Go Wild in Tennessee: wildlife management

Showing posts with label wildlife management. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Virgin Falls

Virgin Falls; Scott’s Gulf adjacent to the Bridgestone/Firestone Wilderness Management Area on the Cumberland Plateau dividing East- and Middle-Tennessee.
Virgin Falls has a knack for making you question your hiking skills before you even manage to get on the trail. The moment you leave the trailhead parking, you’re assaulted with signage everywhere with various warnings ranging from:

“Stay on the trail; hikers have gotten lost here and there is no cell phone coverage so help is not going to be here quickly!” to

“Backpackers, sign this log so we know you’re here and how many are in your party!” to, finally,

“This is a very strenuous 9-mile round trip hike with a water crossings and heavy, steady ascents on exit; this trail is not recommended for non-experienced hikers and make sure you allow yourself enough time to complete the trail!”.

When you start down the trail, you’re curious just how daunting it will become. After all, the immediate terrain is flat and unremarkable. Bandit McKaye and I struck out on the trail around 8 a.m. with the promise of mild temperatures and a cloudless sky. Simply stated, it was the perfect day for a hike. Because we have never been to this area, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but there were only a couple of cars at the trailhead and the above-mentioned signs made me think it would be a peaceful, quiet hike. We followed the flat terrain across the top of a ridge for about ½ a mile when the trail met up with, and followed, a slow, quiet mountain creek. We followed the creek for awhile as it slowly but steadily increased in size. Before long it grew from a creek to a stream to a babbling brook. At this point, the terrain went from straight and simple to a steady decent. The footing was still easy and, in the distance, we could hear the brook growing into rapids. It was here that we found something we have never really done before: a cabled creek crossing. The water wasn’t very high so I grabbed onto the cable only as a gesture and we trekked across the tops of the rocks. The trail continued downward at a steady pace and the babbling rapids soon gave way to the thunder of an upcoming waterfall. I knew it was far too soon to be the Virgin Falls the trail was named after, so I was quite pleased to think we were going to have multiple falls to view. With the sound of the falls calling to us, we came to a split in the trail, one sign pointing to “The Overlook 0.5” and the other to Virgin Falls… we had plenty of time and – because it was early – energy, so we decided to take the spur to the top of the ridge.

We broke to the trail on the right and veered onto a steep switchback that meandered up the side of the ridge. While the sign told us it was only a half-mile to the overlook, as with any steep trail, you start to question the validity of the distance marker about ¾ of the way up. Breathing heavy, we came to something else we’ve never encountered before: a ladder going up a ledge next to a muddy trickling slope. Well, McKaye, being a quadruped, isn’t exactly equipped to handle a ladder… so we opted to go off-trail for a moment and put it in 4-wheel-drive. We slipped and slopped our way through the trickle-fed mud slope and then carried on. It was the last major hurdle, it seems, and within just a few hundred yards we found ourselves at Martha’s Pretty Point where 2 separate camping sites were set up with overnight backpackers. It was relatively early and McKaye has a knack for making people feel intimidated, so I beckoned a hello and “gorgeous morning” to those who were awake and meandering around. McKaye and I strode over to the bluff and sat for a moment, taking in the view of the valley gorge and the ridgeline on the far side. Worried we were disturbing those who were asleep, we quickly departed and headed back down trail for a nearby, uninhabited rock that provided a scenic vantage. We again admired the view (well, I admired while McKaye laid on the cool rock bluff) for a moment before heading back down the spur, making a mental note that it would be a great place to have an overnight visit as long as you had plenty of water in tow.

At the bottom of the ridge (which felt true to it’s 0.5 mile distance on the way down) we continued on toward the first of the thundering waterfalls. It wasn’t much further, though the terrain became distinctly more steep and the footing more rocky. Within a mile, we spotted Big Laurel Falls, the first of the falls on our hike. I was immediately enamored by the falls, which had gathered quite a bit of volume by this point, but the cool factor surrounded that the gorge immediately after the falls was completely barren of water. Where was it going? I was lookin at the falls going over the edge yet the immediate view after the falls was as dry as the top of the ridge! We walked further down the trail and then crossed down to Big Laurel Campsite and Falls to marvel that the water came rushing over a ledge that carved itself deeply backward into the rock… the water that fell from the top ran backwards to the ledge and then disappeared under the ground. Needing a closer inspection, we traversed over rocks and boulders to the other side of the falls – the side that is actually nearer the trail – and the cold that was emanating from the area behind the falls was almost tangible. Even though the temperature was still very mild – maybe 55-degree – the temperature at the base of the falls’ cave was barely above freezing. Steam rolled off of my heated body in waves and McKaye’s breath steamed the air with each huff.

