Long Mountain

Dissing Fall Foliage?

~ lmachayes

It rained. And rained again. And rained some more. All spring. Seemingly all summer. And then we had a wee bit of a break as summer turned to fall. But . . . as important as rain is to trees, they didn’t necessarily appreciate so much of it. At least, that’s been the case for some species, in particular Sugar Maples.

Typically, the leaves on this Sugar Maple in our front yard don an orangey-yellow hue and add a glow to our front rooms in mid-October. Not this year. I took this photo on October 1, and as you can see, many of the leaves had dried up and fallen off prematurely.

The reason. The rain. Well, not the rain but related to the rain. Between all that water saturating the roots, high humidity, and warmer than normal temperatures, fungal spores attacked the leaves, causing them to turn brown and dry up since their photosynthesis had been slowed and they no longer had the energy to carry on into foliage season.

Probably adding to this particular tree’s stress was the fact that it had produced prolific fruits. It did look rather odd to see so many samaras dangling and nary a leaf. But, the silver lining, the fruits speak to future generations and next year’s buds are present and ready to overwinter for emergence in the spring.

That said, the front yard doesn’t look all that pretty with a pile of dried up leaves, but the chipmunk hole tells me that some local residents are thrilled–they’ve had leaves available for longer than is the norm to fill their nursery/bedding chambers and now that the seeds are finally dropping, they have an abundance of food as well.

With that in mind, my mind has formed a negative take on this year’s foliage. Oh, it’s been pretty in little pockets, but nothing to rave about and I was getting frustrated with Peak Foliage Reports telling leaf peepers how beautiful it is.

And so I wondered as we headed across a boardwalk to Long Mountain this afternoon, what we might encounter for color on our climb.

During much of the hike, Mill Brook babbled insistently . . .

flowed intensely . . .

and even roared immensely.

So much water, mimicking spring run-off, was the result of several more inches of rain that fell this past weekend.

Accompanied by the sound of the rushing water, and perhaps calmed by it as well, I began to notice the colors that surrounded us.

And when I looked down, there were jewels to be admired, like this Red Maple. Notice the V I added to the gap between the leaf’s pointed lobes? Red Maples offer a V-shape in the gap because they are VERY abundant in the Maine woods.

Fortunately, the Sugar Maples in this forest faired better than the ones on our road, which made me happy. So . . . how to tell the difference between the Red and the Sugar. The U-shaped gap can be thought of as a scoop. Get it? A scoop of sugar?!

Maple-leaf Viburnum, a shrub in the understory, had its own hues to offer. Usually I see these leaves in their mulberry shade, but either we were too late today, or this one decided to be much more pastel in hue. It doesn’t really matter because it was still beautiful, had fruits left for wildlife, and bright red buds preparing for the future.

It is a bit early for Northern Red Oaks, but some in the understory had given up their need to continue to produce energy and change is in the air, or at least along the veins.

A Quaking Aspen with its flat petiole (stem), was the greenest of the species we encountered today.

I think one of my favorites was the Quaking’s cousin, a Big-tooth Aspen, which also features a flat petiole. Oh, and what big teeth along the leaf’s margin.

I was reminded as I looked at this leaf that yesterday we learned of a man who when in kindergarten many decades ago, was allowed to use only one color of crayon. I suppose the same teacher also told him to stay within the lines.

As the Big-tooth Aspen can attest, nature is a much better teacher in that and so many other regards.

Okay, so I called the Big-tooth my favorite, but then I spotted an Elm. It didn’t feel quite like an American Elm to me lacking as it was that gritty sandpaper feeling, but being with My Guy, I didn’t have time to look around for more leaves or locate the tree. One day I will. The other choice is a Slippery Elm, but this isn’t actually their habitat. But then again, another lesson or two from nature–she doesn’t always read the books and there are no absolutes.

The cool thing, besides the tie-dyed coloration of this leaf’s edge, is the asymmetrical base, one side dipping longer down the petiole than the other.

