Hiking Nature

Sunday, June 14, 2009
Steve Dieringer and I met at around 7pm and parked on the church property, as I always do on dusk hikes as well as anytime I suspect the lot will be full. (It’s very nice to take leisurely hikes as dusk settles on the lake without having to worry about getting back to my car before the gates close.)

As I type, CNN is on, and the big story by far is the highly questionable election results in Iran. Good grief. It will be interesting to see how things progress, although I have a feeling there will be no official recount or anything resembling fairness. It sure would be interesting to see some REAL exit poll numbers.

We started walking just after 7pm (I was late – sorry, Steve!) and immediately I was again overwhelmed with gratitude that Nashville has such a fantastic nature preserve so close to the city and in close proximity from where I now live. Not many cities of Nashville’s size are lucky enough to have a resource like Radnor Lake.

I can see I am not the only one with such gratitude. Last year’s post about capturing a large Gray Rat Snake has seen recent comments by another big snake fan, a fellow who has seen more rat snakes on a single hike than I have seen all year so far! (I hope that changes soon, although my hiking buddy Steve does not want to see any snakes; hell, I can barely talk him into capturing me on video as I capture the snake.)

I forgot my camera so we did not take the usual shots at the bridge. We headed straight for what’s now the main attraction at Radnor Lake – the Bald Eagle which has returned. Last summer, I believe it was three (3) Bald Eagles that took up temporary residence at Radnor Lake for about six (6) weeks. I’m confident the eagle now hanging out at Radnor is one of the same; its home base is in the exact same area as the eagles from last summer. It’s perfect, since last year we decided to designate one of the coves as “Eagle Cove,” which is the cove hikers enjoy seeing from the only platform on the Lake Trail (north) side of Radnor Lake, not too far in from the spillway and bridge. If you’re on the platform, the bald eagle hangs out on the peninsula directly across the cove – Eagle Cove.

Both out of shape, we got our strenuous exercise in by hiking up to Ganier Ridge and pausing for a few moments on the double bench at the top of the steep climb. It felt great to be enjoying the scenery so much as those wonderful endorphins and serotonin gradually kicked in to give me that runner’s high, just about the best natural high one can obtain!

We doubled back from the bench atop Ganier, and once we got close to the lake, we could hear the cries of the eagle. From our vantage point, it seemed the eagle was flying or had flown from the spot on “Eagle Peninsula” where it was on our hike in. I imagined the eagle to be fishing, successfully I might add, though we did not get to see it.

Both of us plan to return to the trails in on Monday morning (tomorrow), to see what the eagle is up to in the morning hours.

If anyone reading this is familiar with Bald Eagle habitry, then I would sure like to gain some of that knowledge. For instance, it is typical eagle behavior to migrate or change locations during the summer months — and if so, for what purpose(s)? What are the chances the Bald Eagle will soon make Radnor Lake its year-round home? If not, why not? I will Google this info soon and post some good eagle facts on here, since it is now very relevant for us nature-loving Radnor Lake hikers.

When we passed by the Eagle Cove platform and looked on Eagle Peninsula, we did not see the eagle there. We paused on the benches for a few minutes and meditated some – at least I assume my hiking buddy was probably engrossed in spiritual reflection as was I. It has been too long since my last deep reflection of note; it served as a great reminder of just how wonderful, even essential, such psychological pursuits really are.

Sunday, April 12, 2009
When one spies an elongate furry rodent at Radnor Lake in Nashville, Tennessee, chances are extremely good – probably on the order of 95% — that the mammal is an otter.

If there are any avid, longtime readers of this blog out there (a fellow can dream, can’t he?), then you will recall the same conversation last year when I photographed an otter running through the woods quite a ways from the lake:

Is This a Mink or a River Otter?
Northern River Otter vs. American Mink
Solved: T’was a Northern River Otter

On Thursday, I was taking a leisurely stroll on the lake trail with my sister’s family. Andrew and I were out front and we’d just resumed walking after a turtle-counting pause. (Sarah ended up counting around 73 turtles that day, most of them sunning themselves on logs poking up from Radnor Lake’s surface.) We were not far from the spillway at this point.

