Category Archives: Conservation

Volunteering & Land Trusts

Why Wait?

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Yesterday was Winter Solstice! Now the daylight will begin its slow return to later sunsets! Earlier sunrises too for that matter. Regardless, it’s a slow process at first but it will become more noticeable in time. For me the best days of winter often come later in the season.

I have gotten ready for Xmas and didn’t wait till the last minute to do my shopping like I did years ago. Ordering online sure has helped with that! We cut a Xmas tree just over one week ago and it was a fun outing despite the deep snow near St. Regis Falls. We were unable to get a balsam so we settled for a white spruce that was around 7’ tall. It’s a nice tree and it provides a truly traditional look to the house.

As the year draws to a close, I find myself reflecting on the months now past much like I do most years. I decided to do a writing and photo series on Facebook that I titled “The Year In The Rear”. It doesn’t really interest people to be honest. But neither did a similar project I did last year. That’s ok, as I find taking the time to reflect on the months now past a good writing exercise overall. It’s beneficial to observe my activities month by month to gauge where I invest my time. True to form, my activities are quite predictable actually, following the seasons that include my favorite hobbies and annual adventures. I suppose at some point you could stop reading the blog and pretty much guess what I am up to at certain times of the year. But don’t get too comfortable doing that as I may surprise you from time to time. And while many of my activities are typical for me, the individual stories and memories that are made are quite different indeed. And this past summer was far from ordinary!

Lots of snow in the Adirondacks!

As my posts would indicate, I spent much of my summer chasing adventures in Canada, living in the Airstream out of a base camp setting in Quebec. What a great experience! And all these months later I still haven’t shared all my stories about my experiences! As winter settles in and I spend less time outdoors, I find myself wanting to write more about those experiences. And one thing you will notice is me jumping around on the timelines. Think of it as time travel of sorts. A jump from the now to the past and back again in a grand spin of time. Time travel isn’t possible in real life (although some scientists will disagree) but in writing it poses no problem. With some words,I could accurately describe a future location where I will be going this winter and hopefully make you feel like you are there. It’s easy to visualize the now. And with photos from my gallery, it’s easy to portray a journey back in time. No big revelations there I guess. Writing in chronological order doesn’t necessarily suit me it would seem. It’s time to share an adventure from last July. It’s a place quite familiar if you’ve followed my blog any length of time. But the circumstances were slightly different. I made a sudden decision one day while in Quebec shortly after returning from the states with my small boat and followed through with it. I was tired of waiting for good fishing success to find me! Why wait I thought?

It didn’t take me long out on the big lake at the outpost ( Kipawa Lake) to realize that fishing was going to be challenging for me. Some early success was followed by some struggles to catch walleye. The lake trout fishing was equally challenging for me as well. I tried new locations and explored around the lake but I just wasn’t having any degree of success. Other fishermen at the outpost were doing better but they were traveling some distance to make decent catches. And the sheer size of the lake was often a little daunting in my 14’ boat. Wind and big waves were a detriment and a deterrent on several occasions, keeping me from going out fishing in the first place. I was beginning to get a little disappointed with my decision to place myself on such a large lake. Something needed to change! I decided that I wanted to go to a place I knew well and try for walleye!

Tree across the road back in the bush!

I made contact with the outfitter where we were going to be spending a week in late August ,on our annual trip fishing trip ,and asked if I could rent a boat and camp on an island there. It was too rough a journey in to beat my boat and trailer getting it there so renting a boat was necessary.They said no problem but there was a cost to camp and to fish in the lake. When I factored in the costs and the fact that the bugs were still so bad,I began to reconsider camping. I asked if any cabins were available and they said they had one that I could rent near my preferred location on the lake. I had seen the cabin from a distance before but had never been inside it. They said that the water and fridge would be turned on for me if I wanted to come for a few days. It was a no brainer really for the added cost to the trip. I said yes and booked a three night stay. I would have more than enough room and all the amenities! Why bother camping? I began to prepare for my departure on July 2nd.

Getting to the landing of the lake where I would pick up my boat for the trip to my cabin would be an arduous 4 hour drive total. The logging roads get worse the further you travel in on them. I was very familiar with the main dirt road towards the outfitter for the first 38 kilometers. It’s was the “819” that I had been traveling since arriving in Quebec and I knew those first kilometers would be the fastest and easiest. After that things would slow down considerably. I made sure that I had my bow saw and brush nippers loaded into the truck. Sometimes on previous trips we have needed to use them. All part of the adventure. I was wondering what the conditions of the roads would be as there had been a couple windy thunderstorms in the last few days. And there’s usually beaver dams flooding sections of the road. It’s always a gamble!

I left late in the morning ,right on schedule, on July 2nd as planned. I had my bait, food, and everything else I knew I needed from previous trips. There’s no getting anything once you’ve there! The road was good until about half way in and then I had to start getting out of the truck to cut back brush that was hanging into the road. No doubt from the recent storms and apparently no one else had been through yet. At one point there was a big black spruce most of the way across the road that took some time to clear away. I had to continue to stop more frequently as the journey continued and I was getting overheated, not to mention the attacking mosquitoes that would find me. I did eventually reach the outfitter after a 5 hour trip to reach the landing. Step one was complete!

Cabin 3.

