Since childhood, I’ve been fascinated with the idea of shooting skeet. I must’ve seen it in a Bugs Bunny cartoon or something. My father liked hunting, and to varying degrees, family members enjoyed the venison from his efforts. I grew up around guns and, therefore, grew up with a healthy respect for them.
During grad school, I frequented a gun range, learning to fire just about everything it had. The unfortunate context for my interest at that time was that someone in my life had made threats with a firearm, and my thinking was that if I had to take a gun away from someone, I’d better know how to use it. What I didn’t expect was how much I enjoyed learning about the different weapons and firing them under safe conditions at a gun range using paper targets.
With stationary targets, I’m a decent shot. Still, I longed to try something like skeet, with moving targets. After not shooting for 20 years, I decided to cross skeet off the ol’ bucket list. I called Central Virginia Sporting Clays, and my education began. There are several popular shotgun sports: trap, skeet, and sporting clays. The main difference is how the clays move. With sporting clays, they can go in any direction. I scheduled a group lesson and donned my Elmer Fudd hat.
What
Shooting sporting clays.
Why
Because I’ve always wanted to yell “Pull!” and shoot a moving inanimate target.
How it went
Many clays exploded that day.
From Charlottesville, it’s a bit of a trek to get to Central Virginia Sporting Clays in Palmyra, but IMO it’s well worth the effort. The CVSC site says map apps may not get you there, but friends joining me used their apps with no problem.
Upon arrival, we met up with our instructor who grabbed shotguns before we headed to the five-stand area. Our knowledgeable teacher explained how sporting clay shooting works, shared safety information, and distributed hearing and eye protection. The most Yoda thing he conveyed to us was that shooting sporting clays is more about relying on one’s intuition than aiming.
My friends encouraged me to go first, because they’re kind and I coordinated the outing—but probably more so because the older I get, the less I care about embarrassing myself. The five-stand area has—as you might assume—five wooden shooting stands in a row. After sidling up to a stand, the instructor demonstrated how to load the shotgun properly and coached me on my form. A remote control launched targets from clay throwers in different positions around a clearing in front of the stands. Some clays launched toward the stands while others moved away. Some crossed from the sides, and one thrower skipped clays across the ground to mimic landbound animals (sorry, bunnies!).
My goal was to hit one clay. If I did that, mission accomplished—everything else was gravy. The first clay launched, and I clipped it. I hit three out of four clays in my first round and felt like the queen of the world. But I had just been hitting the edge of clays, making small bits pop off, and I wanted to make a target explode. The instructor repeated the initial training process with each of us, adjusting for our different dominant eyes, body types, stances, and firing quirks. After he finished, we were all breaking clays. I learned that I really enjoy shooting clays—at least trying to—and that I have a proclivity to double tap. Sometimes crossing something off your bucket list results in a new hobby. I know I’ll be back.
As he prepares to step down, the founder of the Southern Environmental Law Center looks back on three decades of defending the region’s natural treasures
Ambitious and naive.
That’s how Rick Middleton describes himself 33 years ago, when he founded the Southern Environmental Law Center, a small nonprofit that would protect the air, the water, and the special places of the southeastern United States. It was 1986, and he was 39 years old.
“I didn’t have enough sense to know how challenging it was going to be to start up an organization,” he says, and he didn’t have much of a plan for how he’d build it over time, either. With thegoal of hiring about five lawyers who would work regionally out of a single office on the city’s Downtown Mall, he says his “grandest dream” was that maybe a dozen attorneys would someday come on board to support his vision.
But today, with 140 employees on his staff and nine offices on the map, Middleton has built the largest environmental advocacy organization in the South. And as one of the country’s pioneers of environmental law, this is the legacy he leaves behind as he prepares to retire this spring.
So why did he do it? The Alabama-born-and-raised University of Virginia alum says the answer is quite simple: “Love of the South.”
While there’s been much talk lately about preserving Southern heritage, history, and culture, Middleton is concerned about protecting the South as a physical place, whose treasures include the Appalachian mountains (which run through each state the SELC represents) hundreds of miles of Atlantic coast, and hundreds of thousands of acres of national forest, all of which the organization’s army of attorneys has fiercely defended.
Middleton says that of the few environmental advocacy groups that were around when founded the SELC, none knew much about the historically conservative South, nor were they interested in learning.
“The South needed an environmental advocate,” he adds, but even more than that, it needed a lawyer.
Environmental law was just emerging as a distinct field in the 1960s and ’70s, as the federal government passed a wave of landmark legislation to protect our land, air, and water. After graduating from Yale Law School in 1971, Middleton went home to Alabama, where he worked at the attorney general’s office to enforce those laws against some “pretty big” polluters like the Tennessee Valley Authority and U.S. Steel.
He then practiced law with national environmental nonprofit Earthjustice in Washington, D.C., for seven years. But while that organization was scoring some big wins on the federal level, Middleton wanted to have more impact on the place he loved the best—the South. And he decided he’d do it right here from Charlottesville.
A graduate of UVA, he knew the university brought in some of the brightest people from across the Southeast. And “I felt like Charlottesville was a unique and special place that would attract like-minded people,” aka smart and capable lawyers who cared about the environment.
Middleton admits that environmental advocacy in the South hasn’t always been easy. But he grounded his approach in staying local, tapping into people’s connection with their home.
