Let It Snow!

When they started forecasting the possibility of snow a few days ago, as usual I got really excited.  Of course the prediction was that our area would see only a slight dusting to maybe a half an inch at best.  Some forecast models even showed our area getting zilch.  As is often the case, we got more than predicted.  Not much more, but at least it wasn't just a dusting.  Usually with Gulf moisture storms, our snows tend to be wet and fluffy, but this time due to an extremely cold air mass already in place, the snow was very fine, almost powder-like.  If the moisture had been increased and the temperatures slightly warmer, our inch would have likely been 3 or 4, and that's still with the bulk of the moisture to our south and east. 

As the snow started coming down around lunchtime on January 28th, I kept thinking, "You know this could be a nice snow."  I had my camera fired up and ready to go.  All I needed was the right opportunities.  I was not disappointed.  By 3:00 in the afternoon, the snow had accumulated enough that I could get some great shots.  To make it better, the marina bay at Lake Lure had re-frozen and a thin layer of snow had descended upon it.  Here's a couple of shots I grabbed.

Of course, I knew that such a small amount of snow wouldn't stick around too long so I had to get out early to get more shots.  The morning was clear and cold with just enough clouds in the sky to offer some contrast.  Here's the same shots as above, only with sun and no snow falling.

With the sky as clear as it was and plenty of snow on the cliff faces around the lake.  I thought I would also grab a few shots there too.  When the snow was coming down, it was impossible to see the mountains because the ceiling dropped so low.

Since the Town has been working on Buffalo Creek Park, I thought that I probably ought to get some winter time shots over there too.  I was tempted to hike the whole 3.5 miles, but the temperature was in the teens and I wasn't exactly bundled up for those kind of temperatures, nor did I have other appropriate trail gear for snow trekking.  I still was able to come away with some good shots.  I was also reminded while I was there that one of the reasons I like snow is because I get to see wildlife activity.  When I first got to where I would get my first shots, I noticed some tracks I had never seen before and it took me a while to figure out exactly what they were.  I also found fresh scat which looked odd.  After studying the tracks for a while, I concluded that maybe it was river otter tracks which was confirmed after returning to my office and doing a little research.  I wish now that I had taken a picture of the tracks and the slide marks.  It was obviously a pair as there were two sets.  They must have been having a playful romp in the snow as I have read is common with otters.  I also saw some tracks from the elusive bobcat.

Bobcat tracks

Here are some of the shots I was able to get from the trail and along Buffalo Creek.

I love being in the woods in the snow.  I love the quietness and the feel of isolation from the world outside of the forest.  Snow is what I call an equalizer because it hides the impacts we as humans create as we develop roads, paths, and parking lots.  For just a little while snow hides the ugliness of man's creation and exposes the beauty and simplicity of God's creation.

My Visit to the Narrows

In western North Carolina, whether you are a local or a visitor, there are certain places that should go on every outdoor adventurer's life list.  Some examples might be Dry Falls near Highlands, Whiteside Mountain (also near Highlands), and Linville Gorge.  These places are typically characterized by unique location and some type of ultimate reward, usually involving superb scenery or something to that effect.  The Green River Narrows is no exception.

The Narrows lie in the heart of Green River Gorge and begin just upriver of the Henderson/Polk County line on the Henderson County side just below the Green's confluence with the Big Hungry River.  The Narrows has a reputation as one of the most extreme kayaking destinations in the eastern United States and has 11 major class IV+ to V+ rapids.  The Narrows section is approximately 3 river miles long, dropping an average of 178 feet per mile.  The middle section (where all the fun is) drops about 342 feet over a half mile.

The Narrows is tough whitewater kayaking and has been the site of numerous injuries and fatalities.  It's extreme nature is what makes it so attractive to world class kayakers who compete every year in the Green Race, which is run on the first Saturday of November every year.