As we walked past a pile of brush alongside the freshly mulched trail, Andrew and I heard some rustling from within the thick tangle of weeds and sticks. I stopped to try to determine exactly what type of critter was making the noise, hoping for a large snake. Most often, rustlings within thick brush near the trail – say, within five (5) feet or so of the trail – are chipmunks or brush-loving birds such as the Carolina Wren. Rustlings farther from the trail are usually squirrels, chipmunks, or doe (a deer — or many). Every now and then, when I get lucky, it’s a fine reptile specimen — such as a gray rat snake.

A dark brown, elongate, furry mammal ran out of the brush towards the water’s edge, then casually (considering I was running along the trail trying to capture it for posterity) traveled along the bank back toward the spillway. I kept it the rodent in sight for at least a minute before it disappeared.

I have heard rumblings of rumblings that I did not see a mink after all, and that it was in fact an otter. Well, I hope those rumblings are wrong, but I realize that I carry the burden of proof. I have seen and photographed my share of otters at Radnor Lake, and I really do not think this was an otter – unless it was a pup. I suppose that is possible. This animal seemed darker and smaller than an otter, and I cannot recall it having the thick tail of an otter. It was ferret-like.

I will carefully examine the photos – assuming I captured it on digital (I was about to say ‘film’), and zoom in as much as I can, and I shall report back with the results. Stay tuned!

(pics coming this afternoon)

The event — a guided wild edible plant hunt — takes place at 2:00pm on Sunday, April 19, 2009.

Unbeknownst to most of us, nature grows a bounty of nutrition we consider to be weeds — in our lawns, gardens, and even in alleys. Join us for a wild edible plant walking tour with Naturalist Mary Dunlap.

Mrs. Dunlap has great enthusiasm for plants and seems to possess an unparalleled ability to spot and identify wild edibles. She has been in love with nature and has studied nature rigorously for over 50 years. Mrs Dunlap led many educational nature walks focusing on a variety of subjects during her tenure as a Naturalist at Radnor Lake, and also taught at TSU. Ever the vigilant nature lover, Mrs. Dunlap even forages for various wild delectables in her own backyard as well as in her South Nashville neighborhood!

The walk will take place at the homestead residence of her daughter, Cindy Moonrose, located at 5155 Drakes Branch Road.

This wild edible guided tour will be an easy walk. Bring a camera and notebook if you wish. A $10 donation is requested for the walk.

There is also an opportunity to purchase vermicompost (worm castings) at $1 per gallon; just bring and fill your own container.

There will be a small selection of plants for sale, including mugwort, comfrey, chervil, and purple shamrocks. Bring your own container for the chervil. A plug of it planted in your garden will go to seed, and you can collect the seeds and/or let chervil naturally reseed itself.

If you have any questions, please contact Cindy Moonrose at 876-2635 or email Cindy at cindymoonrose@nashville.net.

If you have not participated in a group event with us before, please email Cindy for directions. Internet mapping tools will not quite get you to the house; there are several homes off the blacktop which are served by the same gravel road. You can use Google Maps to learn most of the route, but again, you will need to call!

View Larger Map

References, Resources

• The Happy Homesteader
• Being Frugal: Homesteading
• Vermicomposting

Sunday, March 08, 2009

After checking the radar for possible storms, I remembered we have an extra hour before dark now – excellent! Plenty of time for a short hike at Radnor Lake.

It was 71 degrees out; cloudy and windy too, with gusts up to 17mph, according to the weather site. I parked the car at the old Otter Creek church building and walked from there. The clouds had momentarily dispersed, so there was some sunshine now. I opted to forego the iPod today; I’d stick with my thoughts during the walk, for better or worse.

I got a couple of shots of the blossoming dogwoods. Good grief, is is that time already? And won’t it just freeze again? Probably…

I walked through parking lot and onto the nearest trail, through the woods, by the creek, to the spillway, and took my standard bridge shot. I did not photograph the other standard spillway scene, since a family of hikers was on the spot.

