Don’t be misled – we aren’t yet in our second childhoods, seeking Merit Badges! Nor are we losing our hair. This is the real thing: searching for actual bald eagles. This little adventure began when we heard about an annual event in which volunteers went out to search for, and count, bald eagles. We were too late for the nationwide count, but learned that New Hampshire was the only state to hold its own late-season count about a month later. So, we phoned New Hampshire Audubon , which jointly sponsors this event with the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department, and spoke with biologist Chris Martin. We asked if there might be a site we could monitor which would involve some walking, so that we could get a little exercise and enjoy an outdoors experience. He responded that there was an eagles’ nest in Barnet, Vermont (New Hampshire owns the Connecticut River to the Vermont shore, so they count eagle sightings along the Vermont side close to the river), which might involve some walking, and sent us a map.
With map in hand, and armed with trekking poles (a good thing, as it turned out!) and binoculars, we arrived in Barnet on the appointed day. The map directed us to a farm road leading into a corn field along the river, with instructions to drive to the end of that road and then walk, all the while watching for eagles and checking to locate the nest. Unfortunately, the map lacked a scale, so we really couldn’t tell how far we had come on the farm road, which led to later confusion. Lesson one; always try to find out what the map scale is before you go out!
We found ourselves looking upriver at a field a hundred yards or so wide and stretching far into the distance, where we could dimly see what might be farm buildings a mile or two away. The river was to our right, while on the left were the railroad tracks, followed by a high, very steep slope covered with large pine trees; it was in one of those trees, near the top of the slope, that the nest was supposed to be located.
We consulted the map. It indicated that the nest was roughly opposite the upper end of a fairly sizeable island located in a moderate bend in the river. Edie thought that we were there, looking at the island, but Warner said that no, from his reading of the map, we were merely looking at the far bank of the river. And so, trekking poles in hand, we set out to hike up the field in search of the island.
We quickly found that the footing was truly nasty. The temperature was above freezing, so that the light coating of snow was crunchy but slippery. Added to that, there were strips and patches of even more slippery mud, while each corn row was slightly elevated, with sheared-off corn
stalks about eight inches high! In that going, the trekking poles were a lifesaver. They gave us balance and helped to keep us from slipping; without them, walking would have been a near-nightmare. In retrospect, it might have been a good idea to have our YakTrax with us; in the future, we’ll carry them until the frost is out of the ground!
Even with the poles, walking was no picnic, but we progressed fairly steadily, though we stopped from time to time to look for eagles, or at least the rather flat-topped pine that had been described to us as the site of the nest. To add to the fun, it was snowing moderately, with fairly large, wet flakes that greatly hampered visibility.
After some time, we had seen nothing that looked like the bend where the island was located, and the river stretched ahead as straight as a string. Accordingly, we moved over to the riverbank edge of the field, the better to see through the shrubs and willows that lined the bank. Alas, we still had no indication of any island. By this time, our car was a tiny dot in the distance behind us, while ahead the farm buildings seemed no closer. Finally, an estimated three-quarter miles from the car (we really need to get a pedometer!), we decided that we must have come too far, and turned back. As we laboriously hiked our way back, we began to hear high pitched cries that we both thought might well emanate from our quarry. We tried to scan the skies with the binoculars, but the snow made visibility very poor. Still, we were encouraged to think that maybe there might be an eagle somewhere in the vicinity.
When we arrived back at the car, we walked over to the river to see if the island might actually be there. Sure enough, there it was. Why hadn’t we done that in the first place? Because Warner said no, of course the island wasn’t there. He’s supposed to be the experienced outdoorsman, so Edie deferred to his judgment. Now he had to pay the price and listen to her heavy-handed humorous comments about his navigating ability. Sic transit gloria mundi! It will take Warner’s reputation some time to return to its former status – if ever.
Our heads were bloody, but still unbowed. After all, we had heard what we thought was likely an eagle, so we shifted to Plan B. In Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado, the Lord High Executioner sings, “My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time…” and that is precisely what we did. Chris Martin had included, with the map, the information that the eagles’ nest could be observed from a cemetery up on the high ground in Barnet village, so, with a sense of some good exercise accomplished, we drove up to the cemetery, which is of very modest size, unlike the cornfield! The weather started to improve as well; the snow stopped, the skies lightened, and it suddenly seemed like maybe, just maybe, our luck was going to turn.
On walking into the cemetery, Edie quickly used the binoculars to zero in on a rather flat-topped pine just beyond the back edge of the cemetery. Then she triumphantly exclaimed, “There’s an eagle – isn’t it beautiful!” Sure enough, there in the upper portion of the pine was a huge nest – probably at least five feet wide – with a magnificent mature bald eagle, pure white head, great yellow beak, and all, sitting on one edge of it. What a thrill that was! A mature bald eagle is something special to behold, and we felt very fortunate to see it. It’s amazing how just seeing a creature like that can make us feel more connected to nature, and now we can’t wait to go back and see the chicks once they’ve hatched! We watched it for quite a while as it perched there, totally unconcerned about us. All in all, it was a great adventure: plenty of walking, a chance to become more familiar with the trekking poles, and that gorgeous eagle waiting for us at the end of the trip. As we headed home, we talked about what a change we’re already feeling; just a few trips, and we’re walking much farther, in more dificult conditions, and much more confident in our ability to get out and enjoy during the winter! Best of all, with spring coming, we’re going to be ready to try all sorts of things that we haven’t done for years, and all sorts of new ones. Of course, winter isn’t over quite yet…maybe we’ll find more to do before the snow goes away!