Jim Amidon — Eight environmentally focused groups came together Saturday on a stretch of ground about 10 minutes southwest of town. When the ceremony began, perhaps as many as 200 people had gathered at the edge of a former cornfield in front of a sign that read “Bachner Nature Preserve.”
A pair of Canadian geese flew overhead to signify that it was time to begin.
And with that, David Krohne — longtime biology professor at Wabash and member of the NICHES Land Trust — welcomed the crowd that had come together to celebrate the life and loves of Michael Bachner.
Mike was a 1970 graduate of Wabash and ran the College’s bookstore for 35 years. He was, more than anything, in love with all things natural and wild, especially Sugar Creek.
When Mike died of a sudden heart attack about 18 months ago, his friends tried to imagine a fitting tribute to the man who had introduced the creek’s wonders to literally hundreds of friends, co-workers, and Wabash students.
It all came together Saturday morning when a tract of land with 29 acres fronting Sugar Creek was forever protected from development and named the Bachner Nature Preserve.
Professor Krohne talked about how the Bachner Nature Preserve came to be reality. He said that it was a wonderful collaboration among groups focused on protecting our environment. Spearheaded by the NICHES Land Trust, the preserve was established thanks to the Heritage Trust, Friends of Sugar Creek, The Nature Conservancy, Tipmont REMC, McAllister Foundation, the Indiana Native Plant and Wildflower Society, and Pheasants Unlimited.
I knew Mike well as a co-worker for over 20 years, but it wasn’t until after his death that I came to realize how much Mike meant to Sugar Creek and how much Sugar Creek meant to Mike. He could have settled anywhere in the world; he could have traveled. But he found all he wanted while paddling in the creek that winds its way through Montgomery County — that many believe is the most beautiful stream in the state.
Mike’s daughter, Madeline, told a handful of her favorite stories of her dad’s love affair with Sugar Creek; how he’d often go paddling in the dead of winter and how he delighted when introducing the creek to someone for the first time.
Mike once wrote, “Sliding down the snowy bank, spraying into the flow, I’m immediately immersed, floating in a sparkling world of ice and snow and water. Red-tailed hawks serenely soar above, watching belted kingfishers scold me off their piece of real estate. I’m not alone, but I find some refuge.”
Later in his life, Mike came to realize that there were fewer and fewer access points for paddlers to put into Sugar Creek and that bothered him. Madeline said they were often “run off” by landowners.
Thanks to so many important groups, there will be a spot just a stone’s throw from town where people of all ages and from across the country can access the creek. In time, the Bachner Nature Preserve will provide that access point, including parking.
And after the dedication was over, dozens of Mike’s old friends, co-workers, and a handful of Wabash students (who had never even met Mike), rolled up their sleeves and got to work.
Planting.
We drilled holes deep into the fertile soil, while throngs of volunteers prepped and planted over 5,000 trees — native species that will thrive in this little stretch of the Sugar Creek Valley.
It will take time, but those trees will soon become a forest and a small chunk of cornfield will return to wilderness; native and wild, just like Mike would have wanted.
It was a terrific day — a day when people of this community who genuinely care about the land that surrounds us and the air we breathe — came together to celebrate a lost friend and build something that will forever honor his memory.
All of us laughed and smiled when Professor Krohne reminded us that despite such a special, beautiful Saturday morning — the first, best day of spring — had he been alive, Mike would not have been there.
He would have woken at dawn, grabbed his kayak, and spent the rest of his day on the water, paddling in his own little chunk of the world — the waters of Sugar Creek.
