Wheeler - Very High Tide

The tide is nearing high as I set out, with maybe an hour of flood to go. It is sunny and 75F with a 5mph wind out of the east.

I head down river to the maze.  At the entrance, I take a quick look around before going in - The first rule of maze club is don't tell anyone about the maze.

Red Wing Blackbirds and Willets are very actively bitching.  It takes a minute to figure out that I am not the problem, but rather they are chewing at each other.  And, I think it is the Blackbirds that are being the most defensive as they are also chasing Ospreys.

The tide is so high that the maze is pure beginner stuff - I can short cut between the usual channels. In fact, the most interesting thing about the island at this tide level is that there is no island - just submerged marsh with spartina managing to stick up above the water surface, in places.  

The gnats have hatched and they are a nuisance whenever I am paddling with the wind. A couple times, I paddle a circle to get the wind to carry them away.

I head east out and across the marsh, zigzagging through open water that would normally be land.  There are a good number of Yellow Crowned Night Herons, Great Egrets, Osprey, Mallards and Willets.  The Willets are probably concerned about the water level flooding their nests.

Baby Willets

From the East Side, I head back and through the maze once more before heading up river.  About a 1/4 mile above the marsh I hear some Willets - wrong place for Willets to be.  Up against one of the floating docks is a mass of floating marsh reeds.  A pair of adult Willets are watching over two small Willets.  They have drifted out of the marsh on the high tide.  The current will change soon, and hopefully the Willets will drift back to the marsh. If they get that far, they should have no trouble finding a safe spot as the tide drops and gives them more land to walk on.  Note that in all the time I've been in salt marshes with Willets nesting, this is the first time that I've seen baby Willets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over the Threshold

The canoe is nested in the branches of a deadfall.  Two more inches of water and I would have slipped through without any effort.  In fact, the gap in the branches where I sit was caused by other paddlers squeezing through during higher water.  Anyway, it is a nice place to sit as it took 3 hours of steady paddling to get here.  I guess that I might be a mile or so short of the Jay Cronin launch site, but there aren't any landmarks to go by - especially since I am not carrying a map to refer to (my guess is pretty close).  

Someday I'd like to do the full trip to Jay Cronin, but I figure the round trip between here and there might take 45 minutes to an hour with all the weaving through deadfalls.  I even toyed with referring to the mile below me as the "woodpile." Fortunately, someone has cleared passages through the deadfalls, although it still requires a lot of tight maneuvering.

I slide back out of the nest and head downriver.  I am three hours out, and at least two since I saw the last person.  It's threshold time - the point where I become part of the surroundings, when I stop quantifying and identifying.  It is the deep soak of a wild surrounding.  I spot a pair of Osprey after seeing one splash down into the river.  But the big bird is the treat - a Great Horned Owl that flushes silently and takes a perch to watch me pass.  

The trip down is easy with the current faster than I though as I paddled against it on the way in.  I portage the Burdickville dam remains, but take a moment to look over the old mill turbine that is in the mill race.  I've never bothered to walk over and see it up close and I am impressed that it is a 4-foot diameter cast iron turbine, which explains why it isn't decorating the lawn of some nearby home.

I pass the owner of the weird catamaran fishing bug cage, which is made of 2 canoes and a wood deck - truly a Jethro Bodine invention if there ever was.  That ends 4 hours of seeing no one else.

I take out fairly tired, and washed out. 

A Quiet Day in the Mattabasset

S had an errand to do just a few miles from the river, so the plan was set in stone.  We put in on the Coginchaug and headed upriver.  It was in the mid-80's and a bit on the humid side, but there was a light breeze and a mostly overcast sky.  That's pretty good conditions for canoeing on a warm day.  

The water was higher than I expected - we apparently met high tide by chance.  

With a late start, we were not the first in the river, so we were not going to see as much wildlife as usual.  Great Blue Herons, Cormorants, and a some songbirds were all we saw.  But, the day was pleasant and quiet and all in all, a peaceful day.

