It’s been awhile since my last post and like usual a lot has been going on! I managed to get final sap boil done right ahead of going up to the Adirondacks to view the solar eclipse with Amy. She’s the reason I spend so much time in Saranac Lake. I will continue to respect her wish for privacy but will be including her presence in my posts as we have adventures together whenever time permits. We had wrestled with a location to view the eclipse as a large turnout was expected for the Adirondacks. I headed up on Sunday morning ahead of the eclipse and we got out to scout a possible location near “The Slow Turn”.We went to a stand of large pines Amy named “The Wisdom Keepers” first then hiked up to a nearby ridge top. It looked promising so we decided it was going to be our location to view the eclipse.
Finding a place to view the eclipse be like…😂
Monday’s weather was great for eclipse viewing! Fairly warm and sunny. We headed out early and got settled into our spot without encountering other people. We enjoyed snacks while waiting for the main event on a comfortable blanket. I rolled in some snow that was still hanging on minus some clothes for a comic relief moment! We got a nice laugh over that! As for the eclipse itself it totally exceeded our expectations! We watched it unfold with our special glasses and when totality hit it was truly a MOONTABS moment! The temperature drop was very noticeable and the birds went quiet as the sudden darkness overtook everything. I didn’t spend valuable time trying for photos as I truly wanted to fully experience the event. And then just like that it was over! Lucky for me I was in the Adirondacks as folks back home in the valley had clouds to contend with just as it occurred! Things continue to align for me and the coincidences can no longer be called that! There’s certain forces at work it appears! I embrace the alignment that arrived on tiny wings it seemed. Manifestations do work it appears! Consider it!
Eclipse viewing ridge. Now called Corona Heights!
Upon returning to the valley I continued to try and rest my knee which has been rather painful throughout the last weeks of sugaring season. I had gotten a cortisone shot recently but it hasn’t solved my issues entirely. I went perch fishing with my friend’s out near the St. Law. River two days in a row as a way to rest it somewhat which was beneficial. We hammered some really nice perch using two hook rigs tipped with tiny minnows! They sure are tasty fried up! Yum! What a great time!
Two day perch catch!
After that I have managed to bring in the remainder of the sugaring mini-tubes and buckets. Washing buckets begins later this afternoon and it’s snowing wet snow! Zane and I rinsed the tubing last week and pressure washed all the white storage containers. Progress seems slow at times but there’s always other things going on. The forest is greening up slowly and the tiny flowers I call the “tiny ones” are thriving despite the continued chilly weather we’ve been having. The muskrats were building up their old houses again recently and shortly after the rain events occurred with huge deluges over a two day period. Inches of rain fell so their predictions came true! I never doubt their advance warnings as they have been clearly accurate far too many times to even question it. How they know remains a mystery however. Too bad I couldn’t talk to them! What wisdom do they possess that they might share? Or is it simple intuitive behavior that touches them somehow? I remain in awe regardless and never see them as simple rodents who should be considered a lesser species. Perhaps we are the lesser species in our arrogant approach to nature and in our destructive tendencies. My spirit energy hints at a larger connection that we as humans have lost somehow. That sixth sense I now call the “5+1”. It is a worthy study to continue. Time, trees, and trails of discovery!
Rising high long before the storms hit!
Last week saw me attending a TILT event in Clayton. I helped with the tern grid installation out on Eagle Wing Shoal. The common tern is plagued by gulls and other predator birds on their nesting sites. The grid keeps the bigger birds out while the smaller terns pass safely through. After that I did some trail stewardship work for IRLC to finish out my day. If you’ve never read any of my posts describing theses two local land trusts then Goggle both TILT and IRLC to learn more about them!
Construction of the the annual tern grid.It’s rather complex when completed!
All of last week’s activities were completed to free up time for a foraging weekend with Amy. I will be featuring it soon as it’s a rather interesting series of events that’s connected to my attempts at better health. Natural food sources surround us here in the valley and several exist right here on the farm Homestead property! So until then this gets things caught up a little! ✍️
The year was 2018.A newly retired and newly single me was looking for something new. At a school conference night I stumbled upon the information desk of a local land trust called Thousand Islands Land Trust. TILT for short. Their friendly representative gave us some informational pamphlets. I soon realized that I was and had been missing out! On all sorts of things! It’s a long story that I may have elaborated on before. What’s important to note is the impact that the local land trust groups would have on not just my life but Zane’s as well. Once I realized the opportunities that volunteering offered I dove in headfirst! To think about the many seminars, events, and work days we participated in that summer amazes me now. I was searching for something and volunteering filled the void. One discovery leading to another. That summer is filled with many happy memories! New friends and acquaintances. New places and trails. A continuing education of nature and the many invasives that are attacking our beautiful region.
Water chestnuts.
I first truly learned about the many invasive species here when I attended a SLELO PRISIM educational seminar. SLELO is short for St.Lawrence Eastern Lake Ontario. PRISM is the Partnership for Regional Invasive Species Management. New York State is divided into 5 PRISMs. We live in SLELO so I focused my attention on them. After attending other seminars hosted by SLELO my interest and knowledge continued to expand. I attended a water quality conference which really enhanced my knowledge of the area we call home. I also attended an A2A seminar where I first learned about the Frontenac Arch. Also called the A2A Corridor. It’s the land situate between the Adirondacks and the Algonquin Park area of Canada. Fascinating subject! But invasive species were of prime interest as the Macomb farm property is infested with the shrub wild honeysuckle and other invasive plants. I wrote a blog about it in 2021. During July of 2018 Zane and I participated in our first ever invasive species removal day as volunteers. Water chestnuts were our target. A new species to me and one I had never heard of until the seminars. It has been spreading across the northeast since about 1880 since escaping the Boston area. It was brought here as a decorative floating plant! Bad idea someone! We traveled south some 60 miles with our canoe for a hand pull event at the Lakeview Management Area near Southwick Park. It was a fun and exciting day working with other volunteers in the swamp marsh extracting bags full of fast spreading water chestnuts. Despite how it might seem hand pulling water chestnuts is a productive manner to stop their spread. An alternative is spraying the infested area with Clearcast. A product similar to the controversial Roundup we have all heard about. A glyphosate itself if my research is correct. I charge each reader to do their own personal research and form their own opinions. I will remain neutral on the subject except to simply state that glyphosates are being found in many of our food sources. They are heavily used by agriculture to supply our need for plentiful food sources. Enough said! Draw your own conclusions!
Clearing wild honeysuckle.
After 2018 our volunteering work fell off considerably. I still managed to do some trail stewardship work but found little time for seminars or other further education. I did manage to attend the SLELO Symposium in the spring of 2019. It was a treat to see Zane and I in the SLELO volunteering video shot in the summer of 2018! People sitting next to me said “Hey that’s you!”. 2018 certainly was a remarkable year! In the fall of 2019 I was one of the lucky individuals chosen to attend the Master Naturalist training weekend near Ithaca, New York. Hosted by Cornell it was a fun two days of education in a variety of subjects. Invasive species, micology, and so much more! As of this moment I still have not completed my requirements for my level one certification. Fast forward through the years 2020,2021, and 2022 and my volunteering efforts were not very impressive honestly. But there was always something more important to fill the days at the time in hindsight. Those days are mostly within these pages.I wanted 2023 to be different! I volunteered for a TILT trail stewardship day back in May then cooked at the TILT summer picnic in June. Then I heard about a SLELO event!
Hunting for water chestnuts on the Oswegatchie River near Heuvelton,New York.
Heuvelton, New York has a hydroelectric dam that creates a rather extensive reservoir behind it. It recent years it has become infested with water chestnuts. In 2022 SLELO volunteers conducted a hand pull in the Oswegatchie River to remove and track water chestnuts. When I read that they would be doing it again this year I decided to volunteer! The village of Heuvelton has been harvesting water chestnuts with a mechanical harvester above the dam this summer to remove the plants before they go to seed. There have been issues despite the many truck loads they removed. Shallow water and tree stumps impede their best efforts. There is a substantial population of water chestnuts remaining above the dam. This summer’s SLELO event concentrated on hand pulling and tracking growth in the sections of river below the dam. The concern is that the water chestnuts might get up into Black Lake. The largely shallow depths of the lake would be a success story for the water chestnuts and a disaster for the lake itself.
Searching the shallows along the river.
