The last time I visited the deep cut rail trail that was once part of the northern branch of the Cheshire Railroad there were huge columns of ice hanging from the walls of the manmade canyon. These ice columns start to melt in the spring and can sometimes fall into the trail. Since they’re big enough to crush a person I stay away from this, one of my favorite places, until I’m sure they’ve melted. Though we’ve had a cool May I was sure they had melted by last Sunday, so off I went.
Right off I noticed something disturbing; a rock half the size of a Volkswagen Beetle had fallen from the face of the canyon. Particularly disturbing was how it fell right into the drainage ditch, which is where I am when I want to get close to the liverworts and other plants that grow on these walls. Thoughts of tons of stone whistling 50 feet down through the air certainly captured my attention for a while. It’s going to take a lot more than muscle and pry bars to move this one. I’m not sure that a backhoe could even move it.
As I walked around the stone I saw that more than one had fallen, and when they fell they took down a yellow birch tree about 6 inches across, which someone had cut up. The New Hampshire chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club comes here to train in rock and ice climbing and I hope there wasn’t anyone near here when all of this fell. If anyone were to be hit by even the smallest stone I doubt they would have survived.
Rocks fall here regularly because of the constantly seeping groundwater. In the winter it freezes, and when it freezes the ice in the many fissures inside the stone expands enough to fracture it into pieces, which eventually succumb to gravity. This year there is a lot of groundwater seeping through; all the cliff faces were wet, as the above photo shows. Of course, the plants love it.
Three or four years ago a stream appeared out of nowhere and has run down the rock face ever since, winter and summer. It’s a good thing the railroad dug wide drainage ditches along this section of rail bed, otherwise the place would be flooded and impassable from so much water constantly pouring in. The ditches have kept the rail bed dry for nearly 150 years now.
Apparently I’ve been walking right by mountain maple trees (Acer spicatum) all of my life without realizing it, but now all of the sudden I’m seeing them everywhere I go. That could be because they’re flowering now, and these trees flower like no other maple. All other maple trees have flowers that hang down but mountain maple’s flower clusters stand upright, above the leaves. At a glance the big leaves look much like striped maple leaves (Acer pensylvanicum) and I think that’s why I haven’t noticed them; I didn’t look closely. The shrub like tree is a good indicator of moist soil which leans toward the alkaline side of neutral. Native Americans made an infusion of the pith of the young twigs to use as eye drops to soothe eyes irritated by campfire smoke, and the large leaves were packed around apples and root crops to help preserve them.
There might be plenty of fruit to snack on later. Wild strawberries (Fragaria virginiana) bloomed all along the trail but many types of wildlife eat the berries, so I doubt I’ll get any. Wild strawberry is one of two species of strawberry (Fragaria virginiana and Fragaria chiloensis) that were hybridized to create the modern strawberry. Strawberries were an important food for Native Americans and they made a cold tea of mashed strawberries, strawberry juice, water and sassafras tea to drink at their strawberry moon festivals in spring. For that reason it was called strawberry moon tea.
Up ahead a big red maple had fallen across the trail and its top had caught on the opposite rim of the canyon. There are many people who ride and walk along this trail and I hoped there wasn’t anyone near it when it fell. Once again I was dismayed to notice that, same as the stone had, the tree’s butt end fell right into the drainage ditch.
The maple had broken off about 6 feet up its trunk, probably in a good wind. Bark was missing and that’s a good sign that it had died some time before.
Foamflowers (Tiarella cordifolia) grow here by the hundreds but I was surprised to see them because I’ve never noticed them before. I’m guessing that I’ve never come here when many of the plants I saw on this day were blooming. With such a huge variety of plants all growing together it’s a simple thing to miss a leaf or two, even when walking at a toddler’s pace. Before long many of the plants here, like tall meadow rue (Thalictrum dasycarpum,) will be shoulder high.
