For years, at least since I was a teenager, I’ve known about this blocked off road in Swanzey, New Hampshire. Though I’ve known for all that time that the road led into Yale forest I never knew why or where it ended up, so I decided to walk it recently and find out. Old abandoned roads can be fascinating places because you never know what you’ll find along them.
The forest is called Yale Forest because it is owned by Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Yale founded a School of Forestry & Environmental Studies in 1900 and owns parcels of forest all over New England. Alumni donated land to the school or it was bought and sometimes even traded, and over time good sized pieces of forest were put together. The first land was bought by the school in 1913 but this particular parcel dates from the 1920s or 30s. It is 1,930 acres in size.
The road was once called Dartmouth College Road because if you followed in north far enough, that’s where you would have ended up. When the State Department of Transportation built what is now route 10 this section of road was abandoned and from what I gather by talking to the county forester and others, was taken over by Yale University. I’m not sure exactly how it worked but apparently, since they owned the land on both sides of the road it became theirs when it was abandoned by the state. In any event it is now considered a private road but Yale University is very good about letting locals use the forest for hiking and biking. Even their website says that the forest has a “park like atmosphere.”
A forestry school can’t train foresters in proper forest management without a forest, so this is one of the places where they come to train, and part of that training includes how to maintain healthy woodlands. This parcel is mostly red and white pine that was planted or seeded naturally after the hurricane of 1938 blew down many of the trees that stood here, so none of it is original old growth forest.
Stone walls crisscross everywhere you look and speak of the history of this place. At one time, in the 1800s most likely, this land was cleared for pasture and, judging by the rolling landscape and huge boulders, was probably used for sheep farming. Land like this wouldn’t have been any good for cattle and sheep farming was big business back then. Most of our hills and even Mount Monadnock were cleared right to their summits to create more pasture.
I’ve been on a few abandoned roads and what struck me most about this one was how wide it is. It’s as if the forest had hardly encroached on it at all in the 85 or more years that a car hasn’t traveled on it. Then I saw why; as the above photo shows, the mat of vegetation that grew into the road has been plowed back into the woods to maintain the road’s original width.
And it’s a fair bet that this log skidder did the plowing. It must seem to a logger like he has died and gone to heaven to have a paved road to travel on. Usually they’re up to their waists in mud.
Apple trees are dotted here and there along the old roadway. Apple blossoms always remind me of my grandmother because I remember as a boy running up her stairs with near arm loads of apple blossoms because she loved their scent so. Of course, every blossom that I ran up those stairs with meant one less apple but those trees were more decorative than anything, and what a show they put on in the spring!
Starflowers (Trientalis borealis) carpeted the woods just off the roadway. I have a contest with myself each year to see if I can find the starflower plant with the most flowers. This one had three, but my record is four and I’m always hoping for five. Starflowers are a plant based on sevens; seven leaves, seven petals, seven sepals and seven stamens, but just to be different it can occasionally have eight petals like two of the flowers in this photo do, and I’ve seen photos of them with six petals. That’s just to remind me that always and never don’t apply in nature. These flowers don’t produce nectar so they are pollinated by pollen eating insects like halictid and andrenid bees.
Bluets (Houstonia caerulea) grew all along the sides of the road where it was sunny enough. Though this tiny wildflower is thought to be a spring ephemeral I’ve seen it bloom all summer long. I think it got the reputation for being an ephemeral because it often grows in lawns and once the lawn is mowed you don’t see the flowers any longer.
Beavers are active in these woods and dammed a small stream and made a pond, which then formed an outlet that ran across the old road and washed it out. I could tell that the road was here before the beavers dammed the stream by a stone wall that ran right into the beaver pond. The farmer never would have built his wall into the pond and under the water, so the beavers must have come later than the wall. The foresters have put these heavy, two inch thick planks over the washout to use as a temporary bridge.
