A Pocketfull of Sun

 It is the finest day in so many that I can't remember the last day like this.  It is not a day to waste.

I put in under the high bridge on the far side of town, not wanting to spend time on the road as well as the fact that most of my favorite inland locations will be iced over. The temperature is still under 40F, but with calm air and a clear sky of nothing but sun, it feels fifty-ish. The high tide just peaked about a half hour ago and the downstream current is barely perceptible. I think about things that I might include in my journal for this day.  None of those ideas are relevant by the end of the trip.

It is an easy paddle down to the marsh and whether it is true or not, with a glass smooth surface, the canoe seems to move faster. 

The Maze enterance

I hear a few distant shotgun blasts. They sound far enough away that they might not be in the marsh.  I head into the Maze via the upstream entrance.  I flush a dozen Black Ducks and a couple dozen Canada Geese, that flush before we see each other - not an unusual action.  There are at least two Harriers hunting the marsh.  There might be four or more, but I do see two at one time.  Harriers cruise back and forth across the marsh, so seeing the same one several times is normal. I find the alternate route through the Maze on my second try.

With the water still high, I take the long roundabout around the marsh, following the shore.  This will keep me out of the way of any hunters. Soon enough, I figure out that no one else is in the marsh and the hunters are somewhere out on the Sound.

The Maze exit, unless you're going the other way.

There are a good many wintering birds in the marsh and by the time I get over to the east shore, I have seen a couple hundred Canada Geese and probably as many Ducks - mostly Black Ducks with some Buffleheads thrown in for good measure.  I stop at the Central Phragmites Patch.  Nothing there except a large sheet of rotten ice.

At this point, I am thinking up ways to make this canoe trip last longer.  I head into Beaver Brook, which always holds wintering Ducks. But, at the first sharp bend to the north, I spot a Bittern standing still with its head tipped up.  I stop to photograph this rare sighting.  It is only the fourth Bittern that I have seen although it is within fifty yards of where I spotted one a couple years back.  I'd rather not disturb the Bittern, so I turn back and head out.  

American Bittern

I pass my put-in, still needing more time on the water, and cut across the river to Cating Island.  If I hurry, I should have enough water to round Carting and Peacock Island.  

I have more than a foot of water at the shallow spot behind Peacock Island.  I flush another 75 Canada Geese.  I suspect that there are more by the sound of the honking, but the tall phragmites reeds block the view.

I recross the river and take out, a 3 hour cruise. 

Dark Day

It is a gray day, for sure. But unlike all too many recent days, there is little wind and it would be a shame to not make use of the conditions.  

I set from under the highway bridge on the far side of town, not wanting to submit myself to the mad-dash-looming-holiday drivers.  It is about 35F with a 5 to 7 mph west wind.  Without a speck of sunlight, that light wind brings on a chill to any bare skin, although not to any bear skin. The tide is still going out, but it does not have long to go to reach bottom.  

It's an easy paddle down to the marsh, and I am warmed up by the time I get there.  There are few route choices at this low tide level. All of my favorite shortcuts and inner channels are empty of water and will be so for a few hours. I head up Beaver Brook, flush a dozen Black Ducks near the first northward bend, and decide at that point to leave the rest of the brook to the Ducks.  It is a preferred hiding spot in the winter. On the way back I spook a Great Blue Heron as it comes in low over the marsh to land at the edge of the water.  The Heron circles back and disappears.  

I head down as far as Cat Island.  The main channel becomes mud flat at that point, as expected. Spot a flock of 15 Dunlin and a Killdeer, and 3 more Great Blue Herons.  The Herons are probably here as inland waters freezes over.

I hear several shotgun blasts as I head over to Nell's Channel.  I have a pretty good idea of where the hunters are, down where the tall spartina thins out and opens up into mudflat, or open water at high tide.  

Rather than extend the trip towards the hunters, I opt to call it a day.  Spot a single Dunlin that does not seem the least bit scared of me. On the way up river, I spot a Harrier up higher than normal.  It uses a couple of S-turns to drop to the marsh without gaining speed and begins a hunt by skimming the marsh.

