Friday, May 17, 2024

Anamaki Chronicles - The Forest Gump of Dominica - Dr. Rick, Dr. Rick! Come Quick!

 Anamaki Chronicles


The Forest Gump of Dominica
Dr. Rick, Dr. Rick! Come Quick!

Rick Stobaeus is the quintessential country doctor to the people of Dominica . . . for their animals.

Wayne D. King

This week I learned that my old friend Rick Stobaeus had suffered a stroke. Fortunately, his long-term prognosis looks good but anyone who knows Rick Stobaeus knows that a wheelchair is not the preferred mode of transport for the peripatetic Forrest Gump of the Carribean Nature Island of Dominica. That’s why I’m convinced he will not be tied to that chair for very long. The determination in his eyes alone conveyed that story to me when I spoke with him recently.


Rick and I have known one another since high school. (He’d be very upset with me if I didn’t mention that we were students at Northfield Mount Hermon in Gill Massachusetts. Rick never misses a chance to promote his high school alma mater).

Back in the 70s, when he was taking care of Mr. Leavitt’s lab animals and helping to revitalize the farm program at NMH it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that animals were his life’s calling. He has carried that love for animals into his professional life.

Just before the Pandemic locked down the Island nation, and much of the world, I had the pleasure of traveling to Dominica to visit old friends who had landed on the island for different reasons and from different points of reference.

Wini Dean, was a business leader and a fixture in the state capital in New Hampshire, operating the most chic boutique in the city. Wini had moved to the island with her new love reggae musician Free Joseph. Free Joseph was a native of Dominica. As fate would have it, Wini chose an apt time to make her transition - it was almost as if she knew that her boutique “Isis” would not have the same cache it once did after the events of 9-11. Rick Stobeaus moved down a few years later after some unpleasantness that stemmed from a dispute over the burial of a horse, for which he was vindicated, leaving him with a bad taste and hastening what was a transition he had already been planning.

I stayed with Wini and Free in their home in in the Lubiere section of Roseau, the capitol city of Dominica (aka Dominique) and visited Rick at his home in the “Belles” area of the “Nature Island”. Between them I got what can only be described as the “cooks tour” of the Island nation, experiencing both the incredible beauty of the island and its unique culture as well.

The Belles is in the highland rainforests of Dominica a land of pure mountain springs and rivers, hot springs, boiling lakes, and crystal cascades.

On my very first day there Rick took me to a hot spring where I witnessed him working the crowd like a seasoned politician - in a green veterinary smock of course. In fact, in the entire time I was there he never once was seen without his green doctor's smock - unless he wore no shirt at all. It wasn’t just his uniform, it was his flag.

The only competing interest for Rick - besides his four-legged and winged patients of course - is his new home. Rick knows a little something about rebuilding his life, he’s had to do it before. So when he and his wife Carol began building their little island paradise on Dominica he made sure to plan it so he could offer old friends a refuge and even have the space and place for rounding up a few new ones.

In just about ten years, since he closed his animal hospital in the states and moved to this Caribbean nation of fewer than 100,000 people, Richard Stobaeus has become a fixture on the island and the “go-to” guy for whatever ails the pets and the livestock on the island of Dominica. Part guru, part gadfly, part politician, Stobaeus crisscrosses the island daily on his rounds, treating goats, spaying and neutering cats and dogs, educating and cajoling farmers on the best way to keep their animals happy, healthy and productive and acting as the cheerleader-in-chief for the island of Dominica.

I joined Rick for a day of rounds that took us all over the island from beautiful long stretches of sandy beach to a chocolate shop where they grow their own cocoa right on site, to the markets of Roseau, the capital city, where just driving through the city with windows down brought shouts of “Dr. Rick! Dr. Rick! Dr. Rick!” Rick seems to revel in the attention.

In the car as we went from farm to farm, he alternated between telling me stories from his youth and waxing poetic about the future of his adopted homeland. When he wasn’t reminiscing, he was describing his hopes for the island. His big dream is to start a Veterinary college on the island. With already-existing infrastructure, in the form of a recently abandoned Medical school, and the support of the political establishment on the island, it appears that he is well on the way to realizing that dream.

Life may have thrown Dr. Rick a curveball but it hasn’t struck him out. I’m betting he’ll be back in the batter’s box soon enough, flying his green flag and rocking his ponytail.




