Stories from

Daybreak at Pcionek's woods

Claudia spotted this whitetail along the edge of an Oakfield woodlot...with the rut kicking into high gear the bucks have been on the move.

Reflective pool in an Elba woodland

Vestige of October's foliage

This ringneck pheasant was sauntering along the side of the road and stopped long enough for Claudia to take its picture before hightailing it into dense cover.

A hardwoods and spent milkweed pods separated by a foggy shroud

Clouds reflected on a small stream

Redtail hawk surveying its domain

We came across this historic marker on West Barre Road.

Sunset viewed from Mudrzynski's hill in Oakfield

The classical look of Canada geese descending onto their feeding ground has inspired many a wildlife artist. While this is merely the last stage of their flight, in each of the previous phases their movement is filled with purpose.

Being in close proximity to the grain fields, this autumn we've witnessed a great deal of the geese coming and going, often hearing the faint telltale call of the Canadas before we spot them. Scanning the sky we locate them, sometimes so far off in the distance where they seems to be hardly more than an obscure smudge on the sky.

Wings firmly fixed in place, the initial stage of descent begins...

What appears to be a holding pattern is a steady drop in altitude...

Things appear okay on the ground, wings cupped, a slight turn and continue descent... 

By the looks of things, the coast is clear, no danger in sight.

Seconds from touchdown and a veritable feast in the cornfield.

Last Thursday morning I had my pickup backed up to the launch at Churchville Park, and I was jawing with another canoeist, who, like myself, was waiting for his paddling partner. My partner showed up within minutes and before I was able to slide my canoe out of the pickup, another vehicle pulled up, stopped in front of the launch and a voice from inside said something to the effect of, "You gonna unload that thing and move so the rest of us can launch?" When I looked up I saw old friend and outdoor enthusiast J.D. Barrett grinning like the Cheshire Cat. This promised to be a good day.

Black Creek has long been a favorite among the canoe and kayak crowd and a paddle along Black Creek can be aesthetically pleasing to the eye most anytime of year. Come autumn however, the waterway provides a trip that is downright picturesque and it is especially alluring during the month of October.

Beech and oak trees dominated the creek bank along this stretch.

There were maples found here and there along the bank.

Normally on his day off former Batavian Mike Keil can be found on the tennis court or golf course. But this day he opted for a canoe trip along the Black, our second such venture of the year. 

The fella on the right is avid canoeist and flyfisherman J.D. Barrett and on the left is his paddlin' partner, Hyde Hitchcock. This pair has logged an incredible amount of time on the waterways over the years. It was J.D. who first introduced me to canoeing the Black many years ago.

Wherever we looked the shoreline was mirrored perfectly in the water.

On the creek bank in the "middle of nowhere" a swing seat for two hangs from a colorful beech tree.

More after the jump (click the headline):

Mike's wry grin suggests he doesn't believe me when I tell him a pair of dragonflies landed on his shoulder. They were there a second ago...honest!

Streak-winged red skimmers

Hyde and J.D. heading upstream in their solo canoes........

and stopping for a snack beneath some hemlocks.

While a good deal of foliage had already fallen, there was still plenty of color along the creek.

Like the rest of us, this painted turtle is enjoying the balmy autumn day.

After passing below Route 19, we entered the Bergen Swamp. Here the creek began to narrow and the the foliage was all but depleted.    

We saw several herons along our route.

For the duration of our trip I was fascinated with the mirror images on the placid surface.

Quite a mix of trees along the bank including evergreens and hardwoods.

All things considered -- scenery, weather and companions -- it was an exceptional outing.

Whether they be red, orange, yellow or a combination thereof, maples are among my autumn favorites.

Here's a colorful and placid stretch of Celery Brook.

This doe as she was about to cross Old Creek Road when she stopped long enough to get her picture taken.

Twin oaks stand guard at the edge of Pcionek's woods.

