It seemed as if the snow would never leave and I didn’t expect the ice to go out of Pierce Pond until June but sure enough the warm weather came. I was able to get a boat onto Pierce pond on May 5th though there was still ice in some of the coves. I began some guiding there on the 7th and smelts were running strong by then. For them it was a little later than usual. With all the snow melting the brooks were high and that may have delayed them. I guided a group of old friends led by John Leslie, who has been a guest at Cobb’s since before I started guiding. John was instrumental in starting the Maine Wilderness Watershed Trust, and I remember all the discussions about how to go about this conservation business.
It was great to be out in warm spring weather with old friends—and the fish even cooperated. Each evening we would troll around a cove where smelts were running and catch a few fish as the sunset faded. There usually are owls nearby so I called for them and in no time they were answering and flying into trees along the shore. One large aggressive Barred Owl would actually fly from tree to tree following my boat, and we could see it outlined against the western sky as it hooted at us. For three nights the owls came immediately when I called and put on quite a show. The commotion would get the loons started, and of course the peepers were deafening. A beaver swam around the cove occasionally slapping his tail in irritation at all the intrusion into his space. On the last evening with the Leslie group, we even had a scraggly moose come wading out to join all the activity. The poor thing looked as if he couldn’t believe he had survived the winter, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had keeled over right then. There is not much that is better than a warm spring day except a magical spring evening with the sweet smells and sounds of new beginnings.
I went alone to get a few smelts so Pat and I could have a taste of our favorite spring delicacy. I can paddle my big canoe right into the brook where they run but there are a few obstacles to watch out for. When I was younger and could still see a bit in the dark, I could slide into that little spot with ease. Now I need a light to take a quick look and get lined up on the slot where there is just enough space to slip through. I used my flashlight to pick out a rock that marks the entrance and on top of the rock some eyes reflected back at me. Standing on the rock was a beautiful Black Crowned Night Heron. He had the same idea that I did only he wasn’t expecting any company. With the light on him he froze and of course couldn’t see me. I let the canoe drift forward to see how close I could get and he didn’t fly until the bow was only inches away. This was a first for me and I was so excited to see such a handsome bird up close. The smelts tasted as sweet as I remembered, but that little moment will be a snapshot I’ll never forget. Later I fished with Brad Moses and his group for a few days. We could still call the owls but their interest was fading.
On May 1st I saw a beautiful male bluebird on a fence post in the yard. Tree swallows were here already but they had not selected a nest box yet. The bluebird showed interest in his usual spot, and when he disappeared we didn’t worry too much. He didn’t return until the 17th when he arrived with a female. They spent a morning checking out the nest boxes and left, not to be seen again. I was in the process of moving our little arbor across the yard and I’m afraid the disruption was too much for them. Pat makes the best grape jelly from grapes we pick at Aunt Margie’s homestead. We decided we ought to grow some here so I have built a new arbor where the old one was and moved the old one to make an entryway into the front yard. The new one is larger and lower and made entirely with peeled cedar from the woodlot. I found a couple of cedars with a natural curve to top off each end. The birds haven’t gotten used to it yet.
Jay Manning and Lauren Parmenter came all the way from Rhode Island to do some spring birding. The warblers had not gotten into full swing yet but I don’t think they were disappointed. We boated through the Pierce Pond watershed on one day. There is a beautiful remote pond that I like to hike to now and then, so I took them up to see it. There are no roads that allow wheeled access, so it is a two mile boat ride to a trail head and a half-hour walk to reach it. Dixon Pond is nestled at the foot of a mountain and was still as a mirror except for an occasional trout rising. There are fragments of the forest primeval along the trail with some huge hemlocks and sugar maples still remaining. The old spruces surrounding the shore make it dark and moss under foot muffles all the sounds. The trail comes to the shore and follows it a few yards to an old campsite where I used to boil coffee and share Betty Cobb’s homemade donuts with the Leslie group and fellow guide, Steve Staples. His dark curly hair is white as my beard now, but it doesn’t seem as though it was that long ago. I was surprised to see the campsite still clear and the rocks from the fireplace in their neat ring. The ash and cinders are covered with green grass now, but one little campfire and it would hold for a few more years. Old Lester Arsenault had his ashes spread up there. Maybe he has kept the clearing ready in case a guest should arrive. Across the pond we saw something in the water that didn’t seem quite right, and with the spotting scope we realized it was a dead moose. He must have succumbed to the long winter and died on the ice. The carcass was stuck on a log or something not far from shore and nothing had been eating it yet. There will be some eagle traffic there, I suspect. On Stewart Mountain we hiked up to a logged over area near the summit. We have gotten Boreal Chickadees there and were hoping for a repeat. We were startled to find a bulldozed clearing and a man working on a tangle of cables and pipes. It turned out to be a tower used to test the wind, and it had fallen. The view from the clearing was spectacular to say the least. We could see the Carry Ponds, Flagstaff Lake and the entire Bigelow Range without obstruction. There is a company interested in placing a few wind turbines along that ridge. Since it straddles the AT, I can’t wait for the battle ahead.
There was a sucker run at the Pond Stream Bridge on May 15th. This is the earliest I have witnessed that. The eagles were waiting on their usual perches. It didn’t last long and I think it must have been on for awhile before I saw it. When our “Birding by Ear” weekend took place, the suckers were already finished, though the eagles were still hopeful. We had a very successful birding tour, though we didn’t do well with the Boreal species. It is difficult to be in place for those before breakfast so we may have to take breakfast out next spring. We got a total of 98 species and there was a warbler wave that came in on Monday morning. It was very exciting for those who stayed the extra night.
As I write this we have had our first heat wave and the black flies have begun their work.
“Gang Warily”,
Greg and Pat
