Techniques for fishing the spring walleye run in the Maumee River haven’t changed that much during the past 10 years, or for that matter, for the past 2,000 years.

After the great glaciers receded from what is now Ohio, most people who traveled on or along this great river probably knew that fish swarmed upstream as the days grew longer and warmer. According to historians, these ancient people brought in large catches of fish using spears, traps and hooks whittled from animal bone. Assuming that human nature also hasn’t changed much over the millennia, it’s likely that at least one ancient angler stretched apart his arms as well as the truth  to show his fishing buddies the incredible size of “the one that got away.”

The river and the walleye still run strong, and so do their stories. Colorful accounts of the Maumee’s great fish populations appear in Louis A. Simonis’  book, “Maumee River 1835.”

“So numerous are they at the Rapids of the Miami [Maumee River] that a gig may be thrown into the water at random, and it will rarely miss killing one! Some hundreds have been taken in the river at Fort Meigs in this way during the last spring. The writer saw, last summer, nearly half a barrel of them killed in less than an hour on the rapids with clubs and stones by three and four persons.”

Another excerpt from the book offers more testimony to the great fishing near the fort: “The quantity of fish taken at this place is most surprising. Some days there are not less than 1,000 or 1,500 taken with the hook, within three hundred yards of the fort, of the most excellent kind.”

Fort Meigs in Perrysburg is now a reconstruction of the original, but the walleye fishing here continues to attract thousands of anglers. The ubiquitous spirit of this fish has spread to Toledo’s semiprofessional hockey team, the Toledo Walleye, and local libraries carry volumes of books about this popular member of the perch family.

As the walleye crowd the rapids, customers clad in chest waders and rubber boots line up before sunrise at bait and tackle shops and wait for the doors to unlock so they can scour the aisles for the right lure to tempt an unwitting walleye onto the dinner plate. These mom-and-pop shops share fish tales and scuttlebutt like appetizers at a dinner party. According to many of the patrons, the best baits for walleye are floating jigs tipped with white, yellow, or fluorescent-colored twister tails.

Gary Lowry, owner of Maumee Tackle, is thankful for the annual walleye run and spring fishing that accounts for more than half of his annual sales. If his work is a labor of love, then the romance continues, and Lowry has fond memories of his first fishing jaunts on Bluegrass Island, decades ago.

“We used to ride our bikes down to the river,” he said, “then wade over to the island. My first fishing experiences there were just bringing home a bunch of fish, but I didn’t know what kind. Later, I found out I had caught walleyes.”

The walleye run on the Maumee didn’t become a fishing frenzy until the mid-1970s, Lowry explained, when sportswriters began touting the Maumee as a premier fishing destination. During the six or seven weeks of the season, SUVs  and pickup trucks dominate the popular fishing locations such as Side Cut Metropark and Orleans Park, and finding a parking space  becomes as challenging as landing a lunker walleye.

The annual pilgrimage is a boon for many area businesses that cater to the 50,000 or more anglers who converge in Northwest Ohio.  A day on the river might require buying pliers, sunscreen, fishing tackle, ice, and stopping at the grocery store to pick up lunch supplies, and local bricks-and-mortar stores enjoy an advantage over online stores for these daily purchases.  Hotels and restaurants also benefit from the seasonal business boost.

The Econo Lodge on Fremont Pike in Perrysburg offers special hotel rates during the spring fishing season. Hotel Office Manager Art Balderas stays abreast of daily fishing reports to “give guests accurate fishing reports,” he said. As an added attraction, the hotel provides a fish cleaning station and ample parking for boat trailers.

If catching and cleaning fish doesn’t appeal to one’s sensibilities, The Andersons offers fresh Canadian walleye fillet for $15.99 per pound. Walleye is widely considered one of the best-tasting freshwater fish in the world, and its price-per-pound approaches that of saltwater favorites such as grouper and snapper. If one prefers upscale ambiance and the convenience of ordering from a menu, then perhaps Stella’s on Louisiana Avenue in Perrysburg will satisfy. Their fresh fillet of walleye, topped with herb butter, roasted on a seasoned cedar plank and served with wrapped lemon, mashed potatoes and vegetable du jour,  costs $22.95 and has been a favorite since the restaurant opened more than 10 years ago, according to chef John Kerstetter.

The walleye season peaks in late March and early May when water temperatures reach 50 degrees and spring rains raise the water level in the river. The best fishing spots are in or near the rapids,  from the Conant Street bridge upstream to the end of Jerome Road in Lucas County,  according to the Ohio Department of Natural Resource’s website.

Optimum conditions for the 2013 walleye season may fall around the middle of April, according to John Windau, wildlife communication specialist with District 2 Ohio Department of Natural Resources in Northwest Ohio. “Conditions in the Maumee are pretty good, the Sandusky River is really, really good right now. The Maumee water level is low, but recent rains should help. In the meantime,” he said “the deeper holes in the Maumee River, near Fort Meigs, are providing good catches.”

Holes and drop-offs provide likely hangouts for walleye, but they also pose a hazard for anglers who are often clad in cumbersome, rubber-soled boots that can fill with water in just seconds. Twenty pounds of waterlogged boots and a current strong enough to uproot trees can be a deathtrap. Anyone wading the river is advised to wear a life jacket, and wearing a belt cinched tightly across the waist will help keep water out of hip and chest-waders.

The Maumee River is still quite cold during the walleye run, and a person immersed in its chilly water can quickly become hypothermic and die in one to three hours. For boaters, tying the anchor off from the bow, not from

Fisherman cast for walleye in the Maumee River.

the stern, is essential. A boat anchored from the stern, which usually has less freeboard than the bow, is subject to waves and water entering and possibly capsizing the boat.

Walleye fishing methods vary, but a common technique is to cast out directly in front — in the 12 o’clock position — then slowly reel in while keeping the line tight in the current.

There is an unspoken etiquette among fisherman here, and most anglers will stay at least a rod’s length from the next person. When the fishing action is good, hundreds of anglers will stretch out along the river in single-file lines.

An evolution in walleye fishing tackle is helping protect the environment while increasing fish catch. The Carolina rig, with its floating jig head, is less likely to snag in the rocky stream bed than is a lead-head jig, which sinks to the bottom. The floating jig also offers a more enticing presentation to a hungry walleye by floating off the bottom of the streambed. Hence, more fish are caught, less lead is ingested, and less line is left to snag fish and birds that may have the misfortune of getting snared in the discarded line.