“The way we view the world is that the environment shouldn’t be a partisan issue,” he says. We all should love and care about the places [where] we live, work, and go have fun.”
In his experience, if you can bring major environmental issues out of the national, highly polarized political world and down to a local, place-based level that people can easily understand, “I would say almost always the local public is on our side.”
Global issues, local impact
Here’s a not-so-fun fact: If carbon dioxide emissions from the six states the SELC represents were combined, the region would be the eighth-largest contributor to global warming on Earth, Middleton says.
The Southeast can attribute rising seas, loss of beaches, wetlands, and other natural resources to global warming, “but we’re also having this devastating flooding from these monster hurricanes that are clearly because of changing weather patterns from climate change. So we’re not only producing more carbon dioxide than anywhere in the country, the Southeast is [also] suffering the consequences of this.”
In other words, the region he’s worked so hard to protect is also the epicenter of the problem.
But tackling climate change is one of the big issues the SELC is equipped to take on.
“We now have an organization that is smart enough and big enough and has enough staying power that we can do things today that we never could have dreamed about 30 years ago,” he says.
Roughly 12 years ago, the SELC created a strategic plan to reduce carbon dioxide emissions across its six states. And, Middleton says, they’ve done it.
Twenty staff members are currently working on the project, which began with Environmental Defense v. Duke Energy. In this case, SELC attorneys represented the Environmental Defense Fund, Sierra Club, and Environment North Carolina when Duke wanted to rebuild and extend the life of a dozen of its coal-fired power plants without installing new legally required pollution controls.
They took the case all the way to the Supreme Court, and won—a unanimous victory that required power companies to always install new pollution controls on rebuilt plants, and set off the largest power plant cleanup in U.S. history. Since 2010, the SELC and its partners have reduced one-third of the Southeast’s coal plant capacity by pressuring companies into retiring their plants.
“The reduction [of emissions] has been something like 30 percent,” Middleton says. “I mean, it’s incredible.”
Going forward, the SELC is working on the South’s first carbon cap-and-trade program for power plants. If adopted, it will give utilities incentives to opt for low- or zero-carbon energy resources.
Building the team
But before there was a staff of 140 people who could tackle such large-scale projects, there were just three attorneys.
The first to join Middleton’s fledgling organization was David Carr, a Princeton grad with roots in Albemarle County. Carr had graduated from UVA’s law school in 1983 before moving to Seattle, where he practiced general business litigation and did some business advising.
But what he really wanted to do was environmental law. At the time, there were few jobs available in the field, so when a friend saw an ad for the new SELC, he jumped on it. About a month later, he was back in Charlottesville.
He was 30 years old. Now he’s 63, focuses primarily on alternate energy and protecting wilderness, and is one of the first names that usually surfaces when asking about the enormous impact the law center has had on the Southeast.
“It all happened pretty quick,” says Carr, who had no idea he’d spend the rest of his career at the organization. Middleton had secured a grant and funding for only three years. “We didn’t know if we’d be in business three years down the road —at least I didn’t.”
But it wasn’t long before Kay Slaughter, whom Middleton recruited from UVA’s law school in ’86 and who would serve as Charlottesville’s mayor 10 years later while still at SELC, turned their duo into a trio.
Slaughter, who retired in 2010, says the three lawyers focused on bringing their knowledge of federal environmental laws to city and state laws in the South.
“We’re certainly a very different organization than we were when there were three of us,” says Carr, but he commends Middleton for maintaining a sense of camaraderie and collegiality as the organization grew.
Middleton built a management committee to help him lead the staff as it sprawled across six states, while still holding onto his original vision of protecting the South’s environment and the people who depend on it for their wellbeing at a local level. And he’s maintained high standards across the board for SELC’s work, whether that be its legal advocacy, fundraising, or communications, Carr says.
“That’s been the secret sauce.”
Like Middleton himself, many of the attorneys who work for him are motivated by their love for the outdoors, and Middleton has always encouraged—even insisted—that they get out and visit the places that they’re working on, Carr says.
Getting boots on the ground can give attorneys a visceral sense of the particular place, stream, mountain, or beach they’re fighting to protect.
“Plus,” says Carr, “it’s good for the attorney’s outlook and spirit to get out of the office and enjoy the places that they’re working on. …A lot of my best memories in working with Rick have been visiting some of those places together.”
He specifically recalls an SELC-sponsored retreat to the barrier islands of the Cape Lookout National Seashore, a three-mile boat ride from the coast of North Carolina’s southern Outer Banks. It was 2001, immediately following the September 11 terrorist attacks.
About 25 SELC staff watched as fishermen reeled in an “incredible catch” of croakers and spot from the sound side of the Cape. The fish would usually be destined for New York’s famous Fulton Fish Market, but because it was closed due to the tragedy unfolding in the city, the fishermen were trying to figure out where they could sell their catch of the day.
“And on the ocean side, there were surfcasters reeling in these huge flounders,” Carr remembers. “I’d never seen flounders this big.”
He also recalls early trips to Georgia’s Cumberland Island National Seashore and North Carolina’s Cedar Island, which the SELC successfully protected from development and other destruction. Staff hikes around The Priest and Three Ridges, two of Virginia’s most popular hiking circuits, are also at the top of his list.
Because of Carr and the SELC, the Nelson County spots are now congressionally designated wilderness areas, which means they’re federally managed and designated for preservation in their natural condition.
