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An Interpretive Trail Guide |
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Hoyt Sanctuary | |
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Purity Lake owes its existence to a large family of beavers that created a dam here and flooded this valley, long before the first Europeans arrived in New Hampshire. By the turn of the 19th century, early settlers had replaced the beaver dam on this spot with a manmade structure, and constructed this water-powered mill from hand-hewn timbers. The earliest records show that Nicholas Blaisdell bought the mill in 1802 along with 6 acres of land, for $600. The Blaisdells built the house across the road, then only a pack horse trail, from lumber milled here.
The mill soon became the center of activity in the village of East Madison. Logs were hauled to the mill in wintertime by ox and horse teams, and dumped on the ice and the lakeshore. The mill also had threshing machines for wheat, a grist mill for corn, and a cider mill. At threshing time in 1804, as many as ten to fifteen teams could be seen at six a.m., waiting in line for the mill to open; men came from as far away as Meredith for custom work. The millstones imported from England are still here, and one can be seen lying on the ground to your left.
Water to power the mill was conserved from the early spring runoff, and the mill ran until the water supply was insufficient to turn the two water wheels. At this time each year, the mill would be closed down until enough water accumulated again behind the dam.
Nicholas Blaisdell eventually sold the mill and surrounding land to his brother-in-law, Edward E. Hoyt, Sr., when he and his family moved away. Edward Hoyt, Jr. managed the mill for his father during the late 1800's and early 1900's, overseeing the hauling of logs by oxen and horses, and taking care of the cider, lumber and grist mills.
Though the Hoyts still made cider here for several years thereafter, the lumber mill closed down about 1935, when it was finally outcompeted by the new portable steam saw mills.
Purity Springs Valley itself was born only about 20,000 years ago, carved by the Wisconsonian glacier during the last Ice Age. By end of the Ice Age in New England, about 10,000 years ago, the glacier had retreated to Canada, leaving profound changes in its wake. The two mile-high sheet of ice had sculpted whole mountain chains, smoothed hills, scooped out new lakes and ponds, filled in valleys, created new river systems, and moved great quantities of soil and rocks to create strange new land formations.
As the glacier slowly retreated from this valley, it left large blocks of ice behind, which were then buried in the river sediments washing out from the base of the glacier. These ice blocks melted and left rounded depressions, which became kettlehole lakes. Kettleholes can be very deep, often 20 to 50 feet, hence the name of this tiny kettle, "No Bottom Pond."
No Bottom Pond, like most kettleholes, has slowly filled in over the years and become a Bog: a stagnant, acidic pool, covered with a spongy mat of vegetation creeping slowly out towards the center. This floating mat is covered with an unusual assortment of plants, which are well adapted to survive the highly acidic and almost nutrient-free conditions.
Sphagnum moss is the major plant in a bog, which forms most of the bog mat. This moss is highly absorbent; native americans dried it and used it for diapers! On top of the mat grow refugees from the Arctic: heaths such as bog laurel, labrador tea, and cotton grass, which came south with the glacier and stayed behind. Carnivorous plants such as the round-leaved sundew and the pitcher plant, get their nutrients from the insects they consume, while water loving trees such as black spruce and red maple sprout wherever the mat is thick enough. Uncommon this far north, the Virginia Chain Fern ] also grows here in profusion.
Preserving bogs is important, not only for the uncommon plants they contain, but as habitat for many birds and animals, from palm warblers and spruce grouse to bog lemmings and moose. Bogs can also tell us much about history; from studying pollen grains preserved deep within a bog's peat layers, scientists have learned much about the composition of ancient forests.
* Please enjoy the view from the trail. Do not try to walk onto the bog: the mat may be thin in places, and bog vegetation is fragile and easily damaged.*
In 1980, an unusual occurrance took place here. A small tornado churned through this valley, crossed the lake, and levelled many of the majestic pines growing atop this ridge. Some trees were snapped off in the middle by the powerful winds and many were completely uprooted, taking the topsoil with them. The fallen trees were later salvaged in a logging operation, but you can still see the uprooted stumps and broken trunks scattered about.