We got to the big gravel bar just below the old railroad trestle.  This gravel bar is a wade at normal water levels, and at that level not always worth the effort as a portage under the trestle and fast water under the next bridge deliver a one-two punch before coming up against a logjam, and more of that. 

We turned and headed back out, a very quiet day.

Birds

Morning was the hurry up and wait show.  I set out early in the afternoon when the tide was just about bottoming.  I had to stare at the water to see any current.  The temperature was in the 80's with the air rather humid, but with a light wind that made it all feel rather pleasant. 

I crossed the river right away and followed the west shore down towards the sea.  It took an hour to get down past Milford Point, this section of the river a large arcing turn counter clockwise around the Wheeler Marsh.  It is always impressive how much longer the west shore route is than the east side.  

Spotted a couple of Oyster Catchers on a small rock bar that only appears at low tide.  I went a little farther out, then crossed the river back to the east shore and followed the edge of the expansive bar outside of Milford Point.  

I spend a fair amount of time just drifting in the canoe and observing what surrounds me.  It is a good day for this. 

I had just barely enough water to take the first shortcut towards Nell's Channel.  A long sliding tone whistle caught my attention and I turned to spot two Black Bellied Plovers.   Continuing on into Nell's Channel, spot a few Yellow Crowned Night Herons, some Willets, and a few Least Terns near the island, where there are also a dozen Egrets feeding in the shallows.  The Terns and Great Egrets are feeding on small fish that are schooling in the shallows.  One more Black Bellied Plover watches as I leave the marsh and head back upriver. 

The Huldrafolk

Last night, I dreamed of huldrafolk.  The huldra and her male counterpart, the huldrekarl, are the hidden people of Norsk folklore. Huldrafolk have the ability to shapeshift - the female huldra often appears as a beautiful woman and may use that to lure a man to her people where he might become a captive.  I suppose that this tale may have been a more palatable excuse for why a skilled outdoorsman disappeared without a trace.  A huldra can be recognized by viewing it from behind, where it will either appear as a burned out hollow log or, have a tail.  I dreamed of a tall skyscraper, something similar to the Empire State Building, and when I walked around behind it, I found it to be a burned out hollow log.  Our modern huldrafolk are the obesely wealthy who often appear as brilliant and talented, but just as often turn out to be ruthless, self-centered, and greedy people with little in the way of a soul.  Waking from my dream, I realize and think about how our current President is very much a huldrekarl - a shapeshifter who lures people into his circle where only too late, they discover that he is burned out hollow creature.

The day was windy near the coast, but much less so inland.  I put in near the route 133 bridge over the Housatonic with an aim of paddling to Lover's Leap.  On my last trip here, I was met by high winds coming down river that convinced me to abort the trip after little more than a half mile.  Today is sunny, temperature in the low 80's, and a moderate wind.

As I head upriver, I find the wind to come from all around the clock, tailwind in places, headwind in others, crosswind or calm at times.  While the forested hillsides are not particularly high, the geography someone whirls and redirects the wind. It is noticeably odd.

I sight and flush Great Blue Herons more than any other bird, and it maybe totals a dozen.  Otherwise, it is just a pleasant cruise with little boat traffic or distraction.  It is an easy cruise and I am surprised to reach Lover's Leap, a distance of 6 miles, in several minutes less than 2 hours. 

I head back, finding the wind to be no different than on my way out - no stronger than before and still coming from any direction depending on where I am.  The exciting moment is finding a mature Bald Eagle eating a large dead carp.  

Ibis Day on the East River

I set out with a friend from the old ford on the East River.  The tide was still coming in, but the water was well deep enough that we didn't have to dodge any of the boulders in the upper section and the flood current was very light.  It was sunny and in the mid-80's with a light wind out of, more or less, the south.

