Witt’s End

It's Not About Stories People Tell, It's About …

As every seasoned birder knows, you should always be prepared for anything and everything when you’re out on the trail. Basics kit, like binoculars and camera, along with a notebook and pen, should be second (or first) nature. A couple days ago I was not prepared; no binoculars, no camera, nothing, when I had an up-close and personal encounter with an American Bald Eagle—sort of.

Here’s what happened: I was out taking my daily health walk on the nearby hike and bike trail. I was on the home stretch, thinking about a cup of tea since it was 24 degrees and windy, when about 50 yards ahead of me I saw a bald eagle coming straight for me. The bird was flying at eye level, pumping like crazy, trying to get some altitude. Gorgeous white head, black body and wings—the symbol of America coming right to me!

I froze in place, the “flight or fight” messages passed through my brain, sending mixed signals to my thinning blood. All I could manage in the thought category was, “I hope this critter knows what she’s doing and gets a bit higher.”

The bird was about 25 feet away when it suddenly banked right. I was going to yell, “chicken” when I realized it was not a bald eagle. It was a basic American Crow carrying a sandwich-size piece of white bread.

The English translation of that is, “White Head Light,” however, since this was taken on the Gaspe Peninsula in Quebec, Canada, this summer, I’ll stick with the French spelling. The lighthouse overlooks the oft-photographed Rocher Perce (Pierced Rock) and Ile Bonaventure (Bonaventure Island). The island is a nesting ground for thousands of seabirds, including a colony of an estimated 80,000 Northern Gannets. (More on our visit to the colony, later.) The original light at this spot started in 1873. New lamps, improvements and replacements happened and this current structure emerged in 1915. It stands 24 feet high, stubby by most lighthouse standards, however, seated at the edge of a cliff hundreds of feet to the ocean, it projected its light 15 miles out, warning sailors of danger along the shore. Its light has been quenched, however, the memories live on.

As luck will have it, I’ve been so busy of late I haven’t had time to do anything. (Thanks for the kind words, Yogi.) I finally got around to sorting through the last of the images from the recent western trip Susan and I completed in October. One of our planned stops was the Black Canyon of the Gunnison in western Colorado. This national park is not as well known, nor heavily visited, as others in the National Park System line up, however, it is not to be missed. We were there on a gorgeous fall day and spent our time exploring the entire length of this dynamic spot, watching the sun and shadows create pictures with every turn.

About half the area (16,000 acres) are designated as wilderness, and virtually in accessible. The canyon gets its name from the fact that parts of the river receive only (on average) 33 minutes of sunlight per day. Talk about a short growing season. At its steepest point, the canyon is only about 40 feet wide at the river.

I tend not to choose a favorite spot when surround by places like the Black Canyon, so I’ll show a couple images from a spot that was as close to breathtaking as these things can get. It’s called the Painted Wall, considered the tallest wall in the canyon at 2,250 feet (yeah, about a half mile). The rocks here are about 500 million years old (give or take), mostly metamorphic and igneous. The Painted Wall has intrusions of pegmatite that look as if a giant splashed paint on a black canvas.

Not to be missed.

One of the joys of travel is that sometimes you’re in the right spot at the right time. Too often you’re not—as in, “ya shoulda been here yesterday.” Well, for Susan and I, along with our friends Bobb and Kathy Barnes, on Indigenous People’s Day this past October, we were spot on. Santa Fe, New Mexico, hosted its second annual tribal nations Powwow. Twenty-three tribes, Nations and Pueblos in New Mexico were present. The Plaza area was filled with music, dancing and native crafts. The sights and sounds were overwhelming as dancers and drummers entertained for hours. Surrounding the Plaza area, tables of native crafts and foods were displayed. The costumes of the dancers, some ranging in cost of more than three thousand dollars were the highlight for thousands of people gathered for the celebration. And while it might seem like this was a glimpse into the past, it’s real every day life for Indigenous People in this country.

If you haven’t visited Echo Bluff State Park in Shannon County, Missouri, in the Ozarks, I suggest you add it to your travel itinerary. Sure, it’s out of the way, located on Highway 19 with enough twists and turns to make you seasick, however, it’s worth the effort.

It’s very much a modern-day resort, 476 acres with all the amenities. For Susan, however, it was a step back in time. This state park began its life as a summer camp for kids back in 1929. Right, almost 100 years ago. Back then it was known as Camp Zoe. She and her sisters attended the camp more than 70 years ago. I’ve listened to stories about the camp for nearly a quarter century and was excited to finally get a look.

Naturally, a lot has changed in the past 70-plus years so our days were spent hiking the grounds looking at old, some might call, derelict buildings and sites where now only ghosts and memories linger. Places where kids swam and rivers where they canoed have changed, somewhat. But the stream, Sinking Creek, and the bluff that protects it are still in place. A new lodge has replaced cabins and tents, cement has replaced gravel.

If you’re quiet, you can stand by the edge of the creek and hear conversations from far away echoing off the curved bluff. Maybe even conversations from 70 years ago.

Congress created Cuyahoga Valley National Park on December 27, 1974, by passing Public Law 93-555. That moment capped off decades of people treasuring the valley for outdoor recreation and working for its protection. By 1974, some parts had already become parkland. Other locations were in private ownership. Many places showed the scars of heavy land use. In the 50 years since park establishment, people have worked hard to renew our natural and cultural resources. The valley has been transformed into a vibrant, healthier landscape enjoyed by millions each year.

In honor of our 50th anniversary year in 2025, Cuyahoga Valley National Park is highlighting 50 key events that help define who and what we are. They showcase the many partners that have come together to preserve open space, create opportunities for recreation, clean up pollution, restore habitats, and save historic resources. These moments demonstrate the power that people have when we work together for the wellbeing of current and future generations.

Most of the events focus on the big things in the park; miles of trails, iconic bridges–old and new, and diversity of animals. I opted to take a closer look at some of the small things the park has to offer.