We Went For a Walk

     Our premise was to find a beaver pond with trout in it. Years had passed since I had found a good one. Pack rods were stowed in our backpacks, along with lunches, trout flies, and basic first aid gear. The dogs would accompany us and their excitement felt contagious. From an old abandoned logging yard filled with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers we headed east.

     The path petered out and we stepped into the shade of hardwood trees. Up in the treetops a grouse flushed. The old skid roads had filled with raspberries and made for miserable walking. Inside the shade of the hardwood trees the air felt cooler. How many people today abandon the trails to make their own way through the forest? Not many I suspect.

     Moose sign was everywhere, droppings and tracks.  Deer tracks, large and small, indicated a healthy herd. A well-worn game trail led down to the first pond we had hoped to find. It looked more like a meadow than a pond, all filled with silt until perfectly flat and then covered with the greenest of grass. After a good mowing it would have made a delightful baseball field.

     Heading to the north through the hardwoods again, we crossed another logger’s skid road and soon entered a stand of softwood trees. Another grouse flew from up high at the sound of our dogs. Clearing the top of a small knoll, we looked down on an expanse of water.

     It couldn’t have looked much prettier, but no recent beaver activity could be found. The water looked brown and warm. Only a trickle of water flowed out of the pond and there didn’t appear to be a brook flowing in.

     Our dogs loved the water and poked along the shore. Maggie swam out to one small island and claimed it for her own. Trout seemed to be absent, so after a short break we trekked onward to the west, passing under beech, maple, and yellow birch trees.

     The third beaver pond we found had water in only one small corner next to the long-gone beaver’s neglected dam. Clumps of very green grass sprouted in the mud, as Mother Nature reclaimed what the beaver had tried to change. It was time to abandon our quest and head home.

     Following the contour of the hill, we continued to the west, knowing we would eventually intersect a logging road that would lead us back to our truck.