Protect and defend
Longtime environmental advocate Ridge Schuyler, who has worked with the SELC in a couple of different roles, says Carr’s dedication to preserving The Priest and Three Ridges is a prime example of the law center’s outstanding work.
As a chief policy advisor to Senator Chuck Robb in the ’90s, Schuyler worked closely with the nonprofit to protect national parks and other forests. Later, as director of the Nature Conservancy, he worked with the SELC on protecting the Rivanna watershed, and specifically restoring healthy river flows to the Moormans River in the early 2000s.
That presented a dual challenge: protecting the river while still providing water for the community.
“Working together,” Schuyler says, “…We took what is often seen as an intractable challenge and figured out a way to solve it.”
Though this primarily involved policy and regulatory work instead of litigation, when asked if the Nature Conservancy could have navigated the situation without the aid of the SELC, Schuyler doesn’t mince words: “No.”
SELC attorney Rick Parrish brought his expert knowledge of the Clean Water Act and state regulations to guide the Nature Conservancy in developing a plan that would meet water supply needs and the law’s requirements to protect the environment, Schulyer says.
“Rick was an excellent partner during a stressful time—both good for nature and good-natured,” Schuyler says. During the course of the conversation, he also praised a string of other SELC attorneys such as Carr, Slaughter, Morgan Butler, and Trip Pollard for their passion and reputation.
Adds Schuyler, “Their work undergirds a lot of what makes Charlottesville a wonderful place and an attractive place to live.”
Grey McLean, director of the locally based, climate-change-combatting Adiuvans Foundation, has supported the work of the SELC for years. After getting to know Middleton and the attorneys, first through their projects in Virginia and then throughout the Southeast, he joined the organization’s board of trustees a few years ago.
He’s impressed by the SELC’s “extremely high degree of professionalism,” he says. “These are really committed, talented lawyers who, quite frankly, make a significant financial sacrifice working at a nonprofit, relative to working for a for-profit law firm.”
He says the reputation of their work precedes them, “and I think that has an impact on the behavior of folks who might otherwise be ready to run roughshod over the environment.”
Adds McLean, “I often think if it were not for SELC, what would happen?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but Carr suggests some answers: For starters, likely more than a million acres of wildlands and other wilderness and national scenic areas like the George Washington and Jefferson National forests would be unprotected, vulnerable to things such as pipelines, fracking, and coal mining. The Southeast might be smothered in a film of air pollution, and the shift to solar energy and other renewables might not have taken off. (Now North Carolina is ranked second in the amount of solar systems installed nationwide, with SELC’s other five states ranked in the top 25.)
“We’d probably be lagging behind the rest of the country, whereas we’re helping lead the rest of the country in those transitions now,” says Carr.
Staying power
Though he’ll remain president emeritus of his law center, Middleton is stepping down at a particularly fraught time, as the Trump administration fights tooth and nail to tear apart the protections he has defended for 30 years. But as Middleton hands over the reins to Jeff Gleason, a 28-year veteran of the organization and an expert in clean energy and air, he says the SELC is better prepared than ever to fight back.
“It’s almost like every organizational decision we’ve made in the last 30 years has been to build an organization capable of succeeding at this challenging time,” Middleton says.
One of the policies under attack by the administration is the Clean Water Act, which was passed in 1972 to regulate pollution, and is to thank for increasingly cleaner waterways despite population growth. SELC research found that gutting it would affect the drinking water supply of 2.3 million people in Virginia alone.
The president’s goal is to reduce Environmental Protection Agency oversight of what gets released into the country’s wetlands and isolated streams, seemingly because the current law doesn’t sit well with some of his base. The Clean Water Act limits how folks such as rural landowners, real estate developers, and golf course owners can use their properties, including restricting the quantity of pesticides they may use.
“There’s nobody in that administration who’s interested in protecting the environment,” says Middleton. “It’s up to us.”
Now the SELC is the central organization defending the Clean Water Act with a team of about a dozen attorneys, and thousands of environmental allies on their side. They expect their litigation will play out in the courts over the next two years, and ultimately be decided by the U.S. Supreme Court.
Middleton calls the administration “over the top” and “extreme” for things such as denying climate change and a refusal to act to reduce carbon pollution.
“There’s no rationale to it,” he adds. “It’s all just ignorance, hostility, and greed.”
Take offshore drilling as another example. It has never happened on the South Atlantic seaboard, because when former President Barack Obama initiated a plan to explore it, the SELC helped to convince more than 100 communities from Virginia Beach down to the Florida-Georgia line to pass anti-drilling resolutions, which further convinced the former administration to change its mind. Now more than 200 communities are on board, but not Trump. His administration and supporters are hellbent on extracting that petroleum.
With a sly smile, he does a quick and fairly tame impersonation of those pushing offshore drilling: “More oil! More gas! Drilling! Who cares about the coastal communities? Who cares about listening to people locally? I’m promoting maximum fossil fuel extraction. Let’s crank up the global temperature! We don’t believe in global warming!”
Now, Middleton’s law center has found itself back in the epicenter of the argument, “and this time it’s going to take the lawyers. We’re not going to be able to convince the Trump administration any other way,” he adds.
SELC attorneys currently have a lawsuit underway in Charleston, South Carolina, and just won an injunction to prevent things from moving forward until their suit can be heard. They’ll challenge any seismic testing permits that are issued, as well as a final drilling plan.
