Hike a Right Before Rifle Season

With little more than a month until blaze orange season and not many seventy degree days ahead of us, Wayne and I decided to hit the town trail with the plan to take a right onto a state land trail which is also a VAST trail.  We have taken the gravel road that starts at the town forest trailhead on Basin road many times. This road goes past Haskin's Overlook and continues on as the White Trail Loop. We have continued straight several times where the White Loop bears left. Straight ahead leads to state lands and recent logging activity. It's easy to get lost after the "Trail Ends" sign, so if you choose to go in this way, go in prepared for this eventuality.  

I think that Wayne and I have had enough of getting lost for the season and so we decided that we would take the right just before arriving at the "trail ends" sign and head right into the Sweet Fern and the Goldenrod that has gone to seed. 

I was hoping to find a clue as to whether or not the Roaring Brook Wildlife Refuge continues to the right of the Vernon town forest without cheating and referencing a map. As a matter of fact, yes I do drive Wayne crazy. 

At the spot if we were to go straight through the sign there is posted a vast arrow pointing to the right with a gas symbol below it. Neither Wayne nor I have the faintest clue as to where there is gas available in Vernon. 

                

                                                                          Sweet Fern

The road began wide and easy enough to travel on. In spots it drops several feet below the shoulders giving hints of being older and well traveled. Areas can still be seen where it has been wet as the ruts are deep and the trail has been widened by those trying to get around them. Today however there wasn't a drop of water to be found.

The VAST trail blazes are blue heading away from the town forest and green returning to it. We also noted state land markers on the trees. 

The land has been managed and is a mix of impressive old growth and new growth trees. I hoped to see some wildlife attracted to the mixed growth; but a few birds and Coyote scat are all that we noted. 

                    I often fall in love with trees on the trail and this big red oak was no exception!

     I found it odd that these trees fell in all directions. I suppose we can call it a split decision?

                                        

                                            The trail begins to get rocky on the decline

                                                          Take this sign seriously!

A check of Google Maps shows us to be paralleling Huckle Hill road around VT Woods Studio. We decided to go down the steep decline as the map shows a stream near the bottom. 

                                                          Mountains in the distance.

As I age I find myself increasingly admiring people who can go downhill without feeling the need to gauge the effort required to go back up. Wayne has introduced me to a great strategy for return trips however; pick a point up the hill and announce, "We will take a break there." Setting goals and rewards is ever more helpful than waiting until you become blinded by salty sweat before resting. 

Photographing changes or confusing spots in the trail is helpful for the return trip. We came down on the trail to the left. I turned around to take the picture from the return perspective. I also periodically text pictures and comments to my children alerting them to our location. As experienced hikers learn to understand, anyone can get easily confused on even the best marked trails.

An hour since we left the white trail and with no water in the streambed, we decided to backtrack towards home. Wayne and I will definitely take this trail again on a day when we can start earlier. I would be interested in hearing from readers who have traveled this trail in the winter months. I would like to know where it intersects with a Vernon town road. 

This short hike to the right has me questioning where exactly wildlife gets their drinking water during drought conditions. As we drove back down Huckle Hill, we kept an eye out hoping to catch a glimpse of the stream we noted on Google Maps at the bottom of the hill we hiked. We drove past Vermont Woods Studio and down to Pond Rd only seeing dry streambeds. Perhaps in times like these, it would be kind if residents to set water out on their property for wildlife.

-Norma Manning

Paying Attention to The Long Timers

Author's note: I began writing this piece on the drought at Lily Pond prior to hurricane Delta coming ashore in Louisiana just six weeks after hurricane Laura. Also in this time, 60 Minutes aired the cited piece on Climate Science. 

 I love listening carefully to the long timers as they carry with them observations that they have compiled over the decades. On many topics they can be in my estimation, the citizen scientists and historians that fill in the gaps of reports made by impartial  professionals. Important gaps like how people felt, what they as individuals personally experienced within the context of the broader subject. For me, the long timers bring science to the kitchen table. 