I'm not a kayaker, so for me the Narrows offers something besides extreme whitewater.  The Narrows is a a place that rewards you for the effort you take getting to it.  The first time I went to the Narrows I was truly amazed, but my sense of reward was diminished by the fact that I climbed out of the Gorge via an incredibly difficult route that left me tired and frustrated at the end.  That's not to say I didn't enjoy the adventure, but sometimes it's better to keep things simple.

I called up my good buddy Chris to see if he wanted to go on an adventure.  He was of course happy to go.  We had started an adventure to the Narrows a couple of years ago that more or less went awry because we never got where we were going (not for lack of trying) and we got wet (had to cross the river to get to the vehicles).  The problem with that trip was we tried to do something easy the hard way.  Hey, I learn from my mistakes.  This trip would be different.

Winter time hiking offers its own set of challenges so you always have to be prepared, particularly for ice, frozen ground, and slick areas where thaw has occurred.  Chris and I were certainly up for the challenge.  We arrived at the Pulliam Creek Trailhead off of Big Hungry Road (this was not the way we went on the failed attempt).  We hiked in about two miles until we came to the trail (more like a goat path) that leads down into the Gorge.  This is the main route people take when they come to see the race in November.  There are handlines strung from tree to tree to assist with getting down the very steep hill to the river.  At the bottom of the hill, you find yourself at the confluence of Pulliam Creek and the Green River.  A quick scramble and a leap across Pulliam Creek and you are met by the awesomeness that is The Narrows.


Falls on Pulliam Creek at confluence with the
Green River

Green River Gorge is not the deepest gorge in western North Carolina, but it is fairly narrow which is what makes the Green river so spectacular here.  Imagine trying to shove a lot of water through a tight space.  That's what it's like at The Narrows.

Once you cross Pulliam Creek at the bottom of the hill, the river is on the left and you then begin making your way up river, enjoying each huge rapid as you go.

Groove Tube is the first rapid you see when you reach the river. 
It's also the last rapid for kayakers who choose to take out
before taking on the toughest rapid of The Narrows called Sunshine

Rapid Transit reminds me of one of those log rides you might
 get on at an amusement park.

This rapid is known as Power Slide.

Here's Chris standing at the top of Power Slide.  The rapid series known
 as the Gorilla is in the background.  This picture serves as a scale for
the size and power of these rapids.

Known as Nies' Pieces, this rapid is the last in a series of five
 called the Gorilla.

Scream Machine is the fourth in the Gorilla series.

The signature rapid of The Narrows, this rapid is the third and most iconic of the Gorilla series.  The Flume is the 16 foot waterfall which drops into the Speed Trap.  The distance across the Speed Trap is approximately 6 to 8 feet across.

 

The Notch is quite possibly the coolest rapid of Gorilla.  The span from
rock to rock is 4 to 6 feet.  The entire river is flowing through this extremely
tight section.  This spot is the namesake of The Narrows.

Pencil Sharpener is the first rapid in the Gorilla Series.  Just upstream is
the take out for those who don't want to challenge Gorilla. 
Once you're committed, you pretty much have to run it.

As I said, The Narrows is one of the coolest places you can ever visit.  I've only been in the winter so I'm sure the place is even more spectacular with leaves on the trees, especially in the Fall.  Chris and I had a great time on this adventure, but let me provide a few words of caution.  The Narrows is a seriously hairy place.  It is not easy to get in and out of and is really not a place for the inexperienced hiker or outdoorsman.  You need to have some basic survival skills knowledge in case something goes wrong.  Broken legs from falls are not uncommon here.  Not to mention, one slip on some slick rock and you're in the river in very swift, dangerous water.  Getting out is a tough climb, so you need to be in good enough physical shape to get in and get out.  Watch for black ice and slick rock, especially near the water's edge.  One wrong step and you'll be floating down the river.  After about 2 o'clock, the sun goes behind the south wall of the Gorge so the temperature can fall rapidly.  Again, be prepared for anything.  Most importantly, don't hike The Narrows by yourself.  You never know what can happen, plus it's always fun to have a good friend along to pontificate about life with.

Get out there and have fun!

