Christmas Trees and Memories

 

The trees in downtown Sussex can put maybe

even the Grinch in the Christmas spirit.





It is that time of year when inspiration and hope is all around us.  All you have to do is look at the face of a child as he watches the Christmas parade, or watch an elderly woman singing carols as she searches for a perfect gift.  The life in young and old seems elevated during the Christmas season and it is contagious and only the coldest of hearts is immune to the warmth.  One of the longest standing traditions of this festive season is the Christmas tree and this is "one of my favorite things."

If you have a Christmas tree in your home it is likely because your parents had one and you have strong memories and rituals attached to your tree.  Whether you decorate a real tree or the more modern fake tree you likely have that old ornament that has to be hung just right by the specific family member.  Maybe you have to enjoy a box of chocolates or some hot chocolate while decorating the tree while Christmas music plays loudly in the background.  For some it might be a loud boisterous affair with laughter while others reflectively admire the tree before putting on each decoration.  For me and my family it is a rather loud affair, filled with laughter, the smell of chocolates and hot chocolate, mixed with balsam fir needles.  The music varies from Alabama's "Thistlehair the Christmas Bear" to Madonna singing "Santa Baby" but one thing is consistent and that is that it is played a bit louder than normal.



Seth loved being able to climb up on a
chair and decorate the tree this year.



Irony on the Lawless Road



The sign showing the Lawless Road



I have been able to put some extra time in at work over the last little while so I had some time coming to me.  I have always wanted to hike up Pickwauket Mountain just outside of Hampton for sometime now and today, I made the trek up the steep slope.  Work had taken me to Hampton for the morning and so I decided that while there I would explore the area a bit.  The weather was not looking promising, mild for this time of year but calling for rain.  I crossed my fingers as I parked my car along the Lawless Road and set a course for the rocky outcrop on the southern face of Pickwauket Mountain.

It was ironic to me that I was on the Lawless Road when just a few weeks ago I started a hike off on the Law Road.  The first obstacle that I would have to overcome on this hike would be to cross Pickwauket Brook.  After a short jaunt up the stream I found a spruce tree that was stretching its limbs across the brook.  I carefully stepped across the tree and landed safely on the other side.  It was all up hill from here but it would turn out to be a great walk.

This maintained woodlot near Hampton
made you feel like you were walking into
a postcard.

There are times when I envy some landowners for what they have and for what they have maintained.  It is not enough simply to own land but I really admire those who work their land and maintain its integrity.  As I left the flood plain with its scruffy alders, thick black spruce, and white birch, I moved into a well kept pine stand.  The forest stand was not so impressive but the road that led me around to the north side of the mountain was very picturesque.  It seemed to envelop you in a blanket as I walked along.  It made it very difficult to leave the road to head for the higher slopes. 

The forest had turned to thin yellow and white birch stands with the odd spruce and pine thrown in.  The final ascent to the top of the mountain was challenging but the biggest challenge I faced was which approach to take to reveal the scenic vista over the Hampton Marsh.  I raced up the slope and stepped onto the rock precipice and took it all in. The view was amazing, even with the gray overcast day, the site line stretched a long way across the Marsh to the far hills.  I sat on the south slope for a while, because the wind was cool on the north east, but I still took time to take in the view from that angle as well.  I took notice of a stunted spruce that was growing with a majority of its roots upturned.  It was a true testament of the will of nature to see that tree growing on such a wind torn and rock hard place.

With some hesitation I left the small mountain that juts out of the landscape like a volcano on the prairies.  It was a great hike that was overdue and it set my mind right again as I start to prepare for the holiday season.



Looking down onto the Hampton Marsh from the top of Pickwauket Mtn.



Hockey (or sport) is the Building Block for Life

I can remember, not that long ago, rushing to the rink in my parents van, fully dressed in hockey gear, which my mother insisted I put on.  My father was flustered as he had rushed home from work and was running behind, hence the reason my mother insisted I put on my gear before getting to the rink.  As fast as those days went by, they still consume a great deal of my memory bank and the smell of damp hockey gloves still invokes an adrenaline rush within my aging body.

I couldn't really remember my first years of hockey.  It took an enjoyable phone call with my Mom to remind me about those first important years on skates.  Through mine and my brother's first years of hockey it was my Mom who shuttled us to the rink and tied our skates. It must have been tough for her because if I was anything like my son is now it would have been a struggle simply to get me to sit down to get my gear on.  For that I thank you Mom.  Hockey played a big part in my family's life as I grew up and early indications seem to show that that trend will continue with the next generation, and it excites me, I am Canadian after all.