Thursday, May 16, 2024

Remembering Ruth Horner - Host of Green Berets and Longhorn Cattle Alike

 Rattlesnake Ridge: Remembering Ruth Horner 

Host of Green Berets and Longhorn Cattle Alike



It was spring of 1973. I stood in the middle of a beautiful field along the Pemigewasset River as veterinarian Paul Piche administered to a large longhorn steer prostrate in the middle of the field. She was suffering from dehydration, a secondary condition brought on by another that I don’t really recall in the fog of time. Dr Paul had treated her for the primary condition, but the fact that she could not stand, attributed to her weakness from dehydration, was now the primary danger to this massive old girl.


Looking over our shoulders that day was a scrappy 70+ year old woman named Ruth Horner. With an old scarf wrapped around her head and a tattered coat and staff to help her maintain her balance, Ruth fretted over her poor girl.


She was also muttering something about her “green berets”. It was so completely out of context that I wondered at the time if Ruth wasn’t a bit “dotty”, in the parlance of the day.


Doc Piche said that she was going to need another liter or two of glucose solution to replace her fluids but if we could just make sure that happened he was confident that she would be up and walking by morning. I was young and filled with the enthusiasm and vigor of youth so I volunteered to go home and get my sleeping bag and stay the night with the old girl.


And so I came to know Ruth Horner. Ruth was no slouch, though you would not know it from her dress when she was home on the farm. For many years she was secretary to one of Plymouth’s most prominent attorneys. George Ray, who was also Plymouth’s town moderator for many years. She knew where all the bodies were buried as it is sometimes said. Alas, she never told me because she was very serious about keeping the confidences of her old boss.


Her home, a modest old farmhouse nestled into the side of a hillside in Thornton had running water only because the gravity-fed spring that came from the hillside managed to deliver it - cold of course - year round unless there was a particularly cold spell, but she had to heat the water herself on her wood cookstove. Her “bathroom” was a “two-holer” privy built into the woodshed that was at the end of a narrow hallway, more inside the attached barn than the house itself. Having never had occasion to use it, I can’t personally attest to the fact that the annual Sears and Roebuck catalog served as her source of toilet paper, but that was common lore.


Ruth at her cookstove


Her cookstove was also her only source of heat.

For about five years after that fateful night, I would visit Ruth in the fall and cut up firewood to ensure she had sufficient wood to keep her warm for the winter.


But on that first night, I shared a cup of coffee with Ruth to warm up before I headed out for the night to keep my patient company. She told me that she had kept a small herd of longhorn herefords for many years. I assume now that she must have sold one or two a year to help make ends meet but she spoke of them and treated them like her beloved pets when she wandered around among them during the day.


Again that night, Ruth made mention of “my green berets” arriving the next day but I was too polite to press her for details about it, still thinking that she was rambling incoherently.


The next morning, at about 5 am, old “Mollie” stumbled to her feet. There was no TikTok moment when the old girl expressed her thanks by nuzzing me as I watched from my sleeping bag. For me, her survival was thanks enough. I watched her amble toward the barn where I am sure an extra helping of grain, along with her hay would be waiting.


Suddenly, the sky was filled with the thumping of rotor blades, and as I looked up, dozens of parachutes unfurled as Army Green Beret paratroopers descended onto the fields of Ruth Horner’s farm. Within an hour the camp had been established for several hundred Green Beret soldiers who, as it turned out, annually used Ruth’s secluded field as their White Mountain training base.


As I left that day I watched as Ruth walked across the field, her herd keeping a safe distance and a wary eye on the jamboree, her wooden staff steadying her progress.


No doubt she was headed off to share breakfast and company with her Green Berets.








Post script:


Sometimes my friends joke about my obsession with photographing washlines. It all began with this image I photographed at Ruth’s house. She was agast that I was taking a picture of her “undies” - so I promised her I would not reveal the source of the image, I hope she won’t haunt me now that I have - 50 years later.





“Washday at the Claus House”


For a signed original of this image, click here:

https://www.waynedking.com/collections/129533


For an unsigned open-edition print of this image, click here:

https://fineartamerica.com/featured/washday-at-the-claus-house-wayne-king.html





About Wayne D. King: Author, podcaster, artist, activist, social entrepreneur and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor. His art (WayneDKing.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published five books of his images, most recently, "New Hampshire - a Love Story”. His novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high-voltage adventure to stop a private powerline as well as the photographic books are available at most local bookstores or on Amazon. He lives on the “Narrows” in Bath, NH at the confluence of the Connecticut and Ammonoosuc Rivers and proudly flies the American, Iroquois and Abenaki Flags. His publishing website is: Anamaki.com.