Midday and already warm, it seems that much of the wildlife is laying low, or at least keeping things to a dull roar.  W is not from here, so I point out some of the historical features and we stop at the Parmalee dam ruins. As we continue I introduce W to the idea of tidal freshwater marshes and the salt marsh that makes up the majority of the trip.

Things get going in the center marsh as we approach the Big Bends.  We start spotting Glossy Ibises, and as we near they continue to multiply.  By the time we get into the Bends, we've spotted about 40 birds. The first Willets show up in the Big Bends, as usual.  And, there are a couple of Great Egrets in the area, and the usual Osprey ilk. 

Out of focus proof of Glassy Ibis presence

Below the railroad bridge, I turn us into the Sneak, then up Bailey Creek, and then back to the East River via the Long Cut.  Spot more Osprey, of course, but we alarm the Willets in that last area and they fly over while sending out their warning call to the nesting Willets in the area.  

We head back through the upper end of the Sneak and head up the East River.   The Ibises are still in the middle marsh, although dispersed into different areas than when we first saw them.  We have seen at least 50 Glossy Ibises today.

Near the Duck Hole Farms, we flush a mature Bald Eagle that we did not notice until we were underneath it.   

Great Swamp

Weather came through yesterday and it was a cold and windy one at that, but today is calm and sunny.  It is a day to take full advantage of - I head to the Great Swamp.  It may be my last trip of the summer there as the waters usually become weed bound with non-native invasive things as the summer comes on.  

I set out from Green Chimneys.  The temperature dipped to about 40F last night, but it is already in the upper 50's by the tie the canoe is set in the river. It is obvious that I am the first one here, and as I say, "first one in sees the most wildlife".  The water is down from my last trip, as it should be, but it is more lor less normal for this time of year.  Man, is the sky ever blue or what.

I pass a fluffy brown mammal - perhaps groundhog sized, but I don't get a good enough look to identify it.  As I haed up, I find that the first 2 beaver dams have been breached.  I think about it for awhile and figure that it was probably the Green Chimneys summer school program, to make it easier for the kids to get in to the swamp.  The next dam is a almost 2 feet high and intact.  Into the wild!

Just before entering the forest section, I flush a Bittern.  It's a nice sighting as I often go a whole year without seeing one.  They are rather secretive.  Unfortunately, I don't see it until it is airborne, so my camera is not ready. 

Things go pretty good up to the half-way log jam.  I portage that, then do a log step over a 1/4 mile later.   

I don't see anyone else until I am within 20 minutes of Patterson.

I turn at Patterson and head back.  The minor current is a noticeable addition to my cruising speed. It will be a 13 mile trip.

I don't see anyone else until I am in the forest section, passing a half dozen Barcalounger kayakers that managed to cross that 2 foot high beaver dam.  Two more watch me cross that same dam when I get to it and ask me questions about the route, in heavy New York City accents.  

It was a very god day. 

 

Looking for the Little Blue Heron

It is not a bad day at all with a temperature around 70F and plenty of sun.  However, the wind is all over the map, when looking at the map.  A moderate wind is predicted most everywhere, but inland, gusty weather is on the list.  There is a change coming sometime later today.

We put in on the Menunketusuck.  The paddle-able section is only a mile and a half long, but there are two equally long dead end arms to explore as well.  So, it makes a decent day trip, without considering the particularly interesting birdlife that visits.

The wind is not too bad at all. It goes calm at times, then rises enough to push the canoe around for a minute or two.  We spot three Glossy Ibises right after starting between the 2nd and 3rd bends.

Little Blue Heron - mature

As we continue down, it seems that Glossy Ibises are scattered around through the marsh.  Before we get down to Operas Singer Point, we spot 3 mature Little Blue Herons.  They are feeding about 50 yards away in a low spot such that their heads pop up every once in awhile.

We head all the way up the west arm.  More glossy Ibises and a couple Little Blue Herons, plus some Canada Geese, Mallards, Red Wing Blackbirds, a couple Least Terns, and a few Great Egrets and Snowy Egrets. There are Osprey overhead at most any time.

