Phone Tag

March 11, 2023March 12, 2023 ~ lmachayes ~ Leave a comment

We headed into the wilds today where we didn’t have cell coverage which was quite okay with us. It was a favorite hike, though we weren’t sure what the conditions would be so we brought both snowshoes and micro-spikes.

From the get-go, it was obvious that snowshoes would be the necessary item and so we donned them and headed down the road.

It’s a road I LOVE to walk rather than drive down because there are telephone poles that call for my attention. Do you see what I saw? Nice shiny numbers, yes. But even better, the scratches.

And on this one scratches plus bite marks. All the work of a Black Bear. Whether it’s the creosote on the pole, the hum of electricity riddling high above on the wires, or something new and shiny in their territory, Black Bears are attracted and rub their backs against the object as they turn their heads to nip and bite. The jagged horizontal lines speak to the upper incisors scraping the wood as they reach toward the lower incisors.

Almost a mile in we reached the starting point for our expedition. Much but not all of the Stone House property is conserved under an easement with Greater Lovell Land Trust.

Typically we circle the Shell Pond trail system in a counter-clockwise fashion, but we decided to do the opposite today and so once we reached the airfield, I had to turn back to take in the view of the mountains from part of the runway built in the 1960s by Henry Saunders so that he could fly into the Stone House property. Saunders Brothers owned this property at that time and had a dowel mill in Bridgton, but their main mill was in Westbrook, Maine.

The airfield passes by the Stone House and hikers must stay on the trail. In Cold River Chronicle, local historian David Crouse wrote recently: “The Stone House, located on the Stone House Road (formerly known as the Shell Pond Road) in North Stow, Maine, was built about 1840 of split granite blocks quarried on nearby Rattlesnake Mountain by Abel Andrews (1807-1884), who settled there with his family in the 1830s. Abel’s wife, Lucinda Brickett (1817-1884), was daughter of John Brickett of the so-called Brickett Place at North Stow. The homestead passed to Abel’s son Elden (1836-1914) and then to Elden’s son Ira Augustus (1863-1942), who sold it in 1917. Since 1917, this property has had a succession of owners other than the Andrews family. Between 1951 and 1986 it was owned by Saunders Brothers Company of Westbrook, ME, who built a private 1600 foot airstrip in the field south of the stone house. Saunders Brothers used the stone house as a hunting lodge for their employees and guests. In 1986, the property was purchased by David Cromwell. The Stone House farm property is still in private ownership and is completely surrounded by land owned by the U. S. Forest Service’s White Mountain National Forest.”

Each time we pass this way I give thanks to the owners who allow hikers and hunters and rock climbers to use their trails.

We continued on through the orchard, where we had to start breaking trail as others had turned back.

Rattlesnake Brook flows beside the orchard and in a couple of months wildflowers and ferns will emerge, but for now there’s a lot of snow, with a Nor’easter sitting on the doorstep waiting to enter in a couple of days.

Everywhere, there were Otter trails a few days old and I could only imagine the fun of sliding across the orchard, through the woods and in and out of the water.

As custom has it, we stopped at a bench overlooking Shell Pond and realized it was time for a Double Chocolate Brownie–energy needed to continue the journey.

At another stream crossing, I had to pause again. Spring will come and I will love it, but I’ll miss this.

And I’ll miss having the opportunity to spot sights like this–the track of a Mink. I didn’t have Trackards with me for this trip so I grabbed chapstick from my pocket for size. The chapstick is 2.5 inches in length and the trail width was a wee bit longer.

Hiking backwards, well, not literally walking backwards, but you know what I mean, I was afraid I might miss this guy, but there T-Rex was, donning a winter hat.

Onward and upward my own guy and I trudged, pausing occasionally to take in the view. If you decide to go in the next day or two, we packed a great trail for you to follow.

At a second bridge crossing Rattlesnake Brook, we paused again.

Another Mink track exiting the brook. Probably the same critter.

But this one was even better because a deposit had been made.

In the form of scat, of course.

After several hours of hiking, we found our way back to Shell Pond Road, and I picked up where I’d left off with my game of Phone Tag, checking each telephone pole that I’d skipped on the way in.

Pole number 7 was especially chewed up.

But, the real joy of the game was finding the phone message I’d sought–Bear hair. The color was such for it was bleached by the sun which causes a Black Bear’s hair to turn ginger.

If you do decide to go to the Shell Pond trail and play your own version of phone tag, be aware that you’ll need to park by the first field just over the bridge that crosses Cold River and walk in–trying not to swim in the pool along the way.

Who needs cell coverage when you’ve got such a party line of poles to follow?

Good Hair Mondate

January 10, 2022January 10, 2022 ~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

The temperature dipped overnight and wind picked up out of the WNW but given the destination we had chosen, we knew if we dressed appropriately we’d be fine because we’d be in the woods most of the time, unlike last week’s walk where we were completely exposed to the elements on Popham Beach. That said, it was cold today.

