Urban Wilderness: The year in review

This year's stories from the urban wilderness came from near and far. Some were as close to home as the Menomonee River, which runs near my house, and some as far away as I've ever been: Australia and New Zealand. Some celebrate restoration successes and community efforts, while others reflect on controversial issues.

The first story of the year was a hold-over from 2014 when I was artist in residence in Milwaukee's Menomonee Valley. Ruby and the Tree: Growing with 3 Bridges Park is a lovely metaphor for what's going right in the Valley.

The Menomonee River itself bookends the year. Early on preparations began for the Last stretch of concrete to be removed from the Menomonee River, near Wisconsin Avenue where the river passes by Piggsville. I returned to the Menomonee in December, this time upstream in Hoyt Park where a series of sewer crossings that had been damming the river were being removed: Menomonee River restoration.

In February I left town to visit a favorite haunt not too far away in Illinois: Art, Artifice and Nature at Starved Rock State Park. A very popular park that receives four million visitors a year, the two primary attractions in winter are ice climbing and eagle watching.

In March controversy erupted over a beloved patch of trees on Milwaukee's East Side: Walker targets UWM's Downer Woods. Why?  

Also in March the Mandel Group began construction on their Echelon Apartments at Innovation Park on the County Grounds in Wauwatosa. I began a series of updates showing construction progress. By the end of the year it also became clear that the battle to preserve all four of the historic Eschweiler buildings was lost. Three updates:
Construction update on County Grounds.
The Milwaukee County Grounds: A visual meditation.
Eschweilers come down as Echelons rise.

Just east of Innovation Park, still on the County Grounds, still in March, a long-awaited upgrade to the power plant serving the Regional Medical Complex got underway: Between Park and Power Plant: 10 acres in Tosa.

Across the county, on the lakefront in Cudahy, more controversy played over the better part of the year. I visited Warnimont Park in April and posted this: Milwaukee County parkland threatened by gun club’s plan for shooting range. Good judgment prevailed. By the end of the year the gun club was asked to relocate somewhere outside of the park.

A short excursion in April took me to one of Wisconsin's premier wildlife refuges: Horicon Marsh: A poetic and photographic odyssey. I caught a controlled burn in progress, along with additional shots of burned-over areas. Fascinating! Who knew a marsh would burn?

I spent a lot of time along the Kinnickinnic River this year, thanks to the MMSD. I posted two photo essays about it:

Earth Day: A community cleans up the KK.

The Kinnickinnic River and community development: A makeover. 

In May and June I followed Greg Septon to five nesting sites around the Milwaukee area as he banded fledgling falcons. One of my favorite stories of the year: Milwaukee's peregrine falcons get a helping hand.

The biggest controversy of the year happened over Independence day weekend. The state legislature, trying to take advantage of the distraction, tried to insert new powers to the Milwaukee County executive regarding O'Donnell Park: O'Donnell power play generates legislative fireworks.

In August I took a hike, not usually a newsworthy event. But this one began at 3:30 a.m. and introduced me to Brew City Safaris, a very worthy effort to get people out for hikes in the city: An urban hike along Milwaukee's Lakefront.

Yet more controversy stirred in September as a group calling itself Citizens Acting for Rail Safety staged a Rally on river to protest oil trains. The trains carrying explosive crude oil pass through downtown Milwaukee, crossing the Menomonee River at the point where it meets the Milwaukee River.

Also in September I finally published a story that had been years stewing in my consciousness:
Could Milwaukee be a "green" destination? I believe Milwaukee deserves to be known as a eco-friendly city, on a par with Portland, OR. I consider this to be one of the most important stories I've ever published.

In October I traveled to Australia and New Zealand. Although I hope there will be more to come (from Australia), I managed to post three stories, all about New Zealand:
Dispatch from New Zealand: Muriwai Beach.
One Tree Hill, Auckland, NZ.
Rangitoto Island: The resilience of nature.

The year ended with a bang, almost literally. On a very stormy December morning I happened to drive along Lincoln Memorial Dr. where I discovered High seas on Milwaukee's lakefront. It became a very popular post.

 Happy New Year from the Urban Wilderness!

One Tree Hill, Auckland, New Zealand

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Its Maori name is Maungakiekie, the mountain of the kiekie vine. I didn’t notice any vines growing there. In fact, what struck me at first was the nearly complete lack of vegetation other than the closely cropped grass even on its steepest slopes. The reason for this was just as obvious. Sheep dotted the grass throughout the park, widely dispersed in some areas, clumped into small herds in others.