We head down to the railroad bridge.  It is the Elinor Roosevelt line - not really, but it is a fact that Elinor Roosevelt would take this train out here from New York.  The train would stop and drop her off about 50 yards from the river where she would hike through the woods to visit two friends that lived here.  Those friends donated their land to become mush of this wildlife refuge.

It is a grind back from the bridge with both the wind and ebb current against us.  

We find more Little Blue Herons and Great Egrets up in the east arm.  The wind is increasing, so we only go as far as the Opera Singer House before turning back.

One interesting note is that all the Little Blue Herons we saw were mature - no white or piebald phase birds.

 

High Tide - East River

I put in at Foote's Bridge with the tide high, temperature around 70F, and with a mild but unsettled wind.  

I spot a Green Heron soon after starting.  It flies down river and disappears into the trees. The river is coated with what looks like pollen.

As I paddled away from the Clapboard Hill Bridge, I got to thinking that I haven't seen, or at least remember seeing, any Marsh Wrens.  Of course, as soon as that thought arrived, my ears tuned in to numerous Marsh Wrens calling out from nearly every patch of phragmites or standing cattails.  It did not take much longer to find a nest.

There are a few Willets in the Big Bends, which is pretty much as high up the river they come.  I flush a half dozen Yellow Legs from the island in the second bend.

Below the railroad bridge, I head into the Sneak and then into the Long Cut, which takes me to Bailey Creek.  From there, I paddle down and head into the Sneak again, although this time from the lower end, deciding to spend some time exploring some of the side channels rather than doing the full loop down to the Neck and lower East River. The clouds are dramatic - cumulus with enough gray to show that they are carrying potential rain.   

At the top of the Big Bends I spot three white tail deer way over on the edge of the marsh.  I head into the brook entrance just above the top bend, spotting a single Glossy Ibis feeding in the spartina.  I paddle up the brook until it becomes too narrow and twisting to continue.  

Spot the deer again on my way out. They had circled around behind me.  They trot off when they notice me.  The Glossy Ibis remains put.

In there lies the Parmalee sawmill dam ruins

I stop briefly at the Parmalee dam ruins, then pause again under the trees just up from the French-Indian war grave when it rains some particularly cold rain for a few minutes.  As soon as I dig out and don my rain jacket, it stops raining.  And with that, I paddle the last half mile. 

Ruddy Turnstone Migration - East River

It has been rainy and windy for the last couple days. It was stay-indoors-weather that was too grim for a hike let alone a canoe trip.  So a cloudy day with a threat of modest rain, no wind, and warm temperatures was welcome.

I headed over to the East River, putting in at Foote Bridge.  The sky was a heavy overcast and so, no one else was around, until the guy with the e-bike arrived.  I've seen him many times before.  He comes here for short hikes in the East Woods and we talked for a couple minutes, both of us relieved to finally be outside.

The tide was heading out and had been for almost 3 hours, so there was a easy downriver current but still plenty of depth so that dodging rocks was not necessary.  The forest section had several Snowy and Great Egrets, a couple Osprey, Red Wing Blackbirds, and Swallows snagging flying bugs.

Yellow Crowned Night Heron

Spotted a young Yellow Crown Night Heron near the old trolley line.

Willet

Below the railroad, many Osprey perched in the few trees or on old posts.  Of course, the Willets were about as usual.  I thought about trying the Sneak, but figured it was more likely that I would have to portage part of it, and it wouldn't be so bad except for the unbelievably strenuous mucking from the water to the good footing of the spartina.  I continue downriver. 

Ruddy Turnstones

I continue all the way to the mouth of the river just in case there are interesting birds at the point. And, there are.  I find about three dozen Ruddy Turnstones.  This is the only place I've ever seen them, having spotted them here a few years ago. They are migrating to the Arctic coast in Canada.  It is a very pretty bird with colorful plumage that makes it blend in with the cobbles and gravels that it likes to feed in. They are also not particularly shy and let me float 20 or 25 feet away.  Anyway, they were quite busy turning over rocks and digging in the gravel.

