January Thaw

A January thaw is making woods walking a little tougher this week. Kodi and I wandered around in the back woods, along the wetland edge, and into a neighbor's white pine forest. I went in my winter boots, without snowshoes. The snow is still nearly a foot deep in places and soft, so snowshoes would have kept my socks dry.

The deer trail parallels the wetland edge. We follow the same path as the deer, as did some wild canids--a fox and a coyote at least. One coyote left its scat next to a small stub of a tree.

A pair of pileated woodpeckers is working the dead and dying white pines. I don't see them, but I can tell from the piles of wood chips and sheets of bark at the base of the trees that they've been here. With their powerful bills and neck muscles they can remove large sections of bark quickly, then pick off the ants and other insects from the exposed trunk.

Fallen pieces of lichen-covered bark and tiny bits of needles and wood litter the snow-covered forest floor -- a work of art to my eyes.

A deer had scraped its antlers against a small eastern red cedar growing beneath the canopy of tall white pines. Perhaps the deer will drop its antlers soon. I must keep my eyes peeled for the drop, although I've never found one.

The snow will disappear quickly in the coming days, given the forecast for rain and temperatures well-above freezing. Let's hope a snowy winter returns after this January thaw.

Sky Creatures

Yesterday afternoon, around about 3:45, Kodi sat on top of the snow in our yard chewing on a bone. It was part of a deer leg that he found in the woods behind, a few days ago. Such findings are always big events. Our lab, Fargo, from years ago would prance around for awhile to show off any wild bone that he found. Kodi, on the other hand, dashed back to the yard and set about gnawing on the deer bone. He cracked the bone to get to the soft marrow (like suet) inside, eating bits of bone along the way.

While Kodi was engrossed with his bone, I looked up at the blue sky and watched a parade of high wispy cirrus clouds float by from west to east. I could see a porcupine and a horse, and a large creature with feathery arms and legs that morphed into a two-headed creature. What do you see?

A creature with wispy limbs and a billowing robe

morphed into a two-headed being.

The upside-down horse

and the mare's tail

An upside-down porcupine

Today the sky is a solid milky-gray paste, not a sky creature in sight. I'm ready to catch the next cloud-gazing day with blue sky and high wispy cirrus clouds. Kodi is looking for his next winter bone.

An Ideal Trail

Last year I wrote a short article called An Ideal Trail for a local land trust newsletter. As part of my research for that story, I discovered this quote by Anne Lusk, a Vermont greenways advocate:  “People are different on a path. On a town sidewalk strangers may make eye contact, but that’s all. On a path like this [Stowe, VT] they smile, say hello, and pet one another’s dogs.” 

That sums up my sentiments exactly. Why is it sometimes so awkward to pass a stranger on a sidewalk -- do you make eye contact, look away, say hi -- and yet so easy to stop and chat with strangers on a trail in the woods, especially if we both have dogs. Maybe dogs are the key! And often I meet people that I haven't seen in a long time on a trail.

Today Kodi and I walked the Doe Farm conservation area in Durham, a favorite haunt that we had not visited in a long, long time. The woods road and paths on the property are groomed for x-country skiing  by a local group and by now are well-packed by skate-skiers. Kodi loved running straight out on the wide flat surface. Part way in we met up with my friend Chris and his daughter's dog, Shadow, a 15-month golden retriever.

While Kodi and Shadow played energetically as new best friends, Chris and I caught up on happenings. He lives in the same town but we usually only run into each other on this very trail, about once a year. He was recovering from recent emergency back surgery, remarkably well, perhaps because he's kept himself in great shape for his job as an undercover law enforcement officer. He catches people smuggling contraband and fishing illegally, and such. He retires soon and he has great stories. 

Chris and I parted ways and the dogs, all smiles, reluctantly separated and followed. The Doe Farm trail winds its way down to the Lamprey River and then along an old oxbow of the river. It is along the latter stretch that we often see people ice-fishing; today there were two young men tending their tip-ups. They had chairs and a sled and buckets for bait and fish, set out on the middle of the oxbow. Kodi and I were on the trail 100 yards away up on a river terrace, but Kodi is naturally curious and trotted out to investigate their set-up.

The guys were happy to see Kodi, although Kodi wasn't sure what they were up too. He sniffed around their ice camp, perhaps smelling their fish or the bait. Once Kodi is on the scent of food he's hard to retract. One of the guys pulled out a piece of pepperoni (not sure if that was his lunch or his bait), brought it all the way over to me, enticing Kodi back to me. I went a little way farther down the trail before giving Kodi the pepperoni. As soon as he gulped it down he turned and ran back for more. He knew where that came from. Fortunately I was able to call him back this time, before he got too far. 

Another quote from my article was from Mariah Keagy, a former Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) trails crew supervisor, who said: “a well-designed trail is not noticed, but sits elegantly on the contours of the land, allowing us to enjoy everything else.” On the the Doe Farm trail we met a friend and friendly strangers, happy dogs played in the snow, and Kodi got some pepperoni. For him it was an ideal trail. Me too.

Wild Turkeys

Just as I was noting the absence of wild turkeys from our neighborhood, a flock of 15 appeared today. As I drove onto Bald Hill Road from our road, there they were, feeding along the road. In the fall, that stretch of road is covered with acorns, but I assumed the snowplows had pushed them further under the snow. Maybe the turkeys were finding some fragments of nuts, or maybe they were pecking at grit.

Since I was driving and only have the iPhone camera, the photos are what they are.

There was one big male -- with a long "beard" on his breast and some big spurs on his legs. He kept a wary eye, while the others poked around for food.

A reminder that you can report observations of winter turkey flocks to the NH Fish and Game Department by clicking here.

