My Favorite State Parks

National parks get a lot of buzz, especially since the 100th anniversary of the National Park Service in 2016. But with 50 states to chose from, there are a lot of amazing state parks out there. Many are overlooked, as most people are only aware of their own state's parks. I've been to a few places, so here's a look at my Top 5 state parks that I've been to.

#5 Cape May Point State Park, New Jersey

Located at the southern tip of New Jersey where Delaware Bay meets the Atlantic, Cape May Point is a key birding location along the Atlantic flyway. The main feature is the lighthouse completed in 1859, there are a few miles of trails that wind through a varied landscape of beach, wetland, and forest habitats. The trails connect to an adjacent Audubon Society property, creating a complex of protected natural habitat in a popular vacation destination.

Coastal forest

Lighthouse seen through marsh grasses

#4 Ohiopyle State Park, Pennsylvania

For thousands of years, the Youghiogheny River has snaked its way through the mountains of western Pennsylvania, cutting through rough terrain as it tumbles towards Pittsburgh. Today, Ohiopyle preserves a stretch of the river known for its waterfalls and rapids, surrounded by dense forest. In the 1750s, George Washington said the Youghiogheny could never be tamed, and because of its wild beauty, I hope he is right.

Laurel Highlands

Ohiopyle Falls

#3 Myakka River State Park, Florida

As the Florida State Parks website says, this is the REAL Florida. Myakka River is worlds away from the resorts, theme parks, and strip malls, and Florida Man stories but only minutes away by car. Leave your thoughts of the modern world behind as you trek through palm forest, wet and dry prairie, freshwater wetlands, and even a walkway in the treetops. Every bend in the trail presents new opportunities for wildlife watching, from fire ants to roseate spoonbills to alligators. Highlights include a boat tour when the river is high enough, and a tower that rises high above the surrounding trees.

Alligators, black vultures, roseate spoonbills, and wood storks in Myakka River

Wildflowers in a dry prairie

#2 Custer State Park, South Dakota

Fall in love with the West at Custer. This park preserves mountain lakes, towering granite spires, and rolling prairie in the Black Hills. Custer State Park is most famous for its 18 mile Wildlife Loop Road, where you are almost guaranteed to see deer, elk, pronghorn, and the iconic bison. The Needles Highway winds though granite spires at elevations so much higher than the surrounding prairie, you'll feel on top of the world. To the native Sioux inhabitants, it was the top of their world.

Bison roaming the prairie

The Needles

#1 Larrabee State Park, Washington

My top state park is where the majestic forests of the Pacific Northwest meet the sea. Peaceful lakes drain through bubbling streams in a quiet forest, reaching the Salish Sea at rocky beaches. At low tide, sea urchins, anemones, and starfish briefly become part of our world while they wait for the incoming tide to return their world. If you find the right trail, you can sit cliffside and watch seagulls fly beneath your feet.

Forested headland

A small stream trickles toward the Salish Sea

This list is subjective and based on no criteria at all. If you chose to visit these or any other parks, check conditions first and carry the 10 essentials. Be aware of all hazards including wildlife and weather. Remember to leave no trace. 

Photo credits my own

The Hunt for Red Knot

For the second time in three years, I journeyed to the Delaware Bay beaches of New Jersey in search of the red knot, a long-distance voyager from South America. In 2019 I spent a day scouring Cape May County and while I had a great day of birding, I was unsuccessful. I decided to try again in a year, spending a few weekdays on vacation there to have 24 hour access to the beaches while avoiding the weekend crowds. That trip was cancelled because of Covid, although I'm sure the shorebird migration was unaffected. This year I was able to make the trip, giving myself a Sunday, Monday, and part of Tuesday to find the elusive little sandpiper.

