A Weekend at Upper Goose Pond

My 3-year-old runs past the cabin at Upper Goose Pond in Western Massachusetts.

We have set a record low for the number of family camping trips this year: two. We had such a rainy spring that we had to keep canceling our trips. We couldn't easily cancel our 6-day foray into the White Mountains,  despite the predicted (and realized) thunderstorms all week; we had a pricy reservation at the Greenleaf Hut. So that was our first trip of the season. Our second was a much more relaxing two-night stay at Upper Goose Pond in East Lee, Massachusetts in late August. The weather was perfect, and there was a cabin that hikers could stay in for free (my husband and eldest son spent one night in the bunkroom before deciding it was more comfortable to join the rest of the family at one of the tent sites; it had nothing to do with the bunks and everything to do with the fact that my son was coughing, falling out of bed, and probably disturbing other guests). There was even a friendly caretaker who made blueberry pancakes for our breakfasts and a couple of canoes that visitors could take out on the pond for no charge. The only downsides were that there were no campfires permitted at tent sites, so we had to do all our cooking at the designated area outside the cabin (so no private family marshmallow roasting just before bed) and that we could faintly hear the cars rushing along the Mass Pike, several miles away. Although those two annoyances did detract from the experience, we had enough fun to more than make up for the bother.

We pulled our canoe onto the shore opposite the cabin
and spent some time checking out the fish, which clearly
were used to having people feed them from this spot.

The boys had never been in a canoe before, and at first the younger two were afraid of the gentle rocking motion as our canoe simply sat by the dock. But once we convinced them to get in and give it a try, everyone loved it. We peered over the edge of the boat at the "jungle" of pond weeds below; we floated over underwater boulders and looked for fish; we admired some ducks paddling by ahead of us; we stopped to explore the far shore and feed bugs and grasses to some fish; and we found a little beach we'd passed on the trail the previous day and stopped for a picnic lunch. Afterward, the boys built towers with rocks, threw the ball into the water for our dog, and floated in the water in their life jackets.

Our dog crosses the bridge over the marsh.

 On the hike back to our car, we stopped to rest on a rock by a wooden bridge spanning a marshy stream into the pond. We picked raspberries along the trail, and I discovered some beaked hazelnuts I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed on the way in (they were hanging right along the trail). The trip was just about perfect until we reached our car -- and found that the battery was dead. Fortunately, we found a friendly neighbor to give us a jump. As the kids all munched on apples we'd picked from a nearby neglected apple tree, we started out for home.

Photo Gallery

The boys rest on a rock by the bridge on our hike out.

My 3-year-old cuddles up with his dad.

Picking raspberries alongside the trail.

I was excited to find hog peanuts growing along the trail in a muddy section just before one of the bridges. I have seen hog peanuts once before, at a friend's vacation house in Maine, but on that occasion we couldn't find any of the subterranean beans. This time I dug up a bean, although it was all white and clearly not ready for eating. I brought the bean and the connected vine home and planted it in a pot to see whether I could start my own patch of hog peanuts, but we had some particularly dry weather, and I didn't give it enough water. I guess we'll see whether the bean sprouts in the spring anyway. Hog peanuts look like small, multicolored pebbles. I've never tasted them, but I hope I will one of these days!

There are two types of hazelnuts that grow in my area: American hazels and beaked hazels. Last year I picked American hazelnuts, but I had never found beaked hazelnuts prior to this trip. On our hike out of camp, I suddenly noticed all of these French-horn-shaped, prickly green and brown nut husks hanging alongside the trail. I became more and more incredulous as the bushes went on and on. This was just further proof that I am truly one of the most unobservant people on the planet (in middle school I once passed a newly constructed wall around the school office twice a day for two weeks before noticing it). I didn't have anything to collect the nuts in, so I contented myself with taking pictures and bringing a few samples home for further examination. Beaked hazelnuts are supposed to be harder to de-husk (the husks are prickly, so it's best to wear gloves) than American hazelnuts, but the latter are said to be more wormy. I certainly did find that I had to pitch a large proportion of the American hazels I collected last year.

Lots of Indian cucumbers grew alongside the trail, too. The part you eat is the root, which looks like a tiny, white, hairy carrot and tastes more like a cross between a mild onion and a cucumber. Indian cucumbers are what got me started on my foraging obsession.

My youngest son shows off an Indian cucumber root (he later decided he didn't want to eat it).

My middle son pulls the canoe ashore after my husband took my eldest son for a ride while the rest of us enjoyed lunch on the bank.

My older sons finish their picnic lunch while my younger one goes back to building.

My younger two sons build on the beach after our picnic.

There were hopniss vines (the subterranean tubers -- ground nuts -- are delicious) growing at our picnic spot and by the boat dock. Here you can see one of the purple flowers. The hopniss leaves are the pointy ones at right center.

Here's a close-up of the leaves and thin vine.

Here are hopniss vines growing all over a bush by the boat dock.

My eldest son gets ready to throw the ball for our dog.

My eldest and youngest sons dig on the beach.

These grapes were growing at the water's edge where we picnicked. They were as large as concord grapes (or smaller store-bought grapes), but I don't know what kind of grapes they were. They weren't ripe yet.

All grape leaves are heart shaped and simple (no lobes) but roughly jagged along the edges.

We followed this duck family for a little while.

My eldest son shows off an interesting toad he found in the field that served as a parking lot at the trailhead.