Smoke and Rain... and Bowling Dwarfs

Too restless to let a day go to waste, I put in from O' Sullivans Island.  It is, again, smokey.  For real, it is nearly twilight. Less brown than the previous days, I suspect that the murk is smoke and water particles, as it is humid as heck.  But, as happened on previous days, the murk is so thick that the temperature is cooler than one would expect.  There are a good number of people fishing from the banks.  Although the river is greatly improved over its industrial low point, I would never eat anything caught here.

I head downstream.  The tide is past low, but this far upriver, I won't notice the reverse flow, unless I want to really focus and pick at gnats. 

It is calm with an occasional light upstream blow that doesn't amount to anything.  I spot several Osprey, a few Great Blue Herons, an Egret and a couple Kingfishers.  It's as if most of the birds are grounde due to bad visibility.

I turn back at Wooster Island, the island that I can never remember the name of.  I usually remember it as Crescent Island, as it is crescent shaped.  Of course there is no Crescent Island in this area.  

I start hearing thunder when I make my turn.  It is quite distant, somewhere south and east of my location. It is rolling thunder.  I grew up in the upper midwest and mom would tell us the Dutch colonial folktales about thunder being the sound of dwarfs bowling in the sky.  This never made too much sense to me, even as a kid, because midwest thunder is a great booming explosion coming from a point source.  But, in New England, thunder usually travels across the sky.  Today it is starting southeast of me and rumbling west. The stereo effect is quite remarkable.  It is not at all difficult to imagine a damaged bowling ball rolling down a lumpy bowling lane.  Anyway, it is, so far, well south of me, and we have dwarfs in the clouds.

It starts sprinkling as I paddle back.  The wind comes up - a nice steady tailwind. The thunder continues for about a half hour, mostly traveling east-west well behind me. The sprinkle becomes a steady rain during the last mile, but it is warm enough that bothering to stop to don raingear would be pointless.  The fishermen have all run away by the time I take out.

Blue Sky and Bird Threesomes

Blue sky!  We didn't see any blue sky during the previous three days due to all the forest fire smoke that came our way.  The previous two days the smoke was down to ground level to the point of smelling it and almost tasting it.

I decide to make the run up to Lover's Leap.  I didn't feel like dealing with the tides, which are not timed ideally right now, so a fresh water route was in order.  I put in at the state launch in Bridgewater, on the Housatonic River.  It is calm, still under 70F, and sunny with a partly cloudy sky.  I can see a little haze in the trees if I have a long enough line of sight.  This could be the last of the smoke, or it might just be some humid air.  Anyway, the air is overwhelmingly improved over yesterday!

I spot a set of 3 Great Blue Herons.  This is the third time that I've seen a threesome in the last week or so.  It is unusual as Herons feed alone and usually keep a few hundred yards spacing.  The only time that I've seen them congregate is during mating in the spring.  But, this reminds of the threesomes of Oyster Catchers that I've seen in the last week.  I could be wrong, but I think that all of these occurrences might be recent fledglings with an adult bird, school in session for the young birds so to speak.  Birds that must fly in order to leave the nest, such as Eagles, Osprey, Herons, etc. have to be fairly close to full size for their first flight. And some, but not all, make that first flight in adult feather colors, or something close to it.  I saw this school session with Bald Eagles not too long ago.  Osprey will do this in a couple of weeks.

In the upper end of the paddle, I find a very large flock of Mallard Ducklings - 35-40 birds with a few adults.  This is quite unusual.  While Canada Geese often team together to create a flock of young birds, Mallards usually tend to their young as a family unit.  I spot and hear Bald Eagles in this same area and perhaps the Mallards have flocked together as a defense.  I have seen Coots do this where Eagles habituate.  Eagles hunting Coots is reminiscent of lions going after herd animals, isolating and focusing on an individual that might not have been paying attention.

When I get up to Lover's Leap, I do some exploring on the downriver side.  I'd read of an access point, and while I find it, I also find a "no water entry" sign courtesy of the state.   

I head back.  It is getting warm and shade comes less often with the sun high overhead.  Motorboat traffic is also building, although it is still well short of a bother... just an occasional bozo speeding by. It is still mostly fishermen. 

Smoke... It Smells Like Manitoba

It is, as it has been since Tuesday, smokey.  The forecast for the temperature is five degrees less than what was predicted yesterday, and I'm guessing that the amount of smoke in the air is reflecting that much sunlight, but I could be wrong.  Of course, the smoke is from forest fires in Ontario, Manitoba and Northern Minnesota.

I put in at Foote Bridge.  It is very quiet and there is no one around.  It is calm and the air smells of smoke.  If there is the slightest of air movement, the smoke smell becomes stronger, probably from soot particles being raised off of the foliage.

