Pettigrew State Park: photos and species lists

On Saturday, April 3, 2010, my husband, little boy and I visited and spent the night at Pettigrew State Park in Creswell, NC. If you're interested in camping at the park, be sure to reserve a spot in advance. As usual, the park did not disappoint: interesting bird, amphibian and reptile sightings started almost immediately. A list of species seen and heard, as well as some photos of our trip, follows.

Birds.- boat tailed grackle*, mourning dove*, blue jay*, northern cardinal*, northern flicker*, white throated sparrow*, Carolina wren*, downy woodpecker*, red-bellied woodpecker, ruby-crowned kinglet*, tufted titmouse*, common yellowthroat*, American robin*, northern mockingbird*, eastern meadowlark, yellow throated warbler, northern parula, eastern towhee*, eastern screech owl* (note: * marks birds that were seen, no asterisk mean the birds was identified by ear)

Amphibians.- southern leopard frog, Fowler's toads, spring peeper

Reptiles.- northern black racer, copperhead, eastern garter snake, Eumeces spp.,

Butterflies.- zebra swallowtail, falcate orangetip, Polyommatinae spp., Polygonia spp., tiger swallowtail, Papilio spp.

Plants in bloom.- jack-in-the-pulpit, Viola spp.

Other interesting plant species.- devil's walking stick

zebra swallow tail

eastern garter snake

cypress at Lake Phelps

Lake Phelps in the morning mist

black racer

mantid lacewing?

copperhead

Turtles Times at Goose Creek State Park (Beaufort County, North Carolina)

Here is all you really need to know: It was May 2007. We arrived at Goose Creek State Park. And “turtle time” began.

My trusty companion (my husband, Mark) and I pulled up to the primitive campground in our reliable blue Jeep. I jumped out of the passenger side before Mark even turned off the ignition, my feet landing on coarse tan sand overlain with pine needles. Finally, I groaned. The trip from Durham had seemed endless. As each moment of our two and a half hour drive ticked by, I had painfully envisioned the herps and warblers we were missing at the park.

Fate was mocking me that day. As I deeply inhaled the briny air, calming my frazzled nerves, and turned to survey the tall longleaf and loblolly pines sprayed with Spanish moss, movement caught my eye. A dullish-brown object resembling an upside-down dinner plate seemed to scuttle away from me. Turtle! Mark, a turtle! I yelled. I rushed ahead, catching up with a big female yellow-bellied slider who was leaving a strange trail of half-moon imprints in the sandy debris as her webbed feet propelled her along the forest floor. This sizeable female, with the faded yellow mask that distinguishes her species from North Carolina’s nineteen other aquatic turtles, was moving away from Goose Creek, a former refuge for pirates like Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet, which runs into North Carolina’s Pamlico Sound .

Mark put it all together before I did. She’s going off to nest, he opined with the confidence of a lifelong naturalist. And he was probably right: yellow-bellied sliders nest in May and early June in the Carolinas, and usually find a mesic spot away from water in which to lay eight to twelve creamy oblong eggs. Tiny, carnivorous sliders will hatch after about two months, as long as the eggs evade the detection of pilfering raccoons, and eventually those juvenile turtles mature into the omnivorous, sun-loving adults of floating logs that we all know and love.

I snapped some photos of our mama-to-be, and then looked at Mark meaningfully, We have to start walking, I said sternly, terrified that we might miss one of Goose Lake State Park’s natural wonders. We had a lot of ground to cover: Goose Lake State Park houses six hiking trails, ranging from the 0.4 mile Live Oak Trail that goes past an old cemetery and skirts Pamlico Sound to the 1.9 mile Goose Creek Trail that descends through Cypress swamp. The six trails are interconnected, and I wanted to explore them all.

Yellow-bellied slider, Goose Creek State Park, 15 May 2007 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Our first goal was to investigate Flatty Creek, a small and mysterious stream that feed the Pamlico River and terminates in a sedge and sawgrass marsh perfect for nesting herons, egrets and rails. First we walked through pine woods that seemed to get swampier and swampier with every step. As we got closer to the creek, we heard the buzzy trill of the northern parula, a tiny gray warbler with a yellow breast known to loiter around wet woods, gleaning insects from the foliage. We stepped onto a little footbridge and spied a good-sized red-bellied water snake. My husband looked back at me with a satisfied smile, before continuing. A minute later, we came across another footbridge. I peered into the brown-black water, intrigued by bright orange-yellow flecks in the shallow pool. Mark, I hissed sotto voce. He hadn’t heard me. He was walking away. Quickly, barely thinking, I dropped to my knees and lunged forward, plunging my hand into the warm tea-colored swamp. My wet hand emerged triumphant. I had captured a spotted turtle.