What's it like after a major hurricane? It's like the constant smell of pine sap and grilled chicken. It's chainsaws, blue tarps, radio silence and camping indoors for more than a month without water and electric. Most importantly, it's like perfect strangers from all over the country behaving as if they have been your backyard neighbors for twenty years. But also, it's like all the trees are broken matchsticks, the National Guard keeping you from your home while at the same time protecting it. It's friends suddenly without houses and pets roaming with no place to go. It's islands sliced in half by the ocean and shrimp boats stacked up like kids toys in the corner. It's two hours to travel ten minutes through unrecognizable neighborhoods. It's 31 years of panic attacks every time I hear that tone of voice from a mayor, meteorologist or reporter come across the airwaves. 

So it was that my ears perked up when my friend mentioned, "My dad always said that it takes one foot of snow to make up for an inch of rain." Cheryl then followed with, "I think we are ten inches low on rain this year". Translation? We would need ten foot of snow to get back on track and out of this drought. I don't have the need to fact check Cheryl or Cheryl's dad. He knew during his lifetime what he had experienced. For my part, I have seen it rain hard after drought conditions and still not see the stream in my neighborhood start to flow again.  I was around during Irene when southern VT communities were devastated by flooding; while we here in Vernon barely experienced a run of the mill storm. It's hard to make sense of that. Even so, that doesn't mean that the aftermath had no impact on Vernon residents. 

Many residents have been keeping an eye on Lily pond. Will Lily pond, which has evaporated to little more than a mud flat this summer, recover in time for whatever next summer brings? The Old Farmers Almanac predicts that, "Snow lovers should be very excited."* I would love to believe that the Almanac is at least as accurate as the wooly bear caterpillar; and here's the thing, I believe in science (I really do); but science is hard to understand. For example, I searched NOAA's online winter forecast** and I couldn't even find mention of Vermont, just a bunch of maps with one showing "E.C' for New England. My take away for my effort is that NOAA believes that temperatures will be higher than normal this winter with New England being in the equal chances zone.  E.C. means that odds of average, above average, or below average precipitation is about the same. I'm sure that all those other maps somehow come into play; but I'll be darned if I know how.  Can we conclude that Lily pond has an equal chance to recover as to not?

The pond has always recovered in the past so why should this time be any different? When do the old timers run out of memories of the year the pond was dryer? What if Lily pond's drying up is the "new normal?" What if something has been changing and our pond is trying to tell us? What if there were something that we could do to tip the scales in the pond's (and the wildlife that depends on it) favor? That's a lot of questions!

My mother in law Janice, always tells us that she was born in the hurricane of 1938. The Great New England Hurricane of 82 years ago has been described as a once in a lifetime storm. This year, the news has been filled with on par extreme regional events. We have become familiar with and better at predicting and dealing with monster events and because of it, countless lives have been spared. The events are piling up however, not only directly impacting the lives in the path of the events; but also the financial stability of our nation. Death Valley experienced the highest recorded temperature on earth. L.A. reached 120 degrees.  Four percent of California has burned (it was so hot that rain dried up before it hit the ground) and the southern US has been hit by twice the number of storms than in a typical season.*** 

Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge (ME), Biologists have noted that with tidal waters rising in salt marshes, Salt Marsh Sparrow's (a species of concern) nests are being flooded further endangering their chances for survival. These birds are indicators as to the health of the marshes. Why is this important? Coastal salt water marshes are defenders against storm events.**** Imagine if a hurricane like the one in 1938 comes ashore again; but this time saltwater marshes, barrier islands, and other natural defenses have been weakened do to rising sea levels and development. 