Red knot (USFWS)

Sunday, May 23rd was one of the warmest days of the year so far. I wasn't in a rush to get anywhere so I wasn't on the road at the crack of dawn, but I didn't want to waste any daylight. Leaving by 7:30 was a good compromise. I made great time getting to the beaches in the area of Villas, NJ. Two years ago my first stop was Kimbles Beach, a part of Cape May National Wildlife Refuge. I decided to stop there first again. There were laughing gulls and "peeps", a generic term for the little sandpipers that all look alike to me. They weren't present in as great a number as 2019, and it could be because this year's trip was a little later in the migration than before.

Peeps and gulls feeding at Kimbles Beach

The tide was on its way out, and there were quite a few horseshoe crabs on the beach, and pearly green eggs in the wrack line. Some were making their way back into the bay, while others were burying themselves in the sand. Still more were dead, becoming meals for the birds and other critters. I scanned up and down the beach, but no red knots. There was a volunteer naturalist on duty, and she told me to check back later in the day when the tide is coming back in, about four in the afternoon.

Horseshoe crab eggs

It was late morning, so I had quite a bit of time to kill until then. My next stop was Higbee's Beach, where I saw my first American oystercatcher two years earlier. This time there were more people than birds on the beach so I didn't spend much time there. The highlight of this beach was a whelk egg case that had washed ashore.

Whelk egg case

The clock was still slowly ticking away until the tide returned, so I went to Fire Control Tower #23, a World War II observation tower. It was lovingly restored and opened to the the public for tours while I was living in Washington, and in 2019 I arrived just after it closed for the day. I was determined to get inside this time after years of wondering what was in there.

Skipping over the history lesson and staying on track with nature, the real reason for my visit, I had a picnic lunch at Cape May Point State Park before hitting the trails there. The trail I chose was a loop through a maritime forest and around a freshwater pond. Swans and ducks were beating the heat with a swim, songbirds serenaded me, and the air was scented with saltwater, bayberry, and eastern red cedar. Some wildflowers added a splash of color, and a muskrat lodge was the only sign of mammals. By the lighthouse, a flock of purple martins flitted around their little hotel on a pole, calling to each other and snagging insects like little flying acrobats.

Muskrat lodge

I checked in at my AirBNB just a block from the bay and took a nap until it was time for the tide to return. I went back to Kimbles Beach and waited. The horseshoe crabs were still there, and in greater numbers. The laughing gulls and peeps were still there, but no sign of red knots. A few other people came to the beach and we talked about wildlife for a while. I was scanning to the south and Liz, a birder from North Jersey, was scanning to the north. She spotted the red knots in a mixed flock. Finally, after two years I got the bird I was after. Much like the first time seeing the horseshoe crabs spawning, it was a surreal experience.

Horseshoe crabs coming ashore to spawn

A mixed flock that includes red knots

Seeing the red knot on the first day freed up the rest of my time to look at other wildlife areas. I went to Sunset Beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mercury and Venus after sunset, but the clouds had already come in by then. I spent some time at the gift shop and got a few items for my friends while I waited for the traffic situation there to clear out, then got some nighttime lighthouse pictures.

Monday was cloudy, drizzly, and about 30 degrees cooler. I wasn't about to let a few raindrops ruin my day. A rainy day at the beach is better than a sunny day at work. After breakfast in Cape May, I went to the Nature Conservancy's Garrett Family Preserve. It's a small property in between a residential neighborhood and Cape Island Creek. The property is a matrix of forest and field up against a salt marsh. I saw and heard quite a few songbirds, a young rabbit, a baby diamondback terrapin, a duck, a turkey vulture, wildflowers, a pile of feathers and bones, and some bee hives. In the salt marsh, there was an osprey on the nest and a bunch of holes where I saw some kind of motion. It was fiddler crabs scuttling back into the holes when they saw me coming.

Baby diamondback terrapin

My next stop was South Cape May Meadows, another Nature Conservancy property on the Atlantic. I first went there in 2019 and had a great day of bird watching. This time was more of the same, despite the drizzle. I saw my first glossy ibis and more turtles. However, it was just turtle heads poking out of the water so I couldn't tell what kind they were. There was another muskrat lodge, swans, ducks, geese, terns, and peeps. On the beach in the fenced off nesting area there were terns, oystercatchers, and some other bird that was too far for me to identify. I came across a toad, lots of feeding peeps including dowitchers, otter scat, and more piles of feathers where some bird met its demise. 

