Naugatuck State Forest: The Quiet Side

We went in search of a DEP official letterbox at Naugatuck State Forest. This is the section west of Route 8 where there are no marked hiking trails. Last fall I abandoned my search for the box when I found myself surrounded by gun fire coming from all directions as well as a couple of game wardens as dusk approached. It's apparently an insanely popular place to hunt. So if it's hunting season, go on Sunday. Seriously.

I like state forests. They're managed and therefore healthier for wildlife than most state parks, land trust properties, and even some exclusive "Wildlife Habitats" maintained by groups like Audubon (the ones where I can't go with my dog). A hands-off approach in a suburban forest, which some well-meaning people equate with being natural and therefore better, typically leads to low biodiversity and all sorts of problems for our plants and wildlife. I wish people would get that.

There is, of course, deer hunting, and while I don't much care for hiking while armed men are hiding in the trees, I do like seeing the results: food and shelter for wildlife. State forests are also logged, which creates these open brushy areas (above) filled with lots and lots food and shelter.

These numbered trees for a forest study are another sign of a managed forest. Lots of saplings were shading out the forest floor, but Sarsaparilla thrived.

Bristly Aster was growing along the gravel road. I associate this plant with the ridges of Sleeping Giant State Park, where it grows rather magically in bare rock.

Here's some Indian Cucumber Root, wilted from the drought, and changing color already.

After finding the letterbox, we walked further down the gravel road and came upon a pond held back by this berm covered in goldenrod.

The pond was mostly lily pads. Didn't see any sign of fish, but there were lots and lots of frogs.

The Goldenrod was spectacular. I don't often say that.

This Yellow Bear caterpillar was eating Milkweed.

The Many-flowered Asters were just opening up. These are pretty common. They're also called Heath Asters because their leaves look like needles, as do many heath plants. But there is another aster also called Heath Aster, so that can be confusing. Note how each little stem coming off of the main stem is just covered in a line of flower buds. That's very distinctive for the asters.

Joe-Pye Weed and Boneset added their color to the Asters and Goldenrods on the berm.

This tree growing right in the water is a Black Gum or Tupelo tree. I prefer to call it a Tupelo, and that dredges up a Van Morrison song in my mind every time I see it (the older folks will know what I'm talking about). It doesn't look terribly healthy with its leaves already turning red.

We enjoyed our quiet little walk. No other hikers or bikers, although we did note some ATV tracks (not legal). There aren't any trail maps that I know of.

Arcadia Forest, Rhode Island

There are miles and miles of old roads and trails running through the massive 14,000 acres of Arcadia Wildlife Management Area in Exeter, Rhode Island. That's a BIG park: about ten times bigger than Sleeping Giant State Park, and about ninety times larger than Indian Well State Park here in Shelton.


The relatively flat sandy areas are covered with pines, scrubby oaks, and blueberries, reminding me of the sandy forests of northern Wisconsin (above). The glacial outwash sands in both Rhode Island and Wisconsin are responsible for the similar appearance and vegetation.

The sand dries up quickly, so plants must be adapted to drought, especially up on Bald Hill (Really? That was a hill?). Not many species can tolerate the dry conditions, so there is not much diversity, and most of the woods are rather open, often covered with a low layer of heaths such as Huckleberry, or pine seedlings.

Arcadia is crossed with miles and miles of sandy roads and unmarked trails, along with a few trails that are actually blazed for hiking. Arcadia Trail (above) is one of the few that has been blazed. The trail maps at the park are nearly useless, since there is a labyrinth of unmarked trails and it can be difficult to know where you are on the map. This is one place a gps receiver comes in really handy. So I naturally lost mine towards the beginning. It's still out there somewhere. The best map I've found online is here. You need to download it and crop to the area you want to explore.

The park was not at all crowded. Over the coarse of seven hours of hiking on a Friday, I passed one hiker walking her dogs, one mountain biker, and two groups on horseback. That's it. The forest is a management area, so there is hunting and possibly logging, and dogs need to be leashed during bird nesting season. I'm sure the healthy forest is due in no small part to the fact that the forest is managed. Over the many miles I hiked, I saw only native species. How refreshing! I can't remember the last time that happened.