Canada geese passing overhead

A pair of aged maples at the edge of a cattail swamp

Roadside red clover bud

Each year about this time, like clockwork, wood ducks descend on a stretch of the Tonawanda Creek where it flows behind our home. The wood ducks feel right at home there, dabbling on the acorns which fall from the red oaks lining the bank.

No doubt they also are drawn to the calm, flat water and abundant shoreline vegetation. Overhanging bushes and vines provide ample cover.

Along the narrow corridor of Tonawanda Creek it's not difficult to see wood ducks during the month of October. In fact, I expect to see them whenver I walk to the creek bank, or at the very least, hear that unique call they make -- some might call it a squeal while others say it's more like a high-pitched whistle/whine.  

Taking pics of wood ducks on Tonawanda Creek is one thing, the wide open spaces of the Oak Orchard Wildlife Management Area is another story. The sloughs and backwaters here are ideal for ducks, but the place is so vast, it's easy to be in one place while the ducks are in another.

Tailor-made as this place is, on this morning I had seen only a handful of ducks, all moving too fast and too far away for photos. When I saw the stick nest pictured above, I decided to zoom in. 

That's when I saw the ducks in the background, rapidly dropping in altitude and heading for the flooded timber.

Is it mere coincidence that one of the most colorful species of waterfowl is on hand during that part of the autumn season when foliage is tinted to the max?

While wood ducks are among the first waterfowl to arrive, they will also be among the first to depart for warmer climes. As I watched the wood ducks swim back and forth among floating leaves on the creek behind our home, I knew that all too soon they will be winging it southward for an extended period of time. 

Whatever the species, be it wood duck or mallard, canvasback or Canada goose, there is graceful symmetry in the flight of waterfowl, and something sublime in a creature that beats its wings an incredible number of times each minute at altitudes and for distances that boggle the mind.

If you've spent any time outdoors in the past couple of weeks, chances are you've noticed the telltale coloration of Virginia creeper off in the distance, whether in the hedgerows or the edges of woodlots. 

Often mistaken for poison ivy, Virginia creeper, aka parthenocissus quinquefolia, is a prolific climber.

Also called "five finger" because of the number of leaves per cluster, Virginia creeper's vivid shades of red and burgundy start to appear well ahead of the peak autumn foliage colors.

Maybe it's me, but this year the colorful vine seems to be permeating the countryside, its colors more resplendent than in years past.   

Whether hiking or driving, it has been hard to take my eyes off of it -- and numerous times over the past couple of weeks I've heard Claudia say, "Watch the road!"

Out in the open, this pair of whitetail does little more than give me a passing glance before going about their business of feeding.

This female, hardly concerned with my presence, is about to continue her browsing.

She pays no attention whatsoever to a sizable flock of boisterous blackbirds. Early autumn can be a great time to spot deer feeding in open fields, but a change in terrain can result in limited sighting opportunites.

Whitetails are skulkers, and in woodlands and dense brush one needs to keep an eye peeled for a flicker of movement, like maybe a twitching tail. I waited a considerable time for this deer to raise its head, curious to see if it was sporting antlers.

Once positioned between a pair of hawthorn trunks I was able to make out an antlerless head. Its a doe, craning her neck for a backward glimpse.

It could be they were staging for an autumn migration, but whatever the reason, upwards of three dozen great egrets had gathered in one area of the Tonawanda Wildlife Management Area last Friday.

The egrets took a liking to this narrow strip of water, all but hidden by a large expanse of cattails. At a distance, the egrets are barely discernable, appearing as tiny white dots on the water in the middle of the photo.  

Evidently the location teemed with one or both of the egret's favorite food sources - small fish and frogs.

Judging from the movement of the large wading birds...

it would seem there was an ample supply of food in all directions.

Not far away, east of Route 77, dabbling ducks were having a feast of their own in Mohawk Pool on the Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge. Mallards, pintails, green- and blue-winged teal, and widgeon were on hand for an aquatic feed.

The food supply must have been both tasty and plentiful because the ducks seemed more intent on eating than breathing - no matter where you looked, the ducks' heads were submerged..........that little fella on the right was one of the few exceptions (maybe he was full). 