The outfitter and his daughter were at the landing fortunately. They helped me get loaded up while we talked and caught up with life. We know each other fairly well now. I was happy to hear that they had gotten brand new Yamaha 15 hp outboard motors. These modern 4 stroke engines sip gas! Gracie took her spot in the bow of the boat which is typical for her.The boat was roomy but loaded. I had a lot of gear for one person it seemed! The lake was quite calm for the time of day so I expected that it would be a smoother boat ride to the cabin. It takes about 20 minutes to get there. At least I know where most of the rocks are located. That’s handy as the outfitter doesn’t always mark them well.I would be at my cabin in time to settle in and still make it out for the evening walleye fishing. Perfect! The outfitter had said that the fish were biting good in fairly shallow water. I knew exactly where I would be going as I know the lake rather well and we have several favorite spots. That’s a comfortable place to find yourself I feel.

I found my cabin ready for me with a cold fridge and the water working. All was well! I didn’t care for the sliding entrance door though as it looked like mosquitoes might find a way inside. We will find out ,I thought.After a quick snack, Gracie and I headed out towards our fishing spot that would take about 10 minutes to reach. The lake was still fairly calm which is always a plus although we never mind the small waves we call “ walleye chop”. Minus our gear we zipped right a long at full throttle. We reached our destination and set up the fish finder to hit the depth I wanted, then dropped the anchor. It was nice to be back at the lake, anchored off an island at a place we call Raspberry Point. My timing was perfect for the evening fish!

Fishing companion.

I quickly got my pole baited up with a leech on a bait float in about 15’ of water and settled in to wait for a bite. The fish finder showed some activity near the bottom of the lake. Usually a sure sign of walleye as they feed just above the bottom most of the time. The bite started slow but picked up soon. It was exciting when my pole nodded gently as a walleye toyed with the bait. I soon had one hooked after that! A nice 19” one that I had to net by myself. That can be challenging at times! I was really enjoying myself as the fish that were biting were decent sized. Well before dark I had 4 walleye in the boat. More than I could eat in one meal as they were all in the 16-19” range. I didn’t catch throwbacks at all. We call them Beckies. They’re the ones under 15”. Some days we catch lots of them. Due to my good fortune, I decided to head back early to clean fish before it got dark. I still had plenty of time to catch my take home limit of 6 keepers in the next couple days. After all the tough fishing on Kipawa Lake it was nice to get some quality walleye fishing in with little effort. I knew that I had made a good decision to come! I felt totally in touch with nature. A true hunter gatherer moment.

In the cabin away from the mosquitos.

When Gracie and I arrived back at camp it was still light. Darkness wouldn’t hit until almost 10pm. The forest behind the cabin was alive with a buzzing hum. Could it possibly be all mosquitoes? I soon realized that yes that’s what I was hearing! And they began to swarm around me and Gracie. We retreated to the cabin and I decided to clean the fish inside. I made a dinner of fried walleye and potatoes as darkness finally settled over the lake as the last of the sunset disappeared from view. We were hundreds of miles from home and way back in the bush on a remote lake with almost no one around. There were some other fisherman in a cabin about a half a mile away and the outfitter was at the caretaker cabin past that. The night was incredibly dark and quiet except for the buzzing of mosquitoes. It was strange being there alone but I was ok with that. Later on, I turned out all the gas lights, then Gracie and I crashed out in one of the bedrooms and discovered that some mosquitoes had managed to get into the cabin. I killed a few and eventually passed out from exhaustion. It had been a long day!

The next morning Gracie and I woke up to windy conditions. After coffee we went out to fish but were driven in by the waves with no luck. Gracie doesn’t mind the waves usually but these ones were bad. We couldn’t set our anchor and get it to hold in our fishing spots so we went back to camp for brunch. I had frozen 2 of the biggest walleye the night before just to guarantee some take home fish. I wasn’t planning on eating walleye everyday but I was hoping to be able to catch fish that evening. We sat out the day doing camp chores and taking a nap at one point after getting a nice hot shower. This sure beat camping out! Time was already speeding by as it always does at bush camp.

As evening came on the wind subsided some and we headed out to fish. It turned out to be a beautiful evening and the bite was turned on! It was none stop action! I caught some nice walleye and threw most of them back. The size was mixed but there plenty of fish biting and I went through a bunch of bait. I had worms and leeches but the walleye preferred the leeches. Luckily I had brought plenty! We headed back early again before dark and the sunset was wonderful! That’s always been a plus of this lake, beautiful sunsets! My walleye count was adding up and the less than perfect fishing on the other lake no longer bothered me. This was living! It was a little strange being there by myself but I had Gracie for company so I didn’t mind. I was able to call home on my satellite phone and check in so everyone knew that I was doing fine.

Out on the “Markers”.

It was another typical night at the cabin. I had closed up windows to try and keep the mosquitoes out but they still managed to get it. I had some fogger and put it to use around the screens and window frames. Fighting back against the mosquitos felt good actually. I realized how bad it would have been for me had I been camping out of a tent! I made walleye,beans, and potatoes for dinner. I put them on a plate together to create a dish that I call “The Hot Mess”. It’s awesome! And just like that it was bedtime again. I had a good screen on my bedroom window and had my window open. I could hear the buzzing of the bugs in the forest but it didn’t bother me. I drifted off to sleep as a bit of moon glow lit the clearing by the cabin.

