Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, January 31, 1993 TAG: 9302030274
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: F-3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BILL SAMPSON
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
FRAUD IN PUNXSUTAWNEY
I SUSPECT that, given a choice, no self-respecting groundhog would want to live anywhere near Punxsutawney, Pa. At least not at nearby Gobbler's Knob, for it is there at the so-called "Weather Capital of the World" that members of the Punxsutawney Ground Hog Club gather each Feb. 2 to declare officially what woodchucks everywhere already know for a fact: namely, that we are in for another six weeks of wintry weather.Of course, there's a lot of talk and speculation all across this fair country of ours as to whether or not Marmota monax actually sees his shadow on any given Groundhog Day. But I can practically guarantee that he doesn't, no matter where he resides, or whether the day is sunny or cloudy - the reason being simply that he doesn't come out to look.
You see, when M. monax hibernates, he hibernates.
Actually, even the persistent people of Punxsutawney finally realized that you don't just flush out a wild woodchuck in midwinter and ask for his opinion on the weather. For a number of years now, they have been providing their own, tame groundhog for the annual ceremonies. They've even added central heating to the special den atop Gobbler's Knob where they ensconce their sleepy-eyed prognosticator.
Of course, it's all in fun, but - as I suggested earlier - no groundhog in his right mind wants to be interviewed this Tuesday.
Some of his close relatives don't hibernate at all, and some, like the flying squirrel, emerge briefly from their dens during warm spells. But when M. Monax hits the hay, he's there to stay.
Scientists tell us that not only does this large, bushy-tailed rodent lose consciousness, but his heart rate and respiration slow to a near standstill, and his body temperature drops by many degrees.
The groundhog is actually a very industrious fellow. But his work is seasonal, and he can afford an extended winter vacation.
He begins preparing for it in late summer, consuming large amounts of grasses, fruits and vegetables. Thus, he builds up great reserves of body fat which will carry him safely and comfortably through his long winter sleep. An adult groundhog normally weighs about 8 pounds, but by hibernation time he may easily weigh as much as 14 pounds.
Since he doesn't have to lay up stores of food in his den, he concentrates on comfort-conditioning - with lots of soft leaves and grasses for both bedding and insulation. The usual two entrances to a typical ground hog den are quite waterproof, too, because this stocky engineer tunnels them first upward, then downward into the several rooms that he, his mate and offspring occupy at various seasons of the year.
Groundhog, woodchuck, marmot - whichever you prefer to call him - you can't help but respect him. If nothing else, he is one of the greatest energy conservationists of all time. He has no need for a wristwatch, alarm clock or calendar, and he doesn't care a whit about man's astronomical calculations regarding the vernal equinox.
He will get up and go calmly about his business when nature tells him that spring is really here - and not a moment sooner.
Since most of us humans watch rather closely for genuine signs of spring, I suggest that the Punxsutawney Ground Hog Club might do us all a much greater service by reporting the actual appearance of a real, wild woodchuck in, say, late March or early April. After all, it's going to be at least that long before winter is finally over - no matter what transpires in that west-central Pennsylvania community.
In case you're wondering what the remainder of winter has in store for Southwest Virginia, you might try consulting the Old Farmer's Almanac or even the U.S. Weather Bureau. But don't try to roust out your friendly, neighborhood groundhog. He's sacked out for the duration.
Come to think of it, that might not be such a bad idea.
Bill Sampson lives in Roanoke.