Early Spring on Daughmer Savanna

Of all the natural landscapes and ecosystems Ohio had to offer around the time of European settlement, none have seen the same systematic destruction and removal quite like our prairies.  Over 99% of Ohio's indigenous tall grass prairie has succumbed to the activities of man or the inevitable march of natural succession.  You thought over 90% of our state's wetlands being lost was bad, the prairies have statistically had it worse.  Originally representing nearly 5% of Ohio's vegetation at the time of settlement, these open, grass-dominated ecosystems are relatively new to Ohio from a geologic viewpoint and came into existence around 4000-8000 years ago during a shift to a warmer, drier climate.  This change disrupted and discouraged reforestation's northward advancement post-Wisconsin glaciation and allowed the western tall grass prairie to migrate east through Illinois, Indiana and into Ohio.  Gradually the climate returned to a more cool and wet cycle and forestation picked back up as the prairies were invaded and recolonized by the trees.

Considering how fast open grassland can revert to shrubs-saplings and on into young forest, we have to thank in large part the Native American tribes that lived in western/northern Ohio for keeping our prairies around.  They played a huge role in maintaining these grassland habitats with their frequent use of fire.  They realized wild game was more attracted to the lush new-growth of burned areas and the open environment made hunting them easier and more successful.  This led to a consistent fire regime that kept the woody invaders at bay and a key aspect to their livelihoods healthy and intact.  Naturally-occurring fires from the likes of lightning strikes did occur historically but hardly at the same interval and efficiency as the native people's.  Without their influence, I highly doubt any substantial tracts of prairie would have persisted up until the time of settlement.  I can only imagine what it must have been like to gaze out at an almost never-ending expanse of grasses and the occasional tree with herds of grazers like bison and elk spread out across its vastness, let alone seeing a hot and intense prairie fire speed across the ground with flames licking 15-20 feet into the sky.  Sigh...too many invaluable things have been lost to the sands of time.

The first pioneers found these open tracts of tall warm season grasses, occasional oaks and hickories, and colorful summer wildflowers to be quite formidable and were initially ignored for their lack of trees.  The early thought was any land that didn't support forest was infertile and not worth the time or effort to farm.  If only that assumption had never been questioned.  Once that mindset was reversed and the prairie's deep, rich black soil was bitten into by the steel plow and drained with tile, it wasn't long before it had all but disappeared and turned into modern prairie monocultures of corn, soybeans, and wheat.

Botanists Rick Gardner and Dan Boone walking through Daughmer Prairie in early spring

However, that less than 1% of indigenous prairie hanging around is still out there and few, if any place(s) are better and more representative than Daughmer Prairie Savanna state nature preserve in Crawford county. Daughmer occurs in the former grandeur of the Sandusky Plains that once sprawled out over 200,000 acres in north-central Ohio. Only 70 or so acres of the Sandusky Plains remain and nearly half of its vestiges reside in Daughmer Prairie.

The photos that accompany this post were taken in late March of 2012 during a visit by your blogger and good friends in Ohio's Division of Natural Areas and Preserves' chief botanist Rick Gardner and the oft-mentioned and brilliant Daniel Boone.  Spring came fast and early that year and I recall this day, despite the chilled and gloomy look of the landscape, being in the 80s and a sweat-inducer, which is something I was certainly not used to so early in the season.  The darkened skies may be still and silent in the photos but lightning and thunder was discharged out of the swirling and churning blackness during our foray into the savanna and it made for a very memorable and electric experience.

Early spring on Daughmer Prairie Savanna as a line of thunderstorms move in.

