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National Geographic : 1977 Aug
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All but annihilated in Wisconsin during the Depression, when they were shot for food and their nesting grounds drained, sandhill cranes were rescued by tough state conservation laws. Here a flock roams at the International Crane Foundation (above) near Baraboo. Through studies of the now flourishing birds, biologists hope to find ways to help the survival of still-endangered species, such as the whooping crane. Raised by humans, Tex rejects the ad vances of other cranes. By keeping the female whooper company, research director Dr. George Archibold (left)hopes to increase chances she will lay an egg after artificial insemination. While in Madison, I took a flight with George Knudsen, chief naturalist for Wiscon sin's Department of Natural Resources, an other man who sees through geologic eyes. He pointed down at vast rectangular corn fields: "The glacier gave us many gifts. Those ice sheets made thousands of extra acres of farmland by rounding and filling. Those wet lands over there"-pointing to Horicon Marsh-"teem with waterfowl. In fall when the Canada geese leave, the whole landscape seems to take off. I've never seen so many live bodies outside of New York City. "Then there's the gravel and sand left by the glacier-a 35-million-dollar business here. Some of those materials hitchhiked down from northern Michigan, Lake Superior, and Canada-maybe 400 to 600 miles. Imagine the fuel and trucks it would have taken to im port them!" Congressman Pens a Trail Guide The world-renowned Kettle Moraine State Forest was my next stop on the trail. The moraine was formed at the junction of two major lobes, making an interlobate glacial dumping ground. I was joined by Congress man Henry S. Reuss and his wife, Margaret, a professor of economics. Mr. Reuss is a strong advocate of the Ice Age Trail system and the scientific reserve (page 189). He has published a hiker's and biker's guide describing both. "This country reminds me of an enormous sandbox," joked the Congressman, as we drove along the Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive. Everywhere the moraine lumped and humped along in knobs and cones of sand and gravel. "Looks like some gigantic Neanderthal brought home a load of dirt for his kids to play in." Next morning I drove on north alone along the scenic drive. Neat new country homes nestled on the wooded moraine and on the round sand-and-gravel hills called kames. Subdivision signs read Kettle View, Kettle Moraine Hills, Forest Run, Cedar Lake Hill. Milwaukee commuter development was pop ular in the Kettle Moraine country. In addition, gravel-and-sand pits were gnawed into the shoulders of the moraine and the sides of the narrow, sinuous eskers. Several ski resorts had cleared the forest on steeper slopes for their runs, and on some of the now naked knobs, ruts from trail bikes 203
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