Chilling on the Ice

 

When US Senator Bernie Sanders boasts of our good old Yankee hardiness on the national stage, one doesn't ask questions, you just load up your best gear and you get out there! The trouble is, it had been a lot of years since "getting out there" meant ice fishing for Wayne and I. Though our coats in my estimation, are on par with Senator Sander's, the rest of our gear looks like something out of the 90s. Truth be told, my jigging rod is actually one of our children's first fishing poles. Wayne was feeling a little outdated when we arrived at Lily pond and wasn't entirely certain that he wanted to use his heavy pry bar as an ice spud when the other guys out there had gas augers. I mentioned that my grandfather used to use one just like it and suddenly we were in business!

There wasn't really any need at all for anyone to question Wayne's methods. If anyone knows how to handle a pry bar it's Wayne who honed his mad skills by removing tree stumps with that bar and a maddox. That long red bar has an arc that Wayne put in it twenty years ago when standing on it while convincing a stump to give up. 

It takes a lot of thinking to load an ice fishing sled with such precision. Is is any wonder that I make Wayne crazy when I suggest things like we should bring the dogs too. Wayne won that argument by pointing out that it was around twenty degrees out and the dogs would get too cold.

Suddenly it was my turn to do some heavy lifting. I didn't volunteer mind you, he just handed it to me and stood back.

 

With five inches of ice, a lure at the end of my line and a five gallon bucket on which to sit upon, there was nothing left to do but take in the scenery, watch the other people fish and wait for a bite.

Fishing in the crisp (freezing really) clean air of Vernon offers one the rare opportunity to quietly contemplate the beauty of the winter season. It's either focus on that or the gradual loss of feeling in your extremities. Just when I was wondering if it had all been worth it, a rainbow cloud formed over the tree line. I know that it truly was a cloud and not just my windswept frozen eyeballs playing tricks on me, because I actually managed to tap my purple finger on the camera icon and captured it!

It's amazing really how the day just slowed right down. If it weren't for the ice popping, groaning and threatening to drop right out from under me, I might have drifted off to sleep. The Clark's house sure did look warm....

When the shadows had crept over the ice, one of the families began packing it up. Fearing that I was about to miss the social scene that so many love about fishing, I hollered over to them. "Did you catch anything?" seemed like an appropriate ice breaker. Adam said that it had been a long cold day, but they had caught three pickerel and one was sixteen inches. Knowing that some fishermen closely guard their choice of bait, I kept it vague and asked if he was using live bait. It seemed that I was beginning to gain a few social skills on the ice. To my amazement, Adam immediately offered to share some of his minnows with us which I gratefully accepted. How nice are the people of Vernon? They are Adam nice!

With live bait, Wayne decided to set his tip ups,

and Adam called it a day.

In all we spent two entire hours on the ice and the only fish we saw were bait in the bucket. 

I suppose there's always tomorrow. - Norma Manning

Special thanks to Lilli who made it possible for me to fish along side of Bernie. Is seems that Buffalo NY has a few nice people too. 

Speak From Your Heart

 I have a friend who is an artist who asked me to speak from my heart right in the middle of an online "conversation" about politics that to my mind I was clearly winning. Anyone who knows me well, understands that I am a plow when it comes to conversations and so when Lisa explained to me the rules of her topic it stopped me in my tracks like a flip flop deep in clay. Forget about my statistics?  Research, definitions, logic, resources are against the rules? Speak from the heart? How can she be serious? 

Now after a long day of pretty much standing still waiting for what was going to be next, Wayne and I were settling in for the night when of course Luna needed to go outside. When we returned, Wayne asked if anything was happening out there yet and I responded, "Oh it's happening, it's all happening out there, all of it, out there, it is surely happening." So this is what cabin fever is like. 

My brother in law Gregg just celebrated his birthday by climbing a mountain. It wasn't one of those small Putney Mountain type mountains, this was Smugglers Notch in the winter time. If you are going to climb a mountain on your 58th birthday in the winter, make sure it is one of those real mountains where skiers and snowboarders are coming at you like Atari Asteroids, then make sure to call your sister in law who was thirty minutes into a ten minute nap after work and tell her all about it. 