Buffalo Creek Park Trail Moving Along

   The work on the Buffalo Creek Park Trail is progressing nicely.  At present, Trail Dynamics has completed the ground work of our Type II trail, with 3.5 miles of distance.  The Type II trail is a loop trail that has an average grade of about 3%, which is a deceiving number because there are some fairly steep climbs in a couple of places.  The trail terrain is very variable with a lot of up and down.  Topography has been a huge factor in layout and construction of the Type II trail  due to the steep ravines and gullies that occur everywhere on the property.  Currently Trail Dynamics is working on completing two stream crossings which will be elevated boardwalk.  Once these two crossings are complete, the trail will be open for users.  It should be noted that currently, parking is very limited with no parking on the Rumbling Bald Resort side and only space for about four vehicles on the Buffalo Creek Road side.  The Town will hopefully be addressing this issue very shortly. 

The Yellow loop trail with the red line through the middle of it is the completed trail.  The trail west and the Green loop will come as we continue to develop the property.  A trail profile is provided so it's possible to see the terrain changes as you ride or hike.  We believe this will be a unique experience for riders and hikers alike that are looking for something a little more challenging and remote than some of the other hiking opportunities found in Hickory Nut Gorge.

   If you want, feel free to take the picture tour by checking out the links to my Picasa album.  Every aspect of construction from beginning to end has been photo documented.  The album will give viewers an idea of just how difficult and challenging the terrain is for constructing trail.

Buffalo Creek Park Trail Construction (Oct 8, 2013 to Nov 12, 2013

Buffalo Creek Park Trail Construction (Nov 14, 2013 to Dec 19, 2013

Winter Time in Hickory Nut Gorge

Winter time in the Gorge is one of those unique times where you often have to be at the right place at the right time for the special shot you are looking for.  For instance, I usually don't do a lot of waterfall shots in winter time because the light is often not ideal and there's not a lot of green to give contrast to the grays and browns that tend to dominate the woods.  On occasion, it is possible to get some interesting shots.  I was driving down the Gorge this week and thought I might try a shot or two of the Rocky Broad in a particularly turbulent section, just to see what it might yield.  The result was sort of cool.

 

The lighting sort of created an almost cartoony effect, which I found to be quite interesting.
Sometimes the silky effect (blur) on water can be over-used to a degree, but it is a technique I have been working hard to try and master and in these shots, at least from my amateurist point-of-view, it worked for what I was trying to do.  Sometimes shots create themselves.

I have been fortunate at other times to be able to get some shots that probably few have ever had the opportunity to even attempt, again because I was simply at the right place at the right time.

A snowy morning at Eagle Rock

Snow-covered Outcroppings at Chimney Rock State Park.

Rainbow Falls in the winter time.

The rare shot of Chimney Rock Mountain covered in snow and ice.

 Even though Hickory Nut Gorge is most famous for its river, its falls, its rocks and its wildflowers, there's something about the winter that creates a unique perspective of the Gorge.  If I don't get to post anything else before Christmas, I hope everybody has a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.  If these pictures don't get you in the holiday spirit, perhaps this little cartoon will.

The Problem With Exotic Plant Species

         As a naturalist, I often get questions about what people should plant in their yards.  They might ask me, “Well do you think hostas would work well here?” or they might say, “Oh I just love wisteria, it is so beautiful.  Will it grow in my yard?”  When I say that I wouldn’t plant either one, they look at me like I have bugs crawling out of my ears.  It’s not that I don’t think these plants aren’t nice, but I personally prefer native plants.  Oh and by the way, wisteria is a non-native invasive unless you just happen to find the native variety.  So many of our native species are so under-appreciated because they often aren't as showy as most ornamentals (hence the name), butmore often than not they are a better alternative than something exotic (non-native to this region) which can often be more of a problem than anything else.

A kudzu monoculture.  This is why they call it "the vine that ate the South".

