The Chapel

I put in on the Salmon River. The river is a tributary of the Connecticut and is inland a ways, so it forze over good and solid during the winter cold snap. I gave it some time to melt, and with other things going on, this is my first trip there this year.

I usually put in right where the two rivers meet, but taking in the wind forecast for the day, I decided to use a state park put in that is a few miles upstream.  The launch looks a bit like hell from the water, so I was surprised that I enjoyed a slow rotting road drive down from the hilltop, and it turned out to maybe be a better put-in, at least in the off season.  

I headed down river.  It was more or less calm and the air was fairly balmy. The wind came up once I entered the large cove that forms the bottom of the river. But, it was not bad at all.  I followed the river-right shore down to Dibble Creek.

The Dibble Creek Lodge, seen from the Dibble Creek Dam

I have been thinking about the spiritual places that I canoe, and what distinguishes those places from the general body of water.  The river is a very nice paddle, with forested hillsides in almost all places - forests that I can peer into as I travel. I am always on the alert for some previously unseen feature or artifact that has found a safe place in the forest.  But, Dibble Creek rates a little higher. To me, it's as if the river is a big cathedral, while the little nooks and inlets are the small and intimate chapels within the cathedral.  The creek itself is not anything anyone could paddle as it is far too small, and it is a no trespassing Federal reservation.  It is the little hidden bay that the creek tumbles into that is special.  Few people enter here. It is marshy and f course, it doesn't going anywhere, in a physical sense that is.  From the cove, one sees a shoreline that is not actually a shoreline. On a closer look, it is an old beaver dam, an apex beaver dam so to speak.  This dam is over 200 feet in length, but not much more than a foot tall when the water is low.  I call it an apex dam because it has been around long enough to grow a healthy stand of saplings and small trees. It is no longer just a beaver dam, but a land feature (and it can be seen in Google maps).

Dibble Creek

It takes a light push with foot to cross the dam, but with all of the tree roots threaded through the original structure, the footing is solid.  A beaver lodge is at one end of the dam on the upstream side.  It is a small lodge and I figure that the inhabitants have not yet started to breed.  They do harvest the saplings that grow on the dam.  The water inside the dam is shallow with many hummocks.  It is a quiet place and I can be sure that no one will be in here, or follow me.  Moving towards the creek, walls of gray rock form an enclosure.  The creek tumbles several feet to the pond.  

Old maps show a cabin on the hill overlooking this spot.  There are some stone walls, but no sign of that building.  There is an archaeological site about a 1/4 mile up the creek. It was a hunting camp and a cache of spear points were found there.  I remember it being dated to about 4000 years before present. 

I stay for a short time, before heading out into the cove.

The double lodge looks like it might be in use.  There is a new dam built 30 feet in front of the  original dam.  I don't find the very large lodge that was a 1/4 mile farther down.  It was abandoned when I last saw it and it may have collapsed.  Spot 2 Osprey, a small flock of Common Mergansers, and some Wood Ducks.

Moodus River

I head up the cove an into the Moodus River.  Beaver have been extremely active in here with recent gnawings all over the place. Really, it is about as much beaver feeding that I have ever seen in a small area.  Some of the branch cuts are 4 feet off the ground, showing the height of the snow in here during this winter.  It is rather startling to see those cuts up so high above the ground - almost looks like someone was in here cutting, except I can see the teeth marks clearly.

I head all the way up to the Leesville Dam.  A good amount of water coming over,  Then I head out.

Navigation Thoughts

Weather predictions for the area were all over the map with gusty conditions in many of the areas I frequent. As it was, the best of the weather would be nearby, so I set out for the Housatonic putting in upriver in Derby.  This would give me a tailwind on the return of the out-n-back trip. Other than that, it will be warmer than normal, getting into the 60's. The wind is out of the south at about 10mph.

About a mile down, I spot a mink working over the left bank.  Curious animals, they go for cover and then pop up as if they didn't remember what they were hiding from.  That behavior continues until the mink disappears about 30 yards upstream.