Go When the Weather Eases

It is going to stay in the 30's, but the horrid 40 degree rain of yesterday has gone and left clear skies with a NW wind hanging in at 10 mph or less. Still getting used to the colder weather, I let the day come on some and put in at half past eleven.  The higher than normal tide has been dropping for two hours, so the current has built up a full head of steam.  It is an easy paddle down to the marsh.

I pass a pair of Common Loons fishing in the river about a hundred yards below the drawbridge.

I head into the Maze through the uppermost entrance, and flush 8 Black Ducks at the first wide spot.  The water is already lower than I expected, but I find the alternate route that I used on my last visit.  I don't remember it being as shallow as it is, but after getting 20 yards into it, I pick up a good strong current heading the way I am.  Because the tide is dropping, the current shows that there is an exit ahead.

A pair of duck hunters in a boat-blind motor past shortly after I exit the maze.  They're the only people I see in the marsh. 

Spot a pair of Harriers that seem to be hunting as a team. 

I make my way over to the east shore, although I have to backtrack once when my route goes to mudflat, again earlier than I expected. I flush the two Harriers from the spartina.  Their dark feathers and white butt patch are sharp in the day's bright sunlight.

It is a crawl back upriver against a still stiff tidal ebb and a quartering headwind.

 

Ducking the Wind

I set out from under the tall highway bridge.  The tide is falling with a couple hours to go.  The weather service called for 5-10 mph wind out of the west.  It is windier than that, but they got the direction right. Otherwise, it is sunny and just under 40F.  

I cross the river to take advantage of the shelter from the wind on that side.  Then, I follow the long lee side of Carting Island, make a surprisingly windy crossing of the channel to get on the lee side of Long Island (not that Long Island), and from there over to the west shore, which is steep, rocky and forested and completely buffered from the wind. The leaves are all off the trees at this point and with little recent rain, the forest floor is cinnamon colored. In the bright sun, it is quite beautiful.

I find a couple Great Blue Herons as I head up, and one fairly relaxed immature Red Tail Hawk. It doesn't have the red tail, yet.  But everything else checks out in the book of birds. Immatures are always tricky.

The wind seems calmer up above the islands, but it could be a clever ruse.  I cross to the other side when I get to the wind tunnel bridge, and the wind is quite a bit less than down below.  I take the back channel behind Fowler Island.  The tide is low and much of the passage is in a half a foot of water, or less. Near the bottom of the island a mature Bald Eagle circles before taking a perch in a riverside tree, where it waits for me to leave.

Following the east shore, the wind comes up again when I reach the quad islands.  It is gusting into the 20's. 

It Might Be Gray, but it is also Calm

It is a warm and gray day with the cloud ceiling quite low and the wind standing at calm. I set out from under the highway not long after low tide. 

When I get to the marsh, I take the only viable route - Nell's Channel.  There is 4 to 5 feet of exposed cut bank, so none of the inner channels will be passable until the tide comes in.  That 4 or 5 feet of exposed bank is 200 years of sediment.  I've been collecting embedded bottles as a method of determining a sedimentation rate for this salt marsh and today I find none.  If I think hard about it, this might be a tip off as to the stability of the marsh and that erosion is a slower process than I have assumed.  All I find today are tree branches sticking out of the bank. They look like roots that you find in rivers, but there are no trees in the marsh.  Some of the branches are driftwood that settled in the marsh back around the Civil War. 

I exit the channel and continue down the main river.  There are some fifty Brandts at Milford Point.  I continue out hoping to maybe spot a Long Tail Duck. But, I don't find anything except some Mallards and a few more Brandts.  But, it is calm and it is definitely a good day to be out here in the mouth of the river.

