Volume 9 Issue 1 (Fall 2015)
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as
sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the
storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.
~John Muir

Welcome Back!
I find it hard to believe that this is the 9th year of The Hemlock. Each semester, as I start
to collect articles I fear that I may have gone to my various wells too many times and
that my colleagues will start hiding when they see me coming. Yet each issue magically
comes together with a variety of interesting, well-written articles that require little
editing from me. It’s been one of the pleasures of my academic career to help provide
an opportunity to gather these writers together around our common interests—
protecting the environment, enjoying outdoor recreation, and celebrating the culture of
central Pennsylvania. If any of you would like to contribute something to the Spring
Hemlock (published in April), please email me (rmyers3@lhup.edu). ~Bob Myers
Nature Trail 2.0
If you’ve recently walked the campus Nature Trail that begins at Robinson Building, you
may have noticed the improvements that have been made since last winter. In April a
group of faculty, staff, and students began a reroute of the trail to avoid the garbage trailer
that sits on old Lusk Run Road. We also moved the hemlocks that the Environmental Focus
Group had planted in front of Russell to the Naturalist Cabin site, and one of those trees
was dedicated to retiring Professor Lenny Long. This September another group of
volunteers completed work on the reroute. If you haven’t walked the 1.5 mile trail, we
encourage you to try it—autumn is a particularly good season to appreciate its beauty.
Environmental and Sustainability Studies at LHU
The Environmental Studies minor continues to thrive: since Fall 2010, 113 students have
applied, 46 have graduated with the minor, and 41 are currently active in the program.
Meanwhile, the new Sustainability Studies Associates degree at the Clearfield Campus has
attracted its first major. For more information see our website:
http://www.lhup.edu/colleges/natural_behavioral_health/environmental/

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 2

Apples and Doughnuts
~John Reid (LHU Physics Professor)
Every season has its rewards. Around September, when it’s clear fall is on the way, my
wife and I start looking forward to a drive over to Lavonia for apples. The place we go
to is Macneal’s. We came across it one day while riding around enjoying the foliage on
a crisp sunny Sunday in October. We pulled in on a whim and have gone back every
year since, usually two or three times during September and October.
Lavonia is hard to find and easy to miss. Macneal’s has a small sign on the side of the
road right before you come to their little wood building. It’s a modest dark brown
structure with a small cupola on top. There’s a large chalkboard on the outside wall
by the entrance that lists what is currently available. As you walk through the wide
entrance you find piles of crates loaded with, of course, apples. Off to the side is an
apple polishing machine. If it’s chilly outside then it’s chilly inside here – as it should
be for such a place. Ben Macneal is the proprietor. A low key sort. We quickly got the
sense of a man that is quietly caring and proud of his domain.
If there were such a creature as a hard-sell
apple salesman, then Ben is the opposite of
this. He’ll politely invite you to sample any
and all of the varieties available. We never
knew there were so many. Some are common
to us (Macintosh, Cortland, Gala, Winesap),
but it has been fun to discover more (Primo,
Sir Prize, Red Spy, Tydeman Red). Sampling
is sort of like wine tasting. As we try each
one, Ben tries to describe the flavor, and
explains the subtleties of this year’s crop. We
taste and nod as if we understand, and we think we do. “Yes, yes, I see. A mellow hint
of flower with a wisp of honey, soft in its approach with an understated finish”. After
deciding what we want, factoring in plans for pies, we usually get a peck’s worth of a
mix. Ben carefully loads up the bag, while we decide on cider and syrup. There is no
better cider than fresh cider in the fall and no better time to drink it. If he has it we get
it. We also make sure to keep their syrup in stock all year. Before leaving we grab one
of their schedules. It gives a rough idea of what apples will be available when. We then
form loose plans for coming back over.
Second to our main goal of just getting out for a ride, going to Macneal’s was often our
only stated objective. Then we heard about Nan’s doughnuts. One day a friend of mine
was tasked with bringing doughnuts to a community clean up with Clinton County
CleansScapes. He proudly took on this task and shunned the idea of using a major
chain. He brought us doughnuts from “the doughnut lady” in Eastville. The

