Saturday, March 25, 2017

An Impromptu Late Summer Afternoon Boat Ride

On a rainy spring afternoon with lots of showers and temperature roller coasters still in the forecast, I figured a touch of summer might be in order. One of my nephews (Jacob) and I had the opportunity to get out on the West Marsh together for a 15 minute boat ride after a full day setting up our shop. While the video is now dated (and just shot from his hip using an iPhone), I appreciated that he took the time to edit it, set it to music, and post it on YouTube.

These 59 seconds of footage are telling. They start to give you a taste of what it feels like to be in the marsh in the "dog days" of summer. It's an experience that many more people should have; it's an experience that I'm finding tends to stick with you.




P.S. Thanks to a tip from a friend, we just pulled the trigger on a decent-quality Canon (the SX60, for those interested) to give us a practical way to capture more stills and video shorts while working in the marsh. It won't likely launch us into the pages of National Geographic, but it will be fun to see what it helps us capture and share.

Friday, March 24, 2017

The Fiercest Invader Yet

What may appear on first blush to be tranquil and serene now amounts to the single largest vegetative management challenge on Lake Erie coastal marshes (and beyond). It may present the biggest management challenge, period.

So, let's recap a bit. A bug can create problems (emerald ash borer) and a bug can solve problems (loosestrife beetles), but one common thread and nearly universal truth already developing is that invasive species tend to be a major problem with far-reaching negative consequences. Therefore, invasive species, particularly plant species, are central to both the marsh landscape and the management of the landscape. To continue the tale then, we move to the next chapter.

Just as researchers and managers on the ground were starting to make headway via the Galerucella beetle and purple loosestrife was starting to show a chink in the armor (late 1990s in the Western Basin), yet another aggressor, Phragmites australis, or "Phrag" as it is affectionately referred to by manywas on deck as the next big invader.

To understand why this invasive was poised to fill any void, the role of water levels should be briefly explained. One common refrain that I'll do my best not to repeat ad nauseum is that water levels -- and the timing and extent of water level fluctuations -- are the engine that drives most all other living things in the marsh. Even an inch or two more or less can mean all the difference as to what plants grow (or don't grow) . . . and the resulting plant diversity (or monoculture) has a profound domino effect on everything else that might visit or rely on the resulting vegetative community.

It is also important to understand that Lake Erie -- and all the Great Lakes, for that matter -- have historically undergone cyclical swings in basin-wide water levels, typically measured over decades. The southwestern Lake Erie region had undergone a significant spike aptly referred to as "high water years" in the early 1970s, but by 2000, Great Lakes water levels had returned to long-term averages. As water levels continued to drop, the table was set for "Common Reed" (P. australis) to become entirely too common.

While there is (or at least was) a native taxa, the Phrag that quickly began forming dense thickets of vegetation unsuitable for any other native fauna was another Eurasian import. The unusually broad growth tolerances in terms of water levels (moist soils to water depths of more than 3' -- unheard of by native species) along with the rapid expansion of above ground biomass (up to 20' horizontally per year) -- meant that Phrag could block light to other plants in an evolutionary instant and convert a broad range of wetland habitats into a Phragmites monoculture very quickly.

And convert it did. Consider further that Phrag can grow up to 20' tall (8-12' on average in Bay View) and so thick that a grown adult is hard-pressed to walk through it, and it becomes clear why Phrag quickly became a force to be reckoned with. At it's worst, Phragmites may have covered 25% of Standing Rush property. The only reason it didn't press further was (1) it was in a turf war with loosestrife early on, and (2) water levels could be intentionally kept high enough, long enough, that Phrag could only go so far.

This is a chapter with many subplots, so more on the oh-so COMMON reed will most certainly follow.


Thursday, March 23, 2017

Some Unexpected Management Partners

Small but mighty: Galerucella beetle perched on an unsuspecting purple loosestrife leaf. Photo by A. Rusch

As much as I love a good cliffhanger, before moving on to introduce the next major thug (Phragmites) in what I’m recognizing is becoming a lineup of criminal invasive species, I think it’s worth telling the rest of the purple loosestrife story. While the battle for real estate in Lake Erie coastal marshes (and wetlands all over the state and region) was definitively being won by PL, new recruits to take on the fight were being investigated.