This great disturbance in the forest set back the process ecologists call Succession, whereby a field slowly becomes a forest, or a lake becomes a swamp. Now that all the trees are gone and the soil is scarred, the forest has to start again "from scratch."
The low shrubby plants you see here are the first plants, or &$34;pioneers", to invade a disturbed area. These particular plants are specially adapted to thrive in bright sunlight and dry, sandy soil, such as exists atop this ridge. You'll find Sweetfern, which is not really a fern at all. Its crushed leaves have a spicy, aromatic scent. Bracken Fern, a true fern, also grows here, as do Wild Strawberries and the gnarled Scrub Oak.
Soon this plant community too will change, as new species of trees and shrubs grow and shade out the old ones. Through succession, Scrub Oak and Bracken Fern will eventually be replaced by Red Oak and White Pine once again.
Beavers can change a forest drastically, not just through the creation of ponds, such as the abandoned one below, but also through the effect of cutting the surrounding forest trees. Cutting down all the nearby trees of the preferred species, aspen, alder, willow, birch and maple, may take several years. As they cut these hardwood species, the beavers make room for less tasty trees, such as white pine, to come in. In this way, the beavers change the forest's compostion.
Eventually, the beavers eat themselves out of house and home. They then turn to their last resort, pine trees and other conifers. At this point, all the beavers usually do is chew the bark off the trees as high as they can reach; this kills the tree by "girdling" it, cutting off its nutrient supply. Having finally exhausted their food supply, the beavers then leave for new territories.
Although the girdled trees die, the forest can actually benefit. More sunlight can reach the forest floor, allowing sun-loving species to grow. Living trees have more room to grow and expand, and the standing dead trees provide good nesting holes for woodpeckers, owls, squirrels, raccoons, and other forest birds and mammals.
Most of the finer sediments scraped from the land, such as clay, silt and fine sand, were swept away in the swift current, but coarser sand and gravel eventually filled the stream's tunnel. When the ice finally melted away several thousand years ago, the tunnel of sediment emerged as a 10-100 foot high ridge, resembling a railroad embankment.
As you travel through these woods, notice how the esker creates a microenvironment on either side of it. On the top and the sunny side of the ridge grow trees that love a warm, dry environment, white and red pine, red oak, and red and sugar maples. On the other side of the ridge, in the darker, cooler ravine, grow hemlocks and striped maple.
Eskers benefit us in several ways. They provide high, dry routes through swamplands and valleys, and were used as pathways by native Americans and early settlers. Now they provide a base for all classes of roads. Eskers teach us about glacial history, may offer spectacular views, and are often high-yield aquifers. Unfortunately, they are also "endangered" because of their use as gravel pits and waste disposal sites. As you near the end of the Esker Trail, look over the edge of the sharp embankment in front of you to see the remains of an old gravel pit cutting into this esker.
Before the days of garbage trucks and gigantic landfills, a family had to find its own way to dispose of trash, usually out in the back woods. Nearly every old New England home has its pile of broken dishes, pots and pans, and an old Ford rusting in a far, forgotten corner of the property.
Finding an old household dump such as this one can tell us much about the early residents of the land. We can tell approximately when the people lived there, what sort of products they used, clothes they wore, or car they drove! What can you tell about the people who left these things behind? Do you think this was the Durgins' dump? What clues have they left?
Please stay on the trail. Broken glass and sharp metal objects may still lie buried beneath the leaf litter. Please do not remove objects from the dump, but leave them for others to ponder.
Ever since beavers created Purity Lake -- before any European ever set foot on the lakeshore-- they have exerted a great influence on this valley. Beavers have apparently always been present on the lake, although they have not always resided year-round. The presence of abundant stands of their favorite trees determine whether the beavers will set up housekeeping and stay the winter.
Several years ago, a family of beavers returned to the lake and decided to dam up a small stream, which flows across Sunset Beach Road and empties into The Heath. They constructed a large dam at this spot, and created the pond to your left. They also constructed the nearby lodge of mud and sticks, and stored up as many branches as they could in an underwater midden, for winter food. The forest of saplings that you just walked through is a result of their harvesting for building materials and food.