Wednesday, November 1, 2023

NH House and Senate Prepare to Gut Citizen Involvement in Siting Large Power Facilities

 



The Whisper of Wind
Signed Originals.    Unsigned Open Edition Prints




NH House and Senate Prepare to Gut Citizen Involvement in Siting Large Power Facilities

HB 609 Will eliminate the Site Evaluation Committee and Create a Bureaucratic Freeway for Everything from Nukes to Kooks, just bring money.  



It may be that I am just nostalgic for a time when State Representatives and Senators were responsive to constituents. That’s not a partisan statement, when I was first elected to the NH House and later the Senate both houses were firmly in the hands of the Republican Party. It wasn’t my party, but irrespective of whether they were to my left or right they had integrity and they were fair in their treatment of the public. 


No self-respecting Chair of a committee would even think of taking testimony without alternating between those in favor and those in opposition to a bill. Furthermore a Chair would NEVER preside over a hearing in which he or she was the sponsor of the legislation. It’s bad form, it’s unethical, and it’s just plain wrong to allow a bill’s sponsor to use the power of the chair to conduct a running commentary and debate with members of the public seeking to simply have their voices heard. 


But that is just what Rep. Michael Vose (R-Epping), Sponsor of HB 609 and Chairman of the House Science, Technology, and Energy Committee, the Committee hearing the bill, is doing.  


The public hearings on this bill features a parade of suits, vested business and bureaucratic interests, testifying at length and only when the public finally gets its opportunity - two hours into the meeting -  Rep Vose announces that they will be limited to 2 minutes in their testimony. 


It seems if you came to the public hearing wearing a suit and tie you could speak as long as you cared to; but if you came looking like you left the dairy farm, the garage or the woodlot hastily, sorry, you have two minutes to make your case. 


While introducing the bill back in March, Vose said the “SEC has a lack of institutional knowledge, sparse technical expertise, turnover, and a dearth of funding and dedicated support staff.” That’s political speak for “we know better than you” and, just to add insult to injury, “we will reward ourselves with more money and personnel that we could have just given to the SEC.” 

  

“Moving jurisdiction to the PUC,” he said, “would professionalize the site evaluation process, making it more timely and efficient with increased resources and staffing.”  No one thought to just suggest that we give the SEC those same resources and we get the staffing we need but maintain citizen involvement?


The bottom line is this: There is NO need to eliminate the SEC. It has served us well over the years but it has one problem: It’s too damn responsive to those pesky citizens. This is a solution in search of a problem. There is no problem, except that the vested energy interests might have to work harder to build consensus and that is just too inconvenient for bureaucrats who are dependent upon the politicians and the business interests who would rather not be bothered with justifying their projects. After all, they know better than all those hayseeds filling the public benches and asking to be included in the process.


Less than a decade ago the law creating the Site Evaluation Committee was reformed to improve its function and the public’s access to the process. The reforms - brilliantly crafted by Senator Bradley and former aid to Governor Judd Gregg and Forest Society Representative Will Abbott, among others, have worked. Some projects have been approved and some have not. But there is one project that really sticks in the craw of the politicians and the energy interests: The Northern Pass debacle that led to the thumping that Eversource received - a unanimous and well-deserved thumping by the way from both the SEC and the State Supreme Court. 


We should be asking that our government be MORE responsive to the needs of citizens, not less. If energy interests and bureaucrats and politicians figure out how to work for consensus, so much the better. 


If you ever wondered whether “agency capture” was a problem at the State level in addition to the Federal level, wonder no more. 




Notes & Links


The “final” public hearing on HB 609 is scheduled for November 6, 2023 at 9:30am in the Legislative office building. 




A Ripple of Hope 
Signed Originals.    Unsigned Open Edition Prints



About Wayne D. King: Author, podcaster, artist, activist, social entrepreneur and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor. His art (WayneDKing.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published five books of his images, most recently, "New Hampshire - a Love Story”. His novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline as well as the photographic books are available at most local bookstores or on Amazon. He lives on the “Narrows” in Bath, NH at the confluence of the Connecticut and Ammonoosuc Rivers and proudly flies the American, Iroquois and Abenaki Flags. His publishing website is: Anamaki.com.


