Old Baldy Dune: Transitory Wilderness Calls for Creative Conservation

     Wendy beckoned to me as if to say “You’re missing something good!” I dragged my boots out of the warm, soupy sand and high-stepped to rejoin the group. As I crested the desiccated ridge, my senses exploded in ecstatic excess. My ears were filled with the quiet roar of the wind through the pitcher’s thistles and the roaring quiet of Dr. Dornbos’ lecture, the woody, prehistorically floral scent of the sand cherries exploded in my nostrils (Sadie said they smelled like authentic Nashville tortillas and strawberry jolly ranchers), and my boots were inundated with sand. These sensations were forgotten, however, as soon as I took in the sweeping view of Lake Michigan. The horizon sprinted into the distance, with only your imagination to illustrate the shores of Wisconsin almost 70 miles away in the smoky blue sky. Here at last I beheld the dune shores of Michigan.

The Arcadia Dunes is home to the greatest natural formation in Michigan - or at least, it was. Part of the C.S. Mott Nature Preserve, which is protected and managed by the Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy in Empire Township, the Arcadia Dunes consists of 3,800 acres of protected land, easements, and hiking trails. Within this expansive park, there is a trail called Old Baldy. This trail once led to a massive dune on the coast of Lake Michigan, which dominated the coastal area for miles in each direction. However, it is now home to a series of smaller dunes scattered around where Old Baldy once towered. As I stood on the dunes, I could almost feel the weight of what was missing in the spaces where the blue water peeked through the shifting chalk. Ironically, my presence there could be partially blamed for the absence of the old dune - due to years of foot traffic in the dynamic, stressful environment, the dune was slowly eroded. How could this have happened? In such a tough environment, there are essential species of plants, like marram grass (Ammophila breviligulata), which put down roots in the sand and anchor it. In the picture below, you can see lumps of sand cherry and grass rising above the dunes - these areas remain undamaged because of this effect.

There are other species of plants that deliver this anchoring effect as well - the biggest ones are Sand Cherries (Prunus pumila), Prostrate Juniper (Juniperus communis), Bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi), Pitcher thistle (Cirsium pitcheri), and Wormwood (Artemisia absinthium). Many of these species are level 10 protected organisms, and all of them stabilize the dunes. However, the erosion of Old Baldy is not a story about the detriments of human presence in a delicate environment - it is a story about the active and unique nature of an ecosystem that is designed to be in constant flux. Take the Pitcher thistle as an example. This species takes advantage of the constantly moving sand to distribute its seeds and reproduce - like its habitat, it too is constantly on the move.

 

In such a dynamic environment, the plants that bolster the stability of the dunes themselves need unique support. While sitting on the dunes, I noticed a wide variety of insects interacting with and pollinating the plants around me. Bees, flies, and wasps roamed the slopes visiting sand cherry, thistles, and beach grasses. Butterflies flitted from slope to ridge, and beetles traced winding paths through the sand under the vegetation. There is a surprising amount of biodiversity for such a strange ecosystem. 

So what is the truth? Did Old Baldy dissolve because it was never meant to last, or because we ruined it? I think the answer is not as simple as one or the other. While this beautiful, vibrant waste is in a state of constant change, it is also under attack from modern development, improper foot traffic, and other abiotic factors. Old Baldy was always going to morph and eventually disappear, but that is no excuse to give no thought to how we should protect this ecosystem. As I walked the dunes, I had a conversation with Heath Garris about how we could even protect such a place. He pointed out that in the case of the well-traveled Pitcher Thistle, we cannot merely protect where it is, but also where it could be. By developing an area of coastal dunes, even if it does not contain any live Pitcher Thistles at the moment, we reduce the range of habitat for this rare species. Thus the transitory nature of this wilderness should inform our attempts to conserve it, rather than excuse us from doing so.