Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November-December 2015

Home , Frontenac State Park, Sakatah Lake State Park

DEPARTMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES NOVEMBER–DECEMBER 2015

The Sense of Place Issue Contents

Minnesota Conservation Volunteer, November–December 2015 Volume 78, Number 463

features

4 A Funny Thing hAppened SPOTLIGHT 75 The creative mind behind the cartoons that appeared in MCV from 1993 to 2010 discusses his inspiration and shares a few reader favorites. By Tom Dickson

6 explore An AncienT lAndscApe A DNR ecologist introduces readers to southeastern Minnesota’s incredible diversity of plant and animal species. By Hannah Texler

16 lAunching inTo Wild rice After years of following wild rice harvesters, a researcher embarks on her own annual ritual. By Annette Dray Drewes

26 leT nATure Be your TeAcher Botanical illustration requires artists to develop a deep understanding of the plants they depict. By Nancy Sather

38 The shy BeAr In the north woods, black bears face many dangers. Young Naturalists learn how one bear outlived all others. By Dave Garshelis

50 The Woods A place of childhood discovery remains a wild sanctuary. By Nan Roberts

62 AncienT cooking A naturalist unearths a tasty experiment. By Jim Cummings

68 leTTers SPOTLIGHT 75 Readers Pauline Danforth and Evan Hazard share nature stories.

72 priming The pump A poem for those who thirst to wander in autumn. By Larry Gavin see more online: go to www.mndnr.gov/mcvmagazine. Wolsfeld Woods PHOTOGRAPH BY JIM BRANDENBURG

Cover: Root River valley sunset OIL PAINTING BY SARA LUBINSKI

Its past history and continuing changes

make Wolsfeld Woods a fascinating place to

contemplate the intricate

relationships of the wild world with the

human world. —Evelyn Moyle The Minnesota Volunteer, May–June 1980

departments 2 This issue 71 AnnuA l index

Minnesota Conservation Volunteer (usps 129880) is published bimonthly by the Department of Natural Resources, 500 Lafayette Road, St. Paul, MN 55155- 4046. Preferred periodicals postage paid in St. Paul, Minn., and additional offices. A total of 123,963 copies of the Sept.-Oct. 2015 issue was printed. In the past 12 months, an average of 111,865 copies of each issue was published. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Minnesota Conservation Volunteer, Department of Natural Resources, 500 Lafayette Road, St. Paul, MN 55155-4046. Equal opportunity to programs of the Department of Natural Resources is available to all individuals regardless of race, color, national origin, sex, sexual orientation, age, or disability. Discrimination inquiries should be sent to DNR Affirmative Action, 500 Lafayette Road, St. Paul, MN 55155-4031, or the Equal Opportunity Office, Department of the Interior, Washington, DC 20240. For alternative formats, call 651-259-5365. Minnesota Conservation Volunteer is sent on request and relies entirely on donations from its readers. Printed on chlorine-free paper containing at least 10 percent post-consumer waste. © Copyright 2015, State of Minnesota, Department of Natural Resources. Permission from the publisher is required to reproduce or transmit in any form or by any means. This issue GLACIAL LAKES STATE PARK BY GARY ALAN NELSON BY GARY PARK STATE LAKES GLACIAL A Sense of Time I have a black-and-white photograph landscapes—through an ecologist’s tour of of my infant self with my maternal great- the blufflands, a harvester’s time on wild grandmother, grandfather, and mother. rice waters, and a child’s-eye view of a patch Looking at the four generations, I have always of Big Woods surviving in the suburbs. thought of the scene as most momentous for Stories can connect us across time and Great-Grandma. If you count her parents and bring home our relationships to place. In grandparents, her life spanned six genera- September I received a vivid demonstrations. Survival is the natural inclination of tion of this. Two of my maternal cousins living things. Looking back over the years is organized a weekend family heritage tour the propensity of humans. in west-central Minnesota. Our base camp All year we’ve been celebrating the long was the big back yard of cousin Kim and life of this magazine, shining a spotlight her husband, Myron. There we cousins on the past. This last issue of Minnesota bunked in a semicircle of ice-fishing houses Conservation Volunteer’s 75th year high- and 1950s-vintage campers. We set up 15 lights a retro cartoon collection and two camp chairs around the fire ring and started readers’ reminiscences. You’ll learn about telling family tales as the sun went down. the world’s oldest black bear, the nation’s Saturday morning at 9, Kim and her sister oldest public wildflower garden, and an Pam corralled us into a motor home. With ancient way of cooking. This Sense of Place Myron at the wheel, we took off to redis- issue invites you to also contemplate native cover remnants of our past.

2 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer To orient us, Pam read from a tour script written by her mother, our aunt Ramona. At each stop, Pam read another family story, often funny and tender, sometimes sad. First stop: the Brooten bakery, where our grandmother A reader-supported magazine encouraging conservation and sustainable use of worked for decades—waiting on customers, kneading Minnesota’s natural resources. bread, frying doughnuts, sweeping flour-dusted floors. Magazine Staff The man at the counter looked stunned when a dozen Editor in Chief Kathleen Weflen women piled out of the RV and lined up to buy old- Art Director Lynn Phelps Managing Editor Keith Goetzman fashioned doughnuts. My sister told a local customer that Online Editor Michael A. Kallok we were Eleanor Kjeldahl’s grandchildren. With tears in Database Manager David J. Lent Circulation Manager Susan M. Ryan her eyes, the woman said, “Oh, Eleanor … she was such a hard worker.” Subscriptions and donations From there, we rolled on, past Sedan Brook Prairie 888-646-6367 Scientific and Natural Area—which preserves a rare piece Governor Mark Dayton of native prairie amid farmland—to Big Grove Lutheran Church and cemetery. Next, we headed to Grove Lake, Department of Natural Resources a family fishing favorite. Along the way, we paused by a stretch of flat, marshy land, but we saw no trace of the farm- stead where Grandma and her brothers grew up. We stopped for a picnic lunch in Terrace near the Chip- www.mndnr.gov pewa River dam and millpond, where my family sometimes Our mission is to work with citizens to fished. Dad once jumped into the pond to fish out my little conserve and manage the state’s natural sister, who had cast her line so enthusiastically that she fell resources, to provide outdoor recreation opportunities, and to provide for commercial in. Now a historic district, Terrace Mill retains evidence uses of natural resources in a way that of long-ago visitors and inhabitants: Dakota and Ojibwe creates a sustainable quality of life. people and Scandinavian settlers. On the Glacial Ridge Trail Scenic Byway, watching hawks Commissioner Tom Landwehr cruise over rolling glacial hills, cousins commented on the Deputy Dave Schad beauty of the land and sky. At the public access on Lake Commissioner Assistant Barb Naramore Linka, where we swam as kids, we took off our shoes and Commissioners Bob Meier socks, rolled up pants legs, and waded into the clear, shallow Sarah Strommen water with the minnows and snails. At each site visited, we wished we could linger a while Communications Director Chris Niskanen longer, soaking up a sense of that place. But every story Division Directors Luke Skinner, Ecological and Water Resources must end. Here’s how Aunt Ramona wrapped up her recol- Ken Soring, Enforcement lections for us: “So remember … everyone has a story. Go Ed Boggess, Fish and Wildlife Forrest Boe, Forestry out and tell yours.” Jess Richards, Lands and Minerals As we saw on our tour, and as you’ll find in this issue, Laurie Martinson, Operation Services every landscape also has a story to impart. Like ancestors, Erika Rivers, Parks and Trails our natural heritage has lessons for us if we listen. Regional Directors Kathleen Weflen, editor, [email protected] Greg Nelson, Bemidji Lori Dowling-Hanson, Grand Rapids Dennis Frederickson, New Ulm Keith Parker, St. Paul November–December 2015 3 Spotlight 75

“The ice auger? I thought you had it.” A Funny Thing Happened I remember the call from editor Kathleen up with something funny that didn’t of- Weflen: “The commissioner [Rod Sando] fend anyone. My solution was usually wants to see more humor in the Volunteer. to make fun of myself—like my inepti- Would you be interested in doing a car- tude or bad luck in outdoors activities. toon for us in each issue?” I was no Gary Larson, but a few times I’d At the time, I was a DNR staff writer and visit someone’s house and see one of my frequently wrote for the magazine. Secretly cartoons taped to the refrigerator. For a I’d always wanted to be a cartoonist, so I cartoonist, that’s the ultimate. jumped at the chance. From 1993 to 2010, Shown here are four pieces that readers I drew roughly 100 cartoons for the Letters have told me are among their favorites. If page. (I retired after moving to Montana to you want to see more, visit the Letters sec- become editor of Montana Outdoors.) tion of any issue from 1993 to 2010 in the The challenge with drawing a cartoon MCV archive at mndnr.gov/mcvmagazine. for a state agency publication was to come —Tom Dickson

4 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer “Those are not the type of people you tell your ‘first time I skinned a raccoon’ story to.”

