Steve Eisenhauer and Pat Sutton will be at it again today: Heading out into the hidden, swampy depths of Cumberland County to see, and show others, trees that were probably alive when Columbus landed.
Eisenhauer, regional director of protection and land stewardship for the Natural Lands Trust, and Sutton, a naturalist with the New Jersey Audubon Society, have seen the trees many times. But it's clear from talking to Eisenhauer that the old growth forests of South Jersey never lose their mystery and charm.
"Most of our stuff down here is lowland forest," said Eisenhauer. "Up north, you have highland forests and not as many swampy forests, in general. But down here, this is truly a swamp forest."
While taking people on tours of swamp forests is not as easy as leading hikes through the solid ground of highland versions, all the muck is probably a big reason the aged trees exist. At one point or another during the past 300 years, most of New Jersey's old-growth trees were felled, either for firewood, lumber or land clearing associated with farming and development.
But the swath of woods being visited today by Eisenhauer and Sutton somehow was spared the ax, chainsaw and bulldozer. "Nobody really knows why the trees haven't been cut," said Eisenhauer. "It seems to be due to a combination of factors ... It's pretty remote. It's very wet. It's a swamp, so there are a lot of bugs in the area, and there are not a lot of roads that go into it."
None of those factors would have stopped the loggers, settlers, farmers and developers if the trees were of more value. But the section of Bear Swamp in question is home to black gum trees, a species also called tupelo, pepperidge or sour gum, which rank low on the list of commercially desirable hardwoods.
"Once they get to a certain age, most of them tend to be hollow," explained Eisenhauer. "They tend to lose the center wood, and they have a very thick outer bark that supports the tree. Because they're essentially hollow, there's less incentive to cut them down since you end up with no wood to harvest."
So, with the exception of those trees cut by the Lenape to use as canoes (one use for which a hollow tree seems ideal), the black gums of Bear Swamp were left alone. The absence of inner wood makes ring-counting impossible, but some experts believe the most venerable trees of Bear Swamp could be 700 years old.
However, visitors to the area should not expect to encounter breathtaking monoliths. This isn't a redwood forest.
"The trees here are very slow-growing, and they're not as big as you might think," said Eisenhauer. He said the oldest of the old might be four feet in diameter.
Nevertheless, the trips into Bear Swamp are popular. Today's excursion -- probably the final one until spring -- sold out long ago. That's because, in addition to seeing old black gums, those who go are likely to encounter bald eagles, barred owls, ancient tulip and American holly trees and mistletoe.
A big part of the attraction is the mysteriousness of the setting. Bear Swamp is part of the 6,000-acre Glades Wildlife Refuge and access to the area with the oldest trees entails going through the U.S. Silica Company property.
"There's a dirt roadway that leads back," said Eisenhauer. "You have to hike maybe a mile from where we park. You pretty much walk along the edge of the sand-and-gravel mine and look into the forest from there."The Star-Ledger
