Fifty Years of Fire: Stewarding Muralt Bluff Prairie

Story by Kysh Lindell, The Prairie Enthusiasts AmeriCorps Member
April 2, 2025

From left to right Fred Ochsner, Reynold Zeller, Jonathon Wilde, Deanne DeLaronde and John Ochsner manage the first burn at Muralt Bluff on April 13, 1975. Photo by Gary Eldred.

This April marks the historic 50th anniversary of the first prescribed burn on Muralt Bluff Prairie by early Prairie Enthusiasts—an event that would serve as a catalyst for grassroots prairie conservation in Wisconsin and beyond. But why revisit Muralt Bluff? What does this story have to teach us today?

In the early 1970s, two Albany, WI locals independently discovered a dry, bluff prairie remnant near their hometown in Green County. The site was part of an old cow pasture owned by the Muralt family and had been lightly grazed, but never plowed. Gary Eldred—a young outdoorsman who had previously hunted on the bluff—was working as a seasonal employee with the Wisconsin DNR at the time. While helping build the Sugar River State Trail, Gary grew intrigued by the rare and beautiful native plants he encountered in prairie remnants along the trail and soon blossomed into an amateur naturalist under the guidance of his Wisconsin DNR supervisor, Reynold Zeller. Gary spent much of his spare time traveling the backroads of Green County searching for prairie plants. It was the glowing blades of Indian grass and the curious purple spikes of blazing stars at Muralt Bluff that first drew him in, but the realization that these plants were a tangible connection to an ancient world kept him coming back.

John Ochsner, the son of a local cheesemaking family, met the Muralt Bluff prairie in a more unexpected way. Living just down the road from the property, John frequented the Muralt family’s farm on his milk route. One spring day in 1973, John spotted a group of college students and their professor—famed UW-Madison botanist Hugh Iltis—gathered for a field trip at nearby Abraham’s Woods State Natural Area. Tagging along out of curiosity, he followed as the group visited two UW Arboretum properties—Abraham’s Woods and Oliver Prairie—identifying native plants as they went. Fascinated, like Gary, by the presence of these unfamiliar plants so close to home, John repeatedly returned to Oliver Prairie to identify prairie plants. When he moved into the farmhouse at the base of Muralt Bluff that fall, he began to recognize some of the same native grasses and forbs he had come to know. To his delight, John had found another prairie remnant.

Journalist George Bachay and John Ochsner walk Muralt Bluff, 1974. Bachey was the outdoor writer for the Janesville Gazette for more than 20 years, providing early media coverage about Muralt Bluff and the importance of prairies. Photo by Gary Eldred.

Gary and John independently deepened their connection to Muralt Bluff until one serendipitous day in 1974 when the two happened to meet. Discussing their passion for prairie and Muralt Bluff, it became clear that they shared a mission: to protect the Muralt Bluff prairie, to help those fascinating plants thrive and to share this special place with others who could appreciate its value. Shared curiosity bled into a true prairie partnership as the two secured permission to manage the prairie from the landowners and began informal workdays at the site. Allies emerged from the local conservation community, including members of the Green County Conservation League and assorted friends. These newly fledged Prairie Enthusiasts felt called to act and transform Muralt Bluff with fire. And act they did.

On April 13, 1975, a small group gathered at the southeast corner, eager to coax a fire through this ancient prairie remnant for probably first time since early settlement. The crew consisted of Gary and John, Reynold Zeller, and friends Dan Hazlett, Jonathon Wilde, Deanne DeLaronde, Chuck Philipson, Tim and Peggy Hammerly, and John Ringhand. They were hardly the well-equipped, thoroughly trained burn crew you might meet at a burn today. Most had minimal knowledge or experience with burning, and their firefighting tools consisted of a few shovels, brooms, burlap sacks and two questionable water packs. But the rare chance to bring fire back to a prairie compelled swift action.

Intending only to conduct a test burn on a manageable 1/20th of an acre that day, the crew proceeded with little plan or pretense. John raked a thin line in the dry grass across the north end of the unit—a cursory firebreak—and Reynold unceremoniously dropped a match as the group stood leaning on their tools and chatting. Within thirty seconds, the southerly wind had carried the fire north and over the break, roaring uphill and toward the red cedars that dotted the slopes. “There she goes,” remarked Jon Wilde, and the crew scattered to respond.

Activity was panicked as the crew—and a few spectators—scrambled to contain the escaped fire. Snow shovels were pulled from the back of pickup trucks as makeshift flappers, and shirts and jackets shed in an attempt to swat out the flames. The fire raced through the grassy fuels, leaving a striking black scar and dramatically torching many of the cedars in its path. Terrifying on one hand, but practical on another: “I wasn’t really sure whether I should keep it going or put it out,” recalls Dan Hazlett. In seconds, the fire scorched many of the woody invasive plants that the group had been working to remove from the site.

Despite the initial mayhem, Jon Wilde managed the fire’s west flank well, and the fire soon ran out of fuel as the rest of the crew worked to tamp down the last of the flames. All told, the burn lasted just 20 minutes and consumed five or six acres. The only casualties were a few articles of clothing and $50 owed to the Monticello Fire Department, who had responded to a neighbor’s wildfire call after the burn had already been contained.

After an experience like that, would they ever burn again? “That was without question,” smirks Eldred in response, “we would just be more prepared.”

From left to right: Dan Hazlett, Cliff Kohl, Fred Ochsner and Chuck Philipson extinguishing the last of the flames with unconventional tools. April 1975. Photo by John Ochsner.

What might have traumatized some exhilarated these self-described “prairie freaks.” A chaotic burn was still a burn—an essential, revitalizing process that the Muralt Bluff prairie had not experienced in a very long time. In that instant, the crew became committed to this place, as friends and as stewards. They were the first people since settlement who were willing to learn what this piece of land needed and able to put in the hard work to deliver it. They recognized the incredible history bound deep in the roots of these plants and their responsibility to care for that legacy. The burn was not a failure, but another chance at renewal.

Both the land and the local community responded to the fire remarkably well. As Gary remembers, the spring after that first burn “we had whole hillsides of shooting stars and blazing stars. The whole thing just responded to that fire like a huge breath.” Photos of the striking displays of native flowers and the enthralling story of the burn found their way into the local press thanks to several writers who were connected with the Muralt Bluff crew, including burn crew member Chuck Philipson who wrote for the newspaper in nearby New Glarus.

More than passing publicity, this effort to share the Muralt Bluff story became a grassroots public education campaign on the history and importance of prairies. Wielding a powerful combination of community connections and undeniable enthusiasm, the crew introduced local residents to native prairie plants and wildlife through stories and interviews, photos and illustrations, volunteer days and field trips. Some residents were encountering these native flora and fauna for the very first time in the local paper or on the slopes of Muralt Bluff. Others were renewing an interest in the flowers and insects they had once glimpsed in childhood, but lost sight of as southern Wisconsin’s prairies gave way to pasture, agriculture and development. Soon enough, one could almost guarantee that everyone in Green County had read or seen something about prairies, and many were on board with seeing them managed as prairies—even when that included the somewhat unfamiliar practice of prescribed burning.

By the summer of 1976, Prairie Enthusiasm proved contagious in Green County. Thanks to collaborative efforts to educate the public about prairies and advocate for the protection of this profoundly important natural area, members of the Green County Parks Committee paid a visit to Muralt Bluff to evaluate it for purchase. Thoroughly impressed by the prolific bloom of rough blazing stars and the Muralt Bluff crew’s dedication to caring for this piece of land, the Green County Board of Supervisors soon agreed to purchase and protect the 62.4-acre property using a combination of state and county funds.

Regal fritillary butterfly feeding on wild bergamot, 2017. Photo by Gary Eldred.

As with every site The Prairie Enthusiasts protect, the tale of Muralt Bluff does not end with the inked check. The success at Muralt Bluff spurred these and other early Prairie Enthusiasts to double down on their efforts to find and protect remnant prairies across the Upper Midwest, to form groups of volunteers dedicated to stewarding land and to keep spreading a passion for prairie. All the while, there stood Muralt Bluff—challenging its stewards to experiment, teaching them how to listen to the land and ever urging them to renew their shared commitment to this place.

Though the Green County Board originally assigned official stewardship responsibilities at Muralt Bluff to the Wisconsin DNR, members of the original burn crew and a growing core of Green County prairie-lovers remained the site’s most dedicated volunteers. Ownership of the site was transferred to The Prairie Enthusiasts in 2013, and the Prairie Bluff Chapter continues to steward Muralt Bluff today. Over the last 50 years, Muralt Bluff’s devotees have faced nearly every predicament familiar to prairie practitioners: invasions of sumac, cedar, cherry and plum, burn restrictions, funding challenges, conflicting management styles, disappearing flora and fauna and questions about when, where and how often to mow, cut, treat and burn on the prairie. While some issues could be solved with time, trial and lots of error, others proved mysteries.

While discouraging losses of rare prairie plants, insects and habitats have played out at Muralt Bluff over the years, so too have natural wonders that could renew the curiosity of even the most downtrodden Prairie Enthusiast. Following a drought in 1988, Muralt Bluff exploded in a profusion of rough blazing star (Liatris aspera) and showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa) beyond belief. “I’ve been going up there for 50 years,” reminisces Gary, “I never knew that those plants were there. There’s hundreds and hundreds of them and they’re blooming, so that indicates they were mature plants. God knows how long those root systems have been lying dormant in that soil before the drought shook them up enough to sprout. I was absolutely flabbergasted. It’ll never look like that again in my lifetime, so what is the secret there? How long have those blazing stars been dormant?”

When you stick around long enough, as Muralt Bluff’s devotees have, prairies have a way of surprising you like this. A rare plant emerges, blooms once and folds itself back into the soil, never to be seen again by the same eyes. New grassland birds find tiny pockets of prairie in a sea of corn and soy, making themselves at home as if they have always lived there. Amidst extreme weather events and a rapidly changing climate, the prairie dips into its well of resilience and acts.

This and Muralt Bluff’s many other mysteries bring into focus our role as Prairie Enthusiasts: to recognize what we are losing, and the immense power of what we still have. “Your whole perspective on who we are and what we’re here for changes when you visit Muralt Bluff,” says Prairie Bluff Chapter volunteer Jerry Newman. To steward this place is to humbly return to it with respect, curiosity and wonder, putting in the difficult work to restore a place, all the while knowing that the prairie holds a wisdom much older than you. Like that first burn, prairie conservation is a chaotic, dynamic and deeply collaborative process. The important thing is to keep trying at it, even when the fire jumps your breaks.

In many ways, the Muralt Bluff story endures as the model for The Prairie Enthusiasts’ land protection efforts today. We understand that if we want to save the prairies around us, we must act, and we must do so holistically. Like those early Prairie Enthusiasts, we build trust with landowners and local communities. We share land management knowledge and take initiative to steward land, embracing uncertainty and failures. We connect people with prairies through field trips, work parties, education and art. We find creative ways to raise funds and collaborate with others to further our impact. We do not let our enthusiasm dwindle, even after 50 years. This is a resilient method of conservation because it depends, at its core, on people loving the land enough to want to protect it and make it better. This enthusiasm is alive and well at Muralt Bluff and everywhere there are prairie people, and that is something to celebrate.

40th anniversary of the first burn, 2015. From left to right: John Ochsner, Dan Hazlett, Gary Eldred, Jonathon Wilde, Chuck Phillipson. Photographer unknown.

Invasive red cedar on fire during first burn, April 1975. Photo by Gary Eldred.

This article appeared in the Spring 2025 edition of The Prairie Promoter, a publication of news, art and writing from The Prairie Enthusiasts community. Explore the full collection and learn how to submit your work here. 

About The Prairie Enthusiasts 

The Prairie Enthusiasts is an accredited land trust that seeks to ensure the perpetuation and recovery of prairie, oak savanna, and other fire-dependent ecosystems of the Upper Midwest through protection, management, restoration, and education. In doing so, they strive to work openly and cooperatively with private landowners and other private and public conservation groups. Their management and stewardship centers on high-quality remnants, which contain nearly all the components of endangered prairie communities.