Long-billed dowitcher

Beach toad

Glossy ibis

A walk around Lake Lily brought me pond lilies, a robin fledgling, and a family of swans. After a late lunch I went to the wildlife refuge's Two Mile Beach unit on the Atlantic outside of Wildwood. While I didn't see them, there are snowy plovers nesting there. By the time I got there, the rain became steadier than a drizzle and the dark clouds and high wind made for an angry looking ocean. I continued walking the trails. More ducks and peeps, my first eastern towhee, and my first yellow warbler were waiting for me.I decided to head back to the bay to see if the red knots would be back with the rising tide. But first, I had to hit the boardwalk and grab some more gifts. Bubble blowing unicorns are in, license plates with your name are out.

Kimbles Beach was getting a steady rain when I arrived, but the wind was gone. Despite the incoming tide, the waves were almost nonexistent. So were the crabs. And so were the red knots. I decided to order dinner and call it a night. I had one last stop planned for Tuesday before going home, but my GPS wanted me to drive around a trailer park so I just left. One of the last things I saw before leaving New Jersey was a great blue heron flying over the Delaware River. 

The plan for finding the red knot worked. I avoided weekend traffic for the most part, I slept in an ideal location, the weather was mostly cooperative, I learned a lot, and saw a blend of new sites and old. I saw close to 30 different bird species, 5 that I never saw before, including the one bird I went to see. My long weekend was a nice break from the office and recharged my batteries for me, in spite of the miles I put on my feet.

Species of the Month

Halloween is just around the corner. Traditionally, we examine a spooky critter with a connection to Halloween for the Species of the Month. This year let’s try something different. There’s nothing scary about a ghost crab, but its name fits the season. 

Ghost crab (Science Magazine)

Scientific name: Ocypode quadrata 

Kingdom: Animalia (animals)

Class: Malacostraca (soft-shelled crustaceans)

Order: Decapoda (ten-footed crustaceans)

Range: Rhode Island to Brazil 

Habitat: Ocean or estuary beaches, from the tide line to the dunes 

Lifespan: 3 years 

Diet: Bean clams, mole crabs, sea turtle eggs and hatchlings, organic detritus 

Predators: Shore birds, gulls, raccoons 

Conservation status: No special protection

Other info: Ghost crabs are small, nocturnal crustaceans. They grow to about a two inch carapace (back shell) with long legs and eye stalks, and their claws are uneven sizes. Ghost crabs hatch from an egg in the ocean and go through six larval stages before developing into adult crabs. Unlike other crabs that can only mate when the female is molting, ghost crabs can and do mate at anytime after reaching maturity which is usually after a year old.  

Juvenile ghost crab (NPS)

Ghost crabs live in burrows in the sand. They plug the holes during the day and emerge at night for feeding and mating. Mating occurs near the male’s burrow. They travel several feet per night and may not return to the same burrow. Occasionally they will go into the water to wet their gills; they are also capable of absorbing water from the sand into their gills. 

Ghost crabs can be used as an indicator species to monitor the health of their habitat. Populations can be easily estimated by counting burrows. Knowing the status of the crab population can tell what kind of impact human activities are having on the ecosystem overall. Off road vehicles and coastal development are the biggest challenges we give them. 

A pair of ghost crabs (NPS)

Once again this week's information comes from the Animal Diversity Web at University of Michigan. Next week is a rerun. We'll have fresh content after Halloween. Stay tuned!

South American Splendor

Hispanic Heritage Month is about to wrap up, and before it does let's celebrate by taking a look at some of the fantastic ecosystems south of the border. While the Amazon and Andes are the best known features of South America, there are many diverse habitats. This week we're exploring the Pantanal, the Pampas, and the Llanos, important natural features maybe you've never heard of.

