May Long Weekend Wandering Style: All Over

I usually write to convey the activities in my life.  This weekend I documented a fair bit using my camera.  I got some great shots and I have been practicing my video editing skills so I thought I would try it here.  I hope this works.  Check out the Whalen's Wanderings weekend below. This is a great start to the summer I think.

First Spring Fly Fish

On a fly tied by Art Marr in Sussex Corner I caught this beautiful 16" brook trout.

Speckled trout are an incredibly beautiful sport fish.  They have colorful spots, sleek lines, and a cool sport stripe on their pectoral fins.  When you pursue the speckled trout you chase poetry in motion.  The right light, the right water level, the right fly, and the right presentation at exactly the right place.  The poetry when understood is relaxing and soothing, even when you can't finish the poem.

Tonight I was lucky.  I got to finish the poem.  I have to be honest, I haven't read much poetry from the book of spring fly fishing but I thought I'd try it any way.  The warm evening had no flies, although I did have a couple land on my bare arm.     I had no ideas really what type of fly to fish.  I had asked around and some anglers with more experience than I had told me that muddlers and nymphs usually work for early season trout.

I had some nymphs and a couple of different color muddlers in my arsenal and so I decided to try Trout Creek.  I usually prefer fishing in back country areas but on this night I fished in the urban core.  My time was limited so I didn't want to drive that far to get to a hole.  I wasn't expecting to catch much anyways so I didn't think it would matter.  I first tied on a black and yellow nymph and cast it a few dozen times before I lost it when I struck it off a high gravel bar and I'm assuming broke the knot  at that time.  Next I tied on a mottled colored nymph.  I cast it for likely 20 minutes or so.  My confidence in my ability was waning with every cast.  Am I presenting it right?  Is this a good color for these conditions?  Are there any fish there to start with?  This is where fishing becomes more challenging.  You have to trust your skills and instincts.

The urban setting lead people to the shore who wanted to check on how I was making out and I humbly relayed to them my lack of experience.  A couple of fellas even stopped nearby to clean off their fiddleheads.  I was thinking maybe I should have went picking with them instead of throwing a fly all night.  The social setting made the night a bit more enjoyable though and I enjoyed the intermittent talks with friends and strangers.  It kept me at it, as I didn't want to be seen as a quitter or simply a fair weather angler.

Once again I changed flies going to a dark muddler and after about 30 casts on it with no action I thought it might be a bit to dark for the water and light conditions.  I shifted over to a green and brown muddler and then the action started.  It hardly hit the water the first time and a small trout rose to it but I was a bit quick and missed him.  I moved down stream to where a deep run entered into a pool.  I cast and floated all over the run before moving to the top of it.  From the top of the run I was casting across the stream and letting the fly move downstream to the back of the pool where it floated across the stream.  I then stripped it back up stream slowly.  I did this three times and on the fourth I hooked a nice trout, approximately 11" in length.

I moved out of the area for a bit casting across another pool where I had no luck.  I then moved back to the run and fished the pool again.  This time I hooked another fish and at first I thought he ran my line around a branch because it felt heavy and he didn't move from the bottom on my first light tug.  He then ran downstream a ways and then I realized, he wasn't caught up, he was a big fish.  I settled myself in waist deep water and picked my exit point where I could land my catch.  I kept the line taut and lightly wrestled my adversary to submission.

I had let my earlier trout go and decided that this big catch would be a great meal.  A part of me also wanted to keep it so I had proof that I had caught such a nice fish.  When I measured it, it stretched the tape 16" and was likely greater than 2lbs. I was giddy when I landed her and couldn't believe how my night had gone from just okay to incredibly great. That is part of the poetry in angling, the way in which your mood changes, or your perception of things is altered with every line.  It is so rewarding just being there but more so when the line stretches tight.  Tight lines to all you anglers out there...here is to a great 2014 season.

If you Paddle It In...Paddle It Out

The water is crystal clear as the front of the canoe moves out into the main channel.  You and your paddling partner are grinning from ear to ear as the current takes its first tug on your floating haven.  The sun is shining bright and warm on the back of your right shoulder as you dip your paddle for that first hard stroke.  Almost instantly the canoe picks up a significant amount of speed and it creates a breeze on your face and causes your hair to blow behind you.  The best part about that breeze is that it keeps the flies away.