Law enforcement officials keep a high profile and a keen eye on fish limits and boating activities. The Ohio Department of Natural Resources sets annual and seasonal limits on walleye catches.  The current daily limit is four walleye with a minimum length of 15 inches each.  Regulations also limit fishing to sunrise to sunset. Fines for keeping a snagged fish — hooked anywhere other than by the mouth — varies depending on court jurisdiction. In Maumee, the fine and court costs total $145. The fine and court cost for one fish over the limit totals $145, plus $25 for each additional fish over the limit. Fishing without a license incurs a total penalty of $145.

As the buckeye and cottonwood trees begin to bud, the numbers of walleye and their human predators will diminish and finally fade into the memory of another season on the Maumee.  The old men of the river will add a few new tales to their catalog, and the newcomers, christened with a first catch, will tell their buddies about that exciting day and about the “big one that got away.”

Tags: Fishing, Fort Meigs, Maumee River, Walleye

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013 at 11:19 am and is filed under Outdoors, Sports.
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Observing life is like reading a compelling novel. There is no control over the book’s chapter breaks, its starts and stops — or its ending. But there is endless potential for imposing symbolism, theme and meaning on the narrative.

As part of a healthier lifestyle, I walk 60-90 minutes every day, which provides my brain a lot of time to wander and ponder. As many as three times a week, my walk follows a path through the Warehouse District in Downtown Toledo, where I have studied the scenery on Monroe, Summit and Washington streets and their connecting cross streets. Each time I turn south on Summit Street, my eyes are drawn to the Anthony Wayne Bridge, or High-Level Bridge as I have always called it.

I knew at some point I wanted to walk across the High-Level Bridge and back; it’s not Mount Everest, but I used to break a labored sweat by just changing my mind, so it represented a goal on my way to fitness.

On Good Friday, for no real reason and without thinking about it, I did not turn west on Washington Street as I have so many times; I kept walking south on Summit Street, knowing I could cross on Clayton Street and start the walk across the bridge.

I expected the adventure to be a mild triumph, but nearly everything I saw was disheartening and depressing.

The decay that has chewed into much of the South End begins as Downtown Toledo gives way just past the Owens Corning campus and Summit Street turns into Broadway Street. The litter of plastic Sprite bottles, glass Corona bottles, crumpled Winston cigarette packages and discarded scratch-off lottery tickets begins at the south end of the River Walk just past Owens Corning and thickens as the sidewalk leads south.

The Swan Creek apartment building is a rare sign of life on the way to Clayton Street, now that the Spring Gardens Family Restaurant is closed.

While crossing Broadway Street to get to the base of the High-Level Bridge, it is necessary to step over broken glass and items of clothing; I was saddened to see a child’s blue winter hat with a faded, sewn-on patch of the explorer from “Go, Diego, Go!” lying discarded and unraveling. A black bra was tangled in the barbed wire fencing protecting the Howard T. Moriarty Company, waving in the wind like a pirate flag.

At the north side base of the bridge, I stared up at the long incline and the sky-blue towers reaching nearly 1,200 feet into the air. I started walking the first of the nearly 3,120 feet of the bridge’s length.

The ascent

The bridge’s concrete sidewalk is crumbling in proportion to the rust eating at its rails and steel supports. As the ascent begins its arch across the muddy Maumee River, there are endless signs of human debris; graffiti in black, white and purple paint marks nearly everywhere the eye can land. Someone placed several dozen circular orange stickers reading “2/$4.00” along the girders and columns of the bridge. I wondered if they were gang signs, left by members of the Kroger, Meijer or Aldi gangs. The first vista to the north looks at the Owens Corning parking lot, across tree tops hosting large bird nests and strips of plastic wrapped around branches. Along the west side of the river, discarded tires and debris line the shore. The cranes, ducks, geese and gulls seem to regard this man-made topiary as a part of the landscape, like the large tree which is stuck just past the bridge.

Then there is just brown water.

At the center of the bridge, the purple graffiti takes the form of long wavy lines, as if Harold took his Purple Crayon and randomly dragged it along the bridge’s steel. I stopped at the center to survey the view. It occurred to me that only twice in my Toledo experience have I been higher — once when I stood on the roof of the Fifth Third building and once in a South End basement apartment with a girl named Jennifer.

From the center of the bridge, on that clear Good Friday, I could see as far as the Hollywood Casino Toledo sign to the south; the University of Toledo bell clock tower to the west; and as far out across the lake as the Downtown skyline and Veterans Glass City Skyway will allow to the north. Facing east, all I could see was more bridge to walk.

The dedication plaque proclaims  the bridge was built in 1931, more than 80 years ago. I could drive across the bridge 10 times a day and never think about the toll more than eight decades takes on such a magnificent piece of architecture, but somehow, standing on it made me feel vulnerable and uncertain. Rather than contemplate what it would be like to fall 100 feet with an avalanche of concrete and steel into the rushing waters below, I hurried my pace.

As the water gave way to Miami Street on the East Side, I approached the second stairwell leading down. I had walked right past the first stairwell, but stopped to think about entering this second one just out of curiosity. About seven steps down, a glimpse of what looked like feces-stained pants and other wadded-up clothing drove me back to the surface.

An opening on the Anthony Wayne Bridge that looks down to the ground below.

I looked down on the first neighborhood under the shadow of the bridge, its houses close together and in various states of disrepair and ownership, so much like the South End Toledo neighborhood where I spent several years. Roofs sag and may be stripped of tiles, but often support satellite TV dishes. Alleys are full of litter, tires and rubble. Many backyards have kids’ toys and playsets in them. McDonald’s wrappers and plastic waste blow across the area like tumbleweeds in a Western movie.

There and back again

I reached the bottom of the bridge, then turned west and started back up. I wasn’t physically tired, but the dreary surroundings made me weary.

There is plenty of rail and concrete between the road and the pedestrian  section of the bridge, but it is disconcerting to have the traffic rushing up behind you as it passes. The whooshes add to the sound of the wind to make the highest point of the journey feel like an alien place, and again I felt that vertigo.

The last interesting piece of graffiti on the north side of the bridge is a black-and-gold scrawl reading “Capitalism is slavery!” It was something to consider as I walked back to work.

Nearing the bottom of the bridge, as the road curves back to Broadway Street, I was greeted by billboards. An image of Crystal Bowersox smiled down from a fading Blade billboard on the left. A colorful ad for Biggby Coffee’s Hot Fudge Brownie Latte loomed on the right. Both images looked sweet, tempting — and equally forbidden.