All and all the lower Oswegatchie River is not heavily infested. We did hand pull some plants however and retrieved numerous rosettes that had drifted down from above the dam. Harmless we were told as the plant is an annual requiring a seed called a “nutlet” to grow roots for a new plant. It seemed like the day was a success and it was nice to see acquaintances that I hadn’t seen in several years and meet some new people as well.
An old barn along the Oswegatchie River .
So today I once again traveled to Lakeview Management Area for a NYS DEC organized hand pull of water chestnuts. Two other state organizations were represented by workers. SCU was one. New to me. The other was State Parks and Recreation. They had worked at the Heuvelton event also. We cruised the swampy marsh and at first found very little water chestnut. But as the day moved forward we began to find and pull a lot more of it. I felt that there was less of it then in 2018 and a young lady who worked there in 2019 agreed with me.But there’s still a fair amount of it to be removed despite our team efforts. The bag retrieval boat was kept busy hauling pulled plants to the truck on shore. It was nice to back at Lakeview but I was missing Zane being there with me like in 2018. As I sat on the beach next to the sand dunes that reach out towards Lake Ontario I reflected on all that has changed and all that remained the same. The lake and the dunes seem timeless. But I attacked the water chestnuts with a forceful attitude after lunch and got into some huge clumps of floating rosettes. I was able to bring in plenty in a short time.
Headed into the pond.
I drifted away from all the other workers and the retrieval boat never came over to remove my huge trash bag full. I kept pulling anyway and covered the floor of the 14 foot Old Town canoe. I pulled like a crazy man for awhile. I ended up with a slightly tippy canoe as I had about 20 gallons of swamp water in the bottom from the soggy water chestnuts. But I knew that our time to work was almost over. I didn’t want to quit as there was still so much water chestnut floating everywhere. If it goes to seed later this summer that’s not good. The nutlets will get sharp and hard too.
Green nutlet that won’t get to be a viable seed now.
Our time to quit did finally come and my heavy canoe was lightened of its cargo. I felt that we had done well. Many bags had been collected. Many water chestnuts would not be going to seed. This annual event is special to me and I hope to return again. To swap stories and meet new people. To take a stab at making a difference. Volunteering is truly rewarding I feel. Especially when it gets us out in nature! Once I never knew this beautiful place even existed. A place where a shallow marsh transitions into the lake. To be there is to checkout for a time. Lost to simple task. Wet,slightly muddy, and happy in the now. What more could anyone ask for? Consider volunteering in whatever capacity serves you! There are many different opportunities out there. And never stop learning! Nature has endless things to teach us. MOONTABS were made today!
Another cool June morning here at Camp Edith but comfortable with no need for the wood stove. I let it go out yesterday after needing it for several days recently. The weather has been strange! The prevailing wind has been out of the north almost every day. So it was back to burning some wood here which is never a problem as we always have so much of it.Wondering about my strange title today? Read on! It’s a current events kind of thing.
Dry conditions hinder the hay growth in the main meadow of the farm property.
The big news here this week that attracted international attention was the wildfires in Canada. Just across the border from here as it’s a mere 70 miles or so to Ottawa. Canada currently has hundreds of wildfires across the country. Many listed as out of control. What’s that got to do with life here in Macomb? Everything! Earlier last week a weather phenomenon pushed smoke from the wildfires in Quebec and Ontario down into the northeast of the United States. I stepped out of camp one morning and caught a whiff of smoke in the air. From someone’s camp wood stove I figured. I had been called into work at Fort Drum and on my early morning commute to work I noticed that the sun wasn’t visible. Strange as it wasn’t calling for rain. There was a heavy mist hanging over the ponds and wetlands that seemed out of place. The sky had an out of place look about it also. Shortly after arriving at work the sun appeared in a hazy sky. Bright red and beautiful actually. My coworkers then mentioned that it was due to the wildfires in Canada. All day the red sun crossed the sky hidden in the smoke that was blanketing the entire sky. I hadn’t watched the news or listened to the radio so I had totally been oblivious to all that was occurring!
At the job site.
After work I began to research the wildfires online. What I read was shocking and disturbing! Areas I knew from traveling the bush country were burning! One spot in particular caught my attention when I saw mention of the town of Clova, Quebec. I had history there having actually stayed overnight there. Clova was in danger of burning and no relief was possible according to what the news was saying. This tiny town is but a spot on a map. Only several dozen residents live there. But it’s a way station of sorts. A destination of hunters and fishermen headed further into the bush by floatplane in warmer months. A destination for snowmobilers in the winter. In 2013 my friend and I had spent the night in Clova so we could catch a floatplane out early the next morning to get to our fishing base camp on Lac Hebert. We had traveled over 100 miles on dusty,dirt logging roads to get there late in the afternoon. The bush country we traveled through was dotted with lakes from time to time but mostly just miles and miles of thick boreal forest. Meeting a vehicle was spooky as people drove way too fast. A flying rock chipped my windshield at one point as an impatient driver passed us on the narrow road. We learned to look off into the distance when we crested a hill to search for the dust clouds of approaching vehicles. Meeting a log truck was rather interesting! We stopped in the tiny crossroads of Parent for gas and bait before taking back off for Clova.In Clova we had booked a room in the old schoolhouse turned hotel so getting there was our main objective. Once we arrived in Clova we had to ask directions to the motel at the gas station. We were informed of its unmarked location nearby and that we could pay after we moved into our room right there. It seems it’s all part of the same enterprise. We were also informed there is only one restaurant in town.We were standing in it asking directions! It was a hub of activity also serving as a bar and small general store. The French people were mostly friendly and spoke English but communication lacked at times. The pace of life there was very laidback. Best not be in a hurry as seems to be our fashion down in the states. I envied their carefree, nonchalant mannerisms. So leg one of our journey was completed! After a few beers and dinner we retired to our room for the night. There was the constant rumble of the large town diesel generator that ran 24/7 to power the small community. I will leave this story here and return to it in the future as it’s a worthy MOONTABS tale of adventure. But now you know of my connection to Clova! And the reason for my concern. The fate of the town and our bush plane outfitter Air Tamarac remains unknown at the moment.
This area is/was in danger of burning from a nearby wildfire.
By Tuesday the smoke in our area was obviously noticeable and the air quality index reported unhealthy conditions. Everything had an eerie light about it with a thick haze of smoke very noticeable over the trees. The sunset was a brilliant red ball on the horizon. Wednesday returned with the same conditions as Tuesday. Everyone was talking about the smoke and the news here was dominated with reports. I continued to research the fires in Canada and studied the fire maps. A furtive plan began to percolate in my mind after reading about citizen volunteers being asked to assist with the wildfires that were plaguing Alberta. Could I become a volunteer? I began to search for an avenue to inquire. Thursday found our skies clearing although the cool weather remained similar to the preceding days. I made my first call that morning to an agency in Manitoba, Canada to offer my assistance. Things went as I expected. The gentleman I spoke with was polite in his response that volunteers were not a consideration due to liability. Ah the modern society of lawsuits and liabilities while thousands of Canadian hectares burned out of control. Surely a person could help in some safe capacity?
My first point of inquiry. Epic fail.
I had a busy day Thursday of annual blood tests,X-rays, and an ultrasound as has been the case since my cancer situation in 2009. Yet another story of my journey through life. A life changing event as I have posted about before.I didn’t get back to my quest for wildfire volunteering until Friday morning. I sent an email to Natural Resources Canada and got an auto generated response but hadn’t gotten any other information. Meanwhile the wildfire situation hasn’t improved to any degree. International firefighting professionals have been dispatched from several nations including the United States. That’s encouraging since Canada’s firefighter response teams are deployed at full capacity nationwide.With other countries experiencing wildfires it’s a taxing situation from what I’m reading. Isn’t there a less liability position that I assist with I keep asking myself? I wasn’t planning on jumping out of a helicopter like a Smokejumper professional. I have zero firefighting skills. But I can cook,drive,run a chainsaw,camp out in the forest,etc. Oh yeah! Running a chainsaw is a liability in the wrong hands when I think about it. I’ll sign a waiver then. A wildfire volunteer Hold Harmless Agreement. Do my part from a distance from the front lines (where I know I could endanger the professionals.) Please don’t take my frustration as negative or sarcastic! It’s painful watching all that forest burn! But there’s another consideration to be examined in that comment!
