Short Day in the Wind

I put in on what I call, Housatonic 3. It is the stretch of river above the second dam, with the tidal section being Housatonic 1. Also known as Lake Zoar, the touristy paddling websites will tell you that it is one of the better places to go canoeing. It is not. While it does have some forest preserve shoreline, it does not make up for the rather junky shoreline development that most likely started as cabins fifty or sixty years ago, each of which seems to have a beat up dock and a pile of neglected small boats, lawn furniture and float toys. I tolerate this a couple times of year, just to check out an interesting tributary or some of the coves.

Today, the main interest was to check out the shoreline for signs of the flash floods that occurred a month or so ago. I put in at the state boat ramp, planning to head down to Kettletown State Park. I sometimes launch at the park, but it is closed indefinitely as the road leading to the park was blown away during the floods, as was Route 34, which I normally use to reach this area and the next river section above.

It is a particularly fine day to be outside, but it might not be so good for canoeing as it is quite windy. I cross the river to the shelter of the far shore. The wind is no big deal up close to the forested hillside. I paddle close by dozens of junk docks. As I pass the last dock, a Great Blue Heron flushes from nearby. When I get down to Kettletown, I turn out to cross the river. Then, the wind hits me. The waves are no problem, the wind is just skittering across the surface at something close to 20 mph. It is an upwind paddle to get back, and I decide to get going in that direction just in case the wind gets worse.

About half of the way back is a bit of a claw, the rest being unusually protected. Across from my start, I assess the situation again. I have something I'd like to check upriver, but it is a mile of straight into the wind to do it. Time to call it a day. A pair of Red Tail Hawks fly over as I turn towards the put-in.

Mattebasset with E

My artist friend, E, joined me today. We met a couple years ago and I don't think we've seen each other more than one time since. I also had some artwork to return to her, and it turns out that I have paddle past her house before.

We put in on the Coginchaug. It is a sunny day, but autumn is here and the temperature will hit a high of 60F. There is also a stiff wind, maybe a dozen mph or so, but it is coming down the Mattebasset, so it will make for an easy return. The water level is low right now, as we've had little rain in the Connecticut River watershed. As I tell E, the Connecticut River rules as far as the water levels in the Cogichaug and Mattebasset. If the Connecticut is high, these two rivers just back up, sometimes to the point that you can leave the river and paddle through the bottom land forest.

The Coginchaug is just to shallow right now for an upstream trip of any length, so we head down. We're going to talk a lot, about a lot of different stuff. I've been taking new art friends canoeing for several years, precisely because being in a canoe together, and working as a team, seems to make the conversation flow. Besides the art-stuff and what-your-background-is-stuff, I'll give E a good introduction to the marsh, as this is my kind of turf.

The Big Lodge seems to be in use. The beaver were flooded out by repeated floods last year, and while the lodge is a little ramshackle on the outside, there is a fresh trail leading up the side of the lodge, a sign that the beaver have been adding material.

We spot the first Great Blue Heron, of maybe a dozen that we see on the trip.

We turn up the Mattebasset when we get there and fight the wind through the open area known as the Great Meadow, to people that look at old maps. There is a bank burrow just as we get to the trees. I'd seen this before, but couldn't be sure if it was in use. I explain why and how the burrow was made by the beaver, and how to spot one - they look like a pile of dumped tree prunings. This one is being mud fortified with a defensive branch pile in the water, which should be protecting an entrance tunnel that is exposed by the low water.

We continue up the wooded section of the river. The Point Lodge is in use. This lodge was built after the flooding and it has grown some in size. There are fresh clipped branches with green leaves in the food stash next to the lodge.

We continue up to the higher put-in by the Dunkin Donuts. With that, we turn around and get the wind at our back.  More Herons, one Flicker, one Kingfisher, a female Wood Duck, a pretty nice trip.

As a bonus I get treated to an excellent grilled cheese sandwich.

The Unexpected

The intention was to visit the main entrance channel leading into the center of Nell's Island. I made it through the maze of pannes and channels on my last trip, and noticed that the entrance channels had cut banks due to fairly strong tidal currents. I am using old glass bottles as a dating method for estimating the rate of soil deposition in the marsh, and cut banks are ideal as I can measure the depth of the bound bottle.

The tide has been coming in for about an hour. It is sunny, 60F, with a light west wind. The lower angle of the sun at this time of year makes the Egrets look even more spectacular than usual.

But, canoes are not the ideal vessel for getting things to go as planned. Not far into my paddle down Nell's Channel, I begin finding new specimens. 

Specimen 17
100 yards down Nell's Chan. River-left, 15 inches deep
Brown glass crown top beer bottle

Specimen 18
Half way down upper island in Nell's Chan. River-left (west side of island), 18 inches deep, clear glass screw top Owens-Illinois bottle, possibly pharmaceutical - reminds me of a big vitamin bottle

Specimen 18

Specimen 19
50 Yards down from #18 and same side of island, 18 inches deep, found in a near vertical orientation (this is unusual) clear glass Owens-Illinois crown top soda bottle

Specimen 20
River-right on Nell's Island where the channel bends west. Glass Snapple bottle, 3 inches deep.