Knowing we still had quite a bit of hike to go (and already seeing how steep the trip out would be) we didn’t linger long. Back on the trail I continued to marvel for the next half mile on how the gorge, which was carved and lush, so perfectly hid the raging river under the surface. I wondered for quite some time as I marveled at this on if that was the water that fed Virgin Falls.
About a mile further ahead I heard the unmistakable sound of more water in the distance, the sound often feeling as if it just “appeared” because it’s akin to wind bustling through trees. I strained my ears and then my eyes and, off in the distance through the bare trees I saw the refraction of sunlight from the broken surface of the river. I wondered where it had emerged and if I was going to see that place. I thought the trail would lead me there but, a little further, I came to another sign that read Virgin Falls to the left (0.5 mi) or Virgin Falls via Sheep Cave to the right (0.8 mi). Well, how could I pass up two sights instead of one?! We veered to the right and before long we passed a tiny cave opening, perhaps large enough for one person and not something that I thought warranted my 0.3 mile side-trek. But just around the bend after the cave we came to a very cool waterfall and I wondered at first it if was Virgin Falls. While we didn’t trek to the top of the falls, it fell dozens of feet from the top of the ridge, through a crevasse, hidden for a moment where the rocks had not yet given up their grip holding the crevasse together, and then visible again for just a moment as it plunged deep into the ground. How amazing! Not one waterfall that disappeared immediately into the earth, but TWO! I followed the trail for a moment, enamored by the falls when we came into view of a sign: “Virgin Falls, Left”. Well… this wasn’t even Virgin Falls yet!

Excitement renewed, we didn’t bother to trek to the top of Sheep Cave Falls, deciding instead to see the trails’ namesake. We trekked just a bit further and were almost immediately rewarded with a glimpse of the falls. Honestly, my first thought was “well, these aren’t as cool as the others we passed to get here!” but, thankfully, the closer and closer we got, the more impressive the falls became. While at first you can only see the top 1/3 of the falls (thereby wondering how big they are and coming up short) they steadily revealed themselves as larger than Sheep Cave Falls (the ones we had just passed) and more voluminous than Big Laurel Falls (the first one that had enamored us). Finally we had arrived and settled onto a moss-covered rock to simply stare in wonder. The falls were about 25-feet wide with a steady volume of water cascading over the edge of the bluff and falling over 100 feet to the rock below. The most amazing part was the lack of water at the bottom of the falls. There wasn’t a river raging onward. There wasn’t a pool. There wasn’t even a puddle. The water immediately disappeared (likely, again, going immediately into an underground cave river system). The surrealism of seeing that water – that much water - and it not being in evidence at the bottom of the falls was… well, just odd. After a few minutes of marveling I simply had to see what was at the top of the falls, so we headed up the spur. The top was almost as amazing as the bottom… at the top of the ridge we could easily spy the water coming from the mouth of a cave and, after about 10 feet of exposure, crossing under a natural bridge for 10 feet before traveling another 25 feet to immediately cascade over the bluff. I found myself looking from the cave on my immediately right to the earthen bridge I was standing atop to where the falls occurred on my immediate left. It was enthralling and mystifying at the amazing features of the area. McKaye, on the other hand, was not caring nearly as much about the view and more about the water he wanted a sip of. We carefully walked over some large rocks (he took coercion) to where the water was emerging from the cave. He lapped up some of the coldest and clearest water I have ever seen (I admit I took a few handfuls myself to splash on my sweat-sticky face).

Our destination being reached, it was time to trek back. I checked my watch and it was 10:30. It had taken us about 2.5 hours to trek to the falls. I knew the trip out would be more cumbersome and it was time to get moving. We opted, on the trip out, to take the route that was previously advertised as the shorter leg of the loop, bypassing a second view of Sheep Cave Falls. Shorter, in this case, merely meant steeper. We huffed and puffed as we trudged up the exceedingly steep ridge, part of it being more akin to rock climbing/scrambling than hiking. Within a quarter of a mile, we were both winded and Bandit McKaye, being the more out-of-shape of the two of us, made it to the top of the ridge and immediately threw up most of the water he had just drank. I decided he (and I) needed a break and we were in a great snacking spot. I set him out a small bit of water and I snacked on some trail mix. The wind rustled from every angle and the cry of a red-tailed hawk sang to us on the breeze. Before long a sound drew my attention (not McKaye’s… he was busy napping) and I watched three very healthy-sized white-tailed deer perusing the mountainside. I finished my snack and watched the deer until they were near the bottom of the ridge and out of sight before coercing McKaye to get up and get going. The trek back was, as originally advertised, a very steady incline after that which seemed to go on for eons. The trail out brought far more people who, like us, decided it was a perfect day for a hike. My guess is that most of the people I saw weren’t going to make it to the falls… well, not the namesake falls. They were coming in well after noon and many of them were toting small children and, in one case, a man had a baby strapped into a backpack and was literally carrying a small dog crate… which admittedly gave me pause. We also encountered a woman after my own heart on the way out; she had a huge backpack strapped on and was leashed to two boxers (each carrying a pack as well). We didn’t want to pass them (Bandit has a tendency to be a little overprotective around other dogs) so we crossed the creek at a spot I knew prior to the cable crossing (where I knew she would be slow at best trying to get two dogs and that huge pack across). The last mile of the hike was the most tiresome, not from the terrain but from McKaye wanting to lie down in the creek and relax every couple hundred feet. Finally, at 1:30, we made it back to the trailhead where we both piled up in the Rover and, gleefully, headed for some fast food.

