68: The Canoeing Professor
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| Eastern Painted Turtles |
C H A R L O T T E S V I L L E, V A
In
1966 the City of Charlottesville dammed the South Fork of the Rivanna River. The reservoir it formed has been providing
water needs for the city and surrounding county ever since. Although situated in an urban setting, the
reservoir created miles of undisturbed, forested shoreline and a number of
secluded coves. In the early 70’s, this
newly found reservoir-ecology caught the attention of a local biology professor.
Elizabeth
Conant loved canoeing the waters of Ivy Creek, but one day she spotted survey
stakes. Knowing shoreline development
was a serious threat to this newly formed ecology, she took action calling the
local office of The Nature Conservancy (TNC).
Following that call was a wave of events and efforts all leading toward
the creation of what today is the 215-acre Ivy Creek Natural Area which
preserves the same canoeing experience Ms. Conant enjoyed in the 70’s.
Though
there is plenty of controversy around the building of dams, once completed, all
end with a final decision: what to do
with the newly formed shoreline - develop it or preserve it? Who doesn’t love waterfront property? Elsewhere in Virginia, the dam that created
Smith Mountain Lake and its miles of shoreline has been developed into a
vacation hotspot speckled with many waterfront homes and businesses. The shoreline at Lake Moomaw, in contrast,
remains a pristine wildlife management area under protection of the state’s
inland fisheries division. Sometimes the
conflict between development and preservation comes down to passion. And at Ivy Creek, passion for preservation
won, inspired simply by a professor in a canoe.
Though
preservation won, there are battle scars at Ivy Creek. Erosion, both natural and from nearby urban development,
is a continuing problem for the reservoir. Silt deposition continues to form
islands, and the water in the reservoir is often a brownish murk. Optimistically though, these scars also highlight
the compromising way in which development and nature can coexist.
* * * * * *
To
visit Ivy Creek during a pandemic is both odd and uplifting. The governor’s stay-at-home executive order
allows for “Engaging in outdoor activity,
provided individuals comply with social distancing requirements”. The trails at Ivy Creek are open, but
like two cars meeting on a one-laner, hikers need to oddly step far aside to
let others pass with socially acceptable distances between them. Interactions with fellow visitors are limited
to head nods, quick waves, and a minimum of words, sometime spoken from behind
masks.
My
two hour drive to Ivy Creek is a lovely one, in part leading several miles down
a favorite route. F. T. Valley Road
winds along the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains past Old Rag - one of its
most impressive peaks. And in early
spring with greens, pinks, and white blooming while blue skies break through a
dramatic weather front makes for an exceptionally visual ride.
My
wife and I meet our daughter and her boyfriend in a field for a picnic. We keep our distance while eating and then
set out toward the Peninsula Trail which leads to the furthest point from our
parked car on this 215-acre property.
It’s assumed the crowds will thin as we proceed.
The
trail leading toward the peninsula is well groomed and undulates interestingly
down a ravine to the reservoir’s edge.
It follows the shoreline which is abuzz with Canada geese, Mallards, and
families of sunning Eastern Painted turtles.
The trail then rises away from the shoreline to the spine of the
peninsula and passes the Bartholomew Oak, the oldest, most-majestic, and the
only placarded tree on the property.
Pandemic
or not, setting out on a trail with family on a Saturday morning is something
that has happened frequently throughout my life, so this jaunt through the
woods brings a touch of normalcy to an otherwise unsettled time. The brightly
lit forest in early spring creates a brilliant palette. The lack of full foliage more deeply reveals
the connections between this preserved land’s topography, dendrology, and hydrology. Thoughts
of infection rates and personal protective gear are pleasantly replaced by the
challenge of identifying tree and bird species.
We
end up at the peninsula tip and have it to ourselves, just as planned. Alone, we witness up-close a foraging Great
Blue Heron. Unfazed, the majestic bird
fishes just ten yards from us; indifferent to our presence. Nearby, Merlins, Monarchs, Muskrats, Marbled
salamanders and hundreds of other species are equally unfazed… and unaware that
the environment they exist in was preserved long ago by a professor in a
canoe.
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| Great Blue Heron |
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