze and the view of herons walking dapperly in shallow waters.

You reach Rodanthe (ro-danth-ee, yes of Nicholas Sparks fame), see dozens of three story beach houses and you want to stay, but you travel on to Hatteras where you're delighted by the spiral banded lighthouse stretching regally into the sky and by boats drizzling through the water. You sit on the beach, hidden from civilization by an undisturbed dune and lay back in the sand, releasing a sigh of contentment. After a ferry ride to Ocracoke, Blackbeard's headquarters and the place of his infamous demise, you dine on local seafood, listening to tales of the pirate's ghost and wonder why you ever competed in the rat race.

That's one side of the OBX. Another is the dynamic, fragile environment. The ever-shifting coastline that's slowly eroding from waves, hurricanes, and development, which forced conservators to move the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse further inland.

The OBX has an extensive estuary system and such, hosts migratory birds. But it's also home to thousands of people whose livelihoods depend on tourism. Because of its compact width, man and nature must live together, and often, the needs of one clashes with the other. This past summer, authorities closed off several areas along the OBX because endangered birds were nesting, thus endangering businesses already hurting from high gas prices.

Saving one's job versus putting a near extinct bird in the air. Tough call. One I couldn't make.

There's more. Oh so much more. But I hope this gives you an adequate glimpse of the Outer Banks, its fragility, and its must-see beauty. In my next post, I'll discuss the lighthouses we saw this past year. The rest I'll have to cover in posts as we're able to return for additional visits. But I doubt I'll master all things OBX, there's too much to learn.

But I'll try.

For now, if you'd like more information on the OBX, go to http://www.outerbanks.org/

Also, check out UNC's book, Ribbon of Sand.

Post Script:

If you decide to travel to the Outer Banks, for land's sake, read my post on the Ferry schedule before you go. It may keep you from getting stuck on Ocracoke Island overnight and spending the night with a few OBX ghosts!
1. Coastal North Carolina: Its Enchanting Islands, Towns, and Communities (Pineapple Press) Pg 1

NC's Natural Communities, Part II: Lake Mattamuskeet

According to the University of North Carolina's, Documenting the South, John Lawson arrived near Bath, NC on February 24, 1701.1 Shortly after, he built a home near modern day New Bern. Since Mr. Lawson intended to survey the Carolinas, I can only believe he found his way to Lake Mattamuskeet, located just northeast of New Bern, across the Pamlico Sound. In his journal, A New Voyage to Carolina, he makes a reference to "(swans) which come in great Flocks in the Winter".2

It must have been a sight to behold. It is today. This past spring, a member of my hiking group mentioned the snow geese swirling over Mattamuskeet at sunrise and since then, I haven't been able to get that mesmerizing image out of my mind. Eastern NC CarolinasAdventurers discussed a January outing, but I couldn't wait. A week after visiting Green Swamp, my husband and I were standing on the shores of North Carolina's largest natural lake.

Over five miles wide, like Phelps and Pungo (also located on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula) Lake Mattamuskeet is shallow, on average, just two feet deep.3 According to exploring north carolina's natural areas, it's also the largest Pocosin lake in the southeast United States.4 If you've seen a map of North Carolina, you've seen this lake—it looks like a hole punched out in the bottom of the raggedy middle flap of NC's coast.

Finding Mattamuskeet wasn't hard. We traveled east on Hwy 264 until we reached Hwy 94, then we turned left. Thankfully (for us, not the birds) this highway slices north-south through the center of the lake. We parked on a grassy shoulder a mile down the road and were promptly blown away. Hundreds of brown ducks that we mistook as broken wood or the bases of trees drifted in the shallow water near the shore. Shortly after, they took flight.

Beauty makes me weep, and the sight of that large flock flowing gracefully through the sky before us nearly brought me to tears. Only the unequivocal joy surging through me as I watched them and several herons lounging nearby kept the brine at bay.

Fifty-two pictures later, we resumed our journey, and for the next hour we observed and photographed more waterfowl than I've seen at one time: Blue Herons. White Herons. Canada Geese and a long stretch of birds floating a mile down the lake captivated us. We stopped at the observation pier, located near the midpoint of the road, and watched Tundra swans floating past an island of cypress trees, its knobby knees sticking up like a bed of nails. I jerked the car off the side of the road at my husband's command when we spotted herons perched in a tree. We photographed a clutch of herons standing in still waters, their reflections as clear and defined as the birds themselves. We continued on until hunger forced us to find food. 

Mattamuskeet is a must for bird and nature enthusiast, and anyone who loves beauty. And there's more to explore than what we saw. If you view the lake through Google Earth, you can see a jetty or boardwalk jutting into the water on the east side, and several small islands on the west. We'll have another chance, though. We still have that January outing, and I wouldn't be surprised if we slipped back there in December. Wouldn't you?

NC's Natural Communities, Part I: Green Swamp

I sometimes wonder what John Lawson saw when he made his way up from "Charles Town" (Charleston) to survey the Carolinas in 1700. To my understanding, he would have been privy to the sight of herds of buffalo (not us) roaming through pillows of golden grasses typical of the longleaf pine savannas that blanketed the region. Rivers and creeks filled with inky water cutting swaths though the soft sand. Untamed clumps of brambles and bushes the natives called Pocosins. Depending on the time of year, fields of Pink Lady Slippers or sunflowers gently rocking in the wind. What did he think when he saw thousands of ducks, geese and majestic swans swirling over wide, shallow lakes, or when he watched a blue heron glide over golden marshes in a silence broken only by the croaking of frogs or the call of the now extinct Carolina Parakeet?

We got a glimpse of a small portion of what he may have seen last week when we visited Green Swamp and again yesterday when we visited Lake Mattamuskeet on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula. And oh what a sight we saw.

Those passing by Green Swamp, located in the southeastern most region of North Carolina, may think they were looking at a scraggly woods in need of development. What looks like overgrown grass grows beneath tall, longleaf pine trees spread generously apart. But the too-small area is what the Nature Conservancy calls "the country’s finest examples of longleaf pine savannas."

Five members of CarolinasAdventures hiking group met in the parking lot off Green Swamp Road and for the next several hours, roamed through the savanna (pun intended) with resident botanist, Kelvin Taylor pointing out flowers, the tangled thickets of the Pocosin, an area he called Ecological succession (the gradual replacement of one community by another) sterile pine tree trees in that area--hence the reason for the succession--and more. I always enjoy these outing. In addition to great company, we always learn something that helps us better appreciate North Carolina's natural communities and the efforts to preserve them. And they're in desperate need of preservation. Poachers and development are slowly eating away at these resources. A multitude of Venus Flytraps and pitcher plants once grew in abundance. Now, we had to search carefully to find a few of the flytraps and a delicate flower that I love, the Grass of Parnassus.

I'm not a botanist so I can't address the importance of the longleaf pine savanna to nature and to North Carolina, but I do know it's part of this state's past, it's a refuge for rare and common species, and it can teach us about plant life and this type of ecosystem. In addition to our little band, a group of students were visiting Green Swamp that day and we had the chance to overhear the instructor point out various parts of the plant life they studied. In doing so, this instructor is helping to preserve Green Swamp for the future. I'm sure John Lawson would have been pleased.

For more information on Green Swamp, click here to access the Nature Conservancy's site. To learn about the effects poaching on Green Swamp and similar habitats, go to www.nature.org/magazine/winter2006/misc/art19274.html

(KT, thanks for the link. Your timing couldn't have been better.)

Photos of this trip are in the previous post. Click here to view.

Next: The Birds of Lake Mattamuskeet