In all I would recommend Virgin Falls to anyone who has the time and physical endurance for the trip. If you’re afraid of making the 9 mile trek round trip in a single visit, take provisions to overnight. All of the campsites – Virgin Falls, Big Laurel Falls, or Martha’s Pretty Overlook – are amazing. The trip itself is strenuous, so be prepared for that and hit the trail at a good time. The fact that you see multiple unique waterfalls makes the trip (which is worthwhile for any one of the falls, much less all 3!) worth every bit of soreness you’ll earn from it.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Yup, I'm a reformed idgit. - by Stephanne (with facts by Chief)

Habituation. Big word, even bigger consequences. Is this a word you know? Maybe. I guarantee you know what it means. Let's try another: Anthropomorphism. Holy crap, she's on a roll today with those stupid big words, right? Give me just a moment and I'll tell you a little about what those words are. My hopes are that I will strike a nerve - one that I know is highly sensitive - with my friend Chief and he'll regale some tales of what he has seen - the damage that we cause - because of these two words. Let's start with the longer one, shall we?

Anthropomorphism. Hmm. Anthro - po - morph - ism. Does that help? Picture in your mind Yogi the Bear. He walked on his 2 back legs. He wore a hat and a tie. He spoke to his lil' buddy, Booboo. He plotted and hatched half-baked schemes to outsmart the Ranger and the guests. He has been anthropomorphized. We gave human traits to a non-human entity. The only thing that Yogi did in a relatively bear-like fashion was steal picnic baskets. Ironically, in all of my childhood, I can't remember even once when Yogi grabbed one of the visitors to his park and chewed on their leg... or charged them and scared them so bad a stream of warmth flowed down the interior leg of their pants. Heck, I don't even remember a bluff charge. The one thing Yogi did that we wish was always the case in real life: he ran away from humans, terrified to get caught.

Now, that other word: habituation. Ha-bit-u-a-shun. Habituation is when we provide a means for wild animals to learn that humans aren't really scary. People think it's cute. I mean heck, isn't it brag-worthy to say that you have grizzlies that eat on your porch? Oh, how about that you go into the wild and live for half a year among and with the grizzlies? I mean, talk about bragging rights! Right? Or how about those misguided humans that think wildlife are so stinkin' cute that they need to be cuddled and turned into pets? Sadly, to attain this goal, the easy way to lure said wildlife is with food. "Bless it, it's just hungry... let's leave it some dog chow." These misguided humans are so dead wrong... and when I say dead, I'm generally referring to the animal they are "taking care of". It's a wild animal. WILD. You want to do it favors? Try leaving it alone and letting it retain its fear of people and staying wild. You like freedom, right? Why would you steal their freedom out of a sense of "helping"? What so many don't realize is that it's not just freedom they are taking from the animal... too often, it's the animals life itself. Why: SHEER SELFISHNESS.

I can go on rabid tirades about both of these words. I can cuss up a storm, stomp my feet and raise my voice... and you know what I hear from the recipient of my tirade? "But it's just so cute!" Yeah? Well, duh... it's a giant, fuzzy, animated version of the fluffy thing you slept with as a kid. But for the love of all that is good and green, stop being so selfish! Before I go off the deep end (where I am constantly threatening to dive anyhow) I'm going to hand this blog over to Chief. You know why? Because he knows. He knows what it's like to say "we have to put that bear down... it's been too habituated and we can't release it back into the wild." Yes, he's made those tough calls... ones that we - the bunny-loving, fern-cuddling people would freak out if we had to make. A long time ago, I was a habituator... maybe not a serial habituator, but I still had that dolt-like mindset that I was doing good. Over time and with education on the reality of things, I have been reformed... but instead of me ranting on endlessly... let him tell you. Chief, care to enlighten?
(Stephanne)

At least I don't have to worry about you sugar coating anything now, Stephanne, do I?

Okay here goes...

There are not many aspects of my job I dislike but there is one aspect I absolutely despise. It is when our guys have to clean up the often unnecessary and always innocent "casualties" of ignorance. In this case, that ignorance is the habituation of our wildlife.

First off, I must stress that ignorance is usually (although not always) caused by a lack of information. And its up to us, as wildlife professionals, to do our part to make sure YOU GUYS have the information you need to make good decisions when it comes to wildlife.