Our plan was to follow the trail around Shell Pond at the Stone House property and do it with micro-spikes on our boots rather than snowshoes. Or at least on my boots. Given that there had been some foot traffic, we hoped that when we actually arrived at the trail we’d made the right decision.

As it turned out, most of the traffic had headed to the air strip, but a few had walked our way and really, there’s more ice than snow in this part of western Maine right now.

We cruised along at My Guy’s speed, which boded well for keeping our bodies warm and gave thanks that we were both quite comfortable as we began to circle the pond. Mammal tracks were numerous, but most muted and really, we didn’t want to take time to stop and measure so we only named to each other those we were certain we knew.

Well, one of us did walk a tad faster than the other, but that’s nothing new.

In what felt like no time, we greeted the Keeper of the Trail who gave us a smile from below his winter hat.

And then we reached lunch bench, which my guy cleaned of snow so we could dine on our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in comfort. Well, sorta in comfort. It was here that we met the wind as it swept across Shell Pond from Evans Notch. So, it was a quick lunch.

And a quick journey to the orchard. As we crossed the bridge over Rattlesnake Brook I recalled once watching a muskrat swim beneath. My guy informed me that I’d probably not see such today–how right he was.

I was feeling a bit bummed that we’d circled so quickly but we did promise ourselves that by the Stone House we’d turn off the air strip and check out Rattlesnake Pool and Gorge, which we’d missed on a Thanksgiving Day hike when we journeyed up Blueberry Mountain located behind the house to Speckled Mountain.

Each time we pass this way I give thanks to the owners who long ago put most of the forested part of the land into a conservation easement with Greater Lovell Land Trust and allow hikers and hunters and rock climbers to use their trails.

And so up the Stone House Trail we went, passing the gorge to start so we could meet the brook at a spot above and watch as the water swirled under ice,

below boulders,

and down through a chute,

creating ice sculptures all along its journey.

Briefly it danced into Rattlesnake Pond, and then followed the course below.

The pool’s nature as forever emerald green never ceases to amaze me.

We met it again at Rattlesnake Gorge were the flow continued despite all the frozen formations.

Down it continued on its way to the point where I earlier showed it in its calm and completely frozen flatwater oxbow.

Click on the video to briefly enjoy the sound.

As much as I was thrilled to have visited the Rattlesnake sites because it was too dark to do so the last time we hiked here, it was the image in the negative space of the ice that really put a smile on my face today.

Do you see a bear?

Back at the air strip we turned right and headed back to the gate. After that, we still had another mile to walk because we’d parked closer to Route 113 since the road in to Stone House isn’t plowed.

And then we played my favorite Stone House Road game–checking telephone poles for bear hair. Black bears LOVE telephone poles. For the creosote? Maybe. Is it the soft pine that they can so easily chew and claw? Maybe. Is it a great place to hang a sign that you are available for a date or this is your territory? Probably, but maybe it’s the other two possibilities that lead the bears to the poles. I do know this. They are well marked along this road.

In the process of biting and scratching some hair is left behind. Mating usually takes place in late June or July, so possibly this hair was left then and has since bleached out in the sunshine.

Shiny numbers also seem to draw their attention, or perhaps the bear wants to hang its own sign and tear down the one left by a human.

Look at the horizontal dots and dashes–can you see them? Think of the bear turning its head and the upper and lower canine teeth meeting as it bites at the wood.

Closer to the truck one pole indicated that the bear won–it had almost totally remodeled the pole including removing most of the number.

As Mondates go, I have to say this one was a very good hair date! And I’m not talking about mine or my guy’s, since we didn’t care what we looked like as long as our warm hats smooshed our manes.

Breaking Tradition

November 26, 2021November 26, 2021 ~ lmachayes ~ 5 Comments

While most people gathered round a table to share a feast yesterday, my guy and I decided to give thanks in a different manner . . .

And pardon the turkeys. Instead, it was chicken and cranberry relish sandwiches that we made in the morning, the ingredients locally sourced.

And then on to The Stone House in Evans Notch did we drive, our hearts grateful that there were only two other vehicles parked by the gate.

Our official journey began on White Cairn trail, where though we don’t always do what we’re told, this time we abided the sign, given that there was maybe a foot of water below. Otherwise, I’m sure we would have jumped in.

It’s a steady climb up Blueberry Mountain. Oak and beech leaves obscured rocks while hearts pumped vigorously. Because of the latter, my guy took a seat while I shed a couple of layers of clothing.

Part way to the summit, a look back revealed Shell Pond glimmering below.

And then in the middle of nowhere, which really is always somewhere, we met the official greeter–a cockeyed face that has weathered many a storm.

Lunch rock turned out to be Blueberry’s summit ledges, where we could again see the conch-like shape of the pond below, Pleasant Mountain’s ridge line in the far beyond, and a front moving our way by the look of the sky.

Though summer had escaped this mountain months ago, the flowers continued to grace the rocky landscape with their unique colors and seedpods, and of course, buds whispered hope for the future, this being Rhodora.