The beaver lodge looked abandoned and I didn’t see any signs of fresh tree felling. Beaver ponds are active for an average of 30 years and the first stage in creating one is damming a stream to form a pond. Our native trees aren’t meant to live with their roots under water because they take in a lot of oxygen through them, so finding living trees in an area like this would mean it was flooded recently. I didn’t see any, so this must be an older pond. Older beaver ponds fill with silt or the beavers move away and their dams erode enough to drain the land. In either case the beaver pond of today will eventually revert back to forest. When the forest has re-established itself and there are enough trees for the beavers to eat they will come back and again flood the land in a slow but ever repeating cycle.
The dam was still holding back water for the most part, but didn’t show any signs of recent activity on the part of the beavers.
Meanwhile, even though the beavers have moved away from their pond, many other kinds of wildlife still benefit from it. This one was shallow enough so all that a pair of mallards had to do was stick their heads in to feed, rather than tip their entire body up like they often do. They knew I was near and eyed me suspiciously but didn’t fly away like ducks usually seem to do. He watched me while she fed, just in case.
She spent most of the time feeding and I got shot after shot of a headless duck, but eventually was finally able to at least get her profile when she began preening. She was such a pretty bird.
I was surprised by how small the logs were. The biggest and oldest at the bottom I doubt was even 50 years old. I wonder where they go and what becomes of them once they leave here.
You can tell by the trees left standing that the foresters are being very selective in what they cut, and are thinning the forest rather than cutting everything in sight. This kind of care benefits the overall health of a forest, especially since we no longer dare let forest fires burn themselves out. We have 4.8 million acres of forest In New Hampshire and a hundred years ago much of it was cleared for pasture land, so we are an excellent example of how nature reclaims the land. Man and nature can work together for the benefit of both, but it takes great care, thought and planning.
Several trees had these “killer tree” ribbons on them and of course, me being me, I had to find out what they were all about. From what I’ve read they warn loggers that the tree is dead, diseased or has some other condition that might cause it to fall. It essentially says “stay away because this tree could fall on you.” Of course I found all of that out after standing five feet from the killer trees, taking their photos.
One tree I’m always happy to get close to is striped maple (Acer pensylvanicum,) especially when it is flowering. The yellowish green bell shaped flowers are quite small, only about 1/4 inch across. Trees can have male, female or both kinds of flowers. The loose hanging flower clusters (racemes) usually hang under the leaves but will occasionally rest on top of a leaf like this one did. They sway in the slightest breeze and can be difficult to get a good photo of.
Wild sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis) grows all through our forests and is a common sight. The plant sets flower buds quickly just as its leaves have unfurled, and often before they’ve changed from their early deep bronze to green. People sometimes confuse the plant for poison ivy before the flowers appear because of the “leaves of three” as in leaves of three, let them be. One easy way to tell the difference is by looking for a woody stem; poison ivy has one but this plant does not.
In botanical terms the flower head of a wild sarsaparilla plant is called a globoid umbel. The umbel is made up of around 40 small white flowers that seem to burst from the center on long, pale green stalks (pedicels). The flowers have five petals but I find them too small to be seen by eye. Dark purple berries will replace the flowers if pollination is successful, and pollination is usually very successful; every time I’ve taken a photo of a wild sarsaparilla plant there has been an insect on it. This time is no different; I’m not sure what he is but he’s black and tiny and rests about two flowers above center at 12 o’clock.
Common blue violets (Viola sororia) lined the old road along with the bluets and starflowers and made the walk that much more pleasant.
I wondered where the old road came out but wasn’t too surprised to find myself on the edge of the “new” route 10. This is the road that replaced the abandoned one way back in the 20s or 30s. It’s a busy road and I had to stand here for a while to get a shot of it with no cars on it.
Just a short walk down route 10 from where the old road meets the new is one of my favorite views that I’ve driven past and seen out of the corner of my eye for over 20 years. Now I know what’s on the other side of it in the distance; a beaver pond. Amazing what you can discover with just a little persistence.
Note: The photos for this post were taken over the course of a month or more, so if you think everything is a little greener at the end of the post than it was at the beginning, you’re not imagining it.
There are roads known by everyone and there are roads known by no one. Choose the second, the mysterious one where many glories are hidden. ~Mehmet Murat ildan
Thanks for coming by.
