Mondays in the Nelson Wilds: Of Otters, Mink and Bobcats

Bit of a late start this Monday, since I was at a funeral of a dear friend in the morning. But how grateful I felt to be able to get out to enjoy this beautiful day. The sky was crystal clear blue. The temperature was around 20 degrees and the wind was blowing, but thankfully, not as strongly as it had blown overnight. Our friend, Wendy, was able to join us because she had the day off for the Presidents Day holiday. It's always fun to have her along. She shares our enthusiasm for all the wonders of nature and can see the beauty in the simple elements of the natural world.

We delayed the start of our hike to admire the two sets of twin lambs born to Owen's ewes last week. The second set was born on Valentine's Day, hence the names "Valentina and Valentino". These twins are both white, so now Owen has one black lamb and 3 white. One more ewe has yet to deliver. Hopefully, next week's post will include an announcement of yet more lambs.

Al convinced us that the snow had settled enough that we didn't need snowshoes. Now, with sore legs, I am not so sure that was the right thing, at least not for me. The snow had settled some and formed a thin crust but it was still difficult to get through the 2 to 3 foot deep white stuff. The wicked "Charlie Horse" that hit me later in the evening bears out my assertion. Snowshoes would have made it easier for me, I think.

The hill behind Al and Owen's house is steep, but we were soon on the edge of Center Pond, looking out on Al's old snowshoe tracks, filled in from windy days and nights since the blizzard. It was a little easier travelling across the pond, but short lived. We passed the two beaver lodges and came upon otter tracks heading into the woods. This was not what we expected, because the inlet was just a few yards away and one would expect the otters to follow the stream. Al surmised that the otters knew a shortcut to the beaver pond above Center Pond. Turns out he was right. We followed the otter tracks straight to the Beaver Pond. It appeared that this route is a regular path for the otters as we could see tracks going both ways. We also found mink tracks beside the otter tracks, faint in the dusting of snow, but clear enough in their pattern that we knew it was mink.

When we reached the beaver pond, we found that the otters had create a hole in the snow that gave them access to the water. Around the hole, the snow was packed down from otters rolling and we found scat with fish scales in abundance. This beaver pond is also a great blue heron rookery. Al and I have been here in New Hampshire's fifth season (black fly season), and saw a great blue heron on one of the nest. Today, we were able to walk right out to the nests and see them close up. One nest sits apart from the rest and the others surround a large active beaver lodge. Al took three beaver sticks off the top of the lodge to use for Morris sticks while I took pictures of the nests and lodge, and Wendy lamented that she didn't bring her camera. We found one smaller bird's nest hanging under a heron nest, right at our eye level. Now that is one way to camouflage a nest in the middle of a wetlands-hide under a great blue heron nest.

We walked easily across the ice and shallow snow to the shore of the pond directly to another area where the otters had rolled and defecated in the snow and made about three more holes and tunnels in the snow down to the water. We also found tunnels that the minks had built as well. We looked up the hill in the direction we were headed and saw two spots where the beavers had harvested probably thirty small trees. Al considered that the Morris sticks he had collected were being returned to their beginnings, at least until he came back to collect them.

With no more otter tracks to follow, we made our way up the hill, heading for the old summer house of the Redmonds off of Center Pond Road. As we came closer to the house, we found porcupine tracks and a small hemlock that had been pretty well decimated by a porcupine. It was at our level so that we could see where the porcupines had climbed out on the branches and munched to their hearts' content. Arriving at one of the outbuildings, we discovered that someone else had preceded us to this place: snowshoe tracks in abundance. We also found a bird's nest, probably phoebe, on the top of a pale green shutter.

We didn't linger long in this beautiful spot, though I would have liked to. Wendy needed to get back to meet a friend. As we headed down the hill and into the woods, we came upon the first set of bobcat tracks for the day as well as more porcupine tracks. I wasn't convinced at first that the tracks were bobcat, but the pattern and the shape were enough for Al to feel sure, even though the tracks were filled in with snow and I couldn't see the definition of each paw print at all.

Along the way, we followed the bobcat tracks, came upon a few deer tracks, and amazingly, more otter tracks. Where these tracks were headed, we didn't have the time or the energy to find out. We trudged on, occasionally stopping to snack on cookies or cheese, and to identify trees. Wendy is taking a tree and shrub identification class at the Harris Center and it was good practice to be out in the woods using what she has learned. We also found some bear clawed trees, one likely climbed many years ago and one more recently, but not this year. We didn't see any bear nests, but that's okay. We had been blessed with a lot of great sights this day.

As we grew tired, we got a little punchy. Wendy suggested we stop correctly identifying the trees and call them whatever we wanted. So, I proclaimed one tree a palm tree. Al asked whether it was a date palm or a coconut. Wendy identified a banana tree (but are banana plants trees?) and another tree was an eucalyptus. Are you picking up the pattern here? Every tree we pretended to identify of tropical origin.

After a course correction, we soon reached Lead Mine Road, thankfully! Wendy let out a whoop of joy to be on level ground at last. Al, who had been breaking trail for most of the hike, didn't say much, though I am sure he was relieved as well. The sun had set by the time we got back to Al's house and it was long past the time which Wendy had hoped to be back. But a quick phone call bought her enough time to have a cup of cocoa with Al and me, our happy ending to almost every winter hike. Satisfying, very satisfying afternoon.