There are a dozen or so Great Egrets and a couple Snowy Egrets in this area. Fish striking the surface shows that there might be a schooling of smaller fish. I turn up the main interior entrance channel to Nell's Island. I come across a large sandpiper type bird, larger than a Willet, and rather tame in that it tolerates me within a couple canoe lengths. It is most definitely an unexpected sighting.

Juvenile Hudsonian Godwit

Specimen 21
Nell's main interior entrance channel, about 200 yards in, river-right, 14 inches deep, plastic 6-pack ring

Specimen 22
Nell's main interior channel, about 50 yards in, river-left, 7 inches deep, fragments of a glass Coca-Cola bottle

I exit Nell's Island and head back upriver, taking the side entry channel, as I usually do.

Specimen 23
Nell's Side channel entrance, river-right, 6 inches deep, another plastic 6-pack ring, with one ring torn.

Specimen 24
River-right, triangle cut-off at the top of the marsh, estimated 5 inches deep in a partially slumped bank, green glass crown top soda bottle

The Nell's Island Maze

I headed into the Wheeler Marsh. I'm making a map and needed a better idea of where the cut banks are and where the shoreline tends toward mudflat. I put in about 2 hours before high tide on a sunny day with a fresh breeze coming downriver. 

When I reach the marsh, I realize that this isn't the best time to be assessing the banks, as they are already mostly submerged.

I head up my inner sneak to the Central Phragmites patsh, finding a drift log blocking the last fifty yards. It is not really a drift log, it just looks like one. There is a rusty eyebolt and hook on the back side of the log, and it would be a pretty rare occurrence for a log to get where it is. Hunting season is just starting and I am pretty sure that this is a "road block" from the fish and game people. This location is a popular site for the Night Herons, and the log is probably a clever way to prevent someone from setting up a hunting blind on Night Heron turf. 

Mylar balloon stabathon...before and after

 

Night Herons are definitely the most numerous bird today, and i will spot a total of about fifty. Most are young, but there are also some adults - both Yellow Crowns and Black Crowns. 

I head out and continue around the marsh. I find a pair of Goose hunters in the lower marsh. They are wading about for some unknown reason, and figuring out that they don't want to wade in the Wheeler muck. I continue on to Nell's Channel. With the tide still rising, this is a perfect time to explore the interior of the island, which is a maze of channels and ponds. And, it really is a maze.

It is possible to cross the island, and I have done it west to east.  It is more challenging east to west, however. There are a good number of birds on the island - largely because I am probably the only person to come in here in a month or more. I flush a flock of 10 Green Wing Teal, many more Night Herons, severl Mallards, and when I stand up to see if I can find the exit channel, eight Great Blue Herons from a fairly small area. I do notice that the main interior channel on the island has cut banks, so I need to come in here when the water is lower.

After a half dozen wrong guesses, I find my way out into the main river , and head back upstream.

Up to Wooster Island

My last canoe trip was one of continuous beaver dam crossings - twenty two crossings in just six and a half miles. I barely had time to paddle before having to step out and pull the canoe over a dam. I picked today's route accordingly.

I put in under the highway bridge on the far side of town. The tide was coming in and had about 2 hours to go. I would have both the light wind and the tide at my back as I headed upriver. I cut across to the narrow channel between Peacock and Carting Islands, spotting six Great Egrets and two Great Blue Herons on the way. I wondered if it would be a Great Bird day. In the narrow channel, I flushed a few Mallards, and one Green Heron, which would fly ahead a hundred yards at a time, until I reached the top of the islands. 

I recrossed the river just because I prefer the quieter channel east of Fowler Island.

I saw few birds until I got up to the nameless island above the 15 bridge. There were good numbers of Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, and one Snowy Egret, for good measure. Between here and the top of Wooster Island, a distance of two miles, I spotted about two dozen each of the Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons. Ripples in the water told why they were here. There were large schools of small fish, perfect food for the waders. And they were waiting... for the tide to go out. The high water was up against the bank, but as it dropped, the fish would be easy prey from the shore.

I took a turn around Wooster Island and headed back, following the opposite shore from my trip up. It made for a four hour trip without having to get out of the canoe.

Beaver Dam-o-rama

Driving over the Route 22 bridge, I glance over to check the river level. This is the only view of the river until I put in. It looks low.

The East Branch of the Croton River

At the Patterson put-in, the river does look low, but not obscenely so. A hundred yards down, I pass through a broken beaver dam, and then step over four more before getting a quarter mile in. These are all low minimal dams - 3 to 4 inches high, but they are structural and I have to get out and stand on the dams to drag the canoe over. The river is narrow, and sometimes the open channel is just barely wider than the canoe. I laugh to myself that if I had brought someone here for the first time, they would look at me and ask, "What river?" Anyway, it might be narrow, but the water is more than deep enough for paddling. 