This was supposed to be my blog about the American eel. It such a misunderstood fascinating creature that has locally been known to make adult men who have tossed back a couple of beers while ice fishing utter the most unacceptable words and it's found right here in the Connecticut River. (I really need get out there to do some ice fishing). I won't go too much into the eel right now, but I do want to ask how it is that a female American eel can lay four million floating eggs before she dies and yet American eel populations are dwindling?* It's crazy really, more crazy than talking politics online, discussing Vermont's Act 250 with a developer, explaining a carbon tax, convincing a Capitalist of the importance of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, or seeing where I am going with all of this! 

Speak from the heart without facts? Without winning?  This is just crazy!  The American eel is an ancient fish born in the .......spends it's life ........ends up in Southern VT before it is pulled out of an ice fishing hole scaring the bejesus out of grown men.. It goes through no less than......changes before...Speak from the heart...You mean like John Denver singing about eagles?

I'm tired of comeback stories. We are all supposed to cheer and feel accomplished because we saved the Bald Eagle from extinction when we are the ones who caused their peril. Let's polish our red apples on our polyester button downed shirts because the Green Mountain ridgelines were preserved until some politician paved the way for them to be cemented over for green energy. Let's study for three years, how doing so impacted the animals that depended on what was the largest Beech stand in the state! Speak from the heart? My heart is too troubled! (It's easier to hide behind stats!) Why must profit and progress be the asteroids that our environment continually faces? When does freedom stop meaning the free will to dismantle the web of life that we all depend upon? 

And yet for a day we stopped. Perhaps because the power was out, perhaps the roads were too slick and the skies were bloppy, perhaps it was a good day to nap on the couch with the dogs. Perhaps we discovered along the way, that while we rested, others took up the challenge. We were reminded by an artist, that in order to speak from the heart we must release the crazy notion of winning and replace it with a desire for understanding. Perhaps right now, it's not all that important that Joan Norton and Gail Mouradiain mentioned me in their comments, it's 1:34am... and I'm ready to sleep. -Norma Manning

*American eel, Wikipedia

A Great Time to Hike

 Wayne and I have been determined to go hiking at least once a week this winter and staying right here in Vernon is a great option. It seems odd this late into the season, but the only time that we have used snowshoes was on the Vernon Rec trails. Even though we were all geared up, we could have managed the outing with a good pair of winter boots. The trails have recently changed course in back of the Rec due to construction in the area. Wayne and I have been trying to determine where the new configuration loops around and heads back to the Rec. We have been on the trails twice this season, and both times had to backtrack rather than follow the snowmobile trails to Newton. We will have budget more time in the future and trek in a bit further. 

It was suggested to me that a better way reach the falls at Roaring Brook Wildlife Refuge this time of year is to take that first left when the road splits. Apparently this option stays above the falls and eliminates the need to cross the brook which is currently "roaring." I'm tempted to give it a try in spite of my being nervous about hiking around icy falls. The logging road which runs past the entrance to the White trail, is currently deeply rutted. I wouldn't relish hiking too long in those conditions and am hopeful that trail to the left is in better condition. I'll most likely wear a good pair of waterproof boots, my new crampons and use hiking poles. I'll also need to plan to start in the morning so that I won't feel rushed by fading light. 

I have noticed my neighbors heading out across the field on Nordic skis towards the gentleman's farm at the end of Lily Pond road. There they are able to  pick up the snowmobile trail that comes down past the farm from Huckle Hill. This trail also crosses through the Village and back to Huckle Hill road where the ball fields are. From this point, crossing Lily Pond Rd will get you to the Rec Trails. Last Autumn, Wayne and I hiked a distance on this trail. We picked up the trail on the North side of the town forest where the forest road and the White trail meet. When you hike a right there, instead of entering Roaring Brook straight ahead, it will put you on the trail.  I'm not convinced that I would try that end of the trail on Nordic skis however as it is very steep! I suppose what I am trying to say here, is that Vernon has an interconnected trail system with enough variety to satisfy those who relish a challenge and those seeking a relaxing family stroll. Here is a link to a map of Vernon's 25 miles of snowmobile and ski trails.

