St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day is also my 68th birthday.

My rule is to eat what ever I want to, exercise as little as possible, and do nothing productive this day.

Therefore, other than noting that my son and his family came by to bring me lunch and that Gary bought me a chocolate shake, I have been mostly sitting in the warm sunshine reading books, including the one Gary gave me: People of the Sturgeon, Wisconsin's Love Affair with an Ancient Fish, by Kline, Bruch and Binkowski.

Tomorrow, I will get back to work but this is all I will be writing today.

After the Wolf River

We came off the Wolf River exhilarated with the warm day's adventures.  We didn't want to go home just yet, so we drove to the Navarino Nature Center which is north of Highway 156.  McDonald Road runs through the area.  It is a swamp with big swatches of water.

Almost immediately we found common goldeneyes near the road, but we wanted to get a better look so we parked and walked into a viewing area built years ago by an Eagle Scout. From there, using our binoculars we could zero in on the various water fowl.

Across the water, we could see the "seven swans a-swimming" of Christmas fame.  Closer were lesser scaup and to my delight, a hooded merganser.

He is one of my favorites.  Later in the summer, his hood is smoothed back, but in the spring, he puts on his Easter bonnet to charm the ladies.

The usual Canada geese, red-winged blackbirds and sandhill cranes were there, too, plus some sleepy muskrats checking out their huts for spring repairs.

Next we went off of Van Patten Road near Shiocton to see more birds.  The gnats have risen and with that the first tree swallows made their appearance, too.

All of the birds we've been seeing arrived at least a week earlier than last year.  We'll keep on checking to see what's happening.  With warm weather continuing, we may even get out on the river again next week.

******

Be sure to check out "Stroke, Stroke, Breathe" by Wade Peterson at Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

First Canoe Trip of 2012 - Part Two

Once on the Wolf River, we were soon spotting birds and consulting our copy of Sibley's Field Guide when the little guys refused to sit still.  Sibley's is good for flying birds, too.

Noon:  A flock of common goldeneyes erupted from a little bay and flew over us. We caught sight of the white markings.  Later we would see more sedentary goldeneyes which showed we were right.

12:20 pm.  More kingfishers and this time they showed themselves.

By now we were singing Bill Staines' song "River".  After all these years we know all the words:
River, take me along, in your sunshine, sing me your song.
Every moving, ever winding and free, 
You rolling old river, you changing old river,
Let's you and me river run down to the sea.

Of course the Wolf doesn't exactly go directly to the sea, it goes into the Fox River which goes into Lake Michigan at Green Bay.  Sooner or later, however, the water flows through the St. Lawrence River into the Atlantic.  

12:39 p.m.  Eurkea, the highlight of the day, three otters playing on the bank, having a grand old time.  We couldn't remember the last time we had seen otters, but it took me back to my grade school days and the books of Thornton Burgess who wrote "The Wishing Stone" and other books about animals and their lives.  I loved Little Joe Otter who knew how to have fun.   I was so excited I couldn't find my camera before they disappeared into the water but I found a photo on line.  















12:49 p.m.  We found some marsh wrens setting up shop in the dry grasses.  I thought this was early but Gary said that we already have house wrens at Mathom House.

1:10 pm.  Finally, Gary found a place to stop for lunch.  Up until now, the banks were too wet and swampy. He settled the canoe on a dry spot, and helped me out.

It was a particularly good landing because there was an old road, last used by a tractor.  This gave us a chance to hike up and down for a while to stretch our legs.

We ate a simple lunch and then we were on our way again.  The thermometer Gary brought along told us it was now 70 degrees F.  Gary noted that the problem with getting on the river this early in the year is that the sun sets too soon.  Usually, we would take a nap before getting back in the canoe.   

1:26 p.m.  We saw a third year eagle, his "bald" head not full filled in yet.  A few minutes later, our first wood ducks of the year, followed by yet another flock of goldeneyes. 

1:52 p.m.  Gary ran us aground in a shallow place so he could consult Sacajawea, his GPS system.  After judicious calculations, he informed me that yes, we were still on the Wolf River.  With all the tributaries still frozen, where else would we be?  A white throated sparrow was singing on the bank, about the loveliest of bird songs.  

2:18 p.m. Three eagles, two juveniles and an adult flew off then came back to soar above us.  They stuck with us for twenty minutes.  

2:40 p.m. The bridge at the River's Edge came into view and soon we were on shore, retrieving Gary's van, and stowing gear.  

In the entire day, we had only seen one other person, a fellow coming out of his river cottage and getting into his pickup truck  We had had six solitary hours with nature that couldn't be beat. 

But that wasn't the end of our day. 

More tomorrow.  

First Canoe Trip of 2012 - Part One

"You don't take a 75 degree day and NOT go canoeing," says Gary.  "That's common sense."

Only once before were Gary and I able to canoe on a March day in Wisconsin.  Back in 2007, we were able to do so on March 26.  That makes today a record.

There are certain rules for canoeing.  The first thing I must do is buy a foot long sub sandwich.  This is the easiest meal to take and simplicity is what I like.  The canoe goes on top of Gary's van and I follow him to our final destination.  In this case it was the River's Edge Resort on Highway F west of Nichols.  I parked my car there and together we rode in his van to the boat landing on Highway 156, also called Clintonville Road.  The boat landing is at a little bayou on the edge of the Wolf River.  Unfortunately, it was still encased in ice.

Just over the Highway 156 bridge was the edge of the Navarino Nature Area with another parking area.  This was on the edge of the river, which was free flowing.  We put the canoe in there instead.

