The blog finally gets an update now that committee meetings and research seminars are out of the way. Some photos of recent adventures:

In October, a bunch of biograds visited Horseshoe Lake, one of the lakes on the coastal plain thought to have been created by meteorite impact (maybe), and spent a day doing what we like best: wandering along open places, poking around, and identifying cool things. It was the perfect mix of people: lichen, plant, fungus and animal experts pointing out stuff the rest of us didn�t know.

Canoe-topped car: a first for the little Hyundai. It did very well, though the violent jolt on the ropes halfway down the highway was somewhat alarming.

The view from Horseshoe Lake once we were well up the northwest end. Flood-tolerant bald cypresses dotted the entire surface and were just beginning to change color.

More cypresses hanging out in the water. The lower right of the photo shows the beginning of one of many floating Sphagnum (moss) bogs, which grew denser as we made our way north.

Panning right, the rest of the bog. They grow into such thick mats that they�ll support your weight, as long as you don�t mind getting your feet wet. I imagine it must feel like stepping across a raft made of swimming pool noodles.

Here, D attempts to find out. O and I had been maneuvering the canoe (thank goodness she�d studied fish and knew how to steer, �cause I sure didn�t). We lodged our canoe into what looked like a firm part of the bog and let D gingerly exit the boat.

All looked well as he began shifting his weight onto the Sphagnum�and then the mat gave way, a giant hole appeared and suddenly he was up to his shoulders. The hole kept getting bigger as he attempted to turn around, which is why we�re all laughing. Sorry, dude. We�ll pick a better entry point next time.

D successfully climbed out and took the oar in front. Pause to take in the pitcher plants, sundew and a baby snapping turtle.

And then our adventure: We were going along nicely when, somehow, the oars ended up on the same side of the canoe and were pulled in exactly opposite directions. I had just enough time to jerk my head up, stare at O and register that tipping feeling before all three of us were dumped into the water. The first Natural History Society capsizing�let it be remembered forever.

Two very good things in our favor: (1) It would have taken a lot more water to sink the canoe, so all our rescuers had to do was flip it back over. (2) The Sphagnum was so dense that there was plenty of it underneath the surface. No treading water needed; we were pretty much standing in the middle of the lake.

After the initial shock wore off, the whole thing became extremely funny.

Except for the part about having on four cotton layers.

Luckily the weather stayed amazing, and we dried off as we continued onward.

The final stop on the north end, where cypresses closed off the path. We lingered in the still waters to take in the vegetation and call in warblers and thrushes.

Someone noted how, despite our falling in with binoculars and cell phones, the bag of cupcakes was held above our heads the entire time.

We headed back to the shore as the afternoon wore on, where the dunked ones borrowed dry clothes and others sampled prickly pear seeds and muscadine grapes. And then, a short car trip to explore�xeric oak scrub!!


Different oaks and pines, of course, and certainly no scrub-jays, but the white sand trails, reindeer moss and truck tracks were enough to bring back memories of Archbold. Seeing this place was unexpected and wonderful.

Our fearless armada.

The day�s participants, before we headed back to Durham by way of I-95 and Cracker Barrel.

November photos next!