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From my perch on the knoll, I saw sturdy trees that were actually growing straight out from the solid rock. As I looked more closely at the face of the cliff from the bottom, I could see the roots of those white pines gripping the cliff face as they do in many other places throughout the Coulee Region.
Where the rocks were laid open to the intense rays of the sun, wind, rain and the action of winter freezing and thawing, they looked relatively bare and you could feel the individual grains of sand that made up the rock. Over 400 million years ago that very sand had settled to the bottom of a vast inland sea that once covered the Midwest.
But where the cliffs were shaded and more protected, a variety of smaller plants had also established a firm foothold. On some sections of the cliff, there was so much plant life that you could hardly see the sandstone. Algae, mosses, lichens, liverworts and ferns and were growing right on the rock surface. In some places the actions of these simpler plants had created a pocket of soil in which higher flowering plants could find their own little niche.
Various insects and other invertebrates find food and shelter among the cliff plants and the mini-gardens they create. Spiders set up shop as well, hoping to catch the insects that blunder by. The only thing that kept me from exploring the cliff more thoroughly that day were the numerous mosquitoes that also found the shady environment to their liking.
Before I left the rocks, I noticed evidence that bigger critters had also used the special habitat. On several ledges, there were pieces left from pinecones that had been chewed apart, apparently for the seeds within. They could have been left by a number of rodents, including squirrels, mice, voles or chipmunks.
Prairie bluffs
Several miles away in Minnesota, I looked from the road at some other rocky outcrops. These were at a higher altitude than those along the Kickapoo, and they brought to mind the word “snaky.” That is what comes to my mind when I see sandstone or limestone layers exposed along the dry bluff prairies on the sides of many valleys in the Coulee Region because they are prime habitat for timber rattlesnakes and a number of other reptiles.
Or at least they used to be. Today, there are far fewer rattlers, black rat snakes, bull snakes, racers and western hognose snakes left on the ridges where they were once abundant.
Jamie Edwards, a regional wildlife biologist with the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources, said recently that a survey done this spring showed that rattlesnake numbers in particular had dropped considerably at more than 200 former den sites in six southeast Minnesota counties.
In fact, in three of those counties the snakes are nearly extinct. Some of the other remote sites in Houston, Fillmore and Winona counties, however, showed some hope. Changes in the habitat, housing and commercial development and decades of bounty hunting have all contributed to the declines.
Edwards said Minnesota hopes to maintain a number of the still viable den sites in these counties in the future. The timber rattlesnake has been listed as a threatened species in the state and bounties are no longer given. Restoration of the bluff prairie habitat is another way the state is trying to remedy the problem.
Preserving that special environment is crucial, said Edwards, since the loss of bluff prairies affects a variety of other critters and plants species besides the rattlers. The removal of aggressive trees such as the red cedar and controlled burns are being done on public lands and with landowner cooperation on private lands as well.
Edwards pointed out the importance of public education and cooperation by private landowners to save the prairies and the creatures that live there, including the timber rattlesnakes. Fortunately, she has found that a number of the people she has met during her field work have been very willing to help once they were informed of the situation and the non-aggressive nature of the timber rattlesnake.
As I drove beneath the snaky looking hills in Winona County, I wound my way to the end of the valley where I met the present owner of the farm. He had found two rattlesnakes earlier that day while mowing his lawn and one was still there when I arrived.
At first he was going to move the snake across the valley, but he changed his mind when we wondered if the two had been preparing to mate. He put her back where he found her just in case and sure enough, they were back together again the next morning.
After a reasonable honeymoon period, he said, if they didn’t leave on their own, he would try coaxing them to move with a harmless blast from a garden hose or carry them farther away if that didn’t work. I certainly admire his tolerance and understanding. That is the sort of attitude we all need if we are to leave more of our precious wild heritage for future generations.
Wisconsin faces similar problems with its own bluff prairies and is planning the same sorts of remedies as Minnesota.
Whaditiz
Our rocks are sedimentary.
Contact Jim Solberg at (608) 782-2560 or nitefrogger@charter.net.
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