July, 2005
Sucker Casserole
In honor of the late Andrew Weegar
By Jonathan Milne
Conservation sometimes comes at you from strange directions. Once, driving from the West Branch across the Shirley Road in Andrew’s somewhat worn, somewhat uninspected Subaru wagon shortly after 2 a.m. Andrew Weegar treated me to what I call the John Muir mile. Scottish conservationist Muir would routinely walk with friends in the Sierra and take more than an hour to cover a mile of linear distance. His fascination with everything natural in his path slowed progress to a crawl. To his old friends this seemed a normal part of the Muir experience, to his new acquaintances the walk seemed like an exercise in patience.
Andrew Weegar practiced a modern version of the Muir mile in a typical Andrew manner. Just as you thought you were making progress toward your final destination to lay your head down and contemplate tomorrow’s activity, the car would rapidly decelerate next to a wetland or under the feathery crown of thuja occidentalis (Northern White Cedar) to marvel at the size of the tree or further muck through the wetland looking for the a diminutive gray tree frog.
As the seasons passed I became accustomed to the likelihood that at any time progress would be halted for a glimpse of a snapping turtle nesting site or a tree with an active nuthatch cavity. We once stood along the shore of Fourth Machias Lake watching a red-breasted nuthatch enter and exit its home in a poplar for nearly an hour. Can you imagine anyone sitting for more than an hour watching a single bird species fly in and out of a nesting cavity? But that was an outing with Andrew.
These natural history “lessons” were not limited to the woods of Maine. Moving water equally captured our imaginations and progress at times was equally slow. Our enthusiasm for the Maine woods and its waterways had no boundaries because we were beginning to understand the connection between humans, rivers and land. We once sat on a pile of cedar logs above the confluence of the Big Black River and the St. John River discussing for several hours the dynamics of logging practices and their impact on the rivers, streams and brooks.
Two months ago I stood alone at the same spot and looked over an area that had grown back in my 10-year absence from the St. John River. I thought long and hard about forestry and ecology, but those thoughts drifted away with the northwesterly winds. What remained was a canoeist pondering his own impact on the woods and waters of Maine wishing his paddling partner was there to discuss the next step.
Jonathan Milne is a Registered Maine Guide and avid conservationist. He also is the Director of Outdoor Safety and Education for Colby College and the Conservation Chair for the Intercollegiate Outing Club Association. Jonathan sits on the board of directors for the Izaak Walton League and the Kennebec Messalonskee Trails.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
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