I don’t know what time it happened but I awoke to hear a blood curdling sound of some sort. I believe it happened twice but I only really heard it good one time. I still don’t know what made the sound but it was big! I jumped out of bed really alarmed and grabbed for my fillet knife. I went to the window but saw or heard nothing. I had trouble sleeping after that and put my two knives within reach. Gracie seemed indifferent and not disturbed at all. What could have made that sound? A moose? A bear? A lynx? Or sometime that I decided not to think about! An alien! Or a Sasquatch! Needless to say I didn’t fall asleep right away. But the rest of the night passed without incident.

Night in the cabin.

The morning dawned calm and cool. After coffee I got out for some fishing and added to my total count. I now had my limit of take home fish in the freezer. 6 nice ones! My numbers were adding up and if things continued to go well I would leave the lake with some respectable fish catch numbers. Later in the day as I was relaxing in the cabin I saw something swimming across a narrower section of the lake near the cabin. It was a moose I soon learned! I chose not to take the boat over for a closer inspection and watched it until it disappeared onto the shoreline. After that the outfitter’s daughters came by looking for a section of missing dock. I helped them load it onto their boat and haul into place. It was pretty beat up but was still usable. I headed out for my final evening fish and it was another productive catch night! Everything had to be released though as I had all that I could legally keep. It was plenty and I had eaten some also.

The Hot Mess! Yum!

Gracie and I headed back early from fishing and I decided to have a fire despite the mosquitoes. The sunset was fabulous and next to the fire the bugs were tolerable. I didn’t have much firewood so I had to call it an early night once the bugs got worse. My final night in the cabin was uneventful and quiet. But I hadn’t forgotten about the unidentified sounds from the night before and my knives were close by!

And just like that my mini trip was over! It was time for the drive back out. At least the road was in better condition! I had caught an impressive 64 walleye in just three days! My techniques for fast catch, net, and release provide for the best possible conservation practices. Severely wounded fish make it to the fish fry or take home count. Protecting a lake like this one is important as they are not easy to find these days. I was feeling great about finally catching some walleye! I had truly enjoyed the solitude and quiet time away from everything. My accommodations had been simple and adequate.The fishing had been a total rush for me! There’s nothing quite like watching a walleye thump cautiously on your bait! And the fight that follows if you set the hook! And of course who can’t be mesmerized up by the remoteness of the lake and the miles of undeveloped shorelines? The big skies and the always fabulous sunsets! I find the experience a total battery charging moment in time. There’s really nothing quite like it really! And when Zane and my friends are there too? Over the top fun! I hope to continue to do this for as long as I live! I truly love the bush country lakes of Quebec! ✍️

Beaver dams and bush country roads.

Hunting Away The Gathering Days: Autumn 2025

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Winter solstice is but a few days away but we’ve been having winter weather for some time now. Our first snow in Macomb was around November 16th. There’s been lots of snow up in Santa Clara and the Adirondacks in general this autumn. Now that it’s mid December, the snow doesn’t seem like anything but fairly normal. A cold snap brought some recent single digit weather and even some negative temperatures. -8 degrees in Santa Clara one night! Brrr!

Hunting season went by quicker than expected and we never saw any bucks during rifle season. I sat in the different tree stands we had built but not even any does ever came close. The deer seemed to move about a lot. Some nights there would be a couple in the meadow by the barn after dark. Zane hunted some during rifle season but didn’t see anything either. I still hunted some as well. Wandering around helped me try to figure out where the deer were staying.

From the “Metal Chair” tree stand.

We got a pop up hunting blind to use in areas where we had no tree stands. We used it some but I think it’s a little better suited to early season hunting. We never saw any deer while sitting in it. I sat in it one evening as we got hit by some heavy freezing rain. It was nice to be out of that! I later moved it to a new spot right before the season ended but never saw anything there either. We will experiment with it more next year. It’s got potential.

As we got closer to the end of rifle season, Zane and I did some deer drives. We pushed out a few deer but neither of us got a shot. Some fresh snow the final weekend of rifle made for some decent tracking conditions. That was fun! It was easy to identify where the deer were moving.

Deer activity in one of the meadows.

The weather turned pretty crappy the final weekend of rifle season and the snow was starting to add up. I wandered around some in the wind and snow hoping to get lucky. It was not to be. But we still had late muzzleloader season for one week to try and fill unused tags. It had turned rather cold and there were many flocks of geese suddenly moving south. You could easily spot several flocks at any given time for a couple days. It was obvious that things were moving closer to winter.

During all this time I was busy getting some wood cut and cleaning up some fallen die off maples that kept dropping limbs into the meadow below the Gap Ridge. They were a bit of an eyesore from the cabin windows and I was tired of looking at them. Not to mention that there was some nice dead red elm to cut in the same area. I decided to make a small landing on the edge of the meadow after cutting down the brush that had overtaken the old fence row. I built a large brush pile and added sections of rotten maple logs to it using the tractor. I had a great fire one night and kept it going for a couple days. Fire is the best way to ditch old logs and brush.

Operation Burn Clear returns!

I had done something similar once near that location and had called my work “Operation Burn Clear”. It’s a good title for some goals Zane and I have for reclaiming the meadow edges. It’s going to take some time that’s for sure.

Gathering firewood is never a wasted effort and we always end up needing it. I have gone through quite a bit of firewood in the cabin this fall actually. I have brought a few loads of wood to Amy’s this fall. There’s a wood stove and a wood boiler in the basement so it has been a nice complement to the 25 cord that came with the house back in September. I usually top off my supply in the cabin when I’m getting a truck load of wood cut up. I like the smaller pieces of super dry red elm for the small wood stove that heats it.