“Certainly I still pray for guidance, but it’s nice to have a GPS as backup.”

“So tell us, how long have you had beavers?”

November–December 2015 5 By Hannah Texler Oil paintings courtesy of Sara Lubinski

Explore an Ancient Landscape To discover the species richness here, look deep into valleys and high on ridges.

6 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer

When I think about of neighboring Wisconsin, Iowa, and Il- southeastern Minnesota, visions of tower- linois. Together, these 18 million acres are ing bluffs, valleys filled with spring wild- called the Paleozoic Plateau. It is underlain flowers, and winding coldwater streams by layers of bedrock that formed over 400 come to mind. So imagine the disconnect million years ago under a vast sea. After I experienced when I saw a greeting card the sea receded, streams—which eventu- that showed a cartoonish map with sym- ally became the Mississippi River and its bols illustrating different parts of the state: tributaries—carved into the bedrock and All of southern Minnesota was represent- created a hilly, dissected landscape. Much ed with an ear of corn. How could this be? of the bedrock underlying the landscape I am determined to set the record is composed of limestone and dolomite. straight. As an ecologist with the Depart- Acidic water, formed when precipitation ment of Natural Resources, I want to share combines with carbon dioxide, shapes the beauty, the diversity, and the wonder these rocks into caves, sinkholes, and that I have found during several years of underground drainage, creating a type biological surveys in this lovely region. of landscape known as karst. If geography and ancient history ruled, The Paleozoic Plateau was largely missed southeastern Minnesota would probably by the last glaciers to move across the state. be a separate state combined with parts So instead of being covered by glacial

8 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Previous pages: Blufftop prairie overlooking the For example, in Minnesota the timber river is protected by a conservation easement. Left: rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus) is found White camass (Zigadenus elegans) and harebell only in the Paleozoic Plateau, but this (Campanula rotundifolia) grow in Richard J. species ranges more widely throughout Dorer Memorial Hardwood State Forest. eastern North America in appropriate habitats. The blufflands provide the ideal sediments like most of the rest of Minne- mix of habitats for these snakes—forests sota, this rugged, ancient landscape is still and prairies for summer habitat and rock visible today. outcrops for winter dens. Also referred to as the blufflands, the Some rare aquatic species are at the driftless area, and coulee country, this is a northern edge of their range in southeast- landscape at once majestic and intimate, ern Minnesota. One is the crystal darter ranging from vertical cliffs and wide vis- (Crystallaria asprella), a small, pale- tas to narrow valleys, winding creeks, yellow fish of large clear streams with and a myriad of different habitat niches. moderate to swift currents. For a handful A walk in the blufflands always offers of rare species, the blufflands are key to surprises, and often they are of the faunal survival: Seven rare species of flora and or floral variety, because the biological fauna have their primary range here in diversity here is higher than in any other special habitat conditions. For example, part of the state. Minnesota’s endangered, glade mallow (Napaea dioica) is a tall, threatened, and special concern species summer-blooming floodplain plant that list includes 189 plant and animal spe- is endemic to the region, meaning it is cies that reside here. The region also has found nowhere else in the world. the highest number of animal species in Bedrock bluff prairie is also known as greatest conservation need in the state. goat prairie because its extreme steep- ness seems best suited for goats to climb. Topography and Geography. Why is This unique blufflands habitat occurs on this relatively small region of the state south- to west-facing slopes, where hot, so packed with diversity? Part of the an- dry conditions slow the growth of trees swer lies in its varied topography—steep and shrubs. Fires historically helped to slopes, floodplains, groundwater dis- keep these areas open and dominated by charge areas, high ridgetops, and cliffs. more than 200 species of native grasses These landscape features support native and wildflowers. plant communities specially adapted to Two rare wildflowers exhibit some thrive under those conditions. of the complexity of blufflands habitats. Another factor is Minnesota’s position Plains wild indigo (Baptisia bracteata var. at the northwestern edge of North Amer- glabrescens) is a spring-blooming species ica’s Eastern Broadleaf Forest Province. adapted to dry conditions. Its pale-yellow Many of the rare species found here are flowers attract queen bumblebees, im- rare in the state because they are at the portant pollinators on these bluffs. Vale- western or northern edge of their range. rian (Valeriana edulis var. ciliata), a rare

November–December 2015 9 The rising sun illuminates a wetland in the Root River valley in early September near Houston. Despite many environmental threats, the blufflands harbor greater biological diversity than any other part of the state.

wildflower often found in shallow wet- the goat prairies. Red oak, white oak, bur lands on calcium-rich soils, also grows in oak, and shagbark hickory are some of the bedrock bluff prairies. The growing con- characteristic trees of these fire-dependent ditions on the blufftops are calcium-rich forest communities. because of the limestone bedrock and moist in some areas because groundwa- Shady and Moist. On cool north- to ter is close to the surface. east-facing slopes and on narrow valley Wooded slopes and ridgetops surround floors along streams and seeps, a variety

10 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer The rising sun illuminates a wetland in the Root River valley in early September near Houston. Despite many environmental threats, the blufflands harbor greater biological diversity than any other part of the state.

of forest plant communities endure. Mesic Before tree buds unfurl in spring, a hardwood forests are dominant, with can- visit rewards the hiker with carpets of opies of sugar maple, basswood, red oak, spring-ephemeral wildflowers, such as and often white pine, especially on rocky white trout lily (Erythronium albidum) upper slopes. Here, cool, shady conditions and spring beauty (Claytonia virginica). make fires much less frequent. Thick lay- The diminutive white-flowered squirrel ers of leaf litter break down to build up corn (Dicentra canadensis) is a spring deep, loamy soils rich in nutrients. ephemeral found nowhere else in the

November–December 2015 11 state. Look for it in Forestville/Mystery big rivers, including the Mississippi Cave State Park or Frontenac State Park. and major tributaries such as the Root, By summer, the ground is covered by Zumbro, Whitewater, Cannon, and Ver- many of the 40 species of ferns that oc- million rivers. Their floodplains hold cur in the blufflands and later-blooming marshes and sedge meadows, as well wildflowers such as zigzag goldenrod as floodplain forests dominated by sil- (Solidago flexicaulis), wild geranium (Ge- ver maple, green ash, cottonwood, river ranium maculatum), and red baneberry birch, and swamp white oak. (Actaea rubra). The floor of mesic hard- More than 150 bird species breed wood forests features blooming plants in or migrate through the floodplain from early spring to late fall. habitats. Nearly half of North America’s songbirds and 40 percent of its water- Cool Crevices in Summer. Higher up fowl spend at least part of their lives the slopes in the coolest, rockiest val- in the Mississippi flyway. Bright-blue leys, habitat remnants from the last ice cerulean warblers (Setophaga cerulea), age persist. Here, ice from winter lingers brilliant yellow-orange prothonotary war- in crevices in the limestone bedrock well blers (Protonotaria citrea), and soaring into summer. Air moving through these red-shouldered hawks (Buteo lineatus) are fissures in the rocks is cooled and slowly some of the birds at the western edge of melts the ice. Where cool air and icy wa- their range here. ter emerge, thick moss carpets and other northern plants grow. Balsam fir, Canada Vanished Connections. The habitat yew, and the endangered Iowa golden types that once dominated southeastern saxifrage (Chrysosplenium iowense) occur Minnesota and connected all of the bluffs in these places. These northern plants are has today virtually disappeared. A once- remnants from 10,000 years ago when the continuous mosaic of savanna, forest, climate was colder and these species were and prairie thrived here. Oak savanna much more common. and tallgrass prairie covered the uplands Tiny Pleistocene-aged snails, dependent above the steep slopes. Deep, rich soils, on the continuous presence of cold air, re- created by prairie grasses and wildflow- side on many of these slopes. One federally ers over thousands of years, have nearly threatened plant species, Leedy’s roseroot all been turned into croplands, leaving (Rhodiola integrifolia ssp. leedyi), is known fragmented islands of native habitat. from only seven places in the world—four Before European settlement, bluff- of them on these persistently cold cliffs in top fires burned across oak savanna and Olmsted and Fillmore counties. prairie, often reaching woodlands below. These cliffs and slopes are extremely frag- This natural process rejuvenated native ile places—one misstep could send rocks grasses and forbs and created openings and snails and plants tumbling downhill. for oak regeneration. Another impact to Another mosaic of native plant com- bluffs in recent decades came from graz- munity types resides along the region’s ing cattle, sheep, and goats. Now, with fires

