High Water In A Shallow Lake

Lake Erie is the shallowest of the five Great Lakes.  This spring, however, the constant rains have raised the level of the Lake by almost three feet.  In some places, like Sandusky, the water levels are the highest that have ever been recorded.

The high water levels are doing some real damage, too.  Some docks and parts of shorelines have become submerged, and increased erosion caused by the high waters is eating away the Lake Erie coastline.  From the North Coast communities of Mentor to Vermilion to Sandusky, officials are dealing with the impact of high water taking down trees, rendering docks inaccessible, and leaving low-lying areas underwater, and homeowners along the lake also are dealing with flooding issues.   The water levels in Sandusky are so high that the normal outfalls from Sandusky Bay to Lake Erie have been reversed, and water from the lake is now raising the water levels in the bay — causing officials to take drastic actions to try to pump the excess water out.  And the impact of the rain and high water has been compounded by a persistent wind from the north that is pushing the Lake Erie waters against the Ohio coast of the lake, increasing the damage.

The conditions pose special peril for boaters, in ways you might not expect.  The high waters will affect bridge clearances over lagoons and access rivers and is submerging some break walls that would otherwise be visible.  And, with increased erosion and trees collapsing into the lake, there is increased risk of debris messing with motors and propellers — all of which means that boaters had better watch it when they are close to shore.  And any experienced Lake Erie boater will tell you that the lake is legendary for its sudden storms that can appear in the blink of an eye, whip the water into a frenzy, and, in some instances, put boaters at risk of losing their boat — and their life.  The high waters won’t help in that category, either.

One lesson that you learn from reading about the impact of high water levels — there’s not much human beings can do about it, short term.  What the communities around Lake Erie need right now is a break in the constant rains and a period of sunshine and warm temperatures to allow evaporation to play its intended role and reduce lake levels back to normal.  In short, we need Mother Nature to show us a little mercy.

In Linwood Park

On our one-day visit to Vermilion for the VHS Class of ’75 reunion, we spent the night in rooms in Linwood Park.  It’s the first time I’ve been to Linwood Park, or even heard of it, and I’ve been going to Vermilion for about 40 years.

Linwood Park describes itself as a “family park,” but it really reminds you of an old-fashioned American summer colony.  Located right on the shores of Lake Erie, it is a quiet enclave of white wooden cottages with lots of kids playing outside on the wide, shaded lawns, a nice beach, a small store, a candy store/grill/ice cream shop, and a tabernacle.  We stayed in rooms above the ice cream shop and treated ourselves to the beach before and after the reunion.

Visiting Linwood Park is like taking a throwback journey to an earlier, more relaxed, pre-cell phone and social media America, when riding bikes and playing on a playground and treating yourself to some penny candy was all a kid wanted on a fine summer’s day.  It’s hard to believe it’s still here — but it is, just like it’s been for more than 100 years.  It’s worth a visit.

Bonfire Ready

We’re up in the Vermilion area for Kish’s high school reunion.  When’re staying in Linwood, a long-standing community that has a great beach by Lake Erie standards.  Some thoughtful soul has already assembled a pile of driftwood for the bonfire later tonight.

Dawn At The Breakers

Hey!  It’s Labor Day weekend!  What else to do but get the family together, go to an amusement park, and stand in line with thousands of other sweaty, oft-tattooed people on the verge of sunstroke?

That’s right — we’re up on Ohio’s North Coast at Cedar Point, the best roller coaster park in the world.  And after giving the park a workout last night we stayed at The Breakers, the sprawling old hotel on the sandy shores of Lake Erie that dates back to the Boardwalk Empire era.  It’s an interesting place, and Cedar Point remains a destination visit for anyone who loves to don a safety belt, shoulder harness, and lap bar and get rolled, tilted, and thrown upside down, all while careening at speeds approaching the sound barrier.

It may be September according to the calendar, but it’s still summer in our hearts.

Erie Setting (II)

It’s a beautiful day on Lake Erie.  How often do you get a chance to swim in a Great Lake?

Erie Setting

We’re up on Lake Erie today for a family reunion of sorts.  We’re staying in a cottage complex on the lakeside.  Today is a bright but windy day, where the breeze has whipped the lake in frothing waves.

The Lake Erie shoreline is interesting and a bit more egalitarian than you would find by many large bodies of water.  It’s not the exclusive domain of wealthy people in McMansions.  There are lots of of small cottage complexes like this one, where the average folks can rent a small cottage — and some of the ones here, like those below, are pretty tiny — and enjoy the waterfront for a few days.

The Leaping Range Of The Wolf Spider

Hen Island in Lake Erie is a spidery place.  You regularly see little spiders scurrying about in the corners of the old buildings, and if you walk around the island you need to be prepared to scrape some stray cobwebs from your arms or your face.

Coming face to face with a huge, hairy-legged monstrosity on a screened-in porch is quite another matter, however.

This beauty showed up on the porch on Saturday morning.  It was not quite as big as a tarantula — but close . . . appallingly, disgustingly close.  It was down by a baseboard, near a table leg, looking bigger than it actually was because it was a female spider toting an egg sac.  As our group of six or seven sat on our rockers, reading and chatting on a pretty morning, one member of the group noticed the spider.  Then, the conversation went something like this:

“Hey, look at the size of that spider.  Holy shit!”

“That’s a wolf spider.  It’s harmless.”

“You may be right, but my conscious mind refuses to believe that anything that looks like that is harmless.”

“Well, they can bite.”

“Yeah, but the bite is not poisonous.”

“It will still leave a pretty good welt.”

“I’ve heard that wolf spiders can leap ten feet.”

