Chad Meyers plays drums
for students from Wooster,
Hiram and Kent at Dysart Woods.
Photo by Adam Makruski
Article by Doug Antibus
On Oct. 9, a small group of Kent State students drove
to Dysart Woods to examine the last tract of intact old–growth forest in Ohio. The area of
concern is located near Interstate 70, only about 20 miles from Wheeling, W. Va. This area is unique
for Ohio. Indeed, it is unique for the entire Eastern United States. Through over 200 years of settlement,
almost all of the state’s original forests have been cut down — but this parcel was left
untouched while it remained in the same family for several generations. Eventually, the woods were handed
over to the Nature Conservancy, which, in 1967, sold it Ohio University for preservation and use as a
natural laboratory. Although only 50 acres, it is now the largest known remnant of original old–growth
forest in the state.
Dysart Woods is also located in a geologically distinct section of Ohio.
Unlike the northern two–thirds of the state, the southernmost segment was not touched by any of the
several glacial advances that have occurred in the geologic past. This has left it with a much more
varied topography than other areas in Ohio, which contributes to the unique ecosystems found there.
Shale and sandstone bedrock are typical of the region, and many seams of coal, some quite close to the
surface, run through the landscape.
The woods themselves had an immediate impact on each of
us who made the drive to see them. For the most part, visiting the woods was a calming experience. After
hiking down the first few yards of trail, we began to slow our pace. The details of the forest gradually
became apparent as we spent more time examining individual trees. We noticed insects crawling over branches,
insect bore holes in dead tree bark, and moss and fungi growing on logs lying on the forest floor. These are
the things which, although important to the functioning of an ecological community, tend to not be appreciated
until one actually spends time examining an area.
Photo by Adam Makruski
At that time of year, of course, the floor
of the forest is covered in fallen leaves, and many of the oak and maple trees threw off vibrant red and
yellow colors. The intense display of color, such a contrast from the open sky just behind us, was the
first thing we noticed. As we walked further, we began to experience a meditative, calming effect, urging
us to sit along the trail to absorb the sights and sounds coming from the old–growth forest. We were
particularly struck by the immense size of some of the dead trees we came across. The presence of huge,
ancient trees such as these is one of the hallmarks of an undisturbed forest. Even though many of the
trees are dead, they still play an important role in the ecosystem either standing among younger trees
or collapsed onto the forest floor. The oldest trees are also fascinating for the record they provide
through their scars. Sitting along the trail, we were given a chance to experience the woods with all
of our senses. We noticed the smell of decaying leaves so specific to autumn, the sound of cascading
water, and dozens of other things.
We contemplated one of the small streams, only a few
feet wide, that drain Dysart woods. The stream was full of crayfish and water–striders. It flowed
over exposed shale, in some spots cascading over ledges in the rock in small waterfalls.
Though these streams are only diminutive bodies of water, they are the surface manifestation of the
groundwater that feeds the entire woods ecosystem. The groundwater under Dysart woods is one area of
concern raised by the proposed mining. It could be affected, in both quantity and quality, by the
proposed mining. Major areas of concern include the potential of mining operations to funnel groundwater
along certain underground paths, effectively reducing its availability in other areas, and the potential
of mining to alter the pattern of seasonal changes that take place in the area’s water
table (http://www.buckeyeforestcouncil.org/articles/Geo–Hydro_Dysart_12.03.pdf).
Upon
leaving the woods, I had an experience that occurs to me every time I exit a natural area – even a
small one – and return to civilization. After spending the better part of a day in this area, I became
comfortable being isolated from most things which we think of as "civilized." When we drove out
of the woods and onto the freeway, it was as if my perspective had switched. The freeway, with the strip
malls and gas stations crowding it, now looked alien and awkward. I had temporarily lost hold of my
instincts for navigating in urban areas. Why? The best explanation I can give is that nature and
civilization each have their own, very different patterns that cause us to think and react in different
ways when in their presence. The patterns of nature are often subtle, but include the repetition of
features in rivers and streams, or the spreading of plants to areas with similar environmental
conditions. Civilization has its own, man–made, pattern, and when one begins to think really
intently in one pattern, one tends to forget the other. When I don’t visit a natural area
for a long period of time, I begin to feel deprived, like certain parts of my intellect are becoming
atrophied. One of the best general arguments that I personally can give for the preservation of
natural areas like Dysart Woods – and one that should even appeal to an anthropocentric
viewpoint – is this: Their capacity to make us think and wonder means that we humans
would be much poorer without them.
• Dysart Woods spans acres in Belmont County in Southern Ohio and is the state’s
last ancient forest with old growth trees aged up to 400 years.
• Though the Department of the Interior named Dysart Woods a National Natural Landmark, the
title offers no legal protection.
• The Ohio Valley Coal Company has plans to mine underneath Dysart Woods; those coal beds were created
286–354 million years ago and are roughly 400 feet or more under the ground.
Types of mining
• Longwall mining is a high–extraction method. A series of roads is developed underground in a rectangular
pattern through which a plough moves to remove the coal; as the machine moves forward, roof support beams quickly
collapse.
• Room–and–pillar mining is a method that creates rooms and leaves pillars of earth for support;
over time, room–and–pillar mines collapse.
The dangers of mining
• Subsidence, the sinking of ground, is a result of both longwall and room–and–pillar mining.
Subsidence causes sinkholes that damage tree root structure and local aquifers, the semi–permeable
rock that stores water to support area springs and streams.
• In 1995 in Guernsey County, a 3–meter deep sinkhole caused by a collapsed mine on Interstate 70 caused
a four–car accident.
Saving Dysart Woods
• A public hearing took place on Oct. 15 in order to halt the approach of mining operations in Dysart Woods.
• The Ohio Department of Natural Resources has not yet made a decision as to whether to stop the mining.
• Dysart Defenders (www.dysartwoods.org) and the Buckeye Forest Council (www.buckeyeforestcouncil.org) have organized
to stop the mining of Dysart Woods.
— Compiled by Chris Kok