This beaver dam was destroyed in the mid-1980's in a heavy spring flood, but you can still see the edges of it here, and pieces of it which were scattered into The Heath. The beaver family probably left sometime before the dam broke.
Perhaps surprisingly, the pond behind the dam did not completely drain, but remains a lively marsh. Here you may watch a kingfisher diving for minnows, or an eastern kingbird swooping at insects. Flickers make their holes in the trunks of standing dead trees, and swamp sparrows trill from the branches. The surrounding forest of alder, birch and maple saplings is growing quickly, and will soon entice another beaver family back to the pond.
Below you stretches "The Heath", a small sheltered cove covered with floating mats of vegetation. This may have been a bog like No Bottom Pond before the valley was flooded, or perhaps the water is just stagnant, cool and acidic enough to support many of the same bog species. Pitcher plants, sundews, cranberries and heaths sprout from the spongy sphagnum mats. However, because the lake contributes nutrients to the bay, several plants grow here that could not survive in the bog.
Delicate orchids, the rose pogonia and grass pink, blossom on the floating mats in June, and three species of bladderwort catch insects in their underwater "bladders". These and many other fascinating plants are easily seen from a canoe.
In the summertime, you may be treated to the sight of a graceful great blue heron stalking a frog, painted turtles sunning on a log, or a family of ducks sheltering here. A beaver may swim up to investigate the abandoned lodge still standing on the mat. Common yellowthroats and red-winged blackbirds call from the water's edge. In the winter, the heath is a good place to track raccoon, mink, moose, and whitetail deer.
The majestic white pine can grow nearly anywhere, but is most common where there was once an old field. Here, the abundance of pine, and the presence of old field juniper tells us that this land was once open pasture, perhaps for sheep. Because livestock will not eat these prickly plants, because they reproduce prolifically and do well on dry, sandy soil, they had a head start over other trees when this farm was abandoned.
Today these woods are a mixture of white and red pine, red oak, and red maple. Old-field juniper is being replaced by woodland shrubs such as blueberry, maple-leaved viburnum, and striped maple. Trailing arbutus, bunchberry, and pink lady's slipper blossom on the forest floor in springtime; rattlesnake plantain, pipsissewa, shinleaf, and the delicate dewdrop bloom in the summer shade. Mushrooms of many varieties sprout from the leaf litter as if by magic, after a rain.
But what was this forest like before the loggers and the farmers came? Did the native Americans walk through a pine forest like this one? Probably not.
A sun-loving tree, white pine does well in an old pasture, but cannot survive in the shade of a deep forest. Early settlers probably found white pines, valued for their tall, straight trunks, few and far between. Oaks, maples, beech and the American chestnut were probably the most common trees in these dry woods, but pines were often able to come in where the Indians set fire to the forest. Indians of the dry coastal plain often did this to keep down the thick brush, encourage the growth of berries, and hence attract wildlife.
Although the white pine is one of the tallest trees in the forest, and may live to be 400 years old, eventually these pines will once again be replaced with hardwoods. But here and there in a clearing, after a logging job or a big fire, the pines will regain their foothold, and a white pine forest will begin again.
Several cellar holes remain on the Hoyt Sanctuary, from homes and outbuildings that existed here during the 19th century. Two of these holes, lined with large stones, may be seen at this spot, one on each side of the trail. Sunset Beach Road was once "the road to the Joel Durgin place," and these houses presumably belonged to the Durgin family. Look carefully around the old homesteads, and you may find European garden plants and weeds such as moneywort, which was brought over from the old world by settlers.
The Durgins were likely the first and last people to live on this property. Edward Hoyt, Sr. probably bought Joel Durgin's land around the turn of the century, and the Durgins disappeared to seek their fortunes farther south and west. They left behind the ruins of their homestead and farm, and several of their loved ones in a small burying ground.
[Four Durgins buried in graveyard atop hill 1) Anna - wife of Nathaniel Durgin, died 1830. 2) John Durgin, died June 8, 1833, ae 35 yrs, 3 mo's, 16 days. (b. Feb 20, 1798?) 3) Job Durgin, died in 1871, ae. 71. 4) Betsey, wife of Job Durgin, died May 28, 1890, ae. 85 yrs, 1 mo.]