Some Rain, Some Silence

I put in at Pond Brook meeting 15 kayaks as I set the canoe in the water. It's 2 parties with the first 4 people too cool to wear PFDs.  The second party has a leader and all of them wear PFDs.  It's why I added my rescue throw bag (it has 50 feet of floating rescue rope) to my kit for the day. 

I head out of the cove and turn downriver towards the chinkapin oak.  If I made a hand drawn map of this area (something that I do as an artist), the chinkapins would be on it. Not because they are particularly rare (they are not), but because this is the first place where I learned of their existance.  On that day I noticed acorns on a tree that seemed to have the wrong leaf, but it was just an oak that I had never noticed.

Chinkapin Oak

I turn the point finding a boatfull of bros fishing, not a forward bill cap amongst them. Next up was an Osprey perched in a tree, and then one of many Great Blue Herons that I would see.  Then, I spotted a weasel running along the bank.  It disappeared.  Mink are more common sightings, but mink are a bit larger and the ones I have seen have always popped up out of their hiding spot to look at me, at least once.  Mink seem to be curious.

At times, the water is glassy smooth. 

It starts to sprinkle, which gradually turns to a light rain.  I pass 2 fishermen hiding under the trees and ask them how it is going.   "A little wet," is the reply.  I respond, "yeah, but it limits the boat traffic."

There are very few boats out here for any weekend, let alone a Labor Day weekend.  Clouds knock out at least half of the boaters, and a bit of rain knocks out most of the rest. 

The rain stops, not that it was that big of a deal, and I continue up to the cascades.  I get rained on again as I near.  I turn and head back.

I have the river to myself at times, and for longer than I would ever expect.  And, it is quiet - no overhead planes, no motorboats, and no leaf blowers.  I cease paddling and soak in the silence.

More boats show up while I am in the last mile, but it still isn't anything like I expected.  

It was a fine day. 

From the Feral Cat Park

I head upriver from the Feral Cat Park, starting out at a quarter to twelve. It is a fine partly cloudy day with a moderate wind coming down the river.  I am surprised to see so few motorboats on such a nice holiday weekend, but I suppose that brunch isn't over.  The Mai Tai Navy goes to battle stations at a crawl.

Three Osprey are wading on the sandbar east of Great Flat.  Maybe they are feeding on small fingerlings. Every so often, I spot a Great Blue Heron or Great Egret. 

A few boats show up by the time I get to No Name Island. I go a little way into the shallow east channel.  That shallowness might be the reason this island lacks a name.  There is an early Goose hunter up about halfway.  He's collecting his decoys, obviously calling it a day.  Early Goose hunting is designed to get the nonmigratory Canada Geese.  I'm told they don't respond much to decoys, so it is mostly luck to have them show up.  However, hunters can take a lot of Geese during the early season.

I head back, crossing the river to paddle near the Dragonfly factory.  A few more boats go by, but for the last mile and a half I have the river to myself.  It has turned out to be a fine trip.

M is for Maze

I rounded up my friend, M, for a second low tide tour in the Wheeler Marsh. M is one of my most frequent canoe partners and she has been away most of the summer.  

We get down to the state ramp for our start.  At low tide there are not a whole lot of choices for start points as most of the rougher put-ins are mud slogs just to reach water.  Mud slogs are especially fun with a canoe on your shoulders. It is a nice sunny day, although the wind has far exceeded the weather prediction.  But, the wind at the river is not as strong as it was at the house.  We will have a headwind on the return, but it will be doable.

We get to the marsh about an hour after low tide. It is clear that today's low tide is not at all as low as it was during yesterdays trip.  In fact, it looks like there is another 8 or 10 inches of water.  The narrow mud flats below most of the cut banks are submerged.  The Least Sandpipers are out in force, but the Yellow Legs are nowhere to be seen.  We head down Nell's Channel and turn into the maze.  Yesterday I coasted in on little more than 6-8 inches of water, until bottoming out.  Today, we passed yesterdays turning back point and made it to the tight turns near the root ball, although we were low enough that I couldn't see the roots from the canoe... I just recognized the series of sharp turns in the channel.  We flushed some Great Egrets, young Yellow Crowned Night Herons, one mature Black Crowned Night Heron, several Mallards, and what might have been a dozen Black Ducks, and a lot of Sandpipers.  A good day for birds, but not like yesterday.  Anyway, we ran out of water at the root ball, and it would be at least an hour before we would be able to continue, so we turned and headed back out.