It has taken me more paragraphs than I had intended to get to my favorite place to hike in Vernon and so I think that I will stop writing and just post the peaceful photographs that I took last week in the town forest where the winter light is perfectly uplifting and the air crisp- Norma Manning

Adventuring on Ice

 Wayne and I took advantage of the VT State Parks New Years Day hike event this year. On the way to Lowell Lake, I waffled between: we should be fine with day hikers to I wish that we had brought our snowshoes. There was a family headed towards the parking lot when we arrived who warned us that the trail was too icy to hike. With that, Wayne rummaged in his pack and pulled out two pairs of spikes that I didn't know we owned.  "Did you bring your bear bell too?" I later asked and of course he had. I for my part, had packed the Maine Salt Water Taffy that Kirk had given me for Christmas. One can never be too prepared after all. This time of year it's hard to know what to expect when traveling outside of your regular trails. A trail marked family friendly / easy to moderate difficulty can turn on a dime when weather is involved and I have the bruised knees this morning to prove it.

Crazy as it sounds, one morning last week, we drove past the setback on 142 and saw someone setting Tip-ups in an area that looked like it required a boat to reach it. Wayne never thinks it's a big deal for people to be on the setback in these conditions because the water isn't very deep there. I however, wasn't quite convinced that this fisherman was being safe and hoped that he had brought an extra pair of dry underwear. 

On New Year's eve, I suggested to Wayne that we walk over to Hatchery pond to check out the ice. What we found appeared to be rotten ice and I wasn't about to venture out on it. What I mean by rotten ice is that it appears white from freezing and thawing and freezing again. Of course, given a few frigid days this ice can be pretty safe to walk on if it is a minimum of four inches thick. Ice that has gone through the freeze thaw cycle also tends to vary in thickness so it's important to be aware of what you are standing on. My grandfather used to carry a long heavy ice chisel to make his fishing holes in Lake Champlain. His chisel also served to test the ice prior to walking further out on it. 

I was a Girl Scout leader for years in Hinsdale, NH and every year without fail, our scouts voted to complete two badges, camping and ice skating. In order to gain permission from council, leaders needed to first complete leader training prior to arranging for the scouts to take their own training. Ice safety training was required even if we were planning on skating at the Memorial park indoor ice rink. It was a logistics nightmare and I think that we only managed to go skating one time. I did end up taking numerous trainings in those years, none of which however, prevented me from falling through the ice at Lily pond.  

Trees and rocks and beaver lodges for that matter, are solar collectors and as a result the ice is thinner in areas around them. It's best to say clear from them. Both of these pictures are of Vernon's Hatchery pond.

Some may mistakenly believe that ice stretching across a body of water doesn't move. However, one sign that the ice is thawing or shifting is that there is open water between the shore and the ice. Wind and waves move ice as seen in the second picture above, where rings are visible on Hatchery pond. It's also important to understand that water levels rise and fall beneath the ice not only on rivers and streams, but also on ponds and lakes due to tributaries, distributaries and even hydro electric dams letting water out. I remember as a teenager, my sister wanting to get out on the broad ice, first needed to climb over a line of tall frozen waves. While she managed to get to the top of the waves, she quickly slid down the opposite side right into the frigid water on the other side! In years that there weren't frozen waves, we used to lay boards across the gap. Water moves, ice moves, water levels change and thickness varies. 

As I mentioned above I once took an unexpected trip to the bottom of Lily pond. Thank goodness I ran out of depth before getting my armpits wet! Wayne and the kids had been cross country skiing on the pond while I wandered around on foot. The five of them traversed the north side of the pond prior to my walking there and were headed away at a good clip. When I felt myself going down I screamed "hey!" By the time they looked around, I was already standing on the bottom. Nothing makes you come up with a plan quite as fast as when you are in icy water. I stretched my arms out over the ice, floated my legs up and kicked until most of me was laying on the ice. I then rolled away from the hole until I thought the ice would hold me. It was a long walk home with plenty of time for conversation about how I had scared them to death when I yelled and why had I yelled at all? Here's the thing, when planning to go on the ice, always tell someone that you are headed out, always go with a friend and always go prepared for unexpectedly going through. Why did I yell? I yelled because I wanted them to know where I went through in case I went under (I might have even been a bit scared). 