Mark! Mark! I hollered, turtle in hand. He hurried back to me, perplexed that I was still at the bridge until he saw my yellow-spotted prize. Oh wow, he said, his voice hushed with reverence, a spotted turtle. For both of us, this spotted turtle was a first, a species to be added to our “life list” of herps. Moreover, spotted turtles are not particularly common. Limited to the Great Lakes and the coast of the eastern United States, these denizens of wet meadows and swamps are listed as threatened by the World Conservation Union, and remain defenseless against land development and habitat drainage. After a few minutes, we carefully returned the teeny, four inch turtle to its muddy home and continued to explore the park.

Our exploration led us to scenic flat marsh vistas, took us past cypress swamps and beneath the secret homes of warblers and wrens nestled in the tall pines. We imagined ourselves running into bobcats and bears, Goose Creek natives still found in the area today. Late in the afternoon, after hours of birding and tree identification, one more surprise was waiting for us. On the trail back to the primitive camp, nestled in pine needles, we found an eastern box turtle. Bright eyed and vividly colored with yellow stripes crisscrossing its brown carapace, the familiar eastern box turtle brought a whimsical smile to our faces and left us with warm memories of “turtle times” at Goose Creek State Park.

Eastern box turtle, Goose Creek State Park, 15 May 2007 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Pettigrew State Park (Creswell, NC)

We stand on a boardwalk extending over a large, glassy lake encircled by bulky cypress whose stark horizontal branches are softened by curtains of Spanish moss. Through the morning mist, I can almost discern an ancient Algonquian fisherman canoeing in the shallow water. I can nearly make out the low voice of this haunting mirage, calling out to his wife on the shore, but seagulls begin squawking loudly overhead, thus arresting my self-indulgent reverie at Pettigrew State Park.

My husband and I first explored this captivatingly beautiful park in the spring of 2006. Located in North Carolina’s pancake-flat outer coastal plain, seven miles south of Creswell, Pettigrew State Park consists of over 5,000 acres of wild lands that surround mysterious Lake Phelps, North Carolina’s second largest lake, and border the tea-colored Scuppernong River. Nine miles of hiking trails takes weekend explorers past bald cypresses ten feet thick, comparably rare white cedars, and gorgeous wildflower displays.

Those same nine miles of hiking trails introduced Mark and I to both the brutality and delicacy of the natural world. The park also yielded numerous herps (i.e., reptiles and amphibians) and birds, which we added to our “life lists” (i.e., a semi-narcissistic record of all the species one has ever seen, used to impress few and bore many). But I digress, on to the brutality.

About 15 minutes after arriving at the park, Mark and I stood near the edge of a swampy thicket, filled with dense evergreen shrubs and some medium-sized trees. With binoculars gripped tightly and pressed close to our faces, we watched a yellow-billed cuckoo ten feet up with bated breath. The yellow-billed cuckoo, also known as the Rain Crow because of its propensity to call before storms, is generally shy and elusive. These jay-sized, brown-backed and white-breasted denizens of wet woodlands, are distinguished by the yellow of their lower mandible (ornithologist-speak for beak), a gargled ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-kowp-kowp-kowp-kowp-kowp masquerading as a song, and the clear cooing call that is their name-sake.

The yellow-billed cuckoo, with its five inch wide nests looking more like tea plates than bowls and delicate blue eggs, seems harmless enough, even a little pathetic. So much so, that no one even seems to mind that they sometimes borrow others species’ abandoned abodes. However, this bird’s secretive habits and sloppy nests mask a brutal nature. As my husband and I stood mesmerized by this motionless avian specimen, we noticed a devious spark in its eye. Suddenly, it made a hopping dash, drew its head down with lightening-speed and came up with a large, lime-colored green tree frog. The yellow-billed cuckoo, with unabashed relish, gobbled down its amphibian feast.