Daughmer isn't what you would label as a true-blue tall grass prairie ecosystem but rather a prairie savanna due to its host of numerous bur oak trees.  Savannas existed at the tension zones between the prairie and recolonizing forest as well as in areas where fire did enough to drive off most woody/shrubby invaders but left some of the more fire-resistant trees behind to grow and mature.  The bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) is the classic and quintessential tree of Ohio's prairies and savannas with white oak (Q. alba), post oak (Q. stellata) and shagbark hickory (Carya ovata) the other common denizens.  In wet-saturated areas you might see more swamp white oak (Q. bicolor) while in the sandier, more xeric and acidic savanna (e.g. the Oak Openings) black oak (Q. velutina) dominate.

Dan standing with a mighty bur oak

Some of Daughmer Savanna's bur oaks approach and exceed three and four feet in diameter and have been aged to over 250 years old.  A few more than likely experienced a trial by fire as saplings during the last waning rounds of burns set by the Native Americans before their removal and/or demise at the hands of European settlement. Bur oak's thick, rigid bark can stand up to the fast but intensely hot grassland fires and often times boast scars as proof of their tenacity and brawn.  Without any significant competition from neighboring trees, oaks on the savannas grew stout and sprawled their limbs outward in a wide sweeping fashion, their leaves' photosynthesis factories humming along at peak.  Standing under these behemoths with the summer sun streaming through the emerald canopies and the robust scent of earth on the air is as refreshing a moment as exists in the natural world.

Seasonal wetlands and prairie potholes occur in parts of Daughmer and only add to the diversity of the site.

Despite looking and more-or-less being flat and unchanging as can be, Daughmer has a surprising variance in its hydrology.  On the more dry and well-drained soils you find a typical mixture of warm-season grasses such as big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), and switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) mixed with forbs and sedges such as the rare Eleocharis compressa and Carex bicknellii.  Moving into more moist-wet prairie finds an association of prairie cordgrass (Spartina pectinata) or bluejoint (Calamogrostis canadensis) and muhly-grass (Muhlenbergia mexicana) pocketed with seasonal wetland sedge meadows and small prairie pothole marshes.  Looking out across its landscape and you wouldn't think a place with "only grass" could be home to such a diversity of plant and animal life.

Rick standing in the shadows of the approaching storm

Prairie savanna is not only incredibly rare in the state of Ohio but is considered a globally rare community as well, which makes protecting these places all the more important.  Thankfully, the Ohio Division of Natural Areas and Preserves recently purchased this plot of land to give it a much more secure and bright future.  Daughmer's soils have never been plowed and remain a virgin of its steel to this day, but was used extensively for grazing cattle and sheep in the past.  This led to an extirpation of many summer wildflower species and opened the door for non-native invasives like teasel (Dipsacus fullonum) to establish but was a small price to pay for keeping this gem around and impressively intact otherwise.

Daughmer was recently dedicated as a state nature preserve and is open to the public year-round.  I encourage anyone with an interest in our natural history and a desire for a small glimpse back into the past to pay it a visit regardless of the time of year.  You can find directions to the preserve HERE.

A point worth mentioning here is that when the Division of Natural Areas and Preserves bought this land, the money used was solely from DNAP's donated income tax check-off funds.  In other words, you, the citizens and nature-caring/conscious/loving/appreciating/etc. people of Ohio all came together to make this possible.  Since its inception in 1983, over $16 million dollars have been donated and used to protect our state's natural treasures!

A Tribute to Some Tremendous Trees

Everyone remembers the first time they experienced the emotion of falling in love.  That moment of realization and cognizance that nothing else can compare to what you have grown to hold so dear.  If you're lucky those feelings never fade and only increase exponentially as time inevitably marches forward.  For your blogger it was trees that first tugged at his heart strings, botanically-speaking, of course.

Trees are the modern day kings of the vascular plant world and among the most massive and oldest individual (and clonal) organisms on the face of our planet.  There's just something about them that has kindled respect and astonishment from me at even a young age.  Whether reacquainting myself with an old friend who has seen many a spring thawing and winter's chill or gazing upon a stately stranger I've only just met, each moment spent under their sprawling ceiling of limbs, branches, and twigs is precious.  Their role and importance in any ecosystem cannot be understated and without them the world would be without us and millions of other beings. Trees truly are the heart and soul of our natural world.

