Showing posts with label huron river. Show all posts
Showing posts with label huron river. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

The Effluent Chronicles: 1920

Try to wrap your mind around this: in 1920, the municipal sewer system drained directly into the Huron River.

No water treatment plant. No filter. No sterilization, purification, or de-ickyfication.

Swim, anyone?

In October of 1920, the water level dropped and the effluent was piling up in the Huron. The aroma wafted over area homes. Delightful when you're sitting down to your home-cooked meal or snuggling into bed. In 1920, the population of Ypsilanti was around 7,500. So that's 7,500 "donations" to the problem every day--more if on a high-fiber diet.

Luckily winter was right around the corner.

Stay tuned for more entries into the Effluent Chronicles.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

19th-Century Carp Invasion

Dusty D loves poking around online in Google Books through all of the obscure reports by 19th-century game commissioners and things like that. In doing so, I discovered that the familiar Huron River carp that we all know and, er, love, is in fact not native to Michigan waters. Like the Asian carp threatening to invade Lake Michigan, the common carp slurping the undersides of Huron River lily pads were introduced. They were distributed by the official state environmental org over a hundred years ago as, IIRC, a food fish that was cheap to keep on little artificial ponds dug on farmers' farms. Of course, they escaped, and now can be found everywhere.

Dusty D does not know the environmental impact that the common carp has had--nowhere near that which the Asian carp would likely present. Nor do I know much about carp at all; how they winter over, how many actually live in the Ypsi stretch of the Huron, what their range and diet is. And I haven't tasted one, nor am eager to. I am fond of them, though. Trying to decide if this is a good subject for an upcoming story and if, presented with the option, the people would rise up and demand a story about the long-ago invasion of our quiet and venerable Huron River brother, the common carp. Photo by Ingrid Taylar.