In 1988 NASA scientists James Hansen's paper on carbon and climate, stated accurately to the year, the fire, drought, heat, and hurricane events of 2020. I remember when there was considerable debate among scientists whether or not Global Warming / Climate Change was happening and if  human activities were causing it. In 2020 scientists have reached a consensus on Climate Change, it's real, it's getting late and there is still time to reverse it. Geophysicist Michael Mann in a 60 Minutes interview  was asked if this is the new normal, he replied, "New normal is the best case scenario..."*** He also explained that the planet naturally should have cooled over the last half century; but has instead increased a little less than two degrees Fahrenheit. This interview is a must watch as it explains to regular people like you and me, the science in easy to understand language. 

Michael Mann confirms that "Warming can be stopped. Oceans and forests would begin to absorb excess carbon in a matter of years...It becomes too late if you get to the point that you cannot stop the ice sheet disintegration" ***

I believe in paying close attention to scientists and to the long timers, one tells us what is happening and the other puts it in a context of human experience.-Norma Manning

Resources:

* The Old Farmer's Almanac, Winter of 2021

** NOAA'S 2020-2021 Winter Forecast 

*** The Climate Science Behind This Year's Wildfires and Powerful Storms, 60 Minutes

**** Live From the Marsh With Salt Marsh Sparrow, Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge

                                                         A barefoot print in Lily Pond 

          

                 Taken about 3 feet in from the Oct. water level looking towards the canoe launch

                                                    Looking south near the low water mark

                                                               Overview looking south

                                    Near the north end of the pond looking along the west bank

Indian Woman Tribe Unknown

 "Home is where your story begins" is one of two signs we have hanging in our house. The other sign claims it to be, "Just Another Day In Paradise." I've always struggled with the idea of home and so I often read the first as more of a philosophy than an affirmation. (The second sign I hung for Wayne)  I  continually ask myself when encountering new to me places, "Why are people here? What is it that brought them to this place?"  This may sound odd to most until you learn that I grew up in the military. My home growing up was where my family was and with those familiar items that we were able to lug around the country with us. Other than that, home was VT because that is where we returned each summer to visit gravestones and relatives.

 With a few alterations, my mother hung the same curtains in her kitchen at each house that we lived in. Later when we were helping mom to downsize I came across a pair of curtains and mentioned how I remembered them. It was then that she confided to me that story and how it was her way of creating a feeling of familiarity in new places. I did the same with paint colors and flooring when we jumped the river to live in Vernon. It was only recently that I changed the wall color from pink to an updated Sherwin Williams palette to many comments of "what took you so long?" Apparently home is not a paint color. But for me, neither is it where I was born and our adult children no longer live here. Maybe it could be said that for me,  home is where my current dogs sleep and where the best dog ever is buried. 

We are fast approaching Indigenous Peoples Day and with it the colors are making Vernon more inviting than ever. We were on our way to Market 32 in hopes of scoring apple pie fixings when I asked Wayne to pull into Indian Point. I walked back and forth the length of the land trying to understand the meaning of it. The Vernon Historians as of late have been documenting parcels of historical significance in town and I suppose that was playing a role in my questionings. When wandering about up top didn't satisfy my curiosity, I managed to descend the steep bank without tumbling (making a scene). My journey abruptly ended as the river is separated from the point by railroad tracks.

Meanwhile, Wayne who remained up top, had noticed two markers and as I was ready to hop back in the car with a few pictures of foliage to show for our visit, he pointed them out. 

I often need to take breaks while writing as I become bogged down with emotionally attached details. As we walked towards the rec discussing my writing, Wayne reminded me of the story about when Indian remains were discovered in Bellows Falls. We have heard from more than a few people that a burial place had been disturbed during the days of their paper mill industry. Bellows Falls actually does have many artifacts from Indigenous Peoples including petroglyphs so the story seemed plausible. Folklore would have it, that those discovered bones were placed in storefront windows in town as some sort of novelty. 

The marker at Indian Point in Vernon is in memoriam of "Indian Woman Tribe Unknown CA. 1650. Reinterred Nov. 5, 1994." What is she doing here? What brought her to this place? Who are her people? Was this land her home or was she hear for some other purpose? I was having trouble connecting the importance of this narrow strip to her people. 

