EPCAL, a world apart: taking in its beauty, peace and natural treasures

Several years ago my cousin Donna and her husband Steve called on a snow day and said to grab my cross-country skis and meet behind the Stony Brook Incubator. With them, I knew I was in for an adventure and headed right over. They pointed out a narrow path through some pines and took off.

After struggling a bit to keep up, I decided to slow down and take in my surroundings. I can’t say for certain exactly what happened in those few snowy hours but I am pretty sure I fell in love with a piece of land.

I felt completely protected and alive as I silently skied under towering pitch and white pines, old solid oaks and beech trees that stubbornly held on to some of their leaves. I would return again and again, bringing my Pete and our St. Bernard Gracie to share this space with. Steve had explained that this land would always be here, as it was protected and could never be built on — that safety and peace I found my first visit settled in to be the truth I believed.

Fast forward to several weeks ago when I woke up in a panic. We had just lost Donna’s dad, my great Uncle Fred. For 26 years, Frederick Pradon had been a conservation officer for our East End. He knew this area better than the deer and even more so than the poachers. Uncle Fred retired to Vermont about 30 years ago, citing then his concern for the way Long Island was going about its development. Not one to waste his words, he would consistently say, “There has to be balance, in all things, but especially in nature.”

As details of the additional land included in the EPCAL sale emerged and this balance is further threatened, I felt a strong obligation to invite people to see an area that was intended to forever belong to us.

On Earth Day, about 40 of us gathered at the incubator and coated ourselves in tick spray so we could explore this incredible, dynamic tract of land together. My hope was for people to see a beautiful kettle lake, surrounded by signs of wildlife; to walk through the pines and feel the way the air changes — cooler and fragrant — like a giant air filter sending out aromatherapy.

I recruited Steve and Donna to lead. Thankfully they pointed out tree species that were beyond me. They also made sure to give Richard “Dick” Ballou credit for single-handedly planting strand upon strand of pine trees — often camping out on the property so he could keep going and complete his task towards remediating the land. Some days he would take a break and go get some coffee with Uncle Fred.

We walked about a mile and found special treasures such as the likely home of a flying squirrel and a few owl pellets that told their own unique story. Knowing the list of endangered species that call this area home, we were able to point out the particular importance of this land.

My goal was for people to always have a picture in their minds of this area and maybe they would find something to love about it as I did. This hike was a little different for me this time around, as my eight-month-old daughter joined us. Throughout the hike, there wasn’t a sound from our Willa and everyone was surprised and said so. But what greater wonder than nature’s calm to occupy a baby’s attention?

I was thrilled that people came (special thanks to town board members Giglio and Kent) and I was especially heartened to have several children come along with their parents.

Afterwards, I asked two youngsters what they thought of the hike and this is what they said:

“I thought the land was so pretty and different-looking from the rest of Long Island. The grassland felt much hotter under the clear blue sky and the air was so much fresher under the pines.” – Genevieve, age 12

“I thought the hike was thorny!” [Insert awesome kid laugh followed by a serious face and an even more serious statement.] “I bet any company that builds on this land will regret it – they will have to take down SO many trees! They can’t do that!” Avan, age 8

Lastly, my apologies to my old friend Christina whose young daughter promptly filled every pocket she could find with dried up lichen when I told her it was reindeer food. Christina tried to assure her daughter not to worry — that we could return in the Fall to get reindeer supplies.

I sure hope she is right.

“God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools…” -John Muir

Stay-tuned for information on a summertime, family-friendly bike ride to explore the EPCAL Bike Path.