A Vision, a Mountain and a March 20 Deadline

Forest Society hopes to protect 390 acres on Mount Monadnock

More information at forestsociety.org/monadnock.

Amazing things happen when people identify an urgent need, express their vision and pull people together for action.

That’s exactly what happened in 1915 when visionary leaders from the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests looked at the challenges facing Mount Monadnock. Seeing the potential that this treasured mountain could be irreversibly changed by development, they worked with scores of folks to protect 650 acres on its slopes.

It was a remarkable story in itself, and since then, the Forest Society has gradually protected some 4,100 acres on the mountain. These publicly accessible lands -- along with tracts conserved by the state and other organizations -- are arguably among the most treasured natural assets in the region, if not the state.

They did it tract by tract, piece by piece, and all with tremendous grassroots support.

Today’s Challenge

Now the mountain faces another challenge, another opportunity, where the Forest Society’s vision needs that grassroots support again.

The Forest Society is working to protect nearly 400 acres on Mount Monadnock and has until March 20 to raise funds to seal the deal. So far, the organization has raised a little more than half of the $760,000 needed.

If successful, the project will be the largest acreage protected on the mountain at one time since 1915.

“This is a real challenge,” said Dave Anderson, the Forest Society’s director of education. “It’s an incredible opportunity, but we have until March 20 to make it happen. And in this economy, we are working hard to raise the money.”


The Project in a Nutshell

The project involves two landowners, with tracts on opposite sides of the mountain.

In the northwestern corner of Jaffrey and a little bit in Marlborough, the Forest Society hopes to purchase 335 acres from the Stowell family. This tract includes a stretch of the Marlborough Trail, one of the mountain’s nicest trails and in the late 1800s it was one of the most popular routes to the summit.

Aside from excellent habitat for moose, black bear, bobcat and other mammals that require wide ranges, the piece has remarkable forests for forest-loving songbirds and many other species. It also holds some cultural resources, like the site of a former Shaker farm with links to Shirley, Mass. Remnants of the farm, established in 1793, can still be seen.

The Stowell family has owned the land for three generations and now needs to sell.

A Hand in the Future

On the southeastern end of the mountain, in Jaffrey, the Forest Society seeks to purchase a conservation easement on 55 acres owned by Charles and Ann Royce. Charles Royce is a former manager of Monadnock State Park and a longtime, tireless and passionate advocate for conserving the mountain.

Under the conservation easement, the Royce family would continue to own and manage the land. They could sell or transfer the tract, but the Forest Society’s easement would permanently protect the land and its natural resources.

“It’s about preserving the land as both a part of the natural view shed, but also ensuring that it is available to future generations,” Ann Royce told the Ledger-Transcript last fall. “The easement will be passed on to future owners of the property, with us having a hand in that future.”

The Royce tract also has important cultural resources, like home sites of some of Jaffrey’s early settlers and a road that was once the main road between Jaffrey and Keene.

March 20 Fast Approaching

Because of the urgency of the challenge and the importance of lands, the project has attracted some respectable support. Among the contributors so far are the Jessie B. Cox CLT - Cox Family Fund, the N.H. Land and Community Heritage Investment Program (for the Stowell tract), the N.H. Conservation Plate program, the Conservation Alliance and the town of Marlborough.

“We’ve raised $430,000 so far,” Anderson said. “We’re more than half-way there. But we’ve got a hard deadline of March 20 that’s fast approaching and an opportunity to do something that’s going to help protect the mountain for future generations. It’s an urgent appeal, but I’m hopeful we can do it.”

A plaque at the base of Monadnock’s White Dot Trail honors the vision of Forest Society leaders who helped protect the mountain, Philip Ayres and Allen Chamberlain: “…May it always remain as it is today. Free and wild and beautiful. The unspoiled heritage of the past. A haven of refuge for those who seek its peace in years to come.”

Amazing things can happen when people pull together.

To learn more about this project, visit forestsociety.org/monadnock.

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.

Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp: Antrim’s Globally Rare Ecosystem

A boardwalk leads hikers into the cedar swamp.

Of all the ecosystems here in our region -- from hemlock forests to peatland bogs -- few are really rare.


But a swamp in the northern part of Antrim is globally rare.

Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp is a great example of what ecologists describe as an “inland Atlantic white cedar swamp.”

Because of its excellent condition, size and exemplary nature, The Nature Conservancy protected this place in 1999. In 2006, the Conservancy acquired an additional 635 acres that helped protect the swamp’s watershed.

Now, the Conservancy’s 1,200-acre Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp Preserve lies within a conserved landscape of some 15,000 acres, protected by the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests and other partner organizations.

Thanks to volunteers and staff of The Nature Conservancy, a trail and boardwalk leads into a piece of this strange and quiet place. From the boardwalk, you can see that it’s really a type of forested wetland; dark, cool and damp. Nothing like any other place in the region.

New Hampshire’s Rare Wetlands

Of New Hampshire’s 500,000 acres of wetlands, only 1 percent are Atlantic cedar swamps. Most of them are small and near the coast. Some of those cedar swamps, like one in Kingston, is quite open in nature, with trees spaced far apart in bright sunlight.

Another good example is in Manchester -- also protected by The Nature Conservancy -- and is 42 acres. The Manchester swamp is a bit different from Loverens Mill. Manchester Cedar Swamp. It hosts ancient black gum (some 400-plus years old) and giant rhododendron, which flower in early summer.

At nearly 50 acres, Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp is New Hampshire’s second largest. And it has a few traits that give it a northern (or boreal) flavor. Surrounded by hills, the swamp sits in the bottom of a  bowl -- at 1,040 feet in elevation -- where cold air collects and influences the plants that grow here. You’ll see northern species like tamarack, black spruce, balsam fir and Labrador tea, among others.

Atlantic white cedars -- which are found along the Eastern coast from Mississippi to Maine -- grow extremely slowly. Botanists have found some Atlantic white cedars less than 1 foot tall that are over 200 years old. The old cedars in Antrim are a respectable 130 years old.

While Atlantic white cedars can grow on little hummocks in swamps, their collective success can hinge on the wetlands themselves. If drained or flooded, for example, cedars can die in the wetlands and the ecosystem would peter out. That’s what has happened throughout New Hampshire where cedar swamps were once more abundant.

The water levels at Antrim’s Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp has probably been fairly consistent for hundreds or more years. In fact, a study of pollen cored from the depths of the Antrim swamp show that cedar has been here for more than 4,000 years. That is quite a testament to this system’s resilience.

Guided Tour of Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp Feb. 25
On Saturday, Feb. 25, join botanist Nur Ritter and The Nature Conservancy’s Eric Aldrich for a tour of Loverens Mill Cedar Swamp. Meet at 9 a.m. at the preserve entrance, Loverens Mill Road, off Route 9 in Antrim. Hike wraps up by noon; co-sponsored by the Harris Center for Conservation Education.

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.

Flying Squirrels: Our Amazing Gliding Rodent of the Woods

Flying Squirrels: Our Amazing Gliding Rodent of the Woods

It was around this time one year when we had enough snow to head out for a long, early-winter cross-country ski trek. At that sweet time when day starts fading into night, I noticed something moving in the trees, way up high. 

A squirrel, I thought, but too small for a red squirrel, and rushing perilously toward the tiny tip of a high limb. Then it jumped. 

This little guy stretched out his whole body, turning the flap of skin between his wrists and ankles into a sort-of sail or a kite. Like in slow motion, he glided gracefully to the next tree, landing near the trunk, 6 feet or so up from the ground.

Then it scurried up that oak, scooted way out on a high limb and jumped again to the base of another tree. It must have done this exercise a dozen times until it went out of sight. I saw that jumping from up high was the easy part. What really surprised me was the finesse and technique as it approached his landing tree. Just before landing, the squirrel could slow, turn and adjust, then raise his body as he approached the tree. He even seemed to use his tail like both a rudder and a parachute.