Walking back along Summit Street and passing by the Swan Creek Apartments, I saw a woman standing up against a wall in the parking lot, one foot raised behind her, not unlike the cranes I’d seen on the waterfront. A theater-size box of candy rested on the ground in front of her. It’s rash and unfair of me to assume either the woman or the candy were being offered for public consumption, but it occurred to me that if I were forced at gunpoint to choose sampling one or the other, I might ask if I could enter a third option and offer to drink a glass of water from that muddy, brown Maumee River.

I stopped, startled by the base and crass nature of that train of thought.

The Anthony Wayne Bridge is slated for major repairs soon, and will be closed for almost two years. But that might be for the best. If one walk across its crumbling structure along with the decay of the neighborhood it shadows were enough to symbolically lower me to such themes and meanings, I am better off sticking to my regular path — earthbound, familiar and relatively free of … litter.

The real and mental varieties.

Michael S. Miller is editor in chief of Toledo Free Press and Toledo Free Press Star. Email him at mmiller@toledofreepress.com.

Tags: Aldi, Anthony Wayne Bridge, Biggby's Coffee, Crystal Bowersox, Harold and the Purple Crayon, High Level Bridge, Hollywood Casino Toledo, Howard T. Moriarty Company, Kroger, Lighting The Fuse, Maumee River, Meijer, Michael S. Miller, Swan Creek Apartments, University of Toledo

This entry was posted on Friday, April 5th, 2013 at 6:50 am and is filed under Lighting The Fuse, Opinion.
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Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes… Remember David Bowie’s chart-topping song? Change is inevitable, we all know it. One discerning Indian chief from our region dramatically turned and faced the change that was looming through the Northwest Territory on the eve of the Battle of Fallen Timbers in 1794.

Michikinikwa, or Little Turtle, was chief of the Miami Indian tribe which gave its name to two rivers in southern Ohio and our own Maumee River, in a variant spelling. From his village at the source of the Maumee River, near present-day Fort Wayne, Ind.,  Little Turtle became the Americans’ prime antagonist from 1790-1794.

When the Revolutionary War ended in 1783, American veterans were granted land tracts in the Indiana and Ohio territories as payment for their service.  Little Turtle couldn’t tolerate this land grab and led numerous raids against the frontiersmen crossing the Appalachians.

In 1790, George Washington sent Gen. Josiah Harmar to the Fort Wayne area to teach Little Turtle a lesson, but it was the president who learned through Harmar’s surprising defeat to never again send untrained troops against this foe.

The following year, Gen. Arthur St. Clair led a larger force to settle the score. However, a cunning Little Turtle surprised St. Clair’s troops and scored the largest Indian victory in history over any foreign intruder. On Nov.  4, 1791, in the wilderness about 20 miles west of present-day Wapakoneta, more than 600 Americans were killed — three times the number that fell at Custer’s Last Stand!

1n 1794, it was Anthony Wayne’s turn. This time was different. Wayne led military-savvy troops and had a plan that included building forts along his course from Cincinnati to our Maumee Valley. Where St. Clair had been defeated, Wayne built Fort Recovery, from which he survived a June attack from Little Turtle. This defeat gave Little Turtle his first inkling of change in the air.

Over the next two months, Little Turtle surprisingly tried to persuade the chiefs of the tribal coalition he was leading to seek peace with the Americans. It was becoming obvious to him that the expected support of the British was not forthcoming, and the Americans were growing in numbers and military prowess. It was a hard sell.

With little support for his change of attitude, Little Turtle reluctantly participated in, but did not command, the Fallen Timbers contest. Upon their defeat, several Indian leaders recognized Little Turtle’s wisdom and joined him in signing the Treaty of Greenville, which ceded the lower half of what would become Ohio to the Americans in lieu of a $1,000 annuity.

Little Turtle had the support of other famous chiefs like Blue Jacket of the Shawnee and Tarhe of the Wyandots, but other natives ostracized him and would soon ally themselves with an up-and-coming Shawnee leader, Tecumseh, who would resurrect and grow the Indian confederacy against the Americans.

Little Turtle continued to pursue peace, signing several more treaties with the United States. Even President Washington befriended him and built him a large log home on land near Fort Wayne in which he lived until a few weeks after the War of 1812 was declared. Ironically, Little Turtle died in battle with the same enemy that took down his former adversaries, St. Clair and Wayne – the gout!

Probably due in part to Washington’s influence, Little Turtle had his portrait painted by Gilbert Stuart, the most celebrated portrait artist of early America. A lithograph still exists, but the original painting went up in the flames set by the British in Washington, D.C., in 1814.

One of Little Turtle’s daughters married William Wells, a man Little Turtle had captured as a boy and raised as his own. Their daughter, Little Turtle’s granddaughter, Mary Wells, married a businessman named James Wolcott whose home can still be visited today on River Road in Maumee.

And if you ever go boating in Lake Erie, about five miles from the mouth of the Maumee River you might spot the tiniest of islands. It was once inhabited by the Miami tribe and used briefly by British forces as a supply station during the War of 1812. It’s named after Michikinikwa – Turtle Island.

Frank Kuron is author of the War of 1812 book, “Thus Fell Tecumseh.” Email him at kuronpubs@bex.net

Bugle Call: Upcoming Events

• For a “spirited” stroll through Fort Meigs, come out the weekend nights of Oct. 26 – 27. Garrison Ghost Walks will be led every 15 minutes between 7 and 9 p.m. The whole family will enjoy hearing tales from the past and, while the ghosts may not be real, the fun certainly will be! Proceeds from this event go to the Old Northwest Military History Association. Reservations required.

Tags: 1812, Anthony Wayne, Battle of Fallen Timbers, Frank Kuron, Gilbert Stuart, Little Turtle, Maumee River, War of 1812, Wolcott House

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 18th, 2012 at 5:06 am and is filed under 1812 Bicentennial, History, Opinion.
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Buying a fishing license is not something I think to do on my own. I am typically reminded to do so by someone that I’m going to fish with. It’s like I pretend to forget, although most of the time I end up buying one due to the ingrained voice and look my father once gave me regarding them. He reasoned that what we are paying for is not permission to fish, but for the DNR (Department of Natural Resources) to regulate fishing so that fish populations can be sustained for a healthy ecosystem and fishing economy. OK, I can understand.

However, power plant cooling water intake systems kill billions of aquatic creatures annually, according to the Sierra Club, which makes purchasing a fishing license seem irrelevant. The Ohio DNR sets daily fish limits on the number of fish you’re permitted to keep. There is unlimited catch and release, but for example, a person can only keep 40 yellow perch, six walleye and five bass in one day’s work (bearing a few exceptions by date and some site-specific regulations).