After shaking off the after shocks of this brutal scene, we continued our hike. We literally nearly stumbled upon a big eastern box turtle in the middle of the path, and even found a long, sinuous red-bellied water snake basking in the dappled sun light. Soon we were introduced to Nature’s more delicate side. At eye-level, in the lush under-story of the lacustrine woods, two large butterflies danced before us. The butterflies were striped like zebras, white and black, but the white lines were imbued with an iridescent, almost glowing quality. The hind-wings were splashed with a hint of crimson and azure, ending in long tails.

We were watching the mating dance of the zebra swallowtail butterfly, a resident of the eastern United States known to breed in moist, low woodlands like those at Pettigrew State Park. The male zebra swallowtail typically searches for a mate near larval host plants, i.e., young paw-paws that the zebra swallowtail caterpillars thrive on. After mating concludes, the female will lay tiny rounded eggs on the leaves or trunk of pawpaws. These foam-green eggs are laid singly and relatively far apart because zebra swallowtail caterpillars will actually eat their siblings and neighbors, if they get too close. After feeding on paw-paw leaves, the caterpillar eventually forms a hard-shelled case resembling a curled-up, dried leaf. In fall or the following spring, another enchanting zebra swallowtail will emerge from this unprepossessing chrysalis, starting the cycle anew. For my husband and I, the twirling path of the frolicking zebra swallowtails and the erratic beating of their wings, lulled us back into reveries of days past at Pettigrew State Park, and left us content with the capriciousness of nature, human and otherwise.

Additional Information: Click on the link for maps & directions.

Dendromania at Pilot Mountain

One Sunday morning, a number of years ago when my husband and I were still new to North Carolina and dedicated to seeing its plethora of natural wonders one-by-one, we ventured forth to see the widely esteemed Pilot Mountain, located about 25 miles northwest of Winston-Salem. Our mission was to see for ourselves this place of legend about which stories abound: Was it an extinct volcano? Or Mount Ararat, where Noah and his arc landed? Would we find evidence of Saura Indians or the fearless Daniel Boone 2,400 feet above sea-level?

If nothing else, my husband and I were hoping to walk around the Big Pinnacle, admiring its hard, thick layers of quartzite stone that resisted millennia of erosion while watching over eastern North America as glaciers advanced and retreated, as continents collided and separated. Perhaps we would even catch a glimpse of a common raven, an intelligent, sooty bird known to nest on the Big Pinnacle, or catch sight of a pileated woodpecker and its big, red crest gliding among the chestnut oaks and table mountain pines.

With hopes high, Mark and I pulled into the parking lot and were about to embark on an eye-opening hike down the well-worn Jomeokee Trail. Instead, we barely made it past the edge of the parking lot. Now, there is something I should tell you about me and my husband: we are both prone to recurrent bouts of “dendromania,” an obsession with tree identification that often results in trailside spats about scientific names and bud scales. This illness is considerably more severe than the common “dendrophilia,” symptoms of which include frequent commentary about the beauty of dried American beech leaves trembling in the winter wind and occasional illegal leaf collection.

At Pilot Mountain, this fine Sunday morning, our “dendromania” attack was prompted by a small tree with toothed, bristle-tipped leaves ranging from about three to five inches long. The underside of the leaf was velvety white, the top of the leaf was a rather plain medium green. What was this tree? My heart thumped in my chest. Could it be…perhaps… maybe… a small American chestnut not yet blighted by that invasive fungus? No, no, no, my husband said shaking his head at the sad, deluded child before him (i.e., me), these leaves are too small. Darn, he was right. American chestnut leaves are usually longer than six inches. It was much more likely a chinkapin oak, my husband opined, with the strange elongated leaves common amongst young trees standing in the sun. No way, I practically shouted, drawing uncomfortable stares from a small family making their way to the main attraction, chinkapin oaks don’t have bristle-tips!

We ran around the parking lot, and up Jomeokee Trail a ways, going from tree to tree, examining each leaf. After a while, uncertain and nearly stumped, we almost gave up. We were visiting at a bad time of year, we rationalized, with no flowers, no fruits. No one could identify this, I said contemptuously. And then it struck me. I looked at Mark and he had the wide-eyed look of someone that had been struck as well. Chinkapin, we whispered reverently. It fit: the fuzzy undersides and short length of the leaf, even the woolly twigs and bantam buds.