Secondly, notice how "wildlife" is spelled. It's spelled...W-I-L-D-l-i-f-e (hint, hint.). Believe it or not, a wild animal's life is best spent in the wild. Makes sense doesn't it? But why? It's really quite simple. In almost all cases, the further away a wild animal is from man, the longer it lives. This is because we introduce all sorts of man-made threats that the animal doesn't normally encounter. From the obvious, such as vehicle strikes and poaching, to the not-so-obvious, such as disease introduction and behavior modification, animals in general do not fair well in our midst.
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Knowing this, one realizes that "Killing them with Kindness" is a concept that is surely grounded around the habituation of animals.Though folk may believe they are helping animals by feeding them, in truth, they may be doing them more harm than good.

Sooo...

When we say...

WE MEAN IT!

This not only means directly feeding wildlife but also indirectly feeding them by allowing food or garbage to be accessible to them. Trust me, it's not because we like being party poopers, rather, it's because we love our wildlife. By feeding wild animals we often create situations that put their lives in jeopardy.

Though there are thousands of instances and scenarios I can describe, there is one that stands out since it is so pertinent to this story...and it just so happened to involve a bear.And easiest part of this blog is that I don't even have to write. I shall simply let the pictures tell the story...

Before anyone gets too upset...this story has a happy ending. This bear lived!

Officer Hammonds did an absolutely incredible job and was able to save this bear's life. Unfortunately though not all stories have a happy ending. Oftentimes we are called when it's too late. Either the animal has already succumbed, or even worse, we have to make the gut-wrenching decision when an animal can not be released.

And in those dreadful situations, we absolutely hate our job.

Be mindful of our wildlife and enjoy the outdoors!
(And it's not Chief...just Daryl)

Stephanne Dennis is an outdoor enthusiast extraordinaire. A highly skilled backpacker and apex predator specialist, she shares her love of the outdoors with her unrivaled writing skills and her faithful companion, Bandit McKaye, her Anatolian Shepherd. She is currently studying Wildlife Biology at Oregon State University and dedicates her time and skills to the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency and the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Foundation.

Daryl Ratajczak is the Chief of Wildlife and Forestry for the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency. He is an avid outdoorsman enjoying all forms of outdoor recreation from hiking and kayaking to hunting and fishing. He is dedicated to protecting and managing all of Tennessee's wildlife resources and bringing the outdoors to all citizens of Tennessee.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Inspiration in Desperation

Seventy four minutes.

Yep. It took me 74 minutes to write the words seventy four minutes.

That's how long I have sat here fumbling....trying to get this initial blog outta my head.

Writing usually comes easy for me when I'm inspired. And though I'm inspired to write a really kick-butt initial blog for what I hope to be a long series of ramblings about all things good and wild, I can't help but feel uninspired by my surroundings.

Yes, here I sit, in the warm cozy comforts of my living room, well after midnight, draped in a fleece blanket, gas-fireplace masquerading as a long lost friend, and a trusty old Dell, ablaze on my lap bathing me in lukewarm artificial light. Don't get me wrong...'tis quite comfortable. Is it inspiring though? Not in the very least.

So what do I need for inspiration?

Simple...

I need my work.

I absolutely love my job. Hence, my job inspires me.

You see...I'm one of those lucky few that wake up in the morning actually wanting to go to work. Not only that, I'm that sick individual that prefers to think about work even when its well past quittin' time. I despise days off (Ha!...okay I'm lying) but I really do look forward to Mondays.

Call me blessed... Call me lucky... Call me spoiled... Call me crazy...

Yes... I am all of those.

Photo courtesy of nsrl.ttu.edu

Here's the scoop. Every since I was a wee little boy I loved the outdoors. I had an overly extreme fascination with animals. Drawing them came first. Next came the realization that you can learn really cool stuff about them. I think it was the first time I saw a litter of 'possums posing for a picture in the convex depression of a spoon, I was hooked. Though when I think about it now...I really don't think those poor little guys had much of a choice in getting their picture taken.

Deciding what to do with my life was never in question. When my Dad, bless his stubborn and sometimes crotchety soul, fought for me to get an offer at a pretty darn good paying factory job...it was a simple response I made... "I love you Dad, but I'm NOT following in your footsteps."

You see, you busted your butt your whole life to earn those few weeks vacation every year. You took me and the rest of your kids camping...and hunting...and hiking...and fishing. And you instilled my passions, my loves...my inspiration.

You knew everything there was to know about those wonderful animals I so loved. And believe it or not, it wasn't until I got to college that I finally realized your animal "facts" were.... well, not really full of many facts.

But I didn't care. I loved being in the outdoors and I promised myself, if I could live your vacation...that's exactly what I was going to do. And here I am...

Chief of Wildlife for the state of Tennessee...the greatest job in the world.

I live breathe, eat and sleep all things wild. I marvel at the fact that some days I walk in the door and I'm challenged with trying to find out how many bears are now calling the Cumberland Plateau home. A few days ago, after lunch, we discussed making groundbreaking discoveries of Indiana bat summer maternity roosts for the first time ever in middle Tennessee. Just today I debated on whether quail restoration and hog eradication are actually feasible. One of those is still up for debate. And tomorrow, I have to meet with the foresters to determine appropriate conservation measures that need to be taken in the Catoosa Savannah area to keep the area productive for grassland birds.