I walked across the damn – the white gravel road – and up Otter Creek a short ways to the South Cove trailhead. As I approached the first steep incline where there are railroad-tie steps, I heard some rustling leaves and looked up to find a group of ten (10) does. That’s about the largest group I have ever seen together; I believe my previous record was eight (8) doe together.

I started a pile of rocks. Mike had a name for this, but I have forgotten it. How would I Google that – “pile of rocks next to hiking trail”? OK, the word is cairn. Did you know it?

In some regions, piles of rocks used to mark hiking trails are called “ducks” or “duckies”. These are typically smaller cairns, so named because some would have a “beak” pointing in the direction of the route. An expression “two rocks do not make a duck” reminds hikers that just one rock resting upon another could be the result of accident or nature rather than intentional trail marking.

OK, so what do I start calling my little rock piles? Cairns? Duckies? After fooling with the cairn, I hiked a few yards when suddenly a large pileated woodpecker took off from a nearby tree as I approached, and flew directly past my head so that I could hear it.

Fortunately, I did not scare myself half to death today by startling a doe, like I did yesterday. I was hiking back from the ridge on South Cove, apparently deep in thought, when a nearby large doe (which I had not yet seen) suddenly gave a loud snort — and just about startled the vinegar from my loins. Whew!

Oddly, from the time I stepped onto the trail until I finished the hike and reached my car, I passed not a single other person. This was despite the fact that it was packed the rest of the time.

Monday, February 16, 2009

When I returned to the house today from a meeting and errands – most of which were a waste of time, with today being President’s Day – I flipped the boob tube onto the Discovery Channel and noted that Dirty Jobs was on. I expected the creepy show A Haunting to be on, but no matter; today’s Dirty Jobs is all about reptile care and keeping their captive homes clean.

This is my second post having to do with the giant Alligator Snapping Turtle – a primitive reptile that I believe calls Radnor Lake home. (NOTE: The top photo shows a common snapping turtle with his meaty legs outstretched as it suns itself on a log. Alligator snappers have not yet been confirmed at Radnor Lake.)

I was amazed to hear how old these creatures can get in the wild. According to a reptile keeper interviewed on today’s episode of Dirty Jobs, sometimes large alligator snapper specimens are found with wounds that turn out to be caused by the Civil War-era musket! Likewise, specimens killed and harvested have been found with musket balls still inside them.

It takes twelve years for alligator snapping turtles to reach maturity.

Quote: It is thought that alligator snapping turtles can live to be one hundred and fifty years old if they are left in the wild. Captive alligator snapping turtles usually live between twenty and seventy years.

The alligator snapping turtle, Macroclemys temminckii, is confined to the Gulf of Mexico drainages of the United States and is widespread in the lower Mississippi Valley. Its range extends from Georgia and northwestern Florida to eastern Texas and can be found as far north as southeast Kansas, southeast Iowa, Illinois and Indiana. Distribution in Alabama is nearly statewide. There have been no documented reports of its occurrence in the Tennessee River system in Alabama, but collections have been made from Bear Creek in Mississippi, a tributary of the Tennessee River.

More about Alligator Snappers

Pet Turtle Care
Southeastern Outdoors Forum: Alligator Snapping Turtle Rehabilitated and Released
Fact Sheet – Smithsonian National Zoological Park

Nichols, M., J. Pruitt, D. Munsey, G. Good, B. Meyer, K. Urban, K. Francl and P. DiLaura. 1999. “Macrochelys temminckii” (On-line), Animal Diversity Web.

Pictures - Animal Diversity Web
National Geographic - Alligator Snapper
Brookfield Zoo
Tortoise.org Archives

Friday, February 13, 2009

There are quite a few great things about hiking at Radnor Lake in Nashville, and one of them has got to be running into people from the past! I must have run into dozens of former coworkers, employers, old party friends, and other acquaintances while hiking at Radnor Lake since I moved back to my hometown of Nashville from Atlanta in 2006.