And then there was the Indian Cucumber Root. I think what caught my eye as much as the red on the leaves and the fruits waiting for a critter to dine, was the negative space between the upper tier of leaves, creating a five-pointed star. Maybe they always look like that and I’ve just never noticed before.

Today’s hike began to give me a change of heart about the foliage. Whether at our feet . . .

or flying above us . . .

or forming a tapestry before us . . .

it was beautiful in its own way . . .

and I’m grateful that this turned into a Not Dissing Fall Foliage Mondate.

Recipe for a Mondate Dessert

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350˚F.

Prep Time: Four hours, including a six-mile hike.

Baking Time: Varies, based upon pace.

What you’ll need:

Birch burl bowl.

Birch bark baking sheet.

Red pine whisk.

Ingredients:

One slightly chewed Red-belted polypore.

A midden of spruce cone scales; be sure to discard the “cobs.” Any seeds will provide a bonus.

A year-old Striped Maple leaf as a sweetner.

A clump or two of reindeer lichen for texture.

A single Blue Jay feather for color.

And a bear claw tree for high fat content.

Directions:

Combine the fungus, ground spruce, striped maple, lichen, feather, and fat in the mixing bowl.

Beat rapidly in order to incorporate brisk fresh air.

Cream until the right texture is achieved.

Drizzle more water into the batter.

Keep an eye on its consistency, added more as necessary.

Pull the whisk straight up and down to form stiff inverted peaks.

Pour a glaze over the top.

Place it in the oven knowing that you put your heart and soul into the recipe.

Hike to the summit and beyond. After stopping for a PB&J lunch break out of the wind, check the oven.

Tada. The perfect dessert rising before you. Topped not only with the glaze, but a few snowflakes as well.

(View of Round Mountain from Long Mountain in Albany, Maine. If you go to this quiet place, do beware of ice underfoot.)

Long Speck-tacular

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

I suggested two hikes today to my guy and rather than choose one, he thought both sounded perfect. And so our journey began about noon as we ascended the 2.5 mile trail that twists and turns beside Mill Brook. Our destination: Long Mountain Ledges off Vernon Street in Albany, Maine, a property owned by Mary McFadden and Larry Stifler. Through their generosity, many trails in the area are open to the public. And through the work of their employee, Bruce Barrett, those trails are well maintained.

1-Long Mtn Trail

And well marked.

2-through the bog

At the start, a long series of boardwalks passes through a wettish area where so many ferns, and mosses, and wildflowers grow.

3-blue cohosh

Some, such as the Blue Cohosh, have matured to their fruiting stage–and their leaves hinted that another season is in the near offing.

4-red-belted polypore appearing to sweat

Once we began to climb, the natural community changed and so did the residents. One in particular reminded me that I have yet to understand its behavior. Why does the Red-belted Polypore weep, I wondered. It’s not a case of morning dew for nothing else appeared to have droplets of water. In searching for an answer, I learned a new word: gut·ta·tion–/ɡəˈtāSHən/, noun: the secretion of droplets of water from the pores of plants. On gardeningknowhow.com, I found this explanation: “The plant doesn’t always need the same amount of moisture. At night, when temperatures are cool or when the air is humid, less moisture evaporates from the leaves. However, the same amount of moisture is still drawn up from the roots. The pressure of this new moisture pushes out the moisture that is already in the leaves, resulting in those little beads of water.” If this is correct, I’m assuming the same is true for fungi.

5-pancake fungi

There were plenty of other mushrooms to see, including the pancake fungi my guy pointed out. He’s such a mushroom guru (NOT) that I instantly believed his identification. After all, they were plate-size and did resemble pancakes. All they needed were some blueberries, butter, and maple syrup.

6-Long Mountain Trail Ledges

Because the trail was so well created, it hardly felt like a climb and in just over an hour we had reached the ledges where the view included Round Mountain to the immediate left, also owned by the Stiflers, and the Whites in western Maine and eastern New Hampshire beyond. Suffice it to say, this was lunch rock.

7-crown-tipped coral

We descended via the same trail and I love doing that because there’s always something different to see. Today, it was a purple coral fungi. Did it begin life as a different color and the purple was a sign of maturity, I wondered. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I couldn’t recall ever seeing that color before and it seemed rather royal.

