It was a beautiful sunny, spring like 40 degree day last Saturday when I set off down a favorite leg of the Ashuelot Rail Trail in Swanzey. Every time I come here I discover something I haven’t seen here before and today was no different. In fact I saw many things that I’ve walked right by on previous trips. That’s why John Burroughs said “To find new things, take the path you took yesterday,” and that’s why I follow the same trails again and again. Though I’ve traveled them many times I know that I haven’t seen half what is on them.
There were lots of beech trees along this section of trail and their dry leaves shivered and whispered softly in the light breeze. Soon they will begin to fall and make room for new leaves.
These berries had me scratching my head for a minute until I realized that the large shrub they grew on was privet. A homeowner who lived along the rail trail had long ago planted a privet hedge and then never trimmed it so the hedge grew to about ten feet tall, and it was covered with berries that the birds weren’t eating. That’s a good thing because privet is considered invasive. This is one of those things that I’ve walked by fifty times but haven’t seen.
One of my reasons to come here was to see the old trestle that crosses the Ashuelot River. There has been a lot of talk about ice jams and I wanted to see what the ice looked like out here in a place you can’t drive to.
Dark purple-brown frullania liverworts decorated a young oak tree. This liverwort is an epiphytic plant, which means it takes nothing from the trees that it grows on. I think of them being like a bird; they simply perch on trees in spots where they get the moisture and light that they need. They are easiest to see in winter when the cold darkens them.
There are about 800 species of this liverwort so identification can be difficult but this is the one that I most often see, with tiny leaves that are strung together like beads. Some frullania liverworts are said to be very fragrant but I keep forgetting to smell them.
A heavily fruiting lichen grew right next to the liverwort on the oak tree. I see this lichen quite often but I’ve never been satisfied with any identification I’ve come up with so far. I thought it might be rosy saucer lichen until my color finding software told me that its many apothecia were brown instead of rosy. For those who don’t know lichens, the apothecia are the round, rimmed fruiting bodies where this lichen’s spores are produced.
An old railroad marker had slowly tilted until it had fallen almost all the way over but its “W” was still visible, highlighted in snow. The W stands for whistle and the post is called a whistle post, because it marks the spot where the locomotive engineer was to blow the train’s whistle. There is a crossing very nearby where the railbed crosses a road, and the whistle would have alerted wagon or auto drivers that a train was coming. Some whistle posts were marked – – o -, which meant “two longs and a short” on the whistle. I was surprised that I couldn’t remember seeing the post here before, but I’m sure it had to have been.
I scuffed my boot in the snow to find that there were only about two inches over very firm ice. The ice remains even though it rained more than a week ago, but maybe a day or two of this warmth will have melted it.
When the sap (called pitch) of white pines turns blue and / or purple you know it has been cold. The only time I see it do this is in the winter. In summer it is either a matte finish, tannish color or a very clear honey / amber color, depending on when it oozed from the tree. Sometimes in winter it can be a very beautiful deep blue.
The biggest surprise on this hike was how many balsam fir trees (Abies balsamea) I saw. This is thought of as a more northern tree so I don’t expect to them here in the southern part of the state but I must have easily seen 20 of them that I hadn’t seen the last time I came this way. It’s hard to believe but maybe it is cold enough here these days to keep them happy. A lot of Christmases came rushing back when I smelled a few of its crushed needles.
The red buds of striped maple (Acer pensylvanicum) were a welcome sight but I was surprised again because I’ve never seen them growing here. Toward the end of April the fuzzy buds will be showing pink and orange hues. They’re one of the most beautiful things in the spring forest and well worth the effort to see.
The chubby, thumb size buds of shagbark hickory (Carya ovata) were no surprise because these trees grow quite abundantly in the river bottom section of Swanzey. This is another bud which, when it breaks in early June, will easily be one of the most beautiful things in the forest. The insides of the bud scales are orange, pink and yellow and make these tress look like they are full of beautiful flowers.
Shagbark hickory gets its name, not surprisingly, from its shaggy bark. The wood is very hard and tough but flexible and shock resistant, so it is prized for use in tool handles. It was also once used to make wheels and spokes for wagons and early autos. Northeastern Native American tribes used the wood to make bows and stone axe handles. Hickory is also one of the hottest burning woods.