How cool is that?

Anyhow...I'm beginning to ramble...

Do I love my job?

Yes...Yes I do.

It inspires me.

Am I crazy?

Considering it is now 2:34 a.m.

...I'll leave that one alone.

Being the Conundrum: Animal lover hunter?! - by Stephanne

There are a lot of people who may tell you that an "animal loving hunter" is an oxymoron. I'm not one of those people. There is a way for the two "extremes" to live harmoniously because, quite simply, its only in the extreme cases that it becomes an oxymoron - the norm is quite a different story. Before you get your eyebrows in a furrow at me, let me explain.

There's a sentiment often expressed by a lot of very vocal people that hunters are simply blood-thirsty. I won't say that hunting - like any facet of person or activity - doesn't have its own share of extremism. But, for the most part, it's actually quite different. I don't know a hunter that hunts simply to shoot things. I've heard of one once... but of the hundreds of hunters I know... I don't personally know one that is blood-thirsty. If you can give me the tiniest moment of your time, let me tell you about why *I* hunt, ok? I'll be brief:

I woke up at 4 a.m. and drove to the woods. The moon was a slim sliver of pewter arced in the night sky, providing only the idea of illumination. Its ok, I don't need the light. I know where I'm headed. I walk down a path my feet now know well, the soft crunching of damp fallen leaves under my feet and the mist hovering like an unearthly, glowing blanket. It never fails to amaze me how the mist swirls and dances when I exhale. I wish I could see the "wake" of it after I pass through it. I get to my destination, a wooden ladder climbing up a tree with a semi-comfortable seat at the top. I climb up, rope in, and settle into place, waiting for the horizon to erupt in an array of hues. Slowly the sky melts from the blackest blue to the shimmer of blue gray and, finally, the explosion of purples and pinks and oranges and reds that proclaims daylight has found me. It's during this time, when the sky is waking and the woods are still sleeping that is a magical time - the silhouettes of the trees standing stoically in the mist never ever fails to make me think of eras gone by... people who have shed sweat or tears or blood on these lands, natives creeping through the cover of that mist to provide for their tribe, even ancient predators using the cover of the mist to find prey. This scene is brilliantly new every time I see it yet older than I can fathom. Yes, it is magic indeed.

After the sky is alive and the fogs begin to burn away, I have already been sitting here - motionless - for an hour. I'm 20-feet above the ground and still I am the statue. The air is alive with sound: A cacophony of birds enliven the air, the scuttle of squirrels digging for the last of the acorns to store. Then I hear it. The determined trudge of 4 feet. They're distant. How many can I hear? I close my eyes... focus my hearing... three. I open my eyes, searching for the source of the sound. Then, slowly, I see them making their way through the woods. Its three... what... doe? I use a call to lure them closer. It works and they alter their course to head my way. As they near, I see it's a doe and two yearlings. Technically all 3 are legal and, right now, all 3 are entering into the one thing that makes bow hunting harder than any other type (in my opinion) - entering into the range where I feel comfortable taking a shot. But I don't raise my bow. I know that soon her yearlings will leave her side and start a life on their own, but right now I get more enjoyment from watching them nibble on leaves, completely oblivious that I'm even there. Later I do the same thing with a 4-point buck. That evening, as the light is waning, I see a large doe. She doesn't have any yearlings or fawns with her and she's only 35 yards away. I raise my bow, I aim...

I don't want to shoot because I am blood-thirsty or barely a step above a Neanderthal. I want to shoot because I have been outside all day (all day on numerous occasions, really), not looking for a trophy, but looking for food for my family that is organic, lean, and that I worked for myself. Could I have driven to the store and bought some steaks? Sure. But it's far less green (to use a term we all know). That deer is very green... no fossil fuel use to transport it, no agriculture to sustain its growth, no electricity to process it... Yes... this is as green as it gets.

People promote eating organic foods - growing their own gardens, composting, organic beef, etc... where is the difference in harvesting my own meat rather than that organic beef or pork or whatever? Only... mine is even more natural. And it bothers me when self-proclaimed animal lovers condemn me for being a "Bambi killer" yet they have leather seats and leather boots and a leather coat and eat things like veal. It makes my blood boil. I'm not saying this is all animal activists by any means... but sometimes people get a little too emotional about things on both sides of the fence.

The only thing that I'd ask everyone to do is maybe calm down a little and stop being so emotionally invested in name-calling and side-taking. There's lot of fights out there to engage in... there's many things worth while to involve in.... but animal activists (of which I am a member of many groups) and hunters (of which I am one) can be one-in-the-same.

So... when you have some free time, whether you're a hunter or an animal activist (or both)... do me a favor take a walk in the woods with just you and your trail supplies and consider how powerful of allies we could be if we wouldn't chastise or taunt each other with names... because a lot of us really are on the same side.