An ominously open patch of water

Just as the river bends away from Pine Island, I cross my 7th beaver dam. It is obvious to me that the 13 mile round trip down to Green Chimneys and back is not going to happen today. This is going to be a slow picking away at the problem trip and making it down to the Route 22 bridge, the halfway point, will be enough. I'm fairly sure that these low dams will disappear when the river level comes back up. To me, they look more like a water conservation project to hold back some water until it we get some rain.

Dam #8 seen from below

The river widens some. This is an ominous sign. I pass a beaver lodge, then flush forty Wood Ducks. That is a good sign. The swamp seems to be a major stopover point for migrating Woodies. One fall, I spotted over 600 (six hundred) in the 3 miles below the  22 bridge. In fact, today the only Ducks that I will see are Wood Ducks. Of course, dam #8 appears at the bottom of this wide spot in the river. It is about a foot and a half high. I flush a pair of Ring Neck Pheasants. It has been years since I've seen them. They were introduced in the 1880's as a game bird.

With all the dams, all the stepping out and problem solving, I have to remind myself to look around and enjoy this spectacular place.

Dam #9 seen from below

A bit father on is dam #9, also about a foot and a half high. In this next stretch, I pass a well built beaver lodge with excellent and recent mudwork on the exterior. Usually, you don't see that amount of applied mud until closer to winter.  A lodge usually indicates a coming dam. Dam #10 is very well built, about two feet high, and sealed with a thick layer of mud on the upstream side. It is obvious that this dam and the lodge were built by the same colony - "mud" is their middle name.

Dam #11 from below

I sit at #10 for a few minutes. It is about a quarter mile to the 22 bridge, which is today's turn-around point. I decide to keep going, and this dam turns out to be an easy crossing due to some wood and firm ground on the left end. 

Dam #11 shows up, hiding just around the next bend. Then after a bit a of maze work through some low water and drift wood, I come to Dam #12. 12 is an old dam that fell out of use for several years and the beaver have come in and refurbished it. It still isn't holding back any water. I suspect there is an end run that the beaver haven't located, yet.

Dam #12 is close enough, with the 22 bridge not much more than a hundred yards away, hidden in the trees, but there just the same. I turn and start retracing my route. On the way back, I spot a Great Blue Heron and a Pileated Woodpecker, and a very noisy Hawk.

Adjective Hunting

I turn the first bend and the word, pastoral, comes to mind. If a river could be pastoral, this would be it. But it's not the right word, almost, but not. I haven't been here in awhile. I pull my camera out, and see that I haven't cleaned the lens in awhile. 

It is a beautiful day with a 50/50 cloudy sky, temperatures in the upper 60's, and just enough wind to shake acorns from the overhanging trees. Plop, plop, plop, one every few seconds landing in the river.

Coming into the Gravel Flats the bow of my canoe patters. There is a leaf wrapped around the stem upsetting the usual clean slicing of the canoe through the water. I don't feel like backing up to clear it, so I watch ahead for the first floating stick or reed. When I run the reed over, the canoe moves silently once more.

There is still some tide coming in when I get to the Clapboard Hill Bridge.  Most of my downstream paddle will be on slack high water. I spot some Yellow Legs at the Big Bends, plus the second Great Blue Heron, the second Great Egret, and a pair of Snowy Egrets that fly off as a pair to a panne on the other side of the river, and some more Yellow Legs.

I see my first Osprey as I come out from under the railroad bridge. There mostly gone south now, but there's always a few that stay late. I head off of the main river using the side sneak into Bailey Creek. There are three more Osprey perched on the little island that the side sneak sneaks around. This is a good spot to find Black Ducks, and I flush a dozen. I see the Blacks as a pretty shy Duck, flushing fro a good distance, and often before they can see me. This spot is a good hide for them as few people know they can get back here, and it is too close to houses, so it's off limits to Duck hunters.

I head down Bailey Creek to its confluence with the  East River, passing a small outboard inflatable that is heading into Bailey. They catch up with me when I am about a half mile up the East, and while I do appreciate their sticking to the 6 mph speed limit, it does take a month of Sundays for them to pass me. Tired of that, I take a side channel into the Sneak. ' nuf with that noise.

I take a brief side trip up to the Pomeroy Dam remains. I've learned a lot more about early dams and mills since I first found the ruins. The dam ran a sawmill during the Civil War period. 

It does not have a mill race, like most mills/dams in the area. The water exited through a stone channel at the bottom of the dam. I once thought that they must have had an undershot wheel, which is a very inefficient power wheel, but since learned that turbines, which are very efficient, were common at the time. Still, I am impressed by the tiny trickle of a brook that they backed up to run the mill.