“We’ve never been so busy,” says Middleton. “And it’s never been so important, but we are winning.”
At the same time, he says the SELC must stay true to its roots: “people and place.” That means focusing on the preservation of specific communities’ unique culture and ecology across their six-state region.
“Don’t lose sight of that kind of heart and soul of who you are and why you’re doing what you’re doing,” says Middleton, who plans to spend time after retirement visiting many of the places he’s worked to protect and “spreading the good word” about the SELC.
Says Middleton, “It’s not just enough to win a case—you’ve got to win hearts and minds and values.”
Here’s what Middleton has his eye on in Virginia—and you should, too
Defending the Clean Water Act to keep pollutants out of Virginia’s streams and protecting its coastal communities from offshore drilling are top priorities for SELC attorneys. Here’s what else they’re working on across the commonwealth.
Opposing the Atlantic Coast Pipeline
Environmentalists have strongly opposed the 600-mile, $7 billion natural gas pipeline that will slice through Nelson County on its way from West Virginia to North Carolina since it was proposed half a decade ago. The SELC has also dug up mounting evidence that casts doubt on the need for a pipeline. And the organization has brought several lawsuits that have delayed the ACP’s construction, including convincing a federal court to throw out a U.S. Forest Service permit that would have allowed the ACP to cross two national forests and the Appalachian Trail. They also plan to challenge the pipeline’s entire approval permit.
Protecting our forests
A longtime champion of the George Washington and Jefferson National forests, the SELC helped draft the Virginia Wilderness Additions Act, which Senator Tim Kaine introduced a few weeks ago. If passed, it would permanently protect 5,600 acres in the Rich Hole and Rough Mountain Wilderness areas in Bath County.
Advancing clean energy
Accelerating a transition to renewable energy is an SELC priority, and it has several opportunities to do so in Virginia. Attorneys are currently defending the appeal of a March 2017 ruling that Dominion’s coal ash pits at a plant in Chesapeake are in violation of the Clean Water Act. The SELC also encouraged the administrations of former governor Terry McAuliffe and Governor Ralph Northam to propose the South’s first carbon cap-and-trade program for power plants, and will have an advisory role as the proposal moves forward. And lastly, the SELC is fighting for solar power access for all Virginians.
Greatesthits
In three decades, SELC’s attorneys have scored some significant victories. Here’s a sampling:
Moving the South away from coal
In April 2007, after a seven-year battle, the SELC won a U.S. Supreme Court case, Environmental Defense v. Duke Energy, which ruled
that power companies could no longer continue their practice of burning coal without installing new pollution controls on rebuilt factories. This ruling set off the largest power plant cleanup in U.S. history, in which the SELC also blocked or deferred companies’ plans to build seven new coal-burning units across their six states, and had a hand in the retiring of one-third of existing coal towers in the region. Carbon dioxide levels have now dropped 29 percent in the Southeast. That’s a lot.
Cleaning up 90 million tons of coal ash
Utilities generally store their toxic coal ash in unlined, leaking pits, but through SELC legal action and public pressure, utilities in South Carolina have agreed to safely store or recycle all coal ash, and in North Carolina, Duke Energy has agreed to clean up eight of its 14 sites. The law center’s suit challenging the Tennessee Valley Authority’s dumping of coal ash at its Gallatin Fossil Plant achieved a landmark ruling whena federal court, for the first time in the nation’s history, ordered the utility to excavate its toxic ash, finding it a violation of the Clean Water Act.
Saving special places
When traditional native fishing grounds on the Mattaponi River were threatened by what the SELC classifies as the largest proposed wet- land destruction in Virginia’s history, or when a proposed Navy jet training facility wanted to squash an Atlantic Coast tundra swan and snow geese habitat, attorneys were there to say, “not so fast.” So far, they’ve been able to protect and preserve dozens of these natural areas.
No acres lost
The law center defended more than 700,000 roadless acres of national forest in the southern Appalachians from logging, road building, and other destruction, and celebrated their permanent protection in 2013.
Less asphalt
SELC attorneys take the position that unnecessary roads induce unrestricted growth, and take away from funds that could address other transportation needs. Over a period of many years, they were able to halt the doubling of Interstate 81 across Virginia, a 210-mile outer perimeter of roadway around Atlanta, and a string of roads in the Carolinas such as the Garden Parkway, which would have been a limited access toll road. They’re now seeking new ways to advance forward-thinking land use strategies and steer funding toward public transit.
The Albemarle County Board of Supervisors has made it clear that, though Charlottesville’s City Council has voted to allow mountain biking at Ragged Mountain Natural Area—a city-owned park located in the county—they don’t like it one bit because county regulations prohibit activities like biking that could pollute the reservoir. As an alternative, the supes are now pushing for an accelerated opening of a new county park that could have about 15 miles of biking trails.
On the west side of U.S. 29, near I-64 and immediately south of the 980-acre natural area that surrounds Ragged Mountain Reservoir, sits the 340-acre Hedgerow property, which was a gift from the late Jane Heyward.
“Our board is really interested and excited about the prospect of Hedgerow being a great park for the entire community,” says BOS Chair Diantha McKeel. And that includes the bikers.
They’ve set April 12 as the date to discuss how to open the park and where the funding might come from, because money to develop Hedgerow is not currently in the county’s capital improvement program that finances such projects, according to McKeel.
