Lake Living, Fall 2018–worth a read

September 25, 2018September 25, 2018 ~ lmachayes ~ 1 Comment

The autumn issue of Lake Living is now available at a local store (for free) or you can read it online.

I had the pleasure of writing three articles. The first is about my friend Marita and the sixth edition of her book entitled Hikes & Woodland Walks in and around Maine’s LAKES REGION.

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Of course, I got to hike many a trail with her and so perhaps my review is a wee bit biased.

The article ends with a brief description of several hikes–I tried to choose different levels of ability for those.

All offer incredible fall foliage viewpoints, including Shell Pond off Route 113 in Evans Notch. (Wait a month and it will like this again.)

Then there is the article about barbershops. In the process of writing this one, I learned the story behind the barber pole. Do you know it?

Sitting in four local barbershops was fun–a great way to catch up on gossip and listen to some funny stories. Again I was a wee bit biased as Steph of Steph’s Barber Shop in Fryeburg is our next door neighbor at camp.

And finally, I spent some time with Arborist Josh of J and C Trees and learned more about his talent, entrepreneurial spirit and love of trees.

To say it was a busy summer would be an understatement, but the final product of Lake Living was worth it–as usual. Oh, and Laurie and Perri also wrote articles that will appeal to you.

So . . . as usual, brew a cup of coffee or tea and curl up with Lake Living. You won’t be disappointed.

Finding Our Way on Mount Tom in Fryeburg, Maine

October 25, 2016June 7, 2017 ~ lmachayes

I ventured this afternoon with my friend Marita, author of Hikes and Woodland Walks in and around Maine’s LAKES REGION, along with her daughter’s beagle, Gracie, on a new trail in Fryeburg.

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Mount Tom, a Roche Moutonnée, is an asymmetrical hill with a gently sloping up-ice side that has been smoothed and polished by a glacier. The other side is abrupt and steep–the down-ice side where the rocks were plucked off, leaving a more cliff-like appearance. As Marita noted, its most impressive view is from a distance, but today we sang its praises from up close. We’ve both hiked a 1.5 mile trail to the summit for years, but recently The Nature Conservancy developed a new trail that we were eager to explore.

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Within seconds I was exclaiming with joy. A huge, and I mean HUGE foundation shared the forest floor. Note the outer staircase to the basement.

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And the large center chimney.

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On an 1858 map, I found that A.H. Evans owned a home in about this vicinity, but I don’t know if this was his. Or any more about him. It will be worth exploring further at the Fryeburg Historical Society.

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The house extended beyond the basement.

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And was attached to an even bigger barn.

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Ash trees grow beside the opening, but I wondered if we were looking at the manure basement.

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Finally, we pulled ourselves away and returned to the trail. Well, actually, we tried to return to the trail but couldn’t find it. So we backtracked, found this initial blaze and again looked for the next one. Nothing. Nada. No go. How could it be?

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That didn’t seem right, so we decided to follow our noses, or rather Gracie’s nose, and sure enough we found the trail. If you go, turn left and cross between the house and barn foundations.

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After that, for the most part, we were able to locate the trail, but it was obscured by the newly fallen leaves and could use a few extra blazes. Gracie, however, did an excellent job following the scent of those who had gone before and leaving her own.

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The path took us over a large mound of sawdust, something I’ve found in several areas of Fryeburg.

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The predominate trees were beech, white and red oaks, thus providing a golden glow to the landscape.

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And then we came to the ledges. Bobcat territory. Note to self: snowshoe this way to examine mammal tracks.

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The trail was situated to provide a close up view of the ledge island, where all manner of life has existed for longer than my brain could comprehend. Life on a rock was certainly epitomized here.

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We continued our upward journey for over 2.3 miles (thanks to Marita’s Fitbit for that info) and eventually came to the intersection with the trail we both knew so well.

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From there, we walked to the summit where the views have become obscured by tree growth.

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But . . . we could see the long ridge of Pleasant Mountain in front of us,

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Kezar Pond to our left,

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and the Richardson Farm on Stanley Hill Road to our right.

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Also along the summit trail, the woody seedpod of a Lady’s Slipper. Ten-to-twenty thousand seeds were packaged within, awaiting wind dispersal.

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We decided to follow the old trail down, which passes through a hemlock grove and then suddenly changes to a hardwood mix. Both of us were surprised at how quickly we descended. And suddenly, we were walking past some private properties including the 1883 Mt. Tom cabin.