It was a good morning, the next to last day of summer and capped off with this egret on the fly. 

In a battle of unbeaten Genesee Region teams, the Notre Dame Fighting Irish and the Elba-Byron Bergen Lancers squared off Saturday afternoon.

A good part of the opening quarter was a defensive struggle before Elba quarterback Zac Gillard opened the scoring with a one-yard run. The point after attempt failed and the Lancers held a 6-0 lead.

Andrew Mullen returns the ensuing kickoff and later he put Notre Dame on the board with a short run. The point after was good and Notre Dame led 7-6 at  halftime.

On Elba's first series of the second half, Zac Gillard hit Kyle Morse with a 55-yard scoring strike and a missed conversion left the Lancers with a 12-7 lead.

Zack DuBois is off and running.

Kyle Morse signals touchdown after DuBois' 10-yard scoring run. Another failed point after conversion gave the Lancers an 18-7 lead.

Fullback Jon Levchuk's one-yard run in the fourth quarter extended Elba's lead to 24-7 and with their defense playing soundly, the Lancers seemed to have the game well in hand.

But things were about to take a dramatic turn.

In the later stages of the fourth quarter, the Fighting Irish began to move the ball downfield, capping the drive when Andrew Mullen scored his second tochdown of the day on an 18-yard run. Tim McCulley passed to Jared Thornton for the 2-point conversion and cut Elba's lead to 24-15.

After the kickoff, Elba fumbled the ball away and Notre Dame was back in business. McCulley hooked up with Jared Thornton once again, this time for a touchdown and Notre Dame closed to within 24-21 after a failed conversion.

With about a minute to play, an onside kick was recovered by Notre Dame's Zack Blew at the Elba 45-yard line. But on the first play from scrimmage, Elba's Andy Underhill sacked QB Tim McCulley for a nine-yard loss. Two plays later Brandon Naylor chipped in with another sack and Elba took over on downs and ran out the clock for the win.

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I didn't have to go far to get a photo of this dragonfly, called a twelve-spot skimmer. Apparently it was temporarily grounded by an early morning chill. It flew off when I attempted to scoop it up in my hand.

A white-tailed dragonfly clings to a wild grape vine.

A pearl crescent butterfly spreads its wings.

This marshy stream flows through one our preferred outdoor haunts.

This is our chocolate lab, Tate...

Obviously, this is one of his favorite places to cavort!

A raft of waterfowl, many of them black ducks, take a midday break.

A narrow portion of the stream where it passes through heavy brush.

With a nut clenched firmly in its jaws, this gray squirrel was scurrying on a fallen log when it stopped to relieve an itch.

This small cluster of cedar waxwings was part of a larger flock that recently descended on a nearby meadow. Whether they came to feast on wild grapes or poke berries, I couldn't say, but they were present in large numbers. And that is how they travel, arriving by the hundreds to feast on ripe berries. 

A closeup of the above photo reveals one of the birds preening below its left wing.

A lone waxwing on one of the uppermost branches of the tree.

And as suddenly as the cedar waxwings appear, they will leave the same way, quickly vacating an area once they've exhausted the food supply. The speciman above momentarily enjoys the sun...

before deciding to preen its feathers.

One late summer/early autumn many years ago, I was paddling on the Tonawanda when I witnessed firsthand the massive flock movements of foraging cedar waxwings. I was a quarter mile upstream from our home in an area where ancient black willows line both banks, their uppermost branches forming a canopy over the creek. Wild grape vines had scaled many of those trees, making their way into the branches high above the water.

On that quiet and sunny day I remember hearing a rustling noise, much like a snake makes as it crawls through dry leaves. Anyway, looking around and not seeing anything, I finally looked up. There must have been dozens, if not hundreds of cedar waxwings gorging themselves on the wild grapes. I found it to be quite an outdoor moment and obviously I've not forgotten it...I doubt I ever will.