Among the mix was plenty of Sheep Laurel, its seed capsules reminding me of the jingle bells we’ll soon hear pealing Noel tunes.

Leaving Blueberry Mountain behind, we climbed more ledges where three types of reindeer lichen added their own hues and textures to the scene.

It’s a fairly long hike up and back at almost ten miles, which came into perspective when we noted the upper and lower bays of Kezar Lake in Lovell, which is about nine miles long.

Between open ledges, we frequently passed through conifer stands where occasionally we spied red-belted polypores on standing tree snags.

And then it was onward and upward again to the next conifer stand.

My heart sang within that stand when we came upon Hobblebushes, their leaf and flower buds donning hairy winter coats so unlike the waxy, scaled buds of the Rhodora and so many other shrubs and trees.

Sometimes the trail through the conifers had challenges to offer not in the form of slippery leaves, but rather ice. That’s why one packs micro-spikes at this time of year.

Those much more agile than us in this mountain terrain had already feasted and as usual left their garbage pile, aka midden, of spruce cone scales behind. They don’t observe “Leave no trace.” But it is for the Red Squirrels and all other critters and birds that we do.

It was early afternoon when we reached the second summit we sought–Speckled Mountain–where a fire tower once stood. Our pause was quick for we needed to climb down before dark. Though again, headlamps in the pack are another must have and we did.

First though, we enjoyed the view and a slice of chocolate chip pumpkin bread. Mount Washington’s snow-covered peak was part of the backdrop to the west.

It’s almost a 360˚ panorama from the top.

Daylight waned as we descended so we moved as quickly as possible.

But those views. Breathtaking with each step.

Finally back at Blueberry Mountain, we descended via Stone House Trail, which is far less challenging than White Cairn. And has bear claw trees.

Oft visited bear-claw trees.

This one even leaning as if it still recalls the mighty forager of its beech nuts.

My guy reminded me that I needed to stop looking for other such trees because the sun was low in the sky and we still had at least a mile to hike.

At about 4:20pm we reached the old airfield by the Stone House, having saved visits to Rattlesnake Pool and Gorge for another day.

Our reason for choosing to hike on this day–because it was my birthday and so as I’d promised my sister, who knows I did not receive the family’s musical gene, I sang from the mountain top where a breeze muffled my voice as it floated across the ridges and valleys to anyone who was listening below.

Walking arm in arm back to the truck as the sun set behind the Bald Face Mountains, my guy surprised me with a favorite tune that I love to hear him sing.

I have so much to be thankful for including all of you who join me either in person or virtually and help me get lost in wonder along the way.

But I am especially thankful to my family and my guy for letting us break tradition and pardon the turkey.

Ho Hum Mondate

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021 ~ lmachayes

Today’s adventure began earlier than most because we hoped to beat the snowstorm and so over bumpy roads did we travel to an old favorite. Actually, it’s a favorite we haven’t visited in at least a year because on one approach there were so many cars parked along the roadway that we knew the trails would be crowded so we found a spot to turn around and skedaddled out of there. And with the overcrowding of trails in mind, we’ve spent a lot of time finding the those less traveled, and not always mentioning our location. But . . . finally, we returned to this one.

One of the reasons I love the winter trek is that the road upon which everyone parks from spring through fall isn’t plowed, so one must walk in. And do what I always do–check the telephone poles for bear hair.

Whether it’s the creosote on the pole, the hum of electricity riddling high above on the wires, or something new and shiny in their territory, bears are attracted and rub their backs against the object as they turn their heads to nip and bite. The jagged horizontal lines speak to the upper incisors scraping the wood as they reach toward the lower incisors. And the shiny numbers that marked the pole–all that is left is a notation in the power company’s data base.

The thing is: we always check the poles along this stretch when we hike in on the road. And we’re always rewarded for our efforts. Do note the color of the hair–bleached by the sun, a Black Bear’s hair turns ginger.

Almost a mile in we reached the starting point for our expedition as a few flurries fluttered from the sky. Much but not all of the Stone House property is conserved under an easement with Greater Lovell Land Trust.

Our plan was to continue down the road, then turn right onto the Shell Pond Trail system.

All along the road we’d noted tracks galore of mice, squirrels, hares, foxes, fishers, coyotes and weasels.

The snow was well packed, but we weren’t sure that would be the case when we turned onto the intended trail.

It was, and so having donned our micro-cleats, and carried our snowshoes, we decided to ditch the latter behind a tree. And crossing over the trail at said tree, a bobcat track, complete with a classic segmented bobcat scat. Did I mention that we almost always encounter bobcat tracks here and that we often store our snowshoes, deciding that we should be just fine without them?

At the first bridge, we paused and I hoped against hope we’d see signs of an otter. Or even the real deal.

No such luck, but there was a mink track by the edge of the water. It’s often one or the other that we expect to see here.

Ditching the snowshoes, like always proved to be a good idea as our progress was much quieter (and quicker–but then again, any hike with my guy is rather on the quick side no matter the distance). Only occasionally did we punch holes into the snow.