After a short time of consideration I decided to become the hockey coach for my son's Initiation team, and I have realized I owe my parents another huge thanks.  It is hard work getting my son out the door and to the rink, getting him into his gear, getting my skates on, and getting the practice organized but well worth the effort.  The young kids all have fun and their parents all look on with pride and it makes the early morning and rushed afternoons worth the effort.

It is astounding how quickly the kids learn.  They are learning to play hockey much faster than I am learning how to coach it.  I still scurry around before practice in a disorganized blur, while the kids now step onto the ice comfortably.  Where once most fell in a heap shortly after stepping on the ice, they now can't wait to get going and glide off with only a slight hesitation.  We spend less time picking them up off the ice now than we do trying to get them to stop and pay attention to the next drill.

No doubt my son will only have vague memories of this part of his life when he is older, but I hope to share with him the stories of my past and his past so that we can remember together.  I don't simply remember the game, I remember the little life lessons it provided and the lasting friendships it forged.  Like in all sports, youth hockey coaches, I'm starting to realize are not just coaching a player, they are coaching the future leaders of their community. 

High Water High

The weather forecast called for a great deal of rain and I got excited.  When we get rain like this I often need to go out and inspect some of the KWRC restoration sites and see how they are doing.  After a morning meeting, Chris and I headed out, not really approriately dressed for rain especially this much rain.  We laughed at the absurdity of the rain that was coming down.  I was impressed with how well the restoration sites were handling the heavy rains. 

This small tributary beats an angry path
towards Ward's Creek

Over the last 24hours it has rained a ton and the river levels have risen dramatically.  The hydrographic station in Apohaqui is nearly floating but still kicking out readings.  I was out checking out some smaller streams but even those were an unruly, riled, brown mass, rushing over the banks towards the larger stream systems.

The longer we trudge around the sites, the wetter we got and the harder we laughed.  The best thing about the day was that, despite being November, it was very warm.  We weren't cold and wet, we were humorous and wet.  As I mentioned in my Law Road hike entry, I get foolish when wandering in the rain.  This afternoon was no different except that it was raining much harder.

Earlier this year the KWRC completed assessments on a number of culverts within the watershed and we checked on some of these as well.  One that has been worked on, as a result of some input from the KWRC, was playing music as we approached it.  Large stones were rolling through the metal pipe striking lots of different notes as they did. 

Stones and sometimes rocks were rolling out of this culvert
that carried water towards the Kennebecasis.

Just a great day.

I just gotta say, if you haven't been to Cornhill in awhile, you should go and enjoy the long stretches of farm ground, the rolling terrain, and the slow pace of the gurgling brooks.  I had a great afternoon in the field today, first planting some trees with a grade three class from Apohaqui (thanks again to Mrs. Reicker's class), and then assessing a potential project site.  When the sun is shining like it was today it makes any place uplifting, but the ridges and fields around Cornhill possess something special.  Get out there and explore a farm field near you.  Be sure to wear your hunter orange though.

I got no pics sorry but just take my word for it.

Roots with a Purpose

I have been researching a lot lately as I have been starting to prepare funding proposals at work.  I have been digging up some cool facts on trees and the role they play in nature.  I find it interesting that we seldom notice trees until fall when they provide us with a colorful canvas.  Trees are so much more than a part of the landscape, they are the fabric that holds the balance of earth in the air.  For me I often utilize trees to improve riparian areas which in turn improves watershed health.  I see daily how valuable they are to water quality and the relation they have with aquatic ecosystems. 

Fighting The Law

Meg and Chris admire the view across the
man made pond as rain lightly falls.

For some time I have had a strong desire to rise up out of my office chair and take the Law on.  All I needed was a simple reason.  It didn't even have to be a good one.  I was anxious and the frustration of being cooped up in my office or at the mulititude of meetings I seem to be taking part in recently had me a bit on the touchy side.  Finally, I had been pushed to far, and I couldn't take it anymore.  I headed out to pick a fight with the law and there was no way the law was going to win this fight. 

Ok so I'm no rebel and the law I'm referring to is the Law Road.  This short, deadend, dirt road, has always spurred my curiosity, with the deep looking ravines and steep slopes.  I was certain, as I spotted it one day while hiking the Piccadilly Mountain ridgeline, that it had some exposed slopes and thus I knew I would have to go investigate it.  I took some work time to explore the headwaters of McLeod Brook, which runs out of the steep valleys in this area, in hopes that I could form an arguement to have these waters classed as an outstanding water through New Brunswick's Water Classification Program.

The small stream that flowed from the deep
valleys where McLeod Brook began.

The weather was not great as the sky was gray and there was constant drizzle.  It was going to take more than that though to keep me and a couple of colleagues from getting out into the woods.  We pulled the truck down Law Road and pulled up to the end of the road.  The road ended near a farm house on the left with a well maintained front lot and some expansive, worn fields, leading out the back.  Between us and the front yard a small stream flowed from the hills in front of us and we were all itching to find out from where it began.



