The LRWP is often asked to identify top environmental issues facing our Central New Jersey watershed communities, and every year we develop a “Top 10” list of concerns. Through 2019 we feature one concern a month on our website and explore that issue (and potential solutions) in more detail. In our March essay we bring attention to the state’s failure to act on a mandate to rank contaminated sites. We also consider how New Jersey’s “Home Rule” decision making perpetuates inequitable restoration in our communities. We suggest watershed planning as a more equitable approach to land use decision-making.
Many poor, brown, and black communities throughout New Jersey are saddled with disproportionate legacy contaminant issues in their water and soil. They face greater flood risk and have fewer opportunities for buyouts from flood risks, and have less access to nature, parks, and outdoor space compared to wealthier communities. With respect to legacy contaminants, even when laws are on the books to clean-up our waters, soils, and sediments, time and again the poorest communities are overlooked, with priority given to wealthier watersheds.
In 2009, New Jersey adopted legislation mandating that the state Department of Environmental Protection rank every contaminated site in order of risk and urgency. This “Remedial Priority System” was to serve as a corrective to market-driven remediation that prioritizes clean-up of the most economically desirable contaminated sites. 10 years later however the agency still has not published this list.
NJDEP’s failure to act on this mandate perpetuates environmental injustices and is in violation of the law. We must hold our state agencies accountable for their failure to advance equitable outcomes. We also must consider how land use decision-making at the municipal level perpetuates environmental inequities at a broader scale.
In New Jersey, decisions about how land in a particular municipality is protected, developed, or restored are made by the municipality’s planning board and zoning board. The decision makers that sit on these local boards weigh needs for community and environmental health against the often competing goals of increasing the tax base and expanding or providing new services for municipal residents and visitors. These boards determine how to protect a town (or certain sections of a town) against siting of undesirable uses like power plants, sewage treatment facilities, landfills and incinerators. And they are often charged with making decisions about how to protect against flooding or other natural disasters. There are few tools for planning and zoning boards to use to ensure that their decisions don’t propagate local inequities. Furthermore, because of New Jersey’s “Home Rule” bias in land use decision-making, municipalities are not required to take into consideration the impact on regional growth patterns, existing or planned land uses in adjacent municipalities, or watershed and larger ecological systems impacts.
Examples of undesired regional impacts of local land use decisions include flood control decisions that displace flood waters to neighboring municipalities, and fragmentation of habitat that compromises regional environmental health. Local impacts are felt in low income communities that are not only not prioritized for environmental clean-ups, but continue to be identified for siting of locally undesirable land uses (LULUs). Recognizing this, in January the New Jersey Senate Environment and Energy Committee advanced Senate Bill 1700, which concerns environmental permitting in burdened communities. The “Environmental Justice” Bill is specific to the siting of polluting facilities (power plants, sewage treatment plants, landfills and similar), and would give individuals in our poorest communities the right to petition NJ Department of Environmental Protection for additional environmental and health impacts assessments and a public hearing on permitting processes.
Is this this the best approach we have to righting these wrongs? While any one of us should be able to bring attention to inequities in land use decision making, should the responsibility of designating a community as “burdened” fall on individuals or even on individual communities?
Perhaps other land management approaches, like regional or watershed based planning, can better serve as bulwark against provincial Home Rule interests. These approaches might also balance land uses consistent with human health, environmental, equity, and other goals.
Watershed planning demands integrated thinking and coordination. And watershed management of large ecosystems is inherently science-driven. Climate change has brought attention to the need for science-based land management. Watershed land management is a science-based approach, and watersheds play an increasingly important role in establishing a context for federal, state, and local policy. As such there is increased opportunity for watershed-level planning to guide land use decision-making in the state. Core objectives in watershed management are directly related to water (flood control, water quality and quantity, etc.). Other important objectives include maintenance of biological diversity, wildlife management, urban metabolism, restoration, general environmental preservation, recreation, economic development, and Environmental Equity.
We welcome your thoughts on how watershed-level planning (or other approaches) might be deployed to prioritize action for restoration, advance Environmental Equity, and improve the integration of science with land use decision-making.
On March 16 the LRWP hosted a clean-up of South River’s Grekoski Park and the adjacent floodplain. Despite the biting wind we had a good turn out, and cleared several dozen bags of trash and plastic from the floodplain, stream, lake bottom, lake’s edge, and wooded areas. While we cleared out hundreds of plastic bottles and dozens of tires, we did not contend with the significant legacy industrial dumping issues at the site, perhaps the most visually striking of which is South River’s “Brick Beach.”
South River’s “Brick Beach” photo taken during the LRWP’s March 16 clean-up of Grekoski Park
This brick-strewn tidal floodplain is an especially curious aspect of central New Jersey’s industrial legacy. The American Enameled Brick and Tile Company operated at this site from 1893-1934, and many of New York’s brownstones and subways were made from our Lower Raritan clay. My father-in-law’s first job in America was as a brick maker just across the river at the Sayre and Fisher Brick Company.
The American Enameled Brick and Tile Co. was established in 1893 in South River by Julius Steurberg, his son Herbert Steurberg, and Francis Booraem. With offices in New York City, they were major players in New York City’s construction. In June, 1934, the South River plant was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt.
The visual experience here is bizarre: hundreds of thousands of 100+ year old bricks “shoring up” the southern embankment of the South River. The walk across this space is likewise disconcerting. It may look like stable ground but, being tidal (photo was taken at low tide) and heavily silted from upstream erosion, the bricks shift significantly beneath your feet.
The South River floodplain is tidal and heavily silted. Photo taken at low tide.
We stumbled across another visually compelling remnant of the the brick industry at this site in the form of an abandoned rail spur. This bit of railway led from from brick manufacture to boats that would travel the short distance along the South River to the Raritan River and across Raritan Bay to New York City.
Neglected rail spur leading from the former American Enameled Brick and Tile Company to boats waiting to ferry bricks to Manhattan.