Research has taught me that wildfires have occurred for thousands of years across most of North America and much of the world. Often the result of lightning strikes coupled with super dry conditions they are a natural albeit destructive part of nature. But enter in the human factor which at the moment in Canada is responsible for about 50% of the current wildfire crisis ( fact check please!) a new twist enters the equation. Some scientists will quickly blame climate change for the hot,dry conditions in North America. No comment on that subject without further exhaustive research. I do know that a certain wood beetle that is killing boreal forest is contributing to the problem. I have seen it first hand in South Dakota as far back as 2012. The mountain pine beetle and related species have added fuel to the fires literally from their destructive life cycles. Perhaps wildfires might bring about the demise of their spread? The threads of research and opinions fan out in many different directions. Fire has been a constant in nature and as such must be a consideration in the natural cycles of the earth. It’s human habitation that often falls in the path of wildfires so the situation takes on something far more complicated then I can even fathom.Regardless of anything that’s a legitimate part of my concern. The places I know.The people we’ve met who live and make their living in the bush country. And the beautiful locations themselves. Birds and wildlife displaced. The clean waters that will be affected by post fire runoff. Nature is a mystery most certainly.
Smoky haze last Wednesday morning from Camp Edith. Black Lake,New York.
So that’s the latest on that situation. As for the rest of my current events? Busy at the farm with the old woodshed renovation. We have finished the demolition and cleanup after jacking it up onto 5 support piers. Zane and I got the new skid timbers into place yesterday. Things are moving along. We pulled some 2x material out of the haymow storage for the new floor that needs to go down. Three years since it was sawn and stickered up. There’s plenty of work remaining before the woodshed gets moved to its new location.
New skids in place.
So there’s lots going on at the farm property these days. I have been bush hogging select locations on the farm in our ongoing efforts to maintain and reclaim the upper land of the hill. It’s been productive and the trail system just beyond the gap is taking shape. The amount of post die off blowdown materials slow down the process however. But things are moving forward and the cooler weather has been good for working.
Opening up a small clearing on the hill. 3 years since that last occurred and it was very overdue.
I will follow up on the wildfire situation and my ongoing attempts to assist there. I did manage to get some volunteer time in Friday night at the TILT annual Zenda Farms Summer Picnic in Clayton,New York where I flipped hamburgers and hotdogs by the dozens alongside other volunteer grillers! If that didn’t earn me firefighter skills then it should have in my humble opinion! Lots of smoke and flame! Like I said I would gladly cook for all the hardworking firefighter professionals risking their lives in the wilds of Canada! I applaud their dedication! I wish them safety and success as this crisis continues on. The air is clear and fresh here today but I know it’s not the case above us! ✍️
It’s a chilly May morning here at Camp Edith and the first thing I did this morning was light the wood stove! I just moved in full time on Thursday but hadn’t needed any heat. But the wind shifted to the north yesterday and despite the sunny skies the temperature began to drop. I piled on extra blankets last night and it paid off as it was 57 degrees inside this morning.
Spring is moving right along and we’re as busy as ever post sugaring season. We still have some clean up to do and lots of sugar wood to cut for next season. I don’t always get as much done as I want sometimes when I get caught up in the myriad of life’s small details. Perhaps I dwell too much on forward progress. But the seasons pass quickly and a comfortable balance must be struck. We manage to spend plenty of time outdoors and that’s never considered anything but positive. Zane will soon graduate high school and his future plans suddenly enter the mix in a newer sense of reality. But that’s another story for another day. It’s a story tied to my future and my own plans ultimately connected to nature. Almost intimidating at times. A journey of unknowns and possibilities. Time will sort it out. One day at a time.
Grass Lake outing recently.
What’s all this got to do with morels? Plenty! The hunt for them began last Saturday in earnest.Too early people were saying but we had scored big time May 4th 2021 so I decided that May 6th was worth a try. So off we went after changing the oil in the Honda side by side. A post sugaring task that was overdue. We headed to our usual spots and the search was on! We brought a shovel and a bucket to dig leeks as well. Also a paper sack for chives. Time for some of Zane’s chive/leek dip again! Forager pizza also but we needed some mushrooms! The search was slow at first but I finally spotted 2 in an old favorite spot!
Well hidden!
We picked the two small morels for our pizza that we would make later regardless of our success. We checked out a new spot and were rewarded with 5 more small morels. Not a huge collection but enough for our pizza. We left several other small ones to grow and continued our search. Despite covering a large area we found no others. We collected a nice bunch of chives and leeks before heading to Camp Edith for the night. I got the water turned on there fairly quickly so it was easy to prep dinner. We had washed the leeks at the farm spring to get rid of most of the dirt so that proved helpful.
Quick wash at the old spring!
Dinner was a success! The dip was superb as was the forager pizza! So morel season had truly begun! If you want a better understanding of morels check out the blog post: Bugs,Brush,and Brown Gold that I wrote a couple years ago. It provides some insight into our foraging hobby.
I worked at Fort Drum Monday and Tuesday so it was Wednesday before I returned to search for more morels. Zane was in school and had piano lessons that evening so I headed out alone. I went to what I suspected might be this years hotspot and was rewarded with a nice collection of smaller morels. A few big ones but overall they were running a little small. A close examination of their bases revealed that they were fully rip and needed to be harvested.The morel’s stem will turn a dark brown when fully ripe. A sign that it’s about to tip over. Some morels are a darker species anyway and grow somewhat smaller. The tan ones can get rather large under the right conditions. I was on a roll and a second nearby new location yielded more! I left a number of small ones to pick the next time Zane would be with me.
Decent picking!
I spend the rest of the afternoon searching for more morels in a variety of places but only found 7 more total. But it’s still early in the season so I wasn’t disappointed at all. I had sprayed my clothes and boots with tick repellent prior to entering the woods. I flicked a few off my pants but managed to escape any attaching themselves to me. They are the scourge of foraging and cling to the low brush everywhere. Not using repellent is a bad idea! I like a brand called Ben’s and find it very effective!
Good repellent for ticks.
Wednesday evening found me cleaning the morels. It involves halfing them and soaking the pieces in cold water with salt. Halving and washing them will reveal any ants or other insects that might have burrowed inside the morel. It’s fairly common to find insects inside a morel. No big deal really. After cleaning my prizes I stored some of them in layers in a plastic container. Layered in moist paper towels they will last a few days in the refrigerator. The rest I pan fried with butter and a little olive oil. I add plenty of salt and pepper as well. I had a plan for them! Mushroom and Muenster cheese burgers! Yum! Of course I ate a few hot ones right out of the pan!Wow! What a treat!
This is the best!
So Friday came and Zane was eager to hunt mushrooms after school. We hit the new hotspot and the haul was significant! He’s great at spotting them. He uses the “drop down” technique we’ve learned works the best for finding them hidden under the ground cover of leaves and small trees. At risk for ticks but with treated pants and boots it’s fairly safe. We both had containers that filled quickly at the hotspot before we headed off to other locations. Our harvest was small at the other spots however. But we knew that the early season could change that so any location where a couple were found will be revisited again. The two spots that were last year’s hotspots have only yielded a few so far.It’s a fickle business of searching this hobby of ours! Always checking new locations and hoping for the mother lode! We cover a big expanse of ground to get a decent collection most days. The side by side speeds up the process of getting around though and helps with the tick avoidance situation.
Nice sized collection!
Back at Camp Edith it was cleaning time. Zane cut one open that was full of ants! I quickly took it outside to dispose of them. No harm done and the morel was added to the salt water bath. They were pretty much insect free after that. We stored some away and cooked up the rest. Zane was eager to try my mushroom and cheese burgers! A hit so sure!
Charcoal grilled to perfection!
So that’s the story here as morel season begins once again. We’ll continue our searching and dodging the nasty disease carrying ticks. Last season we had our first success around May 10th. Our final harvest was May 20th. But we didn’t spend the time hunting last year that we intend to do this year. I was living in the Adks in the camper for part of May and missed some of the short morel season. I think I will head out today and search some new places.Why not? It’s sunny and cool so maybe the black flies won’t bother so much.There’s a blissful contentment in the search for the brown gold. A sudden rush when you spot one hiding in the leaves. A wonderful smell when your container gets full. A sense of connection as you clean them and add them to your dinner menu. And of course the taste bud explosion when you eat them! As I like write here these simple words: to have never known certain things is to have missed something extraordinary. The morel mushroom provides a powerful connection to nature. One of season and one of purpose. A place where spirit energy surges with new growth and something much more profound. The hunter gatherer relationship with the forest and waterways. Never to destroy or deplete the source but to enjoy a little of it. It’s truly something amazing to me. A place where bonding and teaching others builds long lasting traditions and memories. We call those memories MOONTABS !!