There’s no shortage of dead trees on the farm to attempt to get cleaned up. I don’t think we could get caught up unless we started using much more. So it’s pick and choose for the best ascetics. After the burn bans of the spring,summer, and early fall, it was nice to be able to burn.

Touched off!

I was lucky to get a load of wood cut and hauled before last week’s big snow storm that started Tuesday and went into Wednesday. By Thursday I needed to plow the driveway out at the farm for the first time this fall. There was so much snow that the Honda utv could barely plow through. Luckily I had some previous trails to follow in the prior snow that I managed to reopen. Good thing it has four wheel drive! I tooled around looking for deer sign but it was absent near the barn and up beyond the Gap Ridge. NP. I’d go try somewhere else.

I got my muzzleloader out and fired a couple primers to temper the barrel before loading it. I didn’t fire it as I didn’t want to dirty the barrel. Something I would live to regret! I sat last that night up in the hunting blind after spinning the way up into the woods with the Honda to reach a place to park nearby. It was bitter cold and there were no fresh deer tracks anywhere near. It was time for a new strategy I decided. On Friday I would press hard for “The Mountain”. It would be difficult with almost knee deep snow but the deer had been hanging around in the meadows near the base of it. The plan was simple: wade the deep snow slowly and hit the high ledges for the view if nothing else. It’s something I like to do usually,minus the deep snow. It was the best idea that I could come up and what I had been trying hadn’t worked to date.Time was running out! Deer season closed at sunset on Sunday night!

Shadow Man sporting a chainsaw.

Friday dawned cold and clear with mostly clear, cerulean skies. As the sun climbed higher so did the temperature. It was a fine day for hunting! Much better than other recent ones of falling rain,snow, and blowing winds. The plan was simple. Carry a survival pack with food,water, fire starting kit, knife, etc. plus extra speed loaders for the gun. They are super handy as they contain everything you need to unload for one shot. I also would wear micro spikes for better traction after a test proved that they were fairly silent in the deep snow. I chose a mid morning start to give myself plenty of time before dark to complete my trek.

I walked the road until I reached the state land that would lead me to the Mountain. If you follow my writing then you know about the high rocky ridge that sits above Beaver Creek is what the Washburn family calls “The Mountain”. It is the highest place around and a great place to catch a view of the surrounding countryside. And sometimes there are deer to be found! Although I have never bagged one while hunting there.

It was difficult walking in the deep snow but I took my time. Falling with the gun would be bad anytime but worse in the snow. Luckily my muzzleloader has a nice sling so I put it over my neck so my hands were free. This helped me wade up to the first rocky outcropping that I had named “ The Low Point” many years ago. There’s a great view of the farm meadows there and even our big red barn is visible. I hung out for a bit to catch my breath and enjoyed the somewhat panoramic vista. Well worth the effort to get there!

View from the Low Point.

I left the Low Point and made my way towards my next destination the “Mid Point”. It’s another great viewing area also with mostly panoramic sights in all directions. It was the destination Zane and I chose last Xmas Eve for our celebration fire. We hope to return this Xmas Eve to continue our newest adventure tradition for year three. The first year we had our fire at the Low Point. These experiences may be in an old blog post. If not then I had better write one!

While walking towards the Mid Point I came across a single set of partially snowed in deer tracks. Not terribly exciting really. But encouraging to a degree. Up on the Mid Point I once again caught my breath and enjoyed the views. Off to the east of where I stood, I saw what looked like deer tracks so I went to investigate slowly and quietly in the deep powder snow. I moved almost ghostlike I felt. I held my muzzleloader in my hands when I reached the tracks and realized that they were very fresh! But where were the deer?

I moved towards the edge of a ledge to get a better look. I could see deer tracks below me. A flash of movement caught my eye and a deer came into sight from the left of me. Unbelievably close! A mere 30’ away! And I suddenly realized it was a buck! It stopped and turned towards me but it was like I was invisible. Time seemed to stand still as I stood unmoving from my high tactical advantage point.The buck turned and continued walked parallel a long a flat section of another ledge below me. I popped my scope lenses cover and pulled back my hammer just in time as the buck stopped for a second. He was in my crosshairs just 40’ from me when I pulled the trigger. What happened next played out in slow motion but not for long!

When I pulled the trigger my muzzleloader made a fizzling sound like a dud Roman candle instead of the loud bang I expected. There was a tiny puff of smoke and no recoil. The sound alerted the buck and he ran down the face of the ledge with mighty leaps and gave a couple warning snorts to his companions. Doe’s from his harem I believe but I never saw them.

I stood in shock and total disbelief! Disappointment washed over me like a wave. A misfire had happened apparently. But was my weapon clear? I quickly pulled my breach plug to find that my projectile had left the barrel. But with what velocity was the question. Had I wounded the buck after all? I made my way down to where I had last seen him but there was no blood anywhere. Not a drop. Now I was super disappointed. I had waited for this moment the entire season. Now it was gone because of equipment failure. Damp powder pellets were my best guess. Perhaps the result of condensation. I regretted not firing my gun that morning for a test shot. It would have dried the barrel and had it not fired properly I would have known. Damn the bad luck I thought as I trudged back to the cabin feeling rather defeated.

On the Mid Point.