The river winds lazily between ribbons of silver maples which keep you shaded when the noon time sun and the rowing heat your body beyond your comfort level.  Some of the maples bare scars, high up their trunks from where ice scoured against them during the spring freshet.  If you were to stand in your canoe, the scars would still be well out of reach and you struggle to comprehend the amount of water that must of flowed through the area during the regular flooding.

Your stomach growls and you are brought briefly back to reality when you remember your lunch cooler sitting in the middle of the canoe.  You scan down river and spot a gravel bar on the inside of a turn less than a hundred meters away.  From the stern position you point the bow toward the gravel bar and instantly your buddy grins approval, without even saying a word, he knows where you're heading.

The gravel bar is warm and relaxing as you lazily chew on your sandwich.  The flies however, have made an appearance, and you become slightly irritated.  You quickly guzzle the soda you had lugged with you and hastily shove the last piece of granola bar into your mouth.  As you leave you drop the soda can into a bush and the granola wrapper blows into the current but since you're irritated you decide to leave them. 

You continue down the river and you start to notice a great deal of litter along the shoreline.  Now you feel a bit guilty about your contribution to the problem.  Plastic grocery bags hang in the shrubs along the shore like prayer flags, while pop bottles sit like old small ship wrecks on the bottom of the river.  You notice oil jugs sitting amongst some chokecherry bushes and feel ashamed.  Thankfully, a big, bright tailed, bald eagle flies over head and you once again start to note the amazing gifts mother nature offers.

There are many lakes and rivers in New Brunswick and many people take the time to enjoy them.  Unfortunately many people also take time to litter and blemish Mother Nature's beauty.  If you are out enjoying the rivers this summer be sure to take out the trash you might bring in.  Those little cuts add up and it can have an impact on how others perceive our great province and its waterways.  If you have time maybe you can even pick up some of the litter you see.  Most rivers flow to the ocean not to the water treatment plant, and the ocean is not a toilet that easily flushes.

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Cheers

Ben Whalen
http://www.whalenswanderings.com

Growing with the Flow

Communities come together in times of need and I have seen our community grow immensely in a short period, or maybe more accurately my appreciation of our community grew even more.  This past week has been challenging for many and many are likely still facing challenges in the days to come.  Through these challenges I have witnessed some amazing scenes.  The sights would restore even the most down trodden view on humanity.

I want to share with you a couple of the highlights I saw while trying to do my part.  I want to brag about the community we all call home and provide reasons why we should all be proud.

The first scene was a mother wading through knee high water to get her three kids off the school bus.  She then carried them, one by one, to dry ground.  Traffic waited, in water, while she made the three trips.  The maternal care she showed and the relief she demonstrated as she placed the last child on dry ground moved me and allowed me to push harder through my day.

Firemen are a special breed and we have some of the best volunteer firefighters around right here in our community.  In a time of high stress and continual action, a couple of them calmly aided seniors onto a bus as they evacuated the Lions Villa.  Each fireman was able to smile and infuse a sense of humor to reduce the stress in the entire situation.  As the bus stopped to drop off a couple of the seniors on board, the firemen piggybacked them to dry ground and again humor made the situation more bearable.  I was again left feeling blessed in the midst of chaos.

With homes fully surrounded by water, I could see neighbors gathered on small pieces of dry land, talking and even laughing with one another.  The sound of running pumps and generators prevented me from hearing the laughter but their facial expressions indicated that it was forced simply to help them keep their sanity.  They were leaning on each other as they sat scanning the floating debris and tangled pipes amongst their subdivision.  Their ability to face such a tough situation with a brave face made me realize how small some of my day to day problems really are.

Kids always seem to have a positive attitude and as our future that is a great thing.  As parents struggled with trying to minimize the damage to their homes, I watched kids playing obliviously to the ramifications of what was going on around them.  The link between youth and innocence was driven home as the kids splashed in a puddle at the end of his driveway.

Maybe the biggest testament to how strong our community truly is was how often I saw friends helping friends.  On a normal day, a household would sit lifeless as the home owners went quietly about their day.  Over this week this same home has 4 or more people milling about trying to put it back together.  Some of the people are family members while others are neighbors who are slightly better off.  This happened instantly and likely without even a call.

Witnessing all this made me incredibly proud to call this community home.  I wish every one a smooth road to recovery and can’t wait to see how we grow as we come through this.