It’s January 2023 and the weather remains unseasonably warm for this time of winter despite the major storm just before Xmas that hit upstate New York. It left us digging out for several days and reeked havoc out on the highways. The loss of life was surprisingly high despite the fact we live in a modern world of technology and comfort. People took unrealistic chances and were not prepared for nature’s fury. It’s a sad and deadly reminder that nature very much controls more then many care to acknowledge. We hunkered down with a generator on standby and well stocked cupboards. We were fortunate to never lose power here. The outcome could have been very different with an extended outage given the temperatures. It was a time to count small blessings and enjoy our good fortune.
Buried by the plows.
It wasn’t too many days after the storm that the weather turned warm with highs reaching 50 plus degrees. The snow disappeared quickly and the ridge tops began to bare up again. The warm spell has continued and heavy rains have reduced the snow pack even further. I took advantage of the situation and got back on the log landing working on a firewood order. We got out for a snowboarding day at Mt. Pisgah in Saranac Lake as well while Zane was on Xmas break. My performance was less then perfect on the rough and poorly groomed slope. We had a lot of fun regardless!We never sit idle for long and were happy to get outside as much as possible.
Zane shows off on the final run of the day.
Last Monday I had gotten some farm work caught up so I decided to take a long trek down the state land across Beaver Creek near the farm. I left my car in the farm property driveway and walked the road over to the spot where I would start my trek. I was shocked at the bags of garbage I found near the edge of the waterfall that empties into the gorge from the unnamed upper creek. Deer bones from several deer, cardboard, tires, and all types of other crap. I even found a discarded jet ski! It’s unreal the blatant disregard people have when they litter and toss stuff into this waterway! ( I contacted the DEC and they are going to make an attempt to stop the littering in this location.) What truly bothered me was the head,skin, and remains of a doe floating in the pool at the base of the waterfall. Flushed down the falls by unscrupulous individuals and left to tarnish a beautiful location with black plastic bags that will remain for years.
The flushing falls of the ignorant and uncaring.
I enjoyed the remainder of my trek and will mention it in a later post. It’s noteworthy to say that after I left the highway and ventured further into the forest I encountered no other garbage or human activity of any kind. Why do I mention the garbage and dump the story here on my page? There’s a connection here that will tie everything together shortly. It’s got to do with human activity and human impact on the lands that surround the farm property. A story within a story where questions were recently answered.
Looking across the gorge at our farm property.
If you read the story about the QR scan codes then you already know that all my research as to their origins was purely speculative. We believed that they had been placed by an orienteering group. Further research had brought me no closer to solving the “case” and things were seriously stalled out with few leads in sight. My DEC contact had put out a few inquiries but had also come up short in his investigation. The answer to the mystery remained unsolved and in hindsight it’s painfully obvious now that it’s been solved. But the location of so many of the QR scan code tags on state land property had thrown me off the scent so to speak. The clues came pouring in just two days ago and I solved the mystery quickly after that within a matter of hours. The big break came because of the discarded deer bones. Funny how the thread unraveled!
These started my investigation.
I was splitting wood at the warehouse landing when I noticed my dog Gracie had wandered off. Great! I thought. She’s gone down after that scummy garbage and deer carcasses. She had spotted them on Monday during our walk. A short time later I had a visitor at the landing. An acquaintance of mine who lives nearby stopped to tell me that Gracie was in fact across the swamp digging through the debris. We got to chatting about all the garbage along the road. I mentioned the QR code tags everywhere and he said he knew something about who had put them there. “There was a crew of 5 guys parked along the road and headed into the state land awhile back”. “They are working for the mining company”. I knew that the mining company had been doing test drilling all over Macomb in the past few months. It’s important to note that many people don’t own their mineral rights. As land owners we have “surface rights”. Many land owners in the past sold the mineral rights and conveyed them to new owners. I don’t know about ours but I would require proof of conveyance before allowing individuals to enter my property.It was common knowledge where they were drilling core samples in different locations around the small town of Macomb. Also in the area known as North Gouverneur. Gossip travels fast here. As do rumors. In fact the mining company had been drilling along side Lead Mine Road just up the road from our farm.But QR tags on the state land? Why would they be there? But this was the first solid clue since the investigation had started. I decided to contact my sister as I knew she had received a letter from the mining company in October but I hadn’t heard anything else about it since. She sent me a copy of her letter and another clue entered the equation. Surface sampling was the term used in the letter for mineral exploration that was being used on select properties. This was getting interesting!
Surface sampling is briefly described in the photo below.
There was a phone number on the copy of my sister’s letter with a contact name for any questions regarding the activities on the targeted properties. I called the number and spent close to an hour having a productive conversation with a company representative. He was very upfront and informative. He answered all my questions and we shared a lot of information in a short period of time. The mystery was solved when I asked about the QR code tags. It seems that they were placed by a consultant who was hired to take surface samples from various places in the area. The workers of the consulting firm were supposed to have removed the tags when the project was completed but hadn’t otherwise I would never have spotted them. I told the representative that I wasn’t too concerned about the tags as garbage in the forest. One drive down our road would produce more garbage then all the tags put together. Sad but true. I offered to remove them. The answers to different things that had been happening around the farm now made sense. Take for example the vehicle that someone had spotted in my farm property driveway that I knew nothing about as I was in the Adirondacks at the time. The tags on my sister’s property were there legitimately placed assuming the mining company owned her mineral rights. But the state land tags? Apparently the mining company may hold the lease to the mineral rights there. Strange as that may sound. There’s plenty of research left to complete on this investigation but we have answered the initial questions.
So where is all this headed? The mining company seeks to continue present and future operations here in the north country. Someday they will no doubt seek fresh reserves of minerals. Their current extraction of zinc is thousands of feet below the surface and may someday prove economically unviable. Will they seek to extract zinc or other minerals from leased property in Macomb? They are currently continuing an exploration project that was initiated by a former owner of the mines in 2005.The locals all remember the helicopters flying over with a gadget cabled underneath mapping potential mineral sources using a magnetic based technology. This data is still useful after over 17 years and is being utilized as part of the exploration process. My story is not to condone or condemn mining activities in our area. My story merely showcases a time in history where a unique moment in time intersects my personal journey. One that may impact my future and the future of my son here in the township of Macomb. Mining has a long and productive place in our local history. Our father actually worked in the mines for a time many years ago before decided he didn’t care for it. The past and the future may intersect once again in the rocky hills of Macomb if mining resumes here.It’s hard to say right now.
I believe this may have been part of the Brown Mines that occupied my uncles property.
I will close my post with the following statements to clarify my personal opinions. I have made every attempt to write honestly and factually. I chose not to name the mining corp. or target individuals. Mining has and continues to be private sector industry in this often economically depressed region. It brings jobs and tax revenue to our county coffers. I gathered a few zinc statistics to showcase after the post as screenshots from the internet. No clue as to their factual accuracy. My opinion is mostly neutral and non biased I feel. As a consumer of material goods in this modern society I acknowledge that the very goods I consume originated from some source somewhere on this earth. An earth with dwindling resources and ever growing population. I feel that we as consumers should not embrace a “not in my backyard mentality”. Do I want the lands of Macomb altered and changed forever? No. But as a consumer of things I that I will continue to buy they must come from somewhere. It’s a heavy place to dwell for long this study of our use of resources and our desire to protect our properties of rural heritage. The mining operations from 100 years ago here in Macomb have been healed by nature to a greater degree. Perhaps the mining operations of the future may leave an even lesser impact. I will continue to follow this story and hope to bring additional historical facts to this page.Do your homework on the importance of zinc in our daily lives. We can’t stop mining it unless we change our very existence.We walk a slippery slope upon the face of our fragile planet. It’s going to take wise choices to not repeat the mistakes of the past. We are all in this together. ✍️
December is moving right along and I was lucky enough to get out for my first ice walk last week down on Beaver Creek. It’s not fully frozen however and called for some finicky maneuvers. I picked my way close to shore for a time but eventually ventured out onto a section of the main channel for some photo opportunities. There was a little bit of snow on top of the thin ice in the shallower areas but the main channel had a thicker and slightly safer layer of “snow ice”. Not the nice clear ice of hard freezing nights before a snowfall but the aftermath of snow that froze as it covered the water’s surface. Always tricky! But the savvy Icewalker knows the benefits of speedy traveling on bare ice rather then struggling through the rugged woods on shore. Dry feet aren’t the constant companion of an Icewalker. Neither is a dry body for that matter. The trick is staying on top! As always the Icewalker’s motto must be remembered: “The distance in must be traveled out.” Its much more pleasant to travel out dry!