This is the first of three articles in a series about stormwater management by Kate Douthat, a third year PhD candidate in the graduate program of Ecology and Evolution at Rutgers. Kate’s research is examining the plant communities that have formed in urban stormwater systems. She is interested in the extensive stormwater infrastructure network in New Jersey and how we can use plants to improve water quality. Kate loves to share her enthusiasm about plants and to teach the public about the stormwater systems in our backyards. She has agreed to develop a series of informative blogs for the LRWP’s readers and will also lead our #booksfortheriver book club starting Fall 2019. You can see more of her writing about plants and water resources on katedouthatecology.com
When it rains, water runs
across roads, parking lots, and lawns, picking up pollutants and debris. In
order to prevent flooding in developed areas, where the soil is not absorbent
because it is covered by pavement or buildings, this runoff, termed “stormwater,”
is channeled into storm drains. In nature, wetlands play an important role in
the landscape as regulators of flood waters and sinks for excess nutrients and
pollutants that are swept up in storm water. Green infrastructure is an
approach to water management that mimics natural storage and filtering
functions of wetlands by using plants and soils rather than drains and pipes.
We don’t yet have a good understanding of which plants are best suited to green
infrastructure, so that is the topic of my research.
Once stormwater enters a drain, it can have different fates. One type of municipal sewer system is called a combined sewer system. A combined sewer system combines sewage from your house (toilet sewage) with stormwater runoff from storm drains. This creates a large volume of contaminated water that must be treated at water treatment plants. This type of system is more common in older cities in the U.S., and in 21 cities in New Jersey (https://www.nj.gov/dep/dwq/cso-basics.htm). In New Jersey, most combined sewer systems are in cities near NYC, and a few around Philadelphia. The NJ Department of Environmental Protection hosts a web map to show those locations.
Figure 1 A combined sewer system. On the left, in dry weather, sewage goes to the wastewater treatment plant. On the right, in the rain, stormwater combines with sewage. The volume is too much for the pipes and wastewater treatment plant, and a mix of stormwater and untreated sewage overflows to the river.
The second type of sewer system is a separate system. A separate system keeps sewage containing human waste in one set of pipes, and stormwater runoff from storm drains in another set of pipes. The latter has the the witty nickname MS4 (municipal separate storm sewer system). The sewage goes to a waste water treatment plant, while the stormwater is released to streams or rivers. This relieves pressure on waste water treatment plants and prevents overflows of untreated sewage. However, stormwater is usually contaminated with all of the urban dross it picks up, including pet waste, leaked gas and oil from our cars, excess lawn fertilizers and pesticides. Stormwater moves more quickly over smooth, paved surfaces than rough natural ones, so stormwater can accumulate quickly and cause floods.
Figure 2 An illustration of the different types of sewer systems. On the left: separate storm sewer system. On the right: combined sewer system.
In New Jersey and many places in the U.S., water from storm drains is temporarily stored in artificial detention basins or ponds before draining to streams and rivers. In principle this prevents the water from a rain storm from concentrating in a stream all at once and flooding its banks. A detention basin receives water from the storm sewer, then passively allows it to drain out the other side. The outlet pipe is small though, restricting the water leaving the basin to a low, steady volume. Detention basins were originally designed for flood control, but we are now realizing that they could be redesigned to provide more functions. The expanded functions for detention basins include pollutant filtering, ground water recharge, and provision of habitat.
Most detention basins are lined with grass that is mown weekly or biweekly like a lawn. In order to increase the functions of the basin, managers are changing to a mix of dense vegetation that is mown annually. This simple change can have a big impact and is the subject of my research. In my next post I’ll talk more about why I’m interested in studying detention basins, what I hope to find out, and how it can change our watershed for the better.
Article and photos by “Voices of the Watershed” Contributor Joe Mish
A white fronted goose, rarely seen west of the Mississippi river, enjoys grazing on central New Jersey grass.
Long before President Eisenhower signed the interstate highway bill into law in 1956, The Atlantic, Central and Pacific flyways served as major superhighways for migrating birds.
The primary exit ramps for these super flyways are the rivers which radiate out along the north-south migration routes to distribute the migrating birds far and wide.
New Jersey sits directly on the Atlantic flyway, bounded by the Delaware River and the Atlantic Ocean. Within the state’s interior flows the Raritan River, the longest inland river in the state which serves as a major migratory off ramp.
The confluence of the North and South Branches may then be considered the prime visitors center and rest area, as birds funnel down the Raritan to disperse inland.
Look at a colored distribution map in any bird book and discover that many species are specific to defined regions.
You might not expect to see a rufous hummingbird from the northern Pacific coast, sipping nectar in central New Jersey. However, in 2012, a rufous hummer showed up in our midst and stayed the winter, surviving by the kindness of human intervention. Marlene Scocco reached out to this wayward hummer providing food and shelter, causing a stir in the birding community which gratefully documented this migratory anomaly.
Checking the records for rare hummingbird visitors to New Jersey, other hummer species like the calliope and green violet eared were also documented.
How these birds end up on the east coast is pure speculation. The point is they do and they are here for you to discover.
Feathered visitors from faraway places to the Raritan valley are not just limited to hummingbirds. In 1963 I was handed a small owl taken from a guard tower in the Raritan arsenal. It died shortly after. I mentioned this to a friend’s dad who was an avid bird watcher. Told him it was a boreal owl. He smiled and assured me it was probably a saw whet owl. We ended up at the Newark Museum and showed it to the curator, Irving H. Black. Confusion ensued and experts from across the country were consulted. The experts concluded the bird was indeed a boreal owl. It set a new record for the southernmost sighting in the US. The boreal owl, briefly known as the Richardson owl, is a fulltime resident of the coniferous forests of the arctic region. The owl is preserved as a study skin at the Newark museum.
The visitors keep coming. In mid March of this year I noticed an inconsistency in the color pattern of a flock of grazing geese, as I drove by. The geese blended together in one giant mosaic, painted with repetitive splashes of black, white and brown. I pulled over and focused on the colors that didn’t belong.
I was looking at a white fronted goose, another bird that was obviously unfamiliar with distribution maps found in bird books.
The white fronted goose is rarely seen east of the Mississippi river, the main artery of the central flyway. To see a white fronted goose in central NJ is therefore an unexpected surprise and evidence that nature has a tendency to violate scientific generalizations.
The following week, a Canada goose with an orange and white collar marked OHOX was observed along rt 22. It also had a metal band on its left leg. While editing images, I was shocked to see the goose standing next to it also wore a leg band. Reporting this goose to the USGS bird banding website I was provided with a certificate noting that the goose was a female, banded as a flightless gosling near Varennes, Quebec, Canada on the Fourth of July, 2016.
