Dead silence. Pitch dark. Bitter cold. An eerie feeling.

The sound startles me: “hoo-h’HOO—hoo-hoo.”

The recording ends, and the silence returns.

The rhythmic strokes of the oar pleasantly break the silence of the night. As we move from the bank, the still waters of the river are interrupted by ripples. Framed by a few late-night clouds, a harvest moon illuminates our commotion. Section four is done; it is 5:30 in the morning and still no sign of owls.

The morning began at 3:21 when Casey, a field researcher, shook me from the sleep that began only a few hours earlier. I was sleeping on a bunk in the field house, which in peak summer months is surrounded by tents of research assistants. But in the off season, I won a spot inside.

The October night was near freezing, so we layered our bodies, loaded up the canoes and piled in the truck. I was tagging along on what is fittingly called an owl prowl.

The owl prowl is part of a five-year study, funded by Dow Chemical and headed by Dr. John Giesy and managed by Dr. Matt Zwernick of MSU. It aims to determine scientifically if there are significant effects from the dioxins in the Tittabawassee flood plain released by the Dow Chemical Plant in Midland, Mich. The study uses multiple lines of evidence to examine several species up and down stream from the Dow plant. Eventually, the team’s research will help decision makers determine if the cost and disruption of remediation is necessary or if the site can be left to repair itself.

In the truck, late-night favorites like “Lay Down Sally” played on the short drive from the field house to the launch site on the Tittabawasee River in Freeland, Mich. We drove off the road and onto the lawn of the aqua range, a wetter version of a driving range owned by a Freeland resident, who had given the researchers permission to use the land as a launch site for their study.

Casey and Dusty unloaded the canoe. We outfitted it with a GPS unit, waterproof notebook, CD player and a large box with two speakers. We pulled on our waders and climbed into the chilly canoe.

The distance we were traveling on the river was divided into seven sections. Casey was in the front of the boat carefully watching the GPS, and as we approached the beginning of a section, she would signal to head toward the riverbank.

We held to the bank to resist the current while Dusty played the recording: “Hoo-h’HOO—hoo-hoo.” Silence. “Hoo-h’HOO—hoo-hoo.” Silence. This cycle would continue for 7 minutes. No answer.

Who should answer? Great horned owls, nocturnal predators that will threaten other owls in their territory. The sound track we are playing is from Cornell University’s ornithology department.

Never speaking above a whisper, Dusty and Casey explain that this part of the research is to estimate the owl population along the Tittabawassee River. It is one part of a larger Michigan State University ecological risk assessment.

Three sections down the river and three unanswered calls later, I can no longer feel my feet.

Sitting at section four, I hear a loud flapping above my head — an owl? Dusty says it is a Great Blue Heron; the stealthy owl’s flight can only be seen, not heard. It was nearing 6 a.m., and I was beginning to give up hope.

We cut through the glowing morning fog to find a bank near the fifth section. The moonlight is so bright a tree casts a shadow over the bank. We glide up next to a stump and begin the recorded call.

“Hoo-h’HOO--hoo-hoo.” Silence. “Hoo-h’HOO--hoo-hoo.” Then I hear it. Faintly in the distance, an owl echoes the call. I think I am only hearing the echo in my own head.

“Is that it?” I ask. Dusty nods, and I feel the cold wear off. The eerie sound was something even Poe could not describe.

The CD plays. The owl answers again; this time he is much closer.

We sit and listen. There are now two owls answering our call. Success.

After lingering to hear their haunting call, we continue on. We will skip section 6 so the owls do not follow us. Section 7 proves fruitless, but the prowl was successful.

We climb out of the canoe onto numb feet at Imerman Park. Our bodies are so cold it is difficult to tie down the canoe. We get the canoe loaded and huddle for warmth in the truck. Shortly after 7 a.m., we return to the house, just as the sun begins to lighten the night sky.

Since MSU does not own any land along the Tittabawassee River, it was crucial to gain access to the river and the surrounding floodplain from area residents. According to Zwernick, 90 percent of the land owners in the study area allow access for the study and about half of the residents are actively interested in the study and its outcome.

Species used in the study are sentinel species, or indicator species, because they quickly show the effects of contamination. All species are examined using different methods, including blood testing, tagging, nest and scat analysis and even video observation. Some of the species used in the study include the Great Blue Heron, Belted King Fisher, American Mink, Short-tailed Shrew, American Robin, Bluebird and, of course, the Great Horned Owl.

The owl prowl was a unique experience full of mystique. The images of the harvest moon illuminating the banks are some that I will never forget, and I wish the research team many more beautiful nights in the last two years of their study.

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Karly A. Pence is senior double-majoring in journalism and geography at MSU. This is her second appearance in EJ. Contact Karly at pencekar@msu.edu.