Cold

It's cold. Two degrees Fahrenheit at 6:00 am. Too cold to stand still. Our pre-dawn walk is brisk, and still the cold seeps through multiple layers of clothing. The cold hobbles Kodi when he tries to walk on top of the snow. He starts to crawl, pulling up one leg at a time to escape the extreme cold on his paws. On these cold, cold mornings he mostly sticks to the dry road pavement.

Otherwise, the cold doesn't bother Kodi. That doesn't prevent him from curling up on the sofa with his pillows once we're back inside. We were cold outdoors, but inside we're toasty. The wood stove is generating great warmth, as long as I keep feeding it chunks of dry, seasoned wood.

Once the temperature outside reached a comfortable 10 degrees by late morning, Kodi and I set out down the road on a trek to the Cole Farm and Piscassic Greenway, a nearby conservation area. Bald Hill Road is a beautiful stretch of road in our neighborhood, lined with stonewalls, old maples, and fields. A small flock of bluebirds added a burst of color. Sometimes, like today, we hike more than a mile on the road to reach the conservation area. Kodi likes to go that far.

Shortly after we entered the conservation area, where he can walk off leash, Kodi started sniffing beneath a huge white pine at the edge of the field. I didn't see anything at first, but then his nose led me to a pile of feathers. Surely the work of a hawk -- maybe a red-tailed, one that hunts these fields regularly. Here is the pile of feathers.

If you look close you can see that there are some pure white (wing) feathers, with the rest mostly light and dark gray. Some of the bigger feathers are slender and 7 inches or more in length. Not many native birds have pure white feathers. I'm wondering if this is the remains of a guinea hen. The neighbor to this field has a flock. I find guinea hens to be annoying noisy (I assume that is their purpose), something that a hawk would find useful! Many guineas have spotted feathers, although these feathers have no spots. So, if anyone has a different idea about the i.d. of this bird, please post a comment.

Animal tracks are much more evident with the recent snow, as are these dramatic encounters between predator and prey.

Kearsarge North

The 3,268' Kearsarge North in Intervale, New Hampshire has become one of our favorite hikes. We first climbed it last February, then again in October, and for the third time today, the last day of 2012. Our friend Kevin joined is for the 3.2-mile climb to the peak, which involves a 2,574' elevation gain -- a slow steady rise through varied habitats and terrain, offering great views.

The round trip hike takes about 5 hours. Today we used snowshoes, although the lower one-third of the trail was easily passable in bare boots as the trail was well-packed. A large red pine tree -- more than 14 inches in diameter -- had recently fallen across the trail, some time after the latest snowfall Saturday night. This was evident from the fresh sandy, soil lying on top of the snow.

As we climbed over the trunk of the red pine, we wondered about the sounds created when the tree roots were ripped out of the ground and the thud of the great trunk falling to earth, although glad that we were not around when it happened.

The trail passes through a beautiful pine and hemlock forest about mid-slope above Kearsarge Brook.

On our previous treks up this mountain, I had not noticed that many of the red pines were dead or dying farther upslope. Many stand as dead snags (the trees with the whitish trunks in the next photo), some still have bark on their lower trunks.

The trail emerges into a pine-dominated ledgy area with the first good views of the Moats and Mt. Chocorua to the southwest.

The trail then circles around to the northwest of the peak and passes through a spruce-fir forest with lots of spruce regeneration. Here is where the snowshoe hare hang out, their tracks criss-crossing the trail from one spruce thicket to another. The northwest side is shaded and cooler, with more snow cover.

At last the trail curves back around to the south for the final climb to the peak - the old fire tower beckoning the hiker to take the final steps.

It was less windy and slightly warmer (about 25F) than we expected, so we hung around on top for a bit, enjoying Kodi's exuberance. He loves to roll on the icy snow and frolic in the cold wind.

Then there was the small ice formation -- a dancing bear perhaps?

As well as the rime ice on the tower and the east-facing tower windows.

During our ascent we had blue sky and moderate winds with occasional gusts. By the time we began our descent just past noon, the clouds started to thicken. This did nothing to dampen our spirits for ending 2012 with a fine hike. And thanks to my mother and father for giving Srini a box of penuche (brown sugar fudge) for Christmas that we carried and ate all the way up the mountain. I think it's now my favorite winter trail food - soft and smooth and full of quick energy.

More Snow

Five more inches of snow fell during the night - pure white powder, adding to the nearly 10 inches of heavier snow that fell on Thursday. The snow is halfway up the garden gate, and my spinach, chard, arugula, and cilantro seedlings are now tucked under a thick blanket of snow. I look forward to uncovering them in March, when some fresh greens will be so welcome.

The fertile fronds of sensitive ferns, also half buried in snow, stand as miniature sentinels at the edge of our yard. 

Unlike some of the our other ferns, such as the wood ferns where the spores are found on the underside of the leafy frond, the sensitive fern produces its spores on a separate, fertile stalk. Each of the brownish bead-like structures on the stem contain many spores. Wild turkeys are known to feed on these fertile stalks, which are high in protein, but I think the turkeys rather prefer acorns and berries, as I've never seen them around the sensitive ferns. 

Speaking of wild turkeys, it's been several years since we've seen a flock around here. I'm not sure why their numbers seem down in our neck of the woods, as I think the statewide wild turkey population is still quite healthy. The New Hampshire Fish and Game Department invites people to submit observations of winter flocks of turkeys from January 1st to March 31st. For more information on contributing to this inventory click here.

One new bird -- for the season -- did show up at the bird feeder today: a tree sparrow. I like their rust cap and gray face, black smudge on their breast, and longish tail. Mostly I like that they visit us in winter, while spending their summers in far northern Canada. Our wintery conditions must feel like home to them.