Mink 

This morning, I read an article by one of the old coot canoe experts about what has changed in canoeing during his lifetime.  The positives were canoes and paddles, which have both become lighter and more efficient.  I agreed about that, as I bought a new tandem canoe a few months ago - 43 lbs for a general purpose canoe - something I can portage as I age.  We also agreed about high tech gadgetry such as GPS and digital mapping tools.  I soured on GPS about 15 years ago.  I had bought my hand-held unit while I was assisting a local archaeologist.  GPS was a fine tool for giving the coordinates of an important feature or artifact so the someone might return to it at a later date. But, for my own navigation, while hiking off-trail or canoeing, GPS was annoying and distracting. You see, when one is trying to relate to the natural world, and trying to connect with wild places, one should be paying attention to what is at hand.  Wild land navigation is about spotting and remembering landmarks - a split tree, an unusual boulder, a large stump - just about anything that stands out. With that skill and a compass, you can find your way, or at least, you can find your way back.  It is a skill, which brings up another article (with a few peanut gallery comments) that I found about how people are losing their map and compass skills.  One of the comments was, "GPS has taken people's map and compass skills." This is complete bullshit as nothing took anything from people - they gave it up by relying on a high tech piece of equipment that tells them what direction to move (not that that is always possible). For these people, basic navigation skills (which must be practiced) have been replaced by an electronic arrow telling them what to do.  And, when I get into discussions with people who rely on GPS, I find that there is a certain lack of spirituality - Wildness is no longer something to wonder about and bath in, it is just a sports field, a place to rack up distance and time and checking off goals.

I paddle down to the wind tunnel and then turn back.  It will be a distance just short of 12 miles.  I collect another twenty yellow toy ducks.  I figured out that they most likely come from a Untied Way fund raising event in the town of Naugatuck, which is up the river of the same name. 

Wind

Although a sunny and warm enough day was predicted, there was also an expectation of gusty wind up into the 20's.  I spent the morning carving a new canoe paddle.  By afternoon, it seemed that the wind had not materialized, in fact it was fairly calm at the house, so I set out for a short spin through the Wheeler Marsh.

It was a little windier at the put-in, but it was coming straight up the river and extra work getting down to the marsh would be rewarded later.  

I opted to clockwise the marsh, taking the perimeter to Milford Point and then returning through the maze.  But, as I entered the wide open marsh, the wind was coming out of the southwest at about 15mph.  It was all work down to the bottom of the marsh, with the wind gradually coming more from the west as I proceeded.  I saw some Teal, Black Ducks, Canada Geese, and one Great Egret - the first of the spring for me.  But, the wind made it hard to pause take anything in.  It's good canoe skill practice, at least that is what I tell myself.

At Milford Point,  the maze was out of the question as it was difficult to guess where the entrance might be as the tide was high and the usual guiding "islands" of spartina had been cropped by the winter snow.

I headed back more or less straight through the marsh fighting a rear quartering wind.   Rear quartering wind is a bear with a canoe, constant work to keep the canoe on a heading.  When I left the marsh I found the the tide was ebbing - giving me a nice tide chop. When the current and wind oppose, peaky and taller than normal waves form.  When that happens, the canoe wallows.  It feels slow, and it is busy work keeping the canoe pointed where you want it.  

First Osprey and a Horned Grebe

I put in on the Lieutenant River and head towards the sea. It is a fine day, sunny so far, about 40F with a light S wind that doesn't count for much.  High tide is about an hour and a half away, and it will be a high high tide.

Right away as I cross the river, I hear a chip, and spot a male Red Wing Blackbird in the phragmites.  I haven't seen one in a few months. 

I take the usual back channel towards the sea.  The main river is big and wide and not particularly enjoyable to paddle, whereas the back channels is marsh and rocks and good wildlife habitat.  I spot a Grebe ahead.  The shape and the way that it dives makes it an easy identification, although I need a good photo to figure out which Grebe it is - a Horned Grebe.

Horned Grebe

Below the Watch Rocks, I find a large number of Green Winged Teals.  They are back in the nooks and little bays away from my route, but I can hear them and zoom in with the camera to see what is all there. I spot one Bald Eagle in flight and a Harrier.  There are a couple more large birds but they are too far off to identify. There is also a very frisky flock of Buffleheads that are busy playing grab-ass.

Nearing the Watch Rocks

I turn back when I get to the Black Hall River as I have plans to head up the Lieutenant.  

The plastic horsey got a lift to the recycling barrel

Just past the put-in, I spot a large bird well off and high.  It turns out to be an Osprey, my first sighting of the year. Just around the bend is a nest box where the Osprey lands with a mouth full of nest material.  And, it turns out that both of the mated Osprey are there!  The wind starts to rise as I pass the next bridge.  It's coming straight up the river and if it continues to build it will be a grind to return against.  There are some Ring Necked Dccks, maybe a dozen total.  This is not a surprise as I spotted over a hundred a week or so back when I was in Lord Cove, which is just a couple miles away.

The Eagle Nest that overlooks the Boulder Swamp does not seem to be occupied.  It looks like it is beginning to fall apart.  A nearby house went through a major remodel last year and I wondered if it was going to bother the Eagles.  They stayed put during the construction as they had young in the nest, but it looks like they have moved on.