12 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer suppressed, grazing continuing, and row crops prominent, eroding topsoil tumbles down steep slopes, often leaving deep ruts and many feet of sediment on valley floors. Many floodplains have also been con- verted to croplands. Perhaps this altered landscape is the reason for the greeting- card artist’s perception that the area is all corn. Visitors today must travel deep into the valleys and onto the steep slopes to find the tremendous diversity in this place.

Today’s Challenges. The diverse, intact native plant communities that still exist in the blufflands are threatened in vari- ous ways. Oak forests and woodlands, bluff prairies, and savannas all require fire to thrive and support the plants and animals native to these habitats. Con- trolled burning on many public and some private lands has helped restore this vital process. However, because most land ownership in this region is private, there are many places without fire. In the absence of fire, invasive species such as nonnative buckthorn and honeysuckle displace native species, and much of the native diversity is lost. Threats to the region’s mesic hardwood forests include nonnative earth- worms and buckthorn. Garlic mustard is a relatively new invasive species that is spreading quickly. Floodplain forests, emergent marshes, and sedge meadows have been greatly changed by the locks and dams that have removed most of the natural flooding

Aspens (Populus tremuloides) grow at Frontenac State Park, which protects Mississippi River bluffs, prairies, and floodplain and hardwood forests.

November–December 2015 13 The sun rises over the Mississippi River at Wildcat Park and Landing south of Brownsville. Houston County leases the riverside recreation area from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

regime in many areas. The latest threat this ancient landscape continues on. to remaining floodplain forests: Reed Myriad pockets of diverse habitats sup- canary grass forms dense thickets that port many of the plants and animals seem to prohibit trees from regenerating. that evolved over thousands of years to Rivers and streams have been impaired be perfectly adapted to this place. by siltation, pollution, and increased flooding caused by land use changes. Winter Trip. On a cloudy day this Despite all the pressures and threats, past winter, I traveled along Highway

14 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer The sun rises over the Mississippi River at Wildcat Park and Landing south of Brownsville. Houston County leases the riverside recreation area from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

74, which runs through the middle the valley. Oak forests and bluff prai- of the expansive Whitewater Wildlife ries, many of them burned in the past Management Area in Winona and Wa- year, stretched across successive rows basha counties. Light snow covered the of hills. bluffs and the floodplain. There wasn’t As I came to a bend in the road, the sun another car in sight or, for that matter, suddenly came out, warming my face. I any sign of other humans. I marveled felt grateful to be in this beautiful valley at the expanse of bluffs visible from that still possesses such natural richness. nV

November–December 2015 15 By Annette Dray Drewes Photography by Richard Hamilton Smith

Launching Into WILD RICE After years of following wild rice harvesters, a researcher embarks on her own annual ritual.

Minnesota has more than 100 lakes named “Long,” and I am about to launch onto one of them with a companion to gather wild rice. Our ritual has varied little in the four years we have harvested here. The 15-foot aluminum canoe sits next to the dock, waiting for gear. The dock—its wooden, well-worn gray planks slightly askance—straddles the line between water and shore. This is a sweet private access, one we gained permission to use with a gift of finished wild rice and a promise of more when the season is done. I’m at this lake because 10 years earlier I launched myself on a great adventure, chasing after a doctorate in land resources,

The author (seated) and her ricing partner Kristi Olson gather wild rice on a northern Minnesota lake.

16 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 17 with a personal interest in understand- This was a new way of being with a plant ing wild rice harvest and management. I that I had often encountered while canoe- had questions, and no one seemed able ing down small tributaries to the Missis- to provide answers. Along the journey sippi River. A plant that I had watched my heart was captured by wild rice. Pad- others harvest in the fall, long poles push- dling into the tall stems, perched on my ing boats into the rice. From those earlier kayak while the water breathed beneath river forays had come my guiding research me and the lightest of breezes made the questions: Who is watching out for wild wild rice dance, I felt connected. Out- rice? Wild rice is no longer found where I numbered and ungraceful among the was raised in southern Minnesota. Where slender, swaying grass, I waited alone else has it disappeared? Who is paying at- to listen and understand. Days visiting tention? Might I find answers by talking rice lakes were days I looked forward to. to those who still harvest wild rice? Who Quiet times observing and exploring. puts aside weekends and takes time off

18 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer from work in the short autumn window Though Minnesota’s ricing season officially opens to harvest? on Aug. 15, wild rice may not be ripe and ready For my research, I spent several years to legally harvest. Rice is ready to harvest when it “chasing the rice” or, more accurately, shatters easily from the stem. chasing wild rice gatherers. Today, I am one of them. cramping up while sitting low in the boat and knocking rice. I test my balance, not- At the landing, we load empty seed ing whether I feel a lean to the right or bags, twine, ricing sticks (knockers), a left, and adjust accordingly with a slight small cooler, and jugs of water into the scooch of my hips. canoe. I settle a little webbed stool, which Kristi, my frequent ricing partner, my husband uses for turkey hunting, into picks up the long wooden push pole the bottom. Its angled seat provides just and steps into what is usually the enough clearance to keep my back from bow, where she has room to stand. I

November–December 2015 19 smile thinking of all the times I’ve told my students, “Never stand in a canoe.” With expe- rience, we have learned that she is better at poling than I am. She is strong and able to push a 65-pound canoe carrying a 400-pound load through closely packed stands of wild rice. I am counting on the fact that she has never tipped us. Long Lake, less than 15 feet deep in most areas, has dense stands of tall rice along parts of its shoreline. We head for the thickest patch. Here the stalks grow almost on top of each other, resisting any move- ment through them. The narrow tip of the canoe finds space in which to split the stems, creating an opening that wid- ens as my ricing partner pushes us forward. Poling a canoe through thick stands of rice takes constant effort, balance, and focus. The idea is to plant one end of the 16-foot pole firmly against the bottom of the lake or stream, and then walk your hands up the pole, pushing the canoe forward. This is easier said than done. Wild rice typically

Equipment for wild ricing is often improvised or homemade. A closet clothes-hanging rod (left) becomes a push pole. Knockers or flails (right) are typically made of cedar because the wood is lightweight.