Jamming Ice

The ice is finally moving out of the rivers and I'm lucky enough to get paid to watch it move.  Have you ever watched ice flows move down a river.  It is a bit of a humbling experience.  We have all likely seen a flooded river carrying debris down stream in a rushing torrent and that in itself is very impressive.  Ice flows move differently.  There is a slow motion effect to the movement and the torrent is hidden under the ice cover.  The biggest indication of the power of the ice is the sounds being created.  The loud pops, cracks, and crunches are signs that the river is powerfully tearing apart large ice sheets and moving debris downstream.  I took a short video recently and thought I'd share it here.  I'm no photographer and by an even farther stretch, no videographer but it still shows the power of nature.

This jam didn't result in any damage and I have seen bigger jams but I felt safe enough next to this one that I could take the video.  Things can change quickly in a jam and where one minute there was water flowing through a hole, the next it is clogged with ice, and then water backs up and a head is created.  If you are observing ice flows do so with caution and preferably from a distance.

Just as a note on the video, what caught my attention first was the fact that there was a tire floating on an ice sheet.  I observed the flow for about 15 minutes and the tire remained on the ice for the entire time.  No doubt it will end up in the Bay of Fundy.

Don't Blink or You'll Miss Me

So today I completed my first TV News interview.  It took all of 6 minutes for Ashley Dunbar to get the footage she needed and it took a small fraction of the time for it to air.  I came across fine but I was nervous to see how she would edit it.  I rambled a bit more than I was taught and this fed my worry.

I don't think that Matt Damon has anything to worry about because Hollywood won't be calling anytime soon.  But why don't you be the judge.  Check it out at CTV News.

The Human Nature of Weather

The weather is a part of nature, however, I think it might also be a part of human nature.  There have been a number of times when wandering that the weather has changed my mood as often as it changed its own mood.  What is it about the weather that affects us?  Here in the Canadian Maritimes we recently experienced a crazy winter storm.  In Kings County, NB the storm did not necessarily hit us the hardest but it still walloped us with a wild and windy punch.

Shortly after family dinner, I decided I should shovel the drive way.  I have found it much easier to shovel the driveway a couple of times through a snowfall event rather than shovel it once at the end of the storm.  As I prepared to go out to shovel I nudged the kids into coming out with me.  I quickly shoveled the driveway out and then played with the kids.  It is bizarre how wild weather can bring out the kid in you.  The kids were already laughing and having a blast in the winter blast and I couldn't help but join them.

I decided to bury my head in the snow and show the kids how quiet and less windy it is under the drifts.  We looked like a bunch of ostriches with our heads in the sand but the kids were amazed at how quiet and warm it was.  As a car drove by, I wondered what they thought when they seen us with our heads in the snow.  I couldn't help but grin broadly.

My son ran to the snow bank in the back yard and wanted to show me how high in was.  I have to admit it was impressive, likely about 4.5ft in height.  It ran the entire length of the house and a snow bank that brother created when he plowed my driveway.  We all climbed the high snow pile and jumped into the drift.  I was instantly transported back to my early teens when I would do a front flip into such a snow drift.  On my second jump, at almost 40 years old, I completed a front flip into the drift.  It wasn't graceful but the judges were generous and gave me a 7.

What made me do the front flip?  What made me go out in a driving snow storm to play with the kids?  Why did I grin like a kid the whole time out there?  These questions have came to mind in the past.  I've never found a great answer.  The only thing I come up with is that being outside affects our brain makes us feel younger.  With this thought, I've often felt that maybe simply being outdoors more is the secret to staying young.  Maybe natural surroundings are a fountain of youth.

What do you think?  Is it human nature to be in nature?

Exploring New Woods

This was published in the March 25th edition of the Kings County Record.  A recent trip to explore land conservation models left me feeling something different and I tried to convey that feeling through this piece.  I like the way it came out and feel that I'm not the only one that shares these feelings; either in someone's home or in new woods.  I hope you enjoy it.

 

When you walk into a friend’s home for the first time you experience a feeling of discomfort.  There is a mix of curiosity and desire to be respectful that tend to battle one another.  You want to sneak into the bedroom and see if the dirty clothes are picked up but you don’t want to infringe on your friend’s right to privacy.  When you walk into unfamiliar wilderness, the feeling might be similar.  I was investigating a new model for watershed conservation near Woodstock, NB recently and I experienced this feeling.

