Sweet success

Hobby becoming backyard business for Riverside beekeepers

Story by Graham Hadley
Photos by Michael Callahan

What started with 3 pounds of bees in a mail-order kit a few years ago has become a thriving backyard business for one Riverside couple.

Nick and Lori Thomas, the husband-and-wife beekeeping team, work together to harvest honey, tend to their ever-expanding bee population and manage the sale of honey, bees and wax — and all in their spare time.

Graduates of Jacksonville State University, they both have jobs at the Anniston Army Depot and are busy raising a family, too.

While they are not ready to quit their day jobs, the demand for their products is growing almost faster than they can keep up with it.

“We actually sold too much honey last year,” Nick said. “We did not have enough left over for ourselves,” continued Lori.

This year, honey production is much higher, though, both because they have more hives and because each one is more productive.

“We are as excited as our repeat customers are to see the increase in the honey this year,” Nick said.

 

It started with old stories

Holding up her baby son, Ethan, Lori says he will make the third generation of beekeepers in the family. “First your Papa (Nick’s grandfather), then Nick and, one day, this one.”

Nick is quick to point out that his grandfather, Wayne Hare, was not exactly a “beekeeper” in the truest sense of the word, but it was his stories that captured Nick’s imagination and drove his interest in bees.

“He was not a beekeeper. He would go with his uncle to rob bee trees of honey. He would tell me stories of how they did it, how they would find bees and follow them,” Nick said. They would cut out the beehives and take the honey home.

“He really sparked my interest with those stories,” Nick said.

After they were married, Nick would often toy with the idea of keeping bees as a hobby.

“He had talked and talked about it. So one Valentine’s Day five years ago, he got his first hive,” Lori said.

Three pounds of worker bees and one queen came in the package — a simple wood frame with screens on both sides.

The project was a success from the word “go.” The first year, the colony swarmed — the process by which one hive has grown and splits into two. Often the old queen will take half the workers and look for a new home.

Nick saw the swarm in the air and employed what he thought was a bit of a wives’ tale from his grandfather — he threw his baseball cap into the flying bees.

“I don’t know why it works, maybe they think they are being attacked by birds, but you throw the hat and they cluster — land all in one spot. My grandfather told me about it, and it worked,” Nick said.

They quickly gathered up the swarm.

“One turned into two; two into four, and so on,” he said.

Currently, Nick and Lori have around 15 colonies of bees. They have had as many as 21 colonies, but they sell off the extra colonies to other beekeepers.

“One guy drove all the way up north with the bees in his car — he called to let us know he had arrived with no trouble,” Nick said.

Several years after that first batch arrived, Nick’s hobby is starting to make money for them and help pay for itself. They made a little profit last year and, with this year’s windfall of honey, they are expecting a much larger profit — unless they buy more equipment or expand their operation, Lori said.

“There are a lot of startup expenses. Bees are not cheap, especially professional honey-extraction equipment,” Nick said.

Handle with care

Not only are bees not inexpensive, they require special care and handling, both to make sure the bees thrive and to avoid stings — something that is not entirely possible for beekeepers (or magazine writers, apparently).

The Thomas’ operation produces honey, beeswax — which they sell in bars and as candles — and bee colonies called nucleus hives. So far this year, they have harvested 480 pounds (more than 40 gallons) of honey. That is a huge increase over last year’s 120 pounds.

And, though they can’t be certified organic because Nick and Lori have no way to control where the bees gather their nectar, they do manage their entire operation without harmful chemicals or artificial additives. Instead, they find natural ways to control pests, like using cinnamon to remove parasites.

Likewise, the Thomases double filter their honey but don’t pasteurize it like big commercial distributors do, a process which both of them say destroys many of the beneficial and homeopathic properties of the honey. They also say it is not necessary. Honey is, by its very nature, mostly sterile and has a near-infinite shelf life.

“People say our honey tastes better than the big commercial brands, which are so over filtered, over pasteurized, over processed,” Lori said.

Even their wax is just that, beeswax — no additives or scents. “It just smells like honey,” she said.

What Nick says he enjoys most are caring for the bees and making sure the colonies are healthy and watching for swarming, which is important to prevent because you not only lose bees, they eat lots of honey before leaving. He also enjoys harvesting the honey, but says that can be a lot of work, often requiring long stretches in a hot bee-suit.

