Since I couldn’t remember the last time I had climbed Mount Caesar in Swanzey I thought it was probably time that I did. I had two objectives in mind: I wanted to see the toadskin lichens that grow on its summit, and I wanted to see the arrow that is carved into the granite on the summit, supposedly by Native Americans. It is said that it points the way to Mount Monadnock. In fact it is said that every hill in this area has an arrow on its summit which points to Monadnock. As you can see in the above photo, the trail starts out as granite bedrock covered by a thin layer of pine needles.
What soil there is here is a very thin layer on top of bedrock, as this blown down white pine shows. When it fell it took the soil in its root mass with it, revealing the granite underneath. It’s hard to believe that such a big tree would have a root system no more than 6 or 8 inches thick but this one did.
A fellow hiker pointed out these small ferns growing on the underside of the blowdown’s rootball. “Christmas ferns in the shape of a Christmas tree,” he said. And so they were.
Yet another fallen tree had a tangle of oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) vine in its topmost branches. This invasive vine climbs trees, strangling them on the way, to get to the most sunshine. Between their strangling habit and shading out a tree’s crown, the vines weaken the tree and it eventually falls, just like this cherry did.
Blue is a tough color to find in nature especially in the world of fungi and lichens, so I was surprised when I saw several of these blue gray crustose examples on a stone beside the trail. Crustose lichens grow like a crust and usually can’t be removed without damage to the substrate. I haven’t been able to identify this one.
I don’t remember ever seeing running club moss (Lycopodium clavatum) on Mt. Caesar but here was a large colony of it. This plant gets its name from the part that isn’t seen in this photo; a long, running stem (rhizome) under the leaves from which the upright parts that are seen here grow. Though this example had no fruiting members (called strobili), the spores that they produce were one collected, dried and used in photography as flash powder before flash bulbs were invented.
Teaberries (Gaultheria procumbens) grew right alongside the running clubmoss. If I had to go back as far as my memory could take me and search for the first plant that I ever got to know well, this one would have to be it. My grandmother called them checkerberries and loved the minty taste of the berries. She used to take me into the woods to find the plants when I was just a very young boy. While searching for the plants I would see other plants and ask her what they were, and that’s how my woodland education began. I’ve wanted to know the name of every plant that I see ever since. Teaberry is one of our native wintergreens and is also called American wintergreen.
I wondered for a long time what caused these circular patterns in the bark of red maples until I finally found out that they are natural markings that the tree eventually outgrows. I don’t see them often but every now and then a single tree will be marked in this way. Now I wonder why a certain tree will have them when all of the others around it don’t. If you know anything about it I’d love to hear from you.
Note: Thanks very much to Kathy Schillemat, Josh Fecteau and Al Stoops for identifying this unusual bark pattern as target canker that affects only red maples. The bark pattern is actually caused by the tree defending itself against the canker. Al also sent me an excellent article about how and why Michael Wojtech wrote the book Bark: A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast. It’s very much worth a read and can be found by clicking on the word HERE.
There is a huge old log lying parallel to the trail that always tells me three things:
1. I am very close to the summit.
2. I’m not as young as I used to be.
3. It’s time to stop and pretend that I’ve seen something fascinating while catching my breath.
Only this time I really did see something fascinating; a perfect example of a branch collar. If you do any tree pruning you would do well to read all you can find about branch collars, because if you prune off a branch while ignoring the branch collar you could be slowing down the healing process and inviting any number of diseases to come and visit your trees.
It wasn’t a great day for looking at the views but it didn’t bother me because that wasn’t what I came here for. It seemed very hazy on this day but it was warm and spring like, so I couldn’t complain. I chose this photo because it shows one of the cliff edges found here. Since I fell out of a tree and shattered my spine in my early teen years heights and I haven’t been the best of friends, but I got close enough to this edge to make the fluttering butterflies in my stomach become soaring eagles. Doing so isn’t something I make a habit of.