According to Lake Erie Waterkeeper’s website, over one million pounds of fish are lost per year, including 77,812 walleye, 123,405 yellow perch and 17 million white bass at First Energy’s Bayshore Power Plant at the mouth of the Western Lake Erie, where it takes in 182 million gallons of water a day (down from 749 million gallons of water a day at full operation during the past summer).

According to the Sierra Club, “It is no coincidence that power plants are located along some of our nation’s mightiest rivers and most treasured waterways … power plants use more water than any other industry sector in the United States, withdrawing more than 200 billion gallons daily.”

Even with three of its units not operating, Bayshore’s water intake kills fish all day, every day, without paying fees and without repercussion.

With that being said, I bought a fishing license last week to go fishing in the Great Lakes’ fishiest river and best walleye spawning river in the world, the Maumee. As you may have read last week, I have not been fishing on a boat in the Maumee, nor have I caught a fish in the Maumee. I’ve mainly caught garbage, actually. This time was different.

It was a sunny fall day and Len put in his boat at Cullen Park. First, we went across the river to the BP water intake area. The water is warm and shallow in this little cove and tends to be a popular hangout for fish. Len caught a bass on his first cast. I had a bite, but mostly was practicing the new pendulum casting technique with my lure, a long blue rubber worm with a tail.

Next, we cast along a rusting steel wall along another cove, this one lined with train cars and gravel mounds. No catches. We moved over to the western shore of the river, and the next hour and half, we were busy pulling in fish. I caught my first bass, about 16 inches long with four rows of teeth, and it seemed pretty easy to catch a fish thereafter. Granted, I was with someone who has spent a lot of time surveying the landscape when the river is at different depths, so he knows what is happening beneath the surface. Together, we caught and released a total of twelve bass, a handful of blue gill and a couple of crappie.

As we got ready to head in, I saw an interesting perspective on Toledo. Looking straight ahead were the Downtown buildings and all the bridges (the high level being my favorite), including two railroad bridges, one with a train passing through and the other no longer fully connected. To my left were mounds of coal and gravel, empty train cars, stationed cargo vessels, and an active dredging crane. Passing on the right was a dredge boat taking a load out to the lake to dump. Beyond that boat was the U.S. Coast Guard Station, an old naval base, the wastewater treatment plant and a bunch of docked yachts.

What a special feeling to be in the middle of such a completely industrial scene that often goes unseen. And to experience it on the river, knowing how much more there is to the water than just what we were floating on, and how it is constantly compromised and interfered with, yet flows with such grace, strength and resonation with change. Among it all, I did not feel completely anxious or overwhelmed or the need to raise a fist. It all felt sort of right in its own place.

Tags: Maumee River, Sierra Club, Stacy Jurich

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 25th, 2012 at 9:48 am and is filed under Star.
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A few summers ago, I lived Downtown in a warehouse, a football field’s throw in one direction to the Amtrak station and in the other to the Maumee River. On my way home late afternoons and on my way out in the mornings, I’d route myself to stop by the riverfront by the old Murphy’s. This stretch in front of Promenade Park is where you are likely to find some urban fishing.

There was one fisherman in particular I liked to visit. He was a veteran who lived Downtown and would fish almost every day, all day. He’d bring a thermos full of coffee, fishing gear and cigarettes. We became friends of sorts. He got a kick out of me riding my bike all over the place and I got a kick out of his Jeep factory stories and the way he pronounced fish, like “feesh.”

I was also intrigued, mostly confused, by watching him throw cigarette butt after cigarette butt into the water where he fished. It would not have surprised me if he had reeled in his line to find one of those butts on the hook. But instead he would pull in catfish and sell him to a shop owner who would then sell them or cook them. My friend didn’t sell them for much, but at least someone found value in Maumee catfish.

I’ve only fished in the Maumee four times. The first time I went fishing was at International Park, at night, in high school. It was probably illegal and I’m embarrassed to say what we used as bait. That time doesn’t count.

The second occasion was with the aforementioned “accomplished” fisherman friend. I caught a rubber glove, the yellow kind you clean with, and a plastic bag, like a mini zip bag.

The next urban fishing experience was on a really windy day with my friend Michelle. We were just down the way from where my friend would successfully fish, over by the docks that are always covered with white bird crap. Again, I caught a piece of garbage.

My latest attempt (but not final) was again with Michelle, but we thought we’d increase our chances at a catch by moving away from Downtown. It was sunset in Waterville, trying our chances with a variety of baits. Our intentions were strong, but alas, we went home with our heads-a-hangin’.

The part of the Maumee that passes through Downtown is actually a freshwater estuary, a transition zone where the mixing of lake and river water occurs, which “influence(s) important ecological processes,” according to Wisconsin’s Freshwater Estuary Initiative. Collectively, the Great Lakes form the largest surface freshwater system in the world and represent 84 percent of North America’s surface fresh water, according to the EPA.

The Maumee is the Great Lakes’ muddiest tributary, not a bad thing, as it is also the fishiest. Residents of the Maumee watershed,  many of whom consume or care about fish, we are faced with challenges.

The “Muddy Maumee” is faced with both physical pollution in the form of litter and garbage, and biological pollution in the form of industrial, agricultural and (sub)urban toxic runoff and probably hazardous waste pollution, too.

How can we protect the largest Great Lakes tributary (Maumee) and our freshwater lake? With our river and Lake Erie having more consumable fish than all the other Great Lakes combined, it makes sense to do our part in keeping a clean, safe and healthy ecosystem where fish populations can thrive.

There are many organizations with efforts under way to protect our watershed. They have volunteer opportunities year round and some offer memberships for a higher level of involvement. Consider actively participating with any of these groups: Lake Erie Waterkeeper, Western Lake Erie Sierra Club, Partners for Clean Streams, Rain Garden Initiative, Toledo Coalition for Safe Energy, LEWAS, Lucas Soil and Water Conservation District.

In the midst of writing this article, I met a fellow water advocate who fishes the Maumee. Not here and there, but every day and with great success. I have a feeling that when he takes me out on his boat this week, I’ll have my first Maumee fish on the hook and perhaps my first Maumee blue gill dinner.

Email Toledo Free Press Star columnist Stacy Jurich at star@toledofreepress.com.

