Wednesday, October 6, 2004
|

|
|
Plant of the
Day: Big Bluestem, Andropogon gerardi
Big
bluestem once covered a vast area as the dominant plant species of the tall
grass prairie. This ecosystem contains
some of the most fertile soils in the world; consequently, agriculture has
now replaced most of the native prairie, leaving only small, isolated patches
of tall grass prairie. Big bluestem
was more common in broad valleys and on lower slopes, where soils are more moist—sites also preferred for corn production. Historically fire was an integral part of
the tall grass prairie, ignited by lightning strikes before humans settled North
America, and later by native peoples who used fire to drive game
and stimulate grass growth. The
relatively cool surface fires that burned through on a regular basis recycled
nutrients held in the leaves and stems that died back at the end of each
growing reason, leaving the roots and underground shoots unharmed. Big bluestem is a stately grass, with some
plants reaching to a height of 12’ by the end of the summer! Heights from 4-9’ are more common,
however. It blooms in late summer, and
its unusual flower shape has earned it the name “turkey claw”. Members of the sunflower and pea families
accompany big bluestem as important plants of the tall grass prairie.
|
After we
crossed the Missouri River at Omaha,
Nebraska, we could see the prominent loess
bluffs that run along the western border of Iowa
along the river. The bluffs, which reach
200’ above the surrounding floodplain in some places, are composed of silt, or
fine sediment the texture of flour.
During the Pleistocene Epoch (a.k.a. the Ice Age), glaciers formed in
high latitudes and advanced southward to the middle of North America, scraping
sediment from the terrain the ice overrode, like a giant bulldozer. There were a number of glacial periods when
conditions were colder than today; these were separated by warmer interglacial
periods, when conditions were probably similar to those of today. When the last glaciers eventually receded, a
tremendous amount of water and sediment were flushed away from the melting ice
and deposited in the Missouri River valley. The prevailing westerly winds picked up the
silt once it dried, transporting it eastward in large clouds of dust. The silt was deposited east of the river
valley. This occurred repeatedly over
thousands of years, until impressive bluffs were formed. Erosion has cut into the bluffs, leaving
rugged topography that is home to many rare plants and animals.
Iowa
lies between the Missouri River on the west and the Mississippi
River on the east; and, consequently, lies in the path of
migration for many North American bird species.
By migrating seasonally, many birds escape the harsh conditions of
winter but are able to use rich food supplies that are only available for part
of the year. Therefore, many species
breed at high latitudes in temperate and arctic areas where insects are
abundant in the summer, then fly south to warmer climates for the winter. Most species in North America
move in a north-south direction along one of four major flyways: the Pacific, Central, Mississippi,
and Atlantic. The
valleys of the Mississippi River and its tributaries
constitute a convenient migration corridor with plentiful food and many
stopping points for rest during the long journey. As we passed through Iowa
today, we detected many migrant birds heading south for the winter.
In several
places as we biked across the central part of Iowa,
we saw small wetlands known as “prairie potholes”. These are remnants of a time, over 12,000
years ago, when massive sheets of ice extended down across the central part of Iowa. As the ice melted back after the last glacial
advance, huge blocks of ice became separated from the main part of the
glacier. Meltwater
from the glacier carried debris picked up by the ice as it bulldozed its way
southward; this sediment filled in around the ice blocks, forming depressions
when the ice blocks eventually melted.
These small potholes, or wetlands, dot the landscape of central Iowa,
north through Minnesota, the Dakotas,
and across the prairie provinces
of Canada. They serve as important wetland habitat for
wildlife, particularly waterfowl during spring and fall bird migrations.
We also
biked through more hilly terrain in central Iowa
as we encountered the end moraines left behind after the last glacial
period. Moraines are linear hills that
are constructed by a melting glacier.
The ice within a glacier is constantly eroding the landscape, pushing forward,
and transporting sediment. When the rate
of ice meltback matches the internal forward movement
of the ice, the ice dumps sediment in one place like a giant conveyor belt, as
the terminus remains in one place for a long period. Moraines mark the history of meltback of different lobes of a glacier; the moraines in
central Iowa were constructed
during recession of the Des Moines
lobe.
Just north
of McGregor, Iowa,
which we passed through west of the Mississippi River,
lies Spooks Cave. The cave is hidden below a 90’ limestone
bluff. Most caves occur in limestone,
because this type of bedrock readily dissolves when water combines with carbon
dioxide to form carbonic acid. The
landscape where solution is the dominant geomorphic process is known as “karst topography”, after the region in Yugoslavia
where it was first studied. Spooks
Cave wasn’t discovered until the
mid-1900s when Gerald Mielke heard strange noises
coming from the base of the bluff. He
blasted through the rock, only to find an underground stream that had formed
the cave. The mysterious noises
disappeared once the entrance to the cave was opened, some say because Mielke had released the spirits, for which the cave was
named. Others offer the more scientific
explanation that changes in water levels once the cave was opened reduced the
roaring noises the water made moving through narrow passages.

At Prairie
du Chien, we crossed the Mississippi River
into Wisconsin. From there to just east of Spring Green, we
rode along the Wisconsin River Valley. The river has carved a magnificent valley
through what is known as the “Driftless Area” of Wisconsin. During the winter months, bald eagles
congregate in the lower Wisconsin River valley, where
there is an abundance of fish, their preferred food. Last winter, biologists counted over 600
eagles in the 180-mile stretch of river extending up from the confluence of the
Wisconsin and Mississippi
Rivers at Prairie du Chien!
Most of the
northern U.S.
and Canada were
covered by ice during the Pleistocene Epoch, and the landscape we see in those
areas today is a result of the ice completely altering the preglacial
landscape. The southwestern corner of Wisconsin,
however, is a small area that was not covered by ice during the last glacial
period. While the ice smoothed out the
surrounding area, beveling down areas of rugged relief and filling valleys with
sediment transported by the ice, meltwater, and wind,
the Driftless Area escaped this dramatic topographic
alteration. The modern landscape is much
more dissected than adjacent areas, with steep ravines, deeply cut stream
valleys, and large areas of exposed bedrock.
Caves and sinkholes are common in parts of the Driftless
Area underlain by limestone. When
Europeans first settled this area, the ridge tops supported tall grass prairie
and bur oak savannas, and forests dominated by sugar maple and basswood
occurred on moister slopes and in valleys.
Because of the topographic diversity, a number of rare plants and
animals are found only in the Driftless Area.