Back at the cabin I played the events over and over again in my mind. I discharged my muzzleloader and it worked perfectly. I decided to take the Honda up to retrieve the hunting blind while I decided my next strategy. I would take my gun of course. Just in case.

I got the hunting blind folded up and loaded into the Honda and started back down the trail. I had noticed some deer tracks on the way in so I slowed down to study them. There is a long valley that I could see down at one point on my way out. And suddenly I spotted a deer! It was lying down actually. Totally brown and visible on the bright,white snow. I didn’t stop the Honda but kept going down the trail to where a ridge hid the valley from view. I left the wheeler running, grabbed my gun, and creep up over the ridge. I spotted a second deer lying down but my angle was wrong. I stalked my way up the ridge a second time further down and suddenly spotted a third deer. I inched a little closer and decided that I could make the shot at the newest deer that I had spotted. A big doe but my tag was good for that. I might never get a better chance than this. I fired.

My gun performed flawlessly. The deer didn’t run and I knew right off that I had made a kill shot. For that I was grateful. And just like that my luck had changed. I still felt bad about missing the buck. ( did I really miss him in a sense?) I walked up on my fallen prey and thanked her for her sacrifice. I felt blessed for good eyesight and steady hands. And there was that moment of sadness that comes when killing a deer. But there was work to do and it was turning colder even though it was only 3 pm!

Thankful for a kill shot.

I had trouble loading the big doe even after field dressing her. With the help of a rope I got her into the back of the Honda finally. Back at the farm I hoisted her up in the warehouse and made ready to cut her up. It was getting late so I needed to set up the generator for lights. Zane came over to help and eventually the deer was skinned,trimmed, and quartered into our large cooler. The end to a day of ups and downs. But my deer hunting season was over just like that. And I took catch my breath again. My deer wouldn’t get the chance to freeze solid during the super cold night. I had made that mistake years ago once. Never again if I can help it!

So this week I have been cutting up the deer and packaging it. I made over 30 lbs of venison burger from my big doe. We are in good shape for the winter months to come. Venison, walleye, and some morel mushrooms in the freezer. Hunting deer was something that I had given up for quite a few years actually. But I am glad that Zane got me interested in taking it back up again. It’s been quite the fall! Lots of great memories and lessons to be learned. And we sure are enjoying all the wonderful lean meat that’s super healthy!

Hunting and gathering are a big part of my rural heritage lifestyle. I’m excited to be sharing this with Zane. We have big plans for next season already! Until then we wait for what comes next. Winter will bring new adventures and new opportunities. Challenges and fun times. And maple syrup season is never too far from my thoughts. I will sit by the wood stove and enjoy maple syrup infused coffee while pondering it all. I will listen and see where my spirit energy leads me. And we’ll enjoy meals from our successful harvests from the bounties of nature. We truly are connected. And for that we are forever grateful with most humble thanks! MOONTABS! ✍️

What’s Been Learned?

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July 17th and lots has been happening here since my last post. I returned to Quebec with the boat on June 20th after a week back home. Zane and I had tried out the new 15hp Honda motor and it’s quite the powerhouse! It trailered up well and there were no incidents fortunately. I launched it that night and went out for walleye but only caught a couple little smallmouth bass that I threw back. But it was a beautiful evening with a spectacular sunset! Catching fish isn’t everything after all.

Wow!

The next day would become very memorable! Gracie and I set out on rather calm water to try for lake trout in a couple locations. After quite a bit of trolling I finally caught a small throwback 17” long. They must be 26” long to keep here now and your limit is one. 25 years ago you could keep two if they were 20” if I remember correctly. We had good luck catching them back then.

I was pretty happy to have caught a lake trout despite the fact that I wasn’t sure which lure to use. It’s no longer legal in Quebec to use the frozen real minnows we used for bait years ago. That gave us an edge I guess. They worked well! I heard a William’s W60 blue and silver spoon was a good choice for lakers here so I planned to buy one or two locally if possible.

Gracie and I headed in for lunch and a break before considering our move for the evening walleye fishing. It was looking like rain and a possible storm. I got to talking to some fellows in a rented cabin down by the outpost docks. They had two big boats for four guys. They were planning on trailing their boats to a section of the lake where they had fished in the past the next day. So they were sitting around having beers and talking. Nice people!

It started sprinkling but I decided to put my rain suit on and head out anyway. The lake was rolling pretty good and there were some big waves to travel as we headed to the “Beauvin Narrows”. I had a spot in mind there to try. A point that jutted out into the narrows. I had seen a boat there on Friday night.

There were no other boats around as I attempted to anchor the boat in 20’ of water on the point. I couldn’t get my anchors to grab. I was forced to hunker down behind an island nearby where I could hide from the waves. I had one bite but that was it. The wind and waves subsided some so I made a second attempt at anchoring on the point. I was successful that time! The rain had stopped at this point and I was happy about that!

Almost immediately after dropping my bait float and leech combo, I had a bite that I missed. But soon after I caught a beautiful 17” walleye! A fighter but I managed to net it. Shortly after that while tossing a jig with a worm I caught a second 17” walleye! This was great and I felt pretty fortunate! The bite suddenly stopped though as the wind picked up again.

A gust suddenly lifted my new hat off my head and I tried to hook it with a jig. No luck! I was forced to lift anchor and give chase after my fast moving hat! I retrieved my hat and suddenly noticed the black sky and fast moving clouds. Soon after I felt stinging rain drops and decided that I needed to get back to the dock! But I was suddenly hit with wind and a heavy downpour. I could barely see to steer the boat and the wind whipped up huge waves. Thunder and lightning added to the moment although it was off in the distance.

