It’s 10 o’clock on a summer night along a gravel road anywhere in Iowa. In the farm pond next to the road a raucous chorus of male frogs are making themselves heard as they vie for mates. A volunteer stands clipboard in hand, ear cocked, mentally sorting out each of the calling species which are using this seemingly ordinary pond.

  Skip over to a Saturday morning by a river where another volunteer has binoculars and a spotting scope trained on the tallest tree in the vicinity. In this tree is a huge nest, home to two bald eagles and their young. A peaceful hour is spent watching one of the most spectacular birds in North America.

  Every year, all across Iowa, citizen scientists are making enormous contributions to wildlife conservation. Volunteers are trained through the Iowa Department of Natural Resources’ Volunteer Wildlife Monitoring Program (VWMP).

  “The Volunteer Wildlife Monitoring Program provides an opportunity for adults who love the outdoors and wildlife to be directly involved with the conservation and monitoring of Iowa’s resources. The work done is crucial to the well-being of these species,” said Stephanie Shepherd, wildlife biologist with the Iowa Department of Natural Resources’ (DNR) wildlife diversity program.

  Every March and April, Iowa DNR staff travel the state leading training workshops, readying folks to collect data on some of Iowa’s critical wildlife. So what are these critical wildlife species?

  One training workshop focuses on some of Iowa’s more spectacular bird species such as bald eagles, ospreys and peregrine falcons. Volunteers are taught how to collect data on specific nesting sites around the state and submit pertinent data such as how many young birds fledge.

  “This data collection requires lots of patience and some good optics in order to watch the nest from a distance and not disturb the birds,” Shepherd said. Last year volunteers reported on more than 100 bald eagle nests across the state.

  The second survey requires a keen ear.

  Volunteers are trained to listen to and recognize the 16 species of frogs and toads in Iowa based on their breeding calls. In 2016, volunteers covered 55 survey routes which translate into roughly 400 wetland sites monitored for frog and toad activity.

  “The frog and toad surveyors are particularly special because they have to drive back country roads at night along an identified route to perform the survey. I think most feel that exploring the Iowa wilds at night is a unique experience and opportunity,” Shepherd said.

  Interested volunteers must register for and attend a training workshop. The Iowa DNR is partnering with the Iowa, Woodbury and Winnebago County conservation boards to host the following workshops.

  Anyone interested in being a Bald Eagle Nest Monitor must participate in some training March 17 in Forest City, hosted by the Winnebago County Conservation Board from 12:30 – 4:30 pm. The location will be announced soon.

  The workshop required to participate in the Frog and Toad Call Survey is April 10 at the Nature Center at Lake Iowa Park, hosted by Iowa County Conservation Board from 6:30 to 9:30 pm.

  Another will be held April 12 at the Dorothy Pecaut Nature Center near Sioux City, hosted by Woodbury County Conservation Board from 6:30 to 9:30 pm.

  There is a $5 fee to cover workshop materials.

  For more information, go to http://www.iowadnr.com/vwmp/ or e-mail vwmp@dnr.iowa.gov.

  Visit your state’s department of conservation’s web site to see about volunteer programs in your state.

  I only have two memories of fishing as a young child. The first memory, I must have been about seven or eight years old and I had gone fishing with my cousin Babe in Meander Creek, before it flows into Meander Reservoir. He was seven years older than me and living right next door to me more like a brother than a cousin. I still enjoy fishing with Babe to this day in spite of the events of that morning. I don't remember actually fishing that day or even wanting to for that matter. But I do remember walking along the narrow path that ran along the creek, examining everything that looked interesting, which was pretty much everything. I was ‘'exploring’'. I did that often as a child.

  I came across this 'rope' that ran from under a small bush, across the path and disappeared into the water. I was sure that there just had to be something valuable tied to the end of that rope. So, I reached down and grabbed it to pull it in and claim my treasure. The rope slithered thru my hands. It was a water snake. “AAWWWWWKKKKK!"

  It was my first encounter with a snake of any kind, and it was huge. It was the largest snake I have ever seen even to this day. Heck, as I recall, it had to be forty or fifty feet long and I think it had horns. I'm pretty sure it had flames coming from its nostrils too. It could have easily swallowed a cow whole much less a small child like me. I ran screaming, terrified back to where Babe was fishing. I don't know if I told him what had happened. I don't know if he even asked. To say I was traumatized would be an understatement. I can't stand snakes to this day. I avoid them like the plague. I won't even own a ‘plumbers snake' because of that incident.

