Mondays in the Nelson Wilds: From start to finish, a great day to be outside!

Most Mondays, for I don't know how many years, I have been walking around Granite Lake with my friend, Sharon Oliver. We often see ducks, loons or geese on the lake during the months when the lake is ice-free, and once in a while we have had some unusual sightings, such as turkey vultures hanging out in some trees, and otters chattering at us from near the shore. Last winter, we saw a mink cross the road in front of us and a number of years ago, we saw a juvenile moose in the woods at the corners of North and West Shore Road.

Today, we were blessed with another of those close encounters of the natural kind. Just past the Frechette's house, on the Stoddard side of the lake, I caught a glimpse of something large in my peripheral vision. I turned to look and saw a doe coming across the field in front of the Frechette's barn. The deer seemed determined to come our way. Since Bailey had not noticed the deer, I turned him toward me so that he wouldn't see it as it crossed the road just 25 yards in front of us. The deer then cut across the small patch of land between the road and the lake and walked out on the lake. We stood quietly and watched it until it had moved to the middle of the lake. We didn't see it again on our walk and wondered where it had gone, but we didn't doubt that it had successfully made the trek across the lake without falling through. We were awed by the sight of a deer so near to us.

Then, as I traveled down Murdough Hill Road to meet Al for our weekly Monday exploration, I saw four Tom turkeys cross the road near the Tarr's house. I stopped to admire their beautiful plumage. So many colors and designs. I can only assume that the female turkeys will be all a gaga with these handsome Toms. Or should I say, "a gobble-gobble?'

Al and I had decided to try our luck at following a portion of the Stoddard/ Nelson town line again today. We had a great adventure last week, tracking a bobcat through the woods, but had done little to follow the line between Route 123, near Rye Pond, to Old Stoddard Road. The distant wasn't difficult, but we get so easily side-tracked by good animal sign.

Well, it happened again. We hadn't even gotten our snowshoes on before we were waylaid by weasel tracks. Well, not really waylaid, but we forgot quickly about following the town line. The tracks were right behind my car. In fact, the best set was right under my back bumper. A good omen for the day.

We had one major obstacle to cross before we could begin our adventure in earnest: Bailey Brook. Most of the brook flowed freely and it is not a particularly narrow stream so we had to find a spot to cross where we (hopefully) wouldn't get our feet wet. Al found a snow bridge that seemed to provide a safe crossing. He went first, tamping down the snow on one side and testing the bridge to see if it would hold our weight without breaking. He made it across without too much trouble, though one of his snowshoes broke through the snow into open water. No wet feet, though. I tried to follow the same route, except to avoid the spot where his right snowshoe had broken through. No such luck--my left snowshoe went in the brook, and a little water seeped into my boot, but Al hauled me up the opposite bank before I went in any further. I am always thankful for his willingness to provide the extra support in tough spots. Sometimes I'm fine on my own, but today, I was especially grateful for his help.

With Bailey Brook behind us, we got on to the business of tracking. The snow was pretty good, with a firm crust, and a dusting of powder. Within minutes we came upon what we thought at first were red fox tracks. But as we followed them further, we became convinced that we were following a fisher. Our second muskelid (member of the weasel family) of the day. This was an exciting find for us, as we had only seen old fisher tracks so far this winter and these tracks offered up the opportunity to really follow a fisher and observe, through its tracks,some of its habits. Following the town line would have to wait for another day. Fisher tracks won't last long.

We followed the tracks into some really interesting terrain, and crossed another set of fisher tracks, smaller than the first. We paused at one point to see how many different species of trees that we could identify. We found 10 species in that one area and decided to pay specific attention to see if we could find more species while we moved through the woods. At the end of the day, we had identified sixteen species, but some of our favorite trees were noticeable absent. Here is a list of the trees that we identified: white pine, red maple, sugar maple, black cherry, hemlock, red spruce, balsam, red oak, pin cherry, ash, big toothed aspen, striped maple, yellow birch, black birch, white or paper birch, and beech. We didn't find hop hornbeam or quaking aspen, red pine or service berry, but we decided to make it a habit to pay attention to the tree species in the woods where we hike in the future. It will be interesting to see if we can find more species than sixteen in one day's hike.

We tracked the fisher to Old Stoddard Road, near the Bailey Brook Falls trail, but lost the track for a while. The fisher had traveled along the road, then headed back into the woods, just below Peter Reichel's house. Our happiness at returning to the trail was short lived however. The wind blowing across the field had filled in the tracks and they were no longer visible. We don't give up easily, though. We skirted around the cleared area and back into the woods until we came upon some fox and deer tracks. We followed the gray fox tracks until they disappeared in crusty snow under the evergreens. But more interesting terrain beckoned to us and we were off in a new direction.

A new direction which led us to fisher tracks again! This time, we also found five scent posts, spots which the fishers mark with scat and urine and rolling in the snow. It appeared that we were in a high traffic area, or at least that the fisher had gone one way and returned following the same track. Interesting! The tracks were sometimes so clear and other times we had to search in a spiraling pattern to find them again. In a grove of hemlocks, we found a large pile of scat, which we thought was porcupine, but with no other sign of porcupine--no hemlock boughs littering the ground. No porcupine tracks. But fresh deer tracks. Deer scat has so much variability to its shape and consistency based on what the deer eat, that it often masquerades as something else. But there is no mistaking the deer bed and the tracks that we found. Must be deer scat.

We also found one set of snowshoe hare tracks. What was most confusing for us was the number of times we mistook a series of "snow plops" for tracks. We wondered if we could hone our snow plop identification skills to the point where we could look at the ground and figure out the species of tree from which the snow had fallen. Wouldn't that be amazing? One particular large snow plop resembled, at least to our eyes, the ever elusive mastodon track that Al is looking for. But with only one track, the mastodon would have had to be flying. Another set of "tracks" looked like snake tracks, but turned out to be the path of a chunk of crusty snow that had rolled down the hill like a tire.

Having lost sight of the fisher tracks again, we decided to try following the town line finally. In the process, we came upon Whimsy Brook, an area that we had explored a few times before. The first time we explored here, we gave the brook its name and so shall it ever be known, at least to us. We paused at Town Line Wetlands for a snack of cheese, fruit, bread and cookies, and observed moose tracks and a fresh moose scraped tree. The snow fell gently in large flakes as we rested on a fallen tree.

Taking a compass reading and determining which way to follow the markers for the town line, we set out to return to the place where we began. On this particular day, we guessed at north many times, with a low rate of success. Following the twists and turns of a fisher is a sure fire way to loose one's bearings. Thankfully, we don't have to rely on our internal compasses. Having an actual compass at hand is so important. With relative ease, we found and followed the survey tape marking the town line and soon returned to my car. Of course, we had to cross Bailey Brook again. Al took stock of a likely spot and easily jumped the stream, while I hemmed and hawed at the crossing. If you think too long, the distance seems farther and more difficult than it is. I managed it but not without falling forward into the bank and not without Al's ready hand to pull me up. No top marks for grace for me.

We returned to the car and found the weasel tracks still clear in the thin layer of snow at the turnaround. After a meandering exploration, we were pleased to have the reminder of what began our full and interesting day in the woods of Nelson and Stoddard.

See you in the woods! Kathy and Al