Tags: Lake Erie, Maumee River, Stacy Jurich, Wandering Roots

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 16th, 2012 at 11:27 am and is filed under Star, Wandering Roots.
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Editor’s Note: Don Lee, an artist and Toledo Free Press cartoonist, was contracted to draw a caricature of a winning bidder at the fundraising auction for the Great Lakes museum.

Ground was broken Sept. 24 for the Great Lakes Historical Society’s new home off Front Street and those behind the project hope it’s just the latest chapter in the story of the Great Lakes and Toledo’s role in it.

But first, the museum is seeking to get its own story out among area residents, particularly those who can help get the project fully on its feet.

Ground was broken for the National Museum of the Great Lakes Historical Society on Sept. 24. Toledo Free Press Star Photo by Don Lee.

“I do think this is an exciting opportunity for Toledo to have,” said Beth Stutler, who was recently hired to work in development for what will be called the National Museum of the Great Lakes Historical Society. “Another tourist attraction on the Maumee River is wonderful, and the artifacts they have really do tell the story of the Great Lakes.”

The historical society is looking to raise about $3.5 million — the difference between the approximate $10 million cost of the project and the amount already received in grants from the state’s Cultural Facilities Commission.

For that, the society promises a museum twice the size of the venue it’s occupied in Vermilion since 1953, a new home for the museum freighter Col. James S. Schoonmaker and a park from which to watch the Maumee River traffic or host a special event.

A replica of the Vermilion lighthouse — for which the people of Vermilion raised the money — will stay in Vermilion, though the future of the freighter Canopus’ wheel house, now attached to the museum building in Vermilion, remains undetermined.

Among the planned fundraising events is an Oct. 20 invitation-only cruise on the Schoonmaker when the century-old lake freighter will be towed from its berth near the Anthony Wayne Bridge to its new home next to the museum near the Veterans Glass City Skyway. The capstone of this year’s fundraising will be the society’s annual Treasures of the Lakes dinner, set for Nov. 3 at the Toledo Club. Raffle prizes include two trips aboard U.S.-registered Great Lakes freighters.

The goal of the society and museum is to create a place where people can learn about the significance of the Great Lakes in all aspects of life, said executive director Christopher Gillcrist.

There are other museums around the lakes that specialize in everything from history to commercial shipping to shipwrecks “and they do a fantastic job,” said Carrie Sowden, an archaeologist who’s worked for the Great Lakes Historical Society since graduating from Texas A&M University in 2004. “But they’re very localized and we think there’s a greater story to tell: how we became industrialized and settled in the 19th century. … And we want to tell Toledo’s story as well.”

For example, Sowden said, an exhibit at the museum might be accompanied by a “Toledo symbol,” so “you can go through the museum and get the Toledo story but see how it fits in” with the greater story of the Great Lakes.

From the early explorers to the part the lakes played in the birth and growth of the United States and Canada — including the Battle of Lake Erie during the War of 1812 — to the natural resources and natural “highway” of the lakes, much of history would have been different without them, Sowden said.

“The Industrial Revolution of the 19th century doesn’t happen” without the iron ore of the lakes region or the ships to carry it to the foundries, Sowden said.

Telling that story means combining artifacts with other informational material to put the artifacts in the context of their times, to show how they fit into the story.

“I find that to be very powerful,” said Sowden, who has made dives on wrecks in Lake Erie. “Here’s the story of a shipwreck. Here’s the story of the guy who stepped up to ring the ship’s bell before the wreck and here’s the bell he rang.”

All that’s part of the story of the Great Lakes — how people like that watchman and places like Toledo fit into it and how then lakes fit into American and world history. Gillcrist and Sowden want the museum to be the place to go to learn that story.

“I want somebody in Chicago, looking out at Lake Michigan, to say, ‘What’s the story of these lakes?’” Gillcrist said. “And I want the guy standing next to him to say, ‘You really need to go to that museum in Toledo.’”

Building plan for the National Museum of the Great Lakes Historical Society. Illustration courtesy Great Lakes Historical Society/National Museum of the Great Lakes.

Tags: Col. James S. Schoonmaker, Great Lakes Historical Society, Maumee River, National Museum of the Great Lakes Historical Society

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 25th, 2012 at 5:26 pm and is filed under Community, Development.
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“Jaws,” the 1970s horror classic, lured record audiences into theaters and sent terrified beach buffs scurrying out of the water. Fortunately, freshwater rivers and lakes offered water-lovers a refuge from any menacing creatures lurking beneath the surface.

Times have changed.

On a clear autumn day in 1994, Marcy Poplett was idling her personal watercraft on the Illinois River and enjoying the gold and auburn leaves along the shore when a silver carp leapt from the water and smacked her between the eyes. Unconscious and bleeding profusely, she fell off the craft and began drifting downstream in the current. She revived just in time to see a towboat headed toward her. The towboat’s horn blasted a warning and a nearby boater rescued Poplett, who suffered multiple injuries including a concussion and a broken nose.

Knocking on the gates

Silver carp belong to a notorious family of fish generally known as Asian carp, and along with their cousin, the bighead carp, they are penetrating further into the country’s freshwater systems and knocking on the gates to the Great Lakes.

Imported from Asia to help control aquatic plants in aquaculture ponds, the fish were accidentally and intentionally introduced to U.S. freshwater rivers and lakes. Prolific breeders and voracious eaters, they out-compete other fish for food and territory and leave an environmental mess in their wake. If they become established in the Great Lakes, they could threaten its $7 billion commercial and sport fishing industry.

An Asian carp defecates as it appears to fly over the treeline in this photo taken by the USGS Columbia Environmental Research Center.

Bighead carp have been recorded in at least 18 states and are firmly established in Illinois and Missouri. They can grow to more than 3 feet and reach a scale-tipping 100 pounds. Tales of silver carp attacks are as abundant and large as the fish themselves.

“Big Jim” Hardy owns a bait and tackle shop in Ottawa, Ill., not far from the Illinois River. The fish often jump into his boat, he said, and leave blood and slimy scales. Hardy’s fishing buddy shares the pain and the curse of the carp.

“A 40-pound silver carp hit him right in the face,” Hardy said. “Broke his glasses and knocked out some of his false teeth. Thought he broke his jaw, too. He built a cage around his boat, and now he wears a catcher’s mask when he’s on the river.”

Hardy said the carp started to infest this part of the river system, where the Illinois and Fox rivers meet, about two years ago.

“Now, the rivers are alive with thousands of them,” he said.

Vulnerable site

The steady drumbeat of the Asian carp advance is resonating throughout the country.

