November 17, 2024: Reindeer on the Mountain

 Lichen, that is, Reindeer Lichen.

Reindeer Lichen (Cladonia rangiferina)

Hiking along the historic Algonquin Trail from Sandwich Notch to Black Mountain, I came across the most lush community of Reindeer Lichen I've ever seen.  It was one of the largest, and certainly the softest, greenest crop I've found.

This lush growth near the summit of Black Mountain must be the result of several factors coming together, especially considering how dry our summer has been.  Reindeer Lichen is a symbiotic hybrid of fungi and cyanobacteria, often growing on north-facing granite slabs which provide the minerals and limited sun they prefer.  The fungi and the bacteria (or algae) provide their partner with the nutrients the other can't produce on its own.  But they both also need water, and I'm guessing the geography around Black Mountain is very efficient at capturing moisture rising up from the valley below, condensing it into clouds and fog that is usable by the lichen.  

A lush growth of Reindeer Lichen.

We have Reindeer Lichen around Lake Wicwas and you can see a large community of it at the White Mountain Ledge in the Hamlin Town Forest.  Like most patches I've seen, the lichen at the White Mountain Ledge is gray in color and quite dry and brittle, which is one reason it's important to not step on it as the fragile stems will break off, destroying years of growth in a rather unhospitable environment.  This lichen grows at a rate of about 1/4 inch per year.  

Evidence of the lack of rain was evident by the dry stream beds along the trail.

Even crossing streams with water didn't even require much of rock-hop.

Another find on granite right in the center of the trail was weasel scat.  

That sample looked like it was only a day or two old, but another looked very fresh, probably left that morning.

This scat appears to have leaves in it.

The mountains are pretty empty this time of year so I guess the weasels can go wherever they want.  I saw no other people on my hike and heard only a couple of Blue Jays and Chickadees that were annoyed by my presence on their mountain.  I also heard and saw one lone raven flying along the thermals rising up from the south-facing ledges of Black Mountain which were warming in the morning sun.  As it flew it made a short musical call that sounded like water drops falling into a well.

If you're curious where Black Mountain is, it is readily seen from many viewpoints around Meredith including the White Mountain Ledge, the viewpoint from the Yellow Trail near the clearing by Wicwood Shores Rd, and even driving down Route 3 into Meredith Village.

Black Mountain in winter as seen from the White Mountain Ledge.

While hiking silently along the ancient, time-worn Algonquin Trail, I found myself thinking again and again how I was walking a path laid out thousands of years ago by the indigenous people of N'dakina, wondering how many feet have traversed this path over the millennia.

The Algonquin Trail as it departs from Sandwich Notch.

It was quiet at Lake Wicwas too, without a single duck sighting.  About all I have to offer is this deer scrape right in the trail.

Like weasels leaving scat in obvious places, a buck will scrape down to bare soil and leave its scent to let all the other deer know that it has claimed this particular patch of the forest - and all the does that live in it!

The beavers did come back to finish removing the branch on that beech tree they felled last week.

Last week.

This week.

They took the branch away, along with three other small trees beside it.

Those beavers sure are efficient loggers.

I also came across a couple of trees that were felled by the wind in one of our recent winds storms.

It's always interesting to examine the root structure you don't usually see, as well as all the soil and rocks wrapped up in it.

How often do you get to see the underside of a tree?

So it's a quiet time here waiting for winter to arrive.  There was no snow in the notch, but soon Sandwich Notch Road will be closed and the Algonquin Trail to Black Mountain will be inaccessible except by ski and snowmobile.

Just a trace of snow at higher elevation.

It was nice to get one last trip through the notch before winter settles in.

October 13, 2024: Anthocyanin

It sounds scary, but anthocyanin is what produces the red and crimson foliage that makes New Hampshire famous this time of year.  

Red Maples are the red champions of the autumn nature show.

Yellow and orange colors in leaves are present year-round but are only revealed in the fall when the leaves stop producing the chlorophyll that conceals their underlying colors. 

Photosynthesis ceases at the leaf tips first and works back towards the stem.