The green heron pictured above appears to be doing its hunting in a grassy field but that is probably not the case. Never one to venture far from their favored haunts, the small stream barely visible behind the heron is probably where it was hunting before being disturbed.

After taking flight, the heron flew only a short distance before coming to rest on some dead branches.

Dead tree limbs overlooking marshy confines and surrounded by thick brush or cattails makes for a preferred hunting location for the green heron.

The heron has something in its sights and begin to crane its neck forward.

Its neck fully extended, the green heron is on full alert.

Great blue herons, along with great white herons, are the largest of the heron family. Mostly seen wading the edges of small streams and marshes, this great blue heron opted for an aerial view from a dead tree.  

This is the marsh bordering the hedgerow of dead timber where the heron is situated. Whether he's simply resting or watching for prey, it has a great view of its wetland haunt.

Ever vigilant, the great blue looks to the west...

before looking to the east...

with nothing in sight, it takes a moment for a bit of preening.

This small stream meanders though a woodland not far from our home. Here it reflects a bit of sky and the surrounding trees. In the background the stream surface is coated with duck weed.

Further upstream the surface of  the same creek is entirely covered with duck weed...

...much to the enjoyment of this female wood duck.

She is obviously at home in this alge-covered stretch of the stream.

This photo belies the leopard frog's size -- it was actually smaller than my thumb. They were quite plentiful and jumping all over the place. This little guy was willing to sit still for a few moments, allowing me to take his picture.

Another leopard frog, though considerably bigger, provides a demonstration in the art of camouflage.

This heron is in the process of swallowing a meal -- perhaps a fish, or maybe a relative of the leopard frogs.

A pair of Painted turtles soak up the sun.

All four of this turtle's limbs are flailing the air in a desperate bid to escape. As I approached to take its photo it attempted make a hasty exit but failed to get a toehold in order to propel itself into the water. It took some doing but It finally succeeded. Hopefully, next time it will select a larger sunning surface.

This group has the idea -- a large surface which provides easy escape in the event trouble should arise.

Cardinal flowers are found in shady areas along streams and/or small creeks.

Though it grows in areas of low light, the cardinal flower is easy to spot.

Purple loosestrife has gained more than a foothold in our wetlands in recent decades.

While it's quite colorful, loosestrife is an invasive plant that can take over a wetland, choking out aquatic vegetation that is beneficial to wildlife

Bull thistle accented by a ray of early morning light

The bloom of this thistle is about maxed out -- note the snail on the thistle to the right.

A member of the sunflower family, Jerusalem artichoke has an edible root that, according to the Audubon field guide, is "highly nutritious and unlike potatoes, contains no starch but rather carbohydrate in a form that is metabolized into natural sugar." 

Queen Anne's lace amid yellow hawkweed, both are found in abundance along country roads and meadows.

Chicory is another common roadside wildflower.

This is common tansy.

The photo above depicts a Canadian sunset over a placid and serene Lac Remigny. The photo was provided courtesy of Batavians Larry Smith and Paul Barrett, two longtime outdoorsmen who head to the North Country in pursuit of black bears.

It turns out the pair had themselves an adventure, one they chose to share with The Batavian. And as you will see from their photos, in addition to their pursuit of black bears, the pair took time to enjoy the scenery, the wildlife and the hospitality.

Their trip began in early June with an eight-hour drive to Remigny, Quebec, Canada, where Barrett and Smith renewed acquaintances with Mark Kepka and his wife, Gosia, the owner/operators of Camps Ronoda. 

Barrett and Smith arrived at Remigny on Saturday, June 9th and the next evening ventured to their assigned hunting locations for the first time. Hunting 16 miles from camp and posted three miles from one another, both Batavians saw bears that first evening on stand. Photo above shows the roads and terrain they traveled through to get to their stands.

"I saw my first bear in the wild that Sunday evening," said Larry Smith, who was hunting from a ladder stand.

Heeding the camp owner's words, he passed on the opportunity to shoot even though the bear was within 20 yards of him.