Opportunistic Little Fliers

That was my second introduction to the northern flying squirrel. The first was when our cat brought a live flying squirrel into the house, where it ran off and hid in the folds of a curtain until we convinced it to exit through the sliding glass doors. 

They are one of our more remarkable rodents, right up there with the beaver in a measure of awesomeness. 

To allow their flying habit, these squirrels are tiny, with an adult weighing in at little more than 2 ounces. Making them the paper airplane of the animal kingdom is the furry flap that extends between their arms and legs, called the patagium. Their flat tails can help them steer and land upright on a tree, instead of a humiliating face-plant.

Flying squirrels are nocturnal -- which is one reason they’re seldom seen -- and have big eyes that let them find food and avoid predators at night. 

They usually live in holes of trees or stumps, like those drilled or formerly occupied by woodpeckers. Their nests are often lined with any soft material they can find, including feathers, fur or moss. In the cold of winter, these nests can hold a bunch of notoriously social flying squirrels -- even more than a dozen -- all huddling and cuddling to stay warm. They’re not hibernators, so a few hardy souls will emerge on winter nights to seek food, bring it back and share it with the party.

Four flying squirrels feed off a beaver and deer carcass.

They’re opportunistic feeders, enjoying a menu that might include fungi, insects and their larvae, birds eggs, beechnuts and acorns, lichen and, yes, flesh. Here's a trail-camera photos of flying squirrels feeding off a beaver and deer carcass. (Right. I know. That’s another story.)

A Match-Making Squirrel 

When Michael Morrison was teaching science at Monadnock Regional High School in Swanzey, his students were faced with the riddle of what was stripping the bark off staghorn sumac twigs high off the ground. They set live traps baited with peanut butter, captured flying squirrels, and after some research learned that staghorn sumac is an important winter food source for flying squirrels.

Flying squirrels not only social animals, they’re known for their nurturing. Last year, when Nur Ritter of Hancock was doing a botanical inventory of forests in Wisconsin, one of the foresters he was with reached down into the base of a multi-stemmed tree and had a flying squirrel run up his arm. Turned out it was a nest with three young flying squirrels. The mother squirrel eventually relocated her litter while Nur and his crew were working.

One of my favorite stories about flying squirrels comes from my friend Chris Vincent in Vermont. Chris’s new friend was convinced she had a rat coming into her kitchen at night, so she called Chris to come and check it out. Chris brought over a little Have-A-Heart trap and reassured her that he’d catch the problematic rodent and release it unharmed. Over the course of a week as he tried to catch the critter, Chris and his new acquaintance got to know each other with dinner and movies. Finally, the trap captured the innocent flying squirrel and Chris released it safely. Thanks to that flying squirrel, Chris and his relieved friend have been a couple for 14 years!

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.

Ice is Nice ... When It's Safe

Enjoy the ice, for God's sake! But make sure it's safe.

A few tips for staying safe on the ice

Depending on what the weather throws at us, late-fall/early-winter can be some of the best weeks to enjoy the ice.

In a lucky year, a week or so of snowless arctic cold can set up perfect ice-skating conditions.  It’s happened a few times in recent memory—when the ice is like a sheet of glass and you can slap a puck clear across the pond. Even better when you can see through the ice, fish and all.And all winter long, the ice can be great for ice-fishing, skiing, snowshoeing and all sorts of other fun things.

But fun on the ice comes with responsibility to make sure you’re safe on the ice. So, here are a few tips:

• Be patient/be safe. Wait for cold temps and safe ice thicknesses to set up before you venture out.
• Assume all ice is unsafe until you determine that it is safe. So, be prepared to check the ice thickness using an ice chisel or an auger.
• Check the thickness in several places and continue to check the farther you get from the shoreline. Remember that ice doesn’t form in uniform thickness across a water body. Currents from inlets, outlets, springs and channels can limit ice buildup. So, while the ice can be a foot thick across most of a pond, it could be a deadly 1 inch thick near an inlet.
• Ice conditions change constantly over the course of a winter. Warm spells can create slush, which then re-freezes and becomes weak. Heavy snow can create a layer of slush between the ice and snow, which can also make ice conditions weak and unpredictable.
• Beware of the ice near shorelines. Warmth from the shoreline can weaken or thaw ice on the edges, making it tricky to get off or on the ice.
• Watch out for tricky spots, like honeycombed, clear or squishy ice. These could be weak spots.
• Smaller ponds tend to set up sooner than rivers and large lakes, where currents and waves can keep ice from forming.
• Avoid gathering in large groups on the ice, especially in early winter.
• Don’t drive trucks or cars on the ice. The consequences can be humiliating and expensive, if not deadly.
• Don’t panic if you do fall through the ice. According to the N.H. Fish and Game Department, you should move back to where you fell in, where you know the ice was solid. Lay both arms on the unbroken ice and kick hard to climb back on. When you get back on the ice, roll away from the hole until you reach solid ice.  A pair of ice picks can save your life. Make them or buy them and keep them handy.
• Rules of thumb: According to the U.S. Army’s Cold Region Research Laboratory in Hanover, here are a few rules of thumb for safe ice: You should have at least 6 inches of hard ice for individual foot travel and 8 to 10 inches of hard ice for snowmobile or ATV.

A number of folks I know are skittish about the ice for one reason or another. Some have heard ice make those thunderous and wondrous cracking noises and assumed that sound means the ice is unsafe. Often, though, those are the sounds of ice thickening up, cracking as it expands. 

Once the ice sets up and you’ve determined it’s safe, get out there and enjoy it! 

Shorter Days - Longer Nights

Late-October dusk drapes a Hancock field.

It Ain’t All Bad

You notice it every day this time of year: The days are getting shorter; nights are getting longer.

According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, we’ll have 10 hours and 39 minutes of daylight today and a few minutes less each day until December 21. The Winter Solstice -- the shortest day of the year, as they say -- gives us a meager 9 hours and 5 minutes of daylight.

That’s when the Earth starts to tilt back the other way, giving us a few more precious moments of light each day. But that’s still another two months away. ‘Til then, we prepare for whatever winter might bring us and adjust to the darkness.

Some folks hate this time of year because of the declining light. My wife complains that she leaves the house when the sun is coming up, and returns from work when the sun is going down. Nary a few minutes to enjoy the outdoors without a headlamp.

I suspect we all get a touch of the winter blues. But some people -- happy and healthy during the warm seasons -- seem to really suffer with seasonal affective disorder. A former colleague of mine illuminated her office with a special lamp recommended by her doctor. She did this in late fall and winter and said it seemed to help brighten her mood.

Aside from using such lamps or moving to warmer, brighter climes, there’s little we can do to stop the dark swing of Autumn. But in the spirit of positive thinking, we can acknowledge a few good things about these longer nights.

1. We’ve got it easy.
For millions of years, humanity has spent nights in the dark or by fire. You didn’t have much of a choice. Ultimately, our nights were lit by hearths, then candles and lamps and lanterns. We didn’t have the luxury of flipping a switch for light until the advent of electricity. Even TVs and computers and phones light our space now. Really. It makes me wonder if we’ve forgotten what darkness is.

2. A Signal for Nature
The onset of longer nights is one of nature’s many signals that things need to happen. Deer and moose enter the rut. Leaves begin to fall. Birds fly south. Berries ripen. Bears fatten up for the winter. The list goes on. While the longer nights aren’t the only factor for these changes, it’s a part of the mix.

3. Get More Sleep
Enjoy that extra darkness as a gift of more sleep. Turn off the TV and go to bed early for a few months. You may find that extra sleep refreshing.

4. Darkness is Healthy
A few more hours of darkness might make you healthier. Scientists have learned that our bodies can produce the hormone melatonin only when it’s really dark. And we need melatonin for all sorts of reasons, including its ability to fight diseases.