The Pantanal is the largest wetlands in the world, located in Brazil, Bolivia, and Paraguay. Located just south of the Amazon, and in its shadow, the Pantanal actually has a higher concentration of wildlife than its more celebrated neighbor. This wetland is flooded by annual monsoon rains that leave behind pools of snacks for birds. Unlike the Amazon, the Pantanal is open, so ecotourism is easier. Not only are there better views of the wildlife and scenery, it's also more accessible because of the openness.

Pantanal (The Guardian)

The Pampas is a large grassland like the Serengeti or the Great Plains. It is in Argentina, Brazil, and Uraguay. It is flat and gently slopes toward the Atlantic. The western Pampas near the Andes is a dry section with brackish streams and ponds, but in the east it is more humid, better watered, and more fertile. While much of the land is still unchanged, large areas have been developed for agriculture.

Pampas (The South American Specialists)

The Llanos is a tropical grassland in Colombia and Venezuela. Wedged between mountains and highlands, the Orinoco River drains the region. Seasonal rains flood the plains, and after the rainy season it can be quite parched. The dryness had limited development in the past, but irrigation and mining activities are making it economical for people to live in the area.

Llanos (Latin America & Caribbean Geographic)

South America has so much more to offer than tropical rain forests and jagged mountain peaks. I hope this piqued your curiosity about these and other lesser known natural wonders. Information this week comes from National Geographic (Pantanal), Britannica (Pampas), and Geography (Llanos).

The Ozarks

 Last month I visited family in Missouri. I'd been through Missouri many years before, and remember it being mostly flat. I was travelling out of St. Louis towards Kansas City then. This time, I went southwest out of St. Louis. The road was like sailing the ocean over the waves. Up down one hill then up the next. I always thought the Ozarks were in the southwest corner of the state. It turns out pretty much the whole southern half of Missouri is Ozarks. The undulation leveled out a bit once I reached the Springfield Plateau in the southwest. But it was nowhere near as flat as Illinois.

The wildlife in the Ozarks is different from what I'm used to in Pennsylvania. However, I didn't get to see very many new critters. There are freshwater clams in Stockton Lake. I saw plenty of armadillos, but they were all dead. No roadrunners, no rattlesnakes, no scorpions, and no tarantulas. I saw some insects that I have at home, like a wheel bug, a milkweed bug, and the ubiquitous deer. Southern leopard frogs in a spring house at a Civil War battlefield was a nice surprise.

Wheel bug

Bird poop moth

Milkweed beetle

Black swallowtail

Freshwater clam

There was more forest than I expected to see. I got to check out some oak savanna. Most of the land in the Springfield Plateau that I saw was farmland. There were some crops, mostly corn, but the majority was cattle pasture.

It was nice to see some butterflies finally. Compared to last summer, I haven't seen very many this year. Apparently once you leave Bucks County they are everywhere. The Flight 93 memorial in western Pennsylvania has quite a few grasshoppers too. Turkeys flew across the road ahead of me somewhere in that area. Elsewhere, the sky was full of turkey vultures and hawks that I couldn't identify. A fox ran across the road ahead of me in Indiana.

Dead luna moth

Fence lizard

Fritillary (left) and buckeye (right) butterflies

Southern leopard frogs

Dead armadillo

Even though I didn't set out to explore nature on this trip, it still happened. It happens everywhere I go now that I've been trained to see things everywhere. Next time you are out and about, take a look around and notice what you see.

Tiger swallowtail

Oak savanna

Nuclear Energy

Nuclear energy harnesses the power of the atom to generate tremendous amounts of electricity
from a very small amount or fuel. This controversial source is non-renewable because there is a
finite amount of uranium, and while it produces no carbon emissions it is not “green” because of
the radioactive waste it produces.

Nuclear power plants use the heat created by splitting uranium atoms to create steam either by
boiling water or turning pressurized water into steam without boiling it. The steam turns turbines,
which generate electricity. In both boiling water and pressurized water systems the steam is
condensed back into water to be cycled again. 