Adding to the distinguished list of local visitors was the osprey I observed April 7, 2016, just upstream of the confluence of the North and South branch. The osprey had a blue plastic band on its left leg, with stacked letters, DV, visible on one of the images taken. Again, making a report to the USGS banding website, a certificate soon arrived, stating the osprey was born on a bulkhead in Portland, Maine and banded on July 27, 2011. To report a banded bird, visit the USGS bird banding website, bandreports@usgs.gov
The spring migration is now in full swing. And along with colorful warblers, ruby throated hummingbirds, woodcock and osprey, come the errant travelers.
Diverging from their evolutionary migration patterns, these intrepid winged visitors explode the myth that, “birds of a feather stick together”.
Migrating birds that nest in our region, along with birds just passing through, are now appearing along our waterways. The confluence that forms the Raritan River is the staging area that hosts a feathered extravaganza of unimaginable variety.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author. Contact jjmish57@msn.com. See more articles and photos at winterbearrising.wordpress.com.
Thirty years ago, my husband and I moved into a house down at the end of a quiet street in Highland Park. Beside the house, in a low area, ran a little stream, nameless as far as I knew. I imagined making a garden beside it until I saw the muddy water that rushed through after heavy rains, rooting out vegetation, clawing away at the stream banks, and depositing all manner of storm debris. I came to think of the stream as nothing but a source of problems. Years went by. I sought advice from various experts and made some progress in resolving some problems, though others remained.
Eventually, in the Rutgers Environmental Stewardship program, I learned that the problems of urban streams are predictable and can, at least in theory, be mitigated. I learned that, with active community involvement, even large rivers have been significantly restored. The RES program led me to the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership and a plan to document the stream that I now knew was called Mill Brook.
I took pictures and made lists of storm sewer outfalls, eroded portions of stream banks, retaining walls in various states of disrepair, and multiple types of litter, wondering how this information about predictable problems might be useful. Increasingly, my attention was caught by the magnificently tall trees in the Mill Brook stream corridor, the bird song high above me, the calming gurgle of the water at my feet, and the sense of being far away while actually only a few yards from the hubbub of one of the most densely populated regions in the United States. I have learned that Mill Brook has been a source of much happiness for others, too, over the years.
I composed this Story Map Mill Brook: Portrait of an Urban Stream to invite you, the reader, to experience for yourself this valuable natural resource that runs like a ribbon through our community. I hope that a virtuous circle may arise in which the value of Mill Brook is acknowledged in our communities so that we willingly do what it takes to resolve problems created by developments that include our own homes. In return, Mill Brook will increase in value to us because it is a healthier natural resource and because we will have the satisfaction of caring for it.
Article and images (except as noted) by Sanja Martic, Rutgers Department of Landscape Architecture Graduate Student.
“Man wants to take the river’s natural storage reservoir and make no compensation for it. The river contends it is against Natural Law and cannot be done. The river is right.” James P. Kemper, New Orleans, 1927.
The Dutch Room for
the River Program (RfR) was conceived in 2007 as an integrated river basin
management strategy for the low-lying flood prone and densely populated areas
of the Netherlands. As part of this Program, water management is conducted via
a specialized regional “Water Board,” working in partnership with the Dutch
National Ministry and the Ministries for Transport, Public Works and Water
Management. Through RfR the Dutch Water Board takes a four-pronged approach to
water management. The four key characteristics of the RfR approach include: 1)
large scale river region landscape architectural design thinking; 2) a focus on
collaboration, with landscape architecture playing a facilitating role; 3)
considering the landscape as a system of layers; and 4) anticipating that
natural processes will change and enhance the design over time.
As in the
Netherlands, significant portions of New Jersey’s Lower Raritan River are in
low-lying densely populated areas. Flood protection is of paramount importance
and a matter of human safety and economic security. However, the Home Rule
focus of New Jersey’s local governance limits the potential for thinking in a
landscape context, no comparable “Water Board” serves as coordinating entity
for water management, flood control prioritizes human land use layers, and
engineering controls trump considerations of natural hydrological processes and
flows. There is much to learn from the Dutch RfR example. In what follows we provide
background information on RfR, and consider the Dutch Water Management approach
in the context of New Jersey’s Raritan River and Lower Raritan Watershed.
Historic Approach to River Basin Management
In riverine areas
around the world, the industrial revolution demanded capitalization of the river’s
territory and its water. As a result, many river basins were heavily
engineered: rivers streamlined, river basins minimized, and creeks and small
streams culverted or replaced by canals[1].
These practices, in combination with development over time, resulted in
floodplains that restricted the river and required repeated heightening of
flood defenses[2].
There was no appreciation for the river ecosystems, and water was seen as a
threat and as something that needed to be controlled. Over time, conflicts arose
regarding use of the floodplain and the its water. And the Industrial
Revolution and subsequent development left behind a lasting pollution legacy:
abandoned infrastructure and degraded water and soil quality. Meanwhile, the
expanding population’s need for potable water and space for a safe habitation increased,
causing a decline in the river basin surface. In recent years, rising intensity
and quantity of extreme precipitation events associated with a changing
climate, coupled with increase of the impervious surface cover, further
complicate water management issues.
Room for the River (RfR) Emergence and Approach
In the Netherlands, traditional water management methods were challenged following destructive floods in 1995, caused by record extreme precipitation events. It was clear that new flood levels required a different approach towards river management. Different approaches to water management call for different methods: many rely heavily on engineering while others emphasize a more natural approach. Room for the River Program (RfR) finds a middle ground. Instead of gradually reducing the area that rivers occupy, this approach allows the river to expand over a larger territory[3]. RfR brings together the worlds of water management and spatial planning, engineering and ecology. Tools are varied and include dredging at one extreme, and measuring spatial quality on the other, and they are put into service of two main objectives: improving safety by reducing flooding of riverine areas, and “contributing to the improvement of spatial quality of the riverine area”[4]. Although hard to quantify, this second goal is particularly interesting from the landscape architecture perspective as it considers quality of the space.
