IBWO's: Brian Carlisle, Christopher Carlisle.
SUMMARY: Bienville National Forest, in central Mississippi, rivals in size its mighty sibling the DeSoto further to the south. I have not had much experience with Bienville, aside from passing through it from time to time: it is rather remote, lying more or less between Jackson and Meridian, mostly to the south of Interstate 20. (Ain't much up that way.) However, I have grown curious of late about the southeastern corner of Bienville, where lies the Tallahala Wildlife Management Area. There the Tallahala and other creeks flow southward, eventually joining the Leaf River. Tallahala Creek is, from what I have been able to survey from various bridges in the area, a typically rugged Southern waterway, often flooding its banks during the cooler months, and catching my attention with views of tall sycamores, cypress, spruce pine, and hardwoods. I have often imagined Ivorybills using the myriad creeks and rivers of the South as highways connecting larger tracts of suitable habitat. The problem in investigating the viability of this scenario is usually one of access. Many of this area's waterways, such as the Chickasawhay, are almost completely hemmed in by private land, making access to the riparian habitat all but impossible. I was drawn to the Tallahala WMA section of Bienville because it is on public land; further, a quick survey of Google Earth showed it to be almost completely forested, with little or no human activity such as farming or timber harvesting within its bounds. There are to my knowledge no records of Ivorybills in the Bienville, though it falls within the species' greater historical range. Nevertheless, I felt it important to investigate for the reasons outlined above.
Brian and I got, for us, a late start (7:30). Travelling north on Mississippi Highway 15, we drove first to Bay Springs, then to the progressively smaller enclaves of Louin and Montrose before turning west into Bienville. Immediately we encountered a vast pine plantation, much of which was very young, interspersed by small creeks shrouded occasionally by groves of hardwoods. Further into Bienville, in the Tallahala WMA itself, rose impressive stands of shortleaf/loblolly pine, dominating the landscape there much as its graceful cousin, the longleaf, does in the DeSoto. I was disheartened by the monoculture, but we drove on, until we found a forest road barred to vehicle traffic that led southward, between two creeks.
It was already hot and humid when we began, but the going was easy. There are no banana spiders in that area of Bienville. I almost missed them. The forest understory there is, I pleasantly found, dominated by white oaks, their pale boles contrasting nicely with the darker trunks of the pines. Some of the latter bore sign of long-ago fire. Good numbers of post oak and water oak grow there, too, along with hickory, sweet gum, and dogwood. Some water oaks were of sufficient girth to catch our attention, but most (if not all) of the hardwoods were less than fifty years old, most of them much younger.
We saw almost no wildlife, save wild turkeys. We saw two on the trail itself, and two on the highway leading into the WMA. We came across their tracks and several of their distinctive feathers on the trail, and many other feathers besides, including several from what must have been a hawk, or possibly an owl. An eastern wood pewee was the only other bird we took note of, and the rest of the birds were quiet, save for the far-off laughter of pileateds. Due to the prevalence of white oak, which produces large acorns, the area must fairly abound with game animals.
We finally turned around when it became apparent that the road led to nowhere in particular, and the heat was beginning to get to be a bit much. The hike there and back to the truck was probably around 4-5 miles. We drove back to Laurel, and had roast beef sandwiches at Jitters Coffee House, courtesy of the lovely barista with red hair and green eyes.
SUMMARY: Bienville National Forest, in central Mississippi, rivals in size its mighty sibling the DeSoto further to the south. I have not had much experience with Bienville, aside from passing through it from time to time: it is rather remote, lying more or less between Jackson and Meridian, mostly to the south of Interstate 20. (Ain't much up that way.) However, I have grown curious of late about the southeastern corner of Bienville, where lies the Tallahala Wildlife Management Area. There the Tallahala and other creeks flow southward, eventually joining the Leaf River. Tallahala Creek is, from what I have been able to survey from various bridges in the area, a typically rugged Southern waterway, often flooding its banks during the cooler months, and catching my attention with views of tall sycamores, cypress, spruce pine, and hardwoods. I have often imagined Ivorybills using the myriad creeks and rivers of the South as highways connecting larger tracts of suitable habitat. The problem in investigating the viability of this scenario is usually one of access. Many of this area's waterways, such as the Chickasawhay, are almost completely hemmed in by private land, making access to the riparian habitat all but impossible. I was drawn to the Tallahala WMA section of Bienville because it is on public land; further, a quick survey of Google Earth showed it to be almost completely forested, with little or no human activity such as farming or timber harvesting within its bounds. There are to my knowledge no records of Ivorybills in the Bienville, though it falls within the species' greater historical range. Nevertheless, I felt it important to investigate for the reasons outlined above.
Brian and I got, for us, a late start (7:30). Travelling north on Mississippi Highway 15, we drove first to Bay Springs, then to the progressively smaller enclaves of Louin and Montrose before turning west into Bienville. Immediately we encountered a vast pine plantation, much of which was very young, interspersed by small creeks shrouded occasionally by groves of hardwoods. Further into Bienville, in the Tallahala WMA itself, rose impressive stands of shortleaf/loblolly pine, dominating the landscape there much as its graceful cousin, the longleaf, does in the DeSoto. I was disheartened by the monoculture, but we drove on, until we found a forest road barred to vehicle traffic that led southward, between two creeks.
It was already hot and humid when we began, but the going was easy. There are no banana spiders in that area of Bienville. I almost missed them. The forest understory there is, I pleasantly found, dominated by white oaks, their pale boles contrasting nicely with the darker trunks of the pines. Some of the latter bore sign of long-ago fire. Good numbers of post oak and water oak grow there, too, along with hickory, sweet gum, and dogwood. Some water oaks were of sufficient girth to catch our attention, but most (if not all) of the hardwoods were less than fifty years old, most of them much younger.
We saw almost no wildlife, save wild turkeys. We saw two on the trail itself, and two on the highway leading into the WMA. We came across their tracks and several of their distinctive feathers on the trail, and many other feathers besides, including several from what must have been a hawk, or possibly an owl. An eastern wood pewee was the only other bird we took note of, and the rest of the birds were quiet, save for the far-off laughter of pileateds. Due to the prevalence of white oak, which produces large acorns, the area must fairly abound with game animals.
We finally turned around when it became apparent that the road led to nowhere in particular, and the heat was beginning to get to be a bit much. The hike there and back to the truck was probably around 4-5 miles. We drove back to Laurel, and had roast beef sandwiches at Jitters Coffee House, courtesy of the lovely barista with red hair and green eyes.
Typcial scene in our area of the Tallahala WMA.
Brian spotted this, probably Pileated work, in a grove of small dead oaks.
White oak (Quercus alba), just right of center. One of my favorite trees.
Brian spotted these two cavities high up in a living white oak. Possibly pileated work, though they seemed a smidge too small.
One of several turkey feathers we found on the road.
A sure sign that the Southern autumn is near: goldenrod in flower.
Great hunter, yes? Yes.
For my vanity staff.
CONCLUSIONS: Having found no sign there even remotely suggestive of Ivorybills, I have satisfied my curiousity about the Tallahala WMA, and about Bienville National Forest. I do not believe the habitat there currently supports Ivorybills, though it may become better suited to do so if allowed to mature in the decades to come. I will turn my attention back southward, to the Pascagoula River and its more immediate tributaries.
Next week: Black Creek Wilderness. Forecast: Rain.
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