            Let’s think about it for a minute and study a plant we all know:  kudzu.  I can’t tell you how many times I have been asked the question, “What is that plant that grows everywhere and climbs up in the trees?”  Some will even comment on how beautiful it is.  You can usually tell who isn’t from around here if they don’t know what kudzu is.  Kudzu was originally brought to this country from Asia in the late 1800’s and displayed as an ornamental at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876.  It was later used as a forage crop and an erosion control plant along highway and railroad rights-of-way in the wake of the dust bowl.  No one would have ever imagined that such a useful plant would launch a takeover south of the Mason Dixon line that would rival Sherman’s March during the Civil War (or War of Northern Aggression if you are a true southern patriot).  Because kudzu comes from a latitude and climate similar to ours, it is well suited to grow here.  In its natural environment, it is not nearly so invasive and has natural predators and other limiting factors which prevent it from covering the world.   That is not the case here.  In our little part of the world, kudzu has no natural predators, at least none that can effectively keep it in check without destroying native species in the process.  This is not to say that things don’t feed on it because they do, but there is not enough consumption to control its growth.  Kudzu, to its credit, is high in protein.  In fact, among legumes it has among the highest protein potential.  Its root is high in starch and the flowers are a great source of sugar, hence kudzu jelly.  In Japan, kudzu is eaten in many different forms and is also used to make paper and other things.  So one might argue, “Well if it has all these good qualities, why is it so bad?”  The answer is that it inhibits biodiversity.  When kudzu becomes established to the point that it begins to climb trees, it begins to eliminate species in the area in which it grows.  Plants that were in the understory, from small trees to wildflower species, are suddenly cut off from their light source.  All the many vines as they blanket the ground and eventually climb into the treetops, take root and suck up the nutrient supply from the ground, depriving the native species of their underground food supply.  If a plant can’t photosynthesize because of no light, and if it can’t get nutrients from the ground, the plant dies.  This means whatever benefits from that plant is also affected, whether it’s another plant, or an animal.  This causes a dramatic change to that ecological community, limiting biodiversity and creating a monoculture of a non-native species.  This is the impact of invasive exotics.

 

The flower of kudzu (Pueraria montana)

            Now I’m certainly not saying that all exotics are bad because they are certainly not all invasive.  Look at the number of foods that we grow and eat.  Many of these are not native to our area.  What I am saying is that caution should be taken anytime an exotic species is planted, particularly ornamental species.  As climate change is occurring, many plants that have been held in check by our mild climate, could some day become a problem.  Many plants, under optimal conditions show a remarkable ability to adapt to subtle changes in their environment, particularly when predation is low or non-existent.  Kudzu is a perfect example.  Kudzu used to be limited to the southern states but it is slowly adapting and is now found as far north as southern New York, so it is no respecter of geographical boundaries.

            In an area as rich in biodiversity as Hickory Nut Gorge, the control of exotic invasives is very important.  Of course the threat that is receiving the most attention right now is the Hemlock Woolly Adelgid, which is not a plant (it’s a bug), but it severely impacts an important plant species, the hemlock.  But, the Hemlock Woolly Adelgid is a newcomer, and while its impact is tragic, there are other exotic, invasive species out there that are changing our ecosystem and are not getting the attention that they should be.  

Hemlock Woolly Adelgid (Adelges tsugae)

           Take for instance, oriental bittersweet: this stuff has practically taken over the Asheville area and is quickly spreading out from there.  Every year there are more infestations of this plant in the Gorge.  Up north, this plant is like kudzu.  Down south, it could potentially be worse than kudzu, for several reasons:  (1) It’s a climber, like kudzu; (2) it has a nasty talent for lying dormant until a tree blows over or some type of disturbance creates a light gap; (3) unlike kudzu, over 90% of its seeds are viable and will likely germinate under favorable conditions; (4) it is a whole lot harder to kill; (5) unlike kudzu, people like bittersweet because it has pretty berries in the winter time; and on, and on, and on. 

Oriental Bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus)

 Japanese knotweed is becoming more and more prevalent along stream banks.  Tree-of-heaven (more like “hell”) and princesstree are growing up in cutovers and powerline rights-of-way.  These are pests that have been here a long time but have escaped our attention because the results are much slower than those of something like hemlock woolly adelgid, however, the results and impact are the same and failure to manage these pests (because eradication is often not an option), will result in further impact to our native species and the stability of their ecological communities.