5. Go Night-Hiking.
Defy the dark by enjoying it. Get a headlamp and go for a night hike. Since it’s dark early, it doesn’t have to be a late night adventure. I occasionally go night-hiking with friends on Friday nights. It’s fun, especially in the late fall when there are no bugs and there’s a comfortable chill in the air.

6. Discover the Night Sky
It’s amazing how the stars pop out on those crisp Autumn’s nights. Now you can discover those constellations at a reasonable hour. Use a telescope, a pair of binoculars or just your own eyes. Check the almanac for nights when you’re likely to see a meteor shower. You might even see northern lights!

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.

Everything Rots

Even rot-loving fungus decomposes.

A quiz about decomposition

Not to sound like Debbie Downer, but let’s face it: Without death, there is no life. It’s the cycle of life.

And as that cycle goes round, the process of rot starts right after death.

Fall is a great time to celebrate rot. Leaves are falling. Vegetation is dying back. And the cycle of life is in full, glorious swing.

With that in mind, here’s a little quiz about rot.

1. The carpet of dried leaves, twigs and other plant debris on the forest floor is called the:
a. recycling layer.
b. leaf litter.
c. spread.
d. canopy.

2. The process where dead vegetation, animals and scat are converted from complex carbohydrates and proteins to basic atoms is called:
a. fission.
b. recycling.
c. decomposition.
d. recomposition.

3. Before rotting vegetation becomes soil, it goes through a transition stage known as:
a. humus - with one m.
b. hummus - with two m’s.
c. leaf litter.
d. photosynthesis.

4. Microscopic organisms that decompose organic matter include:
a. slime molds.
b. mycorrhizal fungi
c. mites and wood lice.
d. bacteria and protozoans.

5. One of the forest’s hard-working decomposers are called hyphae. These are:
a. tiny insects that eat dead plants and animals from the inside out.
b. worms that eat dead vegetation.
c. long strands of fungi.
d. mushrooms that sprout up in moist woods.

6. What rots faster?
a. skunk carcass.
b. maple leaf.
c. Twinkie.
d. oak log.

7. Consuming 80 to 90 percent of the energy in fallen debris are:
a. flies and maggots.
b. snails and slugs.
c. fungi and bacteria.
d. mice and moles.

The rotten answers:

1. b, leaf litter. This is where the recycling begins. Probe just a few leaf layers down and you see leaves riddled with holes by insects and mites, fungi and bacteria.

2. d, decomposition, though it is a form of natural recycling.

3. a. humus with one m. Hummus with two m’s is a Middle Eastern food spread. And there are two types of humus (one m): “mor,” which is seen in forests with thick litter layers, and “mull,” which is usually in forests with few conifers and has soils of low acidity.

4. d. bacteria and protozoans.

5. c, long strands of fungi that grow on or into their food sources, including leaves and other vegetation, carcasses, logs, scat … you name it. Just under the forest’s layer of leaves is a whole network of hyphae, called a mycelium. These networks are the main body of a fungus and may live for decades or longer. 

6. a, a skunk carcass, or most animals in general, because of their low ratio of carbon to nitrogen. Carbon represents the hard to decompose stuff, like cellulose, while nitrogen represents the easier to digest stuff, like proteins. An animal carcass is pretty easy to decompose and has a carbon/nitrogen ratio of about 3:1. By comparison, sugar maple has a carbon/nitrogen ratio of about 52:1. It can take years for a leaf to decompose. The Twinkie: Urban legend holds that they have a shelf life of decades, but folks who’ve studied rotting Twinkies (not me!) say they actually last about 25 days. So, if your answer was “Twinkie,” we’ll give it to you! 

7. c, fungi and bacteria. The rest of the plant and animal material, along with the fungi and bacteria themselves, form the food base for animals in the soil.

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.

The Rhythm of the Trail

Summers are Short, Life is Sweet: Time to Hike the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway

By Eric Aldrich

Starting our hike on the MS Greenway in Dublin.

Like a shooting star flying through the night sky, summer comes and goes.

It’s the same way with kids. They grow up so fast.