In my travels both near and far, I've always kept a keen eye open for any spectacular individuals that just beg to be documented with the camera.  Rarely does any photograph ever truly forge or recreate the same awestruck feeling of disbelief and/or amazement as in person but I've done my best pick out those that at least try their very hardest.  The character and personality these mighty wooden sentinels are capable of displaying are not unlike our own as human beings when you take the time to notice.  Trees are the ultimate prize of time, patience, and opportunity.

One of the largest Sitka spruce trees left on the planet

Let's start off with a bang and an experience that left me feeling rather small and immensely humbled.  This monstrosity of a conifer on the Olympic peninsula of Washington state is one of the largest Sitka spruce (Picea sitchensis) trees left on the planet.  It's thought to be over one thousand years old and is still packing on more and more wood annually.  For more on this tree and other virgin temperate rain forest giants, you can check out the post about my visit to this lush land HERE.

Forest-grown white oak in Gross Woods

Old-growth bitternut hickory

I often times enjoy making an attempt to liken the feel of my current-day photographs to that of a time over a century earlier with a black and white scheme.  It gives the slight impression of what it might have felt like to stand next to the leviathans long lost to the saw and ax.  It's a sad reality that we lose these relics of the past much faster and more frequently than nature can replace them; especially in a time where land development and alteration is occurring at an ever-accelerating pace.

Blogger and the great white oak of Logan, Ohio

Few trees leave me more breathless than the Great White Oak in the old cemetery of Logan, Ohio.  If someone knows of a plumper, more impressive tree specimen in the state I'd love to see it because I can't imagine many could ever compare.  Estimates put this tree at near/over 500 years old.  That's 500 years of Mother Nature's fury combined with human development and stress that hasn't seemed to slow this gargantuan beast down. Giving this white oak a hug should be on every nature-appreciating Ohioan's bucket list!

Ancient white pine in the Adirondack Mountains

Ancient white pines in the Adirondacks of NY

A road trip to the southern Adirondacks of upstate New York a couple summers ago introduced me to some genuine Northeast white pines (Pinus strobus) that I will never forget.  White pine has long been a treasured and renowned species for its tall, straight growth habit that was perfect for ship building.  Subsequently, almost all the old-growth pine stands in New England met their sawmill fates well over a century ago with very few groves still remaining.  The tree pictured top left is believed to be one of the largest/oldest white pine's left in the Adirondacks at over 350 years old and 150'+ tall!

Giant white cedar on South Manitou Island in Lake Michigan

Nestled in a remote corner of South Manitou Island in Lake Michigan survives a small grove of virgin white cedars (Thuja occidentalis) that have reached unbelievable dimensions like the one shown here.  In fact, the largest white cedar on Earth once called this small island home before falling over in a violent storm not too long ago. Perhaps this one here is its successor?

Old-growth beech in a SE Indiana wet flatwoods

An ancient beech at Fort Hill in Highland Co., OH

Few trees have the same look and feel as the timeless beech (Fagus grandifolia) in my opinion.  Their smooth, ghostly grey trunks always seem to emit a warm glow in the shade of the forest.

An exceptional tuliptree from southern Ohio

If the white pine is the monarch of the conifers in Eastern North America, then the tuliptree or tulip poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera) is the monarch of its broadleaf brethren.  This fast-growing but potentially long-lived species is the tallest angiosperm we have in our eastern forests and once scraped the heavens at over 200 feet tall in the primeval forests.  Today, it doesn't reach nearly as high but 180'+ specimens do exist.  This particular tuliptree from southern Ohio exhibits the remarkable diameters these behemoths are also known for.

Impressive red oak in Glen Helen

Single-stem sycamore of nice proportions

Not exactly record-setters but this red oak and sycamore from the Yellow Springs area are hardly anything to ignore.  Single-stem sycamores of this size aren't an every day sight anymore despite trees like this (and much bigger) were nearly a dime a dozen along our waterways in pre-settlement times.