What I think are marsh blue violets (Viola cucullata) grow here by the thousands and I was glad that I got here when they were blooming because it was quite a sight. The 5 petaled flowers stand above the leaves on tallish (6-7”) stems and can be violet, dark blue and sometimes white, They are said to be darker at their center, as these were. Many Native American tribes used violets medicinally for everything from stomach pain to swollen joints. A blue dye was also made from the plants, used to dye arrow shafts blue.
When I look up at the rim of this manmade canyon I don’t think about falling stones or trees; I think about how lucky I am to have found a place so beautiful, where nearly every surface is covered with plants of all kinds. I think of the Shangri-La that James Hilton wrote about in Lost Horizon, and imagine that I’ve found it. As a boy I dreamed of being a plant hunter in distant jungles, and this is the closest I’ve ever been able to come. I’ve found many plants here that I’ve never seen anywhere else.
Though it is called green algae a carotenoid pigment in the alga cells called hematochrome or beta- carotene, which is the same pigment that gives carrots their orange color, hides the green chlorophyll of the algae called Trentepohlia aurea. It is one of the things I found here that I can’t see anywhere else and is one of the reasons I put on my rubber boots and walk in the drainage ditches. Up close it is surprisingly hairy. I keep hoping I’ll see it producing spores but I haven’t yet.
Another plant I’ve never seen anywhere else is the eastern swamp saxifrage (Saxifraga pensylvanica.) In fact this day was the only time I’ve ever seen it, and I think the only reason I saw it at all was because it happened to be flowering. The thick, three foot tall flower stalk is covered in sticky hairs and terminates in several flower clusters. The flowers aren’t really anything to write home about; they’re small and greenish with petals that can be green, white or yellow, and rarely purple. One plant has a single flower stem and both black bears and deer love to eat it. I know there are deer here so I was lucky to see it.
The big leaves of swamp saxifrage are in a basal rosette, each about 9 inches long and 3 inches wide, widest at or above the middle, with a blunt or sharp point at the tip, tapering at the base, on a short reddish stalk. The leaves and flower stalk are edible and the Native American Cherokee tribe ate the young leaves as salad greens. They also used the plant’s roots in a poultice to treat muscle soreness.
Another plant that grows here that I’ve never seen anywhere else is wild chervil (Anthriscus sylvestris.) At least I think it is wild chervil; so many plants in the carrot family look alike. Some call it Queen Anne’s lace on steroids but its fern like leaves don’t look anything like queen Anne’s lace leaves to me. This plant is thought to have been introduced to North America from Europe in wildflower seed mixes. It has been growing in this area since the early 1900s and is considered a noxious weed in many places. Oddly, some of those places are very cold, like Alaska, Iceland and Greenland. It makes sense that it would like this place then, because it gets very cold in winter and has ice columns that grow to unbelievable proportions. Wild chervil contains chemical compounds which have been reported to have anti-tumor and anti-viral properties against human cancer cells. It is an entirely different species than cultivated chervil, which is an herb used for flavoring soups.
Mosses of every description grow to cover huge areas of the vertical walls because of all the water available. It makes the place seem even more like a lush, verdant paradise.
A little violet grew alone on a ledge where it would be constantly watered by the splashing water. I never knew that violets liked so much water, but I guess names like marsh violet should have been a clue. I’ve even seen them growing in standing water this year.
A dandelion also grew on a ledge near splashing water. I wondered how this plant, which has a long tap root, could grow on a stone that was covered by maybe a half inch of soil.
The beautiful great scented liverworts (Conocephalum conicum) like to grow in places where they are constantly splashed by or dripped on by very clean ground water. I was surprised last winter to see that many of the plants had turned gray and appeared to be dying. On this day when I walked in the drainage ditch to get close enough for photos I noticed an odor rising from the water with each step, as if it were stagnant, and now I wonder if something in the water is killing them off. Even those that show new growth appear much smaller than in previous visits.
This is the only place I’ve ever seen this beautiful plant so I hope I’m wrong about what I’m seeing. Without knowing much about them it’s hard to say. What I’m seeing could be a natural phase of their life cycle. At least that’s what I’m hoping. I’d hate to see them disappear because they are one of the things that make this place so very special. Their amazing scent is where their common name comes from; if you squeeze a piece and smell it you smell something so clean and fresh scented you’ll wish it came in a spray bottle.
