As weather is a factor, and time is limited, I picked my day wisely. The forecast was cloudy and calm to no wind. Too bad Nature didn't listen. This year due to a bunch of things, and the emergency run to a vet for my dog, Snyder, I decided early on to walk in to my site. Four and a half miles in the middle of the night to hike in, to be there before sunrise, it sounded doable. I left my home for the 45 minute drive to Caribou Pond Rd in Carrabassett Valley just after 1am. It was a beautiful clear night, the meteor shooting across the night sky was a great touch. The 6 moose I saw also a nice touch. Nerve wracking, but nice. And the two foxes. Nice. I got to the parking spot, and the wind was blowing. Strong enough to make the trees sway. A lot.
Ok, so the weather isn't doing what the forecast called for, nothing unusual there. They always get it wrong. (Actually the forecast is better now than 20 years ago, but when they get it wrong, it still irks.)
Now 2 am is not the time to think too much without a lot of sleep. Emotions creep in, and well, plans can get scrapped. (No I wasn't crying and screaming, close, but not quite.) So I left. I still had time.
MBW, take 2.
I left Wednesday morning around 1am again. Drove over, almost had a run in with a moose. That was close, we missed by 10 feet. No coffee was needed for the rest of the night or day. Back at the parking, out of the car and walking by 2 am. I got to my route around 3:30am. There is a certain beauty to the night in the woods, an elegance that you really cannot adequately put into words. And standing in an old clearcut at that time of the morning, with the sky gradually brightening, and the first few bird songs. Well, it's worth it.
I started hearing Bicknell's Thrush around 3:45, and then some yellow-bellied flycatchers. Good signs, especially when they are the ones you want to hear. Finally after what seems to be forever, I started my count. The Bicknell's kept up, the White-throated sparrows started, and the Yellow-bellies shut up. I listened, watched the time, moved to the next. And repeated.
You wait a year, question yourself on why you willing give up sleep, walk in the dark woods for miles wearing a headlamp. Then shiver in the pre-dawn chill, and it all becomes clear as to why you do it. Vibrantly clear. The morning, a start to another day in Maine, birds calling, no traffic noises. Just you the birds, and the wind.
A few nights later, I go out for another route, but honestly throwing a few sheets of plywood on a bridge does not inspire confidence. And when you are driving in deepest, darkest Maine, you need to feel good about it.
Honestly, early morning is my favorite time of the day. I was never much of a night person, ( I usually go to bed around 9pm), but spending time out there, it's easy to love it, to enjoy and have fun. I can't wait for next year.
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