As I head back, I flush a flock of 2 dozen Dunlin. 

The weather continues to improve, and while I have the river to myself, when I get back to my start point, people have arrived to hike the forest 

Bantam Lake, Bantam River and Butternut Brook

I wanted to return to the Bantam and explore farther up Butternut Brook than I did on my last trip.  The day is cloudy - a solid and somewhat dark overcast with the temperature in the 50's and climbing not too much more.  But, there is little wind this time, so I can set out from the bottom of the lake.

It is an ordinary lake, but I don't paddle lakes too often in this area.  I tell myself as I start that I might see Oprah's pontoon boat, or Paul and Edie's matching Wave Runners, or Dustin's 15 foot aluminum Lund with a smoky 4 hp outboard.  But there seems to be no one else on the lake other than a work barge putting out docks just barely in time for Memorial Day weekend.  

Unexpected #1 is a Red Throated Loon just a 1/3 of a mile into the trip.  I usually see them earlier in the spring in the tidal rivers as they migrate north, and did not expect to see one at all.  Four birds congregated out in the center of the lake notify me by calling that they are Common Loons.  I'm sure that I've never seen four all together like that.  I also get the rare diving Great Blue Heron - it launches itself off of the end of a dock and nabs a palm-sized flat fish.  The Heron flies a few feet to another dock and begins to choke the fish down.  If you've seen this before, no doubt you wonder why you don't see dead Great Blue Herons with fish jammed in their throats. 

Approaching the lowest dam on Butternut Brook

I head down the Bantam a short ways before turning up Butternut Brook.  The first beaver dam has recent wood additions (since my last trip).  This time, I cross it and continue up.  I flush a large White Tail Deer.  The second dam looks less maintained and although it is solid, it is also rather porous.  Beaver do pack mud into the dams to make them hold water.  The third dam is a ruin.  The brook at this point is getting fairly narrow and looking less like a marshland brook and more like a drainage canal.  A tangled log jam where the brook is barely 4 feet across is the end of the ascent - maybe a few hundred feet short of the route 202 bridge, just short of a mile from the lake.  I spot a couple Sandpipers.  I think they are Stilt Sandpipers on migration.  The white rump and greenish legs stand out. 

The second dam on Butternut Brook

I return to the lake and paddle over to the where the Bantam enters, and head up.  Lots of beaver sign, of course, a few more Great Blue Herons, a couple of muskrats.  I cross 3 dams to get up to Little Pond, although the 3rd dam is awash - a result of the newer second dam.  I continue up beyond Little Pond, which eventually enters a golf course before coming to a log jam.  I'm about 3 miles up the Bantam, and this will make for a 5 hour trip, so it seems a good point to head out. 

 

Ground Hog Day

It's the middle of a short springtime heat wave that will, as it often happens, bring afternoon gusty winds.  I start early, stay close to home, and plan to be off the water before the temperature climbs into the 80's.

I set out from O'Sullivan's Island near the top of the tidal section of the Housatonic.  The tide is well out and very low today.  Right away, I can spot extensive gravel bars upstream that I don't remember from past trips.  So, I head upriver toward the Shelton Dam.

I am surprised to find that the deep water channel is so serpentine.  The other surprise is the number of birds.  I count 8 or maybe 10 Great Blue Herons, a Black Crowned Night Heron, a Green Heron, half a dozen Mergansers, a few Mallards, an Osprey, and a completely unexpected ground hog.  

They, except the ground hog, are mostly busy fishing the shallows around the exposed gravel bars.  Looking down into the deep water, I spot more than two dozen large fish - which I guess are striped bass.  They seem to be in the couple hundred yards near the three bridges that cross the river in this section.

