If you're a strong paddler in a fairly speedy kayak, you can paddle from the put-in at Rte. 3A to Middlesex Turnpike and back in a leisurely hour and ten minutes. If you're an accomplished paddler in a canoe with a strong partner in the front of the boat, you can do this little round trip in about an hour and twenty minutes. For casual paddlers in canoes, this round-trip will be about a two-hour or more expedition. The reason for this is that most casual paddlers spend nearly as much time negotiating the curves of the river as they do paddling, and the constant stopping and starting this entails lengthens the time on the river. Take it easy and enjoy it.

If you decide to go all the way up to Rte. 3, the distance you're adding is about half the distance between Rte. 3A and Middlesex Turnpike.

When you put your boat in the water just below Rte. 3A in Billerica, you want to head upstream. You immediately pass under the bridge, which can sometimes seem to lack the headroom to go under. This is very rarely the case in the July ­ September season, though you will often have to duck a little. There are pigeons roosting under this bridge, so it's suggested that you give a loud whoop or whistle as you enter to scare them into the air, which I've always found preferable to fresh pigeon guano on my boat or my head.

The river takes a right immediately after you've passed under the bridge. What you should notice, though, is the backwater directly in front of you as you emerge from the shadow of the bridge. Backwaters such as this one are caused by the backflow of water wherever the river takes a sharp turn. You'll see a backwater at every bridge over the Shawsheen, and you'll see a backwater at nearly every sharp turn in the floodplain. These backwaters are worth exploring. In fact, they are the nurseries of the vertebrate aquatic life of this river, and they deserve your intense attention, if you have the patience to exert it.

The Backwaters

There are shallow backwaters and there are deep ones. The backwater facing you as you emerge from the bridge is one of the deep ones, though it is no more than a foot and a half at its deepest. Typical of the Shawsheen's backwaters, the predominant vegetation is Yellow Pond Lily (aka "Spatter Dock" and "Cow Lily"). The broad leaves of the pond lily provide shade in shallow water that would otherwise be excessively warm. If you enter this first backwater, you should paddle in and then slow to a stop. Then just wait. In a couple minutes, the life of the backwater will be used to your presence, and all the activity that halted when you approached will resume. You'll notice that the water teems with life. Aquatic insects swim through the water with purpose while the various species of juvenile fish that take refuge in the backwaters seem to wander aimlessly about. If you look across the backwater, you'll see turtle heads emerging at the shallow edges of the backwater.

These painted turtles are cold-blooded omnivores (though primarily vegetarian), and their digestive systems require external heat to function. This is why they sun themselves. Because there is so little fallen wood and so few rocks in the floodplains, the turtles that live there sun themselves in the shallow water of the backwaters with their heads out of the water and their carapaces just below the surface. There are at least one and probably two snapping turtles in this first backwater as well. These are extremely shy animals, and unless you happened across one when you pulled into the backwater, you probably won't see one here.

Snapping turtles are territorial by nature, and our experience on the river leads us to believe that there is a snapping turtle for every bend in the river. Like the painted turtles, they are omnivores though primarily vegetarian. They look ferocious, but they are remarkably shy and retiring. The extraordinarily large size of this backwater seems to be the reason why there may be two snapping turtles here. I have seen one large one with a 15-inch shell and one smaller one with a 10-inch shell.

The only drawback to this backwater is that it is still within eye- and earshot of Rte. 3A. To get away from Rte. 3A and local civilization, you need to paddle another five minutes upstream.

This will happen remarkably quickly, and you may find yourself and your paddling partner unconsciously whispering to each other. Don't be embarrassed. This river does this to all of us at one point or another.

The Bends

As you round every bend in the river — assuming that it's a sunny day — you'll hear a "plop" or two and rustling grass followed by another "plop."   These are the painted turtles that were sunning themselves out of the water escaping from you.