"The bigger bears will tend to show up later in the week. Because you are a 'strange' odor in the area, the big bears will keep their distance until they get accustomed to your scent," Smith said, echoing his host's advice. "During that time you tend to see smaller bears. Mark told us to be patient, wait until midweek if we want to see bigger bears."

Instead of shooting, Larry put his camcorder to use and got some footage of his first bruin encounter.

That same evening Paul Barrett also had an encounter with a black bear, though a bit more confrontational than this marauding raccoon he photographed as it raided the bait bucket.

Unlike his companion, Barrett was not in a ladder stand, but instead situated on a rock outcropping overlooking the bait pail.

"A big bear came in from right to left, 12 feet below and 20 yards away," he said. "It sniffed the air then ran off into thick brush. Ten minutes later I heard his teeth snapping -- definitely not a good sign. The bear was by that time behind me, over my left shoulder about 20 feet away. Now above and behind me, the bear lumbered back and forth, trying to get me to move," he continued.

With his Remington model 700 338/06 custom-built rifle in his lap, Paul opted for his camcorder and, as his companion had done, got several minutes of footage, albeit in dense brush. The bear eventually walked off.

On Tuesday, June 12th, Larry Smith was once again seated in his ladder stand when, at about 8 p.m. he noticed movement on the ground below and to his left.

"She came in on the same path I had used to walk in four hours earlier," he said. "She stopped briefly at the base of my ladder and looked up at me before moving on. She went straight to the bait pail, situated 6 feet off the ground and full of ground up cookies and meat scraps." It was noted that the bait pails are placed at the 6-foot height to give the hunter an indication of the bear's size. 

"She reared up on her hind legs facing away from me and began removing meat scraps from the pail, at which time I decided to harvest this bear." A single 180-grain bullet from Smith's Remington 700 30-06 did the trick. "She fell backward, then ran about 25 yards before she collapsed," he concluded.   

By then it was getting dark in the dense woods and, having previously heard reports of wolves -- or even larger bears -- that will come in to a kill, Larry thought it a good idea to get the outfitter on his way.

"He needed to travel 16 miles and offload his ATV so let's get him started in this direction," he thought to himself. When Mark Kepka arrived the first words out of his mouth -- before spotting the bear -- were, "Is it dead?" His concern was tracking a wounded bear in the the bush, nighttime or otherwise. I was also informed Kepka carries no gun in such a situation, only a flashlight and a knife. The task of finishing off a wounded bear is left to the hunter.

Paul Barrett was also at the scene by the time Mark Kepka had arrived. And he had some news of his own.

"I was sitting on the same rock outcropping when I heard Larry's shot. I immediately texted him and learned of his kill. I then texted my wife, Kathleen, back home in Batavia to her inform her of Larry's kill." 

No sooner had Paul done that when he had a visitor.

"Approximately seven minutes after texting my wife, a bear approached from behind and over my right shoulder. It then wandered off to my right for a couple of minutes before circling around me and heading directly for the bait. It stood on its hind legs and I put one shot right between the shoulder blades."     

Meanwhile, Larry is back at his stand, not having heard the report of his companion's gun and waiting for Mark to arrive. At this time he, too, decided to text his wife, Julie, and daughter, Melissa. Like Kathleen, their reaction was one of excitement, delight and enthusiasm.

Paul's big boar weighed in at 400 pounds, while Larry's tipped the scale at 200. The bears were 5 and 9 years of age and by their calculations, they were taken 11 minutes apart.

"The morning after the bear harvest we had a photo shoot before Mark and his dad, Henry, skinned and quartered both bears before freezing them. We each brought back four quarters of bear meat plus the pelts," said Paul, who plans on having a rug made from his bear hide while Larry opted for a full standup mount. 

Both Paul Barrett and Larry Smith pointed out that when they began the search process for an outfitter, the Kepkas came highly recommended and they actually met with them three times prior to their hunt.

"I would classify the Kepka's operation at Camps Ronoda as remarkable -- accommodations, meals, hospitality, amenities, all of it," Larry Smith said.