Hugging the river right bank, the wind wasn't bad.  Cut over and took the side exit and then headed back up river. 

Low Tide

I set out at low tide and head down to the marsh.  This time of year is particularly good bird watching with recently fledged locals and a variety of migrators.  It is about 75F, almost overcast, with a stiff but doable wind out of the SW.  

Low tide is especially peaceful in the marsh. The choice of routes is very limited, but the low water and exposed mudflats discourage most people from visiting.  All that exposed mud brings out a different bird crew than what one sees at high tide.  A dozen Yellow Legs are at the top of Nell's Channel, and just about anywhere that there is a foot of exposed mud, there seems to be some Least Sandpipers.  There's probably some other look-alike Sandpipers, but that has to be left to the Sandpiper freaks. 

Greater Yellow Legs

 I make my way down the channel and then through one of the side channels that heads toward Milford Point.  A lot of this is in six inches of water.  Four Teal overfly me.  I did not expect them.

Least Sandpiper

I turn around and head back towards Nell's and I decide to see just how far into the island I can get at low tide.  It would be a good spot to spy a Rail, but that's not going to happen.   With the tide rising, I can drift into the island.  There are more Yellow Legs, Sandpipers, plus a Yellow Crowned Night Heron, several Snowy Egrets and some Mallards.  Just about where I run out of water, maybe a 1/4 mile in, I turn a bend and find 3 Snowy Egrets and a Glossy Ibis.  Since I drifted in rather silently, I get to sit and watch.

Glossy Ibis and Snowy Egret

That is the limit for low tide in the island, so I spin and head out.  I flush 4 Teal, possibly the same that overflew me, in Nell's Channel.  The upper east side entrance to the channel has just barely enough water to make the passage.  Then, I head back upriver.

Dam to Dam

It is a nice overcast day with light wind and mid 70 temperatures. I head inland to avoid what would be low tide paddling in the coastal marshes.  

I put in at Indian Well State Park.  The sign at the put in says that there is a dam 3 miles downstream.  I only pay attention to the sign because the distance to the dam is exactly half that, and I am curious how many years will pass until the sign is corrected.

I head down to the dam. There seems to be only one other boat on the river, a water ski boat that is running a very skillful water skier through a marked slalom course.  I don't mind at all being around that type of boater as I can predict with good certainty where and what they will be doing.  It is a very calm paddle down to the dam.

I turn and head upriver.  The river isn't glassy smooth, but it is close.  My canoe moves along quite quickly in these conditions.  I pass several Great Blue Herons, a Kingfisher, some Mallards, a couple Cormorants and an Osprey.  That's not much for  five miles of river, but reservoirs seem to be that way - nice water storage, but lacking in the habitat department.

Getting over the Shelf is easy today.  The Shelf is a shallow that runs bank to bank and at the wrong water level, either too high or too low, the current is too fast for me bust.  Today, I might very well have coasted over it just on the momentum of the canoe. 

Once in view of the Stevenson Dam, there is a short stretch of whitewater, which is usually class I.  A big storm a few years ago rearranged parts of this stretch when Eight Mile Brook turned into a torrent.  I used to be able to paddle up through it when the water level was normal, but since the storm I haven't gotten through.  Today, the water is about as good as it gets and I eddy hop almost up to Eight Mile Brook.  There is some fast water here without the strategic eddies, but the real problem are a large number of badly spaced boulders hiding just below the surface.  It's exactly the kind of place where I might hang up the canoe if I stall out in the current and have to turn around.  Anyway, it is a good excuse to turn and head back.  