Dan Boone and Rick Gardner walking through Daughmer Oak Savanna in Crawford Co., Ohio

Few places instill the flavor and atmosphere of a pre-settlement western Ohio like the few oak savannas we have left in our state.  For centuries many a stalwart bur, white, and/or post oak watched over the open, seasonally wet grasslands that once pocketed the glaciated Wisconsin till plain before man's plow bit into its virgin sod...

Massive bur oak on a Columbus-area golf course

Not even a rare appearance on the golf course can distract your blogger from noticing the ancient monoliths of Ohio's past.  This hardy bur oak had its roots in the soil long before carts whizzed past without so much as a glance from their occupants.  Standing next to this particular giant gave me pause when I considered its view of tall grass prairie choked full of spectacular summer wildflowers was only a distant memory and forever lost to the past.  Just goes to show that nothing ever stays the same, even for a tree.

Huge white ash in a west-central Ohio woodlot

Giant bur oak in Goll Woods in NW Ohio

However, it's not all doom and gloom as even in a heavily farmed and developed state like Ohio, some woodlots still persist with scattered individuals linking the present to our storied past.  The white ash (Fraxinus americana) pictured above left is the largest single trunked specimen I've yet seen even if its crown is largely dead and/or missing.  Bur oaks like the one above are a mesmerizing sight upon entering one of the last vestiges of the Great Black Swamp in Goll Woods state nature preserve in extreme northwest Ohio.

Largest black walnut the blogger has ever laid eyes on

Even better is coming across an example of a tree species you could barely believe still exists in such dimensions. Black walnuts (Juglans nigra) were, and still are quick to be harvested for their very valuable and beautiful wood and thus hard to find in a large size.  While not prime lumber grade, this particular black walnut in Buck Creek state park was and still is by far the largest I've ever laid eyes on.  

Snow covered scene in Davey Woods state nature preserve

The winter woods and its bare, skeletal canopy is a silent testament to nature's beauty no matter the season.  The forest seems to speak and beckon you in with its creaks and groans emitting from the chilled air.  Each tree set against the snow becomes an individual with a unique story and form and a tranquility to it all that words can't quite touch.

Old-growth swamp chestnut oak/sweet gum/beech woods in southeastern Indiana

A lovely example of an old-growth wet flat woods in southeastern Indiana full of trees three to four feet in diameter and rocketing over 100' into the sky.  Swamp chestnut oak, sweet gum, and beech are the primary occupants with thick, stout trunks that are slow to taper as they ascend.

Dan Boone and a mighty swamp chestnut oak

Looking up the column of the same oak

The most impressive denizens of this particular wet flat woods were the swamp chestnut oaks (Quercus michauxii), a species that doesn't quite make it north/east enough to occur in Ohio.  My good friend and brilliant botanist, Dan Boone poses next to one of the largest specimens of them all with the accompanying photograph showing the incredible volume of wood reaching into the heavens.

Exceptional sweetgum from SE Indiana

But then again, the sweetgums (Liquidambar styraciflua) in the same woods and other nearby old-growth flat woods aren't anything to pass over either!

I could go on and on in sharing my favorite trees but I will end it with one of the most impressive trees (height-wise) I've yet seen.  This shellbark hickory (Carya laciniosa) from another wet flat woods in southeastern Indiana is estimated at over 150' tall and three feet in diameter.  I'd love to get back out with the necessary tools and information to get a more educated height but regardless it's one imposing tree!  It's hard to fathom how this tree has survived who knows how many winter storms, squall lines, and ice events to still astound this tree-loving botanist today!

