Mohawk Trail, Cornwall

The Mohawk Trail is another of our fine blue-blazed trails maintained by CFPA. Here's a waterfall at the Music Mountain Road crossing.

The woods were just bursting with native wildflowers today. I noticed that most of the Wild Geranium in bloom had one of these insects in them. This illustrates the complex relationships between our native plants and insects. The plants aren't just sitting there looking pretty, they provide food and shelter to our native animals.

Lots of Columbine! I happen to adore the native red and yellow colors. When you see Columbine in other colors it's probably the European Columbine.

These are delicate Merrybells, a native that we also planted at Eklund Garden in Shelton.
There is clearly some deer hunting going on around here. Look how thick the woods are. It sure doesn't look like that in Fairfield County, where much of the forest has been stripped by deer. It was in this area I saw a Black-Throated Blue Warbler, a bird that needs deep forests to thrive.

Lots of Virgina Strawberry along the trail and roadways, an ancestor of the domesticated strawberry. There are records of strawberry fields maintained by Native Americans, often in old cornfields. Not clear whether they planted the strawberries or the berries just grew in on their own.

This hut along the trail made for a great resting point. Hiking on a weekday, I didn't see a single person on the trail all day.

Marsh Marigolds.

Fringed Polygala, aka Gay Wings.

Starflower

Solomon's Seal.

On another part of the Mohawk, the trail followed a high rocky ledge filled with blueberry blossoms.

And came out onto this nice view. :)

Japanese Knotweed is Quite Dead

Success! The Japanese Knotweed I injected with Round-Up last year appears to be quite dead this spring. Here's the post from last fall so you can see the "before" pictures and the J.K. Injector Tool that was used.

The Knotweed Patch was about 50 x 50 feet and 12 feet high. Now there's just a big dead spot.

Of course, it is not enough to kill an invasive species, if that is just replaced by another invasive species. Here we have Mugwort poised to take over, unless the Autumn Olive can do it first.
Although the larger-stemmed Japanese Knotweed plants have been killed, the smaller stemmed plants on the periphery could not be injected because the large injector needle splits the stem and the Round-Up just drains out. Follow-up is critical for these smaller plants, or they will take over in no time.

The Stump

Meet our friend, the rotting stump, which we were too lazy/cheap to remove from our yard. There's a story in that stump. You can see where the three main trunks were, one of which has rotted out faster than the other two. And because there were multiple trunks, that means this tree regrew from from a cut stump rather than sprouted from a seed.


This large poultry staple must be where a fence was attached to the tree when it was about ten years old. The tree grew completely over the nail.

The punky tree roots and stump are now home to a number of enormous grubs which I believe are some type of Longhorn Beetle larvae. These larvae have no legs and can only eat rotting wood.



There is a grub in Australia called the Witchetty Grub that looks very similar, and people eat them. Bon Appetit.

Webb Mountain Park Wildflowers

Webb Mountain Park in Monroe has a popular network of hiking trails as well as some rough campsites. This overlook might be the most popular attraction.


This time of year there are lots of wildflowers along the trails in bloom if you look closely. Here's my favorite, Red Trillium.

Here's some Rue Anemone.


Early Saxifrage

Common Blue Violet. The blooms and young leave are edible.

Dwarf Ginseng

Wood Anemone

Waxy Meadow Rue

Machimoodus - Land of Noises

Machimoodus State Park overlooks Salmon River Cove and the Connecticut River in Moodus, Connecticut. Mount Tom, which dominates the park, is famous for its mysterious noises, called "the Moodus Noises," which were at times attributed to Hobomock (a Native American spirit or giant), witches, carbuncles, God's wrath at the back-sliding Puritans, and exploding vapors. "Machimoodus" actually means something like "Land of Noises."

We now know the noises are caused by micro-earthquakes, and this is the most seismically active area in the entire state. The most recent was on March 23 this year. A loud bang prompted 911 calls, and emergency crews searched the neighborhoods for sign of some calamity, but geologists simply recorded a small earthquake. A nearby deep cave is thought to amplify the sound of rock snapping.

