The Missing Link

Since most always, I paddle alone or with just one other person in a tandem canoe, m y canoeing day trips are out and back affairs. Today's trip on the Pawcatuck, is to fill in  one of the missing links that can be paddled in both directions. There are a couple short sections of the river that are so fast that they are one way trips, especially so as they don't have portages that can be used to bypass the fast water. 

I put in at the dreaded Bisquit City Landing. It sounds impressive, but it is a small parking area at the end of a dirt road with nothing resembling a city in the area.  The route is to paddle upstream on the Pawcatuck until reaching Worden Pond. I was in here once before, several years ago. I spent much of that day going in wrong directions - down the Pawcatuck to where it is fast water and up the Usquapaug until it peters out in the swamp. Finally finding the right channel, I ran out of time about halfway to the pond.

The launch is on a small creek that passes under a railroad bridge and heads into the swamp. Passing through a narrow spot in the brush, I get to what you might not recognize as a river. This is true swamp - marshland with a forest, and the river is located by watching for the current - if there's no current, you're not in the river. My memory is hazy in that distances are very approximate, but I am do remember the directions of turns where I want to go, or not go.

It's a beautiful day, calm, warm and sunny. And, the marsh is also beautiful. The paddling is an occasional straight stretch of a hundred feet or so, and endless tight turns everywhere else. Maneuvering skills are required as there is an impressive poison ivy crop reaching out into the channel.

The easy log crossing

If I remember right, about a 1/3 of the distance to Worden Pond, the river goes under dense forest canopy. I'm not that far when I come to the first blocking log. It is an easy climb-over as the log as a perfect handhold limb to hang on to while standing on the tree and pulling the canoe over.  Too soon, the second block arrives. This one I can squeeze through after sawing off a half broken limb. It's not much more than 200 feet and three tight turns til I come to the third block. This one is ugly, actually two trees across the river with just enough space between them that I can't step from one to the other, just enough space that I can fall in between. I can't puzzle out the crossing without taking a dumb level of risk or bashing around in brush that is in three feet of water. I turn back.  On the way out, I head up the Usquapaug for half mile. It's wide open and easy paddling. Too bad it peters out into nothing.

Plan B - I load up and drive to the bottom of Worden Pond. I'll come in on the Pawcatuck from the other direction. With calm air, the pond is in good shape. It is a shallow pond and develops a nasty chop with any wind. The crossing is a mile and a half, and I find the opening just about where I guess it will be. This entire half of the pond's shoreline is swamp - the pond just melts into the shrubs without much hint of any solid land. To back up my dead reckoning, the state has placed a small sign announcing this as the Pawcatuck River.  

The river is narrow, a bit more obvious than the other end, but just as pretty. Again, the poison ivy crop is working overtime, but I don't have any log crawls, just a couple of limbo moves. After a half mile or so, I get to a blocking log/beaver lodge combo. There is a circle route around the lodge to bypass this, but before getting back to the "so called" main channel, there is a required paddle through a cloud of poison ivy. I'm sure that I'll have a few spots of PI, but I don't need to get it all over. I turn and head back to the pond. The missing link remains missing.

I paddle from the Pawcatuck along the north shore until I reach the mouth of the Chipuxet River. The Chipuxet should be called the Pawcatuck, or vice versa - some quirk of colonial thinking. From there, across the pond and out.

Pettipaug

I start in Pettipaug's North Cove. The tide is going out, but the breach in the bar still has enough water to get through. It is a fine day and this being a Sunday, there will be little solitude, no matter where I might have gone.

Osprey - note that the Osprey can look straight ahead -
binocular vision is handy for diving attacks on fish

I cross the river straight away and head down. The shoreline from Hamburg Cove down to the first entrance to Lord Cove is excellent. The land is too low to allow anything other than a couple seasonal cabins, and those landowners have done an excellent job at removing invasive plants and replacing them with native species. Instead of a phragmites choked shoreline, it is a variety of shrubs, small trees and cattails. The shore is about half sand beach and half spartina bog stuff. There are several Osprey, as usual. There are a few nests, but some of the Osprey come up from downriver, where there are thirty or forty nests.

Once I get behind Nott Island, it gets quite peaceful as the big boats stay to the main channel on the far side. Once below the island, I do get bounced by a few wakes, but there is more than enough time to see them coming. I enter Lord Cove and circle Goose Island before heading back up river.

Snowy Egret - black bill, yellow rain boots

I head up past Ely's Ferry, and recross the river at the bottom of Brockway Island. Then, follow the shore down to the big marina where there is a good low tide entrance to the North Cove.

Haddam-Higganum Section of the Connecticut

The weather is excellent although I need to go inland to get away from the wind. I put in at Haddam Meadows. Now a state park, the meadows were croplands and pasture going back to the colonial period. About  mile long, the meadows are classic low river land that would be revitalized each year with spring flooding of the Connecticut River.

