Tumbledown Mountain, 10/4/08

Click on images for larger views.For the first time in a long time, I got (made) a chance to get out for a hike. At the suggestion of my boss, I drove up to Weld, Maine on Saturday to hike Tumbledown Mountain. It's about a 2 hour drive to Weld from Portland, but it was beautiful fall day: crisp and sunny. I estimate 1 more week until we're at full peak for the change of leaves. Once north of Lewiston/Auburn, the roads travel through some of the most beautiful farmland in Maine--though the current crop of McCain signs was a constant reminder of why I live in Portland. The trailhead lies off a dirt road northwest of Weld village center. I chose to follow the Little Jackson trail, a track that would take you to nearby Little Jackson summit. I may do this next time, as I think it overlooks Tumbledown which would make a very pretty view. The trail roughly follows the eastern slope of a shallow defile in the hillside. After about 1.5 miles of steady climbing, I turned off on to the Pond Link Trail, headed west. There is a rushing stream in the crease of the defile which the trail crosses. I'd forgotten about the stream as I hiked and was reminded of it as a soft bass note was added to the sound of the wind in the trees.

Pond Link joins the Parker Ridge trail after about a mile, descending from a height-of-land with views of Crater Pond to the open saddle on top of Tumbledown. The day had become overcast and blustery during the climb and it was cold on the mountaintop so I didn't linger. There is no "moisture management" fabric that can really handle my moisture output. No matter the season, hiking makes me sweat like a fat man at a barbecue. After walking around the summit and near the pond, I returned down Parker Ridge. It was the right way to go, by my lights. Little Jackson is sheltered--you don't break into the open until you get to the Pond. Parker Ridge enjoys a fairly long stretch of open hiking on the ledges, with views to the south and east--very pretty in spite of the pewtery light through the cloud cover. The trail also descends through a quiet and dark pine stand, where water seeps out of the ground down the faces of the rocks, making them slick.

It was a good hike--not too many people on the summit and I only met a handful on the trail. The sun came out again when I got back to the car. I find it hard not to take these things personally. If I'd been only a couple of hours earlier or later, photos from the summit would have been spectacular (I Crummed* myself at the top, and took a few others--posted). And it would have been warm enough to sit and eat lunch, rather than eating and walking as I did.

Crummed.* Cold and windy.

The whole walk took me about four and a half hours--pretty close to the estimates made by the AMC in their Maine Mountain Guide. 10 years ago, I shredded those times. 10 years from now, I'll likely regard them as optimistic.

I took a long route home, first around the southern and western shores of Webb lake, then Route 124 to 11 to Gray before getting on the highway. As I stated, the farmland north of Turner through the Androscoggin watershed is some of the most beautiful in Maine. With the fields in stubble and fringed with turning trees I wanted to walk through it all.

TPL has done a fair amount of work in the Mt. Blue State Park/Tumbledown Mountain region (#s 21 & 22 in the link). Much of what you see from the summit as you look southeast toward Webb Lake has been protected through our work.

Toward Webb Lake and MBSP.

*Crummed: v. "Crumming" is the art of snapping a self-portrait with a camera held at arm's length. Its vulgar echoes are pure coincidence. The word is eponymous to its master, Tom Crumrine, author of Crumthekid and Crumtheteacher. It soon may be time for another "meet the blogroll" post.

Two Things Middle Yukon

Bank Swallow colony, east of the camp on the Yukon. Bank Swallows always nest in colonies; this is a rather large one.

Bank Swallows make good bear food, when the bears can get it--note the claw-marks. Click on the images to enlarge the view. In spite of this apparent mis-match, swallows in Alaska are not sorely pressed -- in Alaska.

As with many migratory species, the Bank Swallow is listed as an endangered specie in California where it is under threat from human activities.

The colony serves as a mutual-aid society. Swallows forage from dawn 'til dusk and strive to maintain close contact with the nest and young during that time. Swallows communicate good sources of food to one another, increasing efficiency and decreasing exposure among members of the colony.

Close-up of the Aspen Leaf Miner worm. Nearly all of Alaska's quaking aspen population is affected by the Leaf miner moth. Very tiny, the larvae live off the leaves and in less than a decade have spread throughout the state. The tracks of the miner worm give whole hillsides of trees a pale, gray-green cast. Trees can survive the moth, though it does retard their growth rate. Field biologists have found that trees that -- through genetic chance -- secrete nectar near their leaves are able to fend off the worm. The nectar attracts ants; the ants eat the miner larvae.

Dendrologists and entomologists are watching this remarkable explosion in the miner population carefully. Will the leaf miner ultimately destroy the aspen population? Will ants alter their feeding patterns to seek out the miner worm rather than the proxy nectar? Will aspens adapt as a population to produce nectar more commonly, thus attracting the ants and fighting the miner worm?

Trees have remarkable adaptive capacity that we only slightly understand. During the gypsy moth infestation of southern New England early in the 1980's, oak trees fought back against the tent caterpillar -- a gestational stage of the gypsy moth -- by altering the chemistry of their leaves. While this is remarkable in itself, even more amazing was their ability to warn other trees.

I can recall those summers from my childhood. Standing in the woods on a quiet early summer day, millions of masticating caterpillars created a persistent susseration that sounded like light rain. What I couldn't hear were Oak trees under attack sending out a distress call in the form of jasmonic acid. The acid drifted out on the air from tree to tree, prompting unaffected Oaks to increase the toxicity of their own leaf chemistry in advance of the assault.ⁿ

Might not the Quaking Aspen develop a similar response? May it already? With nearly every acre of the Alaskan population affected, it is to be hoped.

n: See Reading the Forested Landscape by Tom Wessels.

Ruby, AK 99768

1911-1917
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July 17, 2008
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Lighting out for the territory.

I reckon I got to light out for the territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she’s going to adopt me and sivilize me, and I can’t stand it. I been there before.
--Huck Finn

Borrowed Suits will be observing at least 10 days of radio silence as your corresp. heads out to the great northwest. I will be leaving from Boston's Logan airport tomorrow morning early headed for Ruby, Alaska. The flight will go from Beantown to Coffee Town (Seattle), to Fairbanks. I'll layover one night in Fairbanks then hop a bush plane to Ruby. From ruby it's about 5 miles downstream on the Yukon River to the home of the future Yukon River Lodge. Hopefully I won't have to swim.

The YRL is a project started about 2 years ago by Sam and Tamara Clark, seeking their own version of Dick Proenneke's "Back and Beyond."



Sam and Tamara haven't gone that extreme. They're building a lodge on the river to cater to sportsmen and outdoor enthusiasts looking for a spot tight against the Nowitna National Wildlife Refuge. The Yukon enjoys good salmon fishing, among other things.

Even though they're relatively close to Ruby, there are no roads to their place but the river. During early freeze-up and before ice-out, this means the place is as isolated as can be. In the winter they get to town by dogsled and snow machine; in the summer they rely on boats.

I don't expect to be doing too much sightseeing -- though the place itself is beautiful. The time will largely be devoted to building.

Food cache, YRL

I met Sam's parents through my work. Once they discovered that I used to be a nail-banger, they asked if I ever wanted to go to Alaska.

Well, yeah. But I could never afford the ticket.

"Not to worry," they said, "we have plenty of air miles built up. Why don't you come up this summer and help us build?"

I doubt I'd ever get a better offer, so I'm taking it. Expect a full report upon my return. In the meantime, you can check out this quicktime photoessay they've put together and nose around their site for pictures and descriptions.

See you soon.

Acadia, Sewall, May 2008