Assabet River - Ice House Landing to Boon Outlet

When I launched my kayak onto the Assabet River late this morning, little did I know that I wouldn't be returning to Ice House Landing by water. The weather forecast I heard before going to work mentioned thunderstorms staying to the west of Worcester. So, in a cool drizzle I began paddling upriver with hopes of making it to Gleasondale.
At the White Pond Road bridge, I encountered a small powerboat with two U.S. Fish & Wildlife employees and just upstream from the bridge, a very vocal and recently fledged hawk was letting his parents know that he was hungry. He stayed fairly close to the large nest where he'd been born in a tall white pine tree.
Trash was very light with only a few empty beer cans and a red pillow. After passing under Sudbury Road in Stow, I heard a far-off rumble of thunder and just before reaching the outlet from Lake Boon, a second rumble convinced me that turning back would be prudent. Though I was making pretty good time going downriver, the thunderstorm was moving even faster and, near the small private airfield in Stow, a flash of lightning signaled that it was time to get off the water pronto! Once ashore, I waited 35 minutes for the storm to pass, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere. Fortunately, I had used my portage wheels when getting my boat to the launch site earlier and had stowed them below deck.
It was equally fortunate that the Assabet River Rail Trail runs parallel to the river, so the last mile or so to Ice House Landing was completed by towing my boat along the dirt roadbed. At the White Pond Road bridge, I stopped near the entrance to the Assabet River National Wildlife Refuge. This large area of land used to be known as Ordway and was a government ordnance (ammunition) depot.
My trash count for the day was 9 from the river and 3 from the rail trail. Of these, 9 were recyclable (5 redeemable) and 3 were misc. rubbish. Here they are resting up on the royal pillow...

My YTD total stands at 2511.

Sudbury River - S. Bridge to Lee's Bridge and Back

Spent the middle part of today trash patrolling the Sudbury River from the South Bridge to Lee's Bridge under yet another moody sky. The air was fairly humid and when the sun would peek out for a minute or two it would start to feel almost sultry (like maybe it was summertime or something).
Providing a dash of color to the many shades of green were these goldfinches...

Martha's Point also chipped in with some yellow and purple flowers...

Other wildlife seen today were red-winged blackbirds, blue herons, Canada geese, mallards, easter kingbirds, tree swallows, and painted turtles.
At Lee's Bridge, the smaller portal proved a close shave. Almost had to take my hat off!...

Turned around after passing under Rt 117 and, for variety's sake, headed through the larger portal to start my downstream leg.
Trash today was fairly light. Heath's Bridge contributed the most and, as usual, it was left by shore fishermen. One item was a cardboard container of "Pollo Campero" which listed several Central American countries on the label.
Brooke Island had an empty Arizona Iced Tea container placed prominently on the beach. Perhaps it was an 'offering'?
I arrived at my takeout location with 26 pieces of trash. Of these 9 were recyclable (5 redeemable) and 17 were misc. rubbish such as styrofoam containers, plastic bags, bait tubs, etc....

My YTD total stands at 2499.

Sudbury River - Rt. 27 to Heard Pond Outlet & Back

Some rare sunshine greeted those that got out on the river today. The launch at River Road was the busiest I've ever seen it. We all had heard that a brief window of nice weather was there for the taking. Once on the river, I headed upstream and soon started finding trash in the area of the Route 20 bridge project. The contractors have made good progress and it was good to see this rugged workboat standing at the ready...

After passing under the old Central Mass Railroad trestle, I scanned the western sky for building clouds and took in this view of Nobscot Hill...

As I approached the point where the river takes a hard right and a trail comes down from river left, numerous Heineken beer bottles, Slim Jim containers, and 'D' cell batteries were recovered. The area behind Wayland High School was free of trash and aside from one plastic bottle at Indian Point, there wasn't any additional trash until I had passed the outlet for Heard Pond and rounded up five more.
Shortly after turning around, I paddled through this shady grove...

At Indian Point two kings were in a minor dust up. An eastern kingbird and a belted kingfisher didn't seem to want to get along. However, just a little further downriver this pair seemed to be enjoying each other's company as well as the great view they had...

I believe it's a green-backed heron on the upper perch and a cormorant on the lower branch.

Enjoyed listening to an old Cream tune today and appreciated the lyrics as I had never before..."Tales Of Brave Ulysses"

by Eric Clapton and Martin Sharp

You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.

And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids,
And you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave Ulysses:
How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,
For the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips.

And you see a girl's brown body dancing through the turquoise,
And her footprints make you follow where the sky loves the sea.
And when your fingers find her, she drowns you in her body,
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.

The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.

Her name is Aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave Ulysses; how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.

The tiny purple fishes run lauging through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.


Also in my thoughts today was good-hearted uncle that passed away yesterday. May he have safe passage to the next stop in his journey.

Arrived back at my takeout location with 42 pieces of trash. Of these, 24 were recyclable (17 redeemable) and 18 were misc. rubbish such as a mylar balloon, plastic bags, plastic gloves, and styrofoam fast food containers. The group assembled for this photo...

My YTD total stands at 2473.

Link to Article on Nomadic Lifestyle of Native Peoples

I enjoyed reading this article by Xavier Kataquapit entitled "First Nation People are Nomads at Heart". Perhaps you will as well.

