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Adventure
Traveler Garry Sowerby in his own words:
Saturday,
September 25, 2004
Vermilion
Bay, Ontario and Tolstoi, Manitoba
Environmental Initiative #49
Experiment Lakes Area, Vermilion
Bay, Ontario
Busy Saturday morning. First get jostled about on a rough narrow
road for 15 km, dig out the road permit after the first 5 km in
case we get stopped and are asked to explain our presence here,
arrive at the designated meeting place, an area marked by an inconspicuous
sign that almost unwillingly announces 'Lake 375'.
Then park the truck next to the only other vehicle at the trailhead
down to the Lake, which happens to be a Chevrolet hybrid pickup truck
with the Fisheries and Oceans decal on the sides, shake hands with
our host Dr. Patrick Buat, hop into his boat, go out to meet Dr.
Patricia Ramlal, who is already out at the site and then, oh yes,
feed 10,000 fish.
A typical Satuday morning.
The fish are trout and they are very happy to see us and the food
that Patricia hands us to fling into the calm, glistening waters.
The fish are part of a research project to study the effects of
commercial fish farms on the surrounding waters and shoreline.
The research project is but one of hundreds that have been conducted
at the Experimental Lakes Area (ELA) halfway between Dryden and
Kenora.
The ELA has gained an international reputation as one of Canada's
most innovative and successful commitments to freshwater research.
Since 1969, this facility, the Experimental Lakes Area, or ELA,
has served as a natural laboratory. Scientists come here from around
the world to study the 58 small lakes and streams, and their watersheds,
and the long-term effects of various pollutants or stressors on
these living ecosystems.
Located in a sparsely inhabited region, the ELA is relatively
unaffected by external human influences and industrial activities.
The area has withstood most of the development pressures from outside
and managed to retain its pristine nature. Few places in southern
Canada are less affected by human disturbances. It is the ideal
site for an experimental lakes area.
The ELA came about because of incidents occuring in Lake Erie,
during the 1960s. Because of human development (domestic sewage
systems, agricultural fertilization) in the basins of the lower
Great Lakes, excessive quantities of plant nutrients were being
flushed into these lakes. Lake Erie, being relatively shallow,
was experiencing serious growths of blue green algae. Subsequent
bacterial decomposition of these algae led to oxygen depletion
which severely stressed the populations of many commercial and
sport fish species. The Lake Erie ecosystem had changed for the
worse and the public demanded action.
The Fisheries Research Board of Canada (FRB) had established the
Freshwater Institute (FWI) in Winnipeg in 1966. One of the priorities
for this research facility was to investigate the eutrophication
process, the very problem that was plaguing Lake Erie. An experimental
lakes study area was given the go-ahead.
Today, Patrick Buat almost relishes the mad
scientist reputation he may have in the nearby communities. He
is involved in long-term studies that have him out there for
periods of up to six months. "They
may think there are sorcerers out here!" he says, with a glint
in his eye.
I ask Patricia Ramlal if she can spot any differences amongst
the fish we are feeding this morning. I expect her to say no. We're
talking ten thousand trout here! She smiles and tells me that she
can't, but Patrick has a few distinguished friends among the school.
We are fascinated by the close-up views he shows us thanks to an
underwater camera hooked up to a monitor above.
Patrick's enthusiasm for his project is infectious. He is one
of these people that doesn't walk anywhere. He dashes.
We come back to shore and head to the small, solar-powered research
station nearby. We know that Patrick had done his doctoral work
in Polynesia, that he has worked in places in the South Pacific
and Africa and that Patricia's post-doctorate background was in
chemistry.
As we settled in for our visit, I felt a bit apprehensive. Would
the conversation be so high-brow we wouldn't get it? Would we leave
more confused about what was going on here than when we arrived?
At least the day could not have been more perfect, the bright
sunshine, a crisp, fall breeze gently rippling Lake 375's surface,
a truly beautiful morning.
It turns out that the visit is perfect, too. There are a million
things to talk about. We had to drag ourselves away. Our hosts
completely belied the theory that may exist, that, in order to
understand what a scientist is talking about, you have to be a
scientist. Patrick and Patricia intuitively adjusted their explanations
to the level of their captivated audience.
We talked about the 35-year-old environmental initiative that
we were saluting today and how ELA research can provide dramatic
visual evidence of ecosystem stressors through large-scale experiments,
like the creation of small reservoirs, the drawing down of a lake
to expose a new shoreline or the aftermath of flooding events.