On a couple of occasions my post-holing was intentional for I spied woodpecker trees.

The debris below each meant the bird had spent a lot of time excavating.

And the depth of the excavations meant it must have found delightful little carpenter ants and maybe some beetles to dine upon. What do I always do when I see such a refuse pile? Examine it for scat, of course. At the first tree, I found none and worried that either the bird had gone hungry or was constipated.

I was just about to stomp back to the trail after looking about below the second tree when the pièce de résistance caught my attention. The bird wasn’t starving and didn’t have digestive issues after all.

And then there’s another tree that begs to be honored with each passing and so we always do. Today the burl gave us the feeling that we might be passing through the Jurassic period, albeit snow taking the place of lush vegetation.

At last we reached the bench, or at least the top of it, and my guy turned from Shell Pond to clean it off for lunch.

Our traditional PB&J sandwiches unwrapped, we took in the view and watched the clouds play as they danced across the mountain range.

At last we continued on in the area where Peregrin Falcons will soon nest (or so we hope) on the cliffs above, and if you follow us frequently, you may note that at first my guy doesn’t have the Curious Traveller pack on his back. Once lunch is eaten and more water consumed, he takes the pack and I tease him about it being so much lighter.

The journey took us through the old orchard . . .

across the former airstrip where the clouds parted to reveal some blue sky . . .

and past the privately-owned stone house for which the property is named.

And then, because the snow had held off for the most part, we decided to hike a short distance up the Stone House Trail to Rattlesnake Pool. Surrounded by ice and snow, it had shrunk in size, but still, it’s always worth a visit.

We climbed down and got within about six feet, but chose not to dive in. The emerald green water was enough to revive us.

Because we were there, we also needed to walk in to Rattlesnake Gorge, located south of the pool. Water gurgled in the background, but much of it travelled under the weight of snow and ice.

And when we turned, it was more of the same–a frozen world waiting for the upcoming thaw to free it.

Oh, did I mention that we stowed the backpack before heading up to the pool and gorge, giving my guy even more of a break from hauling it the rest of the way? As we returned to the airfield, the snow was just beginning to fall in earnest.

Remembering to grab our snowshoes, we finally made our way back along the road, past the lemonade stand house, and returned to the truck, completing a seven-mile journey.

We are creatures of habit, as becomes more obvious each day, and we’re thrilled to back at this perennial favorite. To top it all off, we realized that we had the entire property to ourselves today. No Ho Hums about this Mondate.

Lemonade By Shell Pond Mondate

March 9, 2020 ~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

As is the custom right now, today’s journey took us over bumpy roads and found us turning right directly across from Notch View Farm where I ventured with friends a few weeks ago. We couldn’t drive in too far, and so parked, donned our Micro-spikes for the walk in and grabbed snowshoes just in case.

I love the winter trek because it forces us to notice offerings beside the dirt road (hidden as it was beneath the snow) that we overlook when we drive in during other seasons. There’s a certain yellow house that has always intrigued us and today was no different because the snow and ice created an awning for the porch.

As I snapped photos of the overhang, my guy redirected my attention to the eaves where bald-faced hornets had created their own abode.

On more than one occasion.

That was all fine, but the real reason I love the journey is because of the telephone poles along the way. At the tip of each arrow I added is a nail. By the top one you should see a wee bit of metal, which once represented that pole’s number. Not any more.

When the metal numbers are a bit astray or downright missing, it can mean only one thing. Time to check for hair. Black bear hair.

Wads of hair greeted us today. Usually we only find a few strands. Bleached out by the sun, I had to wonder if it still told the message originally intended.

Down the entire length we saw more of it and envisioned the bear rubbing its back against the pole as a means of communication.

Sometimes they scratch and other times they turn their heads as they rub, and then bite the pole with their upper and lower incisors, thus leaving the dash and dot horizontal lines. My question remains: did the one for whom this message was intended receive it? We’ll never know, but we are always thrilled to know that Ursus americanus still roams these woods.

What woods exactly are they? We’d walked in from Route 113 to the Stone House Property, where the gate may be closed, but hikers are welcome.

Our plan was to circle around Shell Pond via the trails maintained by the US Forest Service and Chatham Trail Association.

Six hundred acres of the Stone House property is under conservation easement with the Greater Lovell Land Trust thanks to the foresight of the owners.

A few steps beyond the trailhead, we decided it was packed enough that we could stash our snowshoes and pray we’d made the right decision. While doing so, some artist’s conks showed off their beautiful display.

A few more steps and my guy did some trail work. If we can move downed trees and branches, we do. And we did several times. But all in all, the trail was in great shape.

Occasionally, seasonal streams offered mini-challenges.

We didn’t mind for they mostly required a hop or giant step. And provided us with the most pleasing of sounds–running water being such a life-giving force.

They also offered icy sculptures.

And given the fact that today’s temp eventually climbed into the 60˚s, we knew that we won’t get to enjoy them much longer.