Some of these old acquaintances I might never again have recalled, while others I thought of numerous times over the years, thanks to one memory jogger or another. Joel definitely qualifies as the latter. Anyone who knows Joel cannot help but think of him as they drive through Green Hills between Thanksgiving and Christmas; he’s the guy that sells Fraser firs and other xmas trees at Hillsboro High School, right across from the Mall at Green Hills.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Herds of Nashville area hikers converged upon Radnor Lake this weekend, and no one wonders why: last week’s short but brutal cold snap was followed closely by a suite of spring-like days that has yet to end. This will almost certainly amount to bad news for plants tempted to bloom early — and given the forecast of three more consecutive 60+-degree days, many plants will do just that. In every other respect I can think of, however, this weather simply ROCKS.

Having been in bed from around dawn until 2pm, I did not make the final decision to hike until 3:30pm. (No, I was not out on the town. I was not even out. My circadian rhythm is off.) As usual, I am very glad I chose to hit the trails today.

Friend and fellow hiker Steve D. phoned me on his way to Radnor Lake, so I made it a personal challenge to catch up to him after his 15-minute head start. Fortunately, Steve was delayed by a clogged parking lot on the east side; he turned around and drove to the west side (off Granny White Pike) and parked at the old Otter Creek church building. Had it not been for that, I’d definitely have hiked solo today.

Although I wanted to catch up with Steve, I did not forgo my standard photography. There are several very specific pictures I take each and every time I hike at Radnor Lake. There are a few reasons for this, but the most potentially interesting purpose for accumulating specific shots over time is a future time-lapse photography experiment. More on that later.

I guessed that I would first glimpse Steve hiking up the very steep section leading to Ganier Ridge; that should slow him down significantly, I surmised. But when I reached that area, he was nowhere to be seen. At that point, I no longer expected to catch up with him; however, I spotted him around the first bend on the ridge. Success! Company! Conversation!

When I finally caught up with Steve, he was photographing a couple of does by the Ganier memorial landmark up on Ganier Ridge. He mentioned seeing an owl earlier, then proved it by showing me three pictures he had taken of this magnificent bird of prey; Steve had gotten fairly close to it, so his pictures turned out to be among the best, highest-resolution Barred Owl shots anyone has yet sent to me to consider for inclusion on these websites. Great shots, Steve!

It was a lively hike with Steve today. We had lots to talk about, it seemed, and there was very little quiet time. Sometimes hiking with a friend is full of banter from start to finish, and sometimes very little is said for the entire duration of the hike; most of my hikes with friends fall somewhere in-between. The hike we had today was definitely as much a social experience as it was a cardiovascular one.

I must have finally caught up on my sleep, for I was in quite a good mood – so much so, in fact, that I decided to try to elicit a smile from every hiker going the opposite direction. Yeah, I know; how cheesy! This challenge of fetching smiles from passersby must be something I heard on one of those “be-the-best-you-can-be” type audio programs I often listened to in my 20s. Was it Brian Tracy, perhaps, or was it a Buddhist thing? I know it wasn’t Tony Robbins; he was always a bit much for me. Anyway, I forgot about spreading smiles to strangers once I had caught up to Steve.

In contrast to this afternoon’s mood of elation, there are days when I actually avoid the eye contact of all other hikers. Fortunately, those low times are few and far between these days; yet, I may remain slightly envious of those few people who appear to be ensconced in a perpetually, genuinely jovial state of mind!

Doe were everywhere today, though there was still no sign of the grotesquely injured deer Mike and I saw a few weeks ago. Families and other small groups of hikers, especially those with children, stopped frequently to admire and photograph the foraging does (which all well and good — as long as they do not block the trail). Frequent hikers often gradually cease to acknowledge – or even notice — the deer, they are such standard fixtures of Radnor Lake State Park. It seems I have gotten out of the habit of counting the deer as I hike, for some reason. Perhaps it is due to the fact that friend and fellow hiker Mike E. counted 35 deer on a single hike at Radnor Lake one day last week, and I think my record is in the low 20s. (Have I given up? Surely not!)

Before I knew it, dusk had arrived; it was time to head back. Steve and I parted ways as he chose to take the road back to Granny White and I chose to take the South Lake Trail. In my mind, given the following, I still had plenty of legal hiking time:

• the full 4.5 miles usually takes around 1.5 hours
• I began my hike a little after 3pm
• sunset would not occur until 5:22pm
• unofficially, “dark” is thirty minutes after sunset (where did I hear this?)