I head upstream, against the current and the northwest wind, staying close to the river-right shore using it as a buffer against a 10 mph wind with some gusts. I've only paddled here once before and that was several years ago - I have pretty much forgotten everything.

Higganum Creek

The river-right (western) shore is quite nice. The long meadows eventually give way to a forested shore. There is a 2-lane road and a defunct railroad that are too close to the river to leave room for any houses. I must have misread the landscape when I was last here. The far side of the river is clearly a large wetland held behind a treed river bank. 

I work against the wind and current up to Higganum Creek, which enters under a decrepit railroad trestle. The creek is sheltered from the wind and makes for good paddling although after a quarter mile, I come up against shallows and a blocking deadfall. I turn back and drift down doing a quick survey of the creek bottom. I find a few pieces of broken ceramic, but nothing significant.

I cross the river aiming for the top of the wetlands. Hoping to find an entrance into the contained marsh, I follow the river-left shore. I only find 2 draining channels and both of them are narrower than the canoe. Once below the marsh, I head out to Haddam Island, follow that down to it's lower point, and then cross over to the broad sandbar that lies off of Haddam Meadows. The water is about 2 feet deep when I am still 200 yards from shore.

Farmington

I start upstream from the new bridge at Old Farms Road. It is the first time that I've put in here. There are several good spots to launch if one isn't too picky. This location is better than the nearby spots with a crushed rock trail leading down to the water.

When the new bridge was being built, an archaeology survey turned up an early Native American encampment dating 12,000-13,000 years old. That was a good find as that was near to when people were first entering the region as the ice age glaciers receded.

The day is mid-70's with a south wind that doesn't matter much as the river is fairly well protected. The sky is partly cloudy with large non-threatening cumulus clouds.

I don't paddle here as often as I once did, and I've forgotten just how pleasant and simple the river is; there are logjams or beaver dams to crawl over, it's just get into the canoe and go. The river has 10-foot high banks on either side with a thin veneer of forest to enclose it all. The veneer, of course, is rather poor habitat for anything other than song birds and it is backed by golf courses, play fields and some remaining farm land.

The river is a little higher than normal but not so much that it makes any difference. The current is a 2:1 (paddle 2 hours upstream, return in 1 hour), which is normal and about as good as it gets. 

The remains of the aqueduct pillar can just be seen back in the forest

It takes me one hour to get to the Farmington Canal Aqueduct ruins. The canal was finished in 1835 and the aqueduct was 270 ft long and 50 ft above the river. It was ready to go just a few years before railroads would make it obsolete. 

I reach the old mill dam ruins in 1-1/2 hours. There is a short 50 yard portage to get around the dam, but that is not in the cards today. I play for a few minutes in the eddies below the dam, and then turn back for an easy downriver return.

Animal Farm

It's Memorial Day weekend. Rule 1 - start early. Rule 2 - Avoid where the motorboats go.

I put in at the Green Chimneys launch with a plan of paddling up to Patterson and back, a total of 13 twisting miles of prime beaver habitat. I is about 65F, but will rise into the lower 80's. There is a threat of thunderstorms in the afternoon, but right now it is absolutely clear skies and the air is still.

Rule 3 - first one up the river sees the most wildlife. There are a couple of cars in the lot, but they have kayak racks. Kayakers generally don't get very far in the Great Marsh. Great Marsh Rule  #1 - You have to get out of your boat if your going to get anywhere. This is beaver territory, so dams and fallen trees are standard, and kayaks just don't work well for clambering onto beaver dams or over logs.

I start off. Before I get to the first pond, the word is peaceful. It is still and quiet, and the swamp is lush with spring growth. A Great Blue Heron watches me approach. The sunny clear sky casts deep shadows from the surrounding forest. Yellow irises are in bloom all around. I find only one small stand of purple irises.

I pass six people. Three are fishing, three are wandering about just below the forest section. They warn me of a couple Swans as they head out. I paddle through a low spot  in beaver dam and find the Swans soon enough. They have seven Cygnets - quite a good hatch!  The Cob hisses at me while the Pen keeps the Cygnets behind her. I swing as wide as I can and move on.

The forest section is fairly open and although I have to weave around a few deadfalls, there is no need to step out of the canoe. I spot two pairs of Canada Geese with a total of seven Goslings. I also find a hen Wood Duck with 13 Ducklings. Woodies clutch nest - hens will dump their eggs in an established nest leaving that hen to tend all of them. This one has one or two broods that weren't hers.  I ease up and they find a side channel to head up. The hen will feign broken wing and decoy predators (or canoes) away from the ducklings. I try not to get that started whenever possible. I spot two muskrats and one mouse, which was swimming surprisingly fast across the river.

The powerline portage is still required - a large pile of fallen trees block the river. It's just a muddy 30 footer, but it will stop 99% of the people that paddle this far. Then, it's a quarter mile to the only bridge.