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 3

doughnuts were delicious, of course, and my wife and I decided to find this place. My
friend told us she has a sign out front. It didn’t take long to find a house with a small
but easy-to-read handwritten sign; “Fresh Doughnuts, Open on Saturdays.” You enter
a home with a large kitchen area. A long table is before you, covered with boxes and
boxes of doughnuts. Calm on the outside, inside you’re a little kid again, “I can have
anything I want?”
Once we walked in and waited behind a wall of three jolly men. They were middleaged, their heads scraped the ceiling and they looked like they might’ve played football
when they were younger. Their athletic bodies were now delegated to memory, but
their appetites were still going strong. They were joking and laughing as they picked
out two dozen doughnuts each. When they left, we stepped forward and, feeling a little
embarrassed, asked for only a half-dozen for the both of us.
Macneal’s apples can be seen growing in the orchard as you cross over the last set of
hills on the way there – if you go the way we do. You can get to Lavonia a number
ways, but the only way to get there, in my mind, is a nice leisurely drive. If you’re in a
hurry, there’s probably nothing there for you anyway. If we’re just going to Macneal’s,
we take Rt. 477, (off Rt. 220) all the way to Lavonia. If you do this, you’ll pass through
Salona, go up the mountain along Long Run to Rosecrans, pass under Rt. 80, head
down into Sugar Valley to Loganton, cross over the next mountain on Bull Run Rd.,
where you’ll go past the apple orchard. We get a kick out of seeing the orchard right
before going to the apple stand. Makes us feel a little more connected to them, maybe.
Then the road descends into Brush Valley where Rt. 477 intersects with Rt. 192. This is
Lavonia. Turn right on Rt. 192 and the apple stand is about ¼ mile on the left. They’re
open Friday’s noon to 6PM, Sat & Sun 9AM to 6PM from Labor Day Weekend to
December.
Sometimes we hit both places. After
passing through Loganton, about a
mile down the road, Rt. 477 takes a
sharp right turn. There’s a sign there
telling you Eastville is five miles if
you turn left onto Winter Rd, SR202.
When you come to an undeniable
cluster of houses, and a right turn for
McCall Dam Rd, you’re in Eastville.
Make the right turn on to McCall
Dam Rd. Nan’s is several houses
ahead on the right just as the road
begins to rise for the pass. After
picking up doughnuts, we head up
the road and usually stop at a picnic area on White Deer Cr. It’s not that far, but it

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 4

seems far when you have a box of fresh doughnuts on the car seat. We usually enjoy
them while sitting at a picnic table watching trout rise in the stream. If you haven’t
eaten too many doughnuts, or maybe because you’ve eaten too many doughnuts, this is
nice place for a walk. There’s a good trail that takes you along the stream in either
direction. The road takes you down to Rt. 192 where you’ll find R.B. Winter State Park.
In fact, just before descending there’s a nice parking area on the left with a beautiful
vista. There’s also several trails in and around the park. If you’re ready for apples then
turn right on Rt. 192 and head about five miles west to Lavonia and Macneal’s.
There’s plenty to enjoy along the way. Several other small towns to pass through.
Plenty of farms, many with fields being worked by the Amish. Take care to watch out
for the buggies, especially on the blind turns in the hills. Farms stands are here and
there. Some years it’s out here we get our pumpkins to carve for Halloween. You’re
likely to pass a number of businesses selling such things as furniture, boots, honey, etc.
We finding it all very charming and welcoming, and filled with hidden treasures.
An Outdoorsman’s Playground
~Rep. Mike Hanna (LHU Alum, PA House of Representatives Democratic Whip)
As leaves start to change and we begin to experience cooler evenings and shorter days,
we know fall is upon us. For many, that means cozy sweaters and warm fires, but for
nearly one million licensed hunters in Pennsylvania, that means camo and tree stands.
For the hunter, October brings archery hunting of deer, squirrels, grouse, duck, goose,
pheasant and rabbit. And you can’t forget about fall fishing too. Are you new to the
area? Just starting your first semester at LHU? For those of us who have lived here all
our lives, we know that the fall can boast some remarkable hunting conditions
throughout our region.
In Pennsylvania, the State Game Lands system includes more than 1.5 million acres.
State Forests account for about 2 million acres. Enthusiasts can also enjoy hunting on
private lands throughout Pennsylvania.
There are five state parks in Clinton County: Bucktail State Park, Hyner Run State Park,
Hyner View State Park, Kettle Creek State Park, and Ravensburg State Park. There are six
state parks in Centre County: Bald Eagle State Park, Black Moshannon State Park, McCalls
Dam State Park, Penn-Roosevelt State Park, Poe Paddy State Park, and Poe Valley State Park.