One particularly vulnerable site for the carp invasion is the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal, part of a series of canals and rivers that link the Mississippi River to Lake Michigan and the rest of the Great Lakes. Electrical barriers about 30 miles from Chicago help keep the upstream portion of the canal free of carp.

But do the electrical barriers guarantee that Asian carp will not invade the Great Lakes?

“No,” said Philip Willink with the Chicago Field Museum, who maintains an informational webpage about Asian carp. He compares the efficiency of the electrical barriers to biologists who use electricity to stun fish for survey collections — a few fish always manage to escape. Studies also indicate that Asian carp navigating toward Lake Michigan could breach the barriers if they swim alongside barges and other vessels that could deflect the electrical current.

Close the locks and dam the canal, say some. Many local and state environmental agencies and organizations are calling for permanent solutions that include filling in portions of the canal system. But this extreme measure would cost billions of dollars in construction and lost revenue from shipping traffic and recreational boating along the canal and river system.

Asian carp have had their day in the highest court of the land. Several Great Lakes states sued the State of Illinois to permanently close the navigational locks leading into Lake Michigan. The U.S. Supreme Court rejected those pleas.

Illinois is President Barack Obama’s home state and Michigan officials accused his administration of favoritism when it supported Illinois in the lawsuit.

But the Obama administration supports other measures to contain these foreign invaders. Its plans include an Asian Carp Control Strategy Framework — and a $51.5 million program-in addition to the $105 million already allocated — to defend the Great Lakes. This multi-faceted strategy includes a list of lethal tactics that reads like a page from a spy novel, including female carp urine to lure unsuspecting males, poison pellets and underwater guns that shoot high-intensity sound waves.

Jackson Gross, a U.S. Geological Survey biologist and lead investigator for one of the projects, said the water guns can shoot a blast of air more than 30 feet to scare or stun fish. If the stun gun proves to be effective, it will used in the Chicago Sanitary Canals to help repel carp.

Like so many other concerned scientists, he laments the loss of native fish in the Illinois River. A century ago, it supported the largest inland fishery in America.

“The Illinois had one of the most diverse fish populations in the country until Asian carp took over,” he said. “Wild carp are like a cancer on the environment.”

Potential weak link

Not far from Chicago lies another potentially weak link that could offer a supply line for the Asian carp attack. Eagle Marsh, a 716-acre wetland preserve just south of Fort Wayne, Ind., lies near a centuries-old trail where French fur trappers once portaged their canoes between the Wabash and Maumee rivers, which link the Mississippi to Lake Erie.

Asian carp in the Wabash might also find this to be a convenient route to the lake if severe floods breach the gap between the rivers. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and the Fish and Wildlife Service funded the installation of an 8-foot-tall chain-link fence the length of nearly four football fields to span the flood-prone area and keep carp from reaching the Maumee. In spite of these efforts, Asian carp imprints have been spotted in Lake Erie and efforts to track and hunt them down have intensified.

Reports of bighead carp in Lake Erie, though few and far between, have surfaced throughout the years from Pelee Island, Sandusky Bay and Cedar Point.

Like evidence at a crime scene, results from water samples collected in late August have brought out the forensic fish experts. A posse of officials from Ohio Department of Natural Resources, Michigan Department of Natural Resources, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and U.S. Army Corps of Engineers found silver carp DNA in 20 out of 150 samples taken throughout Sandusky Bay and Sandusky River. Samples from Maumee Bay were negative. Intensive electrofishing and test netting yielded no live Asian carp in any of the areas that were sampled.

Did the criminals escape the dragnet, or was this DNA just a form of circumstantial evidence?

“The breadth of positive samples from the Sandusky Bay area was not expected,” said Michigan Department of Natural Resources Fisheries Chief Jim Dexter. “We need to understand the source of the eDNA (environmental DNA) in order to address it and keep silver and bighead carp from establishing a viable population in the Great Lakes.”

Fish parts and fish DNA can be transported by storm sewers, in bilge water or by fish-eating birds, such as pelicans, that fly long distances.

Inviting habitat

Whatever the mode of transport, Maumee Bay and the Maumee River’s currents, water temperature and abundant food supply offer one of the most inviting habitats in Lake Erie for Asian carp to thrive and reproduce. That doomsday scenario could devastate the most fertile fisheries area in all of the Great Lakes, and the Maumee River’s sport fishing heritage could become a faint memory, like the dilapidated canal locks that lie along its banks.

Commercial fishing could also suffer if Asian carp have their way. Rick Unger, president of the Lake Erie Charter Boat Association, said he thinks that local Department of Natural Resources personnel and other local government agencies are extremely vigilant.

“My concern,” he said, “is at the federal level and not enough being done at the shipping canal in Chicago.”

Federal help is on the way, and the recent introduction of the Stop Invasive Species Act, sponsored by U.S. Sen. Debbie Stabenow, a Michigan Democrat, and Rep. Dave Camp, a Michigan Republican, requires a fast-track plan to defend the Great Lakes’ rivers and tributaries from Asian carp.

Specifically, the bipartisan plan calls for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to provide options for stopping Asian carp across 18 possible points of entry into the Great Lakes. Center-stage are the Chicago Waterway System and infrastructure projects that would block Asian carp while allowing shipping to continue along the waterways.

Is there any chance for deliverance from this scaly scourge? Schafer Fisheries in Thomson, Ill., has been harvesting and selling fish since 1955. Now, it annually sells some 10 million pounds of Asian carp worldwide to countries with hearty appetites for what most Americans regard as trash fish. Carp are one of the most popular food fish in the world.

“Problem is that most Americans under 40 won’t buy carp,” said Steve McNitt, general sales manager for Schafer. “They want a boneless white fillet that doesn’t taste like fish.”

Schafer’s retail store features a broad menu of carp products including sausage, hotdogs, jerk and gefilte fish. Asian carp are also processed into a potent and popular brand of fertilizer that is sold across the country. Most of Schafer Fisheries’ revenue comes from Asian carp, and though the commercial harvests may not halt the advance of Asian carp, they do bring one more possible solution to the table.

While new markets are explored and more studies initiated, there will be no truce in the battle for the Great Lakes. The list of foreign villains in the Great Lakes reads like a rogues’ gallery of criminals and killers. Sea lampreys literally sucked the lifeblood out of the Great Lakes fisheries in the 1950s and ’60s; zebra mussels clog municipal water intakes, foul boats and piers and cause millions of dollars in damage; the EPA has identified at least 25 invasive species that disrupt and damage the Great Lakes ecosystem.

