Breakfast at the Pond Cafe -- Sushi or Frog Legs?

A barred owl awaiting his breakfast. Click to embiggen.

During the past year a barred owl has taken up residence near our cabin and has discovered that the goldfish and frogs in my pond make perfect snacks.

My first close encounter with this owl came last November. I was walking up from the beach and I passed next to a large oak tree with a hollow core. Perched within the hollow, this owl was almost nose to nose with me. We both stared in wonder for several long seconds. Then I started fumbling for my phone, hoping to snap a close-up photo. By the time I was armed and ready, the owl had flapped up onto a nearby branch. The photo I took was a little more distant, but still recognizably owlish.

My first snapshot of the barred owl

Then in early spring Sue saw it swoop down over the pond and snatch a frog from the water which it gleefully devoured right before her eyes.

The dead frog is just visible on the ground beneath the owl's beak

Finally, this week the barred owl remained perched on a persimmon branch for a good, long time while waiting for breakfast to be served. I was able to set up my 4" telescope and take the picture with which I opened this blog. But you can't watch an owl from a distance of fifteen feet without also having the owl watch you.

Who?

The owl's patience was eventually rewarded with another breakfast of frog legs.

Dory Excursion

Fast sailing in the dory -- but Scott was replaced by backpacks for camping!

Yesterday afternoon I returned from my first extended cruise in the Northeaster Dory. I planned on staying out for three days and I packed generously, given the huge hauling capacity of the dory. I had two medium-sized backpacks, several bottles of water, a comfy folding chair, and a six-pack of beer. The dory swallowed all of that and begged for more, but I kept her on a fairly modest diet.

I set sail from Hand Cove at 10:30 on Thursday morning. The forecast was for moderate winds (10 mph) from the north-north-west. The forecast was wrong. Although the average speed of the wind was 9.4 mph over the 24-hour period, winds tend to ramp up in the middle part of the day, and while I was on the water, steady winds were in the 20 mph range with the peak gusts nearing 30. In truth it was frightening, especially since I was having to beat upwind for the whole day. For the first time, the dory threw occasional sheets of spray at me over the bow and briefly buried the lee rail in the water. I was continually "pinching" into the wind to keep control, and during the fiercest gusts I had to luff the sail. At those times the dory shook like a wet dog. The real trick was to avoid being forced down on a lee shore and then being unable to come about without going into irons. Somehow I managed it safely. During about five hours of sailing, I crawled more than 12 miles up the lake. But with all the beating back and forth, the actual distance covered by the boat had to be at least 25 miles.

The general route of my excursion

I was a weary man when I began to set up camp in second protected cove just south of the bridge. 

Evening shadows at first day's campsite

One attraction of camping on Thursday night is that I knew I'd have a great location for watching the Eta Aquarid meteor shower in the predawn sky. I certainly got to bed early enough , , , and the skies started out clear enough . . . but as the hours crept along, it got colder and colder. The thought of lounging under the night sky at 45 degrees began to lack appeal -- especially since the cold air was causing fog to settle over the water. I stayed in my mummy bag, cocooned in the Hennessey Hammock until the sun began rising. 

Too cold to cook breakfast, I gobbled some gorp and slurped some Gatorade. Then I broke camp, packed up the dory, and by 7 am was off on the second day's adventure. First I rowed up to the bridge and explored the Henderson boat dock with its collection of enormous and expensive houseboats. (The most gargantuan of these was appropriately named "Options.") A slight breeze stirred the lake and I quickly put up the sail, but it was just a lie -- and I  soon went back to rowing.

For fun I went across to take a close look at Robinson Point Bluff from the water.

Looking up at the Robinson Point Overlook

While I have hiked the Robinson Point trail many times, one thing I didn't know is that there is a natural shelter well to the right of the overlook that should be easily accessible from the trail. You can see it in the photo below, just where the Juniper tree has dangled over the edge of the bluff.

And well to the left of the overlook there is a series of fairly large cave openings. These would be accessible from the top for a properly roped-in adventurer.

Bluff with cave openings

Closer view of cave openings

On my hikes at Robinson Point I have often enjoyed the view of the big bluff line across the bay. By water I was able to explore this bluff more closely and was delighted by two fanciful limestone rock formations:

See if you can find the giant stone toad!

And now we have the Stone Giant's boot

Having enjoyed a bit of tourism, I settled in for steady rowing. By lunch I was half-way down the lake at the same spot where I had stopped for a rest and a swim the day before.

Lunch island

More steady rowing got me home by about 2:30. The lower part of the lake has huge, nicely-spaced homes along the top of Tracy Bluff.

Tracy Bluff homes

As Tracy Bluff slopes toward its point, there is an interesting 1/4 mile of limestone / dolostone that nature has cracked vertically and horizontally into perfect stones for building a castle wall.

Natural Stone Blocks

More Natural Stone Blocks

The two-day cruise was enough of an introduction to cruise camping. I found, to my surprise, that beating 25 miles upwind in daunting conditions was more physically exhausting than rowing 14 miles on a glassy lake. But the dory proved itself a worthy vessel and an agreeable companion.