Photo Courtesy of DCNR

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 5

On October 1, 2015, Governor Tom Wolf announced that hunters heading to
Pennsylvania’s state-owned woodlands will find additional roads opened by the
Department of Conservation and Natural Resources in 18 of the 20 state forest districts.
That means that 536 miles of state forest roads normally open only for administrative
use will be available to hunters and others visiting state forestlands. The roadways will
continue to stay open through January, 2016.
Finally, hunting safety should be taken extremely seriously. It is important to know
and understand Pennsylvania hunting laws and to adhere to them accordingly. The
Pennsylvania Game Commission notes the following safety tips should be adhered to
so as to ensure a safe hunting experience:
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

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Positively identify your target! Be sure you are shooting at legal game. Never
shoot at sounds or movement.
Stay in the zone! Know your safe zone-of-fire. Never shoot at game moving
between you and someone else.
Plan your hunt! Let someone know where you're hunting and when you'll
return.
Buckle up! If you hunt from an elevated stand, always wear a full-body, fallrestraint device as soon as your feet leave the ground until they return.
Keep fit! Hunting is hard work. Don’t become a statistic – keep physically fit.
Start with a check-up and follow your doctor’s advice.
Stay found! Become familiar with your hunting area. Learn how to use a map
and compass or GPS unit. Be prepared for emergencies. Carry a basic survival
kit and know how to use it.
Finally, BE SEEN! Wear or display the required amount of fluorescent orange
clothing.

Happy hunting!
Awakening Our Intimate Connection with Trees
~Melissa Eldridge, LHU Alum, Public Programs Educator at Briar Bush Nature Center
Most of us are well aware of the benefits that trees provide to humans: benefits to the
community, environment, and economy. Trees are planted in parks and residential
areas to provide shade and increase property value. Trees provide oxygen, conserve
water, reduce runoff, and provide a home for wildlife, improving the environment we
live in. Trees are used as fuel for fire, provide timber for construction, and grow many
of the fruits we eat. So it is no surprise that people have come to understand the beauty,
benefits, and value of trees throughout the ages. Now, it is time to awaken and truly
understand our deeply-rooted connection to trees, relating to our well-being.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 6

Our Physical Connection
Unpleasant or uncomfortable
environments can have
negative effects on our bodies.
When we encounter these
negative environments or
situations, our bodies become
stressed; our blood pressure,
heart rate, and muscle tension
is elevated; and our immune
system is suppressed.
Surrounding yourself with
trees, flowers, plants, and
wildlife can positively affect
your well-being by reducing blood pressure, heart rate, muscle tension, and the
production of stress hormones. Therapeutic gardens have been established due to the
positive result trees and other forms of nature have on our bodies and physical health.
Our Emotional Connection
Similar to our physical connection to trees is our emotional connection: unpleasant
environments or situations can have negative effects on our emotions as well. The stress
from an unpleasant environment or situation can leave one feeling anxious, sad,
helpless, angry, or uncomfortable. Spending time in natural, pleasing environments
reverses those feelings, resulting in a calm and relaxed state. Some seek relief from
stressful situations through hiking and other forms of outdoor exploration, especially
after a long work week.
Our Spiritual Connection
Trees have an amazing ability to create a state of mindfulness and awareness to those
nearby. It seems that one cannot help but become observant, attentive, and curious
while walking on a trail surrounded by trees, allowing them to feel a connectedness to
nature and the world around them. Some of the earliest cultures on Earth and some
cultures of today are well aware of the interconnectedness between humans and trees
and view them as powerful symbols relating to their lives. Many early cultures viewed
trees as symbols of growth, decay, resurrection, strength, and fertility.
Our Worldly Connection
When you think back to your childhood, you may begin to realize that you have a
number of memories involving trees: playing in your friend’s treehouse, climbing the
tree in your backyard, or observing the woodpeckers pecking at a tree in a nearby park.
Exploring trees throughout our lifetime creates a feeling of connectedness to the places
around us, helping us understand the interconnectedness between ourselves and the
world around us.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 7