Why Hiking? - by Stephanne

Photo on the Apps near Tellico Plains, TN by Stephanne

For anyone who loves the outdoors and physical activity, hiking is a sure thing to win your heart. Hiking is one of the great activities that is done in the wonders of the ‘wild’ that can be done solo, with a partner, or with a group. Hiking is a very easy way to get some serious steps, increase your energy, better your physical health, and really impact your life all together. A deep respect for nature develops quickly. Moreover, hiking really can improve your mental well-being as much as your physical well being.

Regardless if you’re new to hiking or a hiking aficionado, Tennessee (and the southeast) is a great place to be. If you’re new at hiking you can start on nature walks. (See “where to go” below.) Build experience on various trails and work your way to the big hikes that our region is known for. Hiking is a very easy hobby to start, the only bare-bones basics that you need are right shoes and a means to carry hydration – as simple as a bottle of water. As your experience and endurance levels increase, you can add gear slowly to grow with you. When you get to the multi-day, heavy terrain levels you’ll need a full pack. Here’s the average contents of my hiking pack:

The pack itself – my multiday pack is about 70L and my day pack is about 30L. The “L” stands for liters, which just tells you the overall capacity of your pack. Only my big pack is an internal-frame pack; however, both have full straps (don’t stress your shoulders – carrying a pack that has a waist strap is a MUST. Your hips are the best weight-bearing part of your body and you’ll feel a LOT better hiking with even distribution of weight.)
Med Pack – I keep my med pack in a thing called a “stuff stack” (various sized sack that you get to literally “stuff stuff” in). The contents of my med pack vary slightly based on the length and terrain I’m going to. It always has OTC pain killer, benedryl, ace bandage, band-aids, etc.
Water Bladder- 3L
Water filtration system – never drink stream/natural water unless it’s “that or nothing”. Natural water often has microscopic bacteria that can cause severe abdominal upset.
Trail food – light weight and packed with proteins and carbs. Hiking with a pack on heavy terrain burns a TON of calories, make sure your body has fuel!
Water flavor packs. This is one of my treats. I carry these to mix with water if I have to filter it from a stream. While filtered stream water often tastes just fine, the flavor packs help to mask any mineral flavor that may be present.
Rain gear – functional and lightweight. This includes a rain cover for my pack.
GPS, compass AND maps. I never take just one. I use the GPS because it offers a lot of really nifty features but I never trust battery-powered things 100%. Better safe than lost.
Flashlight and headlamp. I carry both all the time because, again, I don’t trust battery-powered things 100%.
If I’m staying overnight, I always have my hammock. It’s more lightweight than a tent and far more comfortable. But, a small tent is just fine for my daughter!
If I’m hiking in bear country I carry bear spray. Also, if I’m staying overnight in bear country I’ll take my bear canister (it’s a bear-proof canister for foods and anything that has an aroma of any kind)
Trekking poles – not a necessity but when you’re clumsy like me, it’s better to be safe.
Always take a very strong respect for nature and remember that what you pack in you also pack out. I also always try to pack-out any trash that I see while I’m on a hike.

PHOTO: Near Cherokee National Forest by Stephanne

If you’re wondering where to go, around this part of the country you have so many options it’s hard to settle on one. If you’re brand new to hiking try a nature walk like the 4.5 mile loop at Harrison Bay State Park. It has very easy terrain that is only occasionally broken by roots or rocks and the elevation variance is virtually nil. If you’re looking for a bit more of a challenge, try The Walls of Jericho (around 8 miles, I think) near Winchester, TN/Stephenson, AL. This hike offers good scenery and a relatively challenging elevation variance. If you live north of the city, try Laurel Snow Pocket Wilderness in Dayton, TN. It offers 2 different hikes, both found from the same trailhead (one is 9 miles r/t and the other about 5 r/t with different terrain for each). Want more wilderness in your hike? There are so many WMAs (Wildlife Management Areas)! (Check out regulations for WMAs before going!) Or try anything near the Cohutta/Cherokee parks that cross the GA/TN/NC lines (easy access near Springer Mtn, GA or Ocoee/Reliance, TN; heavy concentrations of bear). There are hundreds of trails in that area with varied lengths and terrains. The Benton MacCaye (pronounced mack-eye) goes through here; it’s a 300-mile trail). Are you ready to summit a
mountain? I recommend Rainbow Trail in the GSM Park, take the Rainbow Falls trailhead all the way to the summit of Mount Leconte from Gatlinburg stoplight #8 (apx 13 miles r/t, very difficult and I do NOT recommend this as a 1-day trip; there is a free group camp area/shelter at the top that you can use with reservations through GSM). Like I said, around here it’s not a matter of where to go, it’s a matter of picking one trail out of the variety available. (Of note, you can't take your 4-legged bud with you on Federal Park trails.)