The snow ice of the main channel.
I assessed the wetland system via my sister’s property just down over the hill from our main farm buildings. The ridges along both sides of the wetland are rather steep and difficult hiking. Rocks and fallen trees make for slow going. Thus the allure of the ice. I hadn’t quite reached the ice when I spotted a pink ribbon tied to a tree. Strange given this is private property. A closer look revealed that there was a tag attached to the small tree. It had a scan code and seven numbers on it. I used my IPhone to attempt to “ open” the code but nothing worked. I considered taking the tag with me but decided I shouldn’t without consulting with my sister first. I continued to hike on.
Tag one.
There’s always something to see when hiking the Beaver Creek gorge I’ve learned over the years. The beaver continually alter the wetlands by building dams along its course. Given the width of the wetland it’s a major engineering endeavor for the beaver to accomplish. But they’ve been at it for years and grassy foundations of former dam activity have made an almost solid foundation in one spot. There’s a choke point where the channel narrows through a shallow section of the swamp. A small dam here floods a large area and doesn’t challenge the beaver all that much. There’s usually beaver activity here but this year they had raised the dam some and subsequently there was a lot more wetland covered with deeper water.The muskrats had build numerous houses in this larger section. The most I had seen in years. Once I reached the dam I was in a bit of a situation! The ice below it was brittle and caving in. “Shell ice” we call it. The result of water depth dropping with no time for adequate freezing. It’s the Icewalker’s nemesis!
Beaver business at the “Deep Hole”.
I bog hopped my way towards the distant shore from my location in the center of the swamp. It was a challenging series of carefully executed moves. Perhaps like a soldier picking his way through a minefield in a movie. I was losing my nerve by the minute and regretted my decision of early ice walking.It was beautiful in the soft maple forest that survives there though. In the midst of trees and small clumps of tag alders I was saved from the wind. The sun was shining down on me as I slowly crept closer to the solid land that was tantalizingly close. It was a cold afternoon and I really wanted to stay dry! I reached the narrow channel and edged out onto the thin ice. Gracie the dog was close behind and seemed a little nervous herself! Suddenly a series of cracks appeared under my feet. I froze and several more shot out in different directions. It once again reminded me of a movie scene! But in the movies the hero never falls through! There was no time to waste so I ambled forward in a sliding shuffle that covered the distance quickly. I reached the shore soon after and celebrated my good fortune! I was off the ice and had no interest in going back out after that. I decided to head for the high ground.
The sketchy section below the dam.
I began to ascend the steep ridge that reaches all the way down to the shoreline. I got on a deer trail that crosses the slope of the ridge in the easiest path. Trust the animals to find the best way upward. I hadn’t gone far when I spotted another one of the pink ribbon/scan code tag combinations. It was identical to the first one and covered with muddy fingerprints despite being exposed to the elements. Had someone dug in the dirt before handling it? I once again trying scanning the card to no avail. I pressed on towards the high ground.
I was headed to a large rock bluff that we named the “Mid Point” when we were teenagers. It sits between two other rocky bluffs called the “Low Point” and the “ High Point”. I suppose we could have been more imaginative but it’s a rather accurate description overall. The LP and the MP are somewhat close together while the HP stands higher about one half mile away to the East. The views are spectacular in a 360 degree panoramic fashion. They are some of the highest places around in the area. A favorite boyhood haunt of mine. We camped years ago on all of them at one point or another. There’s a reason why the rock is bare upon them and the evidence still remains many years later. A forest fire destroyed the white pine groves that once occupied them during a dry spell. Deliberately set I was told although I have no factual proof to confirm this. The fire was so hot it literally burned the topsoil right down to the bare rock in the higher sections. Even to this day you can find the charred pitchy root balls and stumps that are super rot resistant in their rocky perches. We discovered as teenagers they made excellent firewood and burned with a brightly lit fragrance.No need for artificial light when one was used and the wood burned for a long time. Just when the fire occurred is an unknown to me.Over a hundred years I suspect given my age. I hope to research that sometime if archives exist.
Charred stump remains.
I found a place to sit on the Mid Point and snapped a few photos. It was a bit chilly with a North born breeze hitting me but I was warmly dressed for a December day. I kindled a small fire to keep the chill at bay and sat for a long time. It was a place very familiar to me and one that I try to reach every December before Xmas. It is my place for silent reflection and I always have it to myself. Gracie plopped down next to my legs and she made an excellent windbreak! Off in the distance my silence was interrupted at times by three pairs of jets doing some type of military exercises. Most of the time they were silent leaving streaming contrails like writing in the sky. They left eventually and the sky was silent until a flock of snow geese passed overhead.
Snow geese
I added wood to the fire several times. I burned a small piece of pine stump and was rewarded with the familiar scent of pine resin. ( pitch trapped in the roots). I noticed another pink ribbon down in the woods below but didn’t bother to check it out. I assumed it was the same as the others. It was getting late so I finished off the fire and began the trek back towards the farm.
Looking towards the Adirondacks.
Since then I have attempted to figure out the mystery of the ribbons and scan code tags. The tags are actually called QR codes. (Quick Response).
Familiar with them on merchandise.
I have put requests up on social media pages asking for help. People had lots of comments and have been super curious as to the origins of the tags. I finally got a break through yesterday when a friend of mine who works at a local land trust suggested that the tags may belong to an orienteering group. Not a subject that I knew much about although I had heard of it. I began to research online and was soon rewarded with some promising information. I now believe that the mystery tags are from an orienteering group but remain baffled by the lack of information printed on them. I probably should explain orienteering first. I think the photo below pretty much sums it up however.
Definition
I also contacted the New York State DEC in regards to the ribbons and tags. They had no knowledge of orienteering groups that had been holding events in the state land near the farm. Apparently the group pulls a permit in advance. The DEC quickly became interested in what I had discovered and will be actively looking for answers. I thank everyone at the DEC for getting me connected with the proper individuals! I pledged my assistance in helping them locate the ribbon locations. One officer walked me through placing “drop pins” using Goggle Maps. I chose the satellite map option and easily dropped the pins close enough to the the locations they should find them given the absence of leaves. I was familiar with geocaching so was used to working from satellite maps. Once Zane and I discovered a huge wetland area on a satellite map that we didn’t know existed. We have yet to launch a probing expedition into the area given its gnarly rugged location. Yes I said expedition! It will be a winter snowshoe into unknown territory and must be treated as such with proper preparation. But that’s a different story for a different day.
This was on the internet. No connection to this group is implied or intended.
When I head out for a trek I just never know what I will find! It seems technology is never too far away at anytime. I have no wish to bring anyone under scrutiny for their hobby but orienteering ribbons and tags should be removed after events close out according to the DEC. Also by the basic rules of leave no trace ethnics. But having a campfire in a former campsite location puts me in a similar predicament to be totally honest. Not illegal but certainly leaves a trace. I suppose it’s a fine line to walk and I could easily not even mention the fire. But I felt it pertinent to be honest and forthcoming as I have always promised.
For the moment the mystery has not been solved despite the research. The tags could be totally belong to some other group. Perhaps military or some environmental study group as some suggested. In fact there may be a conspiracy involved. Facts are facts despite what people choose to believe. Remember our furry rodent friend from Quebec Mr. Jangles? He’s been strangely silent for some time now. He still holds a grudge I suspect. I sent him a Xmas card and a block of cheddar cheese but haven’t heard back from him. Tracking indicates that the package was delivered by float plane ahead of the ice up. I believe he has begun a retaliatory mission despite my best efforts to strike up a truce. As of late we have been under attack by rodents at the farm in an unprecedented manner. The bucket traps have been busy and the tractors have been spared damage for the moment. There have been 15 necessary rodent causalities recently unfortunately. They brought the fight to us and we fought back. We granted them sanctuary elsewhere on the farm property but apparently they have refused the offer. Perhaps this sounds as crazy as ever but the facts remain. There is a lake in Western Quebec named Dumoine. There is a cabin 5. There is a mouse named Mr. Jangles with whom we fought an epic series of battles in August this year. There have been 15 rodents eliminated recently at the farm in record time. As for the rest? Form your own opinions. People were asking about Mr. Jangles so I needed to mention him. We are unsure of his present state and we wish him Happy Holidays! I expect we will hear from him again. Until then Happy Holidays to everyone! ✍️
Our first snow yesterday. It didn’t amount to much though. The day started cool and dark as daylight grows less while autumn advances. It’s that wake-up time when you assess your preparedness for winter if you are a veteran of seasons here in the St. Lawrence valley.It’s coming and small wisps of arctic air sometimes arrive from the north.They herald a time to come but autumn prevails for the moment.