So I was surprised to see that, upon my return, the west parking lot was completely empty, except for a huge pile of great-smelling xmas tree mulch; the gates were closed and locked. A quick look at my notes uncovered the error in my thinking: I had started my hike closer to 4pm than 3pm. No wonder it was getting dark so fast! This is the first time ever — in my rich and varied history of hiking at Radnor Lake – to see the gates locked. It’s another personal Radnor Lake first, though perhaps one of the very least interesting ones.

Written Wednesday night, November 26, 2008

I did not even think about a Thanksgiving Day hike until today; but once I did, I simply HAD to follow through. Having had such scant opportunity to hike lately due to the “second” job I’m now working, I wanted to take advantage of Thanksgiving Day to get some exercise for starters, but also to procure a heaping helping of spiritual fulfillment: peace, wonder, awe, gratitude, and serenity of the sort only Mother Nature can deliver.

I figured I’d mention the possibility of this turkey day hike to a couple of friends with whom I’ve hiked recently, for the majority of this small group literally cannot get enough of it, they love to hike so much. But I also guessed that I would end up hiking alone, given both the late notice and holiday interruption.

To my delight, at least three of us will be meeting at Percy Warner Park at 8am for the hike, which will be either 4.5 miles (if we hike the Mossy Ridge trail only) or 7 miles (if we hike Mossy Ridge plus the Warner Woods trail).

Let us hook up at the usual Percy Warner meeting spot: the small gravel parking lot near the Deep Wells entrance to the park, off Highway 100. [ Percy Warner Park map ]  More detailed directions are given below.

Tomorrow’s weather forecast calls for a high of 61 under sunny skies — but not while we are hiking! The morning temps are predicted to be 40 degrees at 7am, climbing to the low 50s by the time we are finished (10:30ish).

More Detailed Directions

We are meeting in a gravel parking lot right smack in the middle of the huge Percy Warner park. I have attached a map for your convenience; it’s a great map of the park.

The entrance is on the south side, off Hwy 100 near the Harris Teeter (I think it’s still a HT, at least) grocery store in Belle Meade. If you live anywhere near Alano, you’ll probably use either Harding Place or Old Hickory to get to Hwy 100.

• Take Harding Place until it ends on Hwy 100
• Left on Hwy 100
• Left into “Deep Wells” entrance into PW park
• Bear right when park road forks, toward the picnic shelters
• Follow the narrow winding road until you get to a gravel parking lot

Although I do not remember seeing a Deep Wells sign, you cannot miss it as it is the first major entrance into the park off Hwy. 100 from Belle Meade, and the entrance is adorned with large rock walls on either side. Just give me a yell if you have any questions. See you guys and girls there!

There were so many cars on the west side of Radnor Lake that I had to park on the street, and cars were stretched almost halfway up the Otter Creek Road hill. That’s quite a showing, but not too surprising for a nice, though hot, morning in Nashville.

I walked past the spillway, took a left and headed toward Ganier Ridge, and doubled back once I’d climbed the steep hill.

Near the top, I noticed some movement at the base of a tree, but whatever it was, it was too tiny to register in my mind as a possible reptile. Upon closer inspection, there were at least three very young fence lizards — a couple on this tree and another a few feet away.  These lizards were so tiny, they must have hatched quite recently.  I got a couple of pictures which I will post as soon as I can.

There were a couple of hikers that paused their approach from the ridge when they saw me engaged in apparent tree trunk photography. These kindly hikers turned out to be Toni and Becky, both CPAs here in Nashville.  We were having a nice conversation until our paths diverged.  Reflecting back, I wish I had gone their way and continued the conversation rather than heading my own way.  Isn’t that just like me, the introvert? (Yes.)

Anyway, the hike was quite enjoyable, at least during the portion spent talking with my fellow hikers, for I had gotten out of my head: not  a particularly pleasant place to be this morning. The remainder of the day will be better, I’m sure.  With that, I am off to a meeting. Pics to come later.