The tide is low at the bridge even though low tide was about 3 hours earlier at the mouth of this river.  The low water gives me a chance to stumble over the loose boulders under the bridge.  Then, back in the canoe, I pick my way through the shallows, adding only two or three small scratches to the hull.

A Great Egret waits out in the center of the Gravel Flats, which I fully expected to have to wade.  However, the tide has reached this spot and I coast easy with six to eight inches of water depth.  I spot a Yellow Legs, the first since they flew north to nest, about 2 months back.  They are in this river most of the year, overwintering if it is mild, and only leaving for their nesting grounds, which aren't too far north. When I look closely, I can see a barely perceptible upstream flood current.

 Spot a few Osprey, a Great Blue Heron, Snowy Egret, and a Yellow Crowned Night Heron.  There is a real flood current at the Clapboard Hill Bridge.  It is not bad, but it is there.

Another Yellow Legs at the Big Bends, plus a few Willets.   

Below the Railroad Bridge, I take the Sneak, then the Side Sneak, then up to the top of Bailey Creek. Out here in the open salt marsh, the taste of the forest fire smoke is less noticeable. A solo Glossy Ibis flies over. I head all the way down Bailey, then the Neck River.  The flood tide and a head wind that has developed make the last bit of the Neck a slow crawl, but I know there will be a reward.  The dock Osprey Nest has 2 adults and a chick - the chick has some adult coloring, but also still has some downy fluff.

Some guy seems to be practicing backing his boat trailer into salt water. No idea what he is doing as he doesn't have a boat, but he gets out of his truck to check his work several times.  I turn the point and head up the East River seeing no point in finding out what is going on.  The current is strongly in my favor and I zip along upriver.

The flood current dies off near the Big Bends, but with no wind, it is still easy paddling all the way back to Foote Bridge. 

 

 

To the Elf Forest... and Back

I paddled out of the North Cove at Essex with the tide falling, but still quite high.  It is quiet with a light wind out of the SW, a partly cloudy sky, and temperatures rising from the 70's to early 80's.  A Snowy Egret and a Great Egret are working the shoreline of the island that divides the cove from the main river.  Several Swans are in the cove, a couple hundred yards away but easily identifiable.

I follow the west shore upriver.  There is always at least one Osprey in sight all of the way up to Selden Neck.  Motorboat traffic is light, this being a Monday, and paddling this side of the river keeps the motorturds as far away as possible.

I cross the river once I am even with the lower entrance of the Selden channel.  

The wind is increasing.  It isn't a problem, just something to note as it will be a headwind on the return.

I decide not to paddle the length of the island, but instead head back into the Elf Forest. It is pretty quiet in there today, not much in the way of wildlife, but I always like paddling next to the mature forest that grows on the southern shoreline.  With a full canopy, the floor of that forest is shady and open with little brush.

I return coming down the eastern shore.  I prefer the cliffs and steep forest of this side of the river with the downside of having motorboat traffic to deal with.   Two of the motorturds blow by in large cabin cruisers at full speed and although it isn't a problem for me, it is rather rude.  Spot a mature and two immature Bald Eagles circling near the Ely House.  Probably school session for the immatures.

Cross the river, bouncing off of chop and old boat wakes and head into North Cove. 

East River in the Calm

I put in at Foote Bridge on a quiet and humid day with a weather forecast of possible rain and thunderstorms, although there was nothing threatening to the naked eye. 

The tide is falling, but still somewhere near the high point.  I pass under the bridge and then under the half-fallen tree that has formed an entryway arch for the last couple years.  A Goldfinch lands in a tree on the right bank.  At the first bend, a croaking from the phragmites produces a Green Heron that is being harassed by a Redwing Blackbird.  The Blackbird probably has a nest in there. The Heron flies to the next bend.

Goldfinch

It is calm as I cross the gravel flats.  I am still groggy from last night's restless sleep, but groggy seems to fit the conditions perfectly.

Green Heron

At the Big Bends, I spot a single Glossy Ibis feeding next to a Snowy Egret.  The Ibis flies over and past me as I fumble with my camera.  The Egret soon follows suit. 

I start seeing Willets as I near the railroad bridge.  When I get into the Sneak, the Willets are more interested in me.  I'm not sure if the young have fledged yet.  I'd expect more attention if the young were all still nest bound but even so, I regularly get a Willet flying a half circle around me alerting all the others that I am there.

From the Sneak, I head down Bailey Creek, then the Neck River, and back to the East River.  The Osprey still have their young in the nest, but the chicks do occasionally poke their heads out to see what's going on. I pass a kayaker who is still upriver a hundred yards in the Neck.  It is the only person in a boat that I will see.  I spot two sets of Oyster Catchers in the Neck river - three birds in each group.