A Forgotten Old-Growth Woodlot

The indigenous peoples of primeval west-central Ohio would hardly know what to think of their homeland by the look of the landscape today.  What was once a sprawling, open forest marked with numerous prairie, fen, and thicket openings is now a never-ending sea of agriculture with a sprinkle of leftover, disregarded wooded islands.  These ignored woodlots are all that remains of the formerly forested landscape and barely look anything like their predecessors of yesteryear.  Small, scattered and heavily overgrown with the incredibly invasive Asian bush honeysuckle monocultures and tangles of grapevines, it's a sad sight to see when one pictures what the land must have been like a few centuries prior.  Luckily there are still a few hidden gems out there in-between the corn and soybeans, waiting for someone to take notice and dare to break through the impenetrable honeysuckle exterior and on into its forgotten beauty.

Old-growth woodlot in a sea of corn fields in west-central Ohio

The particular old-growth lot I'd like to share in this post is located in the west-central county of Clark, not too far from where your blogger grew up.  I'd driven past the woods countless times before and always peered in with the unquenchable curiosity of what, if any, big trees could be found within.  A couple falls ago I decided to slip into its depths with my camera and father in tow to have a look-see at what we could find.

Clear cut through the edge of the forest

As we approached the eastern edge of the woodlot it became quite noticeable that someone had clear cut a swath of forest out some time ago.  Unfortunately, this parcel of land is owned by a real estate developer and the clear cut strip and old logging marks spray painted on many of the wood's finest trees pay reminder to its probable fate as a subdivision.  Whether this is near or far in the future I can't say but each time I drive by and see it unchanged I breath a small sigh of relief.  If this slowed economy has had any positive effects, keeping this forest from being logged and developed is one of them.

An enormous white ash (Fraxinus americana) with blogger's father for comparison

After battling through the thick honeysuckle and osage orange perimeter our eyes met the first of this woodlot's ancient leviathans.  I've seen many white ash trees in my day but none have come even close to this forest grown monster.  The single trunk shot straight up over our heads and reached a height approaching 100' tall.  Most of the crown had long ago succumb to decay and wind/storm damage but a few forking branches still allowed it to scrape the heavens at such an impressive height.

Better view of the enormous, single trunk

I wish I had my measuring tape and clinometer with me because this ash certainly deserved to have its dimensions precisely measured.  The diameter was easily over four feet wide, perhaps even approaching five feet from certain angles!  I can't begin to imagine how old this tree may be and hope it continues to hang on for years to come.  Soon enough seeing ash of this size will be as rare American elms of similar proportions due to the emerald ash borer.

Shagbark Hickory (Carya ovata) leaves

The diversity of canopy tree species was quite impressive with a mixture of red and bur oak; shagbark and bitternut hickory; black walnut; basswood; sugar maple; white and blue ash; and beech all mixing together.  I labeled it a mixed oak/hickory forest with shagbark hickory being the most dominant species, as about one of every four trees was one.  

Large shagbark hickory rocketing into the canopy

My father told me stories about him and his dad coming to this very woods in the fall to squirrel hunt decades and decades ago when they knew the neighboring farmer who owned the plot.  The massive amounts of seasonal hickory nuts drew in crowds of red and grey squirrels looking to fatten up for the approaching winter months.  They rarely walked out unsuccessful in their hunt.  He mentioned the forest then was pure and free of any invading honeysuckle and the under story was considerably more open, but that was 40+ years ago and times had unfortunately changed.

A 'straight as an arrow' bur oak topping out at nearly 100' tall

The other most common canopy species outside the shagbark hickories was another heavy nut producer and squirrel favorite: bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa).  Their furrowed and dark barked trunks stood out against the lighter shades of grey from the beech, sugar maple, and ash.  Most of the specimens like the one pictured above had faint markings from a previous timber cruising crew that had undoubtedly found them as impressive as us, albeit for the 'wrong' reasons.