I’m trying to recall ever seeing a similar scene in an urban park. But I can’t.

There are trees in the park, but the native one (pōhutukawa, in Maori) that gave the hill its English name is long gone, victim of an act of vandalism by a white settler in 1852. Most of the non-native pines planted to replace it didn’t survive. Maori activists attacked the last remaining pine with chainsaws in 2000 as a protest against perceived injustices by the government. So, One Tree Hill bears no tree.

With only two days to see as much of Auckland as possible, we drove most of the way up to the summit. With more time and better weather I would have enjoyed the hike. We walked the last quarter mile in a light drizzle, sheep ambling out of our way as we approached. The cloud cover hung little higher than the summit itself when we reached it, which, along with the rain, limited the 360° panoramic views of the city and its two harbors.

One Tree Hill Domain, as the park is officially known, is one of a pair of conjoined parks (Cornwall Park is the other) that are situated near the center of the Auckland metropolitan region and the isthmus on which it’s located. Despite the inclement weather we were among quite a throng on the summit. In fact, there were many people throughout the large twin park landscape. I imagine it’s very crowded on beautiful days.

One Tree Hill is the remnant of an ancient volcano, one of 48 in the Auckland Volcanic Field. As we walked back down we noted the popular fad of using loose lava rock as movable graffiti down among the soft contours of the long-dormant crater. Without a few tiny sheep at the bottom it would be difficult to appreciate the size of the rocks or the scale of the mountain. Though far from a wilderness, One Tree Hill is a highly satisfying urban park experience.

This post is the second in a series from Australia and New Zealand. To go to the first, click on Muriwai Beach.

To see more photos from Australia and New Zealand, go to my flickr album. 

Dispatch from New Zealand: Muriwai Beach

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We’d been traveling in exotic places for so long, in two different countries and in several time zones, that the days of the week blurred together. But it was easy to tell that today was Friday. As it is with many a large city, the weekend traffic at 4:30 pm clogged the freeway leading out of town. As Auckland, New Zealand’s largest city, sits on an isthmus, the single route leading out into the countryside was predictably jammed.

An hour later, however, we were cruising along curving ridge top roads through a pastoral, peaceful countryside dotted with sheep and dairy farms. Finally, as we drew nearer the coast the road dropped into a luxuriant pine forest. Graeme, our host and guide, explained that the forest was a recent development. A hundred years ago the hilly landscape had been nothing but sand held in place by sand-tolerant dune grasses. A government program of progressive vegetation had proceeded gradually from nitrogen-fixing shrubs to today’s climax forest.

The forest provides a wide variety of recreational opportunities as well as lumber for harvest. We passed trailheads for hiking and mountain biking and a gated off-road vehicle course. But the vast majority of weekenders, like us, pass through miles of forest in order to access the beach.

Barefoot, we stroll through the last seaward stand of stunted, salt-bleached trees. Twin dunes loom above us. They must be at least 30-40 ft. high. We stand aside as a motorbike buzzes through the soft sand and away onto the beach. It disappears before we get there. There is no one else around.

Dark, volcanic sand and pounding surf stretches away as far as we can see and vanishes in brilliant, foaming mist. Amazingly, as close as it is to Auckland, Muriwai boasts 50 km (over 31 miles) of unbroken, undeveloped beach along with protective dunes and forested lands. Graeme tells us that recently the government ceded control of these public lands to the indigenous Maori people. I marvel at this, trying to imagine the U.S. government giving back to Native Americans, say, for instance, North Carolina’s outer banks or Cape Cod National Seashore.

We dip our feet in the crashing Tasman Sea, which reaches Australia over 2,100 km away. Very cold. (Much like Lake Michigan.)

The beach is popular for surfing, fishing, dirt-biking (as we noticed), horseback riding, and bird-watching. There is a notable gannet colony at its southern end, too far for us to reach today. Swimming is discouraged, however, due to dangerous rip currents.

No worries. Wandering, sinking our toes in the soft, black sand, soaking up the warm southern hemisphere springtime sun, and basking in the stiff onshore breeze are sufficient to fill us with contentment. 

Lynn and I spent almost 2 weeks in Australia and New Zealand. This is the first of a series of dispatches and photo essays from our trip. 

To see more photos from Australia and New Zealand, go to my flickr album.