Meet ICP People: Martin Bialecki

A view of Iron Creek from Noggles Road.  Iron Creek is a stream corridor that connects high-quality natural areas across the property of numerous private landowners.

“Up Stream“

I once thought of keeping a journal, “The Iron Creek Current”.

But the creek will go on without my recalling.

It all started when in the ‘30’s my grandfather bought a small lot on Iron Creek Mill Pond from Mr Brighton who lived in the farmhouse (no longer there) on a hill top off Wolff Rd.   Henry built an earthen dam across the creek and then constructed a stone and concrete spillway which turned a water wheel that drove a generator which charged batteries which he hauled up the hill in horse drawn wagon to power bulbs and gadgets in his house.  This was decades before electric service made its way to these parts.  Rusted mechanicals remain at that dam site.  It would not require much to rebuild if only to do what beavers must have once done.

There was a large ice house with thick walls was filled with sawdust by the lake where Wolff Rd. meets Sharon Hollow Rd.  Teams of ice cutters and work horses harvested lake ice to keep ice boxes in summer cool .   A team in July would load a wagon with big blocks– the ice covered with straw making the neighborhood rounds where other goods were traded (eggs, pork, ducks, etc)

My father in his youth hitched a ride with Mr. Brighton.  They went west beyond Brighton’s house down the hill and through bottom land along old Wolff Road now long since abandoned.  My father was avid about fishing but didn’t bother much with the creek.  He preferred still water.  There is a large spring on the property currently owned by Gerald Sande which was obstructed by the cut and fill required to get the road complete to Noggles Rd.  At one time it fed a sizable pond (two acres?) where my father said he filled a bushel with bream.  The spring is still there running heavy with orange and red mineral.  But some of the impounding structure washed out before my time.

On the surface Iron Creek is scenery.  Underneath, there are strong currents.  I remember hand driving a well or two with my father and grandfather.  About fifty feet down we hit what is called hard pan – a layer almost too tough to penetrate.  But once through that the hydraulic pressure on the other side rushed up.  We “raised” an artesian as was often the case in that neighborhood by the lake.   Many years later only about 100 yards from that well a driller hit an artesian that produced what seemed like 5 gallons per second.  It rapidly gouged a course down to the lake.  The next day the driller returned to cap the well, forcing cementing compounds down into and around the larger pipe that housed the well point.  That appeared to work except water was flooding out of the earth where it would have never before, including the basement of our house.  The force of the artesian found a very porous layer to relieve itself.  That layer was just below our basement a hundred feet away.   Epic flood ensued.    I was in awe of what lurked under the ground there.

Skipping zoology class with several others I came to the lake from Monroe on spring days.  We drank wine, swam naked and stuck meat and onions and peppers on sticks into fire on a hill top.

After four or so years away (college etc) I returned to Iron Creek Mill Pond.   Bill Kellum & I took the canoe into the marsh where the creek enters the mill pond.  The quest was to spear carp, a wary fish except when breeding.  Even so stealth is required to get close.  Bill had not done this sort of thing before but he is a big strong man (a fairier). Bill was in the back of the canoe managing the mangle of marsh.  I was at the front with a heavy spear poised.   I speared a very big one.  In the murk I had no idea how big.  But it has all I could manage to keep it on the spear.  I was not fearful of capsizing –it was shallow.   Worse case was the leeches.   Bill was attentive to the situation (balancing the canoe) and I was able to haul the monster aboard.  It was indeed huge.  It could have sucked my head from my shoulders.   In an instant Bill jumped out.  So hilarious I almost capsized the canoe from laughing.  Bill could not get back in.  He had a long wade to go.  Yes I have the photo.

Some years later, after spending a splendid fours years in Oregon , I returned to Iron Creek and married Margaret Kellum.  Just upstream on the Kellum farm we extensively rebuilt a decrepit farm house with much help from Bob Kellum.  Most folks thought we must have been nuts.  It sure seemed to take a long time.  But it was abject fun.  Every day I wrote on the inside of the rough walls what birds I observed while banging away with tools. My favorite was Lincoln’s sparrow singing (trust me that was rare).  Also flying over head a calling upland plover.  Very cool.  The only upland plover I’ve observed in this watershed.  My distraction with birds did not contribute to the completion of the construction.  Some day someone may read my scrawling inside the walls and wonder.

Any way Grace, Stas, and Silas are now grown adults and I have moved on with very fond memories.

Upstream.  Tad & Sybil Kolon were very gracious in letting me stay at the little old farmhouse where the creek runs deep and strong along the edge of the yard.  Looking out the window I saw diving mink and the swirls and eddies of who knows what.  I hosted bird and butterfly counts there.  State records were broken.  What great place!  Especially because it connects with Kellum property.

Upstream.  Two and a half years ago Cathy & I bought a oak log A frame on 11.5 acres adjacent to Kings.

Wow.  What a coincidence.  Iron Creek runs through it!   After a hefty rain it flows so it appears to be a pending liability.  And our cars are on the other side of the bridge.  Just ship me in wine and cheese by canoe, okay?

Written by Martin Bialecki

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** This post is part of a series meant to introduce readers to some of the people behind these stewardship stories.  Each post is intended to contribute to a collective expression of who we are and in the process give some depth and context to what is probably a more unique enterprise than any of us yet realize.  Enjoy! **

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