Native Americans used the nuts of shagbark hickory for food and the word “hickory” comes from the Native Algonquin “pawchiccora,” which was their word for the oily nutmeat. If a mother’s milk wasn’t available infants were fed hickory milk, which was made by boiling crushed hickory nuts. Today the nuts are eaten mostly by squirrels, chipmunks, foxes and turkeys.
As if often the case what should have been a short walk turned into a long one because there was so much to see along the way, but I finally made it to the trestle. Wooden decks and railings were added to most of the old, unused trestles in this area by snowmobile clubs, and all who use these trails really owe them a debt of gratitude for maintaining them. When I was a boy you had to step from railroad tie to tie, with a gap between that it was easy to catch a leg or an ankle in if you weren’t careful. I was so used to crossing trestles by the time I was ten I could cross them in the dark but I know people who got their leg down between the ties and one who even fell from a trestle into the river below.
I wouldn’t recommend falling into this river in January. There was something going on up river but I couldn’t tell if it was an ice jam or just ice that had formed around a submerged tree. There are a lot of submerged trees in this river and that’s why you only see kayaks or canoes when the water is high, usually in spring. You can see in this photo how the trees lean out over the water as they grow, trying to gather up as much sunlight as possible.
Slabs of ice in the trees told me how high the water had been a while ago. I’m guessing that the water level had dropped 4 or 5 feet since that ice formed.
Another reason I come here is to see the only “tell tales” left to see in this area. Tell tales are thin, pencil size pieces of wire suspended from a cross brace that hangs out over the railroad tracks. They were put in place to warn anyone walking on top of a boxcar that a tunnel or bridge was ahead so they could duck down and avoid a nasty collision with an immoveable object. Being hit in the face by these hanging wires couldn’t have been pleasant but it was certainly better than the alternative. They used to hang on either end of every trestle but now these ones are the only ones I see.
Of all the times I’ve come here I’ve never noticed that the upright that holds the tell tales out over the rail bed is actually a piece of track stood vertically and buried in the soil. It tells me that these tell tales might have been fashioned in place rather than made ahead of time and shipped to the site.
Where I grew up the Boston and Maine Railroad crossed the Ashuelot River just a few yards from my house and there was a trestle there just like this one, so I wouldn’t be lying if I said I grew up on this river and on these railroad tracks, and I guess that each are as much a part of me as anything can be. I think that’s why I come back to them again and again; to check on their health and to see that they’re doing well, and I’m happy to say that both the river and the rail trails are doing much better now than they were then. The Ashuelot was very polluted back then and the trains kept many people off the tracks, but now you can come and sit on a trestle like this all day and admire a near pristine river where bald eagles once again fish for trout. It makes me want to say just look what we can do when we really want to.
When I came here I had nothing but a camera and curiosity but I left satisfied with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step. It struck me on this walk that if people could find happiness in simple things like a walk outside on a warm January day, or seeing sunshine falling on last year’s grasses, they might find that they were happy most of the time. I find that I’m pretty happy most days, and that has happened quite by accident, just by spending most of my free time in nature. It really is amazing what an abundance of joy simply being outside can bring to you. I hope you’ll try it and see.
Be content with what you have;
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking,
the whole world belongs to you.
~Lao Tzu
Thanks for coming by.
Another beautiful natural history lesson, Allen. I miss seeing shagbark hickories. We had many growing where I grew up. We collected the nuts as children.
Thank you Lavinia. I’ve heard they’re real tasty but the squirrels get them before I do so I’ve never tasted one.
They are worth digging the meat out of them! 🙂
It is remarkable how we can either ignore the details around us, or see new things each time. I’m glad you do!
Thank you Cynthia. We do miss a lot!
You had a fine day for your hike, that’s for sure, looking at your photos brought a lot of joy to me! I wish we had more days like that here.
I loved the old trestle, I can see why you’d visit it often. I also liked seeing the leaf buds of the maple and hickory, as I know how beautiful they are when they first open.
You can tell that trains used to run much slower if the engineer could see the W on the marker that was leaning over.