Asian carp may appear in that gallery one day, but there is still time to turn the tide and save the Great Lakes from yet another killer.

Tags: Asian carp, Chicago Field Museum, Great Lakes, Maumee River

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 30th, 2012 at 4:19 pm and is filed under Community, Environment, Featured.
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Years ago I undertook the building of a wooden barn in my backyard, from a kit consisting of nothing but raw lumber and nails. (Man-grunt!) After careful consideration, the best location was determined. The blueprints were reviewed and a couple construction-oriented friends were coerced to guide me through. They worked hard, even on rainy weekends, but if I ever left to run an errand, I’d often return to find them lounging rather than hammering. The construction of Fort Meigs proceeded in a somewhat similar fashion.

In late January 1813, Gen. Harrison was leading U.S. troops toward Monroe, Mich., to aid in a battle with the British and Native Americans. While marching through the soon-to-be Toledo area, a retreating survivor of the conflict ahead, announced the massacre of Americans along the Raisin River. Harrison turned and withdrew, realizing that a new defensive post needed to be established immediately, lest the enemy push south into Ohio.

The mouth of our Maumee River at this time was a pivot-point of transportation. It opened northward into Lake Erie for access to British-occupied Canada; and wove southward toward the frontier’s main artery, the Ohio River. As well, at least four major trails radiated out from the Maumee rapids area. So it was not on a whim, that as Harrison stood on the high bluff over the south side of the Maumee River, he declared, “This is the best position that can be taken to cover the frontier.” The garrison was named in honor of then governor of Ohio, Return J. Meigs Jr.

Capt. Charles Gratiot, the Northwest Army’s chief engineer, agreed on this location and designed the fortress accordingly. Construction began on Feb. 2, 1813. By the way, you’re right, that street you travel going to a ballgame in Detroit is named after him.

The 1,500-plus men were divided into units by Gratiot and assigned to build particular sections. After only a few days, however, Gratiot fell seriously ill so supervision was assigned to a young, fellow West Point engineering graduate named Eleazer Wood. For his heroic direction and patriotic service, the county in which the fort still stands was later named in his honor.

What became the largest wooden fort in North America had a circumference of well over a mile. Wood said, “With the exception of short intervals for blockhouses and batteries, this extent was picketed with timber fifteen feet long, from ten to twelve inches in diameter, set three feet in the ground.” The blockhouses were made of double timbers to withstand oncoming artillery. Wells were dug. Storage and ammunition houses were raised. Gun batteries were built. Even extra pickets and planks were piled inside the fort to replace any that might be blown apart by enemy fire.

Progress continued into March despite of adverse weather conditions. Snowfalls up to 6 inches were repeatedly cleared so the men could work, eat and sleep. The river was frozen, the ground was frozen, even one of the sentries was frozen – to death -while at his post. Really! Picks and shovels ricocheted off this tundra as they dug trenches along the perimeter. And can you hear the clatter of all those axes felling trees day after day?

In early March, Wood was ordered to coordinate construction of Fort Stephenson in Fremont, Ohio. During the few weeks he was gone, Fort Meigs was left in the command of an aging general named Joel Leftwich — a Revolutionary War veteran who was only weeks away from fulfilling his current military commitment and retiring to his Virginia home.

Upon Wood’s return, Leftwich was blasted as, “a stupid old granny who stopped the progress of the works entirely … (the men) were permitted to burn the timber, which had been brought into the camp with an immense deal of labor for pickets and blockhouses; not only did they burn this timber, but … the men (were) actually employed in pulling the pickets out of the ground, and conveying them off for fuel.”

Obviously, it was hotter under Wood’s collar that day than in the flames of those burning pickets! He retook command and the fort was completed well before the first attack of May 1, 1813.

Frank Kuron is author of the War of 1812 book, “Thus Fell Tecumseh.” Email him at kuronpubs@bex.net.

Bugle Call: upcoming events

• Fort Meigs will host the next in its monthly Bentley Lecture Series presentations on Thursday, May 17. Historian and author Anthony Yanik will speak on “William Hull and the Fall of Detroit.” The presentation is free and starts at 7:30 p.m. in the Fort Meigs Visitor Center, 29100 W. River Road in Perrysburg.
• Visit Fort Meigs May 18-19 for “Drums at the Rapids,” a miniature war gaming conference. Tabletop battles include historical events and fantasy and sci-fi games. Come fight the Civil War, World War II, the War of 1812 and more!
• Visit Fort Meigs May 26-27 and see recreated battles, musket and artillery demonstrations, and camp life demonstrations during their “1st Siege 1813: War of 1812 Re-enactment & Memorial Day Ceremony.” On Memorial Day, a wreath-laying ceremony will take place at 2 p.m. in front of the monument within the fort.

Visit www.fortmeigs.org or call (419) 874-4121 for complete details about all upcoming events.

Tags: Eleazer Wood, Fort Meigs, Frank Kuron, Maumee River, War of 1812 bicentennial

This entry was posted on Friday, May 4th, 2012 at 4:30 pm and is filed under 1812 Bicentennial, Arts and Life.
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S&L Fertilizer, the company that handles all of the city’s sludge, must hire a consultant to determine the impact the company’s Maumee Bay site might have on the Maumee River and Lake Erie.

As first reported at www.toledofreepress.com on March 12, the Ohio Environmental Protection Agency has mandated “meaningful water and soil sampling data” through computerized models and sampling plans as a result of numerous complaints surrounding the facility. The company’s consultant would have to hand in results within two years of the contract’s start.

“It’s a legitimate concern; there are good questions being asked,” said Dina Pierce, spokesperson for the Ohio EPA. “Obviously the western basin is a very sensitive area from an ecological standpoint.”

Most complaints have flooded in from N-Viro, the company with which the city contracted prior to switching entirely to S&L.

Councilman D. Michael Collins, who has hammered the agency with records requests for months regarding S&L, shared similar concerns with N-Viro, Pierce said.

S&L has operated under the city’s permit for years but new regulations require that the company apply for its own. The permit is still in the draft stages, and the agency is amending pieces of it based on concerns that emerged during the public comment period, Pierce said. The particular sampling that the EPA will now require of S&L is not standard for all permits of this type, she said.

“The question keeps getting asked over and over and this is an attempt for us to say, ‘Let’s just do it,’” she said.

She pointed out that S&L’s facility takes up only a small portion of the entire island on which it sits. Sampling could also help determine to what extent environmental impact is attributed to the company compared to the entire area, which the Lucas County Port Authority operates. The island has been filled with dredging material for decades, so it is unlikely that any potential problems would be the sole responsibility of the sludge facility, Pierce said.