As Shell Pond came into view, so did the cliffs where peregrine falcons will construct eyries and breed. This is perfect habitat for them, given the cliffs for nesting and perching and keeping them safe from predators, and open water below creating habitat for delicious morsels (think small birds) worth foraging.

And then a rare moment arrived, where I agreed to pose beside a bust of T-Rex, for so did my guy think the burl resembled.

And then another rare moment, when we discovered bear scat upon an icy spot in the trail. It was full of apple chunks and we knew eventually we’d reach the orchard where our friend had dined.

At long last, well, after a few miles anyway, we stopped at lunch bench, which was still rather buried. My guy cleared a spot as best he could and then he sat while I stood and we enjoyed our PB&J sandwiches. Oranges and Thin Mints rounded out the meal. (We did stop at the Stow Corner Store later in the day for an ice cream, but Moe told us she was all out for the rest of the season. We should have grabbed some other goodie but left with ice cream on our minds–a desire we never did fulfill.)

Our lunch view–the spectacular Shell Pond with the Bald Faces forming the background and a bluebird sky topped of with an almost lenticular cloud. Or was that a UFO?

Off to the right-hand side, we needed to check on the beaver lodge to see if anyone was in residence.

From our vantage point, it appeared that someone or two had come calling and there was a lot of activity between a hole in the ice and the upper part of the lodge. But, conditions didn’t allow for a closer look and as warm as it was, we didn’t feel like swimming. Well, we did. But . . .

A wee bit further and we reached Rattlesnake Brook, which feeds the pond.

It’s another of my favorite reasons for hiking the trails in the area, for I love pausing beside it to notice the many gifts it provides, which change with the seasons. Today, those gifts included the feathery winter form of an ostrich fern’s fertile fronds.

And squiggly shadows intercepted by linear reflections.

It was near there that we found rotten apples and the muted tracks of many visitors, one of whom we suspected we knew based on the scat we’d seen.

At last we reached the military airstrip built in the 1940s for training exercises during WWII. As always it was a moment when we were thrilled by the views, but also sad that our journey was coming to an end.

After remembering to snag our snowshoes from behind the tree where we’d stashed them (and gave thanks that we’d made the right decision on footwear), we followed the road back out.

Our only other wish would have been the opportunity to purchase some lemonade on this Mondate around Shell Pond that felt like a summer day. We might have even bought cookies and fish flies, given the opportunity.

Tramping with Teresa

April 20, 2018April 20, 2018 ~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

It was a sad week. It was a happy week. Both, of course, are understatements. But that’s how life is. And so today, four days after Tom Henderson, the executive director of the Greater Lovell Land Trust, passed from his human form to that of an otter, his partner Teresa and I escaped to the woods.

Like Tom, I want to be reincarnated as an otter, for they seem to have the most fun.

s1-peering in

And fun it was as Teresa and I parked near the Leach Link Trail and walked down Stone House Road for I was afraid we’d get stuck in the mud and snow. OK, so I like to have fun, but getting stuck wasn’t high on my list of “this is a blast” must dos. Maybe it’s my advanced age. 😉

Actually though, I was glad for the opportunity to walk the road, because I knew what I wanted to show Teresa. But, she discovered a few other things worth looking at first. Curiosity was the name of our game and nothing would go unexamined–much like an otter would move through the landscape. And so, at the old camp that rarely seems to see much use, we peered through the windows.

s2-peering up

And up to the eaves where another home showed its facade.

s3-pole 1

As we continued on, we played telephone. Remember that game where you sat or stood in a line and passed a message along and by the time it reached the last person, the message was totally changed and somehow quite humorous? Well, the rules were a wee bit changed today and our telephone was more like tag. In black bear tradition. All along the road, we stopped to check the poles for signs left behind like the upside down 1.

s5-pole 17

Scratches and bite marks marred the poles in a way that made our hearts beat with wonder.

s6-pole

And that hair, oh my! Who needs lions and tigers?

s7-gate

At last we reached the gate . . . and walked around it. Six hundred acres of the Stone House property is under conservation easement with the Greater Lovell Land Trust thanks to the foresight of the owners and guidance of Tom.

s9-airfield looking back toward the mtns

Onto the airfield we walked and then turned around for the view was as commanding as usual. To our right, the Stone House, built over a hundred years ago with granite quarried on the grounds. In front of us, the mountains of Evans Notch, including the Bald Faces and the Basin Rim. And immediately before us, the military airstrip built in the 1940s for training exercises during WWII.

s11-Rattlesnake Brook

Onward we continued until we reached Rattlesnake Brook and the old orchard.

s12-rattlesnake brook

The water soothed our souls.

s13-Colts Foot

And then a spot of color caught Teresa’s eye. Coltsfoot, a perennial that resembles dandelions, and is the first flower to appear in spring.