We had identified our tree. The Allegheny chinkapin (Castanea pumila) is a diminutive tree, or sometimes clumpy shrub, well known for it small, sweet dark brown nuts favored by deer, chipmunks, squirrels and wild turkeys. And although some individuals are affected by the blight that nearly wiped out its congener, the American chestnut, this species is largely resistant to the fungus. We were ecstatic, exhausted.

We hiked around the Big Pinnacle, just to catch our breath. If ravens soared overhead, we missed them. If a piece of Daniel Boone’s buckskin or a Sauran artifact laid in a rocky crevice, we missed that too. We didn’t see Noah’s footprints or give proper veneration to the ancient quartzite mountain, but we did enjoy an extraordinary view of our new home state, and most importantly, together we had valiantly fought through another episode of “dendromania.”

References:
Halls, L. K. 1977. Southern fruit producing wood plants used by wildlife. United States Department of Agriculture, Forest Service General Technical Report SO-16, New Orleans.

Little, E. L. 1980. National Audobon Society Field Guide to North American Trees. Alfred A. Knopf, New York.

Payne, J. A., G. P. Johnson, and G. Miller. 1993. Chinkapin: potential new crop for the south, p. 500-505 In J. Janick and J. E. Simon (eds.), New Crops, Wiley: New York.

Petrides, G. A. 1988. A Field Guide to Eastern Trees. Houghton-Mifflin, New York.

Radford, A. E., H. E. Ahles and C. R. Bell. 1983. Manual of the Vascular Flora of the Carolinas. The University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill.

Stewart, K. G., and Roberson, M. 2007. Exploring the Geology of the Carolinas. The University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill.

Related Websites:
http://www.ncparks.gov/Visit/parks/pimo/main.php
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilot_Mountain_(North_Carolina)
http://plants.usda.gov/java/profile?symbol=CAPU9

Eno River State Park (Few's Ford Access): Birding Trail

Overview: Eno River State Park hosts a number of easy to moderate trails, and a few more difficult ones, for the weekend hiker. If you're looking for an easy hike through a variety of habitats, try the "Birding Trail" (see map below). This trail starts at the Few's Ford parking loop and can easily by completed in 40 minutes. To begin, find the gravel maintenance road at the beginning of the parking lot loop (again, see map below). Continue down the gravel maintenance road until you find an opening in the woods. Continue through the woods, until reaching a clearing for electrical lines. At this clearing, notice a variety of ephemeral wetland pools (often hopping with frogs). Continue to the river and walk along the river until reaching a more heavily traveled trail. This trail will take you back up to the parking area.

Directions: The park is divided into five access points. The "Birding Trail" is found at the Few's Ford access, located just at the northern end of Cole Mill Road (maps & directions here).

Observations & Ponderings: On October 4, 2009, we enjoyed a lackadaisical hike along the birding trail. At the beginning of the hike, walking along a gravel road past full red cedars, we were greeted by the calls of northern mockingbirds, American crows, bluejays and northern cardinals. Before entering the dense canopy of the woods, a yellow shafted flicker zoomed by us.

The forest path offered an additional sign of wildlife: fox scat peppered with persimmon and hair. Soon a wood nymph fluttered by. We walked past some tall pines where we had seen yellow bellied sapsuckers flitting around busily in years past. Soon we came across a large mushroom and striped wintergreen (Chimaphila maculata).

As we left the wooded area, and came to the wetland filled power-line cut, we saw a number of fall flowers in bloom, including thistle, gerardia, an aster and Eupatorium species.

After traversing the power-line cut, we arrived at the slow flowing and shallow Eno River. Yellow-bellied sliders sunned on logs, carp with young hovered in small territories along the river bottom and a large mouth past eased on by.

Our lazy hike not only provided us with a glimpse of the autumnal deceleration of the natural world, but also allowed us to experience it ourselves.

ROADTRIP: Lake Waccamaw State Park (Columbus County, NC)

Overview: Lake Waccamaw State Park is located in Columbus County, about 160 miles from the Triangle. It headlines one of North Carolina’s most unusual natural features: a pH neutral bay lake, named for the abundance of bay trees (e.g., sweet bay and red bay). No one knows for sure how these bay lakes were formed, but hypotheses abound, e.g., they were formed by meteor showers, wind or wave action or underground springs.

Enjoy nearly 9 miles hiking trails at Lake Waccamaw or try your hand at canoeing in the vast 8,936-acre lake.

