100 lbs. of sunflower, les pedeza & milletseed sewn at woods' edge = late winterfood for our wildlife80 twelve~inch fir trees planted in Middletown &Odessa by 45 students = shade, camouflage,beauty + prevention of greenhouse effectEarth Day T~shirt sale =$1,000 donated to50 students + 500 periwinkles & 50 hyacinths The Natureplanted on the slopes behind the student center Conservancy Internationaland Amos Hall = a lovely spring bloom12
The Bear HuntBY CONOR O'DWYER '90We gathered in the cold parking lot ofthe Great Smokey Mountain NationalPark's biological research station, theTremont Institute, in the early morning,waiting to meet the man who was to guideus in tracking a wild black bear. The prospect oftrekking through miles of underbrush in pursuit ofbear, dispelled the heavy languor that had settledover us the day before on our twelve-hour bus tripdown to Tennessee. Blinking uncertainly in thesun, we represented the newly resurrected <strong>St</strong>.<strong>Andrew's</strong> <strong>School</strong> Outing Club; over spring breakwe planned to hike and camp along the AppalachianTrail under the leadership of the new<strong>School</strong> biology teacher, Mr. Peter McLean, and theindomitable van Buchems. But first, there was theinitiation, the baptism in fire, bear tracking.When our guide, Frank, a graduate student atthe University of Tennessee, emerged from the researchstation, he carried with him what lookedlike a portable television antenna (it seemed just asungainly), a box with dials and headphones slungover his shoulder, a full sized pack, yards of,rightly colored rope, and a bow. These provisionsimpressed on me the enormity of ourundertaking. With Frank's explanations, my awedisappeared: the bear wore a radio collar whichour receiver could pinpoint, the pack containedtagging equipment, and the bow was our onlyhope if the bear had holed up in a tree-we couldshoot the rope up and so climb the tree. As I surveyedFrank's arsenal of tracking technology, Icouldn'l help thinking to myself that this bearhadn't a chance.We clambered along the trail, which twisted upthe mountain along numerous ridges, over smallmountain streams, gaining altitude gradually,never escaping the dull roar of the swift, foamyMiddle Prong River in the valley. By midday, wehad gained the summit and paused for a lunchbreak and photo session, before leaving the trail tocontinue through the underbrush. Off the trail, inthe rhododendron jungles, through slippery descentsand exhausting climbs, in the heat of therapidly warming day, we had our first taste of thewilderness, of cultural deprivation, of isolationfrom the civilized world. As we wound our wayup and down ravines, we forgot our earlier resolveto walk quietly. I lost faith in our technologicalsuperiority; anyway, if we did locate bear, I'hought, the sound of us crashing through the.eaves and brambles would alert her from milesaway. The steep ravine walls scattered the radiocollar beeps, leaving Frank unsure about whatdirection they were coming from. I reflected cynicallyon my earlier naivete in thinking this trackingas almost too easy.Despite the growing fear that the bear had outsmartedus, we bore up well. There weremoments that vindicated the helplessness we feltabout chasing blindly through the mountains; atone point we came to a beautiful, cold stream inthe middle of a hot thicket of rhododendron. Atthat stream, we refilled our water bottles, dunkedour heads, took some pictures, set down our packs,and poured a grateful libation to the nymph of thestream. Mr. van Buchem drank directly from thestream in his eagerness, forgetting the threat ofgerardia; we laughingly told him to await results.By the late afternoon, everyone wanted out.Frank resigned himself to leading us back, butcontinued half-hopefully to listen to the beeps ofhis antenna. A cry from Frank a little later,brought us running over to him. At his feet lay thebroken radio collar-the bear had tom it off. Afterthe initial wave of disappointment, I felt somethingakin to triumph. The day had not been atotal waste after all. In the midst of this sprawlingwilderness, we had located a small collar. Ithougbt to myself that perhaps we could havefound our bear after all, if fate hadn't been againstus. With this bear tracking experience behind us,we were ready to face thirty miles of hiking andcamping on the Appalachian Trail; at least there,we wouldn't be up against bears.DThe "Bear Trackers" left toright: Jill Harrison '90.Emily Balentine '90, KateCrowley' 91. Andy Varga.91, Peter McLean, AndrewDennis '90 (in tree), JoshBruckner '93, Marijke vanBuchem (kneeling), Evertvan Buchem (behind tree),Greg Rhodes '90, Conor0'Dwyer '90 and JamesWiley '91.13
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