Machimoodus lived up to its name. Although I heard no rumblings or booms, I stepped out of my car to the sound of a coyote howling nearby. Later, an old car passed down the trail (not sure how it got there) then stopped right around the corner from me, and through the trees I heard a man making a horrific noise such that I thought he must be getting stabbed repeatedly with a knife. I headed into the safety of the forest lest I be attacked as a witness. The noises continued and I finally suspected the man was simply heaving really loud and probably had too much to drink. This was confirmed when peace returned to the park and I continued down the trail.

The mountain had special significance to Native Americans as the place where they could get in touch with Hobomock. According to a local resident that I ran into, an eccentric millionaire took title to the land and built a network of private carriage roads, which are now hiking trails. The road in the photo above heads up the banks of the Salmon River through a mossy hemlock ravine.

After the winter from hell, the forest is finally coming back to life. Here's some early spring Coltsfoot in bloom.

The Mourning Cloak butterfly overwinters and is one of the first butterflies of spring. His edges are frayed, but hey, he survived the winter.


My favorite moment of the day was finding this tiny Round-Lobed Hepatica growing at a scenic overlook.

After visiting the overlooks, it was a nice change of pace to walk along the shoreline of the Salmon River.


It's nice to know that the Salmon River does in fact have salmon.

At some point I noticed some big black tourmaline crystals in a boulder alongside the trail. You can tell they are tourmaline by the rounded triangle shapes. Another hiker later told me there was an old tourmaline mine up there. I had an idea of where that might be, having seen what might be smashed white rock through the trees near the overlooks, and so I went looking.

Yup, that's it, the place of tourmaline. It was everywhere. The common black variety is called Schorl. Up in Maine they find pink and watermelon tourmaline, which are used in jewelry.

But what is black tourmaline used for? In the Victorian era they made "mourning jewelry" out of it. Tourmaline is odd. Some crystals, when pressure is applied, produce an electric current, which is why it was used in detonation devices during WWII. Also, when heated, tourmaline crystals are electrified and can pick up light objects. I don't know why this particular spot was quarried, though.

Found this teeny-tiny critter under the tourmaline, probably a Red-Backed Salamander.

In 1791, an earthquake centered here was felt as far as Boston and New York and caused chimneys to topple, boulders to move, fissures to open up, and fish to jump from the water. There were dozens of aftershocks over the next few months.

It will happen again.

It isn't a groan, nor a crash, nor a roar,
But is quite as blood-curdling to hear,
and has stirred up more theories crammed with learned lore
Than you'd care to wade through in a year.
-Reginald Sperry, 1884

Mud Season Footwear

I am loving these waterproof Goretex light hikers! Much more comfortable than serious hiking boots.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

Mouse Tunnel

The melting snow exposed this mouse tunnel today. (I use the word "mouse" loosely). Wonderful weather for snowshoeing! Mice like all the snow -- it gives them lots of cover from the hawks and owls and fox.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

Snow, snow, snow

We've had about 4.5 feet of snow in the past month. No reason to stay inside, however. The roads are plowed.

I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like this in Connecticut!

The snow banks on the corners (in this case, a traffic island) are so tall you can't see over them when driving.

Here's the Shelton Lakes Rec Path where it crosses Wesley Drive. Nope, I didn't go on it. Need some really big snowshoes for that depth, and mine are on the small side.

Lots of roofs have been collapsing and leaking, so people are doing their best to clear off the snow.

Roosevelt Forest, Stratford

The Blue Trail off of Pumpkin Ground Road was well-worn by snowshoes this morning. Boots with spikes might work pretty well, but I had my light snowshoes on.

This old bridge has recently been replaced by the one I'm standing on. Good thing, I guess. The swampy area just across the bridge has turned into a deer yard, with tracks all over. In deep snow, deer will congregate in sheltered areas with food and cover.

Lots of animal sign out there. Here are some droppings next to a tunnel.

The deer pawed away the snow and oak leaves looking for acorns...

...and were successfull. Here are some bits of acorn shell up on the snow.

I turned on the red trail, which was not as packed as the blue trail. In fact, it was mostly deer tracks. Definitely needs the snowshoes there.

That's a whole lot of mouse tracks!

I turned off the Red Trail onto this deer trail in an effort to find a geocache.

Oh hey, there it is!