Mine Falls Park

Subtly Spring

/ Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

“Show me some spring pictures,” a reader recently asked me. He was looking for budding trees and fresh green growth. Perhaps I can oblige him in another week or so. For now, the signs of spring are subtler.

It’s mud season, but the trails at Horse Hill Nature Preserve in Merrimack were in remarkably good shape the other day. The herons were back on Lastowka Pond, croaking and courting. I could see that the beavers had been busy along the shoreline, taking down a big tree that barely missed a bench as it fell. Deeper into the woods, I smelled freshly-cut lumber on a refurbished bog bridge.

Simple wooden bridge on forest trail
Early-season work by trail maintainers: a refurbished bridge. Photos by Ellen Kolb.
Trees with beaver damage
The beavers are in town: this pair of trees had been untouched a week earlier.

On a recent walk through Mine Falls Park in Nashua, I looked for swans in the cove but found none. Some years, there’s a pair that bullies the park’s Canada geese into the cove’s farther reaches. The geese are safe for now. I was glad to see blackbirds amid the reeds that edge the cove; I missed them in winter.

Blackbird amid reeds
Blackbird, nearly hidden in reeds

Business took me to Loudon recently, and I added a couple of hours to the trip so I could visit nearby Belmont and discover the Winni Trail, a paved rail trail along Lake Winnisquam. That was one of my better detours.

Winni trail logo, Belmont NH

I had the advantage of a fine sunny day, with cool air and miles of visibility. A stretch of trail went through the woods, with lake and rail line out of sight, and then broke into the open to hug the shore alongside the rails. Good thing someone thought to set up a few benches along the way; the views are definitely worth stopping for.

Lake Winnisquam, Belmont, New Hampshire, from rail trail
Seen from the Winni Trail: a railroad signal mast, Lake Winnisquam, and the hills of the Lakes Region.

It was my first experience with rail-with-trail, where a trail shares the right-of-way with an active rail line. That particular line is owned by the state of New Hampshire, not by a rail corporation, and I suppose that might have simplified development of the trail.

The shared right-of-way continues into Laconia on the WOW Trail (for Lakes Winnisquam, Opechee, and Winnipesaukee). Someday, with a lot of cooperation and investment and volunteer work, there could be a continuous recreational rail trail linking WOW in Laconia with the Winnipesaukee River Trail in Tilton via the Winni Trail in Belmont. That’s a project to cheer for, if Belmont’s trail is indicative of what’s ahead.

Winni trail, rail trail in Belmont New Hampshire, in early spring.
Early spring on the Winni Trail

A layered trail

/ Ellen Kolb

I needed a walk with no cars in sight. I headed to Mine Falls Park in Nashua. I found leaves over patchy ice over mud: not my favorite trail surface, but that’s what the end of October is dishing up in my area.

trail in woods at sunset
Mine Falls Park, Nashua: late afternoon, end of October. Ellen Kolb photo.

A scant inch of snow fell yesterday along with the leaves. Everything froze overnight, and then the sun came up and promptly warmed things up to about forty degrees. That left me with the layered trail. It wasn’t too bad, and it was certainly better than pavement. The bridges over canal and river were still a bit slippery from the snow.

The park was quiet. Weekends are usually busier. Even adjacent Lincoln Park, where I left my car, was nearly empty. No complaints. I was a bit out of sorts, and solitude suited me.

I usually see mallards in the canal. This day, I saw them in the Nashua River instead. About three dozen were together midstream. The river was sluggish, and the ducks paddled upstream effortlessly. That left the cove for about 20 Canada geese, most of them napping in the late afternoon.

I needed my sunglasses as I returned to my car, with the sun low in the western sky. That reminded me that I was walking during the last day of Daylight Savings Time. November will bring the sense of dislocation I feel every fall until I mentally reconcile what the clock says with what the sun does.

Nashua loop

/ Ellen Kolb

An hour’s free time let me string together a Mine Falls path with the Nashua Heritage Rail Trail to make a pleasant loop for an afternoon walk.

sign for Nashua Heritage Rail Trail, New Hampshire
A Heritage Trail sign gives the story behind the trail, for those who stop to read closely. Photos by Ellen Kolb.

Once upon a time, the railroad line that’s now the Heritage Trail was on the same line that became the Nashua River Rail Trail. It’s not likely that the two trails will ever connect again, what with the Everett Turnpike and a few decades of real estate development in the way.

Today, the paved Heritage Trail parallels West Hollis Street from City Hall to just short of Simon Street. There are numerous road crossings and congestion through the Tree Streets behind City Hall. To the west, the trail is quieter. There’s a sign along the way indicating where to veer off to get to the 7th Street entrance to Mine Falls Park.

Nashua Heritage Rail Trail, New Hampshire. Photo by Ellen Kolb.
Nashua Heritage Rail Trail, near western terminus.

Mine Falls Park, as ever, was a beautiful place to visit. The cove’s water level in this drought-stricken season was lower than I’ve ever seen it. Even so, the park’s woods and waterside plants were irrepressibly lush.