When Helen took up ice fishing in Maine, for her birthday she asked for an ice fishing chair (we used milk crates with a rope tied to it as a kid). I got her the chair, but I also included a pair of ice fishing picks. These picks thread in one jacket sleeve, across your back and out the other sleeve. Should you go through the ice, they are at hand for you to hit them against the ice which extends the metal pick. If she ever goes through in deep water, hopefully she will be able to pull herself up onto the ice.

If I had been in deeper water at Lily pond without ice picks, I may have needed the help of my family to get out. They hadn't gone through the ice because their weight was distributed across their skis while all of my weight was on my feet. Reach, throw, row, go is the order lifeguards use when rescuing a swimmer in trouble. Going into the water is always the last resort.  My family had on them, items that they could have reached with. Scarves, ski poles and skis could have been extended towards me while the rescuer is laying down on the ice; but that might have put them too close to the weakened ice and they risk falling through. Not having a rope or floatation device to throw to me or a watercraft, "go" would have been the fifth step. I say fifth step because when someone goes through the ice, the first step is always to call 911. Rapid loss of body temperature or Hypothermia not only compromises the victim's chances of survival but also threatens the would be rescuer in a matter of minutes. Having decided as a last resort to "go"  they could form a human ladder by laying down on the ice with the person at the head of the ladder extending the ski pole to me and the person furthest away prepared to pull everyone away from the hole. The bottom line is, that it's better to wait for help for one victim than to become the second victim. 

On our New Years Day Hike at Lowell lake, Wayne stepped out onto a short dock to get a better view of the lake. I walked out to join him causing the dock to send out a loud spider web of cracks through the ice before it dropped an inch. Wayne and I decided in a hurry to get off of the dock and continue on with our hike. About fifteen minutes later we saw two groups of people fishing and playing across the lake on the opposite shore. On our way home, we drove past the Retreat Meadows which was filled with skaters and fishermen and many folks who looked as if they had made the spontaneous decision to join the fun. Both of the setbacks on 142  had sportsmen, children and dogs spread out across them and when I checked the Vernon Vermont Facebook page, someone had posted how wonderful it was to see children skating on the pond. Twenty four hours earlier, I decided not to walk out onto Hatchery pond and on New Years Day the ice appeared to be safe on Lily pond. The truth is however, "Ice is never 100% safe."*

It's January 2nd and after a night of snow, with a morning of sleet and a high temperature in the low 40s, we decided to take a walk to Lily pond to check out the ice. On the way we noted that there was standing water on the farm field. It seems however, that the only one besides us checking out the ice today was a Bobcat. -Norma Manning

Resources:

* General Ice thickness guidelines, MN Department of Natural Resources 

Ice safety tips this winter season, Vermont Fish and Wildlife

The basics of ice fishing on Lake Champlain, Lake Champlain Committee 

Changing Tides

I may be known for rolling my eyes when hearing educators describe crossword puzzles, color by number, word searches, indeed any sort of puzzle, as fun work. I have always struggled with visual spatial tasks or as I describe it to those who note my thinly vailed response, "it's not my skill set." Imagine my confusion this vacation, when I realized that Wayne had gifted to me a thousand piece Audubon puzzle. It looked as though 2020 was going to end with the same sort of enthusiasm as a student faced with a double sided page of word problems. Go ahead and just close your eyes and "visualize it."