“Wild” about Fall Trout
~Matt Truesdale (DCNR Environmental Educator and Central PA Angler)
We are blessed as residents of Pennsylvania. Not everyone in North America has the
privilege of experiencing all four seasons. As the months pass, the uniqueness of each
season brings upon spectacles of nature that are only experienced for a short time.
Picturesque views of snow-covered mountains in the winter. The spring hunt for morel
mushrooms. Our state insect, the lightning bug,
illuminating late summer nights and the fall migrations of
the Monarch Butterfly are just a few examples. No matter
the month and no matter the season, Pennsylvania is truly
one-of-a-kind.
I consider Central PA to be one of the country’s best wild
trout fisheries. Maybe this is because I am biased to the
area I grew up in. Or maybe it is a result of the number,
size, and beauty of wild trout caught in this area. Many of
the best wild trout waters within the state are located
within a short drive from Lock Haven. These streams
often become a seasonal paradise of fall foliage and
churning cool waters that can only be captured for a short time of the year and can
rarely be duplicated by nature. So go ahead and unplug. Grab your rod of choice. And
head outside on a warm afternoon this October to experience what many anglers can
only dream of.
Everyone has their favorite wild trout stream. Below are some of my favorites and their
distance from LHU:
Spring Creek (Bellefonte/State College) 25 miles
Little Juniata (Spruce Creek) 60 miles
Penns Creek (Coburn) 26 miles
Elk Creek (Millheim) 24 miles
Big Fishing Creek (Lamar) 10 miles
As the sun continues to sink into the horizon earlier each day, a welcomed change is
sensed in the crisp air. Our local ecosystems are in full preparation mode as September
has come to an end. Not only are we as humans preparing for the winter season, but
the plants, insects and animals are aware of the changes they also need to make in order
to survive. We take for granted the intellect of our native species. The inhabitants of
Penns Woods are truly conscious to the significance of the autumnal equinox as
temperatures and solar illumination are changing.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 8

Many outdoorsmen use the fall season to dream of bow hunting and big bucks. On the
other hand, Pennsylvania anglers begin to salivate at the thought of monster wild
browns and brilliant native brookies. By far, there is no better season to trout fish, than
the fall season. Each small drop in water temperature is a signal to these fish that it is
time to eat and spawn. The more a trout can eat during the fall, the better its chances of
survival through winter are when food is more limited. This feeding frenzy combined
with protective spawning trout can result in hooking into larger than average fish.
The magnificence of a wild trout is unmatched by any of the other members of its
icthyological brethren. Wild trout color patterns are excessively more vibrant. Wild
trout often put up a better fight on the end of the line. Landing a wild trout is gratifying
in the idea that you were able to trick a stream bred and born fish. And there are plenty
of ways to try to trick these fish. In order to give you the best chance at landing a wild
trout, I have highlighted the top three different baits that all anglers can relate to that
should result in a successful fall fishing trip.
There are a few items to keep in mind when packing your
tackle or fly box. Trout are opportunistic feeders. They will
forage on many items including macroinvertebrates to
crayfish and mice. Trout will even eat their own species and
fish eggs that may be drifting past. There is no set meal plan
or feeding pattern for wild animals, especially for fish.
Trout will try to eat at any time of the day. Trout, like most
other fish, will also strike aggressively at something that is
either annoying them, they find curiosity in, or if they feel
threatened. It is not necessary to carry a large tackle box
with every single bait you have. Pack light but keep a small
diversity of options so that you can traverse the stream
much easier.
1) Rapala’s Ultra Light Minnow (ULM)
The ULM is the absolutely the best lure that I have tied on the end of my spinning rod.
This hard plastic jerk bait will almost always entice a bite when used correctly. To get
the attention of a trout, toss this lure upstream and allow it to slowly sink as you reel
and twitch your rod. Twitching, or jerking, your rod as the bait is retrieved will make it
appear as though it is a dying fry drifting in the water. Trout will show interest and
follow this bait as it flashes by them, often times triggering a bite. I suggest using the
Rainbow Trout patterned ULM in size 06.
2) Streamer of choice (Slump Buster, Muddler Minnow, Wooly Bugger)
Streamers are another great option as an angler to use for a big bruiser trout. Any of
these three choices will suite you well. The main objective when using a streamer is the
same as the Rapala ULM, the only difference is that streamers are a soft bodied tied fly.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 9

Vary your casts to different portions of the stream and strip back at different speeds and
intervals.
3) Trout Eggs
As the fall season progresses and the photoperiod of the
daytime continues to decrees, the instinct to spawn will
overtake the adult wild trout. Real single eggs, eggs
sacks, or tied egg patters like Glow Bugs or the Blood Dot,
will be advantageous to your arsenal. Unlike the
previously mentioned baits, allow this pattern to float
near the bottom of the stream, bumping rocks along the
way.
If you cannot make it out to the stream in the fall season,
do not worry. Winter trout fishing can be some of the
most enjoyable time on the water (if you can keep warm
enough). There is almost no one to compete with for
stream space and the trout are more challenging to catch.
The water is generally more clear and colder which can
lead the trout to be pickier on what they will eat. It’s
crucial that the presentation of your fly or lure is as on
point as possible during the winter months. Quality
fly/lure selection and presentation will lead to an exciting afternoon on the trout stream
during the snowy days of winter.
Even if you are not an angler, get outside to experience what Pennsylvania has to offer.
Many individuals wish they could have your opportunities.
Reflections on Planting Trees in Sproul State Forest
~Jim Bean (LHU Psychology Professor)
Each year in April students plant trees in Sproul forest, usually five to six thousand
trees. I’m always impressed by how good the LHUP students are as they apply
themselves conscientiously to planting trees. They impress the foresters, too, who walk
along and remind planters to execute the “pull test,” a gentle tug on the sapling to make
sure it is firmly planted. We often plant in rocky ground which makes it difficult to get
the planting spade down far enough. Working in pairs with one planter using the
spade and the other carrying the saplings in a shoulder bag, you both “work it in.” You
push with your shoe on the horizontal bar above the blade to start the hole, usually
leaning your body into the thrust. Frequently, you then have to move the spade back
and forth to get down far enough.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 10