This is what I came to see; my old friends the toadskin lichens (Lasallia papulosa.) I’ve only found them in two places and both are on mountain tops. I was surprised to see their grayish color because that meant they were drying out, even after all the rain we’ve had. When wet they are pea green and very pliable, but apparently it doesn’t take them long to dry out and become crisp like a potato chip. I took many photos of them but I chose this one to show you because the lighter gray area shows how they attach their undersides to the stone at a central point, much like a belly button. That is why they are classified as umbilicate lichens. I like their warty-ness.
I paced back and forth over every inch of exposed bedrock on the summit but I couldn’t find the arrow pointing to Mount Monadnock. Instead I found this, which I I’m not fond of seeing. Defacing mountain tops has been going on for a very long time but that doesn’t make it right. Even Henry David Thoreau complained about it when he climbed Mount Monadnock back in 1858 and found a name that had been chiseled into the granite in 1801. The date of this example looks like either 1936 or 1986.
I think the very bright sunshine might have had something to do with my not being able to see the arrow, but I know it exists because I’ve seen photos of it online. It really looks more like a “V” than an arrow. It wasn’t a total loss though because I found toadskin lichens growing in 2 more locations that I didn’t know about.
I also found this while I was looking for the arrow. One of the ways stone was split in colonial New England was by drilling a row of holes in it and filling them with water in the winter. When the water froze and expanded it would split the stone along the path made by the holes. Such is the power of ice, and though man had nothing to do with it I’d guess that ice is why this large piece of granite originally split in two. Over the eons-how many is anyone’s guess-the part on the left has been sliding down the mountainside and one day, most likely with an earth shaking roar, it will probably go over the edge.
Well, in the end I did find an arrow pointing to Mount Monadnock but it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I had to laugh though, because I’ll bet that I’ve walked by this 50 times without seeing it. So much for my great powers of observation. It’s good to be humbled once in a while when we get too big for our britches but that doesn’t stop me from hoping someone will write in and say that they just tacked it to that pine tree last week.
In case you’re new to this blog and are wondering what the hubbub over Mount Monadnock is all about, here is a photo of it. At 3,165 feet it’s the highest point in southern New Hampshire and is said to be the second most climbed mountain in the world after Mount Fuji in Japan. The word Monadnock is thought to originate with the Native American Abenaki tribe and is said to mean “mountain that stands alone. “ It’s hard to get a good feel for its elevation from this photo but it is 2203 feet higher than where I stood when I clicked the shutter.
No matter how sophisticated you may be, a large granite mountain cannot be denied – it speaks in silence to the very core of your being. ~Ansel Adams
Thanks for coming by.
Reblogged this on Dawn of Divine Rays.
Thank you Agnes!
I always learn something new when I visit your blog. Thanks for teaching me about my backyard.
You’re welcome Trish. I’m glad that you’re taking an interest in the outdoors. There are a lot of amazing things to see!
The toad skin lichen is lovely, I’d like to see that for real. What a pity you didn’t find the arrow though.
I’m not sure that you have toadskin lichen there. I Googled it but didn’t get any promising results.
I’ll find that arrow eventually. Mt. Caesar is something I climb fairly regularly.
Once again I enjoyed seeing what you see, some familiar, some brand new to me, all interesting, and I really appreciate your narrative.
Thanks Montucky. I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Great blog !!!!! I wouldn’t miss one as I have very similar interests but present schedule doesn’t allow much time to pursue I noticed the bark on what appears to be a soft maple. I quite often find what looks like circular breaks on soft maples. I was also curious about the design somehow learned (correctly or not) that it is the tree’s attempt to compartmentalize a threatening organism. Perhaps this may even be true! Anyway I really appreciate your photos and the time you spend putting it all together which allows me a brief escape to a world I love. Jim Howe
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Thank you Jim.