A day later while reflecting on my pictures, it dawned on me that the woman didn't live here. She instead lived in a time when the river flowed freely and didn't cover the land as it does now. There wasn't a state road between her and the hills on the other side, nor was there a railroad track in her path to the river. Her home didn't have a stone foundation anchoring it into Vernon dirt. She wasn't on her way to Market 32 because she gathered from the land what she needed. Present day geo political borders and survey stakes had no meaning for her. While I strained to see over a fence and between saplings to take photographs of NH across from the point, she would have been traveling through old growth forest. Our modern constructs and our barriers to the water and land would make this place unrecognizable to her. Would her descendants, if they were to live in Vernon, be able to find the places their dead are resting? Where are the rest of her people's historical markers? Maybe they are the Black Gum Trees in the town forest or the cold brooks that flow into the mighty Connecticut, or the hawks that look down on the earth  from the heavens. But maybe, just maybe they are the hills of the Green Mountains that so many Vermonters now call home.

"Their (Abenaki) connection to the land as indigenous people is an integral and foundational aspect of this place..."*  I've always struggled with "home." Perhaps my younger brother Charles isn't too far off when he says, "The woods are my church." And when my mother tells me that two things are important, "Family and God." she too has found her home. For Wayne and I, perhaps home is our family, in our connection to each other, and the time we spend discovering all that life has to offer here in Vernon.  -Norma Manning

*Native American Past in Brattleboro, Brattleboro Historical Society; reprinted by The Brattleboro Reformer.

Every Leaf at Lily Pond

 We took a day trip up to South Hero to visit family yesterday. The colors along 91 and 89 on a clear morning have peaked and I think have caught most leaf peepers from away off guard. I say this because on this foliage weekend, the roads don't seem like an amusement park ride with sudden slow downs and death defying swerves. I love traveling on the interstate for the same reasons that I love looking over farm fields or standing in a clearing atop a hill. Having lived in places where we looked out over oceans, valleys, mountains and wide open spaces, it took some readjustment to settle back down among the trees in the CT River Valley. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that I am so fond of looking out over Lily Pond here in Vernon and standing recess duty at the school where I can look across the farm field towards the town hall and beyond to the hills. 

I noticed that the geese are starting to move in the Champlain Valley and expect their travels will lead them here soon, if not for the shorter days than because the lake is so low that land has emerged from the cover of lake waters. The egrets, ducks, cormorants, and geese are congregated in the shallows, swimming among dozens of duck blinds and when we arrived at my mother's, her suitcase was open on her couch with her house plants in bags waiting for me to bring them to my house until May. Wayne hoisted  a huge pumpkin from the trunk and set it in her front garden and upon seeing it mom said, "When I leave I will give it to Claire." Once again I am out of sync with those that are unsettled this time of year.

My sister and brother in law had escaped to the Northeast Kingdom in the morning for a hike and in the afternoon showed us that the docks were out as they reviewed with us the many projects they had completed and those still ahead of them before they too travel south. I find myself conflicted, envious of their summers at my "grandparent's camp" on the lake, and yet relieved that we don't have the constant work and activity that living on a lake entails. 

In one sense, my family up north is living on an interstate where things are exciting and loaded with open opportunities; but in another, it doesn't escape me that they spend a day each week hiking and biking in slower parts of the state in order to get away from their responsibilities. Perhaps Wayne and I are much to settled for where we are in life. With our children spread out from Maine, to New York to California, it would make sense after Wayne retires, to hit the open road; and yet for now, our plans are to walk the trails in the town forest. A wise man once explained to me, that he had grown up on a farm in Vernon, went away to college and started his family only to realize that everything that he was working so hard for was back on that Vernon farm. I guess that it suits some to race up the interstate where the fall colors are a blur and others like myself are content to examine each colored leaf as we meander past. -Norma Manning