The small sapling’s roots must go straight down…don’t “J-root” it because it will die.
You then have to “heel it in” by pushing the dirt from both sides with your toe and
heel. This is to prevent the air from getting to the roots. We have planted in the rain
which, while a muddy slog, helps seal the holes the trees are nestled in. If we plant on a
sunny day we always pray for rain to come as hot days will rob the moisture from the
ground and kill the little trees.
Retired State Forester Butch Davey uses a “hoedaddy” rather than a planting spade and
wields it from over his head into the ground. It looks like a hoe but has a longer blade.
He slides the sapling along the blade
into the hole and then makes a close
second hole where he can push dirt up
to the tree and close the first hole. He
says the Hispanic workers can plant
hundreds of saplings by themselves in
a few hours. I’m always reminded of
how incredible these workers are
despite being paid poorly in dozens of
hard labor jobs.
Norm Lacasse, who has a formidable
reputation as an environmentalist,
always serves a terrific lunch to the hungry planters at noon. He regaled us with stories
about the progressive conservationist Myra Lloyd Dock about whom he and our own
Susan Rimby have written so expertly. Every student in Pennsylvania should know
how much we owe her for the development and preservation of our state forests. Both
she and Governor Sproul would have loved to see the students planting trees where
fire, storms and pests have killed them.
Students often tell me they have “caught the passion for trees” after getting their hands
into planting. Before going into the forest they take a “tree planter’s” test on the tree
species in PA, types of pests and types of ticks. We have not had big problems with
ticks but we always spray our pant legs with DEET and check ourselves closely after
finishing planting and going home. Home? Students can’t forget that the trees in
Sproul Forest provide many things for bears, turkeys, rabbits, hawks, bobcats, deer,
coyotes, small birds, and many other species. Reforestation is critical to providing a
home for them.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 11

The Story of Nash the Turtle
~Susan Rimby (LHU Dean of Liberal Arts & Education) and John F. Katz (Freelance Writer)
It began with a knock on the door on an evening in late July. John opened the door to
find his across-the-hall neighbors, Paula and Brian, looking somewhat anxious. The
couple, who regularly cared for the neighborhood’s feral cats, had been trying to talk
John into adopting a kitten for some time. He steeled himself for another refusal. So
you can imagine his surprise when Brian asked somewhat sheepishly, “You know
something about turtles, don’t you?”
“Turtles!” John searched his mind. How would Brian even know this? That’s right,
John’s son, John Victor, had visited a few weeks back accompanied by his box turtles,
Al and Frank. The two reptiles had encountered Brian and Paula’s cats. Both sets of
animals had been curious, but peaceful. With that part of the mystery solved, John
became aware of the cardboard box Brian was pushing forward, containing a rather
dirty and scrawny pond turtle.
“I found him in the basement of the garage,” Brian said, presumably the commercial
repair garage where he worked. “I don’t think he’s in very good shape. Would you
look at him?” John accepted the box and said, “Thank you.” What else do you say to a
gift of any kind? Having presumably done their duty, Brian and Paula turned back to
their door. John closed his door, too, and brought his new roommate into the kitchen
for a quick examination.
The creature appeared to be an Eastern Painted turtle. There was a very obvious
crescent-shaped chunk missing from the right rear portion of its shell, as if it had been
bitten out. The wound had healed, but the animal had obviously survived a horrific
attack. Even more immediately worrisome was his filthy condition and obvious lack of
weight. John knew from experience that healthy turtles were heavy and strong for their
size. This animal was neither.
The first order of business was a bath in
the tub, which immediately suggested a
name to John – Bathtub Ginny, like the
illegal gin produced during Prohibition.
Turtles like being clean, so the bath was a
pleasant experience for both parties. John
quickly gathered his thoughts while
washing the turtle. A three-room
apartment in Penbrook was no place for a
pond turtle. Given her injury, Ginny
could never return to the wild. She
would need adoptive parents, preferably