Directions: Here is the directions & map provided by the North Carolina state park system. Observations & Ponderings: Standing at the edge of an immense, tea-stained bay lake in North Carolina’s coastal plain, I can only wonder at what it must have been like for its first inhabitants: Waccamaw-Souian Indians that canoed these for over 1,000 years. How tall and thick were the looming cypress trees that they saw? Did they see just one alligator or tens or even hundreds each day? Were the large, half-dollar sized land snails even more colorful then?

Lake Waccamaw SP, NC, 31 May 2005 (© Nicolette Cagle)

Hypnotized by the lapping waves, I can hardly pull myself away from the shore. But I do and I begin to walk. At first, each step through the shrubby bay forest elicits a dry crackle that I fear will frighten away the northern parulas I hear buzzing overhead. They don’t seem to mind. Even the vivid green Carolina anoles, hanging onto the smooth bark of a sweetbay magnolia, barely seem to pause as I walk by.

Carolina anole, Lake Waccamaw SP, NC, 31 May 2005 (© Nicolette Cagle)

The Lakeshore Trail winds through the desiccated forest, and finally brings me closer to the shoreline, which I end up walking along for nearly five miles. The delicate, blushing blooms of rose spiderwort (Tradescantia rosea) erupting alongside the narrow footpath can only be a harbinger of good luck. Within minutes, while I’m still lost in the sensation of the warm breeze coming off the lake, I hear rustling in the grass a couple feet ahead – I catch a glimpse of a long black tail: snake! My heart beats faster and I rush ahead, as stealthily as I can manage…yes, yes…the black racer has stopped and is staring me down with its strangely sentient black eyes. I snap as many photos as I can, afraid that this primitive animal will soon slip away...and it does.

Northern black racer, Lake Waccamaw SP, NC, 31 May 2005 (© Nicolette Cagle)

My senses are enlivened now, my snake vision activated. My eyes focus about eight feet ahead, traversing side to side, waiting to catch a glimpse of the next snake. Only minutes later, I spot another rubbery, black crescent ahead where some small trees are growing next to the water. “It has got to be a snake,” I think to myself, but it doesn’t move. “Huh, maybe it’s a piece of shredded tire.” No! It’s another black racer warming itself in the dappled sunlight. I frantically snap more pictures. The hike continues, my search continues. About 4 feet ahead, my eyes converge on a coppery, semi-coiled form in the dry grass. I walk slowly, hunching slightly, stopping to take a picture every couple steps. The pattern of this much maligned ophidian is bewitching: salmon pink mottled with bronze. I get closer, focusing my camera lens on the copper eye and black slit of the pupil. This copperhead is savagely beautiful. I’m mesmerized, tempted to take one step closer. I close my eyes for a second and then, reluctantly, take two steps back and continue on my way.

Southern copperhead, Lake Waccamaw SP, NC, 31 May 2005 (© Nicolette Cagle)

I walk deliberately, always searching, always hopeful. The hunt is addictive. The path widens and is covered with dry brown leaves. A bright sinusoidal shape sharpens into focus. Another copperhead perhaps? This snake is long though and comparatively thin-bodied. I rush ahead – a corn snake! It retracts into an exaggerated S-shape, its upper body is held above the ground revealing a perfect the checkerboard pattern of the belly. Click, click, click, I photograph the snake quickly, the images hardly look real.

Corn snake, Lake Waccamaw SP, NC, 31 May 2005 (© Nicolette Cagle)

By the time I reach the dam and the flooded Waccamaw Creek, and then hike back to my little blue Jeep, I have seen 12 snakes of four different species (northern black racer, southern copperhead, red-bellied watersnake and corn snake). I thank the snake-hunting gods above, greedy for more snakes and wondering what my next adventure will yield.

Eno River State Park (Few's Ford Access): Cox Mountain Trail

Overview: Eno River State Park hosts a number of easy to moderate trails, and a few more difficult ones, for the weekend hiker. If you're looking for a challenging hike in a variety of Piedmont habitats, try the Cox Mountain Trail. This 3.75 mile trail begins at the Few's Ford picnic area and quickly takes you down to the Eno River, where you will cross the suspension bridge. Follow the signs for Cox Mountain trail, and you will begin to ascend Cox Mountain itself (there is a 270 foot elevation change from the river to the top of Cox Mountain). Once you reach the top of the mountain, you will walk along a small creek and then the Eno River, before heading back towards the suspension bridge.