The photos of the liverworts were taken quickly, rushed because in the back of my mind there were thoughts of things falling from the cliff wall I was standing under at the time. I later stood at what is left of the old lineman’s shack thinking about that but knowing that though there may be danger here, I’d be coming back. For me this is a place of wonder and bliss, a place like no other I know, and I can’t just abandon it because of something that could happen someday. What I can do though, is stay out of the drainage ditches. That I probably will do, but we’ll see.
Life is inherently risky. There is only one big risk you should avoid at all costs, and that is the risk of doing nothing. ~Denis Waitley
Thanks for stopping in.
Forever changes.
Yes, nothing stays the same!
An educational tour of your very beautiful area in late spring, Allen. The thought of falling rock is not a pleasant one, given even small falling rocks can seriously hurt one. Trees can be equally deadly. I remember hiking a trail back east and coming across a large diameter maple that had cracked off at the roots and blown over in a bad windstorm. I would not have wanted to be coming down the trail then!
I hope the scented liverworts are alright. The stagnant smelling water is not a good sign. Hopefully it will pass.
Thank you Lavinia. Yes, a walk in the woods can be a bit of a gamble in certain places but it’s always worth it to me.
I’m hoping the liverworts are going through a natural phase that I just haven’t seen before.I’ll be checking on them again before too long.
It always makes me feel quite uneasy when I notice changes to places I know and love. The vast boulder and the tree in the drainage ditch and the possibly struggling scented liverwort along with the stagnant water smell are changes for the worse. I hope these are only temporary problems and you will be able to continue visiting this lovely place and finding all the beautiful plants for many years to come. It is also interesting that you have also discovered new plants there too. Perhaps this is a good omen?
Thank you Clare. I expect to see changes in the landscape but these did make me a little uneasy, so I know what you mean. I hope they’re only temporary too. I can’t imagine what’s making the water smell like it does but it’s impossible to know all the things it must touch before it reaches this place. There might have been a dead animal far upstream.
New plants are always a surprise, but especially when I find that I’ve been walking right by them for years. I hope seeing all of these was a good omen. Maybe it means I’ll see even more.
Perhaps the presence of the tree and boulder in the drainage ditch is enough for the water to become slower in its movement and in the warmer weather to start to smell different?
Possibly, but it was moving right along where the liverworts were. Since I smelled the odor each time I took a step it was more like the odor came from the bottom of the ditch rather than the water itself . As you can imagine there is a lot of plant debris falling into the ditches, so maybe it’s a natural thing that I’ve just never noticed before.
It could be. As you say, this might be something that happens every year at this stage.
Yes, and I obviously miss a lot that happens there!
This is one of my favorite hikes (of yours), as well, Allen…I love seeing it, all year long. Thank you for the insightful narrative…and for continuing to return to a place you love.
You’re welcome Scott, and thank you. It’s hard to stay away from that place for long.
I would encourage you to keep visiting there…. 🙂
[…] Read this mindfully attentive exploration of a very interesting place: A Favorite Place Revisited […]
Love the masses of marsh violets. For such a peaceful place sounds like you need to keep an eye out for danger.
Yes, gravity makes walking through there difficult at times.
I wonder how much noise there would be to give you a warning when a rock or tree were about to fall. I often walk along a path subject to small landslides and tree falls and perhaps naively think that there would be time to run if the worst happened.
I heard a tree fall off in the forest one day and all I heard was the loud impact when it hit the ground. I think it would happen so fast you’d never know what hit you.
There is something called a “splat calculator” that says that a 250 kilo stone falling 15 meters would give you 1.75 seconds to get out of the way.
Splat calculator: https://www.angio.net/personal/climb/speed.html
That is indeed a place to be cherished and you are fortunate to have it close to you!
Thanks Montucky, I think so too!