20 November–December 2015 21 grows in mucky, loose substrates. “Bot- seeds to harvest. But the seeds must be tom” is often not a hard surface but rath- ripe or they won’t fall well. And through- er a thickening of mud interspersed with out this rice bed, ripeness varies. In fact, submerged roots and decaying plants. on each plant ripeness varies. A suc- Finding leverage can be difficult, so a cessful harvest requires finding ripe rice good push pole has either a forked end among the thousands of stalks stretch- or a hinged “duck bill” attachment that ing across the shallows of this 700-acre spreads open with each push. lake. Here, close to shore, the rice is not My job is to gather the wild rice seed falling well. It’s time to move on. into the canoe by “knocking” with two Kristi is glad to leave behind the dense tapered cedar sticks, 30 inches long. stand as she poles us toward more open Grasping one in each hand, I reach out water. Further away from shore, the rice with my left arm and collect an armful becomes shorter, thinning in places be- of wild rice. The canoe’s forward mo- cause wind and waves buffet the plants. mentum and my extended arm work to- Here we pick up our pace a bit. gether to pull the stems over the edge of I am still fine-tuning my technique. the canoe. With my right arm, I sweep The goal of knocking is to dislodge all the tops of the stems with a solid, brush- ripe rice and to leave the stalks intact so ing stroke of the cedar that finishes near they can continue to produce more rice the bottom of the boat. If the rice is ripe, on the same stalk. Then we can come just pulling the stalks in will cause the back to this lake two or three more times seed to shatter away from the stem. in this season to gather. Breaking the Sweeping the tops further encourages stalks ends gathering. Longtime harvest- the rice to disengage from the stalk and ers understand this and do all they can to rain into the canoe. Some of the seed educate new harvesters. falls into the water and will bolster the Kristi begins to find her pace with harvest next year. the push pole, and my swinging arms start to move in rhythm. Gather, sweep, We move slowly through the first bed sweep. Gather, sweep, sweep. I alternate of wild rice. Blown-down plants create sides in a dance step that is guided by the floating mats that drag on the canoe. growth of wild rice. One-two-three. One- I have time to reach and gather stalks two-three. One-two-three. The rhythm from both sides of the boat as Kristi of a thick stand. Ten minutes later, we retrieves the pole from her last push. reach an opening in the rice. I pause and We are surrounded by rice stalks, and breathe a sigh of relief. Each lake, every they seem to be winning a silent protest partner produces a different rhythm. against our presence. There are endless dance steps to learn. Hidden within the wild rice, I have little fear of tipping over as stalks press Wild rice is a favorite food of the sora rail. in on all sides. Thick rice means more Harvesters often encounter this common but plants, and more plants mean more secretive marsh-dwelling bird, aka the rice hen.

22 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 23 Pausing after a lunch eaten in the ca- The author bags up part of a day’s harvest of wild noe, we watch a red-winged blackbird rice. At home she’ll spread the rice out on tarps for perform a practiced ritual on the edge of a day or two to help the rice dry and to get rid of the rice bed. The bird flies down to the bugs before bringing it to a processor for finishing. base of a small cluster of rice plants about a foot above the water. Grasping several wildlife we spot while collecting wild stalks with its feet, the bird sidesteps up rice. Sora rails, also known as rice hens, the rice stems. The genius of this maneu- flush out of the rice stands like feathered ver is becoming clear. Closer to the top of softballs as we push our way through. the plant, where the mature seeds reside, Within seconds they disappear again stems thin and would not support the into the wild rice—only to be flushed weight of a bird landing on them. Hang- once again as we continue moving. Are ing on to several stalks as they bend, the there a dozen rails in here, or only two blackbird can sidestep down to the heads or three well-traveled ones? of rice, then select, pick, and shuck seeds As the wild rice piles up in our canoe, one by one while staying dry. We watch I consider the stories that harvesters in fascination as the bird repeats its har- gave to me during my research—words vesting ritual over and over. spoken like the rice that showers down around me. Each harvester has his or Glancing down at the bottom of our her reasons for gathering wild rice. Their canoe, I inventory our growing pile. In experiences shape connections to this addition to 20-plus pounds of wild rice, centuries-old tradition. we have gathered perhaps a pound and a Now, as I return to wild rice waters half of spiders and rice worms, which are each season, I realize that the harvest crawling out of the seed. The worms inch has become part of my story. And I am along, looking for somewhere to hide. deeply grateful for my relationship with The cuffs of pants legs and the crannies wild rice. These autumn days of gather- around bootlaces are good choices. The ing are a gift of time, a slowing of life, worms’ squishiness may go undetected and an awakening of the senses. With until you stand up or accidently brush every grain gathered, I feel alive and one down your leg. connected—not just to these wild rice Spiders seem bent on stitching you into lakes, each with their own character the canoe under a fine garland of web- and quirks, but also to a community of bing. Some long-legged spiders nearly harvesters stretching back in time and disappear among the rice. Other species outward across miles. All of us are gath- are round and robust, cream and white in ering for sustenance of some sort. Mine color. I’m not fond of spiders, but in the ca- is the joy of giving gifts of finished wild noe we have reached a truce. I will not flail rice to family and friends, and of gracing or scream, and they will leave me fairly our table with a steaming dish of wild well alone. rice, hand-harvested from waters close Spiders and worms aren’t the only to home. nV

24 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 25 Horse gentian (Triosteum perfoliatum) Artist, Yara Anderson 13½ by 10½ inches

26 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Let Nature Be Your Teacher

By Nancy Sather

Stepping through a gate inscribed with the words Let Nature Be Your Teacher, you find yourself in an oasis of natural beauty in the heart of Minneapolis. Founded in 1907, the Eloise Butler Wildflower Gar- den and Bird Sanctuary is the oldest public wildflower garden in North America. Today the 15-acre garden harbors almost 550 plant species that grow in wetlands, woodlands, savannas, and prairies. The majority of plants are native in Minnesota, and 379 were present in the garden when Eloise Butler and other botany teachers petitioned the city to preserve

November–December 2015 27 part of Glenwood Park. They called edly and in all seasons to observe for a “Botanical Preserve” where and photograph their specimens. students could study native plants Like a botanist collecting a plant in the rapidly developing metro- in the field for display as a her- politan area. Today the garden has barium specimen, the botanical some 60,000 visitors a year. artist must fit the illustration to the In 2010, garden curator Su- paper and display both the upper san Wilkins and Marilyn Garber, and lower sides of the leaf, as well founder and director of the Minne- as other parts. sota School of Botanical Art, joined Why paint instead of just using forces to start a project known as photographs or herbarium speci- the Eloise Butler Florilegium. A flo- mens? For the artist, painting is a rilegium is a visual historical record way to explore nature, often see- of plants present in a given loca- ing things unnoticed at a glance. tion. When this multiyear project is Herbarium specimens remain the completed, students and teachers at gold standard for documenting the MSBA will have painted represen- presence of plants in a given place. tative images of 130 native species, But unlike a specimen, a botani- chosen by Wilkins to portray the cal illustration can show a plant’s garden’s range of natural habitats. changes over time. Like a mo- Wilkins sees the project as a way to saic of time-lapse images, a single invite more people to learn from the painting integrates phenological garden’s living library of plants. Gar- development such as changes in ber sees this as a legacy project for leaf appearance over the season or the school, as well as a contribution maturation from flower to fruit. to the community. The illustrations presented on Each watercolor painting depicts the following pages invite the a plant as it appears in the garden. viewer to study a plant’s form in Most artists visit the garden repeat- exquisite detail.

Selected works are being shown at Macalester College’s Smail Gallery in St. Paul through July 2016. The gallery in the Olin-Rice Science Center is open weekdays 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and weekend afternoons. The Minneapolis Park Board will archive and exhibit the florilegium in perpetuity. Eloise Butler Wildflower Garden and Bird Sanctuary in Minneapolis is open daily from April 1 to Oct. 15.

28 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) Artist, Marilyn Garber, 19 by 15 inches

November–December 2015 29 Highbush cranberry (Viburnum opulus var. americanum) Artist, Betsy Cole, 14½ by 12 inches

30 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Sensitive fern (Onoclea sensibilis) Artist, Linda Powers, 19 by 15 inches

November–December 2015 31 Artistic process. Artists visit the garden to draw twist of one plant and partially mature red fruits or photograph but never to dig or remove plants. of another. A review session with botanist Robert Janet Goltz and her husband compiled photo mo- Bergad helped ensure scientific accuracy. Hundreds saics of several hundred jack-in-the-pulpit images. of hours later, she presented her completed paint- She then did graphite drawings to help her “un- ing to be juried by a panel. Once the panel accepted derstand what is happening.” To show natural vari- her artwork into the florilegium, Goltz donated it ability among plants, Goltz used the developmental and the copyright to the Minneapolis Park Board. Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) Artist, Janet Goltz, 19 by 15 inches

November–December 2015 33 Skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) Artist, Ronda Dick, 19 by 15 inches

34 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Climbing bittersweet (Celastrus scandens) Artist, Debra D’Souza, 19 by 15 inches

November–December 2015 35 Prairie smoke (Geum triflorum) Artist, Shelley Bowman, 19 by 15 inches

36 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) Artist, Betsy Cole, 9½ by 9½ inches

To see more botanical artworks, visit www.mndnr.gov/magazine. nV The Shy

BearLiving in the north woods, black bears face many dangers. How did one bear outlive all others?

