October Paddling

From the ramp at the southeast corner of the pond to the river at the north end is about a mile,

and another mile or so to the road after the highway overpass.

The car was loaded and the kayak tied down for an early Monday morning departure for Nauset Marsh before I went to bed.  But the promised sunshine faded to mostly overcast, and near-freezing temperatures and strong winds predicted by morning for Eastham would have made paddling an ordeal at best.

Bummer.

Determined to put my preparations to some use, I decided on a fall paddle of "Lake" Nippenicket, with a hoped-for side trip down part of the Town River--one of the sources of the mighty Taunton River.

I spent the morning, coffee in hand, scouting the trip, then put the boat in the pond shortly after 1pm.  With all the recent rain, the pond was higher than I've seen it.  The air was in the balmy fifties, with a  sun that peeked fitfully through the clouds.  A few yards from shore I rigged my new spray deck and set out north for the far end of the pond.  The spray deck kept my legs warm and dry despite the breeze.  I took many photos, but fall colors were a bit washed out due likely to the rain, and there wasn't enough sunshine to really bring out what color there was.  But this counted as good paddling weather for the season.

The trip out.

The north end of the pond.

 I'm dressed in fleece-line pants, a fleece shirt, a wool sweater and windbreaker, and of course 

my Adventure Hat.  Though my feet were in wet water shoes, they were comfortable 

tucked inside the boat.  I'm very glad I didn't try to kayak Nauset Marsh in a freezing gale!

 This little inlet looks like the entrance to the river.

 After learning my mistake (I cheated and checked Google Earth on my phone),

I finally extricated myself from the woods.

And lo! I have at least a good safe hour more to spend out on the water!

The first mile or more of Town River.

The real entrance to the river isn't hard to find if you're paying attention.

Curiously, there was no perceptible current here--even with the water as high as it is.

Having experienced the challenge of paddling among trees and bushes,

I was very glad that the real river runs through marsh instead. 

 Winterberry (Ilex verticillata) is a relative of American holly.

Short videos better give the flavor of being on the river.

 Swamp white oak is a tree I knew only from a few weedy trees in an empty lot near home.

Here, they are in their element.

  Swamp white oak is the dominant tree in this marsh.

 Swamp white oaks can get big.  I wonder how they survive living with their roots underwater?

The current, which gradually became perceptible, increased noticeably 

after I passed the confluence with the Hockomock River.

Drifting at a good 1 knot without so much as dipping my paddle.

The river begins to meander approaching the highway, which means

you hear and even see the highway intermittently well before reaching it.  

I had plenty of time to worry about the rapids and rocks I have encountered under bridges in the past, but the flow beneath the highway was smooth and flat--perhaps because the water was so high.

More meanders downstream of the highway.  Negotiating them is fun.

The Scotland Street bridge was just as smooth underneath as the highway bridge.

After wrangling all gear and boat up to the road over the loose rocks, I lost enthusiasm for an hour's walk back to the car.  Fortunately, my loving wife came to get me, and I was safely home by about 6pm.  Now I'm ready to paddle much more of the Town River, though I need to determine where some hazards are, and how to avoid finding myself in the reservoir that the river is eventually used for!  

Nigh Noon on Nippenicket

Loaded up Musketaquid (skin-on-frame kayak) and Guppy (possible name of tiny new plastic kayak) for a couple of hours on favorite nearby pond.  First time paddling in weeks.  Left shore elevenish.  No agenda.  I said, "I'll follow you."  Son said, "no, I'll follow you."  So we followed each other vaguely in the direction of the far end of the mile-long pond, making discoveries as we went.  

 

Red-winged blackbird repeating unfamiliar call 

that kept me guessinguntil I got a clear look at him.

 

Nippenicket's shoals and islands make it more interesting.

 A tiny "cove" has white waterlily (Nymphaea odorata) and pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata)

in the foreground, while royal fern (Osmunda regalis center left) peeks from the shadows ashore.

 

Stephen among the water shield (Brassenia shreberi),

easily identified by shield-shaped leaves with leaf stems in the center.

  Scattered white flowers at the surface announce the flowering of the underwater plant fanwort

(Cabomba caroliniana) with its finely-divided, dichotomously branching leaves.

Herbivores busy everywhere, but the white water lily leaves first got my attention by the uniformity of the holes, then focused it when I saw that the holes were being cut out as if with scissors!  No idea by what.

 

 Perfect weather: enough cloud to make sky interesting, 

enough wind to keep us cool without making paddling difficult.

The whole northern end of the pond is choked with water milfoil (Myriophyllum)--another alien invasive--and we passed up a closer look at a marsh to get ourselves disentangled.  

Ashore later at the Harry C. Darling Wildlife Management Area, we stretched our legs and poked around.

 Musketaquid ably bears my weight in its 12 foot length,

while 8-foot Guppy rides high with Stephen.

Pickerelweed up close.  (I tried without success to catch a visiting bumblebee in the photo.)

Alder (Alnus), with its double-toothed leaves and fruit ("cones");

below are last year's cones, long ago opened but still hanging around.

Sweetpepperbush (Clethra alnifolia)--a very common shrub of wet places--in flower.

The toothed leaves are wider toward the tips.  The dried fruit will look a bit like peppercorns. 

On the way back to the launch area, we stopped at a little islet we'd never been to. 

 View looking westward.

Purple loosestrife, an alien invasive.

Looking south toward the launch ramp a quarter-mile away.

We raced informally back to the launch.  Stephen's smaller boat's lower wetted surface (friction) and lighter weight was trumped by my boat's longer waterline (higher top speed) and stronger arms.  --not to mention that winning meant more to me (an official Old Guy) than him.  So I beat him handily.  We were back on the road before 2pm.