"The Shack was everything and it was nothing." Nina Leopold Bradley (Aldo Leopold’s daughter)
I’m sitting here observing, listening, soaking in stories from the land, from The Shack, from the family, from Aldo. Whether learning from those aspects or learning of those aspects—perhaps for the first time; it’s simply a matter of prepositional schematics. The stories permeate my soul—like the sweet breezes keeping most of the heat and bugs at bay and the serenading discussions of the yellow throat, towhee, pewee, and wren amongst the lofty branches of white pine, walnut, sugar maple, and red oak. The stories trickle down from what I’ve read, what I’ve seen, what I’ve lived, and what I’ve listened to over the years.
I’ve wanted to make this pilgrimage, this sacred journey to the Leopold Shack for quite some time. I first read Aldo Leopold’s Sand County Almanac book back in 2009. I taught his principles to my 5th grade science students for many years. For decades his words were inscribed upon a spirit stick hanging in my classroom that stated, “Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.” A toy Beanie Baby wolf sat upon the top of that stick as if to bring life to those very words. How entertaining it was when students made the connection between the man they were learning about and the words they saw each school day. How strange and yet thrilling it is to be sitting here now upon this land that I had learned so much about while teaching others his principles and beliefs. It is a holy of holies. It is a riverside sanctuary.
It was in 1935, when the 5 Leopold children were between the ages of 8 and 22 years old, that Aldo purchased this old 80 acre Dust Bowl farmstead; sandwiched between Baraboo and Portage, Wisconsin within the bottomlands along the Wisconsin River. The property was purchased by paying the back taxes—at a time that was smack dab in the middle of the Great Depression—after being abused and abandoned by a previous owner who had literally run the land into the ground; depleted of nutrients and richness. Barren. The only building was the ramshackle chicken coop—filled with frozen decomposing manure. After the blessing of Aldo’s wife Estella who thought the whole place was wonderful, and who helped to begin cleaning it out, the building was soon refurbished as a refuge from the elements and a place to overnight; for the family otherwise spent most of their time outdoors. With supplies picked up at local dumps and junkyards, they added windows and eventually what is now referred to as the West Wing—the side lean-to where they built several bunk beds. There was no electricity, no plumbing; just an outhouse they called the Parthenon. It was a perfect getaway for the family!
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| Aldo Framing In The New Window. |
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| Son Starker Leopold Building The Outhouse. |
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| The Parthenon. |
I love it here on the land surrounding The Shack. I also love what Aldo Leopold stood for as a pioneer for environmental conservation. It’s not his end product that’s so alluring, so much as it is his process. His was a process of learning and gaining knowledge; connecting. Yes, he connected himself to data and recorded observations—linking and placing the puzzle pieces where they fit—to make sense out of a time and era when the preservation and the protection of land and water were unheard of across our country. Certainly areas were starting to be set aside to be enjoyed and safe guarded, but the healing and restoration of what had already been destroyed by ill conceived practices was foreign prior to Aldo. This was a new concept for an old problem. It was exciting! Or at least it is now; now that we know that the practices he first developed, put into fruition, and then documented, worked in the past, are working now, and will continue to work in the future.
But Aldo also connected with the land and water itself. He connected to it through his life’s work. He connected to it through the time spent with his family. His view on the natural world and his land ethic were intertwined with how he lived his life. What we know about his external life is a display of what he thought about internally. I find a deep pull to someone that gives us a glimpse into their world; a world born of renewal, insight, discovery, and second chances. Hope for our environment!
Aldo’s ideas, now known as his Land Ethic are so practical; conceived and crafted through scientific research, trial and error, and work as play.
As for scientific research, when you see black and white pictures of Aldo he’s wearing a button down shirt with pockets; pockets that typically held a small memo notebook. It was commonplace for men from that time period. Such a notebook was an avenue for notation and the linking of recorded facts and figures that needed to be jotted down on the thin blue lines. For Aldo that meant information found in the classroom as well as out in the fields and woods or out on mountains and waters. While on assignment—for work and pleasure—the environment provided the education.