November is a time when beauty in nature can be a little harder to see sometimes. It exists though. It’s a good idea to identify better with our senses then. Five obvious and one not. I feel sound can become more important to recognize as part of the overall outdoor experience once the colorful foliage drops. In the open forest devoid of leaves sound travels far but muffled underfoot when the ground is thick with wet leaves. A brown blanket with life protected underneath that we don’t often notice.Only the oaks have retained their leaves at this point. Brown and lifeless they persist in clinging to the branches. A day of work at the farm property provided special observations yesterday that embody rural heritage and connection.
Mid November finds me playing catch up with a firewood order. It’s been a warm fall and I haven’t felt the drive to work on it. But the cooler days recently have awakened the harvest mentality. Hunter and gatherer? Perhaps.I have been stocking up the warehouse log landing adjacent to the main farm meadow where we put up most of our firewood orders due to its convenience in getting it trucked off the farm. I have focusing on an area I call the upper landing. Once a portion of our sugarbush it’s in tough condition after the 2017 die off. I stockpiled a decent amount of logs there a couple years ago intending to get them cut up last fall. But we had too many other logs down on the warehouse landing ( from other die off) to block up so with the exception of a few I had skidded down fall there was quite a bit of still needing to be salvaged. Maple rots quickly and can’t be left on the ground for too long. Good and bad at the same time. Good for getting the forest rejuvenated but bad for salvaging firewood.The logs of the upper landing are getting questionable in their quality so I decided it was now or never to block them up. I had expended a lot of energy getting them stocked in the first place. They are turning out to be a mixed bag. Some good enough for the firewood order and the rest to be used at Camp Edith or turned into sugar wood. I also turned my attention onto a dead standing maple and a recent blowdown. It’s a never ending challenge to keep up with the aftermath of the die off and wind damage. We do the best we can.
So that’s the background on recent farm property activity. The annual firewood harvest. Known to me as “The Grand Harvest”. I stole the name from a brand of hay baler twine that we used to purchase years ago. I have spent decades of my life and countless hours putting up firewood each autumn. I write of my years of woods craft in my blog series titled “The Run Of The Mill”. Check them out. I try to avoid redundancy here but life follows seasons and I write in the context of present season much of the time. It’s where I live in the now. Powerful and romantic to me in its passage. So the stories follow the seasons. There is a peaceful grounding in following nature through the seasons. I write of it often.
As November advances brown seems to become the predominant color of the forest. The greens of the ground soon to be turned white with snow. It’s time for the other senses to step forward and revel in the moment. Sound especially! Decked out in my hearing protectors I don’t hear much while running the chainsaw on the landing. But when taking a break to refuel the chainsaw I heard a lot of things yesterday. Off in the distance an approaching flock of snow geese. Their southbound flight cries very different then their relatives the Canadian geese.Off in the distance I heard someone else running a chainsaw cutting wood most likely. As the day wound down I heard gunshots from time to time as hunters fired on unknown targets.High powered deer rifles not shotguns I knew from experience. The annual deer rut brings more deer activity to our region and the hunters use it to their advantage. Once an avid hunter I now simply take my gun out for a walk a few times each season. I do target shoot to keep my accuracy honed in just in case that special opportunity presents itself. But that’s a whole different story.
Birds provided much of the sound yesterday. While I was on break a croaking raven announced its presence as it headed to feed on a deer carcass someone had dumped on our property. Ethics run low sometimes in our neck of the woods. On a positive note the dumped deer carcass had drawn in a scavenging bald eagle that was now hanging around the farm. High in the sky above the meadow it glided on large wings and added to an already special day. The many dead maples of the farm have become a woodpecker sanctuary.Their drilling and tapping sounds come from all directions. Down from the ridges the raucous cries of the huge pileated woodpeckers hard at work mix with the tiny downy and hairy ones that hang around the landing. The pileated woodpeckers leave huge piles of chips below their targeted trees. It’s pretty obvious that many of these monster maples must soon topple over given their riddled trunks.On the landing cutting and splitting wood knocks many grubs and insects free from their inside hiding places. Nuthatches and tiny chickadees stay close too. Opportunity is not lost on them and I enjoy their company.
Scents abound on the log landing as well. Chainsaw gas fumes and hot chainsaw bar oil. The sweet odor of maple sap trapped in the salvaged logs of the former sugarbush. Not destined for the sugar house evaporator and sadly lost forever. There’s the scent of muddy tractor tires and diesel fuel. Rotting leaves and dead vegetation. The smell of ripped earth from the skidding of logs. The scent of my worn leather gloves and logger wedge bag strapped to my waist. And then my own scent. Sweat,soap, and challenged deodorant. Let’s not forget the scent of the dumped deer carcass where I found my strayed dog Gracie hard at work gnawing on some rather fragrant morsels.Gag reflex and I don’t have a weak stomach! Passed on lunch at that point! Nature doesn’t leave things around for long. Dead trees, dead flesh, and dead vegetation on its return trip back to the earth. Humbling and comfortable at the same time. Luckily the coyotes had found the deer carcass and eaten most of it in one night after it had sat for a few days. Nothing gets wasted in nature. Something to learn there.
November is always a time of discovery. Personal observation and reflection. My slightly older body these protests the heavy chainsaw by day’s end but obeys my mind’s commands and pushes through. The physical and mental states don’t always want to sync but luckily the mind wins for a time. There’s an energetic drive in the accomplishment of a huge pile of firewood blocks awaiting the wood splitter. The forest a little cleaner and the dead trees serving a purpose. Rural heritage runs strong on such occasions. Decades old and grounded in tradition and a sense of something much more. There is a safe sanctuary in the physical activities of the log landing. True grounding. It’s best not to let the mind wander when the hands are holding a throttled up chainsaw. I think that’s where peace exists sometimes. In simple task and toil. Answering that one would prove difficult to a bystander I suppose. In the use of the hands there is an extension of inner spirit and the feelings of connection to the land itself. Pretty heavy for just doing some firewood.
My body finally called the end of the landing. A look at the fading light over the top of ridge across the meadow spoke of the approaching darkness. I stashed the tractor and the gear in the warehouse then locked the doors on a productive day. I leaned on the car and realized it was silent. Nothing. Just the solid ground under my feet and drifting clouds above. A moment of silent solitude where I was totally alone and enjoying the silent solitude. Tomorrow would come and bring a fresh round of details. But this moment was mine with no distractions. And then it happened. The ringtone came. Not from my phone but high above. Geese in the distance and out of sight. The nighttime chill came on a small north born breeze and what I had predicted in the post called The Special Day washed over me. The rocky soil of the farm property heals and repairs. It always had even when I hadn’t learned to recognize it yet as a younger version of myself. Focus and purpose are reborn and come with silent energy. It’s all connected somehow. The words, the feelings, and the driving pulse of the season. The simplest days of November can be priceless when a brown and seemingly barren landscape is transformed into beauty that can’t be described. It must be lived in the now.✍️
We are approaching the middle of October and the transition continues with an increasing pace. I continue to camp here at Fish Creek and will most likely return to the valley a day early. This is it for my ADK camping season in the Airstream for 2022. Zane and I will no doubt be returning to the Adirondacks at some point but it’s unclear just when. So many wonderful experiences are filling my days and nights these days. Somehow the energy tells me where to place myself and nature does the rest. How best to explain these occurrences may challenge me to a degree. But I enjoy challenge and searching for answers. I have studied nature my entire life but can’t begin to answer the question so many ask. What is the meaning of life? To me it is a cycle. The meaning belongs for each individual to decide and is uniquely theirs. As for me, I need but follow the seasons to find what defines life. I have arrived to a new and exciting season of my life. Autumn. A time I hope to be my most colorful. A time to show colors that were always just below the surface. It would take the approach of autumn before they would begin to show. Autumn is a time of great expression in nature. A time of new life being created in some species. A time when things prepare to slow down for a slumber of sorts. I feel these things and gracefully accept the truths as nature offers them.But such thoughts take us far from the stories and to the edge of the forest lands of Tazmania.
