Snow. Slush. Mud. Water. Flurries. Wind. Sun. Clouds. They were all on today’s menu. It’s a March thing. And so we decided to embrace it and head to a spot we usually avoid this time of year.

Our destination was a country lane beside the Old Course of the Saco River in Fryeburg, Maine. During the winter, this road is part of the snowmobile system. In spring, summer, and fall, it sees a fair amount of traffic. But . . . because of current conditions and the fact that a portion of the road washed out a few months ago and another portion is under at least six inches of water, the gates are closed and the only traffic is via foot. Perfect conditions in our book.

I love to walk roads like this because they always have something to offer and today it was the discovery of a bunch of rather dramatic winter weeds known as Roundhead Bush-clover. Bristly, spiky flower heads. Curly leaves with nooks and crannies.

The sky was equally dramatic and ever changing as we viewed it while walking southeast with the ridge line of our beloved Pleasant Mountain forming the backdrop.

We managed to easily get around a major washout, but then encountered this and it is not a puddle. The water is flowing across the road and we could feel the current as we were determined to get to the other side.

We are both here to report it was at least six inches deep in the deepest spots. We were feeling pretty darn smart for thinking to wear our muck boots.

Just over a mile in we reached the coveted spot: Hemlock Bridge. The bridge has spanned what is now the Old Course of the Saco River for 167 years. Built of Paddleford truss construction with supporting laminated wooden arches, Hemlock Bridge is one of the few remaining covered bridges still in its original position.

Peter Paddleford of Littleton, New Hampshire, created this design by replacing the counter braces of the Long-style truss bridge, creating an unusually strong and rigid structure. During three seasons, you can still drive across it.

Yes, we’d seen a lot of water on the road and in the field and noted how high the river was and flooded the fields were, but it really struck home when we noted the short distance between the bridge and the water. And a memory popped into our heads simultaneously.

Today we never would have been able to kayak to Kezar Pond as we did in August 2023. If you look at the cement support on the left and scroll back up to the previous photo, you get a sense of how high the water is right now. And that’s not the highest it’s ever been. Not by a long shot. But you must keep reading to learn more about that.

Once on the bridge, there’s plenty of graffiti to examine, or not. I prefer to take in the views and love how the boards create a frame–this one looking in the direction of Kezar Pond.

And this toward Saco River. Both are a bit of a paddle, but a fun paddle.

Exiting the other side of the bridge, we discovered we weren’t the only ones to have passed this way. Perhaps we were the only humans, but raccoons had also been out for a walk, or rather a waddle.

After spending a few minutes looking around and scaring off Wood Ducks, it was time to turn around.

On the way out, it was the silhouette of one large and statuesque American Elm that captured my heart as it always does.

And we could see snow squalls in the mountains, while a few flurries fell on us.

At last we finished up where we’d started. And that’s when we saw the owner of the land we’d passed through coming down his son’s driveway. The legendary Roy Andrews is a storyteller of the past and we were delighted that he stopped his truck to chat with us. He told of stories passed on to him about logging operations and situations, especially when the river reverses flow during high water events and once a huge amount of logs were lost until they could haul them out individually in the summer. And he told us that the highest he has ever seen the river is three feet above the floor of the bridge. “Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he said. “It was 34 inches high.”

This was a reflection Mondate as Roy reflected upon the past and we did the same, both recalling different times we’ve traveled this way, via skis and snowmobile and vehicle and foot and we are so grateful that we can continue to enjoy the past and present. And hope for the same in the future.