In the early-1990s, some conservation-minded folks had a vision to protect and restore one of the last remaining mountain bogs in Georgia...
In the early-1990s, some conservation-minded folks had a vision to protect and restore one of the last remaining mountain bogs in Georgia.
The bog was small then; you might miss it if you weren’t looking for it. Although about the size of a dining room table, this remote place had something that made it unique: the last native population of
mountain purple pitcherplants in the state. Restoring the bog would
become a 20-year effort. The early days were a learning period for
many, with mistakes and successes, but ultimately the bog began to flourish again.
On a recent day, about 10 dedicated plant conservationists, most from the Georgia Plant Conservation Alliance, head out with loppers and chain saws to continue the hard work of restoring the bog. Geared in boots and thick gloves, they are ready for the swamp.
After a rocky ride up the mountain, bouncing in and out of mud-filled
ruts, the group unloads to complete the remaining one-mile trek on
foot.
Carrying packs, water and tools, members start the climb.
As they approach the bog, the sense of anticipation and excitement is
palpable. Quiet conversation turns to chatter. The last few hundred
yards veer off the main trail and the voices grow louder as one by one
the workers climb, shimmy and clamber through a jungle of tangled
tree-sized rhododendron branches. It is almost as if the bog has sealed itself off from the world.
Within 100 yards, however, the tangled branches give way to a clearing.
The group gathers to divvy up the work. Much needs to be done and time is short.
Jennifer Ceska of the State Botanical Garden of Georgia sets up a GPS unit to take measurements from the perimeters of the original bog and the restored area. Until recently this was done by hand. Ceska consults page after page of hand-drawn maps to get her bearings. She explains excitedly that they have never delineated the areas with GPS, and that the expansion of suitable habitat has been difficult to measure. Now with computer models created from the GPS data, they can accurately determine the true impact of the restoration work.
David Vincent and Mike Brod of the U.S. Forest Service head into the
wall of rhododendron with chain saws. A loud buzz fills the air as they
begin expanding the clearing. Volunteers from the Atlanta Botanical
Garden, the Department of Natural Resources and the State Botanical
Garden don gloves, grab loppers and follow the chain saws at a safe
distance. These swampers are responsible for hauling away the
piles of branches and sticks as they come down.
Mountain bogs are one of the most critically endangered habitats in the southern Appalachians. Typically between a half-acre to 5 acres, they are associated with seeps, springs or small creeks, and provide
critical habitat for the federally threatened bog turtle and swamp pink, two of Georgia's most rare species.
Restoration involves not only clearing sites but also finding and
taking careful inventory of potential bogs, safeguarding the seeds of
rare plants and monitoring restored sites for rare species such as the
pitcherplant. Mountain bog restoration is listed as a high-priority
action in Georgia's State Wildlife Action Plan, a blueprint for
conservation.
See this? asks Ceska as she proudly steps on a patch of
fuzzy-looking, spongy ground. That's sphagnum moss! You may have a wetland, but if you have sphagnum moss, then you have a bog.
Sphagnum mosses are deep green, red and yellow moss species that are the prime indicator species of pitcherplant bog habitat.
Pitcherplants can live for more than 100 years. Although old, the
original surviving pitcherplants of this bog have never flowered, lying
dormant in the shade with little if any natural light due to the
continued encroachment by hardwoods and rhododendron. But in 1998, after much hard work, the pitcherplants in one area of the bog flowered again.
And in 2002, the first seedlings were found, the hallmark of habitat
restoration success.
Workers hope to encourage other pitcherplants in the bog to do the same thing by releasing them from their dark rhododendron cover.
Opening the bog up is slow work. It must be. Too much too soon and the bog would flood without the thick trees sucking up the excess
groundwater that seeps from a natural spring. But since the restoration work began in 1995, the bog has more than doubled in size.
As the day draws to a close, the buzz of the chain saws halts and the
workers begin to pack their belongings for the hike back to the
vehicles. They leave the bog full of hope that the quarter-acre they
cleared will have a lasting impact on the recovery of this important
site. Plans are made to return next month for another workday.
As the last of the weary workers leaves, the sun breaks through the
clouds and spreads warm light across the bog’s pitcherplants,
shadowed in darkness no more.
For more from Wildlife Resources, contact:
John Jensen, senior wildlife biologist - (478) 994-1438;
john.jensen@gadnr.org
Matt Elliott, Nongame program manager - (770) 918-6411;
matt.elliott@gadnr.org
Rick Lavender, public affairs coordinator - (770) 918-6787;
rick.lavender@gadnr.org