Traditional management methods (e.g. water level manipulation, mowing, disking, spraying) proved to have little lasting impact to curb the sea of purple. Ironically, the solution – or at least a meaningful step toward it – again came in the form of some tiny beetles from far-away lands. And unlike the borer that indiscriminately killed all the ash trees (see 3/21/17), these tiny insects were intentionally introduced as a carefully scripted form of “biocontrol.”

While studies were being conducted throughout the U.S. (and abroad), the Division of Wildlife was the group most actively engaged in introducing Galerucella beetles to Ohio. The long-time owner of a neighboring private marsh was distraught at the seismic shift in habitat he was witnessing and as such was willing to be a guinea pig. Beetles were first introduced into the broader Bay View marsh complex in the early to mid-1990s as one of the first test sites in the state. The results have been astounding. There are plenty of examples of biocontrol efforts gone bad (think Frankenstein fish), but this was a case where the beetles took hold, ate what they were supposed to eat when they were supposed to eat it, and left everything else pretty much alone. As PL numbers decline, so do beetle numbers.

This has been the case now for more than two decades. Loosestrife still exists on the marsh, but the populations are isolated and the beetles are lying in wait to rise up and consume anything that gets too out of control. (As an aside that we can talk about later, the resulting “seed bed” – viable seeds residing in underlying sediment – from all those years of rampant proliferation by PL give the beetles plenty of job security.)

Purple loosestrife went from an epidemic that many assumed would just become the new normal, to a manageable irritant. Unfortunately for area marshes, just as PL started its precipitous decline, a new monster was rapidly gaining a foothold . . .

(I told you that I loved cliffhangers!)


Dig deeper:

Invasive Plants of Ohio Fact Sheet
Biological Control of Purple Loosestrife


Wednesday, March 22, 2017

One of the Worst of the Worst: Purple Loosestrife (PL)

A "sea of purple" -- loosestrife reigns supreme; a view from the main West Marsh, northwest taken some time in the early 1990s. (Larger pedaled, pink blooms in foreground are the native but still aggressive Hibiscus moscheutos).

Before I get too far into our woodland restoration, I think it makes sense to at least dip our toes into the marsh . . . This story is a classic tale of good intentions gone bad. 

Purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) -- or PL, as it will be abbreviated here -- is native to Europe and Asia. The plant was first introduced from Great Britain to the northeastern United States and Canada in the early 1800s for its medicinal, decorative, and horticultural values, possibly by bee keepers. There’s no denying it, in isolation and out of context it’s a pretty plant.

As is so often the case, beyond intentional planting, purple loosestrife could have also been introduced through various seed sources such as ship ballast, livestock feed, and animal bedding. Soon after entry, it was entrenched and smoldering, preparing to spread like wildfire.

According to the USFWS, loosestrife is now perhaps the most prevalent invasive species in the United States, covering approximately 400,000 acres of federal land, including wetlands, marshes, pastures and riparian meadows. While most prevalent in the northeast and Great Lakes, it is has now swept into each of the lower 48 states except Florida (interestingly).

Click here to read up more on purple loosestrife. Check this out if you want to gain a better appreciation for how it really started to impact Lake Erie marshes. But essentially, the take home lesson is that purple loosestrife became an unwelcomed “guest” that spreads aggressively by underground stems (rhizomes) and can produce as many as a million seeds per plant. Even supposedly sterile strains of L. virgatum (still commonly available in the horticulture trade) will outcross with this plant and produce viable seeds.

By the 1980s, purple loosestrife had arrived in Bay View and was the dominant plant in area marshes – outcompeting a tremendous diversity of sedges, rushes, and other native emergent plants (even cattails) to become a memorable “sea of purple.” It shaded shallow open water environments, and in so doing, could even snuff out native submerged plants. 

Quite simply, it was a game-changer. And it was looking like it might mean a permanent change to the landscape. I’ll leave it to a future entry to explain the rest of the story . . .


ASIDE: I had to smile when I first did a Google Images search on “Bay View Marsh” and found the image above to be the fourth result. We knew when we were getting into this project that we were inheriting a history of invasive species, but I have to admit, seeing that familiar magenta directly tied to what we are now managing put a bit of a lump in my throat!

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Step 1 of a Woodlot Restoration

Ash logs -- ravaged by emerald ash borer and now destined to be repurposed (after being kiln treated) by the Amish.