We were glad to be able to acknowledge the important and globally
significant work that scientists are doing at the Experimental
Lakes Area and as we pulled away from Lake 375, we realized we
were saying goodbye to 10,002 new friends.
http://www.umanitoba.ca/institutes/fisheries/
http://www.dfo-mpo.gc.ca/regions/central/science/enviro/ela-rle_e.htm
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Environmental Initiative #50
Tall-grass Prairie, Tolstoi,
Manitoba
It never fails.
'Put your trash into orbit' is always the
first thing that comes into my mind each time I drive across
the Ontario-Manitoba border.
The first time was in 1970, 34 years ago, and those were the
words on the sign that greeted me once I broke free of the
forests of the Canadian Shield and the awesome Big Sky of the
Prairies filled my windshield.
The sign was next to a trash can that looked like a flying
saucer and I think it was the first anti-litter sign I'd ever
seen on the side of the road.
The signs and the retro-futuristic trash cans are gone but
that feeling of wide open possibility that seems to shimmer
off the prairie floor is still there.
It's a gorgeous afternoon and Mission Green is rolling along
the highway.
"See those tall grasses in the ditch over there, boys?" I
radio to my teammates behind me. "Well, they've got nothing
on the grasses where we're going!"
I really had myself psyched up for walking among grasses that
towered over my head. We were heading to the Tall Grass Prairie
Preserve, in the southeastern corner of Manitoba and it was
going to be really something. It was going to be a swaying
ocean of orchids, lilies and grasses that reached over 2 metres
in height.
A mantra had developed in my head as we turned south on Highway
302, a dirt road cutting through the prairies,dust flying.
Tall Grass. Tall Grass. Tall Grass. We were going on safari.
We stopped to do some photography and meet our first Manitoban.
Friendly Dog tiptoed from a long driveway. He looked shy but
we didn't want to risk a possible and sudden rabid defense
of his territory so we just went about our business.
He was just so cute and curious, I couldn't
resist asking: "How
are you?"
He cocked his head to one side and lowering himself onto his
belly, he finally approached us. As he reached me, he playfully
rolled over to have his belly scratched. We were hooked. Friendly
Dog was doing his best to explain the Manitoba license plate
to Mission Green.
We got back en route and the rhythm of the rubber on the road
again started the hum of the Tall Grass chant in my head. We
were in the middle of absolute nowhere and a sign suddenly
announced that we had arrived.
There's nothing here but the sign with a box of self-guided
tour brochures nailed to it.
There's no community nearby, no houses, just a flat expanse,
as far as we could see, of short grassy scrubland.
Tall Grass? It barely reached my knees.
The brochure explained what had happened: " Before the arrival
of European settlers, the Red River Valley in south-central
Manitoba was a vast sea of tall-grass prairie, a complex ecosystem
with an astonishing variety of grasses, flowers and wildlife.
Dominated by grasses that reached over two metres in height,
this was the most productive type of prairie in North America. With
deep fertile soils the colour of coal, the prairie was soon
transformed by settlers."
The graceful grasses were replaced by cereal and forage crops
and tall-grass prairie in Manitoba was reduced to only a fraction
(less than 1%) of its former 6,000 square kilometres.
In 1989, the Critical Wildlife Habitat Program, a cooperative
program involving seven conservation organizations, began securing
lands in the Tolstoi-Gardenton area for a prairie preserve.
Today, over 2000 hectares of tall-grass prairie are protected
within this Preserve.
After the surprise of not finding gargantuan grasses diminished,
I was determined to experience the solitude and peacefulness
of the Preserve. It wasn't what I had thought it would be but
it was still a special place. We could feel it. We could smell
it.
The brochure told us about a 1.6-km trail that looped through
the savannah-like land. We headed in and it wasn't too long
before a frog hopped by.
"You know what that means," Pete warned. "Water."
With our rubber boots back in the vehicles,
we all muttered things to the effect of 'how bad can it be?'
I was back in 8 th Grade, on a hike through marshes near my
childhood home. You try and try to keep your feet dry but then
it happens. A soaker, the water comes in over the top of your
shoe and there you commit. The hike thereafter becomes an adventure.
As the Mission Green team sat on the tailgate of the Chevrolet,
wringing out our socks, I realized that this had been the most
relaxed event of the trip.
Okay, the grass wasn't tall and our shoes were soaked, possibly
ruined, but we had experienced an important event that we would
remember for a long time, our afternoon here in this immense
nowhere.
There was no one here to guide us or tell us about the place.
There was nothing here, no power lines, no humans, no sounds
of traffic, no airplanes overhead.
Just the rustling breeze in the grass and the huge blue dome
above us.
And the prairie, waiting patiently for the tall grass to come
back.
http://www.gov.mb.ca/conservation/wildlife/managing/cwhp_tallgrass.html
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