What to expect out of hike really varies depending on where you go and the length of time you’re out. Always research where you’re going and what wildlife you may encounter (and how to react to said wildlife!). I’ve encountered rattlesnakes and bears (even been charged by a bear!) and knowing what to do when you encounter wildlife is a MUST. If you’re looking to start hiking and are new to it, join me someday for one of my group-led hikes at Harrison Bay. It’s an easy walk and four-legged, well-behaved leashed friends are welcome. If you’re looking for more, check out some local hiking clubs. I’m out at least twice a month hiking and always willing to share my passion for hiking with anyone!

NOW: go outside and play (responsibly!)

Thursday, November 21, 2013

They Call it a "Tripod" because... - by Stephanne

Picture a tripod in your head. I don’t care what you want your tripod to support… just make sure that you have a clear picture of what it looks like – the structure – in your mind.

Got it?

Great, hold that.

SO… looking at your tripod, what makes it work? Most likely, it’s a connector or connection of the three legs near the top of the tripod. Doesn’t matter if your connection is made by a platform, from rope tying the three legs together, or superglue… it’s generally going to be a functional tripod because it has a connection where the connection is most needed – the top. If you think about why a tripod works, it’s that all three of the legs are equal (or close) in length and all provide the same amount of support where the connection exists at the top. If one leg is drastically shorter, or if one leg is weaker, or if you lack a means of connection for the 3 legs… will the tripod function correctly? I doubt it.

Curious on why I bring this up? Well, probably not, but lend a girl your ears (eyes) and I’ll try to make it worth your time.

I see a vast disconnect between the three legs that hold up the platform of “Wildlife Conservation and Management.” So, what do we look at first… the platform, or the legs? OK, we’ll go for platform because it’s quick and dirty.

In the tripod I’m currently thinking of, the realm of Wildlife Conservation is the platform. We need to define that there is a very distinct difference between the words “conservation” and ”preservation”. Conservation equates to wise and sustainable use. Preservation means “hands off – let it be.” I’d love to be a hardcore preservationist, but I’d be a very hypocritical hardcore preservationist as I’d be all “everyone get the hell out… except me.” <grin> So, seeing my own shortcoming here… I shall stick with Conservation.

Now, let’s look at the three legs that, if they were working together like they should, should provide ample support for my wildlife platform:

Resource Management

The Resource Management aspect encompasses those who are responsible for setting limits (many kinds of limits) and they use science to help them define those limits.

One of the issues that this leg faces is that they are pretty much responsible to a demographic that pays their bills. We like to call this the “hook and bullet” demographic. First, you may need to know:

A lot of people are under the misconception that public lands (wildlife management areas, refuges, etc) and the agency that manages all of the aspects of those are paid for and by the taxpayers. The only thing that makes that statement true is that the people who fund the agency pay and endeavors also happen to be taxpayers. Outside of that, the general public needs to understand that taxpayer dollars from a “general fund” don’t go for these people, land, or animals. The money they receive are additional taxes on hunting gear (i.e. ammo, etc) and from licensing fees (in addition to other small contributing factors).

So now that we have that definition in place, the hurdle here is that when you’re performing a lot of your science and marketing your product, you’re marketing to the people who are tried-and-true buyers of your product. You market to keep your current clientele and – maybe – work a bit to expand that client base. So, the agencies are seen as ‘catering to’ “nothing but hook-and-bullet people” because that is who their usual audience (and their primary customer) is.

Another thing is the lack of standards when it comes to their governing body. The agency doesn’t usually have free reign to do whatever they feel is best for the resource. They have a ‘board’ of sorts that they answer to and who has the power to overrule them. That board, in many cases, is comprised of people who are not required to have degrees or any advanced education in wildlife biology, ecology, or conservation. So the agency may opt to recommend – for example – not hunting a resource due to whatever factors and they can simply be overruled by the governing body.

Academia, Philanthropic

The academic and philanthropic arena is slightly harder to quantify. These are, generally, people that really do mean well. They help to get the word out about things that may need some attention to further their cause. The problem here is a few things.

First, the information they provide to the general public is often one-sided. I remember awhile back sending a letter to my state representative surrounding the export of horses for medical research and/or slaughter. American’s have an affinity toward horses and I feel that same affinity. So, I read what the organization put out, was enraged and emboldened by their comments, and fired off a letter to someone who had a voice. The legislation was passed and I felt vindicated… until I found out that, as a consequence, tons of horses were starving because the people who were ‘farming’ them no longer had an avenue to sell their product. SO, I helped to save many horses from a humane and expedient death only to have them slowly starving on farms. Why? Because I trusted someone else’s information instead of doing some research on my own… I let them make up my mind instead of making it up for myself based on a fuller picture of reality.

Further, the academic and philanthropic organizations will usually work with the local agencies; the agency staff promote the communications and everyone is happy and singing Kum By Ya… until the agency doesn’t do exactly what the organization wants. Then the organization is in the media crying foul.