And so began a wild ride back from the narrows! I was soon soaked despite my quality Frog Toggs rain suit. But this was no ordinary rain storm! This was much more! I eventually reached the dock and one of the cabin renters came down to help me carry my gear to my campsite. Very nice of the fellow named Todd to do that! I was happy though as I had two nice walleye to show for my effort! I cleaned them in the rain and froze one.The other I kept out for a Sunday fish fry.

Sunday’s fishing was uneventful and I had no luck. But I enjoyed a wonderful fish fry! Yum! My neighbor Rick invited me to go in his boat up to a place in the lake called Lindros. Retired hockey player Eric Lindros has a fishing camp there. We would also fish a location called Sunnyside. It once was farmland they tell me. Flooded when the dam was built and the water rose to bury the buildings. Pretty wild stuff to consider!

Monday’s trip to Sunnyside was rather uneventful. We couldn’t find the fish on Rick’s high profile fish finders. He has all his favorite locations marked and numbered. It’s rather impressive! Rick managed to catch two small throwback walleye while I caught nothing. Any walleye under 14.5” and over 20.75” must be thrown back . It’s known as the “slot” size. Important to obey as the fines are steep for violating the rules. Anyway we tried and I now was familiar with Sunnyside and Lindros. I decided not to fish Monday night and take a break.

The next day I headed out early and tried out a new spot for walleye. I only got one that was right at 14.5” and I threw it back hoping for a larger one. A move that I would later regret but I was overconfident at that moment. I did not catch anymore after that. That afternoon I trolled for lake trout on an upper section of the lake. I was totally unsuccessful but enjoyed the nice sunny weather! Fishing was proving difficult on the big lake I was learning. Other people were struggling as well to catch walleye and a fellow named Randy said they had lockjaw! He’s a veteran fisherman here and when he’s not catching most likely others aren’t either. It was time for a new strategy!

A sunken snowmobile at an abandoned Squabe camp. ( local name for squatter)

I pulled the boat from the lake Tuesday night and removed the motor and trolling gear. My new friend Bob, his BIL Rick, and I were going to use my boat at a nearby remote lake to try for speckled trout. It was once a hotspot for them. We would use Rick’s electric trolling motor to move around the lake. The day was sunny and calm fortunately. The setup worked well but the trout were sparse. Bob and I both got 13” speckled trout. Bob gave me his. It was a fun outing listening to Rick and Bob share stories about the old days fishing there making large catches. The Canadian government no longer stocks speckled trout in the lake unfortunately. But I learned a new place and a new fishing technique. And the trout was yummy! I ate the smaller of the two.

Headed out for trout.

The next day Bob, BIL Rick, neighbor Rick, and I took two boats to fish nearby Temiscaming Lake. We were headed to a spot called the “volcano”. The tree pollen was everywhere on the surface just like in Lac Kipawa. Some said it was affecting the fishing. Rick and I were in his big boat while Bob and the other Rick were in his. I catch nothing yet again and Rick managed to bag two throwback walleye in our boat. Bob got a feeder and Rick got a really nice 23.5” walleye. Another tough day of fishing for me. But another lake learned.

Pollen in the water of Temiscaming Lake.

Later that evening I drove back to the ZEC Restigo to scout out a new lake for possible fishing. The mosquitoes were horrible! But I reached the lake only to find a camp there. And a questionable bridge to cross as well. I decided to pass on the lake. I saw a cow moose on the way out though! Very cool!

Saturday morning I pulled my ZEC Restigo permit to paddle and fish down the De Jardins River. There was an interesting lake on the map that it flowed through. I packed a lunch and headed out despite the cloudy conditions. The river was running rather strongly and I was going with the current. The bush came right down and actually hung into the water. Tag alders mostly being a water tolerant species. I soon reached a wide swampy area where the Bleu River dumped in. I explored a little of it before moving downstream. There were moose stands on the edges of the bush, a salt lick, and even a camp up on an esker. Signs of people who hunted in the fall here. The river wound through an even larger wetland that became huge. There was no place to get out for a break unless a person wanted to stand on old rotten beaver huts. This was a wild place! Almost spooky in some strange way. I reached the lake I sought but it was nothing but a shallow, weedy place so I turned back. The wind and current made paddling difficult for me. I was disappointed and almost angry with myself for choosing this location. But after a moment I pulled myself together to be grateful for a location for what is actually contains. A thriving wetland that moose must love. Thickly forested bush on the distant ridges. No other people in sight. Just me and Gracie far from camp in a most remote setting. There were ducks and distant singing birds when the wind died down at times. By the time I had reached the point where the Bleu River merged with the De Jardins, I was ready to continue my adventure. I tackled the current up the Bleu, past the camp, and headed towards the sound of a distant set of rapids or waterfall. The river narrowed and the beaver were trying to dam it up. Unsuccessfully at the moment though.

The marshy lake.

Eventually I reached the rapids and could paddle no further. There was no way to portage around either as the bush was super thick. I wedged the canoe into the brush and started fishing. Maybe trout lived here! I soon had a strike but it was a small slinky pike. I kept tossing my lure and managed to catch more small pike. There was a calm eddy right on the edge of the rapids and it looked fishy. I managed to get my lure into it and was rewarded with a strike immediately! The fish turned out to be a 15” walleye! A keeper!