By Dave Garshelis ▼ oung Y naturalists 38 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer On a frigid morning in January 1974, a hibernating female bear in northern Minnesota twisted and strained in her den. Before long, she gave birth to three tiny, nearly hairless cubs and licked them clean. In Minnesota, mother Each cub weighed less than a can of pop. black bears give birth The temperature outside the den was minus 40. to cubs in their winter Snowdrifts over the den entrance provided some insu- dens. While their mother hibernates, the cubs lation from the harsh winter, but inside it was still below cuddle and drink her milk zero. The cubs remained warm under the mother’s belly to grow big enough to go in a nest of dry grass and leaves, which she had raked outside in spring. in during the fall when she dug this den into a hillside. With closed eyes and some nudging from the mother, they each found a nipple to nurse, and their crying and squealing quieted for a while.

It’s a remarkable feat that a mother bear can care DNR PHOTOS

November–December 2015 39 for such tiny, helpless cubs born at milk, she’ll lose half her weight. the coldest time of year. She has had One of the cubs that crawled out nothing to eat or drink for about of the dark den into the bright sun- four months before their birth, and light that spring was destined to be she won’t eat until she and her cubs a legend. This female cub became a leave the den in three months. She legend not because she became tame must provide enough milk for each and known to people, but rather just cub to gain up to 10 pounds before the opposite: She was shy and stayed then. To do this, she must convert away from people, and that helped her own body fat into this nutri- her to live to be the oldest known tious liquid. As her body produces wild bear in the world.

In 1981, after being caught in a barrel trap, bear 56 received a shot that made her sleep. Then biologists removed her from the trap and examined her. They put a tag with the number 56 on her ear and a radio collar around her neck. Bear 56, the Early Years We know nothing of the first seven years of woods are near the center of Minnesota’s this bear’s life. And we would have known range for the black bear (Ursus america- nothing about her at all if she hadn’t nus), the only bear species in the state. crawled into a barrel trap set by wildlife We trapped 32 bears that summer. She biologists with the Department of Natural was one of four adult females caught and Resources in the summer of 1981. This the only one with cubs. Her three cubs was the first year in a long-term study of stayed high in a tree near the trap, wait- bears in Chippewa National Forest. These ing for her to come out. We used a syringe

40 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer mounted on a jab stick to inject a mixture tooth was cut in thin sections and exam- of drugs to anesthetize her, so she would ined under a microscope. We could count be asleep and not feel any pain while we seven yearly growth lines, like rings on a removed her from the trap. We took mea- tree. From the spacing of those lines, we surements and blood samples, attached a could tell that she had given birth to her radio collar so we could track her, and gave first litter of cubs two years earlier. her two yellow ear tags, numbered 56 and She had one broken canine tooth, and 57. After that, we simply called her bear 56. it appeared from her crooked nose that She weighed only 143 pounds. To find she had once broken that as well. We saw out how old she was, we extracted a small nothing remarkable about 56 that would tooth, not used for chewing. Later, the predict a long life. DNR PHOTOS The cubs watched from a tree. Biologists pulled a small tooth from bear 56. Later, they studied a slice of the tooth under a microscope. By counting seven growth rings, they knew bear 56 was 7 years old.

Dangers FirstAs a cub, 56 had a good chance of surviv- The biggest risks come after the cubs are ing her first year: 87 percent of female bears 16 or 17 months old and leave their mother. born in Chippewa National Forest survive They must find a new place to live, learn their cub year. Male cubs are twice as likely new places to feed, stay away from aggres- to die because they tend to wander farther sive bears, and avoid people. Bear 56 did from their mother and take more risks. not live in a national park or wildlife sanctu- Some fall out of trees, some get hit by cars, ary where bears are protected. She lived in and some get killed by adult male bears. an area that is popular among bear hunters.

November–December 2015 41 Hunting for Food In northern Minnesota, bears must con- and other high-calorie foods. She traversed tend with long, cold winters. With no food unfamiliar places, encroaching on territo- for six or seven months, hibernating bears ries of unfamiliar bears and not knowing must live off their stored body fat. They also where to find the best food sources. need body fat to stay warm, so they must In some years, natural foods are so pack on the pounds during late summer scarce that even the most wary bears be- and fall. Supplies of berries and nuts vary come desperate and cannot resist eating from year to year, forcing bears to spend a hunter’s bait—maybe some sweet pas- much energy looking for places to feed. tries, popcorn, marshmallows, or fatty Like most bears in that forest, 56 often meat. Despite several years when acorns migrated south during late summer or fall and hazelnuts were in very short supply, to find richer supplies of acorns, hazelnuts, bear 56 must have stayed away from baits. DNR PHOTOS

Carnivore Kin Although their diet is mainly plants, black like young ants called larvae and pupae. bears belong to the Carnivore group of A black bear can smell ant nests under- mammals, which are much better at di- ground or in rotten logs. It uses its claws gesting meat than plants. Bears are most to dig them up or its large canine teeth closely related to dogs and wolves. to tear open a log. A bear can also break Unlike grizzly and polar bears, which into bees’ nests. Though a black bear is not hunt and kill other mammals, Minne- quick enough to chase and catch an adult sota black bears seldom do. For “meat,” deer, a bear can capture a deer fawn that is black bears eat ants, ant eggs, and worm- too small to run with its mother.

42 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Young cubs (left) attempt to find an ant colony in a rotten log. Clockwise from top: A black bear enjoys an abundance of blueberries in an opening in a pine forest. Bears eat a variety of foods, including blackberries, hazelnuts, wild sarsaparilla, and chokecherries.

November–December 2015 43 DNR PHOTOS Bear 56 used many different types of dens. Her cubs hibernated with her when they were 1 year old. When the family emerged in spring they searched for sprouts of grass and other plants. Family Times In the first winter after capturing 56, we barely used their muscles all winter, the used the signal from her radio collar to bears simply walked away as if they had find her den. She was hibernating with just taken a short nap. A person who was her three cubs, now a year old and called inactive for so long would not even be able yearlings. The yearlings had stopped to stand up. nursing in the fall and were also hiber- Food is scarce for bears in early spring nating, scrunched together in the back of in Minnesota. Bear 56 would show her the den. All were females, and we tagged yearlings wet spots in the forest where they and collared all of them. could find sprouts of green grass and juicy In spring, warm weather, melting snow, roots. A few weeks later, the whole family and longer days prompted the family to would climb aspen trees to eat leaf buds emerge from the den. Although they had and dangling flowers called catkins.

44 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Cubs routinely climb trees where they are safer from predators. Male bears sometimes kill cubs. The mother will chase her cubs away when they are about 17 months old, so she can mate and raise another litter. A Change of Plans Just when 56’s family would have been Since all three yearlings were females, enjoying the flourishing spring foods, 56 allowed them to continue to use part playing together during the day, and of her home range (living area) of about 6 sleeping all nestled together at night, to 8 square miles. By using familiar areas, things abruptly changed. A breeding they were better able to find food. Also, male bear sensed, from the chemicals in the overlapping ranges of related females 56’s urine, that she would soon be ready can protect the area from encroachment to mate. As the male approached, the by other bears. Male yearlings can stay three yearlings were shocked to see their within their mother’s range for only a mother chasing them away, rather than year or two before they must find another scaring off the intruding male. place to live.

November–December 2015 45 Daughters of bear 56 were collared. Researchers monitored them to see how many cubs they had every other winter.

Crew AThat Newwinter, 56 had a new litter of cubs. In this way, we watched the family grow, We visited her in her den each year to as 56’s female offspring had their own check her weight. Every few years, we cubs, and then these bears grew up to have changed her radio collar when it needed cubs. One of her daughters lived 19 years new batteries. One year she would have and produced 22 cubs. One of her grand- cubs. The next year, they would be year- daughters lived to age 23 and had 28 cubs. lings and large enough to collar. But 56 outlived them all.