I enjoy all your posts and look forward to each one, but I really identified with this post in particular, for the railway connection. I regularly walk the PPJ Cycloparc Trail (previously the Pontiac Pacific Junction Railway) here in Quebec, Canada. The vegetation and landscape in my neck of the woods is quite similar to yours in New Hampshire. Being further south, your flowerings, of course, occur a bit earlier, so I get a nice preview of things to come through your blog. As well, my dad worked as a lineman during the 1930s when he was just a teenager, so anything concerning railways past are of interest to me. Anything that sends me to memories of him is good. 🙂
Thank you. I grew up close enough to the railroad tracks to have the house shake whenever a train went by, so it’s in my blood too.
I find it interesting that we have many of the same plants growing in each place. I read a few western blogs and many plants here in the U.S. had their spread stopped by the Mississippi River. I don’t suppose there are really many barriers from north to south.
If you’d like to see the train that once ran through here just type “Flying Yankee” into the search box in the upper right corner of this blog. It might bring back even more memories of your dad!
Same here! My house shook when the train went by, as well. I loved it! And one of my fondest activities as a kid was walking up the track, exploring all the wonders nature had to offer … and jumping into the ditch when a train came along. You could feel the ground shake, so there was usually plenty of warning. Hahaha. Good memories!
I Googled “Flying Yankee” … sweet train. 🙂 Here’s the Wikipedia article on the PPJ. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontiac_Pacific_Junction_Railway
I have a fondness for New Hampshire too. Back in the late 1970s, I did quite a bit of hiking in the White Mountains. Mount Madison is particularly memorable. Are you located in that area?
Keep up the wonderful work on your blog. Your postings are always well and interestingly written, and your photos are superb.
Earleen
Thanks very much. I would have loved to ride on Engine No. 4!
I looked out the window one day to see the train that was going by but there was no train because we were having an earthquake!
I loved walking the tracks too and still do, even though the actual tracks aren’t there.
I’m far south of the White Mountains, near the Massachusetts border in the south western corner of the state. I haven’t been up to see them in quite a while. I should correct that some day.
I always love your pictures of liverworts, which I knew almost nothing about before following this blog. I wonder if these great scented liverworts were impacted the drought last year? – Susan
Thank you. I don’t really have any way of knowing for sure but I’d guess that the drought must have had some impact. Great scented liverworts have to have plenty of good clean water so maybe that’s it. I hope that’s what it was so they’ll grow back to the way they were. They’re getting plenty of water this year!
Fabulous photos and descriptions, Allen! The group I hike with is going to the Mason Rail Trail on Monday morning. The magical Mason Quarry is about 1/2 mile off the trail and I know you would love it. Any chance you can make it?
Thank you Paula. I’m afraid I’ll be working pn Monday but I think you’ve shown me photos of that place and I know I’d love it. Quarries are great places for plant hunting.
The (relatively) new job I have in Hancock has added two hours to my work day so I barely even have enough time to put this blog together now, but once I retire I hope to have all the time in the world!
I hope you are able to retire soon!
Not for about 5 years but they’ll pass quickly, I’m sure!
Yes, they will. I’m really enjoying retirement!
I can tell!
Like you, I wouldn’t wanted to around when wither the boulder or the tree fell! I hope the boulder doesn’t cause problems being in the drainage ditch. What a special place it is! LOVE the quote!
Thanks Laura. I think that boulder has plugged the drainage ditch. It’ll have to be moved somehow. At least there is a way to get heavy equipment in there.
I’ve never seen anything but ice fall in there but it happens a lot. There are stones everywhere that have come off the ledges, but most aren’t as big as these.
Reblogged this on Poltrack Pix and commented:
Wow, what a place, great photos
Thank you John. If you ever get a chance to see this place you’d probably enjoy it.
I liked your quote, it made me laugh. I am sure that you are careful when walking along such a trail, presumably whatever is falling makes a noise as it comes down.
Thank you Susan. Yes, I’m sure whatever fell would make a noise but you would only have a second or two to get out of its way so I stay pretty alert in there.