Spatial quality
within the RfR approach is defined as “a property of the resulting landscape
after a plan has been implemented.”[5]
A good design is further judged by three criteria: hydraulic effectiveness,
ecological robustness and cultural meaning and aesthetics. Cultural meaning and
aesthetics criteria call for enhancing the scenic beauty, tailored to a range
of sites that could be classified as natural, urban or countryside. Ecological
robustness endorses designs that are long lasting, self-sustained, build upon
natural processes, and are low maintenance. This is achieved through combining
natural hydrology with morphological and biotic processes to achieve stability
in riverbed and floodplain.[6]
This means that plans have to be functional in the case of floods, but at other
times must accommodate livability, wildlife habitats and areas usable as a public
good. Design is informal and natural while providing maximum access for recreation,
with spaces intended to reveal the spirit of each individual site of
intervention.
Room for the River (RfR) Implementation and Practical Measures
In the Dutch
model, spatial quality assessment requires development of a special Q-team
(quality team) composed of members from different but complimentary
disciplinary backgrounds. The Q-team’s role is to produce an independent
recommendation on enhancing spatial quality through coaching designers and planners,
peer review of the designs and plans, and regular communication to the
Ministries of Transportation, Public Works and Water Management[7].
This calls for significant transdisciplinary cooperation between planning and
design, with an equal role for the landscape architect, urban planner, river
engineer, ecologist and physical geographer. Practical measures (Figure 1) are
applicable at large scale and fall into three categories ranked by complexity
of integration of flood risk measures with spatial measures. These categories
include technical measures (deepening the river bed, lowering groynes,
strengthening dikes), measures within the banks (lowering the floodplains,
removing obstacles), and measures beyond the banks (high-water channel
building, dike relocation, water storage). In addition to evaluating project’s outcome,
the team also evaluates the quality of the integrative collaborative design
process.
Figure 1: Different types of measures in the RfR program Source: Practical Measures, from Room for the River Fact Sheet
Precedent for RfR in the United States
The RfR approach
is not entirely new to the United States. An early similar effort was forwarded
in New Orleans in 1927, following devastating flooding events in the
Mississippi River delta. Like the Dutch who relied on dikes for flood
protection, the Mississippi delta community relied on constant raising and
enforcing levees, increasingly restricting the surface size of the natural
flood plain. The 1927 flood prompted a reevaluation of the Mississippi River
management approach. Official Congressional hearings were held and involved the
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, the Mississippi River Commission and expert
witnesses such as Gifford Pinchot[8].
Discussion revolved around engineered control of the river proposed by the Army
Corps of Engineers, and an approach in which nature would be allowed more
leeway[9]
supported by Pinchot, James Kemper and others. The latter view resembles the
RfR approach as it calls for allowing more room for the river through widening the
flood plain.
RfR Methodology
1. Large-Scale Design (Entire river region)
The large scale landscape architectural design approach considers “not only detailing of small-scale elements, but also at the scale of the river system as a whole”. [10]
2. Collaboration
The landscape architect plays a central
role of coordinator between planners, architects and other partners. Fliervoet
and Den Born studied and evaluated the RfR’s collaborative process from a
stakeholders’ perspective. They concluded that the success of the approach is
highly dependent on the cooperation and collaboration of multiple entities
occupying the watershed with emphasis on the local knowledge. The biggest
obstacles to collaboration stated by the participants, were the lack of an
overarching, integrated maintenance vision and a lack of coordination between
the authorities.[11]
3. Considering the Landscape as a system of layers
o Basis of Landscape (soil, water,
ecosystems)
o Network Layer (roads, waterways energy
infrastructure)
o Occupation and Land Use (living,
working, recreation)
o Time Layer (all layers develop within their
own time scale)
4. Creating Conditions: Responding to natural
processes
Natural processes
are expected to change and enhance design over time.
Applying the RfR Methodology to the Raritan
Large-scale Design of the Raritan River Floodplain and
Regional Network
The first characteristic,
the large scale of design as applied to the Lower Raritan, requires creating a
comprehensive masterplan with projects spanning the entire Raritan watershed. RfR
site plans would become small parts of a large Raritan Watershed Masterplan. The
masterplan would be guided by a comprehensive vision of integrated water
management, with a regional greenway connection as an integral part. Directly
connecting the City of New Brunswick to the greenway network would be a key
component of the masterplan, as New Brunswick is the largest settlement on the
banks of the Raritan River. Collaboration between many governing bodies is
essential. At the federal level the governing bodies to involve include USACE,
USCG and the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. At a state level
governing bodies to involve include NJDOT, NJDEP and Land Use Regulations and
Ecological Services Field Office. Regionally the Delaware and Raritan Canal
Commission and counties such as Middlesex, Somerset, Hunterdon and others
should be involved. At the local level the municipalities along the Raritan
River banks including New Brunswick, Piscataway, Franklin Township etc. would
require representation.
Large scale design requires examination of large-scale network connections. Analysis in the Raritan River context reveals several greenway network opportunities (Figure 2). Metropolitan areas of New York City and Washington D.C. are roughly framed by the Appalachian Trail to the North and the proposed alignment of the East Coast Greenway to the South. They are further enclosed by the major East Coast rivers that bisect the Trail and the Greenway on their way to the Atlantic Ocean. The Hudson River Valley to the East, the Delaware and Lehigh National Heritage Corridor, and the Chesapeake and Ohio Canalto the west all form a regional trail system matrix. This blue and green matrix provides unique opportunities for cross connections of the corridors and interactions with nature and culture to one of the world’s densest contiguous urban populations.
The East Coast Greenway is an aspiring walking and
biking route stretching the length of the US East Coast with southern terminus
in Key West, Florida and northern Maine. Once actualized, the East Coast
Greenway will be 3000 miles long and epitomize the bond between communities and
nature by connecting the exist green open space along its route into a unique
linear corridor. Initiated in 1991, with forming of the East Coast Greenway
Alliance, the vision of Greenway designers, “represents a commitment to public
health, environmental sustainability, economic development, and civic
engagement”[12].
The existing Appalachian National Scenic Trail, which
partially passes along New Jersey’s northern border, is currently the longest
hiking footpath in the world at 2190 miles long[13].
It was first proposed by a regional planner Benton MacKaye in a 1921 document titled “An
Appalachian Trail: A Project in Regional Planning”. MacKaye’s vision initiated the idea of land
preservation for the purposes of recreation and conservation. The idea started to materialize in 1925
and was actualized in 2014 when the last stretch of the Trail was formally
acquired and protected. Today, the trail
is visited by over 3 million visitors a year as it bisects fourteen US States
from Georgia to Maine.[14]
The East Coast Greenway’s proposed alignment crosses
the narrow waist of New Jersey using the D&R Canal Park as a major
junction. Canal Park’s Masterplan recognizes the most important quality
possessed by this linear park to be the role it can perform as a connector.