Browning Mill Pond in the center of the park is an attraction. The ponds again remind me of northern Wisconsin, a pothole region, although these ponds are actually reservoirs.

This Indian Cucumber Root was growing near the pond.

East of Arcadia Road is a handicapped-accessible boardwalk that just goes on and on. The forest changes to a more typical Connecticut-type forest as the subsurface reverts to bedrock instead of sand.

The boardwalk leads to some picnic alcoves along another pond.

Heading off-trail for a bit, I came upon yet another grid-like series of rock piles on a ridge. Some people think these ridge-top piles were placed by Native Americans for spiritual ceremonies. Others think they were put there by farmers, either White or Native. Since I only find the piles on ridge tops where I would not expect the best farmland to be, I tend towards the first explanation.

Community Garden Scenes

No rain from Hurricane Earl, so I grab some shots before picking my tomatoes and squash. Update: Preregistration forms are available here (or pick one up at City Hall).

Late Season Monarch Caterpillars

Here's a Monarch Caterpillar found recently in a hayfield off of Long Hill Road in Shelton. The Butterfly Weed is blooming late because it was cut along with the hay awhile back, and the entire plant had to regrow. Cut hayfields are the only place I ever see late season Monarch Caterpillars, so I assume this is because the Milkweed and Butterfly Weed are young and tender.

This begs the question: What did Monarch Caterpillars do before people began haying? The butterflies have multiple generations each season, migrating north in spring and south in the fall. In the spring they are looking for newly sprouting Milkweed (Butterfly Weed is in the Milkweed family). In the fall, Milkweed is generally tough and lower in nutrition, so cut hayfields provide a great source of young plants. Perhaps in the old days it was burned-over areas.

The caterpillars you see now should be the final generation for the season. After they change into a butterfly, they will fly south to Mexico for the winter. This little caterpillar has quite a journey ahead of him!

Sikorsky Bridge Bike Path, Stratford

Now for something really different: This bike path goes right along the Merritt Parkway on the Sikorsky Bridge over the Housatonic River. It's neither peaceful nor quiet, and you're quite exposed to the elements, including sun and wind. But the views are totally unique.



Park at Ryder's Landing in Stratford, at the corner of Route 110 and Ryder's Lane, immediately south of the Merritt Parkway Exit 53. If you see a big fake lighthouse, you're in the right spot. Crossing over Ryder's Lane (a quiet road), you'll immediately see the asphalt bike path, and very shortly a new interpretive sign installed by HVA with a grant from Sikorsky's.

The path curves under the Sikorsky Bridge, and the racket of the cars above contrasts with the peaceful river below.

After passing under the bridge, the path curves around, and a left takes you up on top of the bridge with a view of the river.


The Sikorsky factory where they make aircraft like the Black Hawk helicopter is right down below. Not too much activity down on the tarmac today, but at other times you can see them testing out the big helicopters.

The river is beautiful. I saw an Osprey flying above the bridge today, and about a year ago I saw a Bald Eagle perched in a tree right over the bike path at the river's edge.

The path continues gradually uphill to Wheelers Farm Road in Milford, where it simply ends after a total length of maybe a mile or mile and a half. If you're biking, you get to coast all the way back. The path was put in when the bridge was redone a couple years ago, but most people are just finding out about it now.

Exposed Cascades Bed, Sleeping Giant

It's dry. Very dry. The brook that normally cascades down the north side of Sleeping Giant to Tuttle Road along the Red Circle Trail was bone dry in many places, marked only by a line of moss. Above is the Gorge.



This was a waterfall last April. Seeing the exposed bed of the stream was interesting, though.

Here was a hole formed by water that you normally would never know is there. Water goes in the top and out the bottom.


Here's another hole formed by water, looking down the river bed.

The bedrock type change as you go up the hill. First there is the very soft red-brown shale. You don't see much of it because it's so soft and erodable.


