Summer Snow

     I was having a brief "Oh no! Not again," moment. On Rt. 40 between Argyle and Greenwich I thought I saw snowbanks beside the road. But it was almost June and after last winter we didn't deserve this. Thankfully, I was mistaken. It wasn't snow but a profusion of tall, white-flowering plants that created the illusion.

     Ever the curious naturalist, I pulled over to take a closer look. We all know what curiosity did to the cat and I was about to make my second mistake of the day. I didn't have a field guide with me so I carefully examined the plants, noting the fern like leaves, the ribbed stalk, the flower clusters known as umbels. When I checked my references at home it turns out these are all characteristics of Poison Hemlock. Just ask Socrates what Hemlock can do to you.
     So here I was with no life insurance and lots of exposure to Poison Hemlock. Or maybe not. I wasn't absolutely sure of my identification and this could be Hemlock-Parsley, a non-poisonous but similar looking member of the large Parsley family that also includes the familiar Queen Anne's Lace. There are books and websites galore devoted to poisonous plants and if I survive my recent encounter I plan on reading all of them. On the other hand, if this ends up being my last post, consider my identification verified. Meanwhile, unless you're more botanically confident than I, it might be wise to avoid these plants. It isn't just the winter snowbanks that can get you.

     If you just can't get enough of summer "snow" then Black Locust trees might be your fix. All across Washington County they are dazzling in their white blossoms this week. Oddly, locust is a legume related to alfalfa, clover, beans and peanuts. Most legumes have symbiotic nitrogen-fixing bacteria in nodules on their roots resulting in increased soil fertility where they grow. The locust tree is a member of the pea family, look at its flowers now and seed pods later in the season and you'll see a resemblance to the common garden pea. The flowers, which hang in clusters called racemes, are very attractive to bees. Every locust I looked at this week was buzzing.

     The trees spread by seed and root suckers and tend to be found in groups. Locust Grove Smokehouse just south of Argyle takes its name from one such clump. I can picture other copses of Black Locust on Scotch Hill Road, Owl Kill Road, Co. 59 and Reafield Farm Road. That's just a short list from memory, they are widespread and now's an easy time to find them.

     Locust is an incredibly hard, rot-resistant wood often used for fence posts. When I was a boy over fifty years ago I helped my Dad build fence with locust posts. They're still standing and I still remember how hard it was to drive a staple in them.
     Honey Locust is a closely related tree that doesn't seem to be as common. It has delicate double multiple leaves, curly-cue seed pods and the most wicked thorns imaginable. There was a beautiful Honey Locust by the road just a mile from my farm. I often stopped to admire it, but never hugged it - not with those thorns. Then one day there was just a stump and some sawdust. I guess the road crew thought it was too close, that some drunk might run into it. I kinda hope they got pricked by its thorns. If anyone knows of a Honey Locust in Washington County I'ld love to hear about it before the highway guys do.
     Hope you get out and enjoy the locust/hemlock "snow" (from a safe distance) before it all "melts".

Touring the First Treadpool

     People watching is so endlessly fascinating because we come in such a variety of shapes, shades and sizes. It's also a little threatening to those of us (yeah, my hand is raised) who don't conform to some ideal standard of body type or style. My advice: just enjoy those around you in all their vibrant individuality and diversity. That, and become a student of geomorphology.
     That would be the science of landforms. Being aware of and trying to understand the processes that shape the earth's surface, its "look", can be every bit as engaging as focusing on the superficial appearance of some hapless person. Furthermore, those hills and valleys aren't going to feel self-conscious or inadequate. Gaze on them without guilt.
     The geomorphology surrounding the Battenkill River is a great place to begin. Its origins are where drainage from both the Green Mountains and the Taconics funnels at a steep gradient down into the Valley of Vermont. Think small streams with rapids and waterfalls. Then, below Manchester, it flows gently inclined for thirty plus miles, cutting across the trend of the mountains in a scenic gap. It's possible to float this entire stretch without a single portage. I did this years ago and dream of doing it again.
     If the headwaters are like a pitched roof and the valley section resembles a flowing nature trail, then you could think of the lower river as a staircase. From Center Falls down to the Hudson, dams form the risers and the pools behind them are the treads. Each of these "tread pools" is unique and fun to explore. In a recent post we visited the bottom of the stairs where the Battenkill joins the Hudson near Schuylerville. This time we'll step up one level to the pond above  the lower dam in Clarks Mills.
     Just north of where Co. 113 crosses the river turn onto Pulp Mill Lane. You're in the Town of Greenwich with Easton to the south. The H-V mill owns most of the land bordering the river and they've done a good job of providing access. Look for their signs and parking spots at various points. Note the houses along Pulp Mill Lane. Most have been modified somewhat but they are all basically the same. I've heard they were built by the paper mill years ago to house workers. Anyone know more about their history?

     You'll see a small pull-off in about a third of a mile or you can go a little further to where the lane stops at a gate. Either place is a good put-in. Beyond the gate is an old mill building and access to the next higher pool above the second Clarks Mills dam. Just poke around a little, read the signs and you'll figure it out.
     The first pool is small, only a mile or so in length, and can be paddled in less than an hour. You might want to do both pools in one visit by parking at the end of the lane and doing the short carry between them. Alternately, you can enjoy the lower section and its wildlife in slow motion. That's what we did on a recent late spring evening and there was nary a dull moment.
     Within a blink of launching we were watching a busy muskrat as he cruised the shoreline. Next up was a tiny green turtle (painted?) basking with just her head above water. Later we saw mid-size turtles on a floating log and were startled by a very large snapper that came up for air right next to our boat.
     Fish constantly break the surface and at one point we saw a big guy at least three feet long stir up a mud storm as he torpedoed thru the shallows. The bird life is overwhelming to someone as ornithologically challenged as myself. Expect to see ducks, geese herons kingfishers and sandpipers
near the water as well as cardinals, orioles and many others in the trees along shore.

     You can closely approach the base of the upper dam which I've heard has a tunnel thru it. There are also a series of piers that look like they may have carried a railroad at some point in the past. The shorelines are clothed in a rich variety of wetland plants, sedges and grasses, and trees and shrubs. Enough to keep any naturalist busy over multiple visits.

     After we circled the pond and were back on shore we watched a beaver out surveying his kingdom, swimming in lazy circles. I did a quick tally of the evening's sightings: mammals, birds, reptiles and fish but no amphibians. The bottom of the food chain was wisely playing hard to get. Then I noticed something move in the grass. A closer look revealed a tiny green leopard frog blending in perfectly. Be careful little buddy, it's a jungle out there.