Directions: The park is divided into five access points. The Cox Mountain Trail is found at the Few's Ford access, located just at the northern end of Cole Mill Road (maps & directions here).


Observations & Ponderings: Walking along the Cox Mountain trail in early March offers even the casual observer an addictive taste of the wonders of the natural world. In early spring, some of the most beautiful flowers of the year burst forth from the cold earth, bedecking the brown leaf litter with snowy white, gold and amethystine accents. These spring ephemerals, which seem to disappear before the heat of summer arrives, include trout lilies (Erythronium americanum), spring beauties (Claytonia virginica) and round-lobed hepatica (Hepatica americana).

Round lobed hepatica (Hepatica americana) at Eno River State Park, Cox Mountain trail, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Trout lily (Erythronium americanum) at Eno River State Park, Cox Mountain trail, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

After crossing the suspension bridge that spans the Eno River, and walking along a well-worn path, a brown sign indicates the turn-off for the Cox Mountain trail. Here begins the steep climb to the top of the mountain. The ground is noticably rockier and drier, and fallen trees are strewn across the ridge, toppled by hurricane winds. Even the fauna changes: instead of ground skinks, one might see an eastern fence lizard (Scleroporus undulatus) basking in the harsh sun on this hilltop.

Cox Mountain trail at Eno River State Park, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Eastern fence lizard (Scleroporus undulatus) at Eno River State Park, Cox Mountain trail, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Here, I take a moment to enjoy the stunning views of rolling hills that remind us that we are truly in the Piedmont, the foothills of Appalachia. My mind wanders. What intrepid travelers first saw these same views? Had the Eno indians climbed this same mountain? Did the explorer-naturalist Bartram pass this way? Maybe the Cox family was the first to explore the great hill. Or, perhaps, I am the first to ever see these sights. I would love to re-live that moment, when the first man or woman stood on this ridge. What did they see? How have things changed? Were there more northern red oaks then? Was the soil richer? How many lizards were startled by their arrival? Did they see elk browsing in the distance or maybe a bear snacking on sun-ripened berries?

A snapping twig break the reverie, and I continue down the trail. Here, the trail runs first along a small creek that was recently bifurcated by a fallen tree limb and now trickles down the trail as well. The creek runs into the rocky Eno River and suddenly, the din of calling chorus frogs fills the air.

View of the Eno River along the Cox Mountain trail at Eno River State Park, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle).

Three shallow, ephemeral pools line the trail here, providing breeding habitat for frogs and toads. The evidence of these midnight rendezvous is apparent: gelatinous green frog (Rana clamitans) eggs stuck to twigs beneath the water's surface.

Green frog (Rana clamitans) eggs at Eno River State Park, Cox Mountain trail, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

The trail continues, looping around the base of the mountain, marching pass enchanting painted buckeyes (Aesculus sylvatica), about to burst open, until finally bringing you back to the suspension bridge, back to the lovely spring ephemerals and then back to the concrete world.

Painted buckeye (Aesculus sylvatica) at Eno River State Park, Cox Mountain trail, 8 Mar 2009 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Eno River State Park, Cole Mill Access - Cole Mill Trail (Durham, NC)

Overview: Eno River State Park, a much beloved destination for Durham families, hosts a number of easy to moderate trails for the weekend hiker. If you're looking for an easy hike with spectacular views, try the Cole Mill Trail. This 1.2 mile trail follows the Eno River and then loops to the parking lot through upland forest.

Directions: The park is divided into five access points. The Cole Mill Trail (and the connecting Bobbitt's Hole Trail) is found at the Cole Mill access, located just north of Sparger Road off of Cole Mill Road (maps & directions here).

Observations & Ponderings: Eno River State Park, well-known among the Triangle's many outdoor enthusiasts, never ceases to offer new insight into Piedmont ecology and history. As you walk along the Cole Mill Trail, look across the river to view beautiful laurel covered bluffs.

View from Cole Mill Trail, Eno River SP - Cole Mill Access, February 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

View of laurel covered bluffs from Cole Mill Trail, Eno River SP - Cole Mill Access, February 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

The Cole Mill trail also is home to a number of different tree and shrub species, including the American bladdernut, with its distinctive three-sectioned seed pod. The American bladdernut is a native shrub or small tree reaching up to 12 feet in height that is most often found in bottomlands, along river banks. In mid to late spring, the bladdernut sports tiny, white bell-shaped flowers. This plant, found across eastern North America, is endangered in Florida and threatened in New Hampshire.