8-hobblebush berries

There were also hobblebushes to admire, they’re green leaves and red berries adding a bit of Christmas joy to the scene. OK, so I’m rushing seasons, but I am a winter gal.

9-heading out

Five miles and 2.5 miles later, we walked back across the board walk, hopped into the truck, and drove south.

10-Speck Ponds Trail

For all of ten minutes, for our next destination was another property owned by the Stiflers. This time, we followed Hunts Corner Road to Hutchinson Pond Road and looked for the trailhead to the Speck Ponds Trail. If you go, know this, drive until you think you are almost there, and then drive some more. It’s located on the right, along the dirt portion of the road, just after the mailbox tucked into a canoe! Huh? You’ll have to take a look for yourself to understand what I mean.

11-the chair

I’d heard that some trail improvements had been made since I’d last ventured there. Indeed, they had, including new red trail blazes and an Adirondack chair by the trail map. The significance of the chair, however, wouldn’t be revealed to us until we finished. Onward we journeyed.

12-Crossing the line

And crossed from Albany to Norway, Maine, via the woodland trail.

13-home of many beaver homes

First, we circled halfway around Upper Speck Pond, noting signs everywhere that beavers had lived there in the past.

14-if this canoe could talk

And an old canoe that had its own stories of yore to tell. Somewhere, a family or group of friends know the history of this sunken artifact.

15-beaver dam on Lower Speck Pond

About halfway around, and really, directly behind the sunken canoe, another trail connects to the Lower Speck Loop. We followed it and eventually came to more beaver sign, including a dam with some new wood atop.

15a-beaverworks

Downed trees with freshly chopped chips also graced the area.

15b-beaver lodge

And another lodge. I lost count of how many we saw today, but suspected the one on Lower Speck was active.

16-Lower Speck Pond

We moved quickly as we circled round both ponds for my guy had visions of tonight’s pizza dinner on his mind. And maybe a Red Sox game that he was missing as well.

17-comorant

Despite our speed, we did pause to admire one of the pond residents–a cormorant.

A total of nine miles later, we’d climbed and circled and oohed and aahed and wondered along the way. Oh, and that chair, we considered sitting in it for we were hot and tired by the time we finished, but had we done so, we’d still be there–snoring away!

A Long Mountain-Speck Ponds Spectacular.

 

 

Lovejoy Mondate

~ lmachayes ~ 5 Comments

A man walked into a hardware store . . . and told my guy about a couple of mountains we should climb. And my guy came home and told me. And we looked for trail maps and found none. And we decided to go anyway because we had a sorta idea about where one of them was located.

l1-Lovejoy Mountain Road

And so we drove up Hunts Corner Road in Albany, Maine, and located a road sign that bore the same name as the mountain we hoped to climb–and the road wasn’t plowed. But . . . another man was gathering mail across the street and so my guy asked him about the trail. The man said it would be fine for us to head in and we’d probably get as far as the pond where a few old camps stood, but wouldn’t reach the summit. We weren’t sure we would either, but figured it was worth a try.

l2-my guy way ahead

For those who have followed our Mondates previously, you’re well aware that my guy is often far ahead of me and such was the case today. The snow was deep and journey up a bit of a trudge, but that didn’t stop him. I really don’t mind for it gives me time to take in all that is around me and listen to the voices in my head. And I’ve a feeling he does the same–solving all the problems of the hardware world and any other issues that need to be addressed, plus possibly singing a few tunes to himself. The latter would never occur to me, but that’s another story.

l3-No Name Pond and Round Mtn

Today, we met periodically, the first time being at No Name Pond, where we enjoyed the backdrop of Round Mountain–a hike we’ve previously completed. Truthfully, this pond has no name–at least that I can find on any topo maps.

l4-bear pole

Onward we journeyed, for a few steps–because a telephone pole caught my attention. Do you see what I see? (Karen H.–I took you with me today and mentioned your name several times to my guy–read on.) Bites and scratches courtesy of a black bear.