Friday, August 22, 2008

I have long suspected that the alligator snapper resides at Radnor Lake, but I have no evidence to present. There was, however, some convincing hearsay from a nurse walking on Otter Creek Road with her young daughter. She confidently answered a couple of questions about a supposedly amazing, huge turtle sighting she had within the last year, and her answers pointed to the Alligator Snapper. Two primary characteristics the aforementioned road-crossing turtle had were the large size and the prominently ridged carapace, or shell.

However, Dr. James T. Arnett, a longtime family friend and biology professor at Lipscomb University (see his comment under this post), has conducted extensive, formal turtle research at Radnor Lake spanning several years, and he seems nearly positive that the Alligator Snapper is NOT a local resident.

My longtime fascination with the alligator snapper finally came to mind while I was online, so I started digging around a bit. The results were surprising and encouraging, given the fact that the “official” (i.e., per a rather dated Petersen Field Guide I pulled off my bookshelf) range of the Alligator Snapping Turtle does NOT include Nashville – although Nashville DOES have an “X” on the map, meaning that the species has been spotted in Nashville by a credible herpetologist or similar professional.

The Army Corps of Engineers says alligator snappers are Tennessee residents (see Corps Inventory). Of course, this does not make them Radnor Lake residents, necessarily; however, given the completely wild and unspoiled environment of Radnor Lake, I would be rather surprised to find the alligator snapping turtle dwells in Nashville but NOT at Radnor Lake. (NOTE: I have no evidence of Nashville residency for alligator snappers; the Corps of Engineers lists them in the Memphis area, not Nashville.)

On the other hand, how on earth would an alligator snapper make its way to Radnor Lake? It is fascinating how creatures populate new areas. How did ANY of the aquatic reptiles and amphibians come to make their home at Radnor? Obviously they were either released there or made their way over land. That is a mind bender to be addressed at another time, perhaps, but suffice it to say that perhaps spontaneous generation theories from the 1800s and earlier were not as idiotic as once I figured.

I would love to see an Alligator snapper in the wild, but collecting wild specimens of this protected turtle is prohibited in Tennessee and a few other states. I see Common Snapping Turtles quite frequently at Radnor Lake, and some of them are huge in relation to the commons I have seen and/or captured (and released) in Brown’s Creek during my childhood. But get this:

There is an unverified report of a 403-pound alligator snapping turtle found in the Neosho River in Kansas in 1937, but the largest one actually on record is 236 lb, and housed at Brookfield Zoo in Chicago, Illinois. They generally do not grow quite that large. Average adult size is around 26 inches shell length with a weight of 175 lb. Males are typically larger than females. Alligator snapping turtles can also range in length from 16 to 32 inches. (Source: Wikipedia.com)

Now there’s a turtle I would like to see; and I’m not proud of the fact that snapping turtle soup also came to mind. (I have enjoyed this delicacy three or four times at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse over the years, but I would not support such a menu item if I learned that any cruelty was involved in obtaining this soup ingredient.

Actually, I just found this here:

World’s Largest Alligator Snapping Turtle – Chattanooga – This turtle is on display at the Tennessee Aquarium at One Broad Street in Chattanooga. As the world’s largest alligator snapping turtle, he tips the scales at 249 pounds. His species is unique to America. The turtle is highly secretive in its natural habitat, walking along stream bottoms, hiding during daylight hours and becoming active at night. Unlike other aquatic turtles, alligator snappers cannot remain submerged for long periods of time, and are considered an ambush predator, entices fish within striking distance by a pseudo-annelid lure located on the floor of its mouth. Snappers are considered dangerous when provoked and do not let go once they have closed their beak. Alligator snapping turtles have been around since dinosaurs ruled the earth, are declining in this century and may one day be extinct. 800-262-0695; www.tnawua.org

Nashville Alligator Snappers? Alligator Snapping Turtles on the Web

Arkive – Images of Life on Earth

Midwest Turtles

Resources for My Fellow Nashville Reptile Lovers

Herp Digest

Center for Reptile and Amphibian Conservation and Management