Yes, that photo is of a target canker on red maple (Acer rubrum.) From what I’ve read target cankers can be caused by several different fungi that can attack the tree, and the circular pattern is created by the tree when it is trying to combat the fungus. I guess we should be thankful that we don’t see it more often!
I’m very glad that you enjoy the blog and hope you will continue to do so.
It would take me quite a while to list my favorites in this blog. You live in such a fascinating place!
Thank you, it is beautiful country with plenty to see.
Wonderful photos, as always. The fallen pine reminds me of something I heard on a visit to Yosemite. One of the rangers told me that the giant sequoias actually have shallow root systems – but the roots could extend 150 feet horizontally. It’s amazing how trees can adapt to their respective environments.
Thank you Ellen. It really is amazing that such a giant tree could have such shallow roots, but I suppose they know what they’re doing. I wonder if a white pine would have a deeper root system if it wasn’t growing on bedrock. I’ve never had to dig a pine stump, so I don’t really know.
It looks like such a gorgeous day to be out and about for a walk.
Thank you Charlie. It was one of those bonus days that don’t happen often. Spring in December.
How cool! Those toadskin lichens are beautiful, and aptly named.
Thanks! Yes, for once the common name describes them perfectly.
The conifer trees that have been planted for commercial reasons round us grow on very shallow soil but blow over very easily as a result. The lichen was well worth the walk.
It sounds like giving a wide berth to the conifer plantation would be a good idea! I don’t usually mind climbing to see the toadskin lichens but there have been times that I wished they grew at sea level.
Another wonderful post Allen! The photographs beautiful and the information fascinating. Both my husband and I have regular stops to look at the view as we gasp and puff! My daughter, who has scoliosis, was told by her physiotherapist to bend and pretend to re-tie her shoe laces whenever she started to tire or when her back began to ache. The crouching position stretches the back as an added benefit! The Running Club Moss is very attractive – it looks like little fir seedlings. I am often surprised at how shallow some tree roots are when I see fallen trees. The trees can grow very tall and the roots only going down a few inches in some instances. Quite amazing.
Thank you Clare. I’m glad you and Richard get a kick out of these posts and I hope they inspire you to go for even more walks!
I’m sorry to hear that your daughter has scoliosis, I have that too. I hadn’t heard of that way to relieve back pain so I’ll have to give it a try. Back pain is a terrible thing but it’s something I’ve had to learn to live with. You might tell your daughter that meditation has helped me a lot in the management of it. There are some good websites that teach guided meditation-Meditation Oasis is one that comes to mind.
I think wind has a lot to do with how deep a tree’s roots grow. For instance stunted trees on mountain tops often have extensive root systems while trees that grow in valleys and don’t see much wind have very shallow roots. That’s why the tree in this post fell. It was protected by a wide swath of forest but they cut all the trees down and as soon as that windbreak was removed this tree and several others fell.
Thank-you for the meditation idea! We will look into that. I had thought that the large trees that fell may have lost their windbreak so you have confirmed that thought.
I used to work in an office building here called the Monadnock. It’s considered historic – one of the first skyscrapers built in the late 19th Century. Why they named it after a mountain in New Hampshire I’m not sure.
Interesting. The word seems to have evolved to mean just about anything that stands alone, so maybe that’s why. It’s hard to picture a skyscraper standing all alone, but maybe it did when it was built.
Thank you so much for all the fascinating places you have taken us and the great photos. It was a totally enchanting year. Looking forward to much more from you this new year. Eddie
You’re welcome Eddie. I’m glad that you enjoy coming along on these adventures. Reading your blog has reminded me to be more grateful for seeing what I do.
Sorry, but I chuckled at your words describing your fear of heights, “the fluttering butterflies in my stomach become soaring eagles.” I know what you mean, after discovering my fear of heights while standing at the edge of a precipice in Utah many years ago. Excellent description!
Thank you Paula. I can see you backing away from that edge very slowly. If you could move at all, that is. It’s a hard thing to live with sometimes, isn’t it?