l5-bearhair

And hair left behind. There was actually quite a bit of hair. But . . . I’d forgotten to put the battery in my Canon Rebel camera and so had to depend on my phone to capture all the moments.

l6-onward and upward

We really had no idea where we were going, and when we came to a Y, chose the left-hand route, which had a few water obstacles.

l7-bushwhack

And then we decided to do some bushwhacking because we had no idea where the road might lead and we assumed the mountain was to our right.

l8-Into the Evergreens

It wasn’t totally an assumption, for I’d downloaded a GPS program recently and played with it a bit. The mountain was to our right, but there was a ledge between us and it.

l9-finding our way

And so we did some traversing, and slipping and sliding, and offered each other advice and occasionally a hand. Well, he offered me a hand, which I gladly accepted. And all the while I dreaded our descent, though we figured we’d probably need to sit on our bums and pretend we were otters–belly up.

l10-over the tree

We finally saw the light of day and assumed the summit was just above. Only one more downed tree to conquer.

l11-me

We did–with lots of giggles thrown in as we practiced our graceful moves.

l12-moose work 1

But, we weren’t at the summit. Instead, we were in moose alley for such was the evidence we found on the numerous striped maple trees.

l13-moose work 2

There were no fresh tracks, but we knew who had dined . . .

l14- moose work 3

by the size of the tooth marks they left behind.

l16-striped maple leaf

Because we were in a striped maple community, my eye was drawn to their moose nipped buds of previous years, but also to the artful twist of occasional dried leaves.

l15- snowshoe hare track

We had also entered snowshoe hare (snow lobster) territory and their tracks were innumerable.

l15-view toward the Balds in Evans Notch

Again, we found ourselves on an old logging road, and then we decided to go off it and bushwhack some more. As we checked the GPS periodically, it showed that we were following a ridge, but still had a ways to trek.

l17-continuing on

We thought we’d been so smart when we left the road, until we swung through the forest and came to a bit of an opening where we realized it was in front of us again. Or at least we thought it was the same road.

l18-winter wonderland

And so we followed it through the winter wonderland.

l19-summit view

And at last, according to the GPS, reached the summit, where the view through the trees was of the Bald Faces in Evans Notch. It wasn’t much of a view–and we wondered if we might have missed one, but decided to save that thought for another time.

l22-cairn?

After treating ourselves to some dark chocolate McVities digestives, we started to follow our tracks back down. About fifty feet away, we spotted a cairn we’d walked right by–it was large and we didn’t know its purpose. To mark the summit? Or did it represent something else?

l23-bobcat print

On the way back down, we paused again–by some prints I’d seen earlier. Yes, Karen–this one is for you. A bobcat indeed. Because of the deep, soft snow, its nails had provided traction.

l24-hiking down

When we reached the spot where we’d done some bushwhacking, we decided to take a chance and stay on the road. It proved the right choice and soon we picked up our previous tracks.

l25-quartz snag

And then we got to see a couple of other things we’d missed on the way up, like this quartz snag. Huh? Funny things grow in trees ’round these parts.

l28-bear tree 3

And big mammals climb trees ’round these parts.

l27-bear tree 2

Yes, Karen, another bear tree. ;-)

l30-final view

Just below that we found ourselves back at the point where we’d climbed up the ledge. And discovered that the road turned to the right. Again, we weren’t sure we were making the right choice, but decided to take our chances. Bingo–it eventually curved around and we found our own tracks once again. We were tickled with ourselves and paused by one of the old camps to take in their view–the same view we’d enjoyed from above, but more open because some trees had been cut.

Roger Lowell had suggested this hike to my guy and the man collecting the mail said that the land belongs to the Stiflers, who own Round Mountain, Long Mountain and Overset Mountain, all hikes that we had enjoyed in the past. We weren’t sure the mountain road we were on was open to the public, but we gave thanks to Roger for the suggestion and the Stiflers for not posting the land. And we toasted this Mondate with sips of water–as we appreciated our love and joy for today’s journey–on Lovejoy Mountain.