I have always subscribed to the notion of honor the gift, so when Abby and Wayne left for an errand, I began to set up my strategy for success. I had brought in the coffee table and a TV dinner table by the time they had returned. I told Wayne that I required the large folding table as well. Sorting flat edges, words, reds, blacks, oranges, greens whites, beaks, legs....It was too much for them to stand by and watch. Abby collected the border to assemble as I explained the process. Flats before color same with words I began; but Wayne was already applying his left handed, map loving, geometric logic. To make it more confusing, Abby informed me that using the picture was cheating! "Well okay then, I'm counting light pink and pale yellow as being white." Clearly I was in over my head. 

In 2020 I visited a salt marsh and attended three online presentations on salt marshes. Two were hosted by Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Wells ME and one by the Southeastern Vermont  Audubon Society. I was surprised to recognize Vernon residents in attendance at the Audubon meeting and that local Biologist Cory Ross introduced the Graduate Student presenting. Each presentation discussed the status of bird species of concern that nested in the marsh, the important role that these marshes play in cleaning polluted water, protection from storm events and flood control, how the marshes were historically impacted by agricultural use and continue to be impacted by development and climate change. It was further explained how marshes are naturally created but face increasing challenges that require intervention by Ecologists.

Salt water marsh, photo credit- Helen Manning

The programs included an opportunity to ask questions and I noticed that one particular question was asked each time. Viewers wanted to know, that since they didn't live anywhere near a salt marsh, what could they do to help? "All water flows to the ocean" seemed to be a unifying theme. It seems that our inland practices impact our rivers and streams and therefore the salt marshes' interdependent ecology with the ocean. Creating impervious surfaces increases water runoff pollution. Removing native plants and installing barriers between water and plants interferes with the natural system of absorption and water filtration. Poorly managed land delivers silt pollution to our rivers and streams, creating "dead zones" and biological imbalances. The overarching issue of climate change causing rising ocean levels is another major piece of the puzzle. This is an area where tiny states like VT are attempting to lead the way by reducing fossil fuel consumption. Like approaching any giant puzzle, there are multiple strategies required to solve it and all of them require cooperation between those defining the parameters and those working the puzzle. 

Salt water marsh, photo credit Helen Manning

Taxing rural VT's major source for winter heat and transportation to reduce consumption as you can well imagine, has sparked a good deal of "conversation." Talking about other's contributions to the problem and their need to bear the brunt of the solution seems more palatable. My mother in FL and her concern for Lake Okeechobee and the shrinking Everglades for example, is the reason that I am particular about the sugar that I buy. It seems more achievable to buy select sugar than to pay taxes on my fuel consumption. Each it seems however, is an important piece in solving the puzzle. If someone were to ask which is more important, the Everglades Snail Kite or Maine's Saltmarsh Sparrow, the answer must be, both of them.

Elevation above sea level at Everglades National Park

Yesterday our walk took us past a culvert that the town had replaced. It was replaced with the much larger culvert after heavy rains overwhelmed the previous one causing a lot of damage to nearby properties. I noticed that sometime after it was replaced, someone created a swimming hole near the outlet by constructing a small stone dam. To further complicate things, a tree fell just downstream of the dam and that too has been collecting mud and other debris. I have watched over the past couple of years, the stream erode the soil around the two dams creating a new streambed to the left of the original. Now during heavy rain events and snow melts, the stream takes two paths, one over the dams and the other around them. Why I wonder, do we now require bigger culverts than were installed in the 70s? What has changed to make it financially advantageous for our state and town to redesign and install these water pathways? How is the water that flows through them connected to restoring and protecting Maine's salt marshes?

Wayne's puzzle gift isn't just another 2020 headache to work through. As it turns out, it is a deeply meaningful segway to explaining our connectedness, our attempts at organizing what is in front of us and the value of many diverse, albeit cooperative approaches to placing each equally important piece. I have a new answer to the question of, "Why should Vermont tax fossil fuels when Connecticut consumes infinitely more than we do?" Clearly the answer to the question is Maine's salt marshes. It's also important to remember that every puzzle begins by setting the first piece-Norma Manning

New culvert in Vernon, VT

The stream found a new path around the manmade and natural dams

Resources:

Southeastern Vermont Audubon Society

Rachel Carson National Refuge