Canal Park no longer links New York City and Philadelphia, but it does join
central New Jersey communities, different land forms and different kinds of
natural areas, and connects New Jersey with its heritage[15].
Extending the Canal’s connection back into the city of New Brunswick would
align with the Canal Commission’s Masterplan and benefit New Brunswick’s future
development.
The Delaware and Lehigh National Heritage Corridor
runs along the Delaware River on the Pennsylvania side, parallel to the D&R
Canal Park. It is an indirect connection between the proposed East Coast
Greenway, through the D&R Canal Park to the Appalachian Trail. It is also an
example of a linear park run by a nonprofit organization, while Chesapeake and
Ohio Canal is a linear park that is part of the National Park system. The Chesapeake
and Ohio Canal is another significant connector between the Appalachian Trail
and the East Coast Greenway close to a major metropolitan area.
When the Delaware and Raritan Canal was built in the
1930s it permanently linked the Delaware and Raritan watersheds, creating opportunities
for connection. Since that time, construction of Route 18 through New
Brunswick, which established a several mile stretch of roadway immediately
adjacent to the Raritan, severed this historic network connection, in
particular in the area between Buccleuch Park and the Landing Lane Bridge. Today,
the City of New Brunswick’s unique geographic position could once again benefit
future development should access impediments to the D&R Canal Park be
removed, resulting in expanded access to not only Canal Park but regional
networks like the East Coast Greenway. There would be many mutual gains: the local
community would have better access to nature and everyday recreation and
day-hiking without having to drive to the trail. New Brunswick’s rich local
history would add to the richness of the trail’s experience. The local economy
would benefit from hiking and biking traffic generated by the Greenway.
Finally, being a part of the future East Coast Greenway’s shared vision could
be an invigorating driver of the nature stewardship and future community and
economic development.
Figure 2: East Coast Greenway Network Opportunities
Collaboration of Local, Regional, National and State
Partners
Collaboration and
coordination, conducted by a landscape architect, may include working with a
variety of professional partners on a local level. In addition to planners and
architects, other professions to engage include social scientists, geographers,
ecologists, river engineers, biologists, historians, archeologists and civil
engineers.
Considering the Raritan River Floodplain and Watershed
Landscape as a system of layers
The RfR “system of
layers” approach consists of a base layer, network layer, potential for use
layer and time layer (Figure 3). Layers provide a basis for site evaluation within
the Lower Raritan. Expanding the original RfR methodology, we have conceived of
each of the four categories of layers as worth 25 points for a total of a
100-point evaluation system. The lower the score for specific site, the better
the opportunity for enhancing it.
Figure 3: Adopted Diagram of Layers of Landscape
For example, considering New Brunswick in relation to the regional greenway network, the four areas identified as having the best opportunity for creating connections between the New Brunswick and regional greenways are the Key Connector Streets (Urban Core Green and Blue Corridors), Waterfront Access Points, Raritan Bike Path, and the “D&R Canal Link”(Figure 4). These] specific sites should then be evaluated for their soil, water and air quality within the base layer, and for the existing roads, railroads, bridges/tunnels, walking and biking paths and green networks within the network layer. The Network Layer evaluates the existing networks presence and connectivity. Points (0-5) are given for the presence of the networks within the site and more points for their current connectivity. All the sites have a presence of at least one network, however in some cases those networks are enhancing and in others reducing walking and biking connectivity. Increasing connectivity becomes a goal for this layer.
Figure 4: Simplified Connections Diagram
The Base Layer
evaluates the soil, water, air, plant and animal life conditions of the
landscape. 0-5 points for soil quality are allocated depending on its
permeability as well as its ability to support life. In the urban environment
soil is often covered by pervious surface or is heavily compacted resulting in
a low rating. Water movement is evaluated based on the speed of its movement
within the site. Faster movement (poor infiltration) is rated lower. Water
quality is associated with the ability of site to treat the stormwater runoff.
Water that leaves the site cleaner results in higher points. Air quality
depends on the site’s micro location. Sites near major roads with little
vegetation are rated lower. Finally, existence of plant and animal life is
rated depending on a level of presence. Based on the rating, design goals that
emerge are: increasing surface permeability, slowing down runoff by retaining
water in the landscape for longer periods, decreasing soil compaction, and creating
conditions that support more plant and animal life.
Our addition to
the methodology also includes expansion of the “potential for use layer” by
which each of these sites are evaluated for their potential to support any of 25
different activities that could take place within the area once it is
redesigned. The Potential for Use Layer allocates one point for each activity
that can currently take place within an area. The goal for this layer becomes
increasing the number of future potential use of the space.
Finally, the time
layer evaluates presence of historic and cultural artifacts on one end and a
potential for future ecosystem health improvement on the other. Sites that
contain historic and cultural artifacts are rated higher, as well as the sites
that will be able to, over time, enhance the ecosystem health. Ecosystem health
is prioritized over the existence of historic and cultural artifact. For
example, a city street has less potential for the improvement of the future
ecosystem health than the river bank.
Figure 5: Proposed Connections Diagram
The redesign of
the existing key connector streets within the City of New Brunswick enhances
the biking and walking experience, while leading to the waterfront access
points. Commercial and Joyce Kilmer Avenues are green corridors, chosen for
their proximity to the local schools, green open space, highest population
density and wide traffic lanes. These two thoroughfares have a great potential
for “road diet” interventions, such as narrowing traffic lanes and adding
bumpouts at street crossings in order to calm traffic and thus enhance safety of
pedestrian and bicyclists. They would further create opportunities for bringing
nature closer to the local communities by becoming way finders for the Raritan
River as well as the green corridors with more pervious surface and vegetation
(Figure 5).
Existing Roadway Surface
Bike lanes, pervious surface
Figure 6: Green Corridor Intervention Source: Oregon Bicycle and Pedestrian Guide
Route 27 or French
Street and Hamilton Street are already main routes of access that are further
enhanced by adding new and improving existing bike lanes, and improving
pedestrian experience by adding bump outs and lowering curbs. Similar
interventions could be applied outside of the immediate study area. Franklin
Township’s Franklin Boulevard is the next such opportunity. The existing Mile
Run stream corridor, in conjunction with the key connector streets, forms a
matrix of river connections. The Mile Run stream corridor is now accessible
through this matrix, offering further opportunities for engagement with water
and nature.