The view over the farm below from atop the rock face.



Before you could sing the tune "I fought the law and the law won" we were on our way up the stream.  In no time we were standing on the shore of a man-made pond glaring through the fog and an impressive three faced rock outcrop.  With the rock staring down on us it made it hard to take the appropriate time to enjoy the pond which had a clear bottom and a green sheen to the clear water.  We took a few pics before heading further up the ravine so we could approach the rock face from the southeast flank.  A short time later we were stopping to take off a layer of clothes as the difficult climb was causing us to heat up.

In no time we had forced ourselves up the hill and pushed through the tree line and onto the exposed west facing rock.  Before us was an grand view that provided a panoramic greater than 180 degrees.  Even with the fog and rain it was a place that you simply had to sit and enjoy.  The massive hulk of the Piccadilly Mountain was west north west and further north was the looming cranes and construction of the new PCS mine while the old mine sat in the background.  The fall colors were just starting to appear and the hardwood ridge to the south west was glowing yellow as the sun played a short game of peekaboo. 

I found my pictures this day looked better if I
focused on the smaller things.

The rock was weathered and the hill was obviously losing its battle with time.  Large cracks and slabs littered the hillside below us and we youthfully tossed stones at various targets.  It was humbling to sit there and play in this large space where time was moving slowly while at the mine site man was frantically moving to exploit our natural resources for the mighty dollar.  It donned on me that no matter how hard we work to control nature, it will never happen.  If this rock face couldn't win then we don't stand a chance. 

We sombrely left the rock escarpment and headed to the top of the ridge to circle the drainage and come down its west flank.  We walked along the edge of a large clear cut and as we did I realized that with this huge scar on the landscape the small tributary could not possibly be considered an outstanding water class.  What was even more upsetting was that the clear cut was on Crown land.  I am not trying to harp on logging companies, there was no laws being broken that I could tell, but it was, I guess an unneeded reminder of the impact we do have on the wilderness.



The moss covered rocks provided some inspiring imagery
and of course I love playing in water.



We dropped off the ridge into the main stream of this small drainage and had some lunch.  I took sometime to photograph the stream a bit and the bright green of the moss on the rocks caught my attention.  Even on the gray day the greens seemed to stand out.  Every now and then a bright red leaf would also catch my eye and I realized that on an overcast day that the small things are easier to photograph than the landscape itself.  This is likely a no brainer for a photographer, but I have never made that connection before as I have never claimed to be a photographer.

After lunch we circled the two other small tributaries and I noted the great diversity of the forest both in species and age composition.  Huge hemlocks with younger spruce and pines were the stalwart coniferous present, while yellow birch, sugar maple, young elm, and a scattering of beech made up the hardwoods.  Before I was ready we were heading down the main stream again towards the truck and I was already planning my next exploration of the Little South Branch Kennebecasis River.

View Law Road Hike in a larger map

River Clean Up has big Impact

Clean rivers and river banks are important and over 50 volunteers gathered recently in the Kennebecasis Watershed to make sure the rivers there stay clean.  Over the last three years people along this river have been gathering on the 3rd Saturday of September to clean up litter along the river.  It is a great way to get involved in an environmental project and it is a relatively simple activity to take part.  People of all ages worked with the Kennebecasis Watershed Restoration Committee for this event and all had a great day and left feeling rewarded.

Everyone there aided in cleaning up a bit more than 6km of stream and removing 1300kgs of trash and litter.  Illegal dump sites provided a good portion of the trash that was collected.  The impact of this 1/2 day event is not just a local one.  When you keep trash out of a river you also keep it out of the ocean and that is a global impact.

Next time you see a piece of litter make a global difference and take the time to pick it up.  Waste management services now a days make it easy to get rid of your trash with little effort.  Most waste doesn't need to even go to a landfill because technology is making it possible to recycle so many different things. 

Thanks to all those who came out and helped out and made a great global difference.

Simply Fall

The view from Friar's Nose During a Late Fall Hike in 2009.

Simple Fall Offerings

"Time flies" they often say.  It seems like just yesterday that summer started and today my son went to school for the first time.  School starting up, the "Atlantic International Balloon Fiesta," the end of fishing season, and the upcoming "Sussex Fish and Game: Hunting and Fishing Expo" are sure signs that fall is flying in fast.  I don't know of anyone who complains about the fall season.  It simply offers so much that is so simple.