“As currently envisioned, the Hedgerow property will be designed and developed as a multi-use trail park and will provide a variety of recreation opportunities while preserving the scenic and open-space resources adjacent to the Ragged Mountain Reservoir property,” says assistant county executive Lee Catlin, who adds that it had been Heyward’s wish to do so.
The addition of trails at Hedgerow will compensate for land and trails flooded during the elevation change of the Ragged Mountain Reservoir dam, where some of the city and county’s water supply is stored, according to Catlin.
The entrance to Hedgerow will be 2.5 miles south of the I-64 interchange and directly off U.S. 29—an aspect that worries some of the bikers who would rather ride at Ragged Mountain, whose entrance is off Fontaine Avenue with easily accessible upper and lower parking lots.
“This will not be doable for beginners, families with children and anyone who is not an advanced rider,” says David Stackhouse, a member of the Charlottesville Area Mountain Bike Club board of directors and a past president.
And while the trails and elevation at Ragged Mountain are not very steep and suitable for young and inexperienced riders, Hedgerow has a rugged terrain and an entrance that requires people to scale “a small mountain” with an elevation of approximately 1,000 feet, he says.
Rachel Thielmann, an avid biker and member of the CAMBC, is the mother of three young girls who are also on a local mountain biking team. Squeezing in riding time can be difficult, she says, but Ragged Mountain is walkable and bikable from the city. This is generally not true for Hedgerow, she says.
“How can the county even consider this as a suitable trade for biking at RMNA?” asks Stackhouse. “The concept is flawed and has little merit. The county would better serve the public if it were to suggest that the purist hikers who prefer ‘contemplative’ nature hikes should look to Hedgerow for that experience.”
He adds that hikers are the folks who resisted allowing biking at Ragged Mountain on the grounds that bikes disturb the natural area’s peace and tranquility.
“Hedgerow is perfect for the purist hiker,” says Stackhouse. “It is undisturbed, has no water tanks, no RWSA pipes, no old or new dams, no 170-acre artificial lake, and no highway running through it, and it is isolated from neighborhoods and developments.”
This land is your land
Ragged Mountain Natural Area is owned by the city and located in the county. Though City Council voted 3-2 to allow mountain biking and trail running on the property, the county’s Board of Supervisors has argued that it has jurisdiction over the land. With a current difference of opinion between city and county attorneys, the legality of such activities at Ragged Mountain is up in the air.
Albemarle’s Board of Supervisors Chair Diantha McKeel puts it like this in an open letter to city and county residents:
“Imagine if the county purchased land within a residential city neighborhood in order to establish a county-owned urban park. Then, based on its ownership of the park, the county decided to allow a use that was prohibited by the city. As an extreme example, assume that the county decided to allow riding motorcycles in the park at any time. The city would justifiably feel that its authority over the lands within the city was being violated by the county. The Board of Supervisors’ expectation is that City Council will respect the county’s sovereignty and its regulations, regardless of whether the City Council and city staff disagree with those regulations.”
Although increased bear sightings this year in Shenandoah National Park are causing some visitors to worry, park officials are offering insight into why that’s happening, as the height of black bear activity winds down during the late summer months.
Rolf Gubler, a wildlife biologist at the SNP, estimates there have been between 30 and 60 incidents involving bears this spring and summer, about twice as many as normal, all varied in nature and severity.
“It could be anything from a food incident or a persistent bear that follows a hiker or approaches too closely or the dog-bear incident in the Dickey Ridge area,” Rolf says.
Rolf is referring to an encounter in early August that left one dog dead on Snead Farm Fire Road near the Dickey Ridge Visitor Center. According to a press release, a hiker was walking with two dogs on retractable leashes when the three encountered a mother bear and cubs. When confronted by the bear, the hiker ran. That’s when, according to the release, the mother bear attacked the trailing dog, which later died of its injuries.
The Snead Farm Fire Road and Loop Trail were closed to visitors for two weeks as park staff kept an eye on the area. While hikers can now access those trails, dogs are still not allowed.
Gubler estimates between 300 and 600 bears roam the park during the year. While bear attacks might be rare, encounters do happen. Gubler has been monitoring some of the high-profile confrontations.
“The reasons we’ve been seeing so many bear encounters is a delayed and reduced soft mass crop,” Gubler says. He explains that food, like blackberries and wineberries, didn’t bloom until later. Bears eat these berries during late spring and summer then transition into a more protein-rich diet during fall, feeding off things such as hickory nuts, acorns, apples and corn.
“Bears are opportunists—that’s why they push into picnic areas. They have to be on the move to find food,” Gubler says.
It’s during these wanderings when bears are more likely to be hit by cars on Skyline Drive, get into trash or encounter hikers.
Gubler says the Rocky Mountain Wildfire, which ravaged more than 10,000 acres of the park earlier this year, is also a factor in higher bear sightings. Officials believe some bears traveled between 10 and 15 miles outside the burned area in search of food.
He connects this movement to some of the encounters in the Loft Mountain area. He says an experienced backcountry hiker reported an unusually assertive bear in the South District. The hiker told officials a bear was not responsive to normal efforts to scare it away, and only moved after being poked by hiking poles.
But, hikers can breathe a sigh of relief. Active bear months are officially winding down, and although bears don’t go into hibernation during the cold months, they do enter a “winter lethargy” in late November as they increase their diets.