Podcasts are produced at Anamaki Studios in Bath, NH. 

This land lies in N’dakinna, the traditional ancestral homeland of the Abenaki, Sokoki, Koasek, Pemigewasset, Pennacook and Wabanaki Peoples past and present. We acknowledge and honor with gratitude those who have stewarded N’dakinna throughout the generations.







Sandstone Moon Over Arches National Park
Signed Originals      Unsigned Open Edition Prints







Workout Washday Impressions
Signed Originals     Unsigned Open Edition Prints




Sunday, October 15, 2023

Keep Mount Washington’s Name but Restore the Asquamchumaukee

 A Former Mountain Guide and an Abenaki Descendant Makes the Case for a Split Decision


Painted Bend in the Asquamchumaukee

So much of my time during my daily walks now is consumed by thoughts of my Native American heritage and how and where I reside within the circle of life in which I find myself. Though I have always had an innate sense of my heritage it was not until I was well into my middle age that my father revealed to me that my Grandfather was half Abenaki and half Iroquois. My father only reluctantly shared this with me because he had made a promise to his own father to continue a cultural survival practice of the Abenaki known as “hiding in plain sight”, a practice of blending into the white culture as a means of avoiding the harsh realities of discrimination against native people. I never expected that I would find myself in the twilight of life trying to rebraid the sweetgrass of my heritage, my life, and my spiritual and artistic place in the cosmos, yet here I am. 

Most recently I have come face to face with a challenge that presents cross-currents in that process. Like trying to run a rapid where two rivers flow together creating conflicting water hazards as well as exciting and interesting features that make the moment challenging and treacherous; disrupting my balance, throwing me into a miasma of standing waves, holes, eddys, rocks and drops.    

It’s not an existential challenge, like those I have written about with respect to wealth disparity or Climate Change or AI. In fact, to most folks it is probably a blip on their radar, if that. 



Autumn in a Blue Pool -
Signed Original
.  Unsigned Open Edition Prints

Recently, Kris Pastoriza of Easton, NH submitted a petition to restore the original names of Mount Washington and the Baker River to their Abenaki names. 

The Baker River, as far back as anyone’s memories extend was known as the Asquamchumauke or Asquamchumaukee. I was raised with the word Asquamchumaukee ending in a double e. Perhaps because some folks pronounced the word with the last syllable “kee” and others pronounced the final syllable as “auke”.  You will often find folks referring to the mountain, from which its waters flow, Moosilauke, the same way.  Neither is wrong, neither is right. Like many of the names and words from native languages the reality is that no one can dictate with certainty the correct English spelling for them. Chances are that the first time they ever appeared in text it was committed to paper by the hand of an uneducated woodsman who was barely able to write himself,  or - on rare occasions - herself. 

Asquamchumaukee is an Abenaki word, variously translated as “Place of Mountain Water” and “Salmon Spawning Place” The river, of the same name, runs 36.4-mile-long (58.6 km) traversing the towns of Warren, Wentworth, and Rumney in Central, NH. It rises on the south side of Mount Moosilauke and runs south and east to its confluence with the Pemigewasset River in Plymouth

The area has been home to the Abenaki people for more than 18,000 years and, except for occasional forays by the Haudinausanee, also known as the Iroquois, to hunt or pester the Abenaki, they were the inheritors of the region from the paleo-Indian group known as the Algonquin from whom their heritage and language is derived. Algonquin is the root language for many nations, ranging from the Abenaki in the east to the Sioux and Cheyenne of the plains. The villages and groupings of the Abenaki have, until recently, dominated the area.  



Autumn in the Birches - Signed Originals


Mount Washington, as most New Hampshire folks know, is the highest Mountain in the northeastern US at 6,288 feet above sea level. According to New Hampshire lore, the first man to ascend to the summit of Mount Washington was a fellow named Darby Field. Field's ascent, in 1642, was actually of Mt Agiochocook, an Abenaki name said to be derived from one of the Algonquin names for the Mountain; although it too bears several different spellings and even names.  The mountain would not begin the journey to its new name for another 140 years when it would be named, informally, by a cartographer, Manasseh Cutler. 

