By Carolyn Szczepanski
carolyn@dmcityview.com
Danielle
Wirth became such a persistent
presence at Saylorville Lake that
an exasperated administrator finally
told her, "Wirth, you're
getting to be such a pain in the
ass, I figure if I hire you then
I can tell you to go away."
Little did he know that, 25 years
later, Wirth would be shaking
the hand of Interior Secretary
Gale Norton and receiving a national
award for her innovative work
restoring an endangered habitat
at that very same location. And
adding to the irony? Wirth doesn't
even work there anymore.
Although one of the first female
park rangers in the country, when
the Woodward resident moved to
the Midwest from a state parks
post in Pennsylvania in the late
1970s, Wirth was told she was
overqualified for local positions
and had to hound Saylorville staff
several times a week before they
hired her to run the visitors'
center for nearly a decade. After
several stints with the Department
of Natural Resources, Wirth has
settled into teaching at Iowa
State and DMACC. But this outspoken
professor's classroom is rarely
contained within four walls, and,
to aid the stretched-thin staff
of the Army Corps of Engineers,
she's enlisted a conservation
contingent of her own: community
college students.
"This land needs help,"
she remembers thinking several
years ago. "I can't do it
all myself, so what can I do in
my life that will get people on
this land? And I thought, well,
I could invent a class."
And invent she did, creating
a DMACC course comprised of a
hands-on effort to restore native
habitat. Restoration of Nature
Plant Communities started as "an
experiment," she says. But,
just three years since its inception,
it's proven popular with students
- from a graphic designer taking
the class for essentially no credit
to a West Des Moines city parks
official enrolled by his boss
- and beat out scores of other
secondary education initiatives
around the country to garner a
national "Take Pride in America"
award last month.
As Wirth points out, the pride
of the tallgrass prairie bioregion
is shared by three distinct ecosystems:
open prairie, wetlands and oak
savannas. And while wetlands and
prairies are desperately imperiled,
she says, it's the savannas that
are most endangered. Thanks to
fire suppression, grazing and
homebuilders who relish development
in such "oak parks,"
the state's savannas have been
nearly "obliterated."
"So this is rare indeed,"
she says surveying an evolving
21-acre site at Saylorville. "And
the more we're up and down this
river valley, we think we have
more savanna than we've documented.
We just don't recognize it because
they're so overgrown and ill-used.
But once you start applying these
restoration techniques - an indicator
species survey, remove the invasives,
release the seed bank and put
back the processes of fire and
hydrology - then you're really
cooking."
And the heat's been on this
southwest corner of the park since
students conducted a plant survey
earlier this year, identifying
the telltale signs of savanna
- plants like muhly grass and
wild rye growing beneath a canopy
of oak trees. Last week, even
as rain fell and a brisk wind
whipped up the hill, they continued
clearing out invasive trees (like
elms and maples) that were shading
to death the habitat-defining
oaks that need the sun to survive.
And next month, the already-eager
students will set the whole hill
on fire, scorching out the remaining
woody invaders.
But while it will still be several
years before it becomes a model
habitat that could become a common
stop for school field trips, a
healthy savanna is already beginning
to surface. The tiny saplings
of the next generation of regal
oaks are poking through the now-
sunshine-dappled soil and, on
a recent visit, Wirth was delighted
to see a crowd of rare red-headed
woodpeckers that "were just
having a blast," she says.
"So here was a threatened
species that has been helped."
But the birds aren't the only
ones having a blast; soaked in
sweat and rain, the students linger
to admire rocks, identify plants
and sing a few bars of "Let
Me Entertain You" as they
change out of their coveralls.
And while Wirth will certainly
take pride in the restored savanna
and the national recognition,
the real prize isn't restricted
to the natural world.
"My May class, we bonded
in very interesting ways,"
she says. "They call each
other. They call me. They still
get together on weekends and do
restoration for fun. It's really
a deep experience and it changes
some." CV
Comment
on this story | Return
to top |