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...

 

 



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