I’ve recently read that lichens may be much more complicated than scientists believed, and that there may be several species of fungi and algeas along with other microrgisms that make up a lichen. Between your informative blog, and other sources, some of this is beginning to make some sense to me.
I’ve seen things similar to the frullania liverwort, but I always assumed that it was a species of moss in the past, I’ll have to give it a closer inspection the next time that I see it.
Thanks Jerry! We haven’t had many days like that one either this month, and they say February is going to be stormy.
I think that marker was standing straight up when the trains ran through here. I used to see those posts all the time but there are fewer and fewer of them these days.
Lichens are very complicated little things and I’d bet scientists will find out a lot more before they’re through studying them. I think I read the report you refer to, or another like it.
The frullania liverworts are real common and easy to find but they do look like moss from a distance, especially in summer when they’re green.
Instead of hiking a loop, I prefer to go to a spot then turn around. It always amazes me how many things you see differently coming from the other direction. Neat about the whistle marker, I’ve never noticed them.
I’d rather do that too. I’m always surprised by how many things I’ve missed. It keeps me humble, I think.
I used to see the posts with a W all the time but I don’t know where they all went. Kind of heavy for someone to just carry off I would think.
I enjoyed going on that hike with you! Thanks! You are sure right about spending time outside in nature!
You’re welcome. Being forced to stay inside because of the bitter cold reminded me just how much better being outside makes me feel. “Cabin fever” is a real thing!
This must have been a very pleasant walk on a sunny winter’s day. I like the two quotes you’ve used! The close-up views of the liverwort and the lichen are good and I love the striped maple buds.
Thank you Clare, it was! Striped maple buds are some of my favorites to watch open in spring. They’re fuzzy and very colorful.
Very interesting about the tell tales – I had never heard that. I like that bridge.
Thank you. I don’t know how wide spread the use of tell tales was but they were common in this area and apparently saved lives.
You have a good recipe for happiness there. And it is good that you spread a bit of your happiness around so that we can be be happy by proxy too.
Thank you, I do try to.
I always learn something new from reading your blog. Thank you!
You’re welcome Lee, and thank you!
Thank you for taking me along on this amazing hike. I could hear the crunch of your boots in the snow and almost hear the wail of the train whistle. Just stunning photographs. The close up of the rivet and rail suggests a photo taken from outer space. The tell tales are something I have never seen or heard of. I could see that ten year old boy nimbly crossing the trestle as he explored and learned of the world around him. Our weather here is similar..sunny but a windchill barely above zero.
Thank you Penny. That 10 year old boy used to have a lot of fun on the railroad tracks, and I still love walking the old trails because there’s always so much to see.
We’ve actually been on the warm side of things lately but now they say we’ll be into the 20s until this weekend. Saturday looks like a sunny, warmish day so I’ve got to make some outdoor plans!
Yes, what a pleasure to walk with you. Lovely, lovely post from the beginning, with the John Burroughs quotation, to your own thoughts at the end. Then, the cherry on the sundae—Lao Tzu.
Thank you Laurie, it was a great day to be outside. Not quite a thaw but close.
Thank you so much for this post. I really enjoyed it; and I’m going for a walk!
You’re welcome Christy, and thank you. I’m glad to hear that!
Lovely post & great photos. I always feel happy/ content if I spend time outside .. We have had a heatwave this week (in Australia) so I haven’t been out much & I feel as if I’ve had cabin fever!
Thank you. I had to stay inside for a while because of the dangerous cold we’ve had so I know just what you mean. It was terrible!
It is such a pleasure to walk a trail with you, having all those interesting natural growths pointed out without even having to leave my armchair! I know it would be better out in the open air, but that is not so easy to do where I live.
Thank you Susan. I know from emails that many people can’t get outside for various reasons and that’s okay, but I just read that something like 88% of the children in this country spend only 1 hour per day outside, and that’s too bad.
Reblogged this on Poltrack Pix and commented:
Hickory nuts are delicious, a bit tricky to crack. I used to seek out the trees in Connecticut. They seem to be less prevalent in NH.
I see lots of them in this area. They seem to like to grow near rivers.