To the Great Smoky Mountains, to Learn

The Nature Conservancy is in a class by itself when it comes to the environment. It has an eleven-word mission statement: “To conserve the lands and waters in which all life depends.” It has more than a million members worldwide, has protected more than 125 million acres of land (and has more than a hundred marine conservation projects), and is active in 86 countries and territories. It would be a fair statement to say TNC is the most effective environmental non-profit on the planet.

The best way to truly understand an organization as active as TNC is to take a dive into one part of it and look through a microscope. This past week I had the opportunity to do just that: I saw first-hand what the Tennessee business unit (they’re no longer ‘chapters’) is doing in the Great Smoky Mountains. Along with eleven other supporters, I got my hands dirty and my feet muddy; and asked and got answers to hundreds of questions.

We started our trek in Shady Valley, about twenty miles southeast of Bristol. Shady Valley (so named because of the mammoth pines that once were its dominant feature) is a classic example of protecting an otherwise endangered fragment of nature. The valley – roughly ten miles long and three or four miles wide – has been agricultural for more than two hundred years. It once grew more green beans than any other site in Tennessee; later, it grew prized burley tobacco.

But, in its recesses were something exceedingly rare: cranberry bogs. Shady Valley cranberries are genetically identical their New England cousins, and were pushed down by the last glacial period (12,000 years ago). Those bogs, in turn, are a major preserve of the endangered bog turtle.

Our guides through the site were Gabby Lynch, TNC Tennessee's Director of Lands (pictured at right), who explained why The Nature Conservancy acquired these lands and continues to look for opportunities to expand TNC’s holdings; and Kenneth McQueen (shown below in the blue jacket), who has been the steward of the Shady Valley Preserve for more than two decades. His father had the job before him.

We carefully walked the borders of the bog; aided in part by spoils left over from an ill-thought-out Army Corps of Engineers project to slice a drainage canal through the site – the better to make it suitable for crops. We learned that, left to their own devices, bogs will grow up in opportunistic brush. What is needed is a low-maintenance system, and that cattle fill that bill quite nicely. Fencing and cattle rotation are part of McQueen’s schedule.

The next day, we were ten miles deeper into the mountains; this time in Doe Valley. In 2005, a developer acquired 8400 acres - about 12 square miles - of mountainous forest in Doe Valley, which is located in Johnson County, North Carolina. The developer began selling mountainside lots, neglecting to tell buyers there would be no electricity, water, or roads. In 2008, the developer declared bankruptcy, owing more than $10 million including taxes never paid to the county.

In such proceedings, the usual, grim outcome is that a lumber company acquires the land in foreclosure for pennies on the dollar and, in doing so, exercises the right to harvest all of the timber.  

This case turned out differently. The Nature Conservancy acquired the land, ensuring it would never be cut for lumber. But TNC did something else: Johnson County is one of the poorest counties in Tennessee. Its principal employer is a state prison and county school system. A plan was put together to create a 'destination' outdoor recreation business. Hurricane Helene slowed its development, but the plan is now becoming a reality. Assuming it meets projections, the Doe Mountain Recreation Area (which now owns the land) will bring several million dollars each year in tourism spending and generate much-needed jobs for area residents.

There are now more than twenty miles of trails running through twelve square miles of mountainous terrain. Doe Mountain is designed to attract hikers, bicyclists, and motorized utility vehicles. The site is overseen by a board whose members (including TNC) will balance environmental preservation with the needs of adventure-seekers. My hope is that it exceeds expectations.

Our third day took us into the National Park. There, we hiked well into the trail abutting the Middle Prong of the Little River. It was an opportunity to see resilience in nature. A century ago, lumber companies essentially denuded the old-growth forests, blasting out room for railroad tracks and moveable towns, and leaving behind nothing but stumps and debris. Fast-growing poplar trees took over and, today, the forest looks – at least to the unaided eye – like the Smoky Mountains of yore. What is clear is that the creation of the National Park prevented what could well have been an environmental calamity.

Our last full day with TNC showed us how the organization links with other groups to support their work. We started at Seven Islands State Birding Park, a 416-acre preserve in Kodak (near Knoxville) with considerable frontage on the French Broad River. Once a farm, the site was acquired by a developer with plans to build an amusement park. Public pushback and work by the Audubon Society allowed it to instead remain undeveloped as an Audubon sanctuary. Six years ago, it became a state park.

Ranger Stephanie (pictured at right) took us on a two-mile walk through the park. Using Merlin, we identified upward of 20 species (the park has recorded over 220). The site has been 're-wilded' with the planting of native grasses, perennials, and shrubs. The state also utilizes annual 'controlled burns' to prevent the site from becoming completely re-forested. There are more than eleven miles of walking trails. and a pedestrian-only bridge across the French Broad River.

From there, we ventured into Knoxville to Conservation Fisheries, a nonprofit organization that collects and propagates rare and endangered species. You would think such an activity would be run by a state agency. In Tennessee, it falls to private philanthropy.

Director Bo Baxter and conservation specialist Shannon Murphy took us through the history of how fish conservation came to be in the state, starting with the deliberate poisoning of a creek in 1957 to get rid of 'trash fish' so more desirable ones could be introduced. That catastrophe, coupled with the periodic discoveries of small colonies of native fish thought to have been extinct led to the passage of the Endangered Species Act in 1973.

By the 1980s, wildlife biologists were finding pockets of distinct species of fish across the state, with many of them in areas where development made their extinction likely. In 1986, Conservation Fisheries came into being. Today, it collects, propagates, and returns to the wild more than a hundred species of endangered species of fish.

It was an insightful afternoon: Ms. Murphy (pictured at right in the black tee) is part of a team that locates, collects, and transports back to CFI the endangered species. In a relatively modest building, the fishes' environment is replicated in hundreds of tanks. Eggs are laid, fish hatch, and grow to maturity. Every effort is taken to prevent genetic inbreeding. The right food is grown and supplied in such a way that, when the fish are returned to their natural environment, they'll be acclimated.

We finished the day at a site where TNC is working toward getting permits to take down an antiquated dam on the Little River. Once used for milling, it has outlived its purpose and now serves only to block the migration of fish on the river. From TNC Director Mark Thurman (shown at left), We learned the process is long; four to five years for permitting, planning, and execution.

It was an extraordinary week: educational, fun, and with ample opportunity for exercising hiking muscles. My thanks to TNC for allowing me to participate.