Nuclear fission in action

Much of the controversy surrounding nuclear energy is a fear of what could happen. In the years
since nuclear energy plants began generating, there have been three major accidents- Three Mile
Island in 1979, Chernobyl in 1986, and Fukushima Daiichi in 2011. An example of what could go
wrong follows.

Three Mile Island was a loss of coolant accident. A mechanical failure prevented water from
reaching the reactor core to cool it. As pressure began to build in the core, a relief valve opened
as it should have, but remained stuck open when pressure returned to normal levels. Cooling
water poured out of the valve, but plant staff was unaware as instruments indicated the valve was
closed. Without correct information from instrument readings, staff incorrectly reduced the amount
of cooling water going to the reactor, which caused it to overheat. The zirconium cladding that
contained the uranium fuel pellets began to melt. A hydrogen bubble formed inside the containment
dome, raising fears of an explosion and containment breach. Pregnant women and small children
were ordered to evacuate, and there was a release of radiation (done intentionally to relieve pressure)
but not enough to cause any health issues. Plant staff resumed the flow of cooling water and were
able to reduce the hydrogen bubble. The reactor stabilized, and it was discovered that about half
of the core had melted. 

Three Mile Island. The cooling towers for the damaged
reactor are in the foreground. (Lancaster Online)

Safety has improved considerably at US plants. In fact, the costs associated with safety, security,
and permitting have become almost prohibitive to opening new plants. A plant in Tennessee will
be coming online in late 2016, over 40 years after construction began because low demand for
electricity and did not justify the cost of completing the plant until recently.

Aside from safety concerns, spent nuclear fuel is an issue no one is quite sure how to deal with.
Currently, spent nuclear fuel is stored on-site at power plants. First, it is stored in a cooling pool
for a minimum of five years. When it has cooled enough, it is encased in a concrete and steel cask.
However, the material will remain radioactive for thousands of years and a permanent location for
disposal has yet to be found. Reprocessing allows uranium and the resulting plutonium to be reused
as fuel, which cuts down on the amount of waste material but only delays the problem.

Spent nuclear fuel in a cooling pool (International Atomic Energy Agency)

One potential solution to the waste problem is transatomic power, which dissolves nuclear waste
into molten salt, would reduce the amount of spent nuclear fuel by using it again. It also has the
potential to reduce the half-life of waste, or amount of time that it takes for half of the mass to decay
and no longer be radioactive.

Another negative environmental impact of nuclear energy is the potential for radioactive release or
water pollution from tailings at uranium mines. Uranium tailings are radioactive, and may contain
sulfides that can produce acids. Tailings should be placed within an engineered dam and then back
inside the mine when operations conclude (World Nuclear Association, 2013).

After examining various methods of energy production, it has become clear that no source is
completely free of environmental impacts. The negative impacts are wide ranging, from localized
to single windmill to a global scale with fossil fuels. Fossil fuels have been widely panned for the
environmental damage they cause at a regional level for oil spills to the global climate change
linked to carbon dioxide emissions. They have been ruled out as the “greenest” energy, but what
about the others? 

Wind, solar, tidal, and geothermal appear to have the least negative environmental impacts but
can be limited by factors such as geology, topography, and weather. As technology advances, it
may be able to overcome these limitations. An ideal solution to the fossil fuel problem is to
increase their generating capacity and incorporate them into an improved and more efficient grid.
Since these sources, as well as hydroelectric, are mainly regional a better grid would blend all
electricity into a single network that can easily transfer energy to rapidly meet demand. Thus,
hydroelectric from the Pacific Northwest could supply power to Iowa when the wind stops blowing. 

So what is the “greenest” energy? It is all a matter of personal preference and an individual’s
tolerance for the different negative impacts. Bird strikes from wind energy may be a more pressing
concern for some people than fish strikes caused by tidal energy. 

This week's information comes from Duke Energy, Nuclear Regulatory Agency, Wired, Nuclear Regulatory Commission, Transatomic Power, and World Nuclear Association.