Fall is that time when we can step back and take a small breather after numerous hectic summer getaways or projects.  It is that time when we can slow down before we hectically prepare and anticipate the long days of winter and the joyous holiday season. One exception might be a farmer, but even they are rewarded for their hard work in fall when they harvest their crops. 

For me the fall season is best seen from ridge tops where you can sit and look out over a large expanse of colorful, ever changing, tree tops.  A cool, crisp, breeze blowing across an exposed ridge is relaxing and I can't help but sit and ponder life and my next journey.  Some of these ridges are easy to get to, while others are a challenge, but all of them possess a rewarding, simple feeling of fall.  You can easily find a seat to slouch down in and write a song while geese fly by over head, as might happen at Aiton's Hill.

For a great many of us, we enjoy challenging ourselves while reaching a destination.  The ridge along the north side of Route 111 between Upperton and Hillsdale, rewards the adventurous types with a great view of the Hammond River valley and the Saddleback Range as they change from green hues to yellows, oranges, and reds.  The challenge is finding your way to the small rocky outcrops along this ridge.

If you wish to find something a bit easier to reach maybe a drive along the Gibbon Mountain Road is more your thing.  This drive is a photographer's thrill as it provides far reaching vistas and smaller charming scenery for those artistic types who love finding different angles.  As you drive the ridges of Keirstead Mountain you can strain your eyes on a clear day and still not see where the horizon meets the sky.  A map maker with sharp skills could likely map all the hills to the southeast past Poley Mountain.

Speaking of Poley Mountain, the ridge on the opposite side of Trout Creek, offers a wonderful challenge that rewards the participant with great views of the mixed forests of the Upper Trout Creek.  This is a great location for hikers to stretch their legs before the winter season slows down their wandering.  It is a great place to simply pray for a winter filled with more rewards, or to be thankful for this great place we live in.

"See you in the woods or on the water."

Camp Story

Fishing season is coming to an end very shortly so I thought maybe I should post one more blog about fishing.  It has been a long tradition in my family do visit what was once my grandfather's camp and spend a weekend fishing.  The camp now belongs to my uncle, and since my grandfather's time, things have changed quite a bit.  One thing that hasn't changed though is the fun we have when we go there.  The camp has expanded from a one room shack with tar papered exterior to a two bedroom, steel roofed, getaway.  The woodlot has matured and the road in is in much greater shape.  Likely the biggest change though is the people who are now coming in with us.  This was my son's first time in and he now makes the fourth generation to be visiting the camp.

The road into the camp after a late snow storm in May.  The weight of
the wet snow bent the hardwoods well over the road.

Every time we go into the camp I can't help but read the journal that everyone is encouraged to sign.  I have written in the journal a number of times and it was great to remember those times. 

One memory that sticks out was a weekend my brother and I were to take a Scout Troop.  It was a weekend in May and we were hoping to take the Scouts on an early season fishing trip.  As it turned out there was a severe snow storm that weekend and the roads were in bad shape.  As responsible leaders my brother and I had to cancel the camping trip.  He and I though headed in and spent a night anyways, just he and I and the heavy, melting snow.  It was a simple but memorable night.

For this more recent trip there was no snow but plenty more memories.  The plan was to arrive Saturday afternoon and do some fishing.  My son and I packed a cooler, some sleeping bags, and some fishing gear into the truck.  He was excited to go but was playing it cool and was behaving very grown up.  My wife was having a hard time as this was to be his first overnight camping trip with the "guys."  She had tears in her eyes as we pulled out the driveway, but I'm certain they were tears of pride.  We had lunch at the camp and then my Dad, brother, his two boys, my son, and I headed to find some water to wet a line in.

Seth spent more time exploring than he did fishing.

We settled on South Branch Miller Brook and at first it didn't look promising.  We had split up and four of us fished upstream and two fished downstream.  My son and I wandered upstream and from time to time dropped a line in the water with no luck for the first 20 or 30minutes, not even a nibble.  My father and one of the other boys were up ahead of us and I knew our luck was about to change when I heard them clamoring with excitement.  Shortly there after we were catching lots of fish.  My son was more interested in simply playing along the shore and exploring mud holes and climbing alders, but he was having fun and when  I would hook one, he'd come running screaming "I wanna reel it in! I wanna reel it in!" It was fun just watching him walk along in front of me.  He kept humming a song and talking to himself. 

That evening we sat up and taught the kids how to play a couple of card games.  We let them stay up late and eat cookies as a bedtime snack knowing that they had played hard enough that day that once their heads hit the pillow they would be asleep.  I know that I don't remember hitting the pillow.

The weekend was about the beginning of new memories and starting new traditions at the "Ol' Camp."  It was a great weekend and we left a journal entry so that we remember it whenever we go back.

Sitting on the step at the camp we posed for a timed portrait.