Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Three Wishes on the Merrimack

 

Some summerlike weather returned recently for an encore performance allowing for several enjoyable paddles on local waterways such as the Assabet, and Concord rivers.  However it was my paddle this past Monday morning on the Merrimack River that was the most special.  As the above picture shows clouds were just beginning to break as I paddled away from Southwell Park in North Chelmsford a little before 7 am.  Sticking close to the shore brought this cluster of blue wildflowers in view...

Nearby a blue heron achieved perfect balance on one leg...


As I approached the Rourke Bridge...

...I thought wouldn't it be great if a freight train made its passage along the river...and shortly such a train's horn alerted me to one approaching from the west.  A short wait resulted in witnessing this PanAm Railways locomotive 7534 pass under the bridge...

...pulling a long string of 80 plus cars en route to Portland ME.

Having my first wish granted I turned about and began heading upriver with a sweet summer-breeze at my back.

Passed this river-clean-up project vessel seen at rest along the river's east side...

Seems a well setup craft for retrieving all manner of trash from the river.

Proceeding further upriver I took the nearly mile-long Wickasee Canal...
...passing just east of its namesake island and noting the sign...
...which all visitors see before crossing the bridge to the island.

At the Tyngsborough Bridge some welding-work was being done on the west side...

With the workers on an aerial lift stationed close to the railroad tracks I figured any chance of seeing the Nashua local freight was slim to none...but soon the sound of a train's horn alerted me to PanAm Railways locomotive 503 bringing 20 or so freight cars down from Nashua...

They were doing about 10 mph as they passed Sullivan's Ice Cream.  The tracks are quite close to the river in places...

So now I was two for two in wishes granted.  Dare I expect a third...and then while passing between Wannalancet's grave site and his most favorite place, Wickasee Island, a bald eagle flew above the island and perched in one of its tallest white pines...
Three for three, with the eagle providing the cherry on top.

Then a balloon was found saying Happy Birthday to someone...

The Assabet River in Stow contributed some early fall foliage...
...and the majesty of mute swans in flight...
...and this mini explosion of blossoms...
 

Some days trash was on the light side...
...


...and other days not so much...

...

Sort of like the good, the bad, and the ugly....like what we witnessed last night on our televisions.
 





  

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Covid Summer Closeout

Decided to closeout the last full week of our Covid summer with some camping and paddling in, where else, but my home state of Massachusetts; any thoughts of trips to Maine or other New England states had long ago been shelved due to travel restrictions.  For this trip I'd operate from a base camp at a KOA in Westhampton and take a closer look at Pioneer Valley waterways previously paddled. 

On the drive westward, at about the halfway point, I exited the Mass Pike in Sturbridge and shortly found myself at an incredibly quiet and peaceful Lake Siog in Holland, MA.  Perhaps it was a combination of the haze from the Pacific Northwest forest fires and it being a weekday late morning, but I don't think a more peaceful place could've been found to kick off my trip.  Holland is on the cusp of the Pioneer Valley and seems to identify more with the "Last Green Valley" of the Quinebaug River...

A pair of bald eagles were seen over the Siog's south end.  I paddled out of the small lake's north end and entered the Quinebaug River proper...

Around the first bend was an old bridge...

...leading to an island of sorts.  The bridge is said to be located close to where a 33-year old scout, Ephraim Curtis, in 1675 crossed the river on horseback from right to left while delivering a message from Massachusetts Bay Colony's Governor Leverett to the more than 200 Nipmuck sachems and warriors assembled there. Leverett hoped to persuade the Nipmucks to remain neutral during King Philip's War which had recently commenced.  Neither Gov. Leverett nor Curtis knew the "ship had already sailed" and both sides played a game of how much did the other know?  Curtis was lucky in being allowed to leave...in one piece.  His subsequent report to Gov. Leverett is one of my favorite first-hand accounts of a historical event.  This present-day trail marker may be close to the very spot where the dustup occurred...

A few hours later I was back on the turnpike and making my way to a waiting tent site at KOA.  It was the first time in awhile I'd pitched my tent on a pea-stone pad and it was worth every extra penny.

Launched the next morning from a foggy Oxbow Boat Launch on the Connecticut River in Easthampton...

Before paddling under Route 5 and the railroad bridge I headed into the Oxbow with plans to ascend a bit of the Manhan River which was quiet and peaceful in its own right...

My ascent of the Manhan was eventually stopped by one too many fallen trees.  White-tailed deer were plentiful such as this fawn...
...and this couple?...
Quite a difference in the coats, with the older deer already wearing their darker winter coats while the fawn seems a little late in the season to still be wearing spots.

Back on the Oxbow I ventured further in to where Mount Holyoke loomed in the distance...

Out on the Connecticut River's main stem, enough protection from a gusty southwest wind was provided by Mount Tom...
...allowing me access to the section between Smith Ferry to the south and Mitch's Island to the north.
Another sign of the times was this homeless person's camp site located in one of the more isolated spots...