46 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer DNR PHOTOS Biologists examined the teeth of bear 56 when she was a young adult (left) and again when she was very old (right). Her old teeth had become yellow, worn down, and cracked. Several teeth were missing. End of a Long Line When bear 56 was 23 years old, we went Slowly, 56’s health began to deterio- to her den and found three newborn cubs. rate. One eye became cloudy. Her hear- But when we returned a year later, we were ing started to go bad. She seemed to use surprised to find only one had survived. roads more often, maybe because it was At 25 years old, she had another new easier for her to walk. People reported litter, as expected. But for the first time seeing her walking unsteadily on a road in her life, she had just a single cub. Her and not moving away when a car ap- ability to reproduce was declining, but proached. We wondered if she’d get hit by her weight was the maximum we had a car or shot by a hunter. measured: 255 pounds. Her teeth were in terrible condition: At 27 years old, she was lactating (full Most were worn to the gums, and several with milk) in the den, but there were no were missing or cracked. It must have cubs. They may have died at birth, in which been painful for her to chew an acorn. case she would have eaten them. From then A hunter’s bait of soft jelly doughnuts on, she had no cubs. She was the first and would have been easier to eat. Several only bear in our study to reach senescence— hunters saw her, but they noticed her the age where she could no longer have large, colorful ear tags and did not shoot cubs. She had produced 11 litters, and she her because we had told people that a would live the rest of her life alone. unique, very old bear lived in the area.

November–December 2015 47 Last Move We began noticing that bear 56 had shifted was alive to help defend her territory. her home range southward, maybe be- But bear 56 was not killed by a person or cause an unrelated female displaced her. In another bear. Later that summer of 2013, July 2013 she started heading farther south. we found the remains of her body. It looked Was this the start of another migration, or like she had simply curled up to rest in a bed was yet another bear pushing her out of of long grass in the forest, where she died. its territory? We wondered if another bear She was 39½ years old, a new record for a might kill her. None of her descendants wild bear of any species in the world. DNR PHOTOS Researchers gave larger ear tags to bear 56 so hunters could easily identify her and not shoot her. In the winter of 2013, in her last den, bear 56 was alert but showed signs of her old age—gray hairs and a cloudy right eye.

Luck SinceSome the birth of bear 56 in 1974, the lived. She probably would not have lived DNR has collected more than 60,000 so long if we had not put large ear tags bear teeth from hunters. By counting on her and asked local people to watch growth rings on teeth, we’ve found only out for her. We asked everyone to look three bears over 30 years old. Among for her on the roads and not to shoot her more than 360 bears that we’ve radio- if she came to a hunter’s bait or passed collared and tracked until they died, 56 through someone’s yard. was one of just 15 bears that died a natu- Bear 56 lived so long because for most of ral death. Most died from legal hunting. her life she was skilled at staying away from She was the only one to die of old age. people. But she also needed some luck and If she had not been radio-collared, we some compassionate people to allow her to would have never known how long she live the full life that she did. nV

Teachers resources: Teachers Guide: www.mndnr.gov/young_naturalists About Those Bears: ow.ly/SAAJJ 48 Minnesota DNR bear facts: Minnesotamndnr.gov/mammals/blackbear.html Conservation Volunteer 49

The w oDs NowO protected as a scientific and natural area, this patch of Big Woods has long been a wild haven.

By Nan Roberts Photography by Jim Brandenburg

51 Country. Leaf Country. Creek Coun- try. Bone Country. My sister named each one, but only she knew Trtheir imaginarye boundaries.e All were part of what we simply called The Woods. I spent much of my childhood there with an ever- changing combination of siblings, cousins, friends, and neighbors. In this beloved place, we absorbed more about the natural world than we could ever put into words. At first, the woods seemed like a vast, mysterious place—as it would when you’re only 3 feet tall. Brambles and rusted sections of barbed wire guarded the edges. But once you went beyond the ragged perimeter, you entered a different world—a vertical landscape that had you craning your neck upward and tripping over fallen branches. Towering maples, red oaks, ironwood, butternut,

Sugar maples (above) illuminate the fall canopy in these woodlands where the barred owl (right) dwells.

52 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 53 basswood, and elm made up the forest and, when in leaf, covered much of the sky. Here and there, dead trees crumbled into duff. Some stood alone and hol- low, filled with mysteries. We rambled through it all, learning the terrain of wooded slopes, rocky creek beds, bee- droned meadows, and pungent marshes. At the northern edge, the streams ended in a small lake—a stunning bright eye in a tranquil opening. It was a few years before we made this sur- prising discovery, for we had to grow bold enough to navigate to the far end of the forest. In fall, magical prisms of light shone through the changing leaves above as if from vaulted stained-glass ceilings. The forest floor became a riot of rustling, drifting carpets. We built enormous leaf piles and dove into quilted mounds of yel- lows, oranges, greens, and reds. The smell of dead leaves and damp earth was deep and rich. The air was apple-crisp and in- vigorating, stinging our cheeks crimson and making our stiff fingers seek pockets. Fall was In the frosty forest, ice forms on marshes and a spring-fed for running—sprinting through lake. Coyotes roam the hilly terrain. This 220-acre preserve columns of tree trunks and leap- is a small remainder of the Big Woods—hardwood forests ing over logs, whooping and that once covered more than 2,000 square miles in south- laughing. We stomped through central Minnesota. the crunch of fallen leaves, snap- ping dead twigs with the utter Editor’s note: Saved from development in 1978, Wolsfeld joy of making noise. Woods is now a scientific and natural area. It’s open to the Winter cast a silent cloak over public for nature observation and education.

54 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer

A great egret catches fish in the waters dotting this landscape. Come spring, the ostrich fern (bottom left) unfurls its fiddlehead. It is one of four fern species found here. Indian pipe (Monotropa uniflora) blooms from June to Septem- ber in the moist, shady woods. Lacking chlorophyll, this perennial relies on mycorrhizal fungi to ferry carbohydrates from surrounding green plants.

the woods, beneath a tangle of black limbs stark against gray sky. Snow muffled and disguised the sound and sight of everything. We slogged through deep drifts, our boots filled with icy clumps that chafed our ankles raw and froze our feet. Huffing and puff- ing through the animal smell of our damp, half-frozen woolen scarves, we trudged onward to the edge of a stream-cut ra- vine. There we would launch ourselves out over the abyss on a fraying rope swing. We per- fected the art of flying just far enough so when we let go we planted ourselves waist-deep in snow on the opposite bank. If our technique failed and we swung to a stop, we risked dropping into a pit of jumbled stones and jackstrawed tree limbs. It was absolutely terrify- ing, but we couldn’t resist the draw of being airborne. Spring turned the woods into a fairyland. The scent of new greenery wafted through the airy understory. Wildflow-

56 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 57 A fallen tree becomes a hideout for the eastern tiger salamander. These common salamanders make above-ground appearances during their spring and fall travels between upland burrows and breeding ponds.

ers shone like tiny jewels. We The woods attract 27 warbler species, went tiptoeing to go nose to such as the yellow warbler (left). nose with dew-speckled lady’s- A paper globe hung from a tree limb slippers and dainty Dutchman’s can house hundreds of bald-faced breeches. On a favorite knoll, hornets. Recognized by their black- we played pop-beads with an- and-white pattern, these common cient horsetail stems. The nearby wasps build a nest by chewing wood marsh popped with leopard frogs fibers and mixing them with saliva. as we walked along its spongy edge. We searched for amphib- dead limbs. Soon our structures ians to catch—the polka-dotted were almost invisible to the ca- salamander, the tiny treefrog, the sual wanderer. Vivid imagination warty toad—each so different, yet turned these simple structures all with the same small grasping into teepees, jungle lairs, castles, hands that looked like ours. pioneer settlements, forts, or de- The peak of summer had us serted island huts. Our Tarzan searching for relief from the blar- calls and battle cries disrupted the ing sun. It was a long, weary bike harmony of bird songs. Some of ride to seek out the cool, green the birds defended their territory canopy of leaves. Picking through by strafing our fortress, giving burrs and stinging nettles, we’d away our location to enemy sol- work our way to the depths of diers or even cannibals. the woods. A meandering hike But all was not beauty and to the small lake was the best imaginative play. Dead animals reward. But it was yet another were mourned and tentatively battle to fight through reeds and examined as once-vibrant crea- squishy mud before we could tures became still. Creepy bugs belly-flop into the water. Those and smelly substances were a too disgusted by foot-sucking part of our education. muck to reach water broiled and We were feral children enrap- complained in the sun while tured by the textures and colors, the brave frolicked and floated. scents and sounds of this place we Cool spring-fed water soothed called The Woods. We absorbed sunburned skin, bug bites, nettle its every molecule, endured the stings, and bad moods. stings and scratches from its in- The woods became our stage habitants, accepted the wounds, for acting out fantasies. We cre- and studied all it contained. We ated elaborate hideouts against took care not to tread on its ten- huge fallen trees by weaving der blossoms or harm its living walls of leafy, green branches creatures. We somehow knew it through an upright framework of was a haven for wildness. nV

60 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 61 62 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Ancient

For thousandsCooking of years, people have dug earth ovens for cooking.