We found that most of the tributaries leading into the Wolf were still frozen, but the big river was fine, except for occasional ice chunks.  We discussed the Titanic, but the ice bits were no thicker than a quarter of an inch, and unlike icebergs, there was nothing underneath to crash into our canoe.

10:30 a.m.  We set off.  The sandhill cranes in the marshes around us set up a cacophony of warning cries.  Flickers called out and pecked on their favorite trees.  Those two sounds along with the honking of geese would follow us throughout the day.  A red-tailed hawk cruised overhead.

The water temperature was about 40 degrees, still too cold to bring  the turtles out of their winter mud to sun themselves on logs.  We were over ten degrees away from the sturgeon spawning.  But the warmth of sun on our backs was exactly what we wanted.  

We cruised past one of our sturgeon guard sites where someone ingeniously turned an old wagon into a movable gazebo. If the weather stays this warm, sturgeon guarding won't be far off.

I soon leaned back, setting my paddle aside.  Gary worked with the river current.  I said I would paddle if necessary, but that would mean the trip would be faster, and who would want that?  A day like this almost makes winter worth it.

10:55 a.m. A herd of white tailed deer crashed through the marsh.  We estimated twelve to fifteen deer.  No deer shortage here, despite hunters' complaints.

Trees downed during the winter stretched across the river, but we usually could navigate around them.  At one point, however, we had to bend way down in our seats to go under a horizontal tree.  We barely made it.

11:49 a.m.  We heard the first kingfisher of the year chatter as it missed its prey.  Shortly after a mourning cloak fluttered by.  The mourning cloak can be seen as many as eleven months out of the Wisconsin year, but it still is lovely to see a butterfly in March.

The Wolf River meanders so much so that when you see some interesting structure in the distance, you know that if you follow the river for fifteen minutes, you will come to a bend and the river will take you back for a closer look.

More tomorrow.

Waupaca

Today it was off to Waupaca to the public library.  The library hosts a monthly lunch with speakers and today I was the main feature  The audience, mainly senior citizens, dined on baked potatoes and salads while I told them about my adventures in last summer's tour.  This was my second lecture on the subject and I think I am getting a bit better at it.

I began with a song and a story that I used with the children, then I moved on to the tour, using photos I had taken.

I explained my parsimonious ways.  The clothes I took were bought at St. Vincent de Paul's bag sale.  I stayed at national forest campgrounds where I paid half with my senior access card.  Many of them had never heard of such a thing.  I am sure they will be buying their cards within the week.

I talked about some of the interesting people I met.  My car overheated all the time and that was another story.  I showed them photos of some of the odd campgrounds, including the one with the fire ants, and another in a city park in a small town.  

And so it went.  The talk was a success, and led to another booking.  

I came home by way of Shiocton's swamp.  There are even more sandhill cranes than before.  Most of the swans have moved on, but a few were still east of Black Creek.

Tomorrow, Gary and I will canoe down the Wolf River.  The spring adventures are just beginning. 

Biking Around the World

I've written before about my imaginary walk westward around the world.  I'm still working on it, with 18,213 miles walked, only 140 to Belgrade.  With warmer weather, I'm averaging three miles a day.  Even today, with rain, I managed two miles.

Up until three years ago, I was doing another imaginary trip on my exercise bicycle.  In this trip I traveled east across the United States, skipped islands across the Atlantic to England, then went south through the English "Chunnel" and on to Europe, marking the miles off on my map of western Europe.

My knees went bad in 2009 when I was approaching Athens.  At that point, I had to give away my exercise bicycle, especially when Gary moved in with me and we didn't have much room.

This year, I began to use the recumbent  bicycle at the fitness center and found the angle was better for my knees, so once more I am biking a few miles a week.  I finally am continuing my trip, only 282 miles from  Athens.  Though we won't be using the fitness center over the summer all that much, I still think I will reach Athens and travel on eastward to meet my walking self heading west.

Then, if I live long enough, both imaginary selves will meet once again back in Seymour.

Finding Spring

After church, the day warmed up.  Gary had opened all the windows and doors to air out the house.  He repaired the picnic  table and was warming up the grill for a bratwurst feast.  It sure seemed like spring.  After we ate I went out to find it.

First I went over to the library.  A week before, the snowdrops looked about to burst into bloom, but then the snows came.  I was sure that once the snow melted, they would be in their glory and I was right.

But even better, the first crocuses were showing their color:  

After seeing the library's bounty, I wanted to see what Mother Nature had to offer, so I went off to the Good Shepherd woods, located beside the nursing home  

There used to be good trails out there, created by a boy working on becoming an Eagle Scout, but over the years the trails have become overgrown.  The markers that used to tell about the types of trees and flowers are no longer there.  

At this time of year, I couldn't easily get lost because the bushes had yet to fill out. However, I had to climb over logs, go through bramble bushes (getting some nasty cuts) and jump across water.  Nothing was in bloom yet.  The snow had too recently melted. I did find the beginnings of marsh marigolds in the swamp water.   

I came away with wet shoes and socks but it was well worth it. 

When I got home, Gary had canoe bars on his van.  By Wednesday, the temperature should reach the mid-70s F and we may well be out cruising down the Wolf River. 

One final spring note:  this evening I came across a rowdy bunch of cedar waxwings, who had all the signs of intoxication.  They probably had found some fermented berries.  They will sober up overnight and continue their journey north. They too are looking for spring.