Japanese Knotweed (Fallopia japonica)

Tree-of-heaven (Ailanthus altissima)

Princesstree (Paulownia tomentosa)

Some advantages to going native are:  (1) less maintenance; (2) less watering; (3) less predation from deer, woodchucks, and muskrats; (4) you can choose a plant pallet for four seasons; (5) you can still attract hummingbirds and butterflies.  I could probably think of some more but I’m rather limited in space in this column.

The point to all my ramblings is that there is more to taking care of our environment than clean water and clean air.  The things we plant also have a great impact on our natural environment and we have to be careful about what we introduce.  We don’t know what the impact may be in the future.

To see some other exotic invasives that are impacting our natural communities, click on the link:
Exotic Invasive Species of Hickory Nut Gorge

The Southern Impression

Not everything I write has pictures.  You have to use your imagination a little.  This post is meant to be somewhat humorous, and if you know me, you will be able to appreciate it even more.  if you don't know me personally, well then perhaps you will have a greater impression of who southern folks are and what we're about.  This is a re-write of an article I wrote for The Mountain Breeze a few years ago.

Most folks who know me, and I mean really know me, know that I am pretty proud of the fact that I am a native Rutherford Countian, North Carolinian, and bona-fide Southerner.  I believe in saying what you mean and meaning what you say, and I generally say it with an appreciable accent (some things you just can’t get rid of, not that I’ve ever really tried of course).  Most of the time in my little column in The Mountain Breeze I try to write about nature or environmental related topics, but I felt this time a change of pace might be nice.  Sometimes it’s nice to sit back and reflect on what makes a person tick, and a lot of times, looking at where we come from can provide a huge insight into who we are as people and why we feel the way we do about things.  Even the way we talk makes impressions on people (often inaccurately).  Let me give you an example of what I’m talking about.

            When my wife and I got married, we honeymooned in Maui.  What an experience!  We embraced the Hawaiian culture while we were there and had a wonderful time, but a funny thing happened to us before we came home.  We were sitting in the airport in Maui, waiting to catch a flight over to Honolulu where we would get on another plane to come back to the continental U.S.  There were a lot of students in the airport.  Apparently schools in Hawaii do field trips to different islands (how fun would that be) and this particular group of middle school students had come over to Maui for the day to learn about the island.  Anyway, Chasitty and I were just sitting there talking while we waited to board the plane and I noticed this young lady kept watching us very closely and appeared to be eavesdropping.  Well, I just kind of casually smiled at her, sort of acknowledging that I knew she was listening to us (I didn’t care, as we weren’t discussing top secret information or anything).  At that point, she interrupted our conversation and said, “Excuse me, but I was wondering where you are from?”  I told her we were from North Carolina.  She replied, “You mean on the mainland?”  I said yes and explained that we were in Hawaii for our honeymoon.  She said, “I have never heard anyone talk the way you do.”  Of course I laughed.  She then commented that we must be rich since we came from so far away, to which I commented that if she was referring to financial wealth then I hated to burst her bubble.  She said that most of the mainlanders that visit are typically pretty wealthy, which I am sure is probably the case, however it was very interesting to see how a perception could be made based on my accent and use (or misuse depending on how you look at it) of the English language.

            My accent is something that I cannot escape.  When I worked at Chimney Rock Park, the World Botanic Congress had its annual meeting at the Grove Park Inn.  One of their scheduled field trips was to the Park.  This was a pretty prestigious thing as botanists and researchers from all over the world were attending this conference.  Anyway, my job was to give a slide presentation and guided hike for the attendees.  World-renowned botanist and curator of the Missouri Botanical Garden, Dr. Peter Raven was on the field trip  and was standing in the back of the room as I proceeded to give my presentation.  Dr. Raven is also a close friend of the Morse Family, the former owners of Chimney Rock Park.  As my southern drawl was very apparent to folks, I warned them as I began my presentation that they would have to excuse my pronunciation of the Latin names of the plants that we would be seeing because I speak Southern Latin.  Lu Morse, who was standing in the back of the room with Dr. Raven, was drinking a bottle of water and nearly drowned as he tried to keep water from spurting out of his mouth.  Dr. Raven thought it was hilarious as did the rest of our international guests.  It certainly helped ease the tension of speaking to world-renowned botanists.