  The second memory I have was pretty memorable, too. I had to be about nine or ten years old. My Uncle Gus took me fishing at McKelvey Lake in Youngstown, Ohio. McKelvey Lake is in the McGuffey and Jacobs Road area of Youngstown. Back then, it was a pretty nice little lake and a nice area to live. These days when you occasionally see an article in the Youngstown Vindicator mentioning McKelvey Lake, it most likely won’t be a fishing article. Odds are it will be about pulling a body or a stolen car or a stolen car containing a body from the water. Times have changed.

  Anyway, my Uncle Gus was quite the fisherman. He would rather be fishing than just about anything else in life. I don't know if you could say he taught me how to fish but I'm sure he taught me something that day. He even had his own personal worm pit in his backyard. I remember the evening before we went fishing we filled a coffee can with the biggest, fattest, juiciest nightcrawlers you'd ever seen in your life. I helped dig them with an old rusty pitch fork that stayed in the worm pit for that purpose.

  I can remember many summer nights walking the lawn in the dark with my Aunt Olga after a good rain, flashlight in hand picking nightcrawlers to put in that worm pit.

  She had a secret recipe for getting those worms, too. This wasn't her first rodeo. She mix dry mustard powder with warm water and applied it to the wet ground with an old sprinkling can, sometimes pouring it directly into the worm holes to get the ones that escaped her grasp and slipped into the safety of their underground bunkers. It wouldn't take more than a minute before that old worm would be squiggling and wiggling up out of that hole. I'm sure his skin was on fire. Man that was big fun! I loved being on their 'farm'.

  You see, I got to spend four or five weeks at their 'farm' every summer. My grandparents, who were raising me, called it my ''summer vacation''. In hindsight, I suspect it was more of a vacation for them than for me. But I loved it and I looked forward to it every summer. I remember once telling the father of one of my friends about my upcoming 'vacation' on the farm. He asked how big the farm was and I told him I wasn't exactly sure but I described it as being hundreds of acres.

  Well looking back now, I realize it was probably all of 3/4 of an acre or less. But heck, it had a garden that was bigger than the city lot I grew up on. It seemed enormous to me! And, they had peach trees, plum trees, cherry trees, a pear tree, raspberry bushes and grape arbors. In their garden they grew everything imaginable. They canned everything for winter use. In the evenings my Uncle Gus would take me for long walks in some nearby woods and we'd pick apples and blackberries. The next day my Aunt Olga would bake pies and serve it up with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream that evening as we watched TV. It was great. I loved going there. I always thought they were farmers.

  I found out years later that they weren't farmers they were just poor. Once a month they got something from the Government they called ‘monkey meat’. It resembled Spam and came in a five pound loaf. They got the ''Government cheese'', too. My grandparents had that same cheese but they bought theirs at the store and it was called Velveeta. We ate plenty of Government cheese and fried monkey meat sandwiches at the farm.

  We ate lots of other good stuff, too. We ate my Aunt Olga's canned peaches, pears, cherries, rhubarb, apples and she baked pies of all kinds. I had raspberries in real cream for breakfast in the morning and fresh picked cherries and ice cream at night. I don't ever remember being hungry and I was never ready to go home when my vacation was over. I never knew they were poor. Truthfully, I don't think they knew they were poor, either. Looking back, they may have been the richest people I have ever known.

  Anyway, the next day we go fishing at Liberty Lake. Now, I don't know if I received any lessons on putting worms on the hook that day or on casting that worm, hook, and softball size bobber into the water. I certainly don't remember any. I don't remember catching any fish, either. What I do remember however, is my Uncle Gus staring down in utter disbelief several times at my tiny little hands wrapped around that cork handled rod and muttering angrily under his breath about a $#@#^@!& birds nest! And there was that black fishing line that resembled sewing thread and it was everywhere. I remember looking around for that birds nest that he was obviously ''really mad'' about, but I didn't see one.

  I guess a baitcasting reel is not a good starter kit for a ten year old trying to learn how to cast. I don't remember my Uncle Gus ever taking me fishing again after that day. In fact, I don't recall ever going fishing again until well after returning from Viet Nam as a young man. Like I said earlier, I don't know if you could say he taught me how to fish but I'm sure he taught me something that day. I won’t own a baitcasting reel to this day!

  Somewhere on my journey to being the hap hazard fisherman I am today I acquired most of the knowledge that I am more than happy to share with others. The rest I looked up or made up as I went along! Most of this information is timeless. That means that there will probably never be a time when you find it useful, but, for what it's worth, there it is.