Bladdernut (Staphylea trifolia) on the Cole Mill Trail, Eno River SP - Cole Mill Access, February 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

If you plan on exploring the Cole Mill trail with young kids, check out the sycamore stump. What animals could be hiding in there? Also, you can make this hike into a full day activity by continuing on the Bobbitt's Hole trail, which takes you to a popular swimming hole in the Eno River.

American sycamore (Platanus occidentalis) stump on the Cole Mill Trail, Eno River SP - Cole Mill Access, February 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)


Hill covered with American holly (Ilex opaca) on the Cole Mill Trail, Eno River SP - Cole Mill Access, February 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

Raven Rock State Park (Lillington, NC)

Overview: Raven Rock State Park, located south of the Triangle in Lillington, North Carolina, revitalizes one's senses on a cold, winter day with its dramatic scenery. The major attraction, the Raven Rock itself, is easily reached on the Raven Rock loop trail (2.6 miles). The Raven Rock loop trail is an easy hike, until climbing back up the stairs that take one down to the banks of the scenic Cape Fear river.

Directions: Raven Rock State Park is located in Harnett County, west of Lillington. From the intersection of US 1 and US 421, take US 421 south. Turn left onto Raven Rock Road, which will take you straight into the park. More detailed directions can be found here.

Observations & Ponderings: Raven Rock State Park's topographic extremes (high jutting cliffs, hilly uplands and muddy bottomlands) provide abundant habitat for numerous tree species. On this trip, we identified blackjack oak (Quercus marilandica), black oak (Quercus velutina), chestnut oak (Quercus montana), shortleaf pine (Pinus echinata), loblolly pine (Pinus taeda), northern red oak (Quercus rubra), white oak (Quercus alba), water oak (Quercus nigra), American beech (Fagus grandifolia), and dogwood (Cornus florida) in the upland habitats alone.

Black oak (Quercus velutina) at Raven Rock SP, January 11, 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

Black oak (Quercus velutina) bark at Raven Rock SP, January 11, 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

Below the Raven Rock along the Cape Fear River, Raven Rock SP, January 11, 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

For me, this journey to Raven Rock State Park on January 11, 2009, had a much deeper meaning. At nearly 40 weeks pregnant with a baby boy, the spectacular view of the Cape Fear river and valley was particularly poignant. It triggered thoughts about the vastness of earth's history and how the landscape is continually changing at all time scales, macro and micro. This made me consider how my own life was about to change, how I was bringing a new life into the world and that this new baby would see changes that I never would. When I took this hike, I knew that baby Grant would be arriving soon. This hike, in fact, seemed to jump start labor contractions. After 27 hours of labor, baby Grant Joseph Cagle arrived into this ever-changing, awe-inspiring world.

Overlooking the Cape Fear River, Raven Rock SP, January 11, 2009 (© Nicolette Cagle 2009)

ROADTRIP: Morrow Mountain State Park (Albemarle, NC)

Overview: On November 16, 2008, my husband and I were able to take a beautiful autumn hike on Hattaway Mountain in Morrow Mountain State Park. The park is home to numerous trails exploring the ancient Uhwarrie Mountain range, a small natural history museum and the historic homestead of Dr. Francis Kron. For those interested, the home will be open Saturday and Sunday from 11 am to 3 pm for the next three weekends (December 6/7, 13/14 and 20/21). Morrow Mountain State Park is located south of Greensboro, NC in Stanley County. Click here for additional directions.

History, Ecology and Personal Observations: Our journey along the strenuous, 2 mile Hattaway Mountain trail (see park trail map) began on the west side of the park's large swimming pool. The trail wound its way up a gradual incline, through mature woods before reaching the Hattaway Mountain loop. Hattaway Mountain is one of four peaks in Mount Morrow State Park that remind us of the former grandeur of the Uwharrie Mountains, the oldest mountain range in the eastern United States. Although the mountain peaks in the park do not quite attain 1,000 feet in elevation today, the Uwharries once towered some 20,000 feet above sea level and were formed roughly 500 million years ago when the North American and African tectonic plates collided.