With the forest fire haze holding firm most of the day's color came from wildflowers like these...

The following day started again with river fog at the Cow Bridge Brook launch in Hatfield...

After exploring the rock ledges in this smaller oxbow I headed upriver towards Sunderland and the looming Mount Sugarloaf known to Native Americans as "Wequomps"...

A small islet in the middle of the river sported a tent and Tiki-lights...

Hugging the west shore while paddling upriver brought me past an area in Whately where a considerable amount of plastic seemed to be oozing from the base of the riverbank...
...perhaps the site of a former dump.  Just a little bit further along a small glass jug brought me closer to shore where this bottle of  Pain-Expeller by F.A.d Richter and Co. was seen partially exposed in the clay...

Looks like it cures most everything and measures 6" x 2" x 1".  It likely dates to the late 1800s or early 1900s.  Note the rubber stopper is still in place.

This day was the warmest of my trip and really had the full feel of summer.

Awoke the next morning to a cool northerly breeze.  Broke camp and decided to take the slow route home instead of the Mass Pike.  After crossing the Route 9 bridge between Northampton and Hadley I came across this mural on the side of a building...
...which provided inspiration for getting in another paddle on the way home.  Once reaching the area of the Quabbin Reservoir I headed for the Swift River Boat Launch in Belchertown.  Paddling downriver...
...I encountered a group of ducks being pursued by this immature bald eagle...

A belted kingfisher actually stayed still long enough for a photo...

After about 2.5 miles I reached the dam and falls at Bondsville (a village in Palmer)...

The falls from below the dam...

A closer look at the crystal-clear water which originated in Quabbin's deep basin...

Despite our present drought conditions the discharge from Quabbin to the Swift River is maintained to a certain flowage according to terms dating to the reservoirs creation back in the 1930s.  

On the last section of my homeward drive on Route 32 I passed this covered bridge spanning the Ware River in Gilbertville (village in Hardwick)...

 Note the mere trickle of water in the Ware River compared to the Swift's guaranteed amount. 

Adios Covid Summer and I sure hope you're a one and done.

Trash wasn't too bad and ran the gamut...

  

  Two interesting finds were this plastic bag with 11 Styrofoam cups...
...and this beer can logo that inspires rail travel...
...or at least a shoutout to rail-riding Shoestring the hobo.



  

   

Saturday, September 12, 2020

Quid Quo Quin

It'd been awhile since I'd last paddled the waters of Lake Quinsigamond in Worcester and Shrewsbury, MA.  Figured that by waiting until after Labor Day I'd find a quieter Quinsigamond...and I did.  Launched close to sunrise on Tuesday from the Leo R. Corazzini ramp in Shrewsbury near the lake's northern end.  Other early risers were quietly gliding upon the lake in sleek rowing shells between the 290 and Rt. 9 bridges...



Was a little surprised to also encounter two power boats each leading an accomplished water-skier up and down the lake as early as 7:30 am.

A bald eagle watched over Drake Island...

At the lake's south end I entered Flint Pond and followed it to a small dam at the pond's outlet.  After a short portage, I found myself in the Quinsigamond River and looking back towards Flint Pond...

The water dropping over the dam will travel via the Quinsigamond River to the Blackstone River and ultimately Narragansett Bay

The Quinsigamond River is small and short...

My foray down the river ended abruptly at the stone arch bridge carrying CSXT and MBTA trains...

The arch receives additional support from a configuration of iron and steel.

Turned around at the bridge and headed back to the lake's north end on a fast-warming summer's day.  Wigwam Hill loomed over the Route 9 bridge...

  

Yesterday, while staying closer to home, I paddled some of the Sudbury and Concord rivers through the area known to Native Americans as Musketaquid...


The weather had changed considerably and a cool breeze out of the north brought with it the feel of fall.

The South Bridge Boat House was staged and ready for action...


The Egg Rock inscription sat high and dry despite the previous day's rainfall...

...at a quiet confluence...


Nearby this heron enjoyed an uncrowded beach...


This buck didn't seem aware his 9-point antlers gave away his location...


Trash included a wayward balloon cluster with only one still inflated...

...and this head-scratcher on an island where someone crushed their beer cans before tucking them in a nook beneath a sign kindly asking that trash be "carry out"...


Trash found on Quinsigamond...

...and on the Musketaquid...


With yesterday being the second Friday in September, and having the feel of fall, I was reminded that John and Henry Thoreau returned to their home port of Concord on just such a Friday back in 1839.  Upon their awakening that morning Thoreau noted in A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers "We had gone to bed in summer, and we awoke in autumn; for summer passes into autumn in some unimaginable point of time, like the turning of a leaf."

They also had a breeze from the north which helped them along; "We had made about fifty miles this day with sail and oar, and now, far in the evening, our boat was grating against bulrushes of its native port, and its keel recognized the Concord mud,..."

A visit to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord found this fitting marker in the Thoreau family plot...