At many of the bends in the river in this section, there is a shallow backwater directly in front of you as you make the turn. Look for the Yellow Pond Lilies. Watch the backwater, which is most likely teeming with painted turtles sunning themselves. Alarmed just like their kin who were out in the open air, these turtles make for open water. What this means is that tens of painted turtles — the number depends on the size of the backwater — start moving en masse across the shallow backwater toward the main channel of the river. It will look as if the backwater is quietly erupting. If you manage to get to the edge of the backwater before the last turtle has escaped, you will see them scurrying to the edge and then plunging out of sight into the depths of the main channel.

This scene will repeat itself at nearly every shallow backwater you encounter. The other thing you can look for and may see is a dark hump that remains stationary while the painted turtles are scurrying. This hump may have plants growing on it. Approach it slowly and take a good look. It's a snapping turtle. It suns itself for the same reasons a painted turtle does. The snapping turtle, however, relies on camouflage and disguise for evasion, and it won't move until you've gotten so close it thinks you must have seen it. When this happens, the snapping turtle rushes to the first hiding place it detects. This is the space directly under your boat. Don't be alarmed by the deep "clunk" when the snapping turtle's carapace collides with your hull. It's not attacking you or your boat; it's simply trying to hide. Give it a minute or so before you paddle off. When you leave you'll have a great, leisurely view of this dinosaur.

In the first third of the trip upstream, about ten minutes in, you should start looking for a Green Heron that frequents the area. This is a smallish heron that emits a harsh complaint between a shriek and a whistle as it takes off. It's a dark bird with bright yellow legs, which are its most easily recognizable characteristic. I don't know why it likes this particular section of the river, but it was there every time I was out in the first two weeks of July and August of 2001.

Throughout the floodplain, you will encounter Great Blue Herons. These pterodactyl-like birds are quite common on the river. The sharp turns in Floodplain 1 offer the person in the front of the canoe an adrenaline rush when the boat rounds the bend and a heron takes off three feet from the bow of the boat.  

Between ten and fifteen minutes on the trip upstream, you will come to a place where the trees approach the banks of the river on both sides.  Apparently a bridge connected two roads at this site once upon a time. When there are fewer leaves on the trees, you can see the roadbed off to the right, bordered on either side by what seem to be carefully planted white birches.

With the trees this close to the water, you might at first think that you have entered a wooded section of the river. Not yet. You will take a sharp left immediately after passing this old roadbed, and you will see a vast open floodplain directly in front of you. You may want to admire the weeping willows bordering the downstream side of this floodplain.

Twenty five yards further on, the river takes a sharp right and continues straight for an unusually long distance. That floodplain is now on your left. The stream to which that floodplain belongs enters the Shawsheen about forty yards ahead and is barely discernible. As far as we know, that stream, despite the size of its associated wetland, has no name.

Throughout the floodplain, you will see small trees, large bushes really. They have a flower that is a round, white ball of soft spikes. This is the Buttonbush, which grows to about 12 feet high. These are the principal woody plants in this floodplain, and they flower continuously throughout the summer. That is, you will almost always see a few Buttonbush in bloom while most of the others are not throughout the season. The Buttonbush is favored strongly by Red Winged Blackbirds, and their course chorus will follow you throughout the trip.

The birds you are likely not to see on this trip are ducks and geese. The reason for this will become apparent as you approach Middlesex Turnpike, but if you're familiar with any other part of the river, their absence here will strike you.

The Aerial Life

The air of this section of the river is alive with aviating insects, and they are what you will notice most and probably remember best.

No, I don't mean mosquitoes or black flies. In all my time on this section of the river, I have not been bitten once. No, what you will notice is that the air is alive with Dragonflies and Damselflies. On some summer days, you'll find yourself in a magical world, a special place where these marvelous creatures thrive and multiply in uncountable numbers.

There are a few things you should know about these insects:

1.First, the colloquial difference between a "damselfly" and a "dragonfly" is that, upon settling down, the "damselfly" folds its wings primly over its back. The "dragonfly," on the other hand, settles with its wings horizontal to the water, always on the ready for a speedy departure.