The Meduxnekeag River Association (MRA) has successfully established a number of conservation forests along their river.  One such conservation area is the Bell Forest where I met with a group of grade three students from Centreville.  Simon Mitchell and George Peabody, Program Coordinators for the MRA, were going to lead the group, including me, through the snow clad forest.  Immediately, I felt different, almost relieved, because I had no responsibility here.

Everyone trekked up over the snow bank that separated the forest from the roadway.  I went last and took my time as George and Simon provided the students with some educational tidbits.  I could hear a woodpecker off in the distance and observed a few black capped chickadees.  This piqued my interest and I decided to wander away from the group a little, I guess you could say I was looking for dirty laundry.  After a few minutes on my own I navigated back to the group and listened to the grade three students answer questions that Simon put out to them.

Instantly there was an urge to compare the students from Centreville to those in the Sussex region.  In essence I was comparing my kitchen cutlery to that of my friends.  Just so you know, my cutlery was just as nice.  Comparing the linens might have been me comparing the trees and here I felt a bit conflicted because there were stark differences between the households.  Bell Forest is rich in Acadian species and where I normally trek is mixed forest, so again I was feeling a little uncomfortable. 

The group made its way down the slope, in your home this might be the stairway, towards the river.  The way the topography of Bell Forest literally stepped down towards the river and made me feel like I was heading to a finished basement.  The hills around the Kennebecasis watershed might be more like an escalator to an open storage room.  Every home is great for its uniqueness and I was starting to separate the Meduxnekeag from the Kennebecasis as I became more familiar with the Medux.  See, I’m now at a nickname basis with it.

The hike for the grade threes ended and Simon and I took some time to drive around the watershed.  This was more like going through the drive-thru of a new restaurant or coffee shop.  The distance from the ordering post to the pick up window is much shorter at the Meduxnekeag River than in the Kennebecasis.  Regardless of the size however, the scenery was as rewarding.  Large hills, rock ledges, rapids and waterfalls, and some diverse wetlands, all fed my hunger and left me feeling satisfied.

Looking at someone else’s home can often make you realize how nice your own home is or how unique it is.  We all need to change our perspective from time to time to appreciate what we have and this trip provided that.  If you like the Kennebecasis River and want to help keep the dirty clothes hidden then come out to Sullivan Park on Post Road on April 5^th from 9 to 11am to help the Kennebecasis Watershed Restoration Committee harvest some willows that will be used for future restoration work.

Easy Wandering

This was a column I recently had published in the Kings County Record.  The hope is to inspire people to embrace the long winter as opposed to complain about it.  If you can get outside and enjoy the late March snow and warm winter time temperatures, then there is a ton of fun to have.

It is starting to look like we are in for a longer than anticipated winter.  This is especially true if you believe what the groundhog predicted.  One good thing about the large amount of snow that is hanging around this time of year; it makes for great snow shoeing.  The sun warms up the late morning and afternoon air to comfortable levels.  You now can easily convince yourself to make time to shake of the winter blues by getting outside.

I recently got out for a snow shoe across a large farm field and it was inspiring for how simple and easy the occasion was.  There was no need to drive far, I didn’t need to worry about getting lost, and for those who don’t like tough terrain; it was flat, almost barren.  When I looked across the field it was easy to see why some parts of the arctic are consider desert.  The trekking was so easy that my mind easily wandered to random stuff. 

The cold was biting at my nose and my ear lobes but the sun was fighting for its share of attention as well.  The bright blue sky and the light reflecting off the snow made it hard to ignore the sun and thus it warmed not only my face but my inside as well.  The wind, not to be out done, blew light wisps of snow around my collar and strangled me as the snow melted down the back of my neck.  The heat, with a big push from the inner heat, wins out and I push further across the field.

A large tree in the distance caught my attention and I alter my course to check it out.  The hardwood tree appears cold, despite being partially hugged by a large pine.  It is a maple tree with scaly grey bark and its outer limbs are partially covered in ice.  I couldn’t help but hug the tree and as I did I noticed a number of black capped chickadees flitting between the maple and the pine.  I came out of my own head for a minute and listened.  The birds were chirping and the wind was more brisk here now that the sun was behind the trees the cold was starting to win the battle.