Wait . . . ten feet?  At that point everybody on the porch did a mental calculation of their range from the spider, which now looked suspiciously like it was crouching and ready to spring, and whether they were beyond the ten-foot zone of death.  I’m guessing that many of the rockers had the same thought I did — a mental image of a shaggy horror suddenly flying through the air, landing on their face, close enough so you can get a good look at the inhuman eyes and the slavering mandibles, and delivering a sharp, painful bite.  And if that bulging egg sac happened to burst at just that moment, releasing a horde of ravenous, biting baby spiders with Olympic-caliber leaping abilities into an enclosed area . . . .

At that point, getting a cup of coffee from the kitchen in the next building seemed like a really good idea.

One of the staffers eventually came and put the spider, which had remained blessedly huddled near the table, in a jar.  We all took a good look, then released it outside, feeling good and environmentally sensitive about letting the spider back into its habitat but nevertheless unsettled by our brush with the wild world.

Sunsets On Hen

Richard, UJ and I were up at Hen Island in Lake Erie this weekend for the annual father-son get-together at the Quinnebog Fishing Club.  We ate lots of food, drank lots of beer, and played lots of cribbage.  We also enjoyed some spectacular sunsets.

When you are a city dweller, you don’t see many dramatic sunsets, because the horizon is blocked by buildings.  When you’re out on an island, however, you can really appreciate how wonderful sunsets can be.  That’s Friday’s sunset above, and Saturday’s sunset below.  Friday’s sunset was more bold and colorful, but Saturday’s was more interesting, with the backlit clouds looking like the outline of continents on a map, limned in fire.

Sad Sign

When I was up at Put-In-Bay several weeks ago, I walked to a park and found a nice group of colorful kayaks set against a rocky beach, with one of the island outcroppings and a pretty blue sky behind.  It made for a nice picture.

But . . . what’s that sign say, just above the “Have fun on the water” green triangle?

It’s a sign advising people not to drink Lake Erie water and cautioning about the potential presence of blue-green algae toxins.  The sign helpfully advises people to avoid water that looks like spilled paint, or is covered with scum or film, or has “green globs” floating just below the surface.  That’s useful information when you’re going out in one of those brightly colored kayaks, I guess, although it sure would put a damper on my ability to “have fun on the water.”

Ohio actually has a website that provides more information about “harmful algae blooms” and their potentially toxic effects on human skin, livers, and nervous systems.  The blooms are caused by excess nutrients, consisting primarily of phosphorus and nitrogen, that run off into the lake from fertilized farm fields and feed the algae.  The nutrient run-off and the algae blooms is a problem not only for Lake Erie, but also for a bunch of other lakes and ponds in Ohio — including the pond on the Yantis Loop here in New Albany.

Lake Erie is vastly improved from what it was in the ’60s, when I remember taking a boat ride in the lake with grade school classmates and being amazed at how filthy it looked and how terrible it smelled.  Careful regulation of pollutants, efforts to keep invasive species out, and other initiatives have had a significant positive impact.  As the sad sign on the Put-In-Bay shore indicates, however, there is still more work to do.

A Freshly Washed Morning

It’s another beautiful morning on the sunny shores of Lake Erie. Storms rolled through last night, giving the air a freshly washed feel.

P-I-B Sunrise

The Gleeful Retiree and his lovely wife graciously invited me to join a group for a visit to their beautiful Put-In-Bay place on the shores of Lake Erie this weekend. We stayed up to the wee hours last night, talking and catching up, and I slept with the windows open, enjoying the breeze and the ever-present murmurs of the Lake in the background. I think you never sleep so well as you do around water.

Today dawned bright and clear, to the accompaniment of gull cries, surf sounds, and the whistle of a brisk wind.

On The Way To Put-In-Bay

I’m on Ohio’s north coast, heading across Lake Erie to Put-In-Bay aboard one of the Miller ferries. It’s always a bit jarring to see seagulls after miles of corn and soybeans.

Wally The Walleye

At one of the corners of the main intersection in Vermilion, Ohio, you will find Wally The Walleye. Wally is a good-sized metal sculpture that appears to be anatomically accurate –he’s even got a lure in his mouth — but rather than standard scales he’s got fish representations on his shiny skin.

Wally is part of the “Follow The Fish” Art and Adventure Trail along Lake Erie. He was sponsored by the Greater Cleveland Aquarium. As is the case with so much public art, Wally adds a very nice and distinctive touch to his little corner of the world. The Follow The Fish Trail is a cool idea.

Home Of The Sailors

Kish and I are up in Vermilion, Ohio for a family bridal shower. Because I’d rather thrust rusty screwdrivers under my fingernails than participate in a bridal shower, I’m spending a soggy Saturday knocking around the downtown area of Kish’s home town.

Vermilion is a cool place. Located right on Lake Erie, about halfway between Cleveland and Toledo, it’s got a clear nautical orientation. The high school football team is the Sailors, there are boats pretty much everywhere you look, and there’s a well-stocked bait shop right in the center of town. It’s one of the best places in the world to get a Lake Erie perch dinner — and anyone who has had a fresh, hot, fried Lake Erie perch dinner knows that’s the best fish you can eat, period.

Lake Erie is vast — it is a Great Lake, after all — and choppy on a day like today. A landlubber like me is endlessly fascinated by anchors, and masts, and rigging, and large mooring pylons that look massive enough to hold a freighter hard against a pier. They can be found in Vermilion in abundance. With its quaint buildings, white wooden frame houses by the lake, and the ever-present sound of water slapping against docks, Vermilion is like Ohio’s special little slice of New England.

TBDBOTW

Those of us in Ohio have always known that The Ohio State University Marching Band is the Best Damn Band In The Land.  Now, thanks to the Bus Riding Conservative and this video showing the band skimming across the waters of Lake Erie on their way to a celebration of the War of 1812 at Put-in-Bay, we know that TBDBITL is also TBDBOTW.