I head up to the island below the dam before turning back down.  When I get to the mouth of the Naugatuck, I head up a short ways.  From everything I've seen, the Naugatuck is shallow and bony and probably fairly steep over much of its length.  It also seems hard to access with a canoe, which is why I say "from everything I've seen".  I can't get much more than 200 yards up before running into fast and shallow water, which is no surprise. 

The Shelton Dam

I head down river again.  It is really quite peaceful today.  Low tide is a trip in the first couple of decades of the industrial revolution.  Old pilings, old bridge foundations, rotting pier remains, and a long wooden seawall stand out from the forested riverside.  The seawall is pinned with square steel bars, not the round rods that one might expect from a more modern construction.  The square bars are just about the same dimensions of railroad spikes, except for the length of course.  It is easy to imagine that a railroad spike producer might have gotten a contract to make the bars for the seawall.  The seawall is , no doubt, pretty old and survives because it is submerged most of every day.

I spot a couple more Great Blue Herons and a few Great Egrets below Two Mile Island, where I turn around and head out.

Housatonic 1

I've been in the car too much this week, so although it is a super fine day, I stay close to home and make do with familiar waters.

I put in from O'Sullivan's Island, which is near the top of the tidal reach of the Housatonic, and head down river following the west shore.  It is sunny, maybe 70F, and windier than predicted, although this might be due to the local geography.  

I pass a few boats here and there. Mostly, they are fishermen, but there are a few of the goofball variety.  But overall, it is fairly peaceful.  

The wind is coming stiff up the river once I get down a couple of bends.  I'll check the weather report later, but that only shows that it is blowing 6-9 mph at the ariport, which is a good 4 miles downriver.  It is pretty darn close to 20mph where I am at.

I cross the river a 1/4 mile below Wooster Island and return following the east shore.  This side is in the wind shadow, so I don't get too much of a tailwind, and the wind overall dies down in the last mile or so. 

Gray Weather in the Wheeler Marsh

There were things to do and it took a while for me to get going, so it was a late start and a put-in on the far side of town.  The tide was on its way out, so it was an easy and quick paddle down to the marsh. It is overcast with a chance of thunderstorms, but from the looks of it, not much of a chance, yet.  The temperature is in the upper 50's with no wind.

I head into the Nell's Island maze.  It starts to sprinkle.  I put on my rain gear as I have already got one fine soaking earlier this week.  This time I use science - it is a well known fact that if you put your rain gear on, it will not rain.  This theory does work and although it is not instantaneous, the sprinkle dissipates during the next 20 minutes.  I find my way through the maze with no trouble even though my solution seems to have some segments that are new to me.  I end up where I am going.  Spot several Willets in the maze.  

Coming out of the maze a large flock of Black Bellied Plover flushes on the other side of Nell's Channel.  I suppose it to be a hundred birds.  Near Milford Point are about 200 Brandts.  Looking out over the marsh, there are flocks of Plovers and Sandpipers moving around - far too distant to be identified though.  I come east across the mud flat section, well away from where most of the birds should be, but I want to check out some of the tiny islands along the way. All the way over to the east side, I get an up close view of a Black Bellied Plover, a Least Sandpiper and a Semipalmated Plover.  The Egrets seem to be over here on the east edge.  I can see a dozen all at once - half Snowys and half Greats.  

Semipalmated Plover

I head up Beaver Creek - not too much going on in there other than a 2nd Year bald Eagle.  It is in that mottled plumage between a dark first year and a mature with white head and tail feathers.

Least Sandpiper

I head back upriver passing a Green Heron and 2 Yellow Crowned Night Herons along the way.

It has been a good trip. My part of the world is right side up again. 

By accident, I lock my keys in my car. I think about it for a few minutes. Then, I find a wiffle bat in the weeds. I stomp the wiffle bat flat, which splits the brittle plastic.  Then finish whittling it with my pocket knife into a crude 3/4 inch wide strip  so that I have 30-some inch strip of stiff plastic.  I slip it in the top of the door and push the door lock button.  It takes less than 10 minutes.  It feels like a notable accomplishment.