If you do see a bear, the best tactic is to remain calm. Park officials stress you should back away slowly—running can trigger the animal’s prey response. Gubler suggests carrying portable air horns, walking sticks, trekking poles or bear spray for protection.
And don’t misinterpret a bear’s signals. Officials say that when a bear stands on its hind legs or moves closer, it isn’t usually threatening behavior. The animal may be curious and trying to get a better view, or smelling the air.
In honor of Philip Weber III, aka Running Man, the director of Champion Brewing Company’s running club is organizing a memorial 8K that will take place on Saturday, May 28, and benefit the Jefferson-Madison Regional Library.
Weber died after he was struck by an SUV on Ivy Road last December.
“There were times when, to hear people describe the Running Man, you’d have thought they were describing some sort of urban legend,” says James Walsh, director of Champion’s Paavo’s Apostles, the weekly running club. “A guy who runs shirtless, double-digit miles every day, rain or shine, in snow and wind? Who does that? But generations of students and townspeople saw him out there on the road, doing his thing.”
Walsh says Weber’s reputation was that of an eccentric but good-hearted man. While planning the race, many people Walsh spoke to told tales of meeting Weber at gas stations, parties or out on the road, and leaving “with smiles from ear to ear.”
For the memorial run, Walsh says his group plans to set up a mini shrine to the Running Man at Champion Brewing Company, with photos of him on the road, medals from his races and other trinkets and remembrances.
Walsh collaborated closely with Weber’s sister and brother-in-law, and says they feel the race will be “an appropriate memorial and will provide a sense of closure after the long period of mourning.”
According to Joanne Catron, Weber’s sister, the family selected JMRL as the beneficiary because they want to ensure the library can continue being the inspiration to others that it was to her brother.
“When not running, Philip was an enthusiastic reader and he had a passion for learning,” she says. After he graduated from UVA, he continued to read books about subjects he had studied in college, such as architecture, chemistry and music, but also began reading about horticulture, medicine and computer science and studying foreign languages.
Paavo’s Apostles’ goal is for 300 people to sign up for the race, which will begin and end on South Street East, next to Champion, the event’s primary sponsor. Registration is $40, and a post-race reception will be held at the brewery.
There is a registration limit, so runners are encouraged to sign up soon.
Runners can register here and volunteers can sign up to help here.
On a pleasantly wet Wednesday evening in late April, 60-odd people congregated at Trinity Presbyterian Church for the third public meeting about the Ragged Mountain Natural Area and its future. One of the many issues to be decided is who gets to use the park, now restricted to hikers and fishermen. Will mountain bikers, runners, horses and/or dogs get to join in the fun?
The public feedback meeting was called a map session with table exercises. Eight tables filled with maps and other research materials were used to garner opinion and gather information about whether Ragged Mountain would remain a natural area or become a recreational area.
Chris Gensic of Charlottesville Parks & Recreation explained that “if a consensus was reached tonight,” it would be passed on to the Parks & Recreation Advisory Board and City Council for approval.
The first speaker of the night was Peter Krebs, a master’s candidate at UVA School of Architecture. Krebs had compiled a comprehensive fact sheet of other similar municipalities and what they had done with reservoirs.
Roanoke and Lynchburg stood out as comparable, althoughKrebs explained there is nothing exactly like Ragged Mountain. According to a handout, “Other cities’ actions are not a decision factor, only to inform land use expectations.”
Devin Floyd with Charlottesville’s Center for Urban Habitats said he and an army of volunteers have mapped and documented all flora and fauna at the Ragged Mountain Reservoir. He has counted more than 300 different species, including 53 tree species, 19 ferns, six orchids and 147 birds. He has teams assigned to track mammals as well as butterflies, aquatics and non-native exotics.
“It’s quite a treasure,” he said.
The proposed trail map has a little more than seven miles for walking and a three-mile stretch wide enough for a car. Floyd’s map shows areas of ecological sensitivity, native habitats, evidence of previous land use and exotic flora not native to this region. Although eradication of non-native species is a current hot-button issue, it was not discussed at this meeting.
When the floor was opened to questions, one attendee asked, “What actually constitutes a natural area?” This prompted several other audience members to suggest that with all the diversity, maybe trails should not be carved out. Several participants admitted to not feeling qualified to make decisions regarding the natural area, and asked for leadership from their elected officials, with one woman stating, “This is an exercise in futility.”
Gensic then took control and suggested everyone put these concerns on paper that he would, in turn, deliver to City Council. In kindergarten style, starting with the first row, he had everyone say a number from one to eight so the tables would have a greater diversity. As people obliged and then settled down to their task, the future of Ragged Mountain Natural Area remained undecided.
Another public meeting will be held May 24, and the issue will go to the Parks & Recreation Advisory Board in June, which will have 30 days of public comment before it makes a decision. City Council could vote in September on whether Ragged Mountain remains a natural area or becomes a recreational space.
Rivanna River Company will launch Charlottesville’s first outfitter
By Jessica Luck
editor@c-ville.com
When Gabe and Sonya Silver movedback to Charlottesville three years ago after various stints in other places working in the outdoor recreation field, they settled in the Woolen Mills neighborhood. The house they bought was a fixer-upper with no air conditioning, and to escape the summer heat after long bouts of renovation sessions they would drag inner tubes down to Riverview Park and float around the horseshoe bend in the Rivanna River.