Figure 7: Bumpouts add sidewalk space, provide space for rain gardens, bike parking, etc. and shorten crossing distance. Minimum width lanes slow traffic.
Source: “Main Street: When a Highway Runs Through it”, Oregon Downtown Development Association
Access to the waterfront
is strengthened using various traffic calming techniques such as raised,
textured crossings, lowered speed limit and narrowed traffic lanes. These
approaches ensure safety and an enhanced pedestrian experience. Redesigning the
Raritan bike path by adding access points, widening its surface, and adding
small, localized interventions helps create a sense of place and wayfinding.
Materials and forms chosen for intervention help to further connect community
to the unique industrial and postindustrial history and ecology of the place.
Finally, the “Canal Link” links fragmented biking and walking paths ending
within the area of the River Road, Landing Lane, Buccleuch Park and Spillway,
through an elevated walkway bridging the impediments. This walkway becomes the
final interlocking link restoring connection to the D&R Canal Park, East
Coast Greenway and the Raritan.
A final key characteristic of the RfR program requires considering how including natural change over time can be integrated in the designed system, so that it could start functioning as a natural system. Within the landscape architecture field, time is always an important element considered in designing a landscape. The question: “How will a landscape change throughout the years?” is a core design consideration. However, change is usually considered as it relates to human use and needs. In the RfR case the emphasis is on the health of the entire ecosystem, and the ability of landscape to be “managed” by natural processes, thus making it self-sustained and supportive for all living beings. Choices of materials and forms should be made considering this final concern.[
[11] Fliervoet,
van den Born, and Meijerink, “A Stakeholder’s Evaluation of Collaborative
Processes for Maintaining Multi-Functional
Floodplains.”,p 185.
The LRWP is often asked to identify top environmental issues facing our Central Jersey watershed communities, and every year we develop a “Top 10” list of concerns. Through 2019 we will feature one concern a month on our website, exploring that issue (and potential solutions) in more detail. This month we consider the problems caused by culverting, piping, developing over or otherwise “hiding” our streams, and provide strategies through which we can find them again.
The Lower Raritan Watershed is full of ghost streams. Entrepreneurs, town councils, industry, and home owners have long buried streams to develop their land and businesses, to expand their towns, to build their homes, and to address public health concerns. The result is centuries of piping, culverting, construction, and development that have hidden the vast majority of streams and rivers in our urban landscape.
“Lower Raritan Change: 1893-1995” This graphic show gradual encroachment of development and associated disappearance of tributaries to the South River and Raritan River over a period of approximately 100 years. Sanja Martic, 2017.
The impact of “hiding” so many of our streams is devastating. Lower Raritan communities are alienated from our waterways and historic ecologies, habitats are degraded, water quality is compromised, and stormwater runoff and flooding intensify. Not only in the Lower Raritan, but throughout the United States and globally, these impacts are most acutely felt in areas with low socioeconomic status and vulnerable populations. In the face of climate change and increased precipitation and runoff, these communities bear disproportionate risk and adaptive burden.
We know that healthy, open streams play an important role in stormwater management. In a healthy stream, stormwater gets absorbed and gradually released by soil and plants. An open stream not only slows and controls stormwater surge, it also provides habitat for wildlife, and provides the aesthetic benefits of cool spaces and greenery.
A Stream (Mile Run Brook) Runs Under It Flooding on Joyce Kilmer Avenue at the Mile Run Brook culvert strands students at New Brunswick’s Greater Brunswick Charter SchoolPhoto: Charlie Kratovil, 2016
What is a culvert? A culvert is a tunnel carrying a stream or open drain under a road or railroad.Stagnant water in Mile Run Brook under New Brunswick’s Hamilton Street culvert. Photo: Heather Fenyk, 2019
Streams, especially small ones, also play an important role in improving water quality. A healthy stream ecosystem can remove excess nutrients, sediment, and other contaminants from water before it flows into our Rivers, Bays or Oceans. Recent research by the Environmental Protection Agency found that nitrates—nutrients that can become pollutants—travel on average 18 times further in buried urban streams than they do in open streams before they are taken out of the water column. This means that in areas with many buried streams like the Lower Raritan Watershed, larger water bodies including Raritan River and Raritan Bay receive more pollutants than if the waterways upstream were open and healthy and serving to filter pollutants as stormwater runoff travels its course.
Except for the smallest tributary, all branches of Mill Brook first meet daylight at the end of concrete pipes.Outfalls of, from left to right, Mill Brook’s main branch, the South Tributary, the North Tributary, and the Kilmer Tributary (Highland Park and Edison).These photos are part of Susan Edmunds’s Storymap: “Mill Brook: A Portrait of an Urban Stream”
Of course the best first action with respect to keeping streams healthy is to avoid culverting, piping, constructing over or otherwise developing them. However, in already heavily developed areas like the Lower Raritan Watershed, much damage has already been done. In some of our Lower Raritan towns more than 50% of surfaces are paved over, including all waterways that were in evidence on maps from the 1800s.
Change in time in impervious cover in the Lower Raritan Watershed from 1995-2012
Walk down most any of our main streets and you are likely to “walk on water” without any awareness of what is beneath your feet. If you pay careful attention however, as students did during our 2018 summer camp, you can hear the streams and trace their course, even if you cannot actually see them. Learning about our landscape, and “finding” our hidden streams is the next best action to take in protecting them.
Lazos America Unida/LRWP Summer Camp looks for the buried Lyell’s Brook
Learning to decipher our landscape, and trying to “find” our hidden streams are central to the LRWP’s new #lookfortheriver campaign.
The LRWP is building the #lookfortheriver campaign to bring attention to the problems of “hiding” or disappearing our streams, and to identify ways of finding them again. In addition to teaching folks about the landscape in fun ways, this involves collecting stories by volunteers and contributors who take the time observe and document their area streams, and who highlight the great benefits of landscape connectivity. Joe Mish’s most recent February essay is a great example: Along the South Branch Connected. Margo Persin’s year of blog post’s about Ambrose Brook is another.