s14-colts foot

Tom would have known this, but I never trust my own information about foraging–Coltsfoot can be tossed in a salad to add an aromatic flavor, blended with honey to remedy a cough, or dried and chopped up, then mixed into pancake batter. But . . . don’t take my word for it. Tom was the chef. My best culinary creation–popcorn.

s15-false hellebore

False Hellebore or Indian Poke was our next spring ephemeral. I’ve always been drawn to its ribbed leaves, but today noticed something different–the stiff-haired growth that embraced it. Rhizomes? I’m not sure.

s15-wider open

As we walked, we paid constant attention to our foot placement for the young plants were everywhere and we knew other plants were also just emerging. And so we tiptoed.

s20-ostrich fern fertile frond

The feather-like fertile fronds of last year’s ostrich fern also drew our attention.

s16-beaver works

And beaver works that suggested a visitor in the fall of 2017.

s17-rattlesnake brook

As drawn as our eyes were to the plants at our feet, reflections in the water and life in general graced our afternoon.

s14-cliffs

We noted the cliffs above where Peregrine Falcons nest.

s22-stream

Continuing on, another stream spoke to us–its water murmuring our thoughts . . .

s23-water fall

and mirroring our memories.

s23-Shell Pond

A wee bit further, we stepped down toward Shell Pond and enjoyed the view offered.

s24-beaver lodge

Including a lodge inhabited by local residents.

s25-cherry bark

On the way back we were stopped in our tracks by a cherry tree almost totally debarked by a bark beetle.

s26-cherry bark

We both knew beaver and porcupine trees and had seen the hieroglyphics left by bark beetles before, but never had we seen such fresh work. Black cherry bark is often described as burnt potato chips and as Teresa noted, all had spilled out of the bag and lay on the ground.

s27-fork in the road

Our adventure ended at the fork in the road. When you come upon it, don’t take it 😉 But do pause.

Pausing was the name of our game today as we traversed five miles together and shared Tom moments while channeling our inner otter. Thank you, Teresa, for tramping with me. I can’t wait to do so again.

P.S. And with that, I’m proud to say, “It’s a boy!” I’m a great aunt again–to Baby Gormley who was born yesterday morning. May he develop a sense of wonder about the natural world and follow his inner otter.

Wondermyway Celebrates Third Anniversary

February 21, 2018February 21, 2018 ~ lmachayes ~ 12 Comments

Three years ago this journey began as a quiet entry into the world of blogging, of sharing my finds and questions found along the trail. And ever so slowly, you joined me to wander and wonder.

So really, today is a celebration of you, for I give thanks that you’ve continued to follow and comment and wander and wonder along, whether literally or virtually.

I absolutely love to travel the trail alone and do so often. But I also love hiking with my guy and others because my eyes are always opened to other things that I may have missed while hiking on my own.

I’m blessed with the community of naturalists with whom I’m surrounded–and this includes all of you for if you’re following along and taking the time to actually read my entries, then you share my interest and awe. And you may send me photos or I may send you photos and together we learn.

t6-cecropia cocoon

Just yesterday, while tramping in Lovell, Maine, with fellow trackers, I spotted a cocoon dangling from a beech tree. My first thought–Cecropia moth, but I contacted Anthony Underwood, a Maine Master Naturalist who has great knowledge about insects, and learned that I was wrong. He said it looked more like the cocoon of a Promethea moth. “They hang down whereas Cecropia are usually attached longitudinally,” wrote Anthony. And there you have it.

Now I just have to remember it, which is part of the reason I value my post entries. The information has been recorded and I can always plug a key word, e.g. Promethea, into the search bar and today’s blog will come up–jogging my memory.

And so, without further ado, I present to you my favorites of the past year. It’s a baker’s dozen of choices. Some months, I had difficulty narrowing the choice to one and other months there was that one that absolutely stood out. I hope you’ll agree with my selection. I also hope that you’ll continue to follow me. And if you like what you read here, that you’ll share it with your families and friends and encourage others to follow along.

February 23, 2017: Knowing Our Place

h-muddy-river-from-lodge

Holt Pond is one of my favorite hangouts in western Maine on any day, but on that particular day–it added some new notches to the layers of appreciation and understanding.

March 5, 2017: Tickling the Feet

CE 3

I don’t often write about indoor events, but while the rest of the world was out playing in the brisk wind of this late winter day, a few of us gathered inside to meet some feet.

April 22, 2017: Honoring the Earth

h-spotted sallie 2 (1)

It would have been so easy to stay home that night, curled up on the couch beside my guy while watching the Bruins play hockey. After all, it was raining, 38˚, and downright raw. But . . . the email alert went out earlier in the day and the evening block party was scheduled to begin at 7:30.

May 21, 2017: On the Rocks at Pemaquid Point

p16-fold looking toward lighthouse

Denise oriented us northeastward and helped us understand that we were standing on what is known as the Bucksport formation, a deposit of sandstone and mudstone metamorphosed into a flaky shist. And then she took us through geological history, providing a refresher on plate tectonics and the story of Maine’s creation–beginning 550 million years ago when our state was just a twinkle in the eyes of creation.