Mine Falls Park bridge, Nashua, New Hampshire. Photo by Ellen Kolb
Whipple Street access bridge from Mine Falls Park.

How To: A bit of road walking was involved in the loop. I parked on Whipple Street, walked up Simon Street to Will Street – watching out for the tractor-trailers on their way to the nearby UPS depot – and then picked up the Heritage Trail. When I got to the sign on the trail pointing me to Mine Falls’ 7th Street entrance, I turned onto 7th Street and followed it across Ledge Street to the park entrance. I turned left at the canal and kept walking back to the Whipple Street entrance. A little shy of 3 miles, all told.

Muddy trails, four-footed friends

/ Ellen Kolb

Boots, you fool. Boots. Two days in a row, I’ve gone out in running shoes when boots would have been a much better idea. It’s uncommonly warm for late December, and a recent gentle 24-hour rain left local paths muddy. I’ve been on flat trails close to home, nothing adventurous, but they’ve left me with very dirty shoes. No harm done.

(And what was I thinking when I bought white athletic shoes? Nothing meant to be worn outdoors should be white, except for reflective tape.)

Nashua River at Mine Falls Dam. Spring runoff can cover those rocks.

Nashua River at Mine Falls Dam. Spring runoff can cover those rocks.

I wondered if there’d been enough rain to make Mine Falls into a real falls. The Nashua River can be quite impressive at that spot during a good spring runoff. How about December? Average, I discovered, but still lovely.

I’ve shared the trails recently with a lot of dogs, leashed and unleashed. I don’t have any pets myself, but I have a soft spot for friendly and well-mannered dogs, like the majestic Newfoundland that accompanied its owners through Horse Hill yesterday when I was there. Just on the last couple of walks, I’ve seen a broader selection of canines than usual. To name a few: pit bulls, a Yorkie, standard poodles, a dachshund, a greyhound, and one exotic-looking creature that I had to resort to Wikipedia to identify, a Komondor. No wildlife. Perhaps the dogs saw to that.

The year will end with snow-free trails in my area, thanks to this warm spell. It won’t be the first time I’ll ring in the new year with spring-like conditions. I can always head a couple of hours north if the call of the snowshoes proves irresistible.

Mine Falls treat: beaver sighting

/ Ellen Kolb

Beaver seeking privacy from a nosy photographer.

Beaver seeking privacy from a nosy photographer.

Mine Falls Park in Nashua is a watery place, with the Nashua River and an old mill canal and millpond. It teems with life. I can count on seeing a variety of birds in all seasons. In the summer, eastern painted turtles sun themselves on broken tree branches partially submerged in the canal. Muskrats are common. A far rarer sight: beavers. They’re around, all right – just look at the evidence they leave behind in gnawed trees. Actually seeing one of the critters, though, is unusual. Early one evening this week, I hit the jackpot.

No, this isn’t the Loch Ness monster’s little cousin. It really is a beaver, as best as can be captured with my not-quite-top-shelf cell phone camera. I was lucky: as I scooted along a trail by the mill pond, I heard a sudden splash very close by. I had startled something. I looked over to the pond, saw ripples, and watched. Sure enough, up popped the beaver a few feet away. It swam away at a leisurely pace as I fumbled for my phone and snapped the picture.

I was at the park for the first brisk walk I’ve had in weeks. I walked what I call the full loop, a little less than five miles long, touching the park’s eastern and western ends. I saw the pair of swans that have nested in the cove for several years now, and it looks like they’ve found a new spot for their nest, a little more protected from gawkers like me.  A few trees have been downed by spring winds, and for once none  fell across a main trail. The peepers – frogs that sound like sleigh bells for just a few weeks each spring – were just tuning up as I passed a pond. Everything added up to a wonderful hour and a quarter. But the star of today’s show: an oversized rodent that refused to pose for me. A treat indeed.

 

Un-whining

/ Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

The New Year’s Day hike on Monadnock was the last time I got away for a hike, as opposed to walking in nearby parks.

Whine.

January and February have been filled with long hours of work and stress and lousy weather.

Whine.

My clothes are too snug, I’m out of breath after three flights of stairs, and I hate icy roads.

Whine, whine, whine.

When the weather was “nice” the other day (and please, no scolding me for being unprepared for all conditions), I forced myself to shake off my winter torpor for little while.

The cove at Mine Falls Park, awaiting the springtime return of the swans. Nashua Millyard in background.

The cove at Mine Falls Park, awaiting the springtime return of the swans. Nashua Millyard in background.

Hard to believe what a difference that made. After a couple of miles in a favorite park, my jeans were still too snug and I still had a pile of work waiting for me. But gradually, as I walked along the canal path in crunchy snow, the whines went away. Not permanently, for sure – for all its beauty, winter is not my favorite season – but fresh air and near-silence worked wonders.

I’ll still need a push to get out the door this season, but I’ll have this post to remind me it’s worth the effort.