Lower Sudbury and Assabet Rivers

Rather than grow old and grey waiting for the sun to come out, I went ahead and trash patrolled the lower Sudbury River and the Assabet to Nashoba Brook in today's cloudy/drizzly conditions. It was actually kind of nice out there on the water and I saw not another soul.
After launching into the Sudbury River, I paddled the final mile down to Egg Rock and recovered 29 pieces of trash. Nearly all of it was from the area where the Reformatory Branch of the B & M Railroad once crossed the Sudbury. The source appeared to be shore fishermen based upon the bait containers, etc.
At Egg Rock I began ascending the Assabet River which, thanks to recent rains, is back to its full width and depth. Trash was slow at first but began picking up as I neared Route 2. Just before the bridge, I recovered a plastic cooler and 8 plastic bottles at one snag. I landed on the river's east side and rearranged the 67 pieces of trash now onboard. Just a little further upriver from the bridge I headed into a backwater to retrieve a bottle and came upon a doe and her very recently born fawn. The fawn, with its large white spots, is hard to see as it follows its mother into the brush...

Picked up another 15 pieces of trash between Route 2 and Nashoba Brook where I turned around.
Heading downriver I encountered this Muscovy duck...

A wood duck has it all over this guy in the looks department!
Nearing the Leaning Hemlocks, I picked up my belted kingfisher escort for the stretch to Egg Rock. I reached my takeout site on the Sudbury with a trash count of 91. Of these 56 were recyclable (44 redeemable) and 35 were miscellaneous rubbish such as styrofoam, plastic bags, monofilament fishing line etc. As they assembled for a photo, the sun made a very brief appearance (but apparently disappeared before I clicked the shutter)...

My YTD total stands at 2431.

SuAsCo to Casco and Paddling to Pedaling

Mrs. Trashpaddler had to be pleased, for what was supposed to be a Saturday of paddling the waters of Casco Bay somehow became a day of pedaling the scenic roadways of Peaks Island. The paddling events were the Race Round Peaks Island and the Race to Outer Green, events I've greatly enjoyed participating in the past and had been looking forward to this year. Then two days before the event, the event's organizers decided to cancel both as weather forecasters were predicting a good ole nor'easter. That left us with two options: stay home and lose the cost for the room we had reserved or 'play the hand dealt us' and head up to Casco Bay.
Two and a half hours later, while a steady rain fell outside, we were browsing the shelves in South Portland's Nonesuch Books before heading to the dock and the ferry to Peaks. I hit paydirt when I found The Wildest Country, Exploring Thoreau's Maine by J. Parker Huber and published by Appalachian Mountain Club Books. The book is a second edition of a book first published in 1981 and the author includes the following introduction: "This book is an invitation. It invites you to gain an appreciation of yourself, Maine, and Thoreau. It invites you to follow Thoreau's travels on foot and by canoe. It invites you to see the North Woods through the eyes of Thoreau, who, in my opinion, is still that region's interpreter extraordinary, and it asks you to compare and contrast his perceptions with yours. It invites your additions and criticisms. It invites itself to be part of your journey, to be read as you go along. It invites you to be stimulated by this world. Lastly, it invites you to conserve and cherish the land and wildlife. Though the country has changed since the mid-nineteenth century, its character remains the same for you as it did for Thoreau. It is still a frontier for the mind, heart, and spirit."
That invitation along with glimpses of fantastic photographs and maps had me leaving the bookstore quite content that I'd found a good read.
After a short ferry boat trip from Maine's largest city to one of its many islands, we were hunkered down in our room for the impending storm.
The next day we awoke to find a brightening sky and rapidly drying conditions. Quickly, we grabbed some coffee and jumped on our bikes in hopes of getting in a ride round the island before the weather could take a turn for the worse. Instead, we enjoyed a great day of bicycling all around the island that the Indians called Utowna, which is said to mean "rocky place". It doesn't get much better than pedaling along Seashore Ave while looking out over the wildroses, rocks, breaking waves and bobbing ducks, to the outer islands of Casco Bay. Late in the afternoon we witnessed the Portland Fireboat demonstrating its water cannon capabilities as part of the Peaks Island community's PeakFest celebration...

Each time I visit Casco Bay it occurs to me how similar it is to Boston Harbor and my hope is to someday see Boston's islands provide visitors similar accomodations.

Sudbury River - Rt. 27 to Pantry Brook Falls & Back

Today, after launching at River Road in Sudbury, I paddled downstream following the river's channel as it zigged and zagged through a sea of grass. Both weather conditions and water levels were ideal. Wildlife was pretty much the same gang as usual: red-winged blackbirds, a pair of wood ducks, several mallards, great blue herons, eastern kingbirds, tree swallows, painted turtles, a cormorant, a belted kingfisher, and a turkey vulture.
Approaching Shermans Bridge, I heard what always sounds like the rumble of thunder and causes me to instictively look skyward for approaching thunderheads. The thunder like sound occurs each time an automobile rumbles across the wooden bridge and is heard long before a paddler can actually see it...

Shortly, I passed under the old structure but not before catching a pleasant whiff of the creosote with which the wood is saturated.
After rounding the base of Weir Hill, I began hearing the sound of cascading water and soon pulled up the base of Pantry Brook Falls...

While it's certainly no Niagara, it still made a nice spot to stop for lunch!
The trip back upriver was into a nice breeze out of the south and it wasn't long before my boat and I were back at our starting point. Trash today had been paltry. In fact, if I walked into the Crow's Nest up in Gloucester, I'm sure that Quentin, the old timer sitting at the bar, would remind me, just as he reminded the crew of the Andrea Gail, that "it wasn't exactly a slammer!"
The count was 12 for the day. There were only 4 from the river and another 8 from the River Road launch site. Ten were recyclable (2 redeemable) and 2 were rubbish. Dunkin Donuts was well represented. Until today, I had no idea that they were the 'Official' ice coffee of the Boston Red Sox! Imagine that!...

YTD total stands at 2340.