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Soon the commissioners of Guilford and Rockingham counties will decide whether to let Bluegreen Corp. build a golf course community next to the Haw River and draw water from the river. The decisions the commissioners make will affect the future of the fledgling Haw River State Park and the nature of our community.

How badly we want this park, what are we willing to sacrifice, and how extensive and inclusive it needs to be are questions we ought to be asking now, since we have only one chance. Once the land is developed there will be no returning.

The parcel in question is located south of the river near Church Street. It is my understanding that the owner wanted to sell the land and the state wanted to buy it. But the state was slow to move, and the owner accepted an offer from Bluegreen.

North Carolina has an office for the exclusive purpose of acquisitions of land for state parks, but it is apparently a cumbersome process to sell land to the state. North Carolina has the money earmarked to purchase the land, but has not gone forward.

Our county commissioners might not be able to prod the state office to fulfill its commitments, but they do have the power to grant or deny the rezoning and water usage proposals before them. As our elected officials, they surely want as much input on the matter as we can give them.

Shall we make this park our priority and do what we can to ensure it will be the jewel that is envisioned, or shall we decide the park will be good enough without the land in question and the drain on the river?

I am biased in this matter. Wholly biased.

I adore the section of the Haw from U.S. 220 to 29, just where the park is to be. I have walked, canoed and kayaked through it many times, and I know of nothing in the Piedmont closer to genuine wilderness. Although I'm a golfer and enjoy walking around a new course, this is a no-brainer -- our priority should be making this park the crown jewel of the Piedmont. Let's not do anything that jeopardizes that goal.

There are other sites for golf courses -- there is no other place for the Haw River State Park.

Don't Chip Away At The Park

On Labor Day I dragged a kayak from Church Street to Cunningham Mill Road with my friend Vance Arnold, one of the only people I know who will do this sort of thing, and he has been doing it for longer than I have. You have to realize right away that when you put a kayak or canoe in the Haw River in this section it is not likely to float, and that the time you're going to spend actually in the boat is going to be minimal.

Most of time will be spent dragging the boat through cat briars and poison ivy, under or over falling trees, stumbling over submerged sticks, falling in holes in the water or sitting in the water resting up for the next obstacles.

There is an unfortunate accumulation of litter and an overgrowth of brambles under any of the bridges you might choose to access the Haw, but it's good to go ahead and get scratched up from the get-go and understand that's the way it will be.

A fetid smell of rot greeted us on our latest trip. One hundred yards downstream we found a rotting deer carcass in the water. We paused to marvel at the swarming mass of maggots.

"How long will it take them to finish this off and turn into flies?" Arnold said.

Leaving the recycling lesson behind, along with the refuse of careless humans that had mostly been caught in the tangle of the river, as well as the noise of traffic, or other trappings of our day-to-day lives, we fought our way downstream, reaching the first of many extensive wetlands surrounding the river.

Clambering up the muddy river bank and over the lip of earth that paralleled it, we looked down into an expanse of marsh. The saw grass and briars ripped at us as we explored and prevented our wandering far, but there were ample wonders close by. What a miracle that this place had held so much water after such a dry month.

I waded into a puddle and was entranced by little fish darting about in their pool keeping the mosquito population in check.

Dead trees protruded from the wetland, looking as though they had all reached a certain size and then succumbed. Interspersed were pockets of water like the one I stood in. Flowers were everywhere, the most striking being the marsh mallows, those great incongruous white flowers with red centers that look like they belong in Key West. But myriad others were there as well, all species that need to have their feet wet.

"Eric, I love this place." Arnold said.

Returning to the river, I was surprised at the size of the leeches that stuck to my legs. They were not like the little guys that sometimes get on you in the river, and these big fellows made me wonder if the land ever dried up. Some of the land along the river clearly does dry occasionally, and some is more like an extensive marshy lake. We got temporarily lost in an expanse of water that dwarfed the river.

A Precious Resource

Clearly not everyone will want to walk or drag a boat along the Haw or trudge around in the surrounding wetlands. But when the park is complete, everyone will be able from boardwalks, trails or cleared canoe routes to marvel at the extravagant fecundity, the gloriously rich, varied and intricate life that abounds in the Haw River basin.

Surely we don't want to chop away at the edges of this precious resource. Surely we don't want to pump the water out it, its very life, for the sake of another golf course community.

Let your commissioners know what you think.

Eric Schaefer is a freelance outdoors writer. He lives in Reidsville. Contact him at janeric@bellsouth.net