Before approaching the hives stacked across the back of their property, Nick and Lori suit up in outfits that cover them head to toe, with screens around their head so they can see out, but the bees can’t get in.

Nick says stings happen, but not nearly as often as you would expect from someone who handles thousands of bees every day. Part of that is because Nick and Lori keep Italian bees, which are more docile than other breeds.

Carrying a smoker — a can with burning leaves or grass — they approach the hives, opening the sections where the bees build combs to store honey, not the areas where the bees actually build cells for breeding. Then, they remove the racks.

Each rack contains honeycomb covered in wax caps, every cell full of honey. They gently remove the bees and store the racks in a case to carry back to the garage where their equipment is kept. The whole process takes only a few minutes.

Once back in the garage, Nick or Lori quickly closes the garage door — if they did not, the bees would follow the honey inside.

“One time, I had been working in here and had left the door open after draining most of the honey out of the extractor — there was maybe an inch in the bottom. I came back down and the garage was full of bees. They were everywhere,” Nick said.

“I learned then what to do when your garage is full of bees. I left the top off the extractor and closed the garage door. The bees all went in and ate the honey left in the bottom. Once they got their fill, I opened the door and they all flew directly back to the hive. They were all gone.”

After hanging up their suits, Nick and Lori set up kind of an assembly line, with Lori removing the racks from the case and giving them to Nick, who uses a special tool to quickly scrape the caps off the honey comb, exposing the honey.

He places the racks in an extractor, a large steel centrifuge that literally spins the honey out of the racks. From there, it is poured out of a spout through the filters and into a container to be bottled.

And, though they will sell jars with the wax comb in them by special order, generally the combs stay in the racks, which are taken back out to the hives to be refilled by the bees.

It takes a lot of work and energy for the bees to rebuild the combs if they are removed, so leaving them in means more productive hives and healthier bees. And Lori and Nick both point out that, like any other animal they keep, the health of their bees is important to them.

The honey is bottled and sold, either in small parcels or in bulk, to their customers. The wax caps are melted in a double boiler and poured into molds, made into candles or just as bars of wax, and sold.

So far, they sell out to their customers and don’t have enough to put in stores, but Nick says they would like one day to have their products sold off of shelves next to other brands.

“Right now, many of our customers buy in bulk. We have one lady who bakes with it, so she buys a lot,” Nick said.

 

Beyond their backyard

Admittedly, Nick and Lori have almost the ideal location for beekeeping — they originally bought enough land for their horses — and have taken time to learn about the process, using that knowledge to continually improve their techniques.

Lori said one thing they had to do was dig a pond on the property. They have a fountain out in front of the house, and bees, like everything else, need water. The fountain became their favorite source.

“It was like a bee highway between the hives and the fountain. Every time you would walk out there, you were getting bumped by bees going back and forth.” It was time for Nick to dig a pond in the back, she said.

In addition to their land and the pond, Nick says they are surrounded by about a hundred acres of diverse woodland, which is the perfect environment for the bees to forage in.

Lori has a degree in chemistry, which comes in handy with the business, and Nick is continually working to broaden his knowledge — and they both want to share their knowledge and experience with others.

About a year ago, Nick and Lori formed the St. Clair County Beekeepers Association, a new organization for the county. An affiliate of the Alabama Beekeepers Association, they meet with other beekeepers from around the area to share their knowledge and experience.

And that process is a two-way street. Nick, who is the president of the association, prepares presentations for the meetings, often expanding his own information resources in the process. In return, they learn additional trade secrets from veteran beekeepers.

And, like their beekeeping operation, the association has been a success. In operation since last August, the St. Clair Beekeepers Association now boasts around 30 members.

Nick and Lori also raise and show exotic animals — everything from snakes to African pygmy hedgehogs. To learn more about the Thomas’ operation, visit their website, www.thomas-farm.com. To learn more about the St. Clair County Beekeepers Association, www.sccba.net.

Editor’s note: Michael Callahan gets a special nod for shooting these photos without a bee suit or netting.

Lovejoy Slingshot Hunt

Creating a most unusual tradition

Photos by Jerry Martin

The T-shirt peeking out from the opening of the camouflage jacket read: “Alabama: So Many Squirrels. So Few Recipes.”