It may seem strange to start a conversation on marsh restoration and conservation with an image of a new, nearly clear-cut woodlot, but this is restoration in action. While <5% of the total property is currently wooded, we have been focusing a good deal of attention this last week or so on a ~6-acre area that was decimated by the emerald ash borer, an exotic beetle from Asia that is reeking havoc on ash trees throughout much of the U.S. and eastern Canada. Because Detroit, MI is thought to have been the epicenter of this invasive species' infestation (in 2002), northern Ohio was in the crosshairs early.

We estimate that this isolated woodlot had 200-250 trees that were 12" in diameter (DBH) or larger prior to the borer infestation. Of these, the vast majority (unfortunately) were ash. Literally every single ash tree in the area is dead, and most have been dead for five years or more based on the level of decay (note bark falling off trunk wood). Unfortunately, once the canopy is significantly thinned, an ecosystem like this is often further stressed by the proliferation of another invasive species -- bush honeysuckle. (More on that later.)

You may notice that the isolated trees left standing in the photo have pink flagging tape on them. These markers showed our contractor the ~70 trees that we were able to salvage. Most of the trees spared are hackberry and locust, but we also have a handful of nice oaks, maples, and even elms.

The understory (mostly made up of nasty honeysuckle) is being completely scraped in preparation for a replanting. We are working in conjunction with the Ohio DNR (Division of Forestry) and the USDA/NRCS through a program called EQIP such that by the spring of 2018, we will have 1,100 new trees growing. It will take some time and a good amount of effort, but eventually, we'll have a healthy canopy of desirable trees supporting a much more diverse ecosystem.


Monday, March 20, 2017

Here Goes Nothin' -- Journal Entry #1

Happy first day of Spring! For over two years now, I've been encouraged to share what I'll readily admit are sporadic contributions to a journal that I've been attempting to keep. With best intentions, my goal has been to create a running commentary on a project that is very near and dear -- namely, the restoration and preservation of more than 500 acres of coastal marsh on the Western Basin of Lake Erie (about halfway between my home near Toledo and Cleveland, Ohio).

This project is "near and dear" for several reasons, not the least of which being that -- with a local bank's steadfast support and financial backing -- I own this unbelievably unique natural resource. I use the term "own" loosely, however. To my wife (Jenny) and me, we are merely stewards who are fortunate enough to be positioned to help shape the future of this incredible expanse of land and water. Our formal ownership of all or portions of the property may be temporary (measured in months, years, or if we are lucky, maybe generations), but it's our hope and intent that the conservation of this highly threatened habitat will be permanent.

I also see this project as truly special because, as the entries that follow will hopefully demonstrate, it has proven to be an amazing culmination of my passions, my education, my hobbies, my professional pursuits, and my relationships. It has brought so many of the most important aspects of my life together already. I know that while I've already learned and experienced a lot (now 25-30 months in, depending on when you start the clock), I still have so much to give and to gain from this effort.

DISCLAIMER: As mentioned above, to date, my attempts to keep a daily journal have been inconsistent, at best. My goal in initiating this blog is to gradually fill in the blanks from the day I learned of this opportunity (August 2014) and then share the experience as often as is feasible. 

I envision posting on topics related to wetland biology (including the tremendous diversity of plants and wildlife that rely on wetland habitats), restoration ecology, water quality, and natural history. I'll get into waterfowl (ducks, geese, etc.) because duck hunting is a huge reason that the marsh still exists (more on that later). I also hope to spend significant time on fisheries-related topics, as fish and fishing are the first love that pulled me permanently into the water. I may even wade into topics like governmental and private funding -- and by association, politics . . . even though I stand firm that conservation and core issues like clean water should not be politicized (they are a matter of quality of life), the environment has most certainly become a politically charged issue. 

But I also hope to post simple snapshots of some of the amazing things I get to see literally every time I step into this place. I can truly say, "it's like another world," but until you see it for yourself, it can be hard to comprehend.

Thanks for the interest. I hope that I can stay disciplined and share with regularity. But more importantly, I hope that what I do share helps cultivate a broader passion and enthusiasm for the protection of these (and all) unique natural places.

All the best in the outdoors,




Eric Kraus
Founder & President
Standing Rush, LLC



First foray into the West Marsh by punt boat, April 2015.