I stayed in the rapids for two hours or so. I caught 6 small pike and the walleye. I was eaten alive by biting black flies and a few deer flies. Mosquitoes also. But I was totally content. I had been in the canoe for hour as there was no good place to land. It was that thick there! I was a little wet from rain as well but didn’t care to put all the rain suit on. I leave the rapids and paddled back to the landing where the truck was parked. I was very tired and super sore. In the rapids by the launch I caught one more tiny pike that I mortally hooked in the gills. I quit fishing then. It was a memorable day and I sadly acknowledged that I probably would never paddle there again.It was just too rugged and there were many new places left to explore.

I ate my 15” walleye that night. I had worked hard to get it! I made a plan for the following day. A new lake and a new adventure. My sprit energy was refreshed and my spirit batteries were recharged. What had I learned? Many things actually. I had learned that this rugged area challenges a person. It is beautiful but harsh at times. Fish just don’t jump into the boat. You must work for them. And I ask myself if I am still tough enough for this sort of thing? I enter the bush full of energy and leave exhausted. Sometimes feeling down by my poor success at catching fish. But perhaps I put too much emphasis on my success in fishing. Am I missing something by doing that? What I am learning is to take the time to be grateful for this experience. This grand experiment that I have undertaken. The people and the places that make it grand. I have learned to catch my breath and smell the scent of sun soaked forest and tan colored water rushing over the rocks. Fish has never tasted so good either. I am strong and capable of making this happen. Someday I may not be so fortunate. Wanting more is not always the best approach. Just being here should be enough. But I do love the thrill of a striking fish tightening my line as it rushes away and the battle begins. That is addictive and thrilling. It is a complex spin I suppose. I have learned to enjoy the complexities of this spins and to let them give me cause to reflect.

So what have I learned? All this and more. I can handle solitude and being far back in the bush where I must depend on myself to get out. I have learned that Gracie the dog is a first rate companion to me and someone to talk to and listen to my profane outbursts at times. She doesn’t even pay much attention really. Selective hearing dog style. I can snap like a brittle twig sometimes. The bugs,the wind, a tangled fishing line, or snagged lure can push me to the limit. But in the end the scenery will quiet me and remind me of why I am here. Perhaps I am learning to slow down a little? Doubting that as I plan my next adventure chugging maple syrup infused coffee each morning. Time will slow my body down.Of this I am most certain but I will resist giving into it. Here I am free to run wild in wild country. It is enough!

Speckled trout.

Milling Around

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This post was started awhile back and there were a few technical glitches that have since been resolved fortunately! It doesn’t take long for the central theme of a post to suddenly change direction some! I originally was staying in Saranac Lake when I began writing it but am currently here at Camp Edith getting it finished. I just got fully moved in this afternoon. Amy and I have been working at getting it cleaned and ready the past couple weeks.Thursday night was our first night here and we stayed here all weekend. It’s really shaped up with some TLC! Amy has done a wonderful job transforming the functionality of the space. It’s very cozy now! I had a lot of decluttering to do!Things have wrapped up mostly on the project in Saranac Lake and I will be spending more time back here now. It’s been a rewarding experience living and working in the village. There’s plenty of work to do at the farm and some catching up to do with miscellaneous things. I recently got a gel shot in my left knee to try to relieve some of my pain and discomfort. My meniscus injury may very well require surgery but I am postponing that for as long as possible. At this point it’s still unclear how the injury even happened but it may go all the way back to last November when Zane and I tipped over the side by side one night by accident while burning off the meadows across the road at the farm. It’s the only thing that I can think of really. That was a rather wild evening of burning! But we had everything under control! Mostly… but that’s another story all together. The focus now will be shifting to resetting the sawmill and getting some logs run through it. It’s been stored in the warehouse since it got back from Winthrop in late May. I got it back out and set it back up recently one Friday night after returning from Saranac Lake.

Burning off the pond holes.

Back in February I had cut logs with my friend Gregger in his big woods up behind his home in Winthrop. I stayed in his cabin for a night and we cut logs for a couple days. We targeted hemlock for me for my Homestead cabin siding. Four trees made a rather large pile of logs. For him we cut cherry and yellow birch. With the snow covered ground we made good progress and we’re soon finished with the project. The plan was to leave the logs till spring when we could bring the sawmill up to run them through.

Stacking the hemlock.

It was mid May before I finally got the mill up to Gregger’s. I packed some food and extra gear so I could spend a night in his cabin then work a second day without doing all the extra driving. We got the mill set up and Zane came up to help out. We got a few hardwood logs run through that first day before making a nice dinner of venison and fish. Zane spent the night at the cabin with me but had things to do the next morning. Gregger and I ran a bunch more logs through the mill and stickered all the lumber up on his trailer under a tarp. Rain was a little bit of an issue but we worked around it as best we could. By the end of day 2 we had made a decent start on the hardwood log pile.

Off we go!

There was a gap in our sawmill activity when Amy and I traveled for a long weekend to the Brimfield Flea Market in Massachusetts. It was quite the event! We ended up purchasing a number of things that easily fit into her car. We tried to buy sensibly but impulse purchases of collectibles can be difficult to control! While we were in Massachusetts we traveled to nearby Connecticut to tour her former hometown. Saturday would find us on the beach at Watchhill, Rhode Island. It’s a lovely sanctuary that has preserved and will remain undeveloped. There’s nothing like the ocean to stir the inner spirit. It was our first traveling experience together and we had a really great time!