His sentiments were echoed by Paul Barrett who also lauded the culinary skills of Gosia Kepka.

"Truly remarkable. She cooked two meals a day, breakfast and dinner," he said. When I asked about lunch, he quickly added, "you don't need lunch -- the portions at breakfast and dinner are huge."

Camps Ronoda has been outfitting sportsmen since 1948. In addition to bear hunters, they serve fishermen, duck and goose hunters and offer grouse, woodcock and small game hunts. 

They can be contacted at:

1337 Rue de L' Eglise

Remigny, Quebec, JOZ 3110

1-877-761-2591

It was last Friday morning and despite the early hour the air temperature was climbing rapidly and the humidity was killer; couple that with the fact I was running on not much more than an hour of sleep and it seemed like I was going to be in for a long day. Doug Harloff, on the other hand, was his usual self -- chipper, upbeat, and eager to get down to the business at hand. I didn't know it then, but my disposition would soon match his and my lack of sleep quickly forgotten.

Our original plan called for a trip to Lake Erie to see about putting a dent in the walleye population, but at the last minute Doug suggested we play the waters of Lake Ontario, "steelhead fishin's been good" he said. As tired as I was, I figured it a good idea to be as close to home as possible. I readily agreed and moments later we were on our way to Point Breeze. 

Doug was still setting out lines when the first fish struck, a feisty steelhead rainbow that quickly got the adrenaline flowing. That said, any sleep deprivation dissipated immediately. The sight of a steelhead leaping clear of the water then tailwalking across the surface or the powerful run of a king salmon has a way of rejuvenating even the most bleary-eyed angler. And on this day we would be accommodated by both species. The king salmon pictured above made several line-sizzling runs, taking out nearly 370 feet of line!

Initially, Doug rigged up two downriggers, a planer board and a flat-line rig with lead core line, the latter being run some 300 feet behind the boat. Each rig produced at least one fish, most of which came from the 60 foot level in waters ranging from 150 - 250 feet deep. Northern King spoons were the hot bait, notably Dream Weaver 42nd's and black NK spoons with silver tape.

The further out on the lake we went the more we felt the breeze and the air temperature cooled somewhat. For the time being we had left some of the heat and humidity behind. From our position about two miles offshore it was difficult to make out the shoreline shrouded in haze. By the time we were ready to call it a day we had four steelheads and two kings in the hold.   

Because Doug lets nothing go to waste whether it be fish, waterfowl, upland game or venison, his recipes for fish and game are vast and varied. And because I would be bringing home an ample supply of fillets, I asked his opinion. Everything he suggested sounded great, the only trouble being, I could only try one recipe at a time. The following evening my wife and I dined on blackened Cajun salmon fillets cooked on the grill. The meal was delicious and the hum of the air conditioner made it all the more enjoyable.

Thanks Doug - it was a great day!

.........................................................."Marco!"................................

.........................................................."Polo!".................................

"Psssst........hey, Murray - you better watch yourself - I think he stashed a ladder in the bushes."

"Not to mention he also opens his eyes....see, what'd I tell ya?"

"I see 'em. Drat, this isn't gonna be as easy as I thought."

In this version of the "fox vs. squirrels," at the end of the day the fox's crockpot remained empty!

There was no mistaking the telltale markings. Even at a distance the wing span, white heads and white tail patches indicated we were looking at a pair of bald eagles in flight. While the pair of eagles soared above the Genesee River, Le Royan Jerry Fitzsimmons and his grandson, Ryan Fitzsimmons, of Caledonia, were gliding past the right bank in a tandem kayak. Riding the current, Jerry maneuvered quietly, hoping to get close enough for photos. Finally, one of the eagles alit on the remains of a weathered log, enabling Jerry to get a few pics before it once again took flight.   

It was day three and the final leg of a canoe trip that included, in addition to Jerry and Ryan, Andrew and Kathleen Hulme, of Pavilion, Christine Hayes, a Pavilion currently residing in Brockport, Batavians Jeremy and Amy Fitzsimmons, and myself.