“Every time we went down to the Rivanna it was just this escape, but it was right there,” Sonya says. “It really felt like this unique experience you could have right in your backyard.”
Soon, their friends were showing up at their house every weekend asking to borrow their inner tubes—their secret escape was out, and a new business idea was born.
The Silvers wanted to create a gathering place where Charlottesville citizens as well as visitors could rent kayaks, stand-up paddleboards, canoes and inner tubes and set out on their own adventures down the river or participate in a guided session to learn more about the river’s history and ecological system. They’re a two-person marketing team trumpeting a local resource of enjoyment and beauty that some citizens may not know about.
“Reconnecting Charlottesville with the river so we take more pride in it and take better care of it, both individually and as a town, is what we care about,” Gabe says. “We’re at home in nature, and a lot of times we’re our best selves there, we’re relaxed.”
The Rivanna River is 42 miles long, and is formed four miles northeast of Charlottesville by the confluence of two tributaries: the North Fork and the South Fork. The river flows southeast through Albemarle County, around the eastern edge of Charlottesville, by Monticello, and continues southeast through Fluvanna County until it enters the James River.
Not only known for recreational uses such as kayaking, birding, fishing and tubing, the river is Charlottesville’s main source of drinking water and has been the target of conservation efforts from various groups for decades.
In January, two of those river stewards, the Rivanna Conservation Society and StreamWatch, merged to form the Rivanna Conservation Alliance. The alliance’s mission is protecting our water and reaching out to the community to educate it on keeping the rivers clean, with a focus on education, recreation, restoration programs and scientific monitoring.
Robbi Savage, executive director of the alliance, says she receives calls throughout the year from people inquiring about rental equipment for river excursions and tour guides. The alliance leads two paddling sojourns down the river a year, but there was no local outfitter on the river Savage could point them to. Until now.
Savage says about a year ago, when the Silvers were conceptualizing their business plan for the Rivanna River Company, researching the area and exploring all their options, they reached out to her and other organizations to share their idea and see if there were any opportunities for collaboration. They “handled it just right,” Savage says, by making connections with like-minded folks and approaching the business from a holistic viewpoint of what’s best for the area. In fact, the Silvers assisted RCA with its April 24 sojourn from Crofton to Palmyra, by providing boats and helping with transportation.
“I see this business as a tremendous asset to the community and it’s a great help to RCA,” she says.
The search for land to house the Silvers’ business was one of the hardest parts. They approached several private land owners on the Rivanna, who said they supported the idea but were worried about liability issues. They talked with the county about setting up their outfitter at Darden Towe Park, but no monetary transactions can take place there. Finally, Gabe walked into Cosner Brothers Body Shop on East High Street one day and talked to Grant Cosner, who opened the business more than 50 years ago. Cosner said they could set up in the parking lot of his shop, which backs up to the Rivanna Trail and is located directly on the river, just downstream from Free Bridge. The space is intended to be temporary for this season, launching April 30 and running through October.
The Silvers bought a mini barn that will be moved to the site and serve as their headquarters, where they’ll have 20-plus kayaks, eight canoes, eight stand-up paddleboards and 25 inner tubes, plus a 14-passenger bus and two trailers. They recently completed a crowdfunding campaign on Indiegogo to raise the last $15,000 needed to purchase all of their equipment—they raised $17,045, and donated half of the surplus amount to RCA. The 210 backers received river trip vouchers, T-shirts or hats for their contributions. Still in the works is an online reservation system. For now, their website will list set trip times, for single and group tours, as well as self-guided and instructional tours, but call ahead for reservations.
Another project is a joint venture between the Silvers, the city of Charlottesville and VDOT. The Silvers have volunteered to do a cost share and help buy the materials to create a kayak launch underneath Free Bridge. Chris Gensic, park and trail planner with the city, says VDOT is reviewing a second round of designs for the project, which would consist of railroad tie steps and natural landscape steps down to the river. Gensic says it’s likely an Eagle Scout could install the wooden steps as part of a project—the same way the staircase at Riverview Park was constructed.
Cosner also donated two acres of land he owns on the other side of Free Bridge, and Gensic says the plan is to put a picnic table and trash can on the land to serve as a rest stop for paddlers.
The Silvers want their startup business to become part of the framework of activities in Charlottesville; after someone visits Monticello or a winery, for instance, they hope the outdoor amenities in the area are next on their list. Or even for people who live here, they want the river to be a place of respite, where you can go after work, hop on a stand-up paddleboard and soak in the scenery.
“For families, people busy working a lot, they can get a breath, and I think it can really refresh you and change your perspective,” Gabe says. “It can also change your perspective on where you live.”
The 83rd annual event celebrates the beauty of local gardens, and feature visits to the historic Morven Estate gardens and house, the Pavilion Gardens at UVA and a shuttle tour of other idyllic private homes and estates.
Saturday 4/23-Monday 4/25. $10-40, various times and locations. vagardenweek.org.
Health & Wellness
Miles for Margaret 5K
Camp Kesem, ADAPT and the Pi Beta Phi sorority at UVA host a 5K race in honor of UVA student Margaret Lowe’s memory.
Matt Greene of JM Stock Provisions and Tristan Wraight of Oakhart Social prepare a five-course, family-style dinner, paired with vintage wines from Blenheim Vineyards.