It has been a fine day, very peaceful and good for the soul. I spot a Green Heron on the return.  It flies ahead and disappears on the river right bank.

Up to Dividend Brook

I set out from Cromwell, heading up the Connecticut River.  It's a moderately big river in this stretch - 800 to 1000 feet wide.  It runs fast during high water, but most of the time it is calm and slow moving. The horizon is the tops of 60 foot hardwood trees growing along the bank.  I can see higher ground upriver where a glacial dam from the ice age formed.  Glacial Lake Hitchcock was behind that dam and it was big enough and deep enough that it depressed the ground beneath it.  The old shoreline actually runs at an angle descending as it goes upriver.  

It is calm, maybe 75F and mostly sunny.   

I cross over and follow the west side of Gildersleeve Island, a 3/4 mile long crescent shaped land in one of the bends of the Connecticut.  The island is forested and probably tops out at about 8 or 10 feet above the current river level, which means it is pretty much awash during high water events. 

From the top of the island I cross back to river-right. The purpose of the trip is to check on the beaver dam in Dividend Brook, and if I follow the river-right shore, I should run into it.  I pass a floating 8-point Deer carcass.  A ways on, I spot a Vulture and a Crow in a shoreline tree.  A little out of place, I find the reason about 50 yards away - a deer carcass that has reached the perfect state of decomposition for Vulture dinner.  

As it happens, Dividend Brook is the first inlet on that side of the river.  Unfortunately, it is shallow today.  I get in just far enough to know that I am in the right place, but the mud slog that is required to get up to the dam is not worth it.  I can come back when there is another 8 or 10 inches of water.  

I cross the river again and head back, following the other side of Gildersleeve Island.  There is a fair amount of willow growing at the water's edge, and the number of beaver peel sticks on the shore show that they are being well harvested.  Thin willow saplings are easy food for beaver, and the cut saplings send up new shoots after being cut.

And the bird report - half dozen Great Egrets, half Dozen Great Blue Herons, a couple Osprey, one Hawk, some Mallards.

East River

It has been awhile since I've been in the East River, a nearby and excellent river for a daytrip. I put in at Foote's Bridge.  The tide has been coming up for about an hour, and although there is 4 miles of lag (the tide chart is for the mouth of the river), the water is low, but just deep enough that I do not have to step out or wade at any of the usual shallows.  There is a big tide coefficient for the day - ratio of low to high tide levels, so it must have been almost bone dry here 2 hours ago.  It is a good day, mostly sunny going to clear sky, low humidity, and temperature in the mid 70's.  The prediction is for the light morning wind to ease up, but this seems doubtful.

I make it down and past the Gravel Flats without having to step out of the canoe.  There is a fairly strong wind, perhaps 10-15 mph.  It's tolerable in the forest section, but it could be a lot windier in the open marsh below Clapboard Hill Road.  I ease up and mull it over just above that road.  

Continuing down, the wind is lighter in the open marsh.  It's not the first time I've seen this happen.  There aren't any high hills near the forest, but for some reason wind is often funneled into the forest section of the river.  I find a flock of Yellow Legs at the first bend below the Clapboard Hill bridge.  There are a few Osprey, one Hawk soaring up high, and a solitary Yellow Crowned Night Heron just below the Big Bends.  Below the Post Road, a large flock of Laughing Gulls are resting on the dilapidated floating docks of the shithead-marina-that-never-opened-for-business (Madison really needs to clean that crap up).  

Below the railroad bridge, I duck into alternate Sneak as a orange plastic kayak comes my way.  No one is going to follow me very far into that increasingly narrow channel. I work through and return using the Sneak, deciding not to extend my wind wrestling anymore than necessary, and use the extra time to go up above my put-in.

The wind increases again as soo as I enter the forest section.  Go figure.  I continue on above my start point.  There's about a half mile of paddling in this upper section before the river gets shallow, which is also where frequent log hopping is required.  I turn back a little before that, just not feeling like pusing through the summer brush.  I kayaker appears behind me as I head back.  He's exploring, so I tell him some of what I know, and he continues.  I head out.