Our river run began late on a Friday in the Allegeny town of Caneadea. A short paddle on the Rushford Lake overflow took us onto the Genesee River. That first day on the river found us still paddling as the sun drew near the horizon and Jeremy opted for a suitable gravel bar to set up our tents. Our campsite wasn't really lined with gravel, but rocks of all sizes that had been washed and shaped by the river for ages.

Camping on a gravel bar has its perks -- with no woodland canopy to contend with, we had an unobstructed view of the night sky. And what a view it was. There, nestled between the hills of the Southern Tier and shielded from even the faintest light from nearby towns, the river bottom was dark. The temperature dropped into the 40s that night with the air crisp and cool. When I woke during the wee hours the sight overhead was nothing short of spectacular. I never bothered with the camera -- combined with the surrounding darkness and the still of the night, a photo would never have done justice to the nocturnal panorama overhead.

I was still half asleep when a turkey began to gobble somewhere in woods along the river. Judging from the frequency of his calls, the tom was intent on finding a hen. Once the sun climbed above the horizon grosbeaks began to sing while Jerry prepared a hearty breakfast of sausage, potatoes, eggs and hot coffee. After scalding my lips on the coffee, it was time to break camp and load the canoes for day two on the river.

Because each craft was laden with gear, each day prior to setting out Jerry loaded the canoes, maintaing a proper balance. Because the Genesee is, as Jeremy described it, a "pool and drop" river, Jerry's expertise proved invaluable, particularly encountering the fast water found wherever the river dropped in elevation and did so at a sharp bend.

Jerry first paddled a canoe at the age of 9. His favorite haunt in those early years was an area of Oatka Creek known as Bailey's Mills near the Le Roy-Pavilion border. He and son Jeremy have been running rivers for decades, both as licensed NYS guides and recreational paddlers. Experienced and accommodating on the river, they not only served as our guides but also our outfitters and camp cooks as well. All they asked of us was to enjoy the trip...no problem! 

At noon of our second day we stopped for lunch on a gravel bar where the river flows past Fillmore. Another two hours of paddling took us to Rossburg where the Wiscoy Creek spills into the Genesee. That's where we made camp for our second night and it's also where we spotted one of two beavers we saw along the route. This one was busy making repairs to its home.

We saw several mergansers on the river and early that evening, not far from camp, Jerry spotted a fox kit and shortly thereafter located a den. When Jerry returned with his camera the young fox was nowhere to be seen, but he did find some turkey remains, including an entire wing, quills still intact. Evidently the mother fox had been teaching her kits the finer points in stalking North America's wiliest game bird.  

I'm not sure what Jerry's pointing at here. Could have been a heron, hawk, deer or beaver.

Cliff swallows were active wherever the river bank afforded them a place to live. The bluff pictured above contained a sizeable colony, literally dozens of small caves where the species make their homes.

While the entire trip proved to be a relatively comfortable paddle, our last morning on the river provided a few more stretches of white water along with a few obstacles. At times we had to contend with submerged boulders that came into view at the last second or bony tree limbs sticking out of the water. When the potential trouble spots were located in a bend and the current suddenly picks up speed, it required some hard paddling and oftentimes a quick change of direction, kind of like negotiating a "river chicane." Such maneuvers were exhilarating and challenging and a great way to end the trip. Our trip came to an end at Portageville after covering an estimated 30 miles on the river.

A hearty thanks to my fellow paddlers for a fun experience and for sharing photos!

Before gusting winds shook loose the last of the apple blossoms, we were able to get a few good pics of the orioles that always show up to dine on the insects that call the small white flowers home.

Whether or not they've already paired up, both the male and female partake of the feast.

This male really has his head into his work!

The apple blossoms and the insects inside provide a great opportunity to get oriole pics. Once the blossoms fall to the ground, the orioles don't return to the apple tree. But they do nest in the woodlots to either side of our home and despite the foliage there is no mistaking the orioles delightful sound.