By Jim Cummings Photography by Judy Olausen O O O O O O O O O

ver the past few decades, archaeologists across North America have unearthed pits with concentrations of rocks altered by intense heat. These archaeological features tend to be circular or oval, from 20 inches to several feet across, and lined with a couple of dozen to several hundred rocks. Some are remnants of heating a shelter, some of cer- emonial activities, and many of underground ovens. The earliest earth ovens in North America are more than 8,000 years old. Also known as pit ovens, they were used to slow roast or steam roots, nuts, fish, mussels, and meats. Recent archaeological excavations in Glendalough and Lake Shetek state parks uncovered fire-altered rocks that show evidence of earth-oven cooking. At Glendalough, archaeologists found over 500 cobbles arranged in a shallow pit. Almost all were granite, ranging in diameter from 4 to 8 inches. All had a reddened color, crumbling surfaces, and deep, angular cracks. To alter granite

November–December 2015 63 cobbles to this degree requires it to compare the experimental heat in excess of 900 degrees. oven with our archaeological A radiocarbon date, obtained finds. I excavated it carefully from charcoal associated with with a trowel, recording with the rocks, indicates the oven notes and photographs the was used around A.D. 1350. “reveal” at each 5-centimeter Such a large earth oven would vertical depth, just as we do have taken considerable labor with archaeological investiga- to construct. It might have tions. The configuration of been used for celebration, rocks was similar to some fire- ceremony, or preparation of a cracked rock features I have communal harvest. encountered in excavations, A common method of including one at Father Hen- preparing an earth oven was nepin State Park. I presented to dig a shallow pit and line it the results of my earth oven with cobbles such as granite or experiments at a conference basalt. A fire was tended on the in 2013 to share what I learned rocks until they began to glow with other archaeologists and red. The embers were then ei- to solicit their input. ther spread aside or removed, As an interpretive naturalist and a layer of vegetation such at Mille Lacs Kathio State Park, as green grasses or leaves was I have also built and used earth placed atop the hot rocks. ovens as public education Uncooked food was placed demonstrations. To avoid dis- directly on the vegetation or turbing any archaeological site, first wrapped in leaves. More my colleagues from the Min- vegetation was piled on the nesota Historical Society and I food, and the pit was covered dig an oven pit in beach sand with earth. The food was left to in the park’s human-made cook for a couple of hours or, swimming area. At one annual in some cases, up to 48 hours. Archaeology Day event in Sep- After encountering fire- tember, we roasted two ducks altered rocks in archaeological and a couple of squash in an excavations, I decided I could earth oven. We also cooked gain a better understanding of wild rice in a reproduction Superheated rocks are key these features by constructing ceramic pot and boiled sweet to earth-oven cooking. The and using experimental earth corn using fire-heated rocks. author, a DNR naturalist and ovens. I have done so several After 90 minutes of cooking, archaeologist, lines a sand times. Once I covered an earth we served moist, tender duck pit with cobbles and stokes a oven after using it, left it for with squash, corn, and wild fire until the rocks glow red. five years, and then excavated rice to event volunteers.

64 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer To keep food free from soil and ashes, earth-oven users often wrapped and bound it with plant materials. For this experiment, the author bound a duck with the inner bark of basswood and wrapped it in turnip greens.

November–December 2015 65 Experimental archaeology stimulates discussion among archaeologists and state park visitors. For example, while observing a demonstration, a military veteran told us about a cook who used earth ovens to prepare meals for soldiers serv- ing in Afghanistan. The cook had learned how to use earth ovens in an advanced field skills course. In the high-tech world of military engagement, this ancient cooking method allowed for continuous, efficient feeding of soldiers 24 hours a day. Each earth-oven demonstration raises new questions. Keep- ing food free of soil and ash is a considerable challenge. Histori- cal records and oral histories tell of using maple, basswood, or wild grape leaves to wrap food cooked in earth ovens. Science helps fill out the story: Soil can be microscopically examined for starch grains and small silica bodies known as phytoliths. This analysis can reveal what plants were cooked and what vegetation covered the food. In a recent experiment, I did not have access to fresh basswood leaves. Instead, I wrapped a duck with store-bought turnip greens and bound the package After the fire pit is well heated, a bed of vegetation is placed with the inner bark of bass- on top of the embers, followed by the wrapped food bundle and wood, which I had soaked in more vegetation—in this case store-bought turnip greens. Then water. With earth ovens, I get to the whole pit is buried to trap the heat. The result, after an hour eat a delicious meal with each and a half, is a meal waiting to be unwrapped like a present. experiment. nV

66 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer November–December 2015 67 Spotlight 75

In July we invited readers on our email list to watch a video about this magazine’s 75-year history and tell us their story. Some responses appeared in the Sept.–Oct. issue. This final Spotlight 75 features excerpts from two longer stories sent by readers. The first story comes from Pauline Danforth, who is an academic advisor at Metropolitan State University. Singing Hills Canoeing across Sakatah Lake at sunset, we 11 years, beginning when my son was 6 shared the lake with a dozen herring gulls. and his were 10 and 13. In recent years, Fifty feet away, they bobbed gracefully in we’ve been joined by a multicultural mix the sky-tinted water. These gulls usually of colleagues, relatives, and friends. nest in Canada, so in mid-September they were likely resting here before flying south. Rain. We made it back to our group camp- My friend Michael and I zigzagged around site just before the rain. Observing thick the gulls in our green aluminum canoe. clouds and rumbling thunder, I shared my Sakatah Lake State Park, where we were pouch of tobacco with my nieces Amalia camping, is 65 miles south of the Twin and Felicia. We walked to the edge of the Cities. The Cannon River flows into the campground and offered tobacco to the Mississippi River to the east and connects thunder beings. As Ojibwe, we make an of- Upper and Lower Sakatah lakes. This was fering to them when a storm is approach- the Dakota Indians’ east-west canoe route ing. We prayed for the safety of our family until the mid-1800s. The misnamed Can- and our circle of camping friends. non River was first known asRiver aux Canots, a French word meaning “Canoe Singing Lake. The Dakota named this River,” because both Indian and French lake Sakatah, translated in its simplest travelers often concealed their canoes form to mean “Singing Hills” or more ex- along its banks. pansively to mean “the sights and sounds Michael and I were camping with of children playing on the hill.” The state friends. We all meet to camp together park’s website says a Dakota village was just one night each year. Our families located where Upper and Lower Sakatah have shared this weekend tradition for lakes come together.

68 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Along the Sakatah Singing Hills State Trail, hardwood trees glow on the shores of Sakatah Lake.