Lastly, the organizations often have an unrealistic ideal of what should and should not be. I’m a prime example of this… I have an affinity toward apex predators and I have a very staunch belief that they shouldn’t be hunted. Period. Ever. Others will disagree and say that they are entitled to hunt a “surplus” or that they aren’t responsible for the emigration of a species to other areas. Get me fired up on that topic and I promise you that the only “reason” I see is the one that I feel. In this case, I’m likely considered an extremist,… which is where many of the people in this category fall in.

Media and the General Public

The media and the General Public (“GP” from here on) are the scariest group. They both feed on the information above but there seems to be a focus on the extremists. The media likes the extremist because they are far more dramatic and sensational and provide a ‘better, more exciting story’ and the agency science is downplayed as an “excuse”. This mindset means that the GP hears that extremist point of view. So we hear that the evil agency is going to shoot the little birdies or critters because they are a bunch of gun-toting wackos who live only to “shoot sh*t”. Is that true? The vast majority of the time, no. But it’s what the GP hears and, we all know, if it’s on the news it must be true.

Now, remember, this is the same GP that gets to click a button to autopopulate a letter with verbiage and then flood the email boxes of legislators and agency staff… all while only knowing a portion of the truth that we were fed. How scary is that? Think about all the things you complain about in a day that you heard on the news… all the possibilities for the partial information that we use to make a decision on where we stand. It’s really pretty scary how much we rely on a rating-driven company who is out to make a profit to give us a full and unbiased story.

Worse, how much of our decision-making on what we believe is based on what I call “Ignorance-fueled hysteria”? Here’s examples I see of that hysteria in my world:

· “Cougars, bear, and wolves are dangerous predators who will sneak into a subdivision at night and steal a sleeping child from their room.”

I realize this is insane, but this is the attitude that I hear about. It’s a ignorance-fueled hysteria from people who have better odds of winning back-to-back mega lottery drawings than ever even seeing one of these creatures in the wild. Why? Because they don’t go into the wild. Their version of “outdoors” equates to their manicured lawn or that stretch of “outside” between their car and the store. So the question I ask myself often is, “Do these people have as much right to have input on wildlife issues as I – a backpacker – do?” You tell me.

· “We shouldn’t hunt animals because that’s why we have grocery stores.”

That’s fine to know that I can go to a grocery and pick up a slab of ribs that may or may not have antibiotics and hormones and whatever else lingering in them. It is my right to go to that store and choose what meat to buy and when to buy it. But we have other options. Deer, as a good example, have no natural predators (except us) in my region and they are in abundance. I say it is my right to hunt and consume a deer just as it’s my right to “hunt” for a package of meat at the store. Honestly, it’s not really a right… it’s a privilege. Just like it’s a privilege that there are stores and meat I could purchase. I realize the deer is pretty. I realize the deer need a ‘voice’. And that is why I rely on my agency to provide me – a voice for the deer (and, sometimes, a voice for me).

· “We shouldn’t hunt those because we almost drove them to extinction already!”

Well… I’m sorry to say that humans driving something to the brink of extinction is poor management. But – when we can and are lucky and successful – the agency and the academics and the philanthropic organizations and the general public work together to restore a population to sustainable numbers. Letting those numbers then simply continue to increase is great in a preservationist world (which I am fond of in some regard) but it is almost just as irresponsible in the terms of management. Why? Because we are a fickle species who loves to vocalize how wretched we are when we negatively impact a species…. And also equally vocal when a species rebounds to population numbers that we then consider the species a nuisance. Need examples? I’m glad you asked because I have tons! Deer. Geese. Turkey. Black Bear. Cougar (west of me, sadly!). Should I keep going? In the eyes of the GP the wildlife is great as long as it’s not so high in concentration that it’s in their back yard. Hello, hypocrites, welcome to the world

So what’s the lesson that we have learned? Pffft, as if I could begin to pull a lesson out of this? I guess if I had to, the lesson I have learned in the past year is:

My local wildlife agency isn’t evil… they do what they hear and see as what the public wants usually… so the onus is on the public to be logically vocal about things. If you’re “tired” of them ‘catering’ to the usual suspects, then give them a valid and rational reason to listen to you, too. I don’t mean to start blasting them with “don’t hunt EVER EVER again you bad, bad humans!”… I mean “hey… I realize you manage public lands and I’d like to visit them if you gave me a reason to go without a rifle or rod.” Or “tell me who all you talked to, what the science says, and why you’d want to implement a season for blahblah animal?”

It’s simply amazing what we can do with educated dialogue.

And that’s the lesson. Educated, clear, and honest dialogue rather than finger-pointing, whining in the media, blatant assumptions, and more. We need all of the categories of our tripod above to be on a level playing field and being open, clear, honest, and unbiased in what they are telling people.

If you can’t be all of those things, then (in the great words of teenaged texters everywhere): Shut It.