Hiking in the mountains out west is way different than NH! I was climbing the side of a mountain on ledge that was about a foot wide, and was fine until I stopped and looked behind me at the valley below. Then I froze! Could not move for about 1/2 hour, until I forced myself to get the heck down off the mountain. An experience I will never forget. 🙂
I know just how you felt, in fact my stomach was fluttering as I read this! It must have been quite a job getting down from there but good for you for having the presence of mind to be able to do it! I’m not sure that I would have been able to, and I can easily see helicopters and rescue baskets and angry rescuers telling me how foolish I was.
Amazing what a wonderful vicarious experience you give us. Thanks!
You’re welcome Sue, I’m glad you enjoy these posts.
What a wonderful climb for the new year! Love the last shot of Monadnock!!
Thanks Martha. It’s always worth the effort!
That pattern that you saw on the red maple is called bull’s eye canker, or some thing like that. I can’t remember now if that is the exact name, but it is distinctive and a good way to identify red maple, because it only appears on red maples. Though Al Stoops and I have seen something similar on yellow birch, or at least it looked similar.
Thank you Kathy. Josh Fecteau just said the same in his comment. I knew that they only appeared on young red maples but didn’t know that they were caused by cankers. Now you have given the canker a name that I can look up and learn more about, so thank you for that. I’ll have to look a little closer at yellow birches, too. Thanks again.
Another great post with several interesting finds, the blue gray and toadskin lichens to name just two.
It’s funny, you find trees with shallow root systems because the trees are growing in a thin layer of topsoil on rock. Around here, I find blown over trees with shallow root systems because the trees are growing in a thin layer of topsoil over soil too wet for the trees to send their roots into. That says a lot about the differences between New Hampshire and southern Michigan. 😉
That sign doesn’t look very old to me, just a year or two at the most, but I could be wrong. However, it does show how even the most observant people can overlook the obvious at times. I’ve done the same thing myself, and wondered how I could have missed something that I’ve walked past hundreds of times.
I hope that you’re not running short of mountains to climb, because I’m really enjoying these posts. With your photos of the views, I get to see the views without having to exert the effort of the climb. 😉
Thanks Jerry!
That’s interesting that your tree roots won’t penetrate the wet soil. I’m guessing that it is probably clay. Our soil here is mostly gravel based and roots can get quite far down into it. The differences are interesting and I wonder why the two places are so different. Glaciers, I’ll bet.
I thought that sign looked freshly painted too. That’s the story I’ll stick with,anyway!
No, if there’s one thing I’ll never run out of here it is mountains and hills. They go on and on as far as the eye can see and you couldn’t climb them all in two lifetimes, but I’ll keep trying.
You are in way better shape to even attempt these climbs and must not be directionally challenged like I am either. I loved your comment about stopping to observe something while you catch your breath. I’m always grateful when there is a window midway in a steep flight of steps so I can pause and look out and not seem so obvious. 🙂 Here’s to a great 2015 and many more adventures for you and good reading for those of us not so nimble.
Thank you Judy. I’m really not in great shape and part of the reason I do so much climbing is because I’m hoping to get myself in better shape. It takes a lot of climbing to melt off the pounds!
I don’t consider myself that good with directions either but I don’t get lost so maybe I’m better than I think. I still don’t stray too far off the trails though, if I can help it. That isn’t a good idea when you’re alone out there.
I do have to stop occasionally to catch my breath but I usually see something interesting when I do, so I can understand your delight at finding a window in a stairway!
I hope you have a great New year as well!
Fascinating lichen!
They are, but they sure aren’t easy to get to!
P.S. The above should read ‘blacksmith hewn”. Apologies for my poor spelling, and the rather careless corrections by auto-spellchecker; I would not wish to offend the blacksmiths in your reading audience with our sincerely unintended ignorance. 🙂
Thanks Sven, it happens to the best of us. My grandfather was a blacksmith and I’m sure he’d forgive you!