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 12

in possession of a small pond effectively fenced off from predators. In the meantime,
she would need more suitable quarters within John’s apartment. John filled the sloping
bathtub with just enough water so that Ginny could swim in the deep end or rest in the
shallow end. Either way, she couldn’t get out. John put on his jacket, drove to Petco,
and bought an aquarium, a pump and filter, a full-spectrum lamp, and a plastic island.
This would keep Ginny as comfortable as possible for as long as she had to stay. There
was nothing more John could do that night. He settled down with the television, the
turtle in her tank within view on the living room floor. He knew he could get attached
to this animal very quickly.
John’s son, John Victor, is something of a turtle enthusiast. As a result, both father and
son are long-term members of the Mid-Atlantic Turtle and Tortoise Society (MATTS).
MATTS has proven again and again to be a prime source of information for all matters
turtle. John’s first morning phone call was to Katrina Smith, MATTS’ adoption
coordinator. John was not surprised when Katrina asked him where he was located.
He was a little taken aback, however, when Katrina announced, somewhat breathlessly,
that she’d be in Penbrook in two hours. She arrived punctually and examined the turtle
with her usual upbeat enthusiasm.
“It’s a male, for one thing,” she announced. John made a mental note to change the
animal’s name. She said, “He looks like he’s been mauled by a raccoon. There aren’t
many animals that can take a chunk out of a turtle’s shell like that. Did you notice that
he has no toes on his left rear foot? That’s also typical raccoon. They nibble them off.”
John felt embarrassed for not noticing the missing toes and his opinion of raccoons,
never favorable, slipped down another few notches. Then Katrina dropped the
bombshell that John was not expecting. “He’ll survive just fine if you return him to the
wild.”
“What,” John asked, “With such serious injuries?”
“His injuries have healed,” Katrina answered. “He has enough of his left foot that he
can still swim and climb onto a floating log. I’m far more concerned about his weight.
It’s already late summer and he’s terribly underweight. He needs to hibernate in the
fall, and since he’ll lose weight during hibernation, he’ll need to weigh at least twenty
ounces before he’s returned to the wild.”
John struggled to take all of this in. “Okay, what do I do?”
“Feed him worms and cooked chicken,” Katrina answered as though it was obvious.
“And weigh him every day.” “He needs to weigh twenty ounces before he’s released.
As soon as he’s reached his goal weight you should release him, so he can find a place
to hibernate well before the first frost.” With that, Katrina packed up her equipment

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 13

and left. John made a mental note to go out and buy some chicken breasts and bait
worms.
The easiest part of the turtle rehabilitation was the coining of a more masculine name.
John figured he could keep the “bathtub” part. Recalling a nickname applied to the
1949-1951 Nash automobile for its smoothly rounded and uninterrupted sides, Bathtub
Ginny became Bathtub Nash. That name came naturally to John, who is by profession a
free-lance automotive writer.
Nash’s rehabilitation now began in earnest. Before John prepared his own breakfast, he
dropped pieces of cooked chicken onto Nash’s island and placed a wriggly worm into
the turtle’s water. Nash clearly enjoyed hunting, striking, and devouring his worm. If
he was still hungry, he picked at the chicken with significantly less enthusiasm. John
guessed the things that didn’t move weren’t as much fun to eat. After John ate his own
breakfast, he went to work in the next room on his computer, occasionally checking in
on Nash. The turtle spent about half the day basking on his island under the full
spectrum lamp, and the other half swimming in his tank. In the evenings John cooked
his own dinner and retired to the living room to watch television. Nash generally
wasn’t interested in TV, but there was one exception. John liked reruns of “Columbo,”
and so did Nash. He would climb up on his island and watch, mesmerized, as long as
the rumpled detective was on the screen. At such times John was sorely tempted to
pick Nash up and hold him in his lap. But knowing Nash would ultimately return to
the wild, John did not want him to become too comfortable with a human touch.
Weighing Nash at first proved a challenge. John’s first idea was to stand on his
bathroom scale by himself, then stand on the scale holding Nash, then subtract the
difference. But there wasn’t much difference to subtract, and John worried about the
accuracy of this whole arrangement. It just so happened that John’s friend, Susan,
mentioned that she had just ordered a new Weight Watchers’ scale to weigh food
portions. She offered to weigh Nash on this scale. In fact, Nash was weighed on this
scale before any food touched its surface.
Nash’s care soon became routine. The Weight Watchers’ scale now lived in John’s
apartment. When John visited Susan, neighbor Paula fed Nash his usual chicken and
worms. Paula did this with enthusiasm, as if Nash were one more feral cat in need of
her attention. In the meantime, Susan and John scouted suitable turtle release locations.
Susan had taken a sabbatical from her teaching job at Shippensburg University and was
writing a biography of Mira Lloyd Dock, a Harrisburg conservationist. Among Dock’s
achievements was the creation of Wildwood Lake Park in Harrisburg. Susan believed
this was the ideal location for Nash. Here, Nash could hunt his normal prey and bask
upon the many floating logs. John took photos of the lake, including one of the large
painted turtles already living there, and sent them to Katrina. Katrina emailed back