View of the Hattaway Mountain Trail, Morrow Mountain State Park, Nov. 16, 2008 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

View from the top of Hattaway Mountain, Morrow Mountain State Park, Nov. 16, 2008 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Post oak (Quercus stellata) leaf on Hattaway Mountain Trail, Morrow Mountain State Park, Nov. 16, 2008 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

The Hattaway Mountain trail hosts some of the park's most beautiful upland forest and scenic autumn vistas. Tree enthusiasts will be greeted by towering chestnut oaks (Quercus prinus) and hickories (Carya spp.), while those looking for a quiet fall or winter hike will be impressed by the sweeping views and relative privacy of this often overlooked trail. While Mark and I hiked this trail, we did not meet anyone else.

Lichen on Hattaway Mountain, Morrow Mountain State Park, Nov. 16, 2008 (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Carolina Beach State Park (New Hanover County, North Carolina)

Overview: On November 9, 2008, my husband and I made a delightful stop at Carolina Beach State Park, a 761-acre park located in Carolina Beach on Pleasure Island in New Hanover County, North Carolina. The park offers a number of recreational opportunities, including boating, fishing, camping and hiking. If you are looking to learn more about coastal ecology stop by the visitor center and then hike along one of the 6 hiking trails available, ranging from 0.25 to 3 miles in length. Here, I describe our hike along the 3-mile Sugarloaf Trail that begins at the marina parking lot.


Directions: To arrive at Carolina Beach State Park from the Triangle, take I-40 east nearly 140 miles until merging with US-117. Continue on US-117 S for approximately 9 miles until bearing left onto NC-132. Continue on Carolina Beach Road (US-421) for 6 miles until making a slight right at N. Dow Road. Then make a right into the park, on Carolina Beach State Park Road. Voila.

History, Ecology and Personal Observations: Carolina Beach State Park was first established in 1969 to preserve its unique carnivorous plant communities and historic Sugarloaf Dune. This area was originally home to the Cape Fear Indians, who left in 1725 as European settlers gained a stronger foothold in the region. By the mid-1700s, the Cape Fear River became a major economic stronghold for the new English colony, providing a shipping route for agricultural products and naval stores. Walking through the quiet park, it was difficult to imagine that this area has been continually abuzz with people and shipping traffic for the past 300+ years.

As we started our hike on the Sugarloaf Trail, proceeding counter-clockwise, we were first impressed by the colorful contrast of verdant longleaf pines against a cloudless cerulean sky. Looking lower into the understory, bright red turkey oak leaves shocked our senses further. The natural beauty of live oaks dangling with dark chestnut-hued acorns and strung with silvery Spanish moss continued to overwhelm our senses.

Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Young longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Live oak (Quercus virginiana) at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Turkey oak (Quercus laevis) at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Walking further, we arrived at the aptly named Grassy Pond. Grassy Pond is ephemeral and filled with sedges (Carex spp.); towards the pond's edge, observant hikers can often find carnivorous plants, including Venus flytraps, pitcher plants, sundews, bladdeworts and butterworts. In November, especially after another spell of dry weather, these fascinating members of the plant family were impossible for us to find.

Grassy Pond at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

We were able to uncover some fascinating signs of local wildlife. White tailed deer and raccoon prints stamped the white sand. A long black racer (Coluber constrictor) sunned itself on the trail before sliding away into the open woods. Yet, the typically seen skinks and crabs were not to be found, as summer's warmth had faded and even the birds seemed eerily quiet.

White tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) tracks at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Towards the end of our journey on the Sugarloaf Trail, we arrived at the historic Sugarloaf Dune. Now fenced and barricaded to prevent further erosion, Sugarloaf Dune had been an important marker for ship navigators since the late 1600s and a camp for nearly 5,000 Confederate soldiers during the 1865 Union siege of Fort Fisher.

Spanish moss (Tillandsia usneoides) near Sugarloaf Dune at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

Our journey at Carolina Beach State Park ended with a shoreline stroll past spongy lichens and short, twisted oaks. We took a moment to stop and watch the passing boats on the historic Cape Fear River, imaging a different era in North Carolina's long history.

Powder puff lichen (Cladonia evansii) near Sugarloaf Dune at Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)

View of the Cape Fear River from Carolina Beach State Park (© Nicolette L. Cagle)