Further up, there is lots of conglomerate, which looks like concrete. It's just another sedimentary rock, but with assorted sized grains including some gravel. It's a reflection of the fast erosion that took place when Connecticut almost became the Atlantic Ocean during the Triassic. We had all sorts of crazy things going on: Earthquakes, volcanoes, dinosaurs... the east side of the state was getting pulled away from the west side, opening up huge fissures where vast amounts of lava spilled into the CT Valley. And then it all just stopped and the Atlantic opened up further east.

Further up the brook, you hit that Triassic magma, all broken up, and very, very hard.


Picking up a rock in the stream bed, I found several little salamanders taking refuge, as well as a flattened out Green Frog.

There were a few pools remaining. A tiny juvenile salamander is just visible. I believe it's a Yellow Spotted Salamander.

Trail Markings

I'm a nitpick about trail markings. I'll admit it. I paint the City blazes in Shelton, so I'm a critic. I want to be able to easily follow the trail, but I don't want the forest defaced with ugly markings.

The worst case is, of course, when they don't use any markings at all when there are multiple trails. Good luck with that.


Next comes the trail that are at least marked, but with spray paint. I often find this at small local land trusts which don't have enough volunteer help, don't realize there is a right way to do it, and let a well-intentioned Scout loose with a can of paint. The picture above, though, is at a state park. Go figure.

Next are the metal or plastic markers that are nailed on. They usually look nicer than spray paint. Some are small and not too obtrusive, although larger ones, in my opinion, just don't look very attractive in the forest compared to proper blazes. They protrude from the trees. They don't blend in enough. They don't "belong." Yes, they are much easier to apply and save time in the short run. In the long run, though, they are also very easy to tamper with. People can pull them off and put them back on in the wrong spot. Arrows present an additional problem, as illustrated above. The blue and white trails are diverging in a "Y", but I found the arrows both pointing towards the ground and would have missed my blue turnoff if I wasn't paying very close attention.

Any idiot can turn the arrows, and so I did. This is the direction they should have been pointing.

In contrast, this triple diverging trail point at Sleeping Giant State Park cannot easily be tampered with. Red diamond and the blue trails go right; lavender trail goes left. No confusion except amongst people who haven't learned the basics on how to read trail blazes (If you are one of those: The upper blaze indicates the direction of the turn. There. Now you can follow any blazed trail system).


The Connecticut Forest and Parks Association sets a wonderful example. Their blazes are easy to see, but don't hit you over the head, and seem to belong in the forest. They have a set standard so that blazes are consistent throughout Connecticut even though they are painted by many different volunteers. Blazes are to be 2x6", a certain shade of blue that shows up well at dusk or in fog (photo above), a certain brand of paint, BRUSHED on. This is very time consuming, but the results are worth it.

The above blaze is an example of how CFPA used to mark side trails. They now have the secondary color at the end of the blaze so they don't have to wait for the first color to dry. When the blazes grow too wide from tree growth, they are resized with a dark brown spray paint. Basically, with 825 miles to blaze, they've got it all figured out.

The blue blaze is readily visible if you're looking for it. Otherwise you might not even notice it.


Sleeping Giant has so many trails, they've had to be creative. They have red, blue, violet, orange, green, yellow and probably some other colors I've forgot, as well as different shapes for five red trails (square, triangle, circle, diamond, and hex). There's a black square with a white horseshoe for a bridle trail, and this black square with an "X" (or swords or whatever they are). And not a single sign, but you don't need signs if you have a map.

Signs are stolen pretty quickly, and can also clutter up a park with "sign pollution." Tarywile Park in Danbury has waymarkers throughout the park. The number "2" above corresponds with a "2" on the map. These are great if you have several points where the red and yellow trail come together, for example, and you're not sure which intersection you're at. Of course that does assume you came prepared and brought a map.

In Shelton, that inspired us to create and install some of our own waymarkers.


Here's another form of waymarker at Trout Brook Valley. These are very helpful in identifying one's location, although this particular waymarker is not as rustic and "quiet" as I prefer.