Field's 18-day hike to the summit took place when he was 32 years of age, and - because Field himself was illiterate - there is no first-hand account of the journey. What little we know about it comes from the journals of Governor John Winthrop of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Early accounts of the journey suggest that Field made the trip simply for the love of adventure but a recently discovered letter suggests that he was in search of a route to Lake Champlain in what is now Vermont for a commercial enterprise looking to expand their fur trade.


Rowing by Moonlight


Since Field was of European descent, he was credited as the first to climb, though he had an entire entourage of native guides, at least two of whom ascended the mountain with Field according to Winthrop. Unsurprisingly, their names have been lost to history.

History texts claim that the Abenaki did not climb the highest peak in the northeast because they believed it was the dwelling place of evil spirits, and death or bad luck would come to those who tried, though chances are that this was a convenient myth created by colonial minds since the Abenaki word translates roughly to “Place of the Great Spirit”.  

The Abenaki, who called themselves Wabanaki are part of a broader confederacy that included 5 major sub-groups: Abenaki, Malecite, Micmac, Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot. with small sub-groups bearing more recognizable names: Pemigewasset, Winnipesaukee, Contoocook, Pigwacket, Sokoki, Cowasuck (aka Androscoggin) and Ossipee, among others. 

So now we come to the crux of my own personal dilemma. 

My first adult job was as a guide in the White Mountains. I have traipsed from Old Spec to Monadnock, from Mt Chocorua to Moosilauke. Much of that happened before the revelation of my Abenaki and Iroquois roots, yet even then I relished the chance to share the legends and stories of the Native American people for whom many of the Mountains of New Hampshire are named. 

Yet, I must profess an ambivalence to renaming Mt. Washington. Not because there is any reason to shy away from Agiochocook, but because it sits at the pinnacle of a range named the Presidentials and these mountains represent the founders who laid down the guardrails that even allow us to have this conversation and “first in the hearts of his countrymen” was George Washington. 

Like all of the founders of this nation, and all of us for that matter, Washington was a human being with feet of clay. Yet he was also a great American hero and the foibles of his humanity should be taught not erased. There are mountains enough here for us to celebrate all of the American family and that is what I want our children to learn. 

Now the Asquamchumaukee is a different matter altogether. 

In 1712 Thomas Baker set off from Northhampton Massachusetts with a troop of scalp hunters. These were not soldiers, they were not in the service of anything more than the bounty that had been established on Indian scalps. They were self-styled Indian killers. 

At the confluence of the Asquamchumaukee and Pemigewasset rivers, they came upon a peaceful village of Pemigewasset Abenaki. The men, of the village are said to have been off hunting when Baker’s scalp hunters came upon the village of women, children and the elderly. They attacked the village and indiscriminately killed everyone, scalping them, stealing their furs and other provisions and then returned to Northhampton to collect the bounty on scalps. 

Baker never returned to the area and never distinguished himself in any other capacity in his lifetime. This one bloodthirsty and barbaric act would be the pinnacle of his career and for that the river was named in his “honor”. 



Deep in a Dorchester Wood
Signed Originals     Unsigned Open Edition Prints

But there was no honor involved, only shame.

Years later the Abenaki would capture John Stark a few miles northwest on the river. He would be led to their village in Saint Francis as a captive and over the course of a year living among them, adopted into the tribe before being released to return to New Hampshire where he would become General John Stark the Hero of Bennington, often said to be the turning point of the Revolutionary War. It was John Stark who yelled the famous phrase to his comrades: “Live Free or Die”. 

For the rest of his days, John Stark would always remember the Abenaki people for the great kindness that they had shown to him. 

Ms. Pastoriza was not incorrect in the factual case she made. She should be praised for seeding this discussion. If for no other reason than it allows us all to examine the nuances of the times and the ongoing struggle for the dignity of all people.

On the other hand, the members of the State Council on Resources and Development have not acquitted themselves likewise. They are the ultimate example of agency corporate capture. 

Mark E. Doyle, director of the New Hampshire Department of Safety Division of Emergency Services and Communication, who wrote that the change “could prevent or significantly delay the provisioning of emergency services,” to both the river and mountain “because of potential confusion, lack of familiarity, or pronunciation during stressful, life-safety situations.” 





Apples in a Hedgerow No 1 - Original



What hogwash.

