1936 Fire
Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2020 6:23 am
This is from the IRNP Facebook page.
Island Interrupted: Double Whammy
When you’re knocked down, and then as you’re trying to get back up get knocked down by something even bigger, is it ever possible to get back to where you started?
The 1930s were trying times for the balsam fir population on Isle Royale. That tree is already munched on by moose in the winter, so stunted growth is common even in a regular year. But when the spruce budworm comes through, it leaves a wake of defoliation in its path. The larvae emerge just prior to budbreak in the spring and take their nutrition from the needles in May and June, leading to the tree’s death during serious infestations. (Contrary to the name, the spruce budworm does prefer Isle Royale’s balsam firs over its white spruce.)
If it weren’t bad enough that the balsam fir were already losing the battle in 1936, their demise put the island in a much graver position. A forest ravaged by spruce budworms is more susceptible to fire. The largest fire in the recorded history of the island burned for months, charred 27,000 acres (roughly 20%) of the island’s forests, and took 1,800 firefighters to control. Such destruction put a halt (at least for that point in time) to any further advances by the spruce budworm.
Many hiking the Greenstone Ridge today would not notice the scars from 1936. The wilderness setting woos the experiencer with a somewhat false aura of being untouched or unspoiled. It would have been hard, looking at the defoliated trees in 1935, to believe that normal would ever return. It would have been even more difficult in 1937 to not pine for the old days before everything changed. But normal did eventually return. The Greenstone Ridge is beautiful once more, complete with balsam firs.
Island Interrupted: Double Whammy
When you’re knocked down, and then as you’re trying to get back up get knocked down by something even bigger, is it ever possible to get back to where you started?
The 1930s were trying times for the balsam fir population on Isle Royale. That tree is already munched on by moose in the winter, so stunted growth is common even in a regular year. But when the spruce budworm comes through, it leaves a wake of defoliation in its path. The larvae emerge just prior to budbreak in the spring and take their nutrition from the needles in May and June, leading to the tree’s death during serious infestations. (Contrary to the name, the spruce budworm does prefer Isle Royale’s balsam firs over its white spruce.)
If it weren’t bad enough that the balsam fir were already losing the battle in 1936, their demise put the island in a much graver position. A forest ravaged by spruce budworms is more susceptible to fire. The largest fire in the recorded history of the island burned for months, charred 27,000 acres (roughly 20%) of the island’s forests, and took 1,800 firefighters to control. Such destruction put a halt (at least for that point in time) to any further advances by the spruce budworm.
Many hiking the Greenstone Ridge today would not notice the scars from 1936. The wilderness setting woos the experiencer with a somewhat false aura of being untouched or unspoiled. It would have been hard, looking at the defoliated trees in 1935, to believe that normal would ever return. It would have been even more difficult in 1937 to not pine for the old days before everything changed. But normal did eventually return. The Greenstone Ridge is beautiful once more, complete with balsam firs.