“We’ve done inspections out there and we see no evidence that there is any run-off getting into the lake from S&L operations,” she said. S&L Fertilizer has leased property on the island for decades, accepting a portion of the city’s waste, mixing it with other materials and sending some remains to the Hoffman Road Landfill. The result is called “Nu Soil.”

Until recently, N-Viro handled Toledo’s bio-waste. The company would take about 50 percent of the waste and mix it with high alkaline products, which raises the temperature and kills E. coli, worms and fecal coliform. The company sent its product to farmers across Northwest Ohio for its fertilizer-like qualities, said Robert Bohmer, vice president of N-Viro.

Terry Perry, the head of S&L, did not return phone calls for comment.

N-Viro produces what is considered a Class A biosolid, while S&L produces a Class B. This means that 98-99 percent of the pathogens have been removed and it is unlikely to spread disease. The city can use Class B material at landfills, but needs an EPA permit to spread it elsewhere.

Once approved, farmers can use it in fields, depending on the crop, as long as the area is restricted from human contact for a designated number of days. Cities can also use the product at places like public parks as long as they fence off the area for a year.

Collins has been researching the stipulations of this rule and trying to verify that all Class B biosolids have been accurately accounted for. A letter from the Department of Public Utilities raised alarm for Collins months ago. It stated that no Class B material from N-Viro or S&L had been delivered anywhere but the landfill. But according to city records, the company made deliveries to Ravine Park in 2007 and 2010.

Pierce said the city filed the appropriate paperwork for the reclamation project to be approved. Other nonlandfill places the mud has gone include the Retirees Golf Course, a private residence and a cemetery.

The city made the deal with S&L on the condition that the company produce at least $200,000 worth of topsoil annually. Collins and council members Lindsay Webb and Rob Ludeman voted against the contract. The city had completed its own testing of the surrounding environment and results came up clean.

Collins insisted that the city ought to employ an independent consultant to test the soil at the facility, but most Council members declined. Council president Joe McNamara, who has called Collins’ investigation into the sludge facility a “crusade,” said he thinks the EPA’s mandate is a relief.  Council had asked an EPA representative to attend council meetings during the decision-making process in the fall, but the agency declined, McNamara said.

McNamara solidly stood by the city’s positive test results and denounced the idea that “testing the mud” for bacteria and phosphorous, as Collins suggested, would prove anything.

“I think that it’s great the EPA has come up with a scientifically sound measure to test if there’s a problem,” McNamara said. “If it discovers something that we didn’t think was happening, we’ll stop. This puts the debate to bed.”

Not for Collins.

“It was in bed and this is now the awakening of the issue. We will now find out what we were afraid to find out if in fact the practice is not safe,” Collins said. “I feel this amplifies a response that council was not willing to do and that was to protect the environment by insisting that a study be done.”

Tags: Caitlin McGlade, D. Michael Collins, Department of Public Utilities, Dina Pierce, Joe McNamara, Lake Erie, Lindsay Webb, Lucas County Port Authority, Maumee River, N-Viro, Ohio Environmental Protection Agency, Ravine Park, Retirees Golf Course, Rob Ludeman, S&L Fertilizer, sludge

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 15th, 2012 at 9:36 pm and is filed under City of Toledo, Community, Environment, Utilities.
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S&L Fertilizer, the company that handles all of the city’s sludge, will have to hire a consultant to determine the impact that the company’s Maumee Bay site might have on the river and Lake Erie.

The Ohio Environmental Protection Agency has mandated “meaningful water and soil sampling data” through computerized models and sampling plans as a result of numerous complaints surrounding the facility.

“It’s a legitimate concern; there are good questions being asked,” said Dina Pierce, spokesperson for the Ohio EPA. “Obviously the western basin is a very sensitive area from an ecological standpoint.”

Most complaints have flooded in from N-VIRO, the company with which the city contracted prior to switching entirely to S&L. Councilman D. Michael Collins, who has hammered the agency with records requests for months regarding S&L, shared similar concerns with N-VIRO, Pierce said.

S&L has operated under the city’s permit for years but new regulations require that the company apply for its own. The permit is still in the draft stages, and the agency is amending pieces of it based on concerns that arrived during the public comment period, Pierce said.

The particular sampling that the EPA will now require of S&L is not protocol for all permits of this type, she said.

“The question keeps getting asked over and over and this is an attempt for us to say, ‘let’s just do it,” she said.

She pointed out that S&L’s facility takes up only a small portion of the entire island on which it sits. Sampling could also help answer the question as to what extent environmental impact is attributed to the company compared to the entire area, which the Lucas County Port Authority operates. The island has been filled with dredging material for decades so it is unlikely that any potential problems would be the sole responsibility of the sludge facility, Pierce said.

“We’ve done inspections out there and we see no evidence that there is any run off getting into the lake from S&L operations,” she said.

S&L Fertilizer has leased property on the island for decades, accepting a portion of the city’s waste, mixing it with other materials and sending some remains to the Hoffman Road Landfill. The result is called “Nu Soil.”

Until recently, N-VIRO handled Toledo’s bio-waste. The company would take about 50 percent of the waste and mix it with high alkaline products, which raises the temperature and kills E. coli, worms and fecal coliform. The company sent its product to farmers across Northwest Ohio for its fertilizer-like qualities, said Robert Bohmer, vice president of N-VIRO.

N-VIRO produces what is considered a Class A biosolids. S&L produces a Class B. This means that 98-99 percent of the pathogens have been removed and it is unlikely to spread disease. The city can use Class B material at landfills, but needs an EPA permit to spread the muck elsewhere. Once approved, farmers can use it in fields, depending on the crop, as long as the area is restricted from human contact for a designated numbers of days.

Cities can also use the product at places like public parks as long as they fence off the area for a year.

The city made the deal with S&L on the condition that the company produce at least $200,000 worth of top soil annually. Collins, Council members Lindsay Webb and Rob Ludeman voted against the contract.

The city had completed its own testing of the surrounding environment and results came up clean. Collins insisted that the city ought to employ an independent consultant to test the soil at the facility, but most council members declined.

Check toledofreepress.com for more information as the story develops.

Tags: City of Toledo, D. Michael Collins, Environmental Protection Agency, Lake Erie, Lindsay Webb, Maumee River, N-Viro, Rob Ludeman, S&L Fertilizer

This entry was posted on Monday, March 12th, 2012 at 4:29 pm and is filed under City of Toledo, Community.
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