In 2008, a microburst hit the shores of Sandy Point Resort. Straight line winds took out 14 trees, threw every boat into the forest, destroyed a boat house and a swing-set, and ripped up the west dock.
A stand of birch trees, perched on the shoreline adjacent to our Hole 27 (Walleye) disc golf basket, was uprooted and left leaning at a 45° angle toward the inlet creek. Only I believed these trees could be saved. But as this video shows, I managed to turn skeptics into believers, remedy the situation, and save the trees. Watch here: The Birch Tree Experiment. I especially enjoy the line uttered by Tim “First Boss” Good: “Michele, you gotta be delighted!”
I was.
Before we moved back to Sandy Point to live here year-round in 2015, each spring when we returned from Tucson, one of the first things I did was head to the lake to check on how our precious birch trees withstood the often punishing winters. And they always seemed to be doing ok.
But after 18 years of “ice jacking,” where the frozen waters of Amber Lake cause the shoreline to heave, the support for these trees has vastly disappeared. I’m afraid all these trees are coming to the end of their glorious life.
Birches generally show signs of dying from the top down. The tree on the far left of the stand began losing its leaves two summers ago, and today it is a dead soldier. There’s another one in the group that died this winter, and it is now as bald as its brother on the left.
This spring, before the leaves came, the branches of the still living trees were perilously close to the water. And today, after two torrential rainstorms that have left ruts in the sandy shoreline and added water weight to all the flora, we now see the birch leaves licking the lapping waves.
I am not delighted. Where these birches stand/lean is my special spot—the place I go when I want to sit by the lake and be quiet/undisturbed. They have been my shelter and my friends. And the cover of my first book, I’m Living Your Dream Life (McKenna Publishing Group, 2002) features them.
What will be their ultimate fate? I cannot say. But the extra 18 years we gave the lakefront birch trees proved our experiment to be worthwhile.