 

 

 

 

 

Gifts A Many

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

I was seranaded three times this morning, first by my guy, then my friend Marita (well, her family cut her short and maybe I helped by quickly thanking her), and finally by Gracie the beagle. The latter was the funniest of all and she managed to get through all the verses. But really, what Gracie wanted was to butter me up in hopes of joining Marita and me for a hike. Sorry Gracie. Maybe next time.

d-sign

We crossed the state boundary a few times as I drove up into Evans Notch. Our plan was to start the day at The Roost, though we weren’t sure we could get there as we didn’t know if the gate on Route 113 had been closed. As we approached the “Welcome to Beautiful Maine” sign, we saw that the gate was open and so on we continued. Until . . . we hit ice. For those who know the road, and the steep ravines to the left as you travel north, you’ll understand why we decided to back up and turn around.

d-morning colors

Back to the sign and gate we went, pulling off for photos because we love the sign and because the field across the way offered an array of colors and more ice.

d-ice layer

It was a case of bad ice and good ice, much like the witches in the Wizard of Oz and WICKED.

d-frost on goldenrod

And the good ice sparkled like winter flowers.

d-Cold Brook 1

The curious thing was that along Cold Brook, which flowed beside the field, there was barely any ice.

d-bear scat

After a few minutes, we headed down the road to the parking lot for the Baldfaces and Deer Hill. The latter was our choice for today. And it turned out to be the perfect choice for early on the trail we found rather fresh bear scat. How sweet is that?

d-leaf bouquet

The trail is flat to begin as it follows the course of a dry river beside the Cold.  Evidence of high water from fall storms was everywhere and it was obvious that the dry section of the river hadn’t always been so. Left behind were displays floral in nature–this one reminded us of a stacked bouquet.

d-Cold Brook 2

Again we reached the real deal–Cold Brook.

d-Cold Brook 3

And stopped to admire the view.

d-Granite and ice

And more good ice.

d-dam

Then it was time to make the crossing. Marita went first and when she got to the other side of the green planks she looked back and said, “You can do this.” She knows me well and that my brain kicks into “No, I can’t,” gear every once in a while. It seemed so simple and yet, at her encouragement, I kept taking deep breathes and finally after what seemed like hours but was only minutes, I put mind over matter and made my way across. And it wasn’t difficult at all.

d-hiking with Marita

The climb up was moderate and we were glad we’d donned our blaze orange on this last day of hunting season. In the parking lot, a hiker had laughed at me and asked if I thought I was going to see a moose. On the trail, we met a hunter who was out with his two sons. And at the summit we heard shots, though coming from a different direction. Yup, we were glad to be wearing blaze orange.

d-whale or frog?

We paused briefly on the climb, and noted that we weren’t alone. At first we both saw a whale, but then I noted a frog–a stone cold frog at that.

d-reaching the summit

We were only following one of the trails on this mountain today, and it wasn’t a long one.  Within the hour we reached the summit.

d-summit signs

Years ago, the signage was confusing, but it seemed much improved. Then again, we only hiked to Little Deer and don’t know about the others.

d-bald faces

From our snack spot, we enjoyed the view of the Baldfaces across the way.

d-Mount Meader

And Mount Meader to the right.

d-biotite plates?

At our feet were biotite (black mica) plates that reminded me of script lichen.

d-feather

And in the ladies room I always find the coolest sights when I pause and look around. Today it was a downy feather.

d-crossing 1

In what seemed like no time, we were back at the dam. Again, Marita went first.

d-crossing 2

She turned back, grinned at me and then watched as I quickly followed. “Yes, I can.”

d-Amy's article on Long Mountain Trail

When I arrived home, I discovered cards from family and friends in the mail, as well as a copy of the Bethel Citizen. Thanks to writer Amy Wight Chapman, Marita and I were both mentioned in an article she wrote about Long Mountain in Greenwood.

A few minutes ago, my sister and brother-in-law also called to serenade me.

It’s my birthday and I’ve enjoyed gifts a many–from ice crystals to bear scat to feathers, mixed in with songs and calls and cards and comments from family and friends near and far. I am blessed. Thank you all.