            On a ski trip to Quebec, Canada I got an opportunity to impress a French-speaking Quebecois shopkeeper.  I was doing my best to blend into the French-Canadian culture so as not to come off with the “ugly American” attitude that we are so often guilty of.  Our little group was trying to speak French where we could and to try to be mannerly and so forth.  Well, my French is virtually non-existent and I was learning phrases on the fly.  We were in this shop and I saw some Inuit moccasins that I really liked and decided to buy.  I was trying to ask the store owner how much the moccasins were in French.  He gave me the price in English and smiled at me.  So I said, “Merci,” and he asked me (in English) where we were from.  Tired of abusing the French language, the southern came forth as I explained we were from North Carolina down in the southern U.S.  He laughed, and said that he knew I didn’t sound like anyone else that he had met from the U.S.  He was very interested in North Carolina, particularly the geography so I had a good time explaining to him what western North Carolina was like and so forth.  He and I both came away with a wonderful experience of cultural enlightenment.

            Another time at Chimney Rock, I was working in the “Booth” at the tunnel entrance.  This was before my days as Park Naturalist.  My best friend Justin, who also worked at the Park, was running the elevator and had just brought a couple of young ladies from Michigan down.  They were apparently going on and on about the way Justin talked.  Without missing a beat, Justin tells them, “You think I talk funny, you ought to hear that short, stubby fellow at the end of the tunnel!”  He then hollered down the tunnel, “TALK FOR ‘EM CLINT!”  So, what did I do?  I did what any other southern gentleman would do.  I gave the best southern impression that I could by giving them what they wanted:  an earful of southernism.

            One of the great things about living in the South is all of the great “sayin’s” and colloquialisms that are part of the everyday lexicon.  The southern dialect is almost poetic in nature due to the phrasing and the use of simile and metaphor in our speech.  We can always come up with something to compare something else to.  Unfortunately, much of this is being lost as new generations come along, losing touch with southern heritage, or were never in touch to begin with.  I can remember all my life, spending time with the older generations and hearing stories and “sayin’s” that have become part of my own vocabulary.  My Pa-Paw Calhoun was probably one of the most colorful individuals that I have ever known and the number of “sayin’s” that have come from his mouth I can’t begin to count.  We sat down one summer, my dad and brothers and I, and we wrote down some of the things that Pa-Paw has said over the years, and we just absolutely cracked up.  It was funny, partly because you would have to be from the South to appreciate them, but you would have also had to lived on a farm to understand them as well.  I find myself using a lot of those same “sayin’s” and it’s a part of my southern heritage that I hope to never lose and to pass down to my children and grandchildren, especially since cultural dilution is becoming more prevalent in our society today. 

            Of course I couldn’t conclude this article without sharing some of my personal favorite “sayin’s” and providing some explanation as to what they mean for those of you who may not understand.  Here we go (it’s like a Top Ten List of Southern Sayin’s):

1)      “Show ‘em where Tony hit the wedge!”  In other words, prove to everybody that you can do it.

2)      “Get on it like ugly got on ape!” or “Dive on it like a dog on a bone!”  Same meaning for both.  Whatever you do, do it with enthusiasm.

3)      “He’s wanderin’ around like a blind dog in a meathouse!” or “He don’t know if he’s comin’ or goin’!”  Best description would be that someone is confused about something.

4)      “He tore out like Fisick’s house cat!”  In other words he left in a hurry.  “He hit Bush River!”  is another one with a similar meaning.

5)      “Tight as Dick’s hat band!”  This could refer to something that won’t come loose like a bolt or a screw.  Or could refer to a person who doesn’t like to spend money.