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 14

that the environment could not be more perfect for a young male turtle. The two turtles
in the photograph were both female.
By early September Nash had reached his goal weight. In one sense, the time had gone
very quickly. But not so quickly that John and Susan hadn’t grown very attached to
Nash. It would be hard to let him go, but it was the right thing to do. Eastern Painted
turtles are diminishing because they’ve lost habitat to human development, and to
invasive species still sold as pets. Here was a healthy Painted that could be returned to
a legally protected environment.
John and Susan released the turtle on a glorious September Sunday morning. Nash
rode placidly in a cardboard shoebox upon Susan’s lap as the couple drove to
Wildwood Lake Park’s North Parking Lot. As they approached their destination
however, Nash grew restless, squirming excitedly—as if he could smell the lake, and his
freedom.
John took off his shoes and slipped down the lake’s muddy bank, still holding the
shoebox. He lifted Nash out and released him. Nash slipped into the water and
instantly dove beneath the surface. John waited for him to surface—for some sign that
he would be all right. Perhaps, irrationally, he was expecting a look back, a good-bye, a
thank-you. It occurred to him that the wild turtle would more likely remain hidden
beneath the surface until the people were gone. That was a good sign, really—Nash was
still wild--but it made leaving that much harder.
A few weeks later John visited his massage therapist, Sharon, also a turtle enthusiast.
Naturally, he told her about Nash and how he’d recently released the turtle. Sharon
said, “I have to show you something. Knowing I like turtles, another client brought me
this photo she’d taken at Wildwood Lake last Saturday.” Sharon showed a photo of an
Eastern Painted turtle. He was balanced on the rounded upper surface of a floating log.
His shell was covered with bits of plant life from the lake. His left front leg was lifted
off the log, as if attempting a gesture, and his head was held high in the air. His
expression was unmistakable. He was the mayor, no, the king of Wildwood Lake.
Sharon asked, “Could this be Nash?”
John looked carefully at the photo. He saw the curved bite mark clearly visible on the
right rear side of the animal’s shell. There was no question.

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 15

How Can I Not Care?
~Jeff Walsh (LHU Recreation Management Professor
I don’t exactly remember when it happened, but it was within the last year. It might
even have been as long ago as last fall. I do know that it was a Friday and a day like
today – sunny, great temperature, and a great day to take a drive. I must have been in
good mood because I was thinking, “what a pretty day for a drive” even though I was
headed back to my office after having gone for lunch.
As I was looking around, fairly attuned to
the natural surroundings, I came to the
bald hillside on Lusk Run road where
nature is slowly recovering from the
scalping of the mountain. Many of you
know the place; it is just past the Bald
Eagle Township’s maintenance complex –
what where I grew up we called the “town
barns.” The site where, a few years back,
someone first removed all the trees and
vegetation and then took shale, topsoil,
and rocks to create fill for some sort of construction project. A couple of trails were
carved into the face of the hillside for earth moving equipment, new slopes were
scrapped to control erosion control, and one more distinctive human footprint was left
as evidence that we are able to do pretty much what we want to much of the earth’s
topography.
I recalled the sense of loss I had experienced throughout the duration of that
construction process. How I was offended that someone had so drastically altered such
a natural site probably in the name of progress. Granted, my experience of that hillside
was quite superficial. It was limited to a visually recognition of the place, a first-hand
knowledge that deer crossed it (and one at least one occasion used it as a springboard to
launch into the middle of the road), and a knowing that - had we purchased one specific
home we looked at, this barren patch of land would have been adjacent to my property.
I thought how sad it was that that hillside would never be the same; and how
permanently and negatively (from my perspective) my drives to work, and beyond, had
been altered. I wondered how many of the people who traveled Lusk Run road daily
felt as I did. How many sensed a loss or sadness each time they drove past this place. I
wondered for how people had it never mattered or how many others had “gotten over”
the change.
Those demoralizing thoughts suddenly morphed into a forceful sense of wonder about
how omnipotent human behavior can be in rearranging viewsheds, and ultimately
people’s lives. I was almost in awe of our power as I realized that I had watched