With that in mind, I knew back in May that I needed to plan a summer adventure with my 10 year-old son, Ian. We wanted it to be outdoors, multi-day and challenging. A backpacking trip would be the perfect adventure.

We first considered a hut-to-hut trip in New Hampshire’s Presidentials, and even planned a few options for a two- or three-night journey.

Then we quickly settled on something nearby and familiar like an old friend: the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway Trail. I had hiked the trail many times before -- in sections and through-hikes -- but not for a few years. So, not only would this be a good place for our adventure, it would also be a nice chance to get reacquainted and introduce the Greenway to the next generation.

We started planning. We picked up the new edition of the Greenway Trail Guide and pored over the maps.

The Greenway is a fabulous local treasure, running 50 miles between the summits of Mount Monadnock to Mount Sunapee. Along the way it climbs many hills, passes old stone walls and cellar holes, ponds, streams and one-time pastures, now loaded with blueberry bushes.

It generally follows the high ground between the Connecticut River watershed on the west and the Merrimack River watershed on the east. This divide is pretty well-defined on Mount Sunapee’s long, rocky spine, where you can straddle the two watersheds with both feet.

A Greenway Vision

The trail was first suggested in 1919 by Allen Chamberlain, then president of the Appalachian Mountain Club. By 1921, the trail was laid out by the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, which saw it as a way to build public support for conserving not only the two book-end peaks, but also a corridor between them.

Back then, the landscape was full of open meadows and active pastures and farms. While some of the trail followed old roads, other stretches went through these pastures with landowners’ approval.

After World War II, the trail fell into disrepair and its path faded into the woods. By 1974, however, the Forest Society saw the public’s growing interest in backpacking and revived the trail with the help of the AMC. Much of the trail follows this 1974 route, passing through state parks, state forests, lands owned by conservation organizations and many private lands -- some conserved and some not.

The key to keeping the trail on these private lands is ensuring hikers follow a few simple rules, like having no fires, camping in designated sites and being courteous to landowners and other hikers.

Aside from landowners, the trail’s true heroes are the hardworking volunteers of the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway Trail Club. They clear blowdowns, install waterbars and bridges and maintain the trail in many ways. They also produce the handy trail guide.

Four Nights and Five Senses

    While you can through-hike the Greenway in four days or so, my son and I faced the constraints of busy work, school and camp schedules. So we did it in four sections, spending four nights on the trail (shelters and tent platforms) and hiking the Lovewell Mountain stretch in Washington as a day-hike. We started by heading north from Mount Monadnock on Father’s Day weekend and wrapped up the Mount Sunapee end on August 1, hot, sweaty and satisfied.
    It was a journey for the senses. We savored strawberries on our first day and gobbled blueberries near the end on Sunapee’s ridge. We enjoyed chicken terriyaki, scrambled eggs and even ice-cream sandwiches, all thanks to freeze-dried technology and Eastern Mountain Sports!
    We heard vireos, warblers, babbling brooks, crickets and wind whistling through the pines.
    We touched smooth beeches scratched by black bears and splashed our sweaty faces with cool brook water.
    We smelled lichens roasting on the rocks, spruce-fir forests and instant coffee in the morning.
    And we saw old graveyards, beaver dams, distant windmills in Lempster, coyote scat, friends in Nelson and my old school in Washington.

Have an Adventure

    This is just one father/son summer adventure. There’ll be more backpacking trips, more trails and more seasons … but it’s funny how time flies.
    Seems like yesterday my hiking partner was riding on my back in a baby carrier. And there were times when summers seemed to last forever. Kids grow up. Lives get busy. Knees go bad. And summer fades into fall. All of which is fine. It’s the rhythm of life, the rhythm of the trail.
    So pick a trail, any trail -- no matter how old your kids are, no matter the season -- and go out and share it with them. Life is sweet, like a mouthful of blueberries. Have an adventure. Hit the trail and have fun.

For more information about the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway Trail, visit www.msgtc.org.

Eric Aldrich writes from his home in Hancock.