If you’re making such a fashion statement and others are envious of your attire, chances are that you are participating in the annual Lovejoy Slingshot Hunt.

This most unusual family reunion/good ole’ boy gathering features men and women, adults and children hunting squirrels with nothing more than slingshots. Participants from across Alabama and the South come to Lyman Lovejoy’s farm in Ashville each year to witness the decades-old family tradition firsthand.

The annual event has been celebrated for 38 consecutive years, and it continues to grow in popularity thanks to nationwide publicity in major outdoors magazines like Outdoor Life and Southern Outdoors. The annual hunt has been featured on outdoor television shows across the Southeast as well as on the ESPN and Mossy Oak websites. The news of the Lovejoy family being so deadly with their slingshots has appeared in hunting blogs as far away as England.

“It can all be traced back to my dad, Sim Lovejoy,” Lyman Lovejoy explained. “He was one of 16 children in a family that couldn’t afford a shotgun when he was a young boy. They hunted with slingshots to put food on the table in those days.”

Sim Lovejoy, who passed away in 2006 at the age of 92, was known for both his expertise with a slingshot and his handshake that would crush bones. Folks who had the opportunity to hunt squirrels with the patriarch of the family knew better than to refer to their weapons as slingshots.

“Don’t be telling nobody that this is a slingshot,” Sim Lovejoy was quoted saying in a 2001 Birmingham News article. “A slingshot is what David used to slay Goliath. This is a flip. Everybody calls them slingshots, but they are really called flips.”

Webster’s Dictionary doesn’t really agree, but what does it know about hunting squirrels in St. Clair County with such a crude weapon? Webster defines a slingshot as a “forked stick with an elastic band attached for shooting small stones, etc.” Under “flip” in the dictionary, nowhere does it mention a flip being a weapon. When that was explained to Sim Lovejoy once, he just scoffed.

“If you don’t flip it forward at the end of a shot and you let one of those steel ball bearings hit your finger or your thumb you’ll understand why it is called a flip,” Sim Lovejoy said with a laugh.

Most of the Lovejoy kinfolk are excellent marksmen with their slingshots, but none have ever reached the iconic status of Sim Lovejoy.

“He was a legend by age 7,” Lyman Lovejoy said. “By that age he was already shooting running rabbits and squirrels running in trees.”

Sim Lovejoy continued to hunt with his slingshot until 2005, a year before his death. At age 91 he was still mowing down targets from 35 feet away and knocking holes in soft drink cans tossed into the air.

Sim Lovejoy was responsible for getting thousands involved in the hobby he so enjoyed. His family estimates that he made as many as 10,000 slingshots for others in his lifetime.

Among the crowd at this year’s hunt was Donald Hulsey of Odenville, a student of Sim Lovejoy’s in the art of making slingshots. Hulsey continues to find the forked sticks in the woods and whittle them to hand size to make them for anyone interested in having one. It’s yet another way of carrying on the tradition.

Sim Lovejoy was just a local legend most of his life until 2000 when a Birmingham News story featuring him went world-wide via the Associated Press.

“TV news crews and newspaper and magazine writers came out of the woodwork,” Lyman Lovejoy said. “He got calls from Alaska and Missouri and everywhere else from people who wanted a handmade Sim Lovejoy slingshot. He made a slingshot for every one of them and never charged a penny.”

Sim Lovejoy was buried in his trademark overalls with one of his slingshots in his bib pocket. Never once did the family consider ending the annual event following his death. They now use the event as a tribute to the man who started it all. “We wouldn’t have dared ending the hunt when he died,” Lyman Lovejoy said. “It definitely isn’t the same without him, but Dad would have wanted us to carry on.”

The annual hunt draws as many as 100 participants and features breakfast and lunch cooked over an open pit. It draws all walks of life, including judges, lawyers, bankers and just the plain curious. Many bring their kids or grandkids to give them a glimpse into how hunting was once done in Alabama.

The Lovejoys supply the slingshots and the ammunition, which consists of ½-inch ball bearings which they specially order. The ball bearings come in 50-pound boxes, and the hunters typically go through 150 pounds of the steel balls each hunt.

It is not unusual for the hunters to kill nine to 11 squirrels on a hunt.

“It’s not as tough as it sounds,” Lyman Lovejoy said. “We have dogs that tree the squirrels, and when you have 70 or so people on the ground firing away at them somebody is going to nail one.”