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 16

environmental destruction on a pretty minor scale. In an instant I thought, “Imagine
how the local people in the Appalachian Mountains regions feel when they witness
mountaintop removal mining by the coal industry?” “What about those city residents
who stare at blocks of brown fields each morning as they ride the train commuting to
work?” “Or those rural folks who live across the valley from a new above-ground
natural gas pipeline that stretches from the ridge top down to the valley floor?”
Suddenly I felt a sense of empathy for others who suffer a loss of a special place; special
in the sense that to some degree it was their place, it had importance or meaning to
them, a place near their home or where they vacationed, a place that they had
emotionally invested in – a place about which they cared. It was then that I had a
personal epiphany – an intuitive leap of understanding.
For years, I had been sympathetic for others’ losses of place, but that had always been
on a cognitive level. I knew that people are often attached to the geographic locations
they experience in their daily lives. I knew that environmental change could negatively
affect an individual’s sense of a place when that person was attached to a place. I knew
mountaintop removal mining was wrong. I knew that when businesses deserted places
and left deadly pollutants behind, it was wrong. I believed that pick to return to place
they have an affinity for. I believed that people’s senses of places help determine what
they do and who they are. I believed that people only appreciate and protect those places
they are attached to, or dependent on. Now, in a moment, I recognized that I had never
empathized with those people, had never felt their losses; and I wondered if it’s even
possible to care about a place that one has no personal sense of.
Hemlock Hike: Chatham Run
~Bob Myers (LHU Director of Environmental Studies)
This hike follows a small feeder stream to Chatham Run, the main water supply for
Woolrich, PA. To get to the trailhead, start at the Clinton County Courthouse on Jay
and Water Streets. Check your odometer and cross the bridge to follow Route 664
North for 9.3 miles. You’ll pass Coltrane Lane and Irish Lane on the right, and then
you’ll see a small mileage marker that has 210 on it—immediately after that, on the
right, is the gravel parking area (just beyond, to the left, is a camp).
Walk towards the black metal gate and go down the road. The road will turn hard to
the right and then you’ll cross a very tiny stream—this is the feeder that you’ll be
following to Chatham Run. Stay on the road for another 75 yards uphill and then turn
right onto a grassy road (if you come to a open clearing, you’ve missed the turnoff).
Follow the road downhill towards the stream. After about 15 minutes you’ll pass a trail
that goes uphill towards the right, but stay on the main trail (this trail goes back to 664,
a bit south of the parking area). After another 15 minutes, you will pass another trail to
the right, but keep descending, following the stream. Almost immediately you’ll come
to a complicated intersection—the main trail continues straight, but you could follow

The Hemlock 8.2 (Spring 2015), page 17

the trail to the left that turns 180 degrees down towards the stream—this is the
confluence of the feeder stream and Chatham Run.
Continue downstream on the main trail for another five
minutes. You’ll see a flat area to the left, and, if you look
carefully, the stone abutment of an old bridge (see the photo
above). If you cross the stream here you’ll see several
interesting old stone foundations. I have absolutely no idea
what they were, but they are fun to explore.
At this point, you could return to the car (30-40 minutes), or
continue down the trail that follows Chatham Run.
Theoretically, you could leave another car at the Woolrich
Outlet (about two more miles) before starting the hike, but
the legality of the final stretch of trail is ambiguous—you go
through the Woolrich reservoirs, and coming from the
Woolrich side there are serious “No Trespassing” signs
(coming from 664, you don’t see any).
Thanks to John Reid for helping me scout this trail.
Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Lee Putt, Ralph
Harnishfeger, Barrie Overton, Todd Nesbitt, Sharon Stringer, Jamie Walker, Steve
Guthrie, John Reid, Lynn Bruner, Elisabeth Lynch, Kevin Hamilton, Keith Roush, Steve
Seiler, Elizabeth Gruber, Joby Topper, Ray Steele, Michael McSkimming, Mark Jones,
Adam Nothstein, Susan Rimby, Stephen Neun, and Scott Carnicom. The committee is
charged with promoting and supporting activities, experiences, and structures that
encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a stronger sense of place for Lock
Haven University and central Pennsylvania. Such a sense of place involves a
stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism), meaningful outdoor experiences,
and appreciation for the heritage of the region.