Enjoy a night of food, wine and music at Victory Hall Opera’s spring fundraiser and performance. Tenor Will Ferguson, soprano Sari Gruber and Grammy Award-winning pianist Margo Garrett host a concert accompanied by a four-course tasting of food from Palladio Restaurant and wine from Barboursville Vineyards.
Celebrate the 273rd anniversary of Thomas Jefferson’s birth at this annual ceremony. Marian Wright Edelman, the 2016 recipient of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation Medal in Citizen Leadership, gives the keynote address.
Wednesday, 4/13. Free, 10-11am. West Lawn, Monticello, 931 Thomas Jefferson Pkwy. 984-9800.
Health & Wellness
Run for Autism 5K
Lace up your running shoes for a good cause and join the community in a course through local scenic neighborhoods. Proceeds benefit the Virginia Institute of Autism.
When Dan Purdy walks into his bank, the tellers know to pull out a couple stacks of rolled quarters. No nickels needed, and there’s certainly no cause for pennies. Purdy can tell the good rolls (government issued) from the bad (locally rolled, riddled with other coins), but he’ll make use of a change machine if need be. Dan Purdy is a pinball player. He plays almost every day, either on machines he owns or at various locations in the region. On Thursdays, you can find him at Firefly, where he runs the Firefly Charlottesville Pinball League.
Beginning its second season on April 14, the league is still in its infancy. It formed thanks to Purdy, Firefly owner Melissa Meece and the restaurant’s pinball machine owner and operator, David Brizzolara.
When the establishment opened in November 2014, a scant two pinball machines occupied one wall. “[Dan] came in and said, ‘You know, if you had four, we could have a pinball league here,’” recalls Meece.
“I remember being so stoked when I saw that fourth game show up,” says Purdy. “The next day, I was sending out e-mails [about starting the league].”
Now, with one season under its belt, the league has a steady membership but always welcomes new or drop-in players. The Firefly league’s first season champion, John Stone, started as a drop-in player.
“I was living in Cleveland and my neighborhood bar was just a place that had a number of pinball machines,” says Stone. “My friends became really competitive, playing it whenever we’d go to the bar. Then, it turned into a pinball league. Once I moved [to Charlottesville] to start a new job, the first thing I sought out was a pinball league here.” Others have been drawn in by the chiming bells of a ball hitting its mark, the tinny arcade music and the triumphant cheers of league play. “We’ll have people just approach us; they’re interested in what we’re doing,” says Stone.
The Dominion Pinball League—which is bigger and more established—has a high amount of overlap with players in the Firefly league, including Purdy and Stone. “The Firefly league is kind of the new kid on the block,” says Purdy. “The scene is younger, hip—and there’s better beer.”
Equally important is the support that Meece and her staff give to the league, including everything from social media posting to a well-stocked change machine for an endless supply of those all-important quarters.
Pinball involves skill and physical strategies, from flipper manipulation to mastering the plunge (putting the ball in play), but for players like Purdy and Stone, the real pleasure is in progressing through the established rules within each individual machine and the era in which it was created. “If you want to get deeper into pinball, you have to be able to play 1960s electro-mechanical games, 1970s EM and solid-state games, 1980s games [like those at Firefly]. You have to be able to walk into Main Street Arena and play newer games,” says Purdy. “You have to not take it for granted that you can play pinball because you played at the local laundromat.” For many league players, interest in pinball is single-minded and doesn’t extend to PlayStation, Xbox or even other arcade games like Big Buck Hunter. “That’s money better spent on quarters,” jokes Stone.
League members save quarters in other ways as well. Unlike in other leagues, there are no weekly or seasonal dues for the Firefly Charlottesville Pinball League. “The whole goal is that anyone can join at any time,” says Stone. “It’s not supposed to be exclusionary.”
The Firefly league has quarterly seasons each year and meets weekly. Players are split into two groups according to skill level. Each person plays each machine once, taking turns. “It can get in your head,” says Purdy. “Waiting there, watching someone just destroy the machine with a monster score and then you realize that you have to step up and try to match that.”
While other leagues and tournaments boast cash prizes of thousands of dollars, the Firefly Charlottesville Pinball League keeps it simple. “For us, it’s just bragging rights,” says Stone.
Firefly league pinball
Space Shuttle (1984)
Using pinballs to knock down targets, players spell out the word SHUTTLE on the playfield. You get extra points and a ball bonus for also spelling out USA in the same way.
Season 1 high score: John Stone 3,461,850
High Speed (1986)
This game is the first occurrence of a multi-ball jackpot. Legend has it that this machine is based on the game designer’s real-life, high-speed police chase in California.
Season 1 high score: John Stone 5,111,210
Pin-Bot (1986)
Players navigate the solar system in this game, traversing from Pluto in to the Sun. Multi-ball mode is achieved in this game by positioning two pinballs into the glowing eye sockets of the titular robot.
Season 1 high score: Dan Purdy 3,917,680
Dr. Dude and His Excellent Ray (1990)
In a game where the goal is to get cool points, each action is part of an effort to collect hipness and ratchet up the Dude-O-Meter. This was one of the last games to use an alphanumeric display before dot matrix became the norm.
Season 1 high score: Dan Purdy 10,983,510
“The Firefly league is kind of the new kid on the block,” says Dan Purdy. “The scene is younger, hip—and there’s better beer.”