A worthwhile climb, indeed. I have never been there but shall one day based on your photos.
The chiseled graffiti is an eyesore.
It’s interesting how some of it, the truly old stuff, takes on a rather nostalgic air; we can envision suited and derbied men, with blacksmith-hued mallet and chisel, chipping the family name of their parasolled and petticoated paramour atop the mountain on a perfect spring afternoon.
The reality is more like a whip-smart teen and his school-skipping cronies, smoking hand-rolled fags and drinking cheap muscatel, dungarees loaded with their fathers’ stolen tools, seeing who can carve the largest letters–letters so obnoxiously deep that they can be spied by every passing aeroplane, for eternity.
Thank you for your astonishing photos. I peruse every one with care and attention. Sven.
Thank you Sven. I hope you do get to climb Mount Caesar one day.
I’ve seen many old photos of the very people you’ve described standing on mountain tops and you’re right, I can’t remember any of them carrying a hammer and chisel. I’ve always thought that things like this were done by teenagers. I did some things that I wasn’t proud of as a teen but luckily they weren’t anything permanent like these carvings are, so the world doesn’t know that I was once an idiot. The person who did this carving can’t say that.
The ring pattern on Red Maple bark had be puzzled, too. At some point, (possibly in A Guide to Nature in Winter by Stokes), I learned about target cankers. Michael Wojtech, the author of Bark: A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast, writes, “In this region, the perennial target canker – a series of concentric cracks in the outer bark – is found exclusively on red maple, though not on every tree.” (source: http://northernwoodlands.org/articles/article/getting-to-know-bark)
Thank you for all your sharing and Happy New Year!
Thanks Josh. I have Bark: A Field Guide to Trees of the Northeast and I could have sworn that I saw the answer to the puzzle of the maple bark rings in it but when I went back to it for this post I couldn’t find it. I’m glad to know that my memory isn’t totally shot!
I didn’t remember him saying that it was caused by a canker though, so thank you for that. It makes a lot more sense now.
Happy New Year to you and yours as well!
Oh, yes-target canker. I was close.
You made me smile Allen, I find myself stopping far more frequently nowadays as well. I’m just “admiring the view” I tell myself but of course I’m really having a rest. Having said that, as I tend to walk circular routes rather than there and back, stopping to look backwards is a good idea as I sometimes see things that I missed looking forward.
Thanks Jim. I actually thought of you up there when I realized how close I had gotten to the cliff edge and felt my stomach flying away.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who has to stop and rest. It must come with age, rather than what we did when we were young.
It’s very true that we miss much. I’m always surprised by what I find on paths that I’ve traveled many times.
I can’t imagine how many spores they had to collect for a flash! I have never understood defacing objects. I’ve seen it all over, on rocks, covered bridges anywhere they think they can be immortalized. It is bad enough in the city, but downright ugly in nature.
Thanks Laura. I’ve heard that they used to cut off the tops and dry them on newspapers and then shake out the spores. I’m sure millions of plants died because of it.
I carved my initials into the bark of a tree once and felt bad for doing that, so it’s hard for me to figure out someone carrying a hammer and chisel all the way to the top of a mountain. I agree-it is ugly.
Again a brilliant walk… and the toadskin lichen is so real….I have lots of toads in the garden I prefer them to frogs …less jumpy… 🙂
Thanks Sue. Toads seem like the wise old sages of the forest and they really are less jumpy. I’ll bet your garden has very few damaging insects in it too.
You make your walks so interesting and illustrate them so well, It is always a pleasure to follow you. Your grandmother seems to have been everything that a grandmother should be, passing on her knowledge to later generations. How terrible to have such a disastrous fall when you were a teenager, were you laid up for ages?
Thank you Susan. My grandmother gave me a love of nature that has lasted all of my life, and I can’t think of a greater gift.
Yes, after falling out of the tree I was in a body cast from my neck to my waist for 10 weeks. That was another lesson I never forgot and I haven’t climbed a tree since.