Edibles Everywhere

St. Clair forager finding culinary fame in Birmingham restaurants

Story by Graham Hadley
Photos by Jerry Martin

Where you see weeds, St. Clair’s Chris Bennett sees valuable food.

So valuable that he has been able to make a successful side business out of foraging for wild edibles and selling them to high-end restaurants in the Birmingham area.

His acumen for finding flavorful food in the wild is good enough, in fact, that some of Chris’ edibles were used by award-winning Chef Chris Hastings at the Hot and Hot Fish Club in Birmingham to prepare a meal for famous Chef Andrew Zimmern for an installment of his Travel Channel show Bizarre Foods.

The dish, called the Foragers Walk, included chickweed, Virginia pine, wild mushrooms, hoary bittercress, wild lettuce, cat’s ear dandelion, field mustards — “a lot of different stuff,” Chris said.

Most of that “stuff” Chris finds growing wild around his house.

Pointing to a small cluster of slender, dark-green stems poking out of the winter ground in a field near his house, Chris quickly identifies them as “field onions.” He breaks off a few of the stems and holds them to his nose, saying,   “I just snip them off and use them as wild chives.

“They have a more aggressive flavor than regular chives. Why go to the store and buy chives when you can get these in your yard?”

And field onions are just the beginning. In just a couple of hours, he proceeds to identify all kinds of edible plants, all growing in winter within a few hundred yards of where he lives on his family’s old farm property in St. Clair not far from the Interstate 20 Chula Vista exit.

But, before he started showing off his talent for identifying wild edibles, or foraging, Chris was quick to point out that it took him years of research — studies that are always ongoing — before he was comfortable eating things he found growing in his yard and nearby fields and woods, let alone selling them to restaurants.

The Foragers Walk dish that was served to Chef Andrew Zimmern at Hot and Hot in Birmingham

“People need to know … Rule Number 1 … make absolutely sure what you pick is edible. There are lots of tasty things in nature — but lots of stuff is poison,” he said.

It’s his knowledge of not only what is safe to eat, but how it tastes, that has created a market for Chris’ wild edibles in some of Birmingham’s finer dining establishments.

You can’t just walk up to a chef and say, “Look what I found in the woods” and have them buy it. You have to build a reputation for your product and also be able to speak their “language.”

For Chris, that is easy today — he has worked in restaurants all over the country, from Richmond, Va., to Chicago to Birmingham.

He grew up in St. Clair County, on the very property he now forages on — though it was an 84-acre cattle farm back then — before leaving for college to earn a business degree. He knew he did not like traditional farming and had discovered a love and talent for cooking.

“I grew up on the farm, but hated doing chores. I would rather be off having adventures in the woods. Back then, in the 1980s, you could still walk down the road and pick blackberries — which you really can’t anymore,” he said.

After college, “when I lived in Richmond, I got into cooking, I got more into food; got more into gardening,” he said.

And though he describes himself as an omnivore now — “I will pretty much eat anything” — Chris said he was a practicing vegetarian for a while, which made him pay more attention to what he was eating, reading ingredients labels more carefully.

That love of the outdoors, ability in the kitchen and growing interest in more wholesome foods combined to give Chris the foundation he needed to begin foraging.

“When I lived in Chicago, I read up on a lot of European chefs. They use a lot of wild edible plants. I learned there was a lot more out there than wild mushrooms,” he said. “There are things out there all around us.”

In 2005, Chris returned to Alabama to get the old family farm up and running. But he did not want to do traditional farming. Cultivating the land for foraging did away with a lot of the farm labor that did not interest him and allowed Chris to focus on his new passion.

Though he has a regular “day” job working as a cheese buyer for Whole Foods in Birmingham, Chris makes time to gather and sell his wild edible “finds” to restaurants.

Because he not only knows what is edible, he knows how it will taste, Chris can tell chefs exactly what edibles go with what dishes and how they can be prepared.

“I never sell anything I have not eaten,” he said. “My cooking background lets me tell them how to use it, how to cook it — or serve it raw, how it tastes.”

He also helps the restaurants keep track of what wild edibles are in season. “They come to me and ask is something still in season — like wild persimmons. Those are gone by now.”

As a case in point, Chris walks over to a cluster of what look like tall, leafy weeds with small, bright-yellow flowers on top.