June 9, 2017: Fawning with Wonder

p-fawn 2

Though fawning is most oft used to describe someone who is over the top in the flattery department (think old school brown nose), the term is derived from the Old English fægnian, meaning “rejoice, exult, be glad.”

July 3, 2017: Book of July: Flying on the Wild Wind of Western Maine

d-skimmer, yellow legged meadowhawk, wings

My intention was good. As I sat on the porch on July 1st, I began to download dragonfly and damselfly photographs. And then the sky darkened and I moved indoors. Suddenly, and I mean suddenly, the wind came up. Torrential rain followed. And thunder and lightening. Wind circled around and first I was making sure all screens and doors were closed on one side of the wee house and then it was coming from a different direction and I had to check the other side. Trees creaked and cracked. Limbs broke. And the lightening hit close by.

August 6, 2017: B is for . . .

b-bye

Our original plan was to hike to the summit of Blueberry Mountain in Evans Notch today, following the White Cairn trail up and Stone House Trail down. But . . . so many were the cars on Stone House Road, that we decided to go with Plan B.

September 15, 2017: Poking Along Beside Stevens Brook

s22-cardinal flower

Raincoat? √

Notecards? √

Camera? √

Alanna Doughty? √

This morning I donned my raincoat, slipped my camera strap over my head, and met up with LEA’s Education Director Alanna Doughty for our reconnaissance mission along Stevens Brook in downtown Bridgton. Our plan was to refresh our memories about the mill sites long ago identified and used beside the brook.

October 5, 2017: Continued Wandering Into the World of Wonder

i-baskettail, common baskettail 1

May the answers slowly reveal themselves, while the questions never end.

November 24, 2017: Black Friday Shopping Extravaganza

b8-the main aisle

At last, I’d raided enough aisles. My cart was full to the brim and my brain overwhelmed. I guess I’m not really a “shop-til-you drop” kind of gal. It was time to wind along the trail and end my Black Friday shopping extravaganza.

December 29, 2017: Oh Baby!

s-screech owl 2

We shared about ten minutes together and it was definitely an “Oh baby!” occasion. But there was more . . .

January 21, 2018: Sunday’s Point of View

p17-Needle's Eye

We arrived home with ten minutes to spare until kickoff.

February 8, 2018: Hardly Monochromatic

p18-Stevens Brook

My world always takes on a different look following a storm and today was no different.

To all who have read thus far, thanks again for taking a trip down memory lane today and sticking with me these past three years. I sincerely hope you’ll continue to share the trail as I wander and wonder–my way.

And to wondermyway.com–Happy Third Anniversary!

Shell Pond Speed Date

January 23, 2016 ~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

While our thoughts were (and are) with our family and friends south of us along the Eastern Seaboard as you deal with a major winter storm, my guy and I drove over to Evans Notch for a hike around Shell Pond.

Whether you’ve traveled this way before or not–a summer photo might be just the dose you need today.

We parked near the trailhead for the Leach Link Trail because Stone House Road is never plowed beyond that point. Others had skied, walked and snowmobiled before us, but no one seemed to be snowshoeing so we left ours behind. As it turns out, that decision was fine. We dug some post holes in a few drifts, but other than that, we really didn’t need them. I did, however, use micro-spikes–and am glad because it’s a rather wet trail and we encountered lots of ice, much of it just a few inches below the snow.

Thanks to the owners of the Stone House for putting much of the land under conservation easement with the Greater Lovell Land Trust and for allowing all of us to travel the trails–whether around the pond or up Blueberry Mountain and beyond.

Before the airfield, we turned onto the Shell Pond Loop trail. It’s blazed in yellow and easy to follow. Some trees have come down, but we got over or around them. We took care of a few today and the rest will be cleared by summer.

Of course, some trees were intentionally harvested. We found these beaver works near the beginning of the trail where the brook opens into a small wetland.

On top of the lodge, you might be able to see the lighter color of fresh additions to the structure. This was the first of three.

Lodge number 2 is toward the far side of the pond.

But it’s lodge number 3 that I’d stay at. It’s worth a payment of a few extra saplings to get a room with that view.

The beavers aren’t the only one making changes in the landscape. Pileated woodpeckers in search of food do some amazingly shaggy work on old snags.

Winter debris covers much of the trail. Strong winds have brought much of this down.

And two of the most prominent trees make themselves known among the debris. A hemlock samara beside a yellow birch fleur de lis and a hemlock needle atop a more complete fleur de lis flower of the birch.

Shell Pond takes on an entirely different look in the winter. We could hear the ice whales singing as we ate our PB&J sandwiches and sipped hot cocoa.

While we ate, we noticed a mink had bounded through previously. I’m always thankful to have David Brown’s Trackards in my pack.

Continuing on the trail found us taking in views of the cliffs, which we don’t normally see so well once the trees leaf out.

Before continuing through the orchard, I wandered closer to the brook in search of this–the fertile fronds of the ostrich fern that give it its common name because they resemble plume-like ostrich feathers. Come spring they’ll release their spores.