Doyle should be relieved of his position for either incompetence or lack of imagination. His remarks demonstrate that he is either woefully unqualified or he was cynically casting around for a reason to oppose the petition and could come up with no more creative approach than to suggest that the sophistication of his technology and the ignorance of his subordinates would pose some threat to their ability to respond to an emergency. He clearly believes that the rest of us are all far too stupid to see through his juvenile explanation. I can assure you that we are not. If they are going to keep him in a position for which he is clearly not qualified, at the very least, a fourth grader should be hired to teach him about the novel concepts of computers and GPS. 

As for Scott Mason of Fish and Game, well most of us who witnessed his sycophantic behavior as handmaiden to Eversource during the Northern Pass fight knew he was unqualified for the position to begin with and his appointment was never a serious matter to begin with. 

Links

https://indigenousnh.com/2018/12/06/the-wobanadenok/

About Wayne D. King: Author, podcaster, artist, activist, social entrepreneur and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor. His art (WayneDKing.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published five books of his images, most recently, "New Hampshire - a Love Story”. His novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high-voltage adventure to stop a private powerline as well as the photographic books are available at most local bookstores or on Amazon. He lives on the “Narrows” in Bath, NH at the confluence of the Connecticut and Ammonoosuc Rivers and proudly flies the American, Iroquois and Abenaki Flags. His publishing website is: Anamaki.com.

Produced at Anamaki Studios in Bath, NH. 

This land lies in N’dakinna, the traditional ancestral homeland of the Abenaki, Sokoki, Koasek, Pemigewasset, Pennacook and Wabanaki Peoples past and present. We acknowledge and honor with gratitude those who have stewarded N’dakinna throughout the generations.

Sumac Fall
Signed Originals.    Unsigned Open Edition Prints


Spirit Pony in a Painted Dreamscape
Signed Originals.    Open edition prints


Flames along the Asquamchumaukee

 Signed Originals.     Unsigned Open Edition Prints

The Hitching Post Lilac
Signed Originals    Unsigned Open Edition Prints

Sunday, October 1, 2023

Take a Late Fall Tamarack Tour - After the gawkers are gone a season of gold beckons.


Cattails and Tamarack Under a Painted Sky        waynedking.com


Want an extraordinary foliage experience without the crowds? Try a Tamarack Tour. 

We live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.  Yet for many of us who live here, it becomes all too commonplace.  We find ourselves annoyed by the inconveniences that arise from the flood of visitors to the Granite State during the foliage season. Sure we are often captivated by a favorite tree in foliage or a special place where the changing seasons have a near-spiritual draw for us. . . but all those tourists! All those long waits for a seat at our usual restaurants or jockeying for parking on streets that usually have plenty of open spaces! If you are grateful for anything, it’s probably that the season only lasts for a few weeks. 

So, for those who bridle at the crowds of the foliage season in NH and Vermont, but still can find that spark of romanticism that the bittersweet days of autumn can bring to our souls, there is an alternative: Plan a Tamarack Tour.

The Tamarack is also known as the American Larch. Larches are the only coniferous tree that loses its needles in the fall and they do so in a spectacular fashion. In the later weeks of autumn in the Northeast - generally well after the mind-bending colors of the traditional foliage have passed - the Tamarack will begin to turn yellow. Eventually, its needles will fall off, unlike its siblings of the pine, fir, and spruce varieties, but not before presenting its own autumnal display.

If there hasn’t been a windstorm, stripping leaves from the trees, many of the other trees will still have their leaves, but they will have gone to brown, setting up a near-perfect tableau for the colors of the Tamarack, splashing varied hues of yellow across the landscape and mixing with the greens and blues of the conifers and the browns of the deciduous trees. 

For the aesthetic, it can be a heart-melting visual experience.

According to the UNH Cooperative Extension: “Tamarack is very intolerant of shade, and is referred to by foresters as a pioneer species. In other words, it is one of the first species to occupy a disturbed site, establishing readily on burns, clearcuts, and abandoned agricultural land, especially those with poorly drained soils. It is commonly seen growing on roadsides, old log landings, field edges, and other places where a significant disturbance created an opening and exposed mineral soil. Tamarack seeds germinate well on mineral soil and on moss, which is why they can become established in peatlands.

Due to tamarack’s affinity for wet sites and its intolerance of shade, it is typically found in association with other species that share similar ecological characteristics. Some common associates in wet organic soils are black spruce and northern white cedar. On sites with slightly better drainage, balsam fir and white spruce are found growing with tamarack. The species is also found in association with quaking aspen, grey birch, and white birch on old field sites, along with alder, willow, and red-osier dogwood in areas of old poorly drained pasture or field.”