#lookfortheriver activities include our newly launched “Watershed Highlights and Hidden Streams: Walking Tours of the Lower Raritan Watershed,” to be led by Rutgers Professor and LRWP Board Member David Tulloch. These walks will look at landscape connections to our waterways and what this means. The series kicks off on Sunday March 16 close to the Rutgers campus, with exploration of the connections between Buell Brook and the Raritan, connecting Johnson Park and the historic Raritan Landing with the Eco Preserve.
#lookfortheriver includes working with volunteers to understand how our landscape works, where it doesn’t, and how to fix the problems we observe. Susan Edmunds’s research into the history of Mill Brook, and her careful study and documentation of the stream (see her online Storymap Mill Brook: A Portrait of an Urban Stream) lends tremendous insight into landscape functions of a relatively forgotten stream. Susan will present on this project in at the Highland Park public library on Sunday March 24. Joining Susan will be Rutgers student Jillian Dorsey, who will highlight findings from her thesis research on Mill Brook that shows how property owners can protect their urban streams. We hope these efforts will further mobilize municipal action to restore local streams, and that they will inspire homeowners in proper maintenance of waterway-adjacent homes. In fact, this work has already inspired the Highland Park Council to partner with the LRWP for a multi-site clean-up of Mill Brook, scheduled for Sunday May 12 – please save the date!
The legacy of development, culverting and piping that has hidden our streams exacerbates flooding and pollution transfer. It has disconnected us from our waterways and from our land. This is disastrous for our communities, but we are learning new ways “find” our streams again and fix these problems. Join us in online to discussions, at meetings, or for our “Hidden Streams Walking Tours”. Or simply start exploring the watershed on your own. Give close attention to landscape cues – the sound of rushing water in a storm sewer, collections of sediment and debris in low lying areas, and dense growth of trees and weeds. In this way we connect to our landscape and waterways, imagine their past, and can begin to plan for a future of “finding” and restoring them.
Article by LRWP Raritan Scholar Intern Daniel Cohen
Highland Park resident Susan Edmunds is the first “Streamkeeper” for the Mill Brook, a tributary of the Lower Raritan Watershed.
LRWP Streamkeeper Susan Edmunds, a 30 year resident of Highland Park, lives adjacent to a tributary of the Raritan River called Mill Brook. During the time Susan has lived alongside the Mill Brook, she has become committed to the environmental sustainability of this stream. As part of a Rutgers Environmental Stewards program internship, conducted with the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership, Susan documented the condition of the Mill Brook through historical research and photography, synthesizing this information in an online “storymap” titled Mill Brook: Portrait of an Urban Stream.
Susan is a strong advocate for what she terms “a new understanding” by all stakeholders in order to remedy the serious threats which endanger the environmental viability of the stream. I walked along the waterway with her as she highlighted several major environmental challenges facing Mill Brook. These include illegal dumping of commercial and residential trash, and wash off of chemical herbicides and fertilizers from nearby lawns into the stream. This wash off is part of what is called “non-point source pollution,” and includes not just herbicides and fertilizers, but also animal waste, motor vehicle oil and other chemicals.
As we continued walking downstream, Susan told me that in recent years Mill Brook has experienced intensified erosion and flooding events. She pointed out the proliferation of driveways, parking lots, and walls — what is known as impervious surfaces — that prevent the natural absorption of rainwater into the soil and results in “stormwater runoff.” She then explained how excessive amounts of stormwater runoff exacerbates erosion of lawns and damage to residential structures, and also carries downstream pollution in the form of silt and gravel and non-point pollution.
Even before becoming part of the LRWP’s inaugural team of Streamkeepers, Susan has long been committed to restoring the natural beauty of Mill Brook. She regularly removes debris from its banks, and replaces invasive plants with native flora. In her role as Streamkeeper she has added regular monitoring and reporting on stream health. She understands that while her isolated efforts are important, care of Mill Brook requires a long-term commitment by Edison and Highland Park residents as well as municipal authorities.
Susan sees that inspiring a collective commitment to the health of Mill Brook is a crucial part of her role as Streamkeeper. Her goal is to encourage others to appreciate the Mill Brook as much as she does. She strongly believes that when residents learn about and visit the stream they will be motivated to care for it. In this sense she says she hopes her tenure as Mill Brook’s formal Streamkeeper will be short – and that her work will inspire someone else to become a steward and “Streamkeeper” of the stream.
Susan gave me examples of other stewardship she would like to see. For example, schools in the vicinity of the Mill Brook should encourage students to participate in restoring the waterway. And homeowners and business owners who live and work in proximity to the Mill Brook should treat the waterway as the living system it is, and give it room to serve as flood control and to allow for native riparian habitat (not lawns!) to become established. Susan believes that small steps like these will not only help ensure the environmental sustainability Mill Brook, but of all of our endangered watersheds.
As elated as Lewis and Clark upon reaching the Colombia River, Jimmy and I proudly pose with our intrepid craft , “The Wild Turkey”, in the back of an old Ford Pickup
The eternal waters of the South Branch flow with memories and reflections, kept safe for those who have opened an account along its banks and written their story upon its waters.
I have a longstanding account, opened years ago, from which I make occasional withdrawals. The memories are recalled, polished with reflection and returned for safe keeping.
Hazy events, prompted by a scrap of paper that fell from one of my books, brought a canoe journey made decades before, into sharp focus. The lined, yellow paper, in my handwriting, was a record of time and places noted on a trip down the South Branch to the sea with my good friend Jim Serchio.
Jim worked across the hall from me in the pharmacology department at J&J. Intrigued by my stories of paddling solo to the mouth of the Raritan River; Jim recruited himself to join me on another run to the sea.
A hasty plan was hatched and a day chosen. We would launch from Main st in Clinton and paddle down to Keasbey. I would then walk to ‘Billy Vack’s Loop In’, an old iron workers bar located under the Parkway bridge, phone my brother-in-law, and get a ride in his pickup truck to my parent’s home, about three miles away.
The chosen canoe was my old canvas covered 1910 Old Town OTCA 16 named the “Wild Turkey”. Now stripped of canvas and covered with fiberglass, the hull was painted a flat, dead grass green and weighed in at about 85 pounds.
No cooler, just a couple of blue cushions and two guys in the canoe headed downstream. Jim was brilliant guy, studying biomedical engineering. I suppose it was his scientific inquisitiveness which finally prompted him, once we were underway, to ask, how long would the trip take. In my best carefully calculated estimation, I answered, “pretty much all day, we should be there before dark”.
