Photo by Robert Vanderpool/US Fish & Wildlife Service

Surviving a wildfire

Most wild animals out ran wildfires that ravaged thousands of acres this summer near the Pocosin Lakes Wildlife Refuge in eastern North Carolina.
“They smell the smoke, and they head in the other direction,” said Bonnie Strawser, a spokeswoman for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service.
The fire, sparked by a lightning strike on private land June 1, devoured more than 40,000 acres as firefighters struggled to contain it.
Deer, bear and birds that fledged before the fire would have no difficulty escaping the flames, state biologists said.
“That’s not to say we’re not losing any animals,” Strawser said. Burrowing animals such as turtles, groundhogs and voles likely suffered fatalities, as did young birds. Wildlife officials, who look at populations rather than individual animals, said wildlife populations often increase after a fire because of the new growth. “As bad as this fire may appear, with the smoke and the heat, there may be good that can come out of it,” said Tommy Hughes, a biologist with the Wildlife Resources Commission, in a press release. “Smoky and nasty as this fire is, the animals are getting out of there, and there is an abundance of habitat that is created for some species

Down on the farm

On the old Hauser Farm near Pilot Mountain, apples are ripening on the trees and grapes hang heavy on the vine. Guinea fowl run through the woods, giving a call that sounds like “come back, come back.” In the pasture, a cow stretches its neck and lows while a horse swats at flies with its tail. Kittens wrestle in the shadow of the barn.

You can imagine what it was like here in 1900, because not much has changed. The door to the old farm house stands open, as though the family’s only just been called away. Handmade quilts cover the feather beds, a piano sits silent in the parlor. A stereoscope used for viewing photos has been abandoned on a table.

The farm is now called the Horne Creek Historical Farm, and is part of the state park system, under development to recreate a family farm from the early 20th century.

We stopped there last Friday and wandered around the grounds for an hour or so. I found myself envying the people who had lived here in a world without computers or cell phones.

As we walked past the orchard on our way to the car, a deer ran in front of us, jumping over an old rail fence, then slipping into the woods quiet as a ghost.

Canoeing the New

Hummingbirds hover above the wildflowers. A kingfisher perches on the end of a limb, its rattling call vibrating in the air before it takes off again looking for a meal. A muskrat swims along the banks of the river as small fish dart between the rocks.

This is the New River in Jefferson, N.C., on a recent Friday afternoon. The tranquility here is enough to revive even the weariest of souls.

The outfitter leaves us off on a narrow, winding road next to the river. Cows wade in the water upstream, unperturbed by human activity.

The New River is one of the oldest rivers in North America, flowing north through Virginia and West Virginia, into the Kanawha and Ohio Rivers and eventually into the Gulf of Mexico through the Mississippi River. It was here even before the mountains that surround it, according to a state Web site (www.ncparks.gov/Visit/parks/neri/history.php.) Archaeological digs have turned up arrowheads and pottery shards. On a summer afternoon, the forest bordering the water appears dark and primeval, a place of mysteries.

It takes us four hours to paddle upstream. Fishermen cast their lines from the middle of the river, kids drift past in inner tubes. Time stops. Cell phones and politics are forgotten.

The only discordant note comes at the end of the trip. As we pull the canoe out of the water at the New River General Store, two F-15 fighter planes on a training mission burst above the tree line with a deafening roar, then quickly disappear, a disturbing reminder of man’s mark upon the land