Last week I spent a wonderful afternoon paddling up Fish Creek beyond my campsite. It’s a favorite destination of mine and I also used the opportunity to collect some old beaver sticks for firewood. The shorelines are well stocked in certain spots with the remnants of beaver feed piles. Once they have dried out they are excellent firewood! It’s important to note that tampering with a beaver house or dam is illegal. Be careful where you gather your sticks! The loose piles along the ponds and streams are legal pickings for savvy collectors! Just how the sticks are produced is interesting. The beaver cut small trees and saplings then drag them into shallow flat spots onto the banks. There they can gnaw the bark from them in relative safety. They leave the peeled portions behind as a type of garbage I guess you could say. Sometimes they have feed piles out on the spongy bogs where they enjoy their meals in complete safety. The peeled sticks often end up being used to build dams and lodges so they do serve an alternative purpose.The beaver have few predators here in the Adirondacks but a hungry coyote or larger bobcat could possibly kill one. I have seen pictures of some that were crushed by trees they were cutting! That’s rare though. People are their main predator when fur prices make their plush pelts in demand. Luckily for the beaver, pelt prices are very low these days. I used to trap them a lot years ago in Macomb. Other animals as well. I longer trap but remain true to my rural heritage and mention it here. It was something I was taught and a skill passed down between generations. I was a proud and successful trapper for some 30 plus years. I feel to never write about it is a falsehood as trapping taught me many things about nature. It kept me outside and always wandering. It is as much a part of me as anything else connected to nature. I must write of being a fur trapper, hunter, and fisherman on these pages or forever be false in my life journey story. That I can not do my friends. The truth is the truth and I will not abandon it here at any cost.
I hadn’t traveled too far upstream and had already procured a nice collection of beaver stick firewood. It serves a second purpose as well. One I call beaver stick ballast. The front of my canoe is very light if I don’t have weight,a person, or dog there. When alone adding firewood weight to the front aids in controlling the bow especially if it’s windy. It’s a time tested approach to paddling that I often employ while camping. Otherwise I use smooth rocks and small cobblestones. I traveled leisurely up the creek and soon entered one of the narrower sections. I call them the connectors. There were numerous photo opportunities and I got some great shots there. I ducked into Copperas Pond for a moment searching for the loon family I had written about last July. The pond was deserted and eerily quiet. Few birds although I had encountered several ducks that were totally fearless. They must have been campsite ducks to be that tame. Fun to watch as they stood on a log in the sun preening their shiny feathers. I missed the calls of my forest friends the white throated sparrows. They always remind me of the bush country in Eastern Quebec. They are very plentiful there and you hear their signature calls from daylight to dark.The forest had become absent of summer birdsongs. The transition was truly ramping up!
I entered the mouth of a small lake that’s called Little Square Pond. I typically pass by most of it unless we decide to swim off some rocks near the entrance. It’s a fairly big pond and susceptible to waves if the wind is blowing. It was totally calm that day though and I decided to explore it further. I was looking for fresh beaver sticks that would make good trekking poles but hadn’t found any yet. The beaver sign was strangely absent. Most of what I was seeing was old and beginning to weather severely as it began to rot. I kept wondering what had happened to the beaver population here? Trappers? Disease? Or just a move to better food sources? The beaver do exhaust their forest habitats near their chosen waterways. It was going to be slim pickings for beaver sticks! I began to paddle the Western side of the pond’s shoreline exploring. I saw plenty of old beaver sign but nothing fresh and no active lodges. The shoreline was steep in places and heavily forested. I found a primitive campsite that I hadn’t known existed and made a mental note of it. I continued paddling around the pond enjoying the colorful leaves and loving the warm sunshine! As I began paddling down the Eastern side of the pond I heard a strange sound. I couldn’t identify it and at first thought it was a woman’s scream. I heard it occasionally after that and realized it was not a person. I spotted a couple of loons and decided to check them out for a minute.
As I approached the loons I realized the source of the strange sound! There were two juvenile loon chicks swimming around their mother making weird screeching noises! The three of them would take turns diving under then resurfacing further up the pond. I tried to guess where they would pop up to get myself closer to them. Eventually I was successful in my attempts and the mother came up very close to me! The chicks surfaced shortly after and I got some great photos plus a couple videos. The chicks were lighter colored then their mother and their heads were gray. Hers was the dark black that all adult loons have in common. They were obviously very attached to their mother and stayed very close to her. One of the juveniles ended up some distance away after one of its dives and began its screeching in earnest. It finally managed to produce a signature loon call although it wasn’t perfect! The chicks were learning to speak and I was fortunate to be witnessing something very special! They stayed close to me for some time and I was enjoying the moment to the fullest! The warm sun, calm pond, and my loon friends in front of me with the beautifully colored ridges in the distance. I paddled away and began to speculate about certain possibilities. Could this be the loon family I had seen early in July at a nearby pond? The father was gone it appeared. The pond was some distance away but it was all one connected waterway. The family could have swam from one pond to the other. Maybe the chicks could even fly by now. They would need to fly shortly I surmised with winter getting closer all the time. The chicks certainly had grown since July! My imagination began to run wild. Maybe the mother had discovered the huge northern pike in their pond and recognized the potential threat. I had lost it overboard after an epic battle and could attest to its size. It would have had no issue swallowing one of the tiny chicks back in July. I decided that these were the same family of loons at that point. Regardless of my theory I was happy that two loon chicks had survived the hazards of water.
The magic of nature is there to discover but it’s all about timing so much of the time. I have witnessed many wonderful things as I wandered afield through forest,swamp, and stream. To witness the baby chicks in July and then to see them again in October was truly something amazing! Today I paddled up to Floodwood Pond for a little catch and release fishing despite the windy conditions. As I approached the entrance of Copperas Pond this afternoon I spotted three loons up the waterway and recognized them as the loon family. I figured that I would encounter them later when I paddled in their direction so I left them to their fishing. The fishing was horrible on the windy pond but I did manage to land one small bass before I left. As I paddled up towards Little Square Pond I spotted one lone loon. It was one of the juveniles and I got very close to it. It was busy fishing and I wondered where the other two had gone. I found them way up in the mouth of Little Square Pond fishing together. I got a nice photo and a short video of the two of them together. Nature was taking its course it seemed. The lone juvenile was becoming comfortable being on its own although I suspect that they joined up later. I had hoped to see one of the juveniles trying to fly but that’s asking for a lot!
My day would soon get more interesting as I paddled the winding stream up towards Floodwood Pond. I finally found a slender peeled beaver stick! It wasn’t a perfect specimen but given the selection it was still a worthy collectible.There was no active beaver lodge nearby so I assumed that the feeding beaver was just passing through. It’s hard to say really. Sometimes hermit beaver survive with little evidence of their existence. I continue to be baffled by the lack of beaver sign here. It’s something that will bring me back sometime to further investigate the surrounding areas.
What happened next was a rare and special treat! As I rounded a corner of the creek I spotted something on top of a sunken log deadfall on the bank. It was a mink. It dropped out of sight and I figured that I would never see it again but got my phone camera ready. I nosed my canoe up to the end of the log and spotted the mink! It was peeking over the top of another log at me! I got a quick photo and sat perfectly still with the canoe wedged against the log. The mink became curious and jumped up onto the top of the log before diving off into the shallow water. I put my phone camera onto video and waited for a few seconds. The mink appeared and put on quite the show! I filmed it for 51 seconds before it fled downstream. It was so amazingly agile and flexible! Fast as lightning! What an incredible video I shot! Timing is everything! I felt very fortunate to capture the moment!
In conclusion I would have to say that I have been very fortunate over the years to be able to enjoy nature in its finest moments. Living in the country and being able to easily visit the Adirondacks. You just never know what you will encounter or when you will encounter it! That’s the draw. Such moments pull me deeper into the circle and I cherish them! It’s MOONTABS and more!