Old-growth bur oak climbing high into the canopy

Straight trunks with a slow taper and branches only beginning to appear at 40-50 feet up made for some very beautiful trees.  Each time I see a time-tested tree that has withstood decades, even centuries of harsh weather and climate conditions makes me thank mother nature for her gift and say a silent prayer to the wind that long may they avoid man's chainsaw and greedy wallets.  Trees like this aren't grown overnight and take a long, long time to replace.

Cluster of nice sized bur oaks

The deep, rich mesic soil with centuries of decomposed leaf litter made for excellent growing conditions and allowed these trees to attain such girth and lofty heights.  I plan to revisit this winter for a better, less restricted look at the forest now that all the leaves are off the trees.  I'll be sure to bring my measuring tools this time around as I'm curious just how tall some of these oaks and hickories top out at.  Even a spring visit should be in store to see if any display of wildflower ephemerals coincides with the new growing season.

A beauty of a black walnut (Juglans nigra) and something you rarely see today

Now this is something you just don't see in today's forests anymore.  This black walnut was one of a dozen or so scattered throughout the lot with straight, slightly tapering trunks that would have any logger drooling in envy.  Black walnut specimens like this all met their sawmill fates decades ago for their very valuable wood.  The one pictured here topped out at 80-90' tall with its first blemish being a fork nearly 50' up.

Massive red oak (Quercus rubra) with an equally big bur oak to the back right

The bur oaks weren't the only impressive members of the Quercus genus to grace the ever-yellowing canopy.  Red oak (Q. rubra) trees exceeding three feet in diameter weren't too uncommon but none could challenge this particular behemoth.  I love the gradual widening of the root flare in these forest-grown oaks, it really adds some character to their mighty stature.  The large tree to the back right is another example of the forest's impressive bur oaks.

The massive red oak hardly tapering as it shoots into the canopy

This is one of those trees whose height I'd really like to measure; I have a hunch it tops 100'.  The slow taper of its central column has a huge volume of wood packed into the sky and would provide quite a bit of lumber in the event of its human-caused felling.  I'm jealous of the birds and squirrels who can enjoy the views from the canopy of such a mighty being.  

Large musclewood (Carpinus caroliniana) in the under story

It wasn't just the canopy tree's dimensions that consistently impressed me; some of the under story species did as well.  Your blogger's father stands next to one of the grand examples of musclewood (Carpinus caroliniana) to be found within the woods.  Other frequent under story species included Ohio buckeye, ironwood, pawpaw, hawthorn spp., blackhaw, redbud, and spicebush.  Now, I know you're wondering about that massive tree in the background and no worries, I've saved the best for last.

An truly monstrous bur oak and the largest tree found in the forest.

Near the margins of the field lies the champion of the forest; the largest and most impressive of all its denizens.  What makes this bur oak so impressive is the clear signs of being an open-growth tree instead of forest-grown like the rest of the trees featured.  The low-hanging branches and rounded crown all point to this specimen spending a majority of its time growing in the open and stretching out its branches to catch all the sunlight it could.  

Zoomed in shot of my father and the behemoth bur oak

I have no idea how old this bur oak truly is but I wouldn't hesitate to guess at least 200-250 years old, if not more.  I suspect it was already of decent size when the land was cleared a couple centuries ago; which allowed it to relish in the endless sunshine for decades to come.  Looking at Ohio's champion bur oak measurements I already know this one doesn't compare but would still someday like to take precise measurements of its circumference, height, and spread to see how well it does stack up to our state's champs.

Walking through the corn after an excellent time in the old woods

As we walked back to the road through the corn field I glanced back at the wood lot a number of times and thought this shot really captured the stature of the monarch bur oak.  You can see its still green-leaved canopy rising up above the yellow and oranges of the shorter, but still impressive surrounding trees.  I'm sure there are more exciting big trees and discoveries to be made in this old-growth wood lot and I hope to return in the near future to see what else I can uncover.  People think they have to go far and wide to find appreciable beauty in the flat and boring west-central portion of the state but sometimes all you have to do is find a unsuspecting woodlot and step on inside its living cathedral of trees...