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| Aldo Building Up Another Layer Of Bricks On The Chimney. |
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| Aldo & Estella Planting Pines. |
It reminds me of my Granddad Fagerlund; himself an electrical engineer—as well as my Great Grandpa Bender on the other side of my family tree; a tool and die machinist by trade. Both wore shirts with pockets that held notebooks full of lists, sketches, and calculations. I like to imagine that Aldo’s pocketbook held pertinent environmental information. Aldo and my two grandpas would have enjoyed each other’s company. What a wonderful opportunity and experience it would have been to simply sit off to the side and listen to them talk. I did such things as a boy—listening to stories from days gone past. Learning about how one of them dipped their personally purchased metal tools of the trade in a liquid plastic to keep from being shocked while working electrical towers built throughout the rocky hills of West Virginia, or how the other worked as a small lad in barn stables that housed huge draft horses; trying to harness them for the day’s plowing without being pinned against the side of the stall. Each was born of an era; Granddad, Great Grandpa, Aldo. Peering into the notebook journals of those three men would have been like waking up Christmas morning—excitement at the prospect and world of what they knew and what they were learning.
As for trial and error, when working for the U.S. Forest Service in New Mexico, Aldo and fellow rangers shot into a pack of wolves; killing a female and wounding a pup. While attempting to help area ranchers protect herds and flocks, he also held the belief that fewer wolves meant more deer—and that no wolves would be a “hunter’s paradise.” From that pivotal moment, and with the country’s gradual attempt to eradicate all apex predators, Aldo’s thinking began to change. In time he witnessed the overbrowsing of mountain hillsides, wood plots, and remnant prairies; various species of deer eating vegetative foliage to their starvation and demise. Like sticking fingers in a fire, Aldo learned firsthand from mistakes. I appreciate and respect a person that can change direction—seemingly midstream—when they suddenly see things differently and in a new light.
As for making work as play, when Aldo & Estella’s children would come to The Shack during school’s spring break, they helped plant tens of thousands of pines along the Wisconsin River. They also took breaks to play in the water, sing while strumming a guitar, and relax in the good nature of the outdoors. Together with family, and at times with friends or graduate students, weekend retreats were often spent working, but it was also a time of connection to hunt, fish, identify birds, nap, and shoot archery. Estella was a 5 time Wisconsin state champion with her bow! While working in Madison for the University of Wisconsin as a research director, Aldo pioneered the very first prairie restoration; ironically just a hop, skip, and a jump north of where John Deere invented the steel plow in Grand Detour, Illinois. It was an instrument better suited than the plow made of iron to cut through and turn over the deep rooted plants of the fertile prairies and plains. Since many of the plants from the prairies had vanished, Aldo searched and found native plants and their seeds still growing in out of the way locations along railroad tracks, original roadways, and within the confines of old gravesites and cemeteries. The seeds were collected and sewn in specific locations—including around The Shack—and instituted some of the oldest restored prairies found anywhere throughout the world. What fun it must have been for the family to throw seeds and caution to the wind and upon barren sand, only to witness the gradual germination and growth of a prairie reborn.
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| Estella With A Cross Cut Saw Used To Buck Firewood. |
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| Daughter Nina Walking To The Shack With A Guitar, Shotgun, School Books, And Picnic Basket. As The Story Goes, The School Books Were Never Opened While Visiting The Shack! |
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| Aldo Taking A Nap At The Shack. |
Today I could have sat upon one of the benches outside of The Shack to write this entry. It would have made sense and would have tied things together in a nice tight little bow. It’s a bench designed by Aldo himself; common now in many nature preserves. It’s comfortable to lean back upon in the forward position and perfect for bird watching with one’s elbows propped upon the back brace if sat upon in reverse; an easy way to stabilize one’s binoculars while looking afar. I smile at the engineering, simplicity, and practicality of such a bench. I could have sat upon it, but I didn’t. Instead I brought my own chair and after looking around inside The Shack, taking a few pictures, and listening to familiar stories told by the curator, I sat back in the shade of the trees and on the edge of what was once the Leopold garden and orchard; taking it all in as I put my own pieces of the puzzle together; making sense of it all. While sitting, I ate my lunch, sketched out The Shack, and wrote this entry.
This was a pilgrimage for me today; to a place that some have described as the Walden Pond of the Midwest. I understand that; something meaningful being compared to something else that’s meaningful. It makes sense; The Shack, the surrounding land, the stories. Thank you Aldo, and Estella, and all of the children—all of whom have now passed. Your stories of The Shack and what you learned and accomplished through science, trial and error, and play have left a legacy of hope; hope through restoration. I love that.
See you along The Way…
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| The Memorial Marking The Location Where Aldo Died Of A Heart Attack Helping To Fight A Neighbor's Grass Fire That Had Spred On The Hills Overlooking The Shack. |
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| The Leopold Children At The Shack In Later Years. Each Of Them Became Environmental Conservationists In Their Own Right. They Are A Part Of The Legacy! |
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| Estella And Her 5 Children (Starker, Luna, Nina, Carl, & Estella) |