Choosing titles for my blog posts is a fun and entertaining part of the process for me! I feel my rambling muses deserve witty titles of descriptive creativity that truly represent the subject matter I toss at my readers with a careless disregard for preordained writing techniques. My titles are as raw and honest as the emotions that fuel my simple words each time I grab my tablet to begin tapping out a post. Ask any of my work friends about a day on the job site around me years ago! It was often filled with movie lines and quotes that I found inspirational. Music lyrics and rhyming poem lines. A full on misfiring of synapses and the constant changing of topics. Physicians have a term for my affliction these days but I prefer to call it Taz energy. It never bothered me all too much as a student as I recall. I was quite a loner and somewhat shy. I was rather quiet actually although most people wouldn’t believe that now. A lover of books and reading. My daylight hours spent running through the woods like some semi-feral animal. On horseback I was equal parts reckless and skilled at the same time.School often felt like a cage to me. Outdoors I felt free and unencumbered by responsibility. Years later certain work projects would invoke a similar feeling but I had trained myself to accept the harness and pull the load that I had chosen. What’s this got to do with an invasion? Very little up to now. Consider this portion a continuing introduction of my background and history. I grew from simple roots and my stories reflect upon them.Let’s begin with the second portion of my title. In 1971 the band Led Zeppelin recorded the song The Battle of Evermore. It appeared on the untitled album most people refer to as Led Zeppelin IV. It’s haunting melody was sung as a duet and featured a mandolin. It’s an interesting song and I’ve always admired the lyrics. I suppose I interpreted it as an illustration of something eternal. Enter the invader to this story. Not human or animal but a simple bush. It’s called wild bush honeysuckle.An invader from Asia brought here as an ornamental bush to decorate gardens. I will leave all further research as to it’s origins and path of invasion to you. I will tell you that it’s a master of spreading by growing its leaves early and shedding them late resulting in fast growth. It’s numerous berries aid its progress across a landscape. I can’t say with any certainty when we first discovered it on the farm or even noticed it anywhere else for that matter. My father mentioned it once after it had begun to choke our fence rows. We had battled wandering juniper over the years but we had easily kept it under control. Not so with this invader. We didn’t get too concerned at first honestly. It blended in with the other bushes of summer and was quickly forgotten most of the time. So for years it continued to spread without us ever really getting concerned. Sometime after my father’s death someone explained to me that this strange new bush on our farm was an invasive species and that it needed to be controlled.I began to look closer when I walked the farm. Once I trained my eyes to recognize it I became increasingly alarmed! It was growing unchecked everywhere I looked on the farm and all around the north country! People seemed oblivious and unconcerned to its presence just as I had been before becoming informed. It’s worthless for firewood or anything for that matter so it goes unnoticed. Enter the warrior of sorts. Me.Armed with a tractor and loader. Chainsaws and logging chains. I began to target them anytime I was out working in the forest gathering firewood. They rip up easy so the tractor loader was the perfect weapon. Despite my best efforts though I knew we were losing the war against our new adversary. I began to target the larger ones as they produce more seeds each season. The piles of destroyed wild honeysuckles grew larger but still they continued to spread. Two years ago I found a location near our line fence that I began to call Ground Zero. The size of the bushes could only be described as old growth. It appeared that our invader had entered our property from our neighbors pasture lands years ago. No longer grazed they were the perfect staging ground for the invader. I attacked ground zero with the tractor and loader spending hours ripping up huge bushes. Last year I continued ripping them up all over the farm in a desperate fight to hold them back. The 2016/2017 die off of our sugarbush hasn’t helped. The plentiful sunlight in the formerly shaded locations aids our invader’s growing season. Zane has joined me in the battle now. Jennifer has suggested a quadrant by quadrant approach that we may implement eventually. But right now its sporadic ground skirmishes on all fronts. I destroyed about 20 bushes yesterday but it’s a small win. Call me the romantic fool comparing our battle for supremacy of the farm fields and forests to a war. But that’s how I perceive it now. We won’t ever stop ! Zane tells me that with youthful enthusiasm and hope. We are winning he believes. Who am I to question his resolve or dream of saving the farm from being overrun? We are planning to bring in the heavy artillery at some point and wage a month long battle against them. Together with two machines. Hydraulics and human technology. Fire and huge flaming brush piles. Yes it all sounds a little crazy perhaps. But get informed and help rid our beautiful wild spaces of this unwanted invader. This is the Battle of Evermore I fear. One we must fight or walk away with shame at doing nothing to save our farm.
Time sure has a way of speeding past during the holidays!Today finds us one week into the official winter season already!We were unable to view the the planetary alignment last Monday on winter solstice due to cloudy skies. In fact it’s been very cloudy much of the time lately.Darkness seems pervasive and almost overwhelming at times in the days leading up to winter solstice.Also in the days that follow.I find it best to plan activities accordingly. If I fail to get moving in the morning I find myself cutting my outdoor activities short most days.Far different than the days of summer where my energy will be depleted well before the sun sets! The recent weather has cycled in a pattern that never truly enters winter. Very little snow and lots of rain. The absence of snow postpones our winter plans somewhat.There’s no doubt winter will arrive in earnest at some future date. We desired some post Xmas hiking since there was almost no snow.We made our plans. Got in touch with our friends who would join us. It was all set!Nature decided a few changes were in order!A surprise snow storm would dump several inches of powder in just a few hours.Not enough for snowshoes or skis but more than we would typically hike through. We decided to hike regardless. We chose a trail system near home as travel time in December eats daylight. This trail system is called the Grand Reserve. It’s part of a local conservancy known as Indian River Lakes Conservancy.IRLC for short. It was created just over 20 years ago by a small group of dedicated individuals who desired to build a legacy of preservation. Through acquisitions and donated parcels they’ve grown to over 2200 acres of protected lands and watersheds. They have a small full time staff and groups of volunteers who assist with trail stewardship, summer children’s programs, and educational seminars. I will showcase them further in a future post. Our family has been affiliated with them since 2018 so we have some interesting stories to share!Our friends weren’t familiar with the trail system so we wanted to introduce them to the location. A party of six people and two dogs would constitute our group.As we entered the trail after parking our vehicles we realized someone else had been there ahead of us. A person most certainly from the tracks in the fairly recent snow but others as well! Enter my special winter hobby of years! The study of tracks in snow!It’s a fascinating outdoor activity for me! It’s a bonus of winter treks especially on fresh snow. I become the detective and look for clues .Who is living in these woods?What are their activities? How many different species can I identify? Will I guess correctly and piece together the stories of the animals who inhabit this winter habitat? The birds as well. Their story much more difficult to unravel.The tracks will confuse at times but never lie. Those who leave them have no need to cover them up. Their’s is the business of survival.Winter brings challenge and struggle. Danger for some and advantage for others. Studying tracks brings me into a state of “ mental painting”. Picturing the event that has been left for me to decipher. It draws me deep into a place of quiet reflection at times. Beneficial and relaxing in its simplicity.Tracks are a gift of winter snow. Each thaw or storm to reset the canvas.A fresh set of stories to be gathered and recorded. I knew beforehand what tracks we might expect to find. I would not be wrong with my predictions. We spotted the tracks of numerous gray squirrels.Groups of cloven footed deer on the move.Porcupines whose distinctive waddle makes them easy to identify. Their tracks originating in the the fallen rocks of cliffs where they den up and then forking off to their feeding trees. The bare bark of girdled trees as obvious as their tracks. There was one set of tracks I had to guess at however. They belonged to either a large weasel or small mink. They entered the base of a hollow log and exited further towards the top. A well known habit of theirs. As is their hopping nature which gives their tracks a certain signature. This was the extent of the tracks we would find in the forest. It wasn’t until we reached the shore of Grass Lake that things would change. I had mentioned my desire of getting close to the thin ice of the lake to my son Zane. I hoped we’d be rewarded with the tracks of a water dwelling mammal.We’d spot nothing at first as we stood on the shore of the lake. But I suddenly spotted an abnormal spot in the ice. Falling snow collects in the water and freezes into a gray layer I call “snow ice”. There was a section of snow ice that had obviously been broken by something. It had refrozen into clear black ice. I carefully studied the evidence before me. “A beaver did this” I said to Zane. It had poked its head through the thin snow ice but had not come ashore. I turned to the right to study the swamp beyond us and there sat the beaver! On top and feeding some distance away! I felt a sense of accomplishment in that moment!I had guessed correctly! The presence of the beaver confirmed my observation. Darkness was approaching and we’d need to cut our hike short. But our first outing on winter snow studying tracks was successful!It gets me fired up and ready to return after the next snowfall. I’ve spent many happy hours studying winter tracks.There are many tales to tell! The tracks didn’t lie. I don’t either.