2.Second, they will settle wherever suits their fancy: on a twig, on the gunwale, or on you. They may land on your knee, your arm, or your head. To my knowledge, none has ever landed on anybody's nose.

3.Third, and perhaps most importantly, none of these will bite you or inflict any kind insult on you or your property. They are among humanity's best friends.

4.Fourth, the reason you are unlikely to be bitten by a mosquito or a black fly in this section of the river apparently overpopulated with damsel- and dragonflies is that they eat mosquitoes and black flies. They eat them in their larval form underwater, where damsel- and dragonflies spend most of their lives as predacious nymphs. (Depending on the species, they spend from one season to four years underwater as ferocious predators of small creatures, including juvenile fish, though these are more elusive prey than mosquito and black fly larvae.)  Once they graduate to the air for their last season, they continue their aggressive consumption of the insects that would normally torture us.

5.Fifth, they are indicative of a healthy aquatic ecosystem. Where they flourish, there is abundant oxygen, clean water, and vegetation that support the nymphs and provide a smorgasbord for their juvenile and adult appetites.

In this section of the river, indeed in every section of the river but here especially, the air will be filled with a spectacularly beautiful damselfly with an iridescent blue/green body and jet-black wings. It flies in a manner that I can only describe as "loopy," with the connotations both of vertically circular and slightly deranged both being applicable. This damselfly, known as the Ebony Jewelwing, is weightless, yet will make a stalk of sedge grass waver should the Ebony Jewelwing alight on it.

Therein lies the comedy. The Ebony Jewelwing almost always takes off immediately after realizing that the stalk it landed on isn't sturdy, only to land on another to repeat the process. After you've watched this a hundred times in twenty minutes, you'll understand why I can only find the word "loopy" to describe their flight.

The other three most common aerial predators circling your head, landing on your arm, and settling on your gunwale, are the following:

•Twelve-Spotted Skimmer ­ a dragonfly with a relatively slender body whose wings have alternating black spots, white spots, and transparent spaces.

•Common Whitetail ­ a dragonfly whose wings have a black band bordered by transparency but recognizable mainly by the very noticeable white body. This very fast flyer seems solitary. Where you see one, you will rarely see another, but the species seems to propagate nonetheless.

•Azure Bluet ­ a damselfly that has a very slender body and transparent wings. The body of the male is blue while that of the female is gray or brown. This damselfly overtakes the Ebony Jewelwing in numbers by the end of July.

For a very nice description of a selected variety of common damsel- and dragonflies, I refer you to the July/August 2001 issue of Sanctuary, The Journal of the Massachusetts Audubon Society, which carries the title "WingÈd Victories."

Yes, this first article will end soon, but I want you to get the hint that perhaps the most enchanting part of this piece of the river is the magic of the damselflies and their cousins, the dragonflies.

The Turnaround

Heading upstream, you've paddled countless curves. You've been amused by the Ebony Jewelwings, which you miraculously don't accidentally inhale. You're accustomed to the raspy complaint of the Redwing Blackbirds in the Buttonbush you find everywhere.

Then you hear the fireworks. All kinds of fireworks. You can't tell, largely because this is not by any means a straight river, whether the fireworks are on the left or the right side of the floodplain.

Well, they're not fireworks. That's weapon fire. Most of it comes from the Woburn Sportsman's Rod & Gun Club on the right side of the floodplain as you're headed upstream. Occasionally, however, it comes from the left side, where the Bedford Police Department has an informal firing range. (Did you take umbrage when I mentioned "urban sprawl" earlier? Well, the Shawsheen River offers the last "unoccupied" places these shootists can practice their art.)

If you decide to continue upstream rather than turn around, you might want to know that the firing range on the right and the firing range on the left both have "away from the river" policies. This means that you will not be shot accidentally as long as everybody follows the rules. 

Regardless, on some days, especially in the fall for some reason, you will have the sense that people from both sides of the floodplain are shooting at you with very lethal tools. It's frightening, and it's probably good for you to be frightened at this martial exercise.

Ducks and Geese, having long ago discovered that gunfire is bad for them, are seldom