As we passed under interstate 78, just after launching, I noted the time on my scrap of paper. Every time we passed a landmark, clock time was recorded.
Route 202 was reached at 9:23 am.
Looking over the sequence of shorthand notes, I now realize we had paddled under and over landmarks that are now gone or restored differently from their original form. Many of the metal bridges have been reconstructed over the years, their fieldstone supports now replicated by fieldstone veneer. I counted five bridges between Clinton and rt 31. The old dam we portaged below Dart’s mill is now essentially washed away. One bridge downstream of Neshanic station was not yet constructed. The scenery on the same trip today would be quite different.
Route 206 was reached at 1:09 pm
One entry made at 2:45 just before the second downstream pass under interstate 287 makes me smile; I wasn’t smiling then. I recorded the word ‘surgery’.
There was the wreckage of an old wooden bridge just before the last pass under I 287. It blocked our passage so we had to go up and over. As we set the heavy boat down on the rough planks, we did not see a huge spike that punctured the hull below the water line on the starboard side. The situation was looking grim as we were about to enter tide water on the last six hours of the trip. This meant navigating a running tide and staying clear of the main channel to avoid the large wakes churned up by tugboats and deep hulled pleasure craft.
Undaunted, we set the boat back in the water and began down river to see how bad the leak was. It was bad, real bad. How were we possibly going to finish. Pulling to shore, we looked around the debris, left by high tide, for a possible solution. Seeing a piece of yellow polypropylene rope, I had a flash of brilliance. As a kid I loved playing with fire, burning all sort of material including little plastic soldiers. The drops of melting plastic would quickly cool to form rock hard globs and even make a neat hissing sound as it dripped. On a hunch, I took the piece of rope, set it ablaze and dripped the plastic into the large hole in the hull. A perfect watertight fit and we were on our way.
At 4:30 we passed under rt 27, the low water encountered from 287 to Landing Lane Bridge road really slowed our progress. Now we had to deal with the wakes of large watercraft, which showed no mercy to two guys in a canoe. The resultant waves forced us to divert course, turn the bow into the wake and then re-correct to head downriver.
We passed the old drydock across from Crab Island at 6:15 and finally reached our destination under the New Jersey garden state parkway bridge, the former site of the Keasbey Outboard Motor Club, at 7:05pm.
While Jimmy entertained the bystanders, I headed up to Billy Vack’s to call my brother-in-law.
When I returned to the boat and Jimmy, someone asked where we put in. We were actually embarrassed to say, Clinton. We figured they wouldn’t believe us.
Our ride soon arrived and we could finally relax. We did it! Paddled from the NJ highlands to the Mouth of the Raritan river in about 12 hours in a 1910 Old Town canoe pressed into service for an epic journey to the sea.
Jimmy passed away a few years later from a medical procedure gone badly.
I still have the canoe and think fondly of the epic river journey shared with my good buddy Jim. The diary of times and places serves as a reference for memories and the ever changing river landscape.
Two of three pages from the ship’s diary, documents the journey of “The Wild Turkey” and its crew, serves to sharpen the memory of a dash to the sea by two friends in a turn of the century canoe.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
Bear have no need to read signs, much less pronounce the names of obscure creeks, to figure out where they are going. They just put one foot in front of the other and see where it leads.
Two yearling bears curled up to sleep in a jumbled embrace, to form a single pile of pulsating fur, from which random legs protruded.
Upon waking, one bear walked downhill 500 paces to its right, the other 500 paces left, each bear seeking to satisfy its thirst in the nearby streams.
Rested and full of adventure, thirst satisfied, both bears began to follow their respective stream in the direction the water flowed.
One bear followed Plum Brook to Wickecheoke Creek and ended up on the Delaware River, while its sibling rambled along the Second Neshanic River, to the First Neshanic River, to the Neshanic River, to the South Branch of the Raritan River, to the Raritan River
The two streams, arising from springs, on each side of a common ridge, a mere half mile apart, lead to the state’s opposite coasts. Together the streams form a direct pathway from coast to coast.
We live in a provincial world defined by geopolitical borders, reinforced by the scale of our self-imposed home range. When we travel US route 1 in New Brunswick, we never consider that if we go straight, instead of turning into Chipotle, we end up in Caribou, Maine or the Florida Keys. Same situation as the two bears.
Whether tracing the tracks of a rambling bear down a watery trail to the coast, or a paved highway to opposite ends of the continent, we begin to see a connectivity to distant places. Artificial borders fall away and perspective comes into focus. Taken to the highest resolution, we see that celestial events in the cosmos dictate the requirements and conditions for life on earth.
Adjust the resolution and closer to home we see the Atlantic flyway, a major bird migration route from the arctic to Mexico. Events at either end of the spectrum and along the flyway, can have a dramatic impact on population dynamics of many species.
Preserved lands like the Rachael Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Maine and the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge in New Jersey are just two of many areas critical to migrating, nesting and overwintering avian activity. Private lands cannot be overlooked and must be appreciated for their valuable contribution outside established state and federal refuges and wildlife management areas.
On a smaller scale, though still expansive, is the critical need for linear greenways in an area broken into isolated segments of habitat.
Many reptiles, amphibians and furbearers are impacted. Isolated populations require a critical amount of genetic variation to remain viable into the future.
Slow moving turtles such as the bog and eastern box turtle are especially threatened. They are now exposed to predators and cars on their journey to lay eggs or migration forced by habitat loss. To celebrate the establishment of isolated patches of open space is misplaced, if a pathway is not considered.
Concerned with isolated habitat and lack of greenways connecting them, the State of NJ, Dept of Environmental Protection, Natural and Historic Resources, Div of Fish and Wildlife, has established a program to examine the impact of isolated habitat and genetic variation. Their program is CHANJ- Connecting Habitat Across New Jersey.
“The goal of this project is to collect DNA samples from a variety of native, terrestrial mammal species across NJ that represents the spectrum of movement capabilities. The genetics analysis will help us understand the impact of landscape fragmentation and road barriers on wildlife mobility.”
I have volunteered to participate and collect tissue samples from roadkill or harvested animals. Please contact me if you spot a fresh roadkill other than deer; jjmish57@msn.com
Far away places exist only in our limited imagination, programmed with a distorted sense of scale. Put one foot in front of the other and see where it leads.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