Brimfield Flea Market.

May was moving right along and there was only one week left before the Saranac Lake deck project was slated to begin. It was obvious that Gregger and I could never finish sawing his hardwood logs and all of my hemlock. I decided to truck all my logs to the Homestead instead. So we sawed during the day and I hauled a load home every night. We cut up some of the hardwood slabs to weigh down the truck also. Cut into 10” chunks they were stored in the Homestead woodshed each night to dry for the tiny cabin wood stove to be used during the next heating season. We completed all of Gregger’s hardwood logs and some hemlock he needed before finally beginning to concentrate on cleaning up his landing. I hauled a couple big loads of slab wood to the Homestead for sugarwood as part of this process.It was time consuming and tedious work but one with a larger purpose. I was beginning to get a little road weary but stayed with the pace. The final morning would find me following Gregger as he trucked the sawmill back to the Homestead.

Headed back.

I had received an offer to pick up some hemlock logs from a friend of a friend over by Sixberry Lake awhile back. I had picked up one load the day we returned the sawmill to the Homestead and dumped them off in the meadow near the warehouse.The fellow who gave them to me wanted two 14’ 6×6’s in exchange for the logs. A very fair proposition to which I readily agreed! I hadn’t gotten them done however and his July deadline was fast approaching. I picked out three decent logs but ended up needing four as one turned out to be “shaky”. Wind shake causes the growth rings in hemlock to break out when sawn into lumber. It’s not super common but sometimes happens in hemlock. The boards and timbers fall apart when shake shows up. It’s a frustrating thing when it happens and often those pieces of lumber end up in the sugar house for firewood! I ended up making the fellow three decent 6×6 timbers and one decent 4×4 timber. It seemed fair. I loaded them onto the trailer and delivered them to him where he then loaded the second load of logs for me. Prior to that I had moved all the piles of logs in the meadow up onto the landing log loading platform above the actual sawmill.

Prepping for 6×6 sawing.

Prior to delivery of the timbers,Zane and I spent the better part of Monday last week getting some pine logs that were on the log loading landing run through the mill. The pine sawyer beetles had begun to bore into them just under the bark so it was time! A couple months later it would be a different story as the beetles would have gotten inside the logs boring destructive holes through them. Nature at its finest! Sawyer beetles serve as a frontline decomposer type process that helps dead pine return to the soil. It was hot and dusty work but we managed to produce some very nice lumber. All the slab wood was dumped off the tractor loader into the big outdoor pile right outside the sugar house woodshed. Another job for another day or days most likely! We may be a little behind schedule!😂

Moving slab wood to the sugar house.

I finally got tired out from sawing and hand peeled the last three pine logs. They won’t be bothered by the beetles with their bark gone. The lumber was stickered and stashed away in the old woodshed and in the warehouse. We had to stack and haul all the dry sap buckets that had been sitting in the woodshed for weeks first though. That’s done finally at least. Lots of task oriented work to get done. I finally called it quits but felt very happy with our accomplishments. We had done a lot! It felt good getting caught up a little and working with the sawmill! Nothing like accomplishment to stir the inner spirit and charge the batteries! All that slab wood will be used for making maple syrup. Talk about repurposing! It all seemed a little time consuming. Last winters log cutting in Winthrop. Sawing logs there as payment for the hemlock logs I got from Gregger. Hauling those hemlock logs to the Homestead from Winthrop. Then turning around and going after more hemlock logs at Sixberry Lake. And all those hemlock logs still needed to be sawn! Was it really worth all the time and effort? Why not just side the buildings with vinyl siding or rough cut pine? It represents something much larger to me however. It’s all connected in some way that many people might struggle to understand. Hemlock is gone from the farm property where it once thrived. Locked in the buildings themselves in the form of timbers, rafters, and siding. To use hemlock to transform the farm buildings and the tiny cabin seemed justified in that moment to me. Who would buy siding or lumber when the means to create it lay within my grasp? What price do I place on my goals and dreams? I have insisted on hemlock siding for my building projects and hemlock we shall have in large plentiful quantities. I will create each piece with a driven mindset of determination. The time I will have invested in creating the lumber will be significant. But so will be the MOONTABS that led to its creation. That is the very level of resolve and stubborn perseverance. There is prideful rural heritage in the tasks at hand and in the deeds themselves. It will be remembered and visible long beyond this moment. That is where the message lies if indeed there is a message at all. Perhaps I simply underestimated the very magnitude of the job itself. What does it truly matter in the end? When all is finished and slab wood burns in the evaporator from those same logs what will I think then? I will know that answer I hope if I am to be so fortunate. I will be residing within those hemlock shrouded walls of the tiny cabin and standing in front of my boiling evaporator yet another March day. Why ask so many questions anyway? What is time anyway? I will never get it all done anyway say the teachings of Abraham-Hicks. It’s an inner calling these things I desire to do. It is enough.✍️

Incoming hemlock logs.

Down To Earth

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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! ✍️

A Return To Volunteering

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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!

Mega load.

The Mysterious Morels

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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 !!

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The group of seven!

November’s Gifts

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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.✍️

 

 

The Loon Family

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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!

The Invasion and The Battle of Evermore

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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.