Trees with red leaves, however, actually create the pigment anthocyanin as they shut down photosynthesis in the fall.  They don't do it for our viewing pleasure or to extend the tourist season, but rather because the chemical helps protect plants against cold temperatures.

Black gum are less prevalent than maples but have even deeper red color in their leaves.

They use some of the sugars created over the summer to form this compound.  Anthocyanin is produced by a wide variety of plants with red, blue, and purple coloring including blueberries, tomatoes, red cabbage, beets, grapes, corn, even sweet potato.  It's one of several chemicals in the flavonoid family which are known to have antioxidant and anti-inflammatory benefits to humans.

Indian Cucumber has only a splash of anthocyanin.  The berries aren't edible, but the tubers are.

The color of these plants varies because anthocyanin changes color with pH level:  it is red in acidic conditions, purple in neutral, and yellow in alkaline conditions.  The chemical is thus useful in measuring pH levels - remember pH strips in high school chemistry?  Wikipedia provides lots of information on anthocyanin if you're interesed in learning more.

Jack-in-the-pulpit berries must be quite acidic.

Sumac is another red star this time of year.

Blueberry bushes are known to love acidic soil, and their leaves also turn dark red in the fall.

These were at 2400' elevation on the ledges up to Black Mountiain.

Black Mountain State Forest is in Haverhill and Benton, NH, and though the foliage there seemed past peak that far north on Friday, it was still pretty.

Thank you TB for the recommendation - it was a great hike!  

Around the Lakes Region, the maples are still at peak color.  I'll end with a few sights from around Lake Wicwas.

It's not too lake to take it all in!

December 6, 2020: A Quick Transition

The week started out in May and ended in December.  Spring-like rain filled up the lakes and rivers and 60 degree weather was just right for a late-season kayak and running in shorts and shirtsleeves.  But the lake was cold enough that fog formed when the warm humid air brushed up against the water.

One stubborn tree refuses to let go.

It was so calm on Tuesday that the fog just hung there for hours, painting tranquil scenes; I was the only thing out there making ripples on the surface of Lake Wicwas.

It was so quiet that I could hear water running on the far side of the shoreline from where I was paddling, so I followed the sound to the source.  There I found a pretty stream, swollen from the rain, emptying into Lake Wicwas what it had collected from the drainage on the western side of the lake.

A December Waterfall

It was a small stream but it had enough force to push a big pile of leaves downstream and deposit them in the lake.

Farther along I encountered a bald eagle sitting high in a tree watching over the lake for us.  

The Lake Wicwas Sentry.

I didn't see any loons on what was probably my last liquid outing of the year, but a few days earlier Amy Wilson did find the chicks and she took some incredible pictures.  

Harold or Betty?  (Photo by Amy Wilson)

Photo by Amy Wilson

They demonstrated their fishing prowess for Amy, and she is talented enough to capture the immensity of the fish they are catching - and somehow managing to swallow.

Photos by Amy Wilson

Now that's a mouthful!

Amy is a truly accomplished artist and photographer - you can find more of her art work at her website, Amy Wilson Photography.

That was early in the week.  Towards the middle we had a couple colder days, and even received a dusting of snow a bit north and at higher elevations.  I went for a short hike up in the Sandwich range, departing from Sandwich Notch Road, taking the Algonquin Trail up to Black Mountain.

Approaching the summit of Black Mountain.

There was just enough snow on the ground to see there had been snowshoe hares running along the trail, but the snow was so thin the tracks didn't come out in pictures.  Here's what they look like; this was taken in 2018 on Mount Welch, just a couple miles west of Black Mountain.

Snowshoe Hare tracks on Mount Welch just four miles away.

There's always something special about seeing these prints, and knowing these animals live in this harsh terrain above 3000'.  

It's not as much fun to see the lack of snow on the trails at Waterville Valley.

Bare ski trails at Waterville Valley.  (That's Mount Lafayette looming behind.)

They should be open by now, at least on man-made snow.

And that brings us to last night's Nor'easter, which was kind of bust here, but at least it felt a little like December.  We barely got an inch of wet slush, while some locations received close to a foot of snow.  It did make it seem wintery enough to put out the bird feeders - now I just hope those bears really have bedded down for the winter.