It is a grind on the way back. The wind feels a steady 10-15mph with some stronger gusts. I hug the cattails and phragmites.  It is easier once I get below the highway bridge.  But, my shoulders definitely feel like they got a workout. 

Duck Dodge

I put in for a short trip through the Wheeler.  High Tide has just crested and the river current is slack.  The weather is near calm, and in the upper 30's with thick overcast.

It is an easy paddle down to the marsh.  I retrieve some more of the little yellow duck toys.  They seem to be all over lately.  They're used for charity events.  People buy ducks and then they all get dumped into some stream with a good current.  It's a race. Of course, some get lost. I collect 8 today and I picked up 12 a couple days ago, and I've spotted several that I couldn't reach.  It would be interesting to trace the ducks back to the origin.  Normally, I go a whole year without seeing one. I figure that the ducks got filtered out by a stand of cattails or a still pocket along the shore, something that got disturbed by the ice build-up of our colder than usual winter.

The marsh is very well flooded with a higher than usual tide.  In fact, following the narrower internal channels is not easy with the spartina clipped off and no longer sticking out of the water.  Anyway, I can pretty much go anywhere I want.

Northern Harrier

The birds are the usual mix of Canada Geese, Buffleheads, Common Mergansers, and Black Ducks.  The most notable difference is that there are a lot of Green Wing Teal migrating through.  I see at least a hundred Teal, and as they are small and scattered throughout the marsh, there are a great many more. Also to note is that for the first time this winter, I do not spot any Common Loons in the river. One Eagle flies through and I spot a Harrier.

I cut through the center of the marsh, pass the Central Phragmites Patch, come back across to Nell's Island, and paddle the Maze, which is not really a maze at this high water level. Then, it is back up river, hugging the shore to help beat a very stiff 3-4 mph current in the main channel. 

The Full Circuit

East River -
I put in just after high tide at the old ford.  It is still under freezing with a light and rather cold wind out of the north, and the sky is overcast. 

The current is with me and the wind is either at my back or coming from the side.  It is an easy paddle down.  Just below Clapboard Hill Road I find the remains of a deer on river left.  It is a 6-point buck that probably died late last year, as it still has antlers and the antlers are clear of velvet.  Right now, it is an exposed rib cage and has been well scavenged. 

I spot a few Common Mergansers, a pair of Hooded Mergansers, a few Black Ducks, some Buffleheads, some Canada Geese, one Harrier, and one mature Bald Eagle during the trip.  Not a lot of birds, but Osprey and Willets will come in over the next few weeks.

I run a figure-8 in the lower marsh - The Long cut to Bailey Creek, back into the bottom of the Sneak, then the old mosquito cut to the East River.  At the bottom, I head up the Neck, Bailey Creek, and the Sneak back into the East River. 

The return is cold and grinding with the wind and current against me.  I spot the Bald Eagle as I approach the Big Bends where it is perched at the lowest bend.  The sun then starts to burn through and that little bit of warmth feels good. 

Just below the take-out, I talk with a woman hiker.  I'd spotted her unusual backpack, which turned out to be a small guitar case.  She was out playing in the winds.  It's a nice chat, a nice end to the trip. 

Toy Ducks

I put in and cross the river, then head up under the drawbridge while following the west shore.  Then into the channel below Carting Island.  There are 4 islands here, and I sometimes call the the Quad Islands.  Pope's Flat (an old name for a marsh island) is in mid channel.  Long Island is west of Pope's but still in mid channel.  Carting is further west and the longest of the four islands. Peacock is nestled between Carting and the shore and both of those islands are separated from shore by narrow channels that can run too shallow at low tide for a canoe to get through.

It is colder than expected, still under 40F, and the predicted 5 mph wind is more like 10-15 mph.  It is somewhat raw.

I flush a few Mallards, a few Black Ducks, and a few Common Mergansers, as I go through the islands.  There is probably better feeding down in the Wheeler Marsh. I collect a little yellow toy duck, a remnant of some well meaning charity fund raiser that can't think of anything better than to race plastic toy ducks in one of the tributaries. 

I follow the west shoreline upriver.  About a half mile from the Windtunnel, the wind lives up to expectations and comes full in the face.  It is a crawl with the current also against me.  At the Windtunnel, I cross the river and start my return along the east shore.  I continue to collect toy ducks.  I end up with a dozen.  They are showing up probably because the winter ice conditions clipped off the spartina, which acts like a filter for all floating trash.  With the spartina down, the filtered trash begins to move to places where it can be seen.