I am the guy who worked that road in the pictures. We plowed the road with the bulldozer in early early spring when we still had snow. Great pictures!
Thanks!
That’s interesting. It must have been quite a job considering all the snow we got last February.
I’ve got a new post about Yale Forest coming up on Wednesday 1/13 that you might be interested in. I spent a few hours out there last weekend.
It was a decent job. Hard terrain to work and a lot of low grade thinning as you guessed
Yes, I walked the hillside cuts and saw a lot of stony ground.
This was an intriguing post on many levels. The wildlife shots of the ducks are wonderful and the thought of “Killer Trees” with signs on them made me chuckle. As always, you see the little things that the rest of us hurry by. The quote sums it all up perfectly!
Thank you Martha! I slow down and look for those little things when I’m in the woods. I don’t think there’s any other way to see them.
What a lovely walk. I do like a new trail but I’m glad none of the killer trees got you.
Me too! I didn’t see a single one of them move an inch.
Fabulous walk Allen! I loved it all – the history of the road, the flowers and trees, the ducks and the information about forestry and beavers. I’m with your grandmother in loving the beautiful rose scent of apple-blossom.
Thank you Clare, I’m glad you liked it. I spent a lot of time as a boy with my nose in bouquets of apple blossoms, so I don’t think I’ll ever forget their wonderful scent!
What a lovely grandson you were! I love the scent of apple blossom and go and stand under our trees when they are blossoming and inhale all I can. Our blossom didn’t last long this year because of the high wind and heavy rain. We’ll be lucky if we get many apples.
That’s too bad about your apple trees. I don’t know if we’ll have many apples either because we’re in a drought and almost all flowers seem to be blooming early and passing quickly. I’m sure nature will sort it out, but it’s awfully dry right now.
How unfortunate, especially after all the snow and ice you had over the winter. The weather is very unpredictable and strange at present.
Yes, it sure is!
So much to learn. And I love the quotation. 🙂
Yes, there was a lot to learn on this post. I like that quotation too. It’s pretty much what I’ve done throughout life!
We have a lot of discontinued or controlled access roads here in the National Forests and they are usually wonderful places to hike or bike on. I enjoy seeing the plant and animal life along those in your area.
I like seeing those roads on your blog too. Most look very different than what we have here.
Awesome post on so many levels! I liked your explanation of the process that happens when beavers move into an area, then eventually out again.
In nature, nothing is static, but change is often at a pace so slow that humans never notice the changes. However, sometimes the changes happen quickly, like the hurricane of 1938 there in New Hampshire, or tornadoes in the midwest, not to mention fires.
The trees grow back again, I’m old enough now to have seen the same areas logged twice. It isn’t a pretty sight after the loggers are done, but in just a few years, the trees are well on their way again.
In some respects, responsible forest management actually benefits most wildlife by speeding up what occurs naturally by providing more varied habitats in a shorter time frame. That’s something I hope that they teach the students, along with other ways that they can help wildlife in their practices.
Thanks Jerry!
That’s true, people who aren’t familiar with how forests work can get upset when they see trees being cut, not understanding that it’s good for the forest. And as you point out, it benefits animals in many ways, like creating more browse for deer and moose.
I’ve talked to a couple of foresters and they seem pretty up on how what they do affects both wildlife and humans. I think they choose that career because they love nature just as much as we do.
I’ve been on enough of these old roads to know that we aren’t ever going to stop nature. Even pavement doesn’t stop it for long! The trees will indeed grow back.
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LOOKS LIKE THE ONLY ROAD ON EARTH.CREEPY!!!!
No, not creepy. Interesting.
It’s a treat to see plants/flowers we don’t have around here. We’re in the transitioning to summer.
I was just telling Jason that the USDA says that starflowers grow in Illinois, but I don’t know about the rest of them.
We’re not in summer yet but it has been hot. Now tonight they say we could see a frost!
Wonderful post. Glad you weren’t harmed by the killer trees! The starflowers are beautiful, I had never heard of them. It is odd to think that so much land in the northeast has reverted to forest. I suppose one reason is that the land once occupied by prairie was so much more productive once plowed.