The portage

The upper marsh starts with the bridge. After a hundred yards of forest, it opens up into a broad marsh where the only trees are dead grey sticks - a forest that the beaver started drowning out at least 20 years ago. But first, I am greeted by a black bear swimming across the river about 50 yards ahead of me. It looks like it might be 2 years old or so, just old enough that mom isn't with it anymore.

Clean bear

There's no one other than me in this section of the river. I see four snapping turtles, sized from small to almost big. The bullfrogs are twanging away as well. I find a solid beaver dam about a mile below Patterson. Most people won't get past it even though it has to be one of the easiest beaver dams to cross. It is solidly built and easy to get out and stand on. I meet some people on the water between here and Patterson. 

I have a nice talk with a guy at the Patterson put in. He is here working his hunting dog, but he knows his way around canoes. With that, I head back. I find everyone I had met on the water parked at the beaver dam. They ask if there is a way around it, and I shake my head.  I cross over and head on.

At the portage, I surprise a dozen people as I emerge from the weeds. They ask if there is a way around it, and I shake my head. I tell them it is just 30 feet of grassy mud, but I know they won't go any farther. I climb back into my canoe and head off.

I find the Swans inside the forest. I get hissed at twice this time. I pass a few more people on the way out. There's not much wildlife near the river with all the traffic. But it was an exceptional day.

Plover Migration

We started early enough, heading downriver to the marsh before the coming heat of the day. The tide is coming in, but the flood current was still slow. It is sunny with little wind, and already nearing 70F with a prediction of 82F by early afternoon.

S wanted to see some birds, and the Wheeler is the best option right now - lots of bird and little driving.

I am a bit surprised not to see some Yellow Crowned Night Herons as we get to the marsh. We head up Beaver Creek, where I've seen many in the last few trips. Sure enough, we begin finding the YC's. By the time we paddle out we have sighted about 15 of them.

Red Wing Blackbirds are all about. We see some Mallards, but with the tide still low, our sight lines are short. We can't see across the top of the spartina and most of the Ducks are out in the middle of the grass away from the channel. 

Near the refuge launch, we spot the Swans with their 4 Cygnets. The male puts on a bit of a threat show, raising its wings over its back and pumping up a bow wave with powerful kicks of its big feet.

American Golden Plovers

 

We cross the marsh towards Nell's channel. Now, we spot a good number of Golden Plovers. The first dozen is gathered on a small piece of remaining high ground. As we continue, we keep spotting more, mostly in groups of 15 or 20, but occasionally solos. By the time we get to Nell's channel, I figure it to be about 75 Golden Plover. The Plovers migrate from South America to the Arctic where they nest. While many of them go up through the middle of the continent, we always get some each spring. Their return trip is over the ocean and I can't remember ever seeing any in the fall.

American Golden Plovers

Going up Nell's, we watch an Osprey harrass a couple Egrets and a Night Heron. No doubt, the nearby Osprey nest has recently hatched chicks, and anything that eats meat is being warned off.

Back in the river, we ride the flood current up to our start point.

Thunder

I put in at Indian Well, one of two possible starts for this section of the Housatonic. Downstream is a the 1870 Shelton Dam, and upstream is the Stevenson Dam, completed in 1919. The reservoir is quite small by modern standards and runs a current which can be quite noticeable during high water although today it is pretty much nonexistent.

It is cloudy, with a very light wind and a temperature around 70F. The weather report has a chance of thunderstorms and there has already been a couple of light sprinkles that did not last long. I head upstream with a plan of going dam to dam, taking in the entire section of the river.

About 30 minutes out, it begins to rain hard enough that I dig out the rain gear that lives in the bottom of my pack. It rarely sees the light of day. After a few minutes, it is raining enough to be called a hard rain. I don't mind and in fact I enjoy rain paddling, up to the point where electricity comes into play. Much of this trip is in between high ridges, but as I approach one of the open areas, I hear a couple of distant thunders. I decide to head back where I have a bit more shelter. The rain increases and there is more thunder, so I land on a small beach. There is 200 feet of forested ridge above me, so I feel reasonably protected. I bail some water out of the canoe and then roll it over, as otherwise, I will have to bail it again when the storm passes. I stand on the beach and watch it rain. It dumps like crazy for about 10 minutes - all that is missing is hail. We get some excellent rolling thunder. Rolling thunder is common here. It will start far off to one side and the rumble will travel across the sky to the other side. It is easy to see where the old folktale of elves bowling in the sky came from.

All in all, it makes for a surprisingly good canoe trip.

I'm onshore for 45 minutes before the thunder moves off. As I continue, the rain stops and the river becomes glassy smooth.

The last mile before the Stevenson Dam can have a stiff current when they spill water out of the next reservoir. I'm curious to see what the river is doing with the recent heavy rain. I pass the shelf without any trouble (this is a shore to shore shallow shelf where the current gets accelerated, enough so that at times it is impassable in an upstream direction). Just as the dam comes into view, there are three horn blasts, no doubt signaling the release of water. Sure enough, one of the gates has been opened and a good dump of water is starting. With that, this is a good point to turn back.