Tamarack is an Algonquin word, the ancient root language of both my Paternal grandparents - he of the Iroquois Confederacy and she of the Abenaki nation. The word translates roughly into “wood used for snowshoes”. The wood is flexible yet tough. Native people also used the fine roots of tamarack to sew birch bark for both dwellings and canoes. Other uses of tamarack by native people included dogsled runners, boat gunwales and ribs, and fish traps.

In his extraordinary book “A Sand County Almanac” Aldo Leopold described the color of Tamarack in fall as “smoky gold” but variations in the mineral composition of the soil can yield colors in a broad spectrum of yellow and gold.

Take Your Best Shot:

The best places to see Tamarack are in wet, boreal areas, especially in the North Country and Great North Woods of New Hampshire (where you might get lucky and see a moose or two as well) and the Northeast Kingdom in Vermont. There are also some select areas in Southern NH and the Monadnock region where you will find them, though you may need to enlist the help of a local native to identify those spots (look for the ponds and wetlands).

The image below was captured on the southern end of The Easton Road between Franconia and Rte 112 in Easton, just north of Franconia Notch. I came upon it at a particularly sharp bend in the road, at the end of which a bog revealed itself dusted by the season’s first snow and the bright yellow of its Tamarack.  It inspired the poem beneath it, as well as a scene in the book I was writing at the time,  "Sacred Trust". Penned later by the warmth of a fire in my beloved home in Rumney, my Alice sitting by my side, filling the draft pages of my novel with the red pen marks of an editor. Laughing just enough to bolster my confidence to continue.




Notes & Links





Recommended scenic roads and hikes on your Tamarack trail.


Bradford Bog: Hike the bog from East Washington Road in Bradford, NH. There is a trail guide and map available online at Bradfordnh.org 


The Easton Road, Franconia to Rte 112. 


Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge, Whitefield, NH. Pondicherry has often been called one of the “crown jewels” of New Hampshire’s landscape, and visitors to the site will easily understand why. The ponds, wetlands, and forests of this refuge support a wide variety of significant ecological features. Trailhead address: Presidential Rail Trail, 289 Airport Road, Whitefield, NH 03598.

Tripoli Road: Waterville Valley to Rte 93

Hoar Pond: Nussdorfer Nature Area, New Ipswich, NH The area around Hoar Pond is populated with a stand of tamarack. Parking off Old Country Road, which is found from River Road off Route 124. Look for brown and white signs.

Ponemah Bog Trail, Amherst, NH

https://www.nhaudubon.org/lands/sanctuaries/ponemah-bog/

The Fells, Philbrick-Crecenti Bog, Sunapee NH

https://lake-sunapee-living.com/lake-sunapee-hiking-biking/philbrick-cricenti-bog-trail/



Quincy Bog in Rumney, NH lays claim to a champion Tamarack. Founded by the legendary couple Ann and Joe Kent of Rumney, Quincy Bog has a beautiful little trail, just over a mile long skirting the bog with special walkways made from (you guessed it!) Tamarack which is strong and especially impervious to rot. 


UNH Cooperative Extension Tamarack Page:

https://extension.unh.edu/blog/2019/12/tamarack





About Wayne D. King: Author, podcaster, artist, activist, social entrepreneur and recovering politician. A three-term State Senator, 1994 Democratic nominee for Governor. His art (WayneDKing.com) is exhibited nationally in galleries and he has published five books of his images, most recently, "New Hampshire - a Love Story”. His novel "Sacred Trust" a vicarious, high voltage adventure to stop a private powerline as well as the photographic books are available at most local bookstores or on Amazon. He lives on the “Narrows” in Bath, NH at the confluence of the Connecticut and Ammonoosuc Rivers and proudly flies the American, Iroquois and Abenaki Flags. His publishing website is: Anamaki.com.


Produced at Anamaki Studios in Bath, NH. 

This land lies in N’dakinna, the traditional ancestral homeland of the Abenaki, Sokoki, Koasek, Pemigewasset, Pennacook and Wabanaki Peoples past and present. We acknowledge and honor with gratitude those who have stewarded N’dakinna throughout the generations.




  Cards, Merch & Art Longdog Race Signed original .     Unsigned open-edition