“Wild edibles are mostly considered weeds by people who see them growing up in a yard or field. …”

This group of yellow flowering “weeds” grew where Chris had planted tomatoes and covered the ground with hay. “These plants came up. I am always looking at what things are. These, the leafs look like greens and the flowers look like Brassica” (a genus of plants that includes a number of vegetables, including mustards and cabbages).

“I finally figured out they are field mustard,” he said.

Chris uses several tools to help him identify new plants. He always carries a small bound notebook with him where he writes down everything about what he has found, sketches pictures, even takes pressings of the plants.

And, while he still relies on several books, Chris is quick to take advantage of modern technology to help him — using his iPhone to take pictures of the plants and Google and other online tools to identify them.

“It takes a while to learn what something is,” he said, reiterating, “People need to know — make absolutely sure what you pick is edible.” He also said it is equally important to know about where you are picking — since fertilizers and pesticides used in fields can be toxic, and some of the plants will actually draw heavy metals and other harmful chemicals up out of contaminated soil.

Chris is more than ready to help with that — organizing classes on his farm several times a year where he takes people out and teaches them his foraging skills.

People can check out his class schedule and sign up on his website and blog: hollowspringfarm.blogspot.com. He also uses the site as a way to spread information about what is in season and anything new he has found.

Which, despite the time he has spent roaming his family property, still happens frequently.

Walking across the road to another field that is part of the farm, Chris says, “I have been back here around eight years, and I am still finding new things.”

Pointing all around one side of the field, he identifies a number of small plants that make up a wild strawberry patch he uncovered after cutting the field. Though not in season now, when the plants produce fruit, they are what Chris describes as some of the best, most flavorful tiny strawberries you can find.

“They will ruin you for eating regular strawberries,” he said.

Another one of his favorite plants — a tree actually — borders the field. Chris strips off some needles from a Virginia pine and rolls them in his hands, producing a surprisingly strong citrus scent, with a hint of pine in the background.

“I make tea with the needles. It has a clean, pine flavor, but you can infuse it into any kind of liquid, everything from vodka to milk, even make a meringue with it.”

And, like many of the plants he gathers, the pine needles are good for you as more than just an edible, often containing high levels of vitamin C, especially in the winter.

“If I am starting to feel sick — I make tea with this,” he said, pointing out that many pine species have edible needles, but the complex citrusy-pine flavor makes the Virginia pine his favorite.

Chris has found and grows all sorts of other plants on the farm — sage, herbs, kale, cardoon (similar to an artichoke), chickweed (tastes like a pea pod), wild lettuce (which has the classic lettuce bitterness and is less tough than a dandelion green) — the list goes on and on.

And it keeps growing. Chris is always on the lookout for new edibles.

“You never know what you are going to find,” he said.

Tricky Fishing

Kayak fishing making a splash
at Neely Henry & Logan Martin lakes

Story by Loyd McIntosh
Photos by Jerry Martin

Spring time in St. Clair County: fresh air, blue skies, green grass and, of course, fishing — lots and lots of fishing. By the time the ol’ groundhog’s predictions have taken root, there will be – excuse the pun – a boatload of fishing tournaments on and around Neely Henry and Logan Martin lakes.

That also means hundreds of noisy bass boats, speed boats and other motorized watercraft making waves all in an attempt to sneak up on the legions of fish that call the Coosa River and its lakes home. Fishing is as ingrained in who we are in these parts as barbecue and football are.

But a new way of angling is making its way from salt water to fresh water. It began off the California coast around 15 years ago, and now kayak fishing is heading to fresh water fishing hotspots around St. Clair County.

Kayak fishing is on the rise with a growing community of anglers spreading the gospel of the sport as an alternative to traditional fishing. Interested to see it or to try kayak fishing out for yourself? Then clear your schedule and plan to compete in the Coosa Canoe and Kayak Fishing Tournament, organized by the non-profit group, Coosa Riverkeeper.

Frank Chitwood, Riverkeeper and chief watchdog for Coosa Riverkeeper, hopes his organization’s efforts will ensure a healthier Coosa River and surrounding waterways for future generations. “Coosa Riverkeeper is a citizen group advocating on behalf of the Coosa River for clean water,” explains Chitwood. “We stand up to polluters and the government when their actions are not in the best interest of clean water and a healthy river.”