The sun tried to poke out as we crossed the wind-blown airfield.

From the field, we always admire the Stone House and its setting below Blueberry Mountain.

Walking back on the road, we spotted a classic snowshoe hare print. Most of the tracks we saw were filled in by blowing snow, but these were textbook perfect.

And then . . .

And then . . . on our way back down the road, I introduced my guy to the wonders of telephone poles. We found several sporting chew marks, scratches and hair. Yup . . . bear hair. Black bear. Even the shiny numbers were destroyed on one of the poles. Of course, my guy was sure someone would come along and ask what we were doing as we inspected one pole after another. I was hoping someone would come along and ask what we were doing. Bear poles. Another thing to look for as you drive down the road–think tree bark eyes, winter weed eyes and now, bear pole eyes.

I took this photo on the Shell Pond Loop trail a year and a half ago. Oh my.

Those of you who have traveled this way with me before will be amazed to know that we finished today’s trek in just over three hours, even with the added walk down Stone House Road. Yup, not an advertised three hour tour that turns into six. Hmmm . . . Apparently it can be done–I just need to get Mr. Destinationitis to join our treks for a Shell Pond Speed Date.

Ladies’ Weekend 2015

November 22, 2015November 23, 2015 ~ lmachayes ~ 6 Comments

While it was Ladies’ Day Out here in western Maine, I drove west to Vermont, to celebrate with friends in a different manner.

Brownington, Vermont, was the destination–as three of us drove north and west to converge at a friend’s farmhouse. And then the Talk Fest began.

Yes, instead of a Shop Fest, we enjoyed a Talk Fest. Of course, unless you want to buy eggs, there’s not much shopping to be done in Brownington. That’s the beauty of it. Plus, we aren’t shoppers.

What we did do, which is also a little unusual for a ladies’ weekend, was go on a quest for my ancestral roots. (Thanks B.M.D., P.S. and B.C. for humoring me)

And at the South Cemetery in South Barton, we found what I was seeking.

Folsom 2

My greatX3 grandparents and other ancestors are buried here in a small valley below Crystal Lake (once known as Belle Pond). According to various census reports, they were farmers and I have to wonder if one of the small homes in the area belonged to them, or if there is a foundation somewhere nearby. A future hunt?

QA 10

Wildflowers growing on the hill between the cemetery and road feature an abundance of Queen Anne’s Lace. Like a spray of fireworks, the fruiting structure extends in various directions.

andrew f

Dana A F

Alonzo Dana

Finding physical evidence of those who came before made my heart sing. They were here. They worked this land. They breathed this air. They were born, grew up and carved out a living here. They were farmers who sowed their own seeds. And some of them died here.

QA 2

Queen Anne’s Lace is prolific in spreading its seeds by the wind.

Dana Folsom

They served their country and some didn’t return, like my great-great grandfather. And while my great grandmother was born here, she and my great grandfather moved to Massachusetts and then New Hampshire–I have to wonder why.

QA 8

Some seeds land nearby; others float away in the wind. I must have inherited some of g.g.’s genes.

Willoughby Cemetery

We’d spent enough time reading the headstones and appreciating the lives they represented.

WL, Haystack, Pisgah, Hor

It was time to continue our Talk Fest and take a peek at the peak’s our hostess knows so well. Haystack, Pisgah and Hor create the backdrop of Willoughby Lake.

deer print

We stumbled upon deer prints and . . .

beaver chew

beaver works. The latter forced us to look further, but we couldn’t find any evidence of a lodge or dam, just more beaver chews along the beach–perhaps they floated in from another locale.

Prospect Hill Observatory

We climbed the Prospect Hill Observatory and took in the 360˚ views. Rolling hills, farms, villages, mountains and . . .

Oh Canada

Canada. My great grandfather came from Canada–perhaps right over there. I’m not sure–I’m still trying to figure out his lineage.

horseshoe print

This print is one in a series of tracks that lead up and around the observatory. A couple of Amish families have moved into the neighborhood in the past year–a horseshoe print.

Sisters & Brenna

We left our own prints at the geographic survey mark when we posed for a selfie–photobombed by another lady–Brenna.

Brownington

The Orleans Historical Society has protected this land and the buildings you see here. Brownington is a picturesque village located along the former stage coach route that led from Canada to Boston.

stone house 2

Thirty-five years ago, when our hostess moved here for a teaching job, she earned her keep by keeping an eye on this building. Stone House sign

Local lore has it that Twilight quarried the granite blocks and erected the building on his own. He used a single ox–on a treadmill on staging–to raise the blocks and when the last stone was placed, he couldn’t figure out how to lower the beast, so he roasted it.

QA 12

It was time to go. We embraced each other and gave thanks to our hostess and host, and for our lasting friendship–as we looked ahead to next year’s gathering. Ancestors below Belle Pond, Queen Anne’s Lace, Brenna and us–a perfect combination for a Ladies’ Weekend.