Thanks! Our woods are full of starflowers right now and according to the USDA website they grow in Illinois. I think they’d be very easy to grow, though I’ve never tried.
Our land went back to forest when farmers stopped farming. Land was much cheaper and you could grow more on it and produce more meat on it in the west and mid west, and once the railroads came along it was easy to ship it all back east. All that equaled no need for farmers.
Good to see some sustainable forestry management in operation. Most of ours get clear felled and have to start again from scratch.
I was thinking of how they cut all of your trees at once when I was walking through here. I can’t think of anything that would be much more dramatic than that.
NHG, Your post always fascinates me. New Hampshire is a kind of “foreign” place to me as I’ve never been even close to it. Your examples of stone walls that were built who knows how many years ago–by farmers!–always captivates me. It’s all a “who knew?!” to me.
While this has little to do with your post today, nevertheless, it is forefront in my mind: There’s a building in the heart of downtown Chicago called the “Monadnock Building”. Years ago I used to pass by it and wonder who in the world could be “Monadnock”! On first reading your post, I found there’s a mountain in your area so named. I imagine that someone from or related to your area in New Hampshire must have eventually settled in Chicago long enough to name that building and perhaps long for New Hampshire? .
Many times I read your post I think of the difference(s) between New Hampshire and downtown Chicago. I haven’t searched all that long, but a brief look does not give me any clue between New Hampshire and the “busy-ness” of Chicago. (Was the building as high as your mountain? is a tho’t that comes to mind.) There must be some connection between that building and your mountain–at least I find myself wondering about that.
I always find your post filled with life I never imagined existed, some of which I prefer more, some less, but all of it fascinating. Your post today is a wonder of the wonders in nature and the cycle that repeats itself slowly but relentlessly. MCS
Thank you Mary. I’m happy to hear that you enjoy these posts. If you looked up Monadnock in a dictionary you’d find that it means “an isolated hill or ridge or erosion-resistant rock rising above a peneplain, ” and that is supposed to be the original Native American meaning as well. In plain English it means a single hill or mountain rising above a flat plain, so maybe when your Monadnock building was built it was the only building in the area that rose above the flat land. It would certainly be interesting to find out. I love digging into things like that!
It’s fascinating to think of the landscape in historical terms, Allen, as you do so wonderfully in this posting. The landscape changes as men take actions, like clearing the land for pasture or planting trees afterwards; or animals take actions, like the beaver making changes that affect the ecosystem; or nature takes action and reclaims land on its own. It’s complex and exciting to think in those broader terms about what is right in front of us.
Thanks Mike. Yes, forests are forever changing but the changes usually happen so slowly that we don’t notice. I look at responsible forestry as doing what forest fires used to, but on a smaller scale. It’s good for a forest to lose a few trees so those that are left can grow on to their full potential. Being against cutting any tree for any reason shows a lack of knowledge of how a forest works, and isn’t being realistic.
Love your closing quote!Forestry management is so important to the future of the planet. Even though I heat with wood, we are always careful when selecting which trees to cut and which ones to let grow and thrive. Have you ever come across a beaver hut that was on “reclaimed” ground? One you could walk to without sinking past your knees?
Thanks Laura. I agree, sensible forest management is very important and cutting every tree in sight isn’t very sensible.
I never have found a beaver lodge that I could walk on but I’d like to! It seems like it would be kind of like trying to walk on a brush pile though.
Walking through the woods and coming across a place like the one captured in your last photo has always evoked a sense of wonder.
I agree. It has a very wilderness feel to it and is one of my favorite scenes.
What a walk! Beautiful and diversified. The logs will most probably go to one of the various papermills NH is not so poor of.
Thank you Zyriacus. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the logs ended up at a paper mill, or possibly a sawdust mill where they’re milled into finer material for wood pellets. They won’t be wasted, that’s for certain.
Thank you for putting several days of photography together to make such an interesting post. I loved the violets particularly.
You’re welcome Susan. I think you’d like it out there. There were violets everywhere.