Beyond the Beauty Strip

Talking Trash

Have you ever revisited a favorite spot in the backcountry or along a quiet back road, only to find it transformed into a passable imitation of a poorly managed landfill? That’s been happening more and more often to Tamia these days. Now she’s wondering if it’s just a local phenomenon, or if the problem’s bigger.
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by Tamia Nelson | May 22, 2012

Let’s talk trash. It’s a big subject, and if what I see on trails and canoe launches is any indication — to say nothing of what I find scattered along the roads I travel — it’s getting bigger by the day.

What’s the explanation? Well, one of the leading citizens in Garrison Keillor’s fictional Lake Wobegon memorably described the early settlers in the neighboring hamlet of Millet as having come to the New World “to get drunk and throw away their garbage,” implying that their descendants were keen to continue this proud tradition. Maybe this is all the explanation that’s needed. Or maybe not.

In any case, I guess I live in Millet.

That isn’t the impression you’d get by reading the press releases from the local Chambers of Commerce. The Chambers are in the business … Read more »

In the Midst of Death…

The Lively World of Dead Trees

When a dead tree topples into a river or leans precariously over a campsite, it can be bad news for careless paddlers. But that’s only part of the story. A few years ago, as Tamia watched fledgling tree swallows take their first flight from a nest hole high in a tottering birch, she was prompted to reflect on the “The Lively World of Dead Trees.” And she’s still at it.
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by Tamia Nelson | June 26, 2007

The first time I rounded a bend in a swift river only to find a sweeper dead ahead, I was plenty scared, and with good reason: the current was hustling me right into the lethal embrace of a downed sycamore. Of course, this was one invitation I was determined to reject. And I lost no time in doing so. A quick back ferry to the inside of the bend did the trick. Still, it was a narrow escape. The little mountain stream I was floating was so skinny that my canoe’s stern grated over the gravel in the shallows while the bow rasped against the tips of the sycamore’s quivering branches. I … Read more »

A Tangled Web

Monofilament, Deadly Deceiver

A killer is silently stalking its victims in and around our waterways. It’s infinitely patient, and it strikes without warning. What is this terrifying menace? Monofilament, that’s what. And you’ll find it lurking just about anyplace where a paddler can dip a blade. In this week’s “In the Same Boat,” Tamia confronts the killer and lives to tell the tale.
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by Tamia Nelson | March 27, 2007

Oh, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive!
— Sir Walter Scott

I grew up in the shadow of Vermont’s Green Mountains, within a few miles of one of the country’s premier trout streams. Whenever I got the chance, I’d cycle to a bridge that crossed the ‘Kill just above a favorite pool and stop my bike in mid span. Then I’d lean out over the water, hoping to catch sight of an angler languidly casting tiny artificial flies, a supple line coiling and uncoiling behind him. The rituals of fly-fishing captivated me, and it wasn’t long before I started badgering my grandfather to reveal the fraternity’s secrets. He resisted initially — it was a fraternity, after all — but I wore him down, and … Read more »