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The cabin sign was actually attached to a Northern White Cedar tree. I’m forever wowed by its bark and scaly leaves.

In the field beyond, Old Glory fluttered in the breeze.

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And just before Menotomy Road, we spied Mount Kearsarge in the distance.

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Since we’d taken the loop trail approach rather than an out and back on the same trail, we had to walk along Menotomy Road, so we paid the cemetery a visit and checked out the names and ages of those who had lived in this neighborhood.

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One of the older stones intrigued me with its illustration. I think I would have enjoyed getting to know these people.

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As we continued on, I was reminded of recent adventures in Ireland and the realization that we notice more when we walk along the road rather than merely driving by. We both admired this simple yet artful pumpkin display.

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If you go, you might want to drive to the old trailhead, park your vehicle and then walk back to the West Ridge Trail. We parked at the latter and had to walk the 1.5 back at the end, when it seemed even longer. But truly, the road offers its own pretty sights and the temperature was certainly just right, even with a few snow flurries thrown into the mix, so we didn’t mind. We were thankful we’d found our way along the new trail and revisited the old at Mount Tom. And I’m already eager to do it again.

Eagle Eyes

April 6, 2015April 7, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

Today’s Mondate began with the ritual PB&J creation at home. Our destination was a hiking trail in New Hampshire, but on the way, we realized the need for gas. So . . . a jig here and a jag there over the bumpy backroads and we landed at Center Lovell Market. While my guy was inside paying for the gas and chatting with a friend who works there, he was handed a slice of blueberry cake just out of the oven. He brought it out to share with me–and I sent him back in, hoping he’d buy the whole thing. Such self-restraint. He only purchased one piece–a good decision, certainly. But really?

We made our way back to Harbor Road in North Fryeburg, where something in the landscape caught my eye.

Always an impressive sight.

A mature Bald Eagle checking out the area around Charles River, near the old course of the Saco River.

Our destination–Province Brook Trail. This hike is for my friend, P.K., who first introduced me to this trail in her summer backyard a few years ago. While she winters in Florida, I hope she’ll enjoy today’s view.

We had to park on South Chatham Road, in South ChatHAM, New Hampshire. I once interviewed Frank Eastman, a South Chatham native, who informed me that it’s pronounced ChatHAM, not Chat’em, because H-A-M spells ham. A lesson I’ll never forget.

While we walked along the snowmobile trail, aka 2.5-mile Peaked Hill Road or Forest Service Road 450, two members of the White Mountain National Forest trail crew came along to close gates–a sure sign of spring.

Seeing a few potholes like this one, we could understand why.

We opened our eagle eyes and things began to appear.

Criss-crossing the trail, through snow and mud, moose prints.

Our eyes are forever scanning beech trees–on the lookout for bear claw marks. We weren’t disappointed.

On the trail, we saw several old scat samples. Coyote or bobcat. This one is all hair. I’m leaning toward bobcat–but am open to other conclusions. There were no obvious tracks to make a certain id.

And here–one very large Yellow Birch growing on granite.

Yellow Birch seeds find optimum growing conditions on moss-covered rocks, stumps and logs. Once the tree establishes itself, it clings to the rock and sends its roots in search of the soil below. Hemlocks do the same.

Finally, we reached the trail head. Oops, I lopped off the head of the hiker on the sign.

Province Brook Trail is currently closed to snowmobiles and ATVs, but we walked around the gate and continued on.

Still plenty of ice in the streams beside the trail.

And lots of snow.

Polypody Fern peeking out from under a snow-covered rock.

And Hobblebush preparing to bloom.

Lots of glacial erratics along the way. This one supports an entire community.

The tree in the center invited a closer look.

Fan-shaped Artist’s Conks.

Their white pore surface.

Looking skyward.

And a sense of perspective.

At last, we reached Province Pond.

Shaw Mountain is in the background–we’re saving it for another day.

On our way to a forest service shelter that was built in the 1930s (I know this because I read it in Hikes & Woodland Walks in and around Maine’s LAKES REGION written by my friend, Marita Wiser), the deep snow caught us a few times. My guy is knee-deep.

It pays to let him go first. I can then figure out where not to step. Here, he’s contemplating the brook crossing to the shelter. It was actually quite easy.