Oyster Catchers

I have an opposing current and a headwind when I turn up the East River.  The headwind is more than worth the extra effort bringing some cool to a humid day.  The groggy feeling has passed, the day has turned out to be quite beautiful with blue sky and a few clouds.  I pass nonstop through a river-long herd of turtles, each one sticking the tip of it's head out of the water and disappearing in a blink when I get within ten yards or so.

My timing has been good and I avoid having to wade on my return trip. 

Bantam

S surprised me this morning, "Let's go to the East River." 

I checked the weather as it was already suspiciously windy at our house, and the East River salt marsh is even more exposed.  I suggest Bantam as the wind would be lighter and the temperature about 5 degrees cooler, in exchange for an extra 20 minutes of driving.

We put in at the boat launch at the bottom of the lake, with me promise of a close up look at the "Thomas the Tank Engine" house.  We headed up the west shore to avoid a pair of expensive day waterski boats that were doing circles towing kids that would be better off paddling or learning to sail.  Once away from that mess, there was almost no traffic of any sort.  We don't paddle lakes that often, so it is a pleasant change, even if it isn't particularly wild - because it isn't.

Spotted 4 Great Blue Herons in close proximity to each other as we headed toward the Bantam River. They are usually not that near each other. 

We headed into the outflowing Bantam River, and then up the more interesting Butternut Brook. Spotted a muskrat on the way in.  We turned back at the first beaver dam, as there is only about a half mile more of paddling, and it gradually becomes more work the farther in one goes.  Spotted a small beaver on the way out.

Headed back to the lake and then went east along the lakeshore to the inflowing Bantam River.   Stopped and took a rest at the first beaver dam.  Then headed back down the lake on the east shore, making sure to stop an marvel at the "Thomas the Tank Engine" house (my name for it) and it's stern paddlewheeler boat.  The owner certainly put money into the decorative features.  It has a clock tower, gargoyles, and a chimney that is reminiscent of what you see on old buildings in England.  eE cross the lake from there and call it a day.

Chipuxet - Thirty Acre and Hundred Acre Ponds

I stopped at Worden Pond, my intended start point, but with just a 10mph north wind, it was choppy as hell.  Paddling the 1-1/2 miles up the lake on a calm day is a nice way to access the Chipuxet, but Worden is no fun with any wind.  I swear that the lake would form a chop if anyone in the county so much as sneezes.  I divert to the Taylor's Landing put-in a couple miles north.

The water is up with the recent rain, but not at any problem level. I decide to explore the river upstream (Worden Pond is downstream).  I have wanted to head up before, but kept putting it off and so far have only gone to the bottom of 30 Acre Pond, where there is a well built beaver dam.

Approaching Thirty Acre Pond

I duck under the road bridge and dodge the poison ivy tree on the other side, which serves as a good reminder to mind the many turns.  This river would be beginner water except for the proliferation of poison ivy planted precisely where a beginner would struggle to make a tight turn.  The beaver dam is a third of a mile up and is partially breached.  While I do have to step out, it is an easy crossing as the dam is old and makes for solid footing - as much so as the river bank.

Thirty Acre Pond is pretty much what I expected.  It is mostly marsh land with a 25-30 foot wide channel running through it.  The upper section is open water. It is beautiful with lots of pond lilies, lotus plants and pickerel weed.  Apparently it is peak pickerel weed - purple cone flowers and bees everywhere.

Above the pond, the river is shallow, but only briefly.  After passing under the railroad bridge the river goes deep again on its way to Hundred Acre Pond.  Swampy and forested, a docked pontoon boat surprises me.  From the maps, I expected to find a larger version of Thirty Acre Pond.  Instead, I find a small open lake - about a quarter mile by a long half mile.  There are about two dozen houses spaced out around the shoreline. 

The river enters in marshland on the northeast.  It is deep and 25-30 feet wide.  About a third of a mile up is another dam and the river necks down substantially.  The dam is solidly built, but the channel is indistinct above it.  The water is deep enough, but the river has no channel, rather it flows through a tangle of marsh shrubs. It would be nice to push in, but I am pretty sure I would end up with a massive dose of poison ivy.  One thing that I notice is the water temperature is cooler than the water below. I am a full hour out from my start point.

I head back and continue down past the put-in.  There is more current than I remember from past trips, probably due to the extra water, but it isn't bad.  Some narrow turns careful doding of the poison ivy take me into more open river.  I cross two beaver dams, both just slide-overs.  It is hot in this part of the river with no shade - it is open marsh, mainly cattails and shrubs and stunted maple trees.  I;m getting close to Worden Pond but feeling that it is time to head back.  I get to a beaver dam where the river narrows - a spot I remember as the first beaver dam up from the pond.  I'm probably a 1/4 or 1/3 of a mile away.  It is close enough and I retrace my route.