I moved back out into the field and the sunshine and smiled as my cheeks warmed once again.  My next point of interest was a corral on the sunny side of a tree line.  With the snow draping off of it, it looked older than what it likely was.  I felt like I was in an episode of “Little House on the Prairie” where my character was looking for a missing horse.  It was a cool feeling and I was now fully retreated back into my own head again.  Then it hit me….this easy field snow shoeing is a great place to come and recharge and get inspired.  I should do this more often.

If you’ve been stressed about this long winter season, or fretting about taxes maybe, or considering a job change; try going to a nearby field and snow shoe across or around the field.  Let your mind wander and listen to what speaks to you.  Without a doubt, as you walk, you will feel your body coming to life.  You’ll feel the cold breezes more vividly, you’ll feel that sun light pushing the cold aside, and you’ll feel your soul warming with the season.

Lessons Learned to Live By

Even on a cold day the postcard setting of Capstick Cape Breton was comforting.

NOTE: This is a version of a column I had published in the Kings County Record recently.  Maybe sometime soon I'll get to printing the entire journal entry here.  The trip was full of life lessons and I absorbed some great stuff that I haven't forgotten.  Obviously I haven't provided all the lessons here but I hope I have presented an entertaining view of some of what we learned.

A few years ago now, well maybe over a decade ago, I guess, I spent a long weekend trekking through Cape Breton Highlands National Park.  That trip resulted in many great memories of some fantastic winter scenery.  That’s right, winter scenery.  My buddy Pete and I left his home in Antigonish to spend three winter nights touring the Park.  I could go on and on about the trip and the adventurous spirit that we set out with.  Heck the drive back to Antigonish after our trip was an adventure in itself that would require more space than I have here.  The biggest thing that I took away from that memorable venture however, Pete and I wrote down a list of lessons learned.  I was flipping through some journals and albums the other day and found this list of lessons. 

In all Pete and I wrote down 21 lessons.  I laughed as I noted the first lesson we had written down.  “Instant potatoes, Ready Made Bacon, Lipton’s Soupworks are all very tasty.”  When winter camping, most food even bad food tastes great.  That is likely the lesson here.  Lesson 9 also referred to food but in a different manner.  Pete packed in some maple syrup and didn’t pack it in a bag and in the cold weather it broke open inside his pack.  Luckily, in the winter time, bears hibernate otherwise we could have been dinner.

Pancake ice on the shores near Ingonish.

Number 10 on the list might be appropriate considering the weather we’re having now.  “Remember to get weather forecasts before hike, but don’t let weather change your plans just your preparation.”  We had crazy weather as it went from 4°C to -14°C within an hour as we climbed out of our tents on the first morning.  Everything changed to ice in minutes.  While it was difficult it also added to our adventure and we adapted well.  I also liked the way we worded that lesson.

One lesson I still haven’t learned made number 7 on our list “Always scout out area very well before erecting tent, place in area of less wind perhaps, don’t jump the gun.”  This lesson came from our first night as we pitched our tent on the first tent platform at Fishing Cove and later, after supper, we found a much better tent location. I still though let my trail weariness steer me astray on this one.  Now that I have re-read my list maybe next time I’ll remember.

My feet are usually warm, and I’m not bothered that much by cold feet.  Pete however claims lucky lesson 13.  “Socks, socks, and more socks, = happiness in winter.”  I agree fully with this lesson, and find it very important to have dry socks when you crawl into your winterized tent for the night.  Warm feet result in a better sleep when you’re winter camping, and sleep is good no matter what season you’re camping in.

Small fishing piers dotted the coast lines and added color to the winter scene.

Number 19 on the list refers back to our drive home and states “Don’t be scared to be spontaneous.”  We took a back road and we didn’t even mind getting lost.  It resulted in Pete taking his first trip on a cable ferry and it was Cape Breton so the scenery was spectacular.  

There were numerous other lessons we took from our trip but I have highlighted some of the key ones here.  We originally wrote the lessons by candle light while sitting in a warming hut along the Cleyburn Valley Trail on the east side of the Park.  As I write this my mind wanders back to that evening as we sat next to the warm fire.  My whisperlite stove is brewing tea and Pete and I simply smile.  I think I need to go camping soon.

Rugged coastlines dominated the Highlands and we wished we had more time to explore.