6)      “Hot and dry; spittin’ up dust!” or “Dry as a powder house!”  Usually these expressions refer to the weather or if you’ve been working hard and you’re feeling a little dehydrated.

7)      “The wind blowed it out!”  Pa-Paw would say this if he was cutting wood and for one reason or other his chainsaw would quit running.

8)      “I could eat the hind-end out of a rag doll!”  This one’s a tad off-colored but funny to me.  This is a simple reference to being absolutely “starved-to-death.”

9)      “It came a real side-swarper”  In other words, it came a bad storm.  “Side-swarper” can be substituted for “gully-washer” or “toad-strangler.”

10)  “That’s good for what ails ye!”  Refers to anything that tastes good.  Usually referring to a dessert such as ice cream.

I hope you have found my meanderings and ponderings as entertaining to read as I did writing them.  Until next time!

Deerhair Bulrush

Deerhair bulrush (Trichophorum cespitosum) is a species native to Hickory Nut Gorge that you might say doesn't quite belong here.  A member of the Sedge Family (Cyperaceae), it is named for the hair like tufts at the tips of each grass-like stem.  The tufts are actually the flowers of the plant.  Deerhair bulrush is what we call a disjunct species; a remnant of an age gone by...an Ice Age in fact.

In its typical range, deerhair bulrush occurs in boreal and polar regions, mainly in bogs in the Canadian and Old World tundra.  It occurs in rocky areas above timberline in the boreal zone of the U.S. and Canada, but it is also found right here in good ol' North Carolina.  Above 5,000 feet, North Carolina forests are boreal, dominated by red spruce and fir.  During the last Ice Age, all of the Southern Appalachians forests were most likely boreal forests and composed of species that are more typical of that ecological community.  As the global temperature warmed after the Ice Age, the forests of the Southern Appalachians began to change as new species came to dominate and certain ecological communities were pushed into stronghold areas where they could continue to persist.  This is why there are still hold out pockets of boreal forest still found in North Carolina and Tennessee.  This boreal community is where you would typically find deerhair bulrush.  It tends to be found in places like Grandfather Mountain, the Black Mountains, Devils Courthouse; places that still mimic the conditions of the former age.  So we might ask ourselves, why do we have it in Hickory Nut Gorge?

Deerhair bulrush, while preferring to be associated with relic species like itself, in some places it got left behind, so to speak.  Those areas tend to be steep, wet, north-facing slopes at lower elevations, typically around 1,100 feet above sea level.  In those areas, the boreal forest is gone.  Trees such as spruce and fir, because of their size could not be supported on steep rock faces which are meant for smaller species, even though the microclimate would likely support them.  These steep rocky areas, because of their north-facing aspect, close proximity to water (either from seepage or spray from waterfalls) provide ideal conditions for survival.  One of the things these areas have in common with colder climates is the presence of ice in the winter time.  On north-facing slopes of Hickory Nut Gorge, once ice forms and builds up, it's there until spring.  This long-term presence of ice lowers the temperature in the immediate area creating a distinct microclimate that allows deerhair bulrush to thrive.  Deerhair bulrush was first discovered in Hickory Nut Gorge up on Sugarloaf Mountain.  It was later found in Chimney Rock State Park in several seepage and spray areas such as Nature's Showerbath and Groundhog Slide on the now closed Cliff Trail, and at the base of Hickory Nut Falls in the spray zone.  In fact, up until the mid-90's, Chimney Rock State Park was the lowest known location in terms of elevation for deerhair bulrush, until it was discovered at a slightly lower elevation in Table Rock State Park in South Carolina, growing in a spray area near a waterfall.

Deerhair bulrush, because it is a relic of a former time, makes for an interesting study case.  It provides some insight into what conditions may have been like in North Carolina during the last Ice Age.  Its presence also helps us to understand the effects of global climate change, a naturally occurring phenomenon (I'll leave the political debate to those who debate such things) and what the impact may be for not only this, but other species as well.