The Coosa Canoe and Kayak Fishing Tournament is a charitable event to raise money and awareness of issues facing the Coosa River through an innovative three-stage tournament. Proceeds from the tournament will go toward helping the Coosa Riverkeeper fulfill its vision of a fishable, swimmable, drinkable Coosa River.

The first stage, Lake Neely Henry Open, is scheduled to begin at first safe light on Saturday, March 30, and for many in observance, this will be the first time to see some of the tournament’s interesting rules. For instance, competitors are allowed to drive to any spot they wish within the tournament boundaries to put their kayaks in the water. There are also no live wells and no weigh-ins, keeping the negative impact on the fish to a minimum.

“You don’t actually keep the fish,” Chitwood explains. “You put them right back after you catch them, so we call it a virtual stringer because it only exists on your camera.” Tournament scoring is based on length, which Chitwood says is just as fair a competitive measure as other tournaments that are weight-based.

At the beginning of each tournament, every competitor is given a special fish ruler, and once an angler reels in a catch, he or she places the fish in the trough-like ruler and then takes a photo of the fish on a digital camera or cell phone camera. At the end of the day, anglers arrive with a “digital stringer” instead of live fish they may have kept in a live well for several hours. “So, generally it takes a minute or two to do all that once you reel it in, take a picture or two of it and put it back in the water where it came from as opposed to a bass tournament, where they might give you a poorly ventilated live well where the fish stay for several hours,” he says.

Chitwood says this method is less stressful on the black bass varieties – primarily large mouth and spotted bass – that are allowed during a Coosa Riverkeeper tournament. The goal, Chitwood says, is to create an alternative to traditional fishing tournaments by keeping mortality rates low and, thus, a healthier Coosa River ecosystem. At a poorly run tournament, in the middle of a hot summer’s day with poor live well conditions, fish mortality can be high, Chitwood says. “At kayak fishing tournaments, we keep fish mortality rates really low. Almost all of them will survive and become larger bass.”

The first two stages of the three-stage tournament – the Lake Neely Henry Open in March and the Logan Martin Open in June – are each one-day, three-fish-limit tournaments where only the three biggest fish are counted. “That way it gives people who catch a larger quantity of fish an advantage, but not so much that you can just go out and catch a bunch of little ones. Good combination of quantity versus quality.”

The final tournament of the year is the Coosa Classic, a two-day event Oct. 26-27 at the Coosa Outdoor Center in Wetumpka and is a four-fish stringer, with only the two biggest fish from each day counted for the final score. The Coosa Classic is the final event, where the Blackjack Lands Angler of the Year will be crowned at the end of the tournament. The grand prize is a Primo ceramic grill, donated by Blackjack Lands.

To learn more about kayak fishing, Coosa Riverkeepers or to register for the Coosa Canoe and Kayak Fishing Tournament, go online at www.coosakayakfishing.com.

Birmingham Sailing Club

Group’s history in St. Clair predates creation of Logan Martin Lake

Story by Carol Pappas
Photos by Jerry Martin

Atop a shoreline hill overlooking a mile-wide opening of Logan Martin Lake stands a piece of history.

On Aug. 7, 1962, it wasn’t there at all, but neither was the lake.

Even so, a group of sailing enthusiasts thought it was the perfect place to build a clubhouse when the lake did come, and the Birmingham Sailing Club was born.

The late Sam Caldwell Jr., who worked for Alabama Power Co., the lake’s creator, began his search for that perfect piece of real estate long before the contract was signed on that late summer afternoon.

His children, Skip Caldwell and Marietta Williams, remember the long rides in the back of the family station wagon as their father — armed with geotechnical drawings of the proposed lake — would scour the countryside.

Marietta remembers “endless dirt roads while Dad looked at property and spoke with owners — farmers in battered frame houses; of Dad explaining, ‘This will all be underwater,’ and me thinking, ‘No way!’ ”

Skip recalls those days, too. “I can remember spending a lot of time driving in the car, and Dad would tell us when we were driving into an area that would be underwater, or if it was close to the shoreline. I was too young to really grasp the concept as I remember looking as far ahead as I could see on the road looking for water so we would not accidentally drive into the new lake!”