Our group camped just a quarter-mile try. The Indian people were evicted from east on a low hill overlooking the lake. I this beautiful land of hardwood forests, imagine 150 years ago Dakota children pushed by land-hungry settlers to move would have been walking, playing, and north and west up the Minnesota River. DEBORAH ROSE, DNR singing along this lakeshore, welcoming Not much later, they were violently exiled Dakota travelers returning home from the from Minnesota after the U.S.–Dakota east. If any of their spirits were listening War of 1862. that night, they would have heard our teens I was sleeping on their land, a land singing show tunes. Seven teens—African, they would not recognize now, peopled Mexican-Ojibwe, and white—sang togeth- by farmers and, here in the state park, er by the crackling fire, their voices rising campers. I imagined that their spirits with the smoke to the star-studded heaven. visit on clear nights like this, when the And making the moment perfect, herring Milky Way lights the sky—a place their gulls flew overhead, swooping upward and creation stories say they come from and spiraling over treetops and back to the lake. return to after death. I believe their spirits remain, still hear- Wahpekute Spirits. That night I fell into ing the songs of their children and our a restless sleep in this Wahpekute coun- teenagers, singing in the cool autumn air.

November–December 2015 69 Professor emeritus of biology and author of The Mammals of Minnesota (University of Minnesota Press, 1982), Evan Hazard said he “started getting the Volunteer in ’59.” He sent us this essay, which first appeared in The Bemidji Pioneer, on how he became enchanted with the natural world. Re-enchanting Home You may have heard “You cannot step Fifty years later, I was now back. twice in the same river” or “You cannot go Was “the Farms” the same? No. home again.” Both imply two things. One, Was I the same? Hardly. the place is different when you return. The Was I again enchanted? Thoroughly. water you first stepped in is now in the sea. I spent my free time exploring the Farms, New buildings, businesses, or people have reveling in the sameness and the changes. replaced old. Two, you have changed. You But the enchantment had two new dimen- come back to the old place with new expe- sions: science and teaching. Though many riences, therefore seeing it with new eyes. scientists won’t admit it, scientists are en- Nonetheless, I have returned home and chanted, even obsessed, with the natural been richly rewarded. world. And teachers are obsessed with Home was New York City. In July 1994, sharing their enchantment. (I credit Dad my wife, Elaine, and I attended a meet- with both obsessions, though he had only ing at Holiday Hills, a YMCA conference a 10th-grade education.) center in the Berkshire foothills about One morning, walking, I passed a stump 65 miles north of the city. One speaker, with sprouts bearing long, graceful toothed Albert Raboteau, professor of religion at leaves. I had not noticed such sprouts 50 Princeton, asked us to first close our eyes. years earlier, but they must have been there. Then he asked that we imagine ourselves An English professor came up swiftly as children in a place that had enchanted behind me, obviously intent on exer- us. He went on to argue that to youngsters cise. I pointed out the chestnut sprouts everything is enchanted. As we grow, to and told her the story of the American make sense of the world, we must disen- chestnut. Blight had killed back most chant it. However, to mature fully, Rabo- chestnuts before I was born, leaving the teau said, we must re-enchant it. living roots to send up new shoots that Raboteau could not know, until I later may reach 12 feet before the blight kills told him, that I was already there. From the them back again. late 1920s to early ’40s, Holiday Hills was My friend was not a scientist, but she Green Mountain Lake Farms, a convales- was a good academic who liked to learn cent home. My aunt was secretary to the new stuff. She now recognizes beaver physician in charge. From ages 2 through work, the song of a wood thrush, and the 14, I visited there often. A lake plus acres of sound of a male bullfrog on his territory. woods, fields, hills, rocks, and critters were Enchantment comes easily to the recep- true enchantment for this city boy. tive. We were both blessed. nV

70 Minnesota Conservation Volunteer Annual index

Jan-Feb March-April May-June 75 Years! Really? Grassland Ambassador Flatheads! Changing Waters The First 40 Miles The Seekers Zany Fat-Bike Fun Color by Nature Fawn’s First Day Nature on the Move The Season That Speaks Cast Into the Past The Snowy Season Learning on the Fly The Warbler Capital This Issue. Remember? This Issue. Heritage Gardening Warblers of Wooded Ridges Natural Curiosities. Unwelcome Natural Curiosities. Bird- A Fisheye Lens hawk, visiting foxes, toasty lodge, feeding tips, hawk pursuit, bur oak This Issue. What Are the Chances? returning wrens, cool crappies, blight, unusual squirrel, absent Natural Curiosities. Not always swimming moose hummingbirds, hungry turkey nocturnal, zip-line insects, leaf litter, Field Notes. Our New Haven of Woods Minnesota Profile. Black-backed raccoon roadkill, unlucky frogs, feral and Prairie Woodpecker honeybees Minnesota Profile. Snowshoe Hare Field Notes. Help for Halting Oak Wilt Minnesota Profile. Wild Ginger

July-August Sept-Oct Nov-Dec Readers Write Moose in Minnesota The Sense of Place Issue A Bounty of Wild Bees The Ghost Cat A Funny Thing Happened Go Scale a Boulder The 10% Solution Explore an Ancient Landscape Different Strokes Splendid Fliers Launching Into Wild Rice How Big Is That Tree? Smoky Hills Let Nature Be Your Teacher Glendalough First Shot The Shy Bear This Issue. Ways of Knowing This Issue. The Wildlife Picture Letters Spotlight 75 Natural Curiosities. Dragonfly Natural Curiosities. Commuting Priming the Pump droves, loon shelters, double-punched crows, marred maple, friendly This Issue. A Sense of Time birches, berry variations, moonlight pheasant, relocating rodents, lonely drumming, bygone monarchs loon, frog phenomena To view the MCV annual report, go Minnesota Profile.Smooth Softshell Field Notes. Reviving a Prime Spot for to files.dnr.state.mn.us/publications/ Waterfowl volunteer/annual_report.pdf. Minnesota Profile. Mesabi Black Give a gift subscription or contribute: mndnr.gov/mcvmagazine or 888-646-6367. Aspen toss their leaves to the wind. We are thirsty from walking all this way and come upon a solitary pump standing like a monument in the cramped clearing of an abandoned farm grove. The dogs, those simple creatures, close their eyes to dissipate the heat by making it disappear with invisibility. Our meager water bottle is magnified in meagerness by the potential flood beneath our feet, so my son absently pumps the handle looks into the spout and pumps again. There are spider webs where water should be, but water begets water and we take a chance pouring ours the Pump into the pump shaft and hoping it creates a seal to draw the water up. And for awhile we pump in disbelief. The sound of rust repeated in the song of sandhill cranes heading south across the sky. The pumping changes then and water spills as red with rust as blood, and floods upon

Priming Priming the concrete apron. Then with further pumping clears. The dogs drink in rivulets that form along the ground and we drink too, in turn, one pumping water out. Water so perfect it becomes what water is to us. All water will be compared to this for ever after. We’ve been there since. And walked that wood in search of woodcock and ruffed grouse, but we never found that pump again. The trees never were the same. The path that took us there has disappeared with compass and with map we failed to find our way back until forward was the only way to go, and we walk on alone but filled with hope. Larry Gavin

Reprinted from Least Resistance by Larry Gavin, Red Dragonfly Press, 2007. ~Path in woods by Richard Hamilton Smith.

DEPARTMENT OF NATURAL RESOURCES NOVEMBER–DECEMBER 2015 Your Legacy Gift Honors a 75-year Tradition

Minnesota Conservation Volunteer has a 75-year tradition of championing wild things and places. You can help ensure the future of this homegrown magazine with your legacy gift. Simply name Minnesota Conservation Volunteer as a beneficiary of a life insurance policy, IRA, 401(k), or other retirement asset. Or add a provi- sion in your will or estate plan. Reader comments show the vitality of this conservation heritage—

About 70 years ago, I saw MCV in the school library. The school is gone, but MCV is still going strong. —Harvey N. A legacy magazine in our family. Our father started the tradition, and his children are now carrying on that treasured tradition. —Kristin P. MCV stands for everything I believe in when it comes to conservation. —Guy G. MCV has been with my family since before I was born. I started reading it when I was 6 years old. My parents are both gone now, but MCV is still there for me. —Katrina N. MCV was my father's favorite magazine. I am 91 and still read it. —Roy M. It's Minnesota real. —Donald E.

Your legacy gift will provide enduring support so that generations of Minnesotans will share this heritage. Find guidance for planned giving at www. mndnr.gov/mcvmagazine/legacy-gifts. Or contact David Lent at 651-259-5347 or david. [email protected].