I cross the channel, minding the oyster boats, of which there are several. In the river, to limit the catch, the oystermen have to winch their dredge by a hand crank. I find a Common Loon working the tidal current on near the west shore.  When I cut back across to Milford Point, I spot another three Loons.  They still have summer colors.  They will winter here and during that time lose the white cross pattern on their backs.

I work my way through the shallows to the east shore of the marsh.  There is just barely enough water to get through. Spot a Harrier hunting the marsh, but otherwise it is very quiet. 

From the Gifford Pinchot Sycamore

An early morning start was sabotaged by a minor plumbing repair that needed to be taken care of so that there would be a pot to piss in.  With that done, I headed to the Farmington River.

I paddle different sections of the Farmington perhaps once or twice a year.  At most water levels, the river between its confluence with the Pequabuck and the town of Tariffville makes for good out-and-back trips with a 2:1 ratio (2 hours up, 1 hour back). It is good paddling although it has wildness limitations.  There is nothing worse than a riverside golf course to rip the wildness out of a river.

I put in at the Gifford Pinchot sycamore and head upstream. The water level is in the normal range.  The weather is somewhere in the upper 40's, mostly sunny, with a wind out of the northwest. There are just enough trees and hillsides that the wind is not a factor other than a little extra coolness on the back of my neck.

I flush a couple small flocks of ducks, Mallards by the calls. Otherwise, I just paddle. It is a nice river, but not the most exciting.  Somewhere near one of the golf courses, I spot a beaver.  I've never seen any beaver sign in this stretch of the river, let alone the animal.  The Pequabuck and Tariffville areas have obvious populations.  The only sign of beaver that I see during the trip is the beaver.  I wonder where it is going.

I turn back after a bit more than an hour and a half, and I am back to my put-in almost exactly on that 2:1 ratio. 

A Mostly Day

Mostly, it's a mostly day - mostly sunny, mostly calm, mostly in the 40's.

There is a light north wind coming straight down the main river when I set out from the put-in at the mouth of Salmon Cove.  I have a short ways paddling into it before getting behind the cedar swamp that divides the lower cove from the river.  The cool breeze makes my eyes water.

I follow the shoreline and the few trees in the swamp absorb all of the wind.  It i calm.  There is a tiny bit of ice in the tiniest of protected spots along the shore.  The night air has been dipping to just below freezing.  By the time I put in at 10 AM, it was already 37F.

The first big lodge looks as if it is abandoned.  I suspected from earlier trips that someone was in here trapping.  Trapping is legal, and from my point of view, rather pointless as there is no money in it.... like it costs more to drive to a trapping location than what will be earned from the fur.  This is one of those locations where I believe that presence of beaver is beneficial enough that this area should be off-limits.  The beaver here had been building ponds, which in time will fill in and raise the ground level, which is a long term method of naturally fortifying this shoreline from climate change effects.

Dibble Creek beaver dam and lodge

I move on to the Dibble Creek beaver dam (passing a mature Bald Eagle perched at the point).  It is an old dam, not just firmly built, but also root bound by saplings and shrubs that have planted themselves all along the dam.  There is a narrow channel leading up to the dam, which I have no doubt was created by beaver swimming and dragging branches through the marsh.  I don't think that anyone other than myself comes back in here.  There is a lodge just on the far side of the dam and it is freshly mud fortified for winter and ready to go. The area smells of castoreum.

There are about 60 Mute Swans in the cove.  There are quite a few first year goslings, still gray, and at this time of year they are being introduced to the flock.  Spot some Teal overhead, three Coots, and maybe a dozen Black Ducks. 

I back out and head up the cove, passing Venture Smith's place where the river enters the cove.  I find some thin and rotten sheet ice in the back channel on my way up to Leesville.   Flush a half dozen Common Mergansers and spot another Bald Eagle just below the dam. Spot three Great Blue Herons, here and there along the way.

On the way out, I take my usual detour up into the Moodus River.  There is some fresh beaver activity - drags, gnawings.

I find one lodge on the river-left side as I head out, not too far from the put in.  It was an easy spot with a good amount of winter food stashed in the water.