On that August afternoon, as the sun was setting, Caldwell and Herb Hager sat on the front porch of the land’s owner and his family. When they explained their purpose, the family seemed “dubious about the use of the property for a club, apparently thinking about a night club or honky-tonk,” the elder Caldwell wrote in a history penned 50 years later. One family member even suggested that the contract specify no dancing allowed on the premises.

Caldwell used a blank Uniform Real Estate Sales Contract and filled it out in pen and ink. Four acres fronting approximately 418 feet on proposed Logan Martin Reservoir, it said. Purchase price? $6,000 with $1,000 earnest money and $5,000 due on closing. And the initial deal was done.

Additional lots would be purchased by July 1963, giving the club 1,000 feet of shoreline. The clubhouse would be built along with boat ramps and floating docks as the lake began to fill. The first boats in the water were launched Thursday, July 16, 1964, “with the Commodore beating the Vice Commodore by about 30 minutes,” Commodore Caldwell wrote.

A report dated Aug. 7 of that year put the lake elevation at 460 feet, which is normal winter pool. It was thought the level would remain there until May 1965, when it would rise to its summer elevation of 465 feet for the very first time.

Today’s club
A lot of winter and summer levels have come and gone since that time, but the constant has been the Birmingham Sailing Club.

Caldwell’s children say it is still what their father and founding members envisioned when they built it. Caldwell didn’t want a yacht club, he wanted a sailing club. “He wanted a club that is open to anybody that is interested in sailing, not a country club on the water,” Skip said, noting that over the years, members continued with the visions of the founders.

That, he said, “has resulted in one of the premier inland sailing sites in the country. I recently found some of the original plans of the sailing club and with small exceptions, today’s club is exactly as the original plans show.”

A new day, same goals
Tate Beckham counts himself lucky to be a part of it all. A relative newcomer to the club of 165 members, he joined in 2007. He sailed a bit as a kid in Florida, but he grew up in Sylacauga not knowing the club existed.

When he grew older, he wanted to get back into sailing, and someone gave him a boat. He eventually found his way to the Birmingham Sailing Club after being introduced by Rick Scarborough. “When I went to the club the first time, people were sailing. There were all walks of life — doctors, lawyers, construction workers. They had the same wants and enthusiasm. That was it. I was there. The common denominator was they love sailing.”

Now, Commodore Tate Beckham talks of the club and its impact with an apparent longing to share with others the rewards he has known.

There are plenty of crewing opportunities, which is “a great way to get into it.” It is a chance to crew with people who know what they are doing and to learn the functions of the boat.

“Come out any time and 85 percent of the time, if you show up, someone will take you out sailing,” he said. It is a sport and a love to be shared.

There are “learn-to-sail” classes twice a year in the spring and fall. A junior sailing program complete with a summer sail camp gets the younger generation started early.

Major October regattas draw sailors and spectators from all around the southeast, and locals often find their perfect spectator spot on land and on water just to watch.

Just about every Sunday at 2 p.m., you can see a core group racing — puffed white sails, then colorful spinnakers bob along the horizon. An intermittent horn blowing its signals, and sails flapping and snapping in the wind seem to be the only sounds you hear.

It is quite a sight to behold for novice and enthusiast alike. It is like a secret, buried treasure one would ordinarily want to keep for himself. Only this one is best when it is shared.

Hidden Treasure

Gulf Creek Canyon’s beauty
preserved for future generations

Story by Samantha Corona
Photos by Jerry Martin
Photos courtesy of Frank Emory
and Ed Orth

As the sun rises over Gulf Creek Canyon, Joyce Lanning makes her tea and carries it down to Picnic Point to take it all in.

The cabin, nestled in the woods of Chandler Mountain, is a retreat for Lanning, and her husband, Jerry. The Birmingham-based couple escapes to their St. Clair County hideaway to enjoy nature and all it has to offer.

“It is a beautiful place and a wonderful spot to enjoy,” she says. “I go to Picnic Point in the mornings to watch the sunrise and thank the sun for coming up.”

Picnic Point is just one of three areas the Lannings have discovered and named along their more than 200 acres of property, and it is one of many areas the couple has donated to the Alabama Nature Conservancy as part of the official Gulf Creek Canyon Preserve.

“We wanted to preserve it for future generations, so that they can enjoy it after we’re no longer in the picture,” Jerry said.

Standing from Bonsai Point, it is easy to see why. Complete with a small pine tree twisted into a Bonsai-style shape, the Point’s large rock ledge looks out over a sea of trees, nature and wildlife that is nothing short of breathtaking. The view encompasses acres of forest, steep drop-offs and naturally worn caves embedded in some of the whitewashed mountains.

The sounds of nearby waterfalls bring a steady, but serene background noise to the space, and the occasional bird and rustle of leaves seem like an orchestrated collaboration.

On this late summer day, the green shade of leaves is dominant. But Keith Tassin, The Nature Conservancy’s Director of Terrestrial Conservation, says fall color brings an even more scenic view, and in winter the trees open up.

“After the leaves have all fallen off in the winter months, you can see straight through to the creek below or across to the waterfall,” Tassin said. “It’s hard to find a time of year when there isn’t a great view.”

The Lannings bought the property in 1996, after visiting with friends who owned neighboring land.

“Our friends loved the property up there, and we enjoyed visiting,” Jerry said. “After talking about it, Joyce wanted to see if there was something that could be done to preserve it.”

As a retired real estate and property attorney, Jerry was familiar with the requirements, and the Lannings set the wheels in motion.

The couple acquired 200-plus acres of land in the deal, and in the time since, the couple donates some of those acres each year to the Nature Conservancy. To date, about 190 acres are currently under the protection and observation of the environmentally-focused group.

The Nature Conservancy is a global organization formed to help preserve and protect ecologically vital lands, waters, plants and animals for future generations.

Conservancy chapters span across 30 countries, all 50 states in the U.S., and a number of counties throughout Alabama, specializing in providing care and protection for individual areas and the world’s most endangered resources.

Jerry served as a former board member for the Conservancy and has a long-standing relationship with the group. Dry Creek Preserve off Highway 231 in St. Clair County is also a Nature Conservancy property.

“Like Dry Creek, Gulf Creek Canyon is another great area in St. Clair County that many people might not know about,” Tassin said. “It is a very rich area, full of plants and resources.”

While some preserves are open to the public for hiking, biking and general touring, Tassin said the rocks and cliffs at Gulf Creek are too much of a safety risk right now for outside visitors.

The Nature Conservancy is open to schedule escorted visits with environmental enthusiasts and donors, but ask that interested hikers or adventurers leave this one to the professionals.

However, the creek below is a public draw for one extreme sport – white water rafting.

Tassin said the rapids flowing from Loop Road down to Beason Cove Road is a major attraction for those who enjoy rafting, kayaking and canoeing along the Alabama waters.

According to riverfacts.com and oars.com, the stretch of Gulf Creek river runs 2.2 miles and is rated a Class V for intense and violent rapids with steep drops, waterfalls, massive waves and constricted channels.

“This is definitely no place for amateurs,” he smiled.

Encouraging conservation
For the Lannings, the Gulf Creek Canyon property isn’t about just one hobby or interest, it’s about protecting a place where people can get outside, enjoy themselves and learn more about the natural beauty in Alabama.

“Nature can be one of our teachers, too,” Joyce said. “I have profound gratitude for the world we live in, and I want others to share that with me.”

The couple has offered up day trips and weekend-long stays at the cabin for environmental fundraisers like the Cahaba River Society, the Freshwater Land Trust, and of course, the Nature Conservancy.

Both Jerry and Joyce are involved in a number of organizations and activities dedicated to preserving the environment and ensuring the resources we have today will still be around tomorrow. Their hope is to raise money for these worthy causes and to increase awareness on the importance of preserving lands.

“A land donation can be many acres, or as small as one acre. And it doesn’t have to have a rare plant or animal to be considered a preserve,” Jerry said. “All the landowner has to have is the desire to protect a part of their property.”

If a property owner is interested in preserving a site, or even a portion of a site, Jerry said owners can reach out to any certified 501c3 non-profit environmental agency about obtaining a conservation easement. They are restrictions a landowner puts on their own land, specifying its uses and protecting its resources.

“Donating land can be a benefit for the non-profit organization, a benefit for the land owner and a benefit for those who are able to enjoy the property for many years to come,” he said. “It’s an important gift.”

For Joyce, the minute she saw Gulf Creek Canyon, she knew it needed to be preserved and showcased as beautiful space and scenery here in Alabama.

“When our friends were looking for their property, they said they were looking for North Carolina,” she laughed. “And they found it in St. Clair County.”