Matt Hendricks’ latest photo book celebrates the mountain regions of the DMV

Mark Hendricks is a former marine mammal biologist who used his camera as a tool for storytelling and conservation. A native of Baltimore City, Hendricks is an adjunct professor at Towson University, where he co-directs the Animal Behavior Program. He has long trained his lens on Maryland’s coastal waters and the Chesapeake Bay basin. His first book, Natural Wonders of Assateague IslandWinner of the 2017 Foreword Reviews award, went beyond the island’s pristine beaches and wild horses to document the area’s stunning biodiversity.

His latest photo book, The Central Appalachians: Mountains of the Chesapeake Baycelebrates the flora and fauna of the mountainous regions of Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virginia and West Virginia, which provide most of the Chesapeake Bay’s freshwater. His seasonal portfolios include essays on ecologists, encounters with black bears and a bobcat – and a hiker from Baltimore. Hendricks’ work has appeared in National Geographic, AudubonAnd Nature photographer. His images are not only beautiful, but also deepen our understanding of the iconic Eastern Mountain Range and its ecological significance.

First, I have to ask you about the photo of pink American flamingos on a pond in south-central Pennsylvania, not far from Baltimore. Pink flamingos as garden decorations are common here, but not the real ones, right?
They are very, very rare. A flock of flamingos wandered through Cuba and the Caribbean, got blown off course by a hurricane, and – not surprisingly – appeared in Florida, then further north in Georgia, the Outer Banks, and then Pennsylvania. The last sighting in Maryland was in the 1970s on Assateague Island.

Also incredible is the image of the black bear cub looking at the camera while climbing a tree in the George Washington National Forest.
Their population in the central Appalachians is increasing. Ansel Adams always said chance favors the prepared mind, and I have been there many times, but that was a lucky moment. There is also a picture of a female bear I knew and her two cubs. It’s funny too, when you watch bear cubs, it’s just like watching cubs wrestle with each other.

What was the turning point for your career change from marine mammal biologist to nature photographer and author?
As a child I had National Geographic on the bookshelves and coffee table books about the Amazon and the Serengeti. And I always had my personal “art” projects – usually with cheap plastic roll film cameras that I got developed at Rite Aid. When I started taking it more seriously, it forced me to become a better nature lover, and then I also liked the idea of ​​combining art and science. I thought that if I published stories – I write too – I could reach an audience that I couldn’t reach any other way. Now I have this “passport” to explore things with photography that I wouldn’t have had if I had just stuck with marine mammal biology.

Well, the photos and story of the bull elk herd in north-central Pennsylvania certainly feel like a map to another time and place.
Yes, but everything in the book is also just an hour, two, or four drive from Baltimore. The elk were reintroduced to Pennsylvania in 1913 after the last eastern elk were killed. At dawn and dusk during mating season, they give that mournful horn call. The males also challenge each other, and you’ll see these epic battles between evenly matched giants, as if you were in Montana.

I also like the photos and story of retired National Aquarium executive director and frequent hiker Bill Minarek – and your reconnection.
I was a volunteer in high school and a part-time employee and later a dolphin trainer at the aquarium. That’s where I met my wife, who was also a dolphin trainer. Bill was on his way to Western Maryland, so we met up and I hiked the trail to Annapolis Rocks with him. The last time I saw him, he was this dapper guy who looked like a supervisor, and then I saw this body like a long-distance runner with a scraggly beard and a big old backpack – and that’s what he was. The idea of ​​hiking the entire trail came to him when he was a Boy Scout and his scoutmaster pointed to a white marker on the Appalachian Trail and told the troop, “If you go that way, you’ll end up in Maine. If you go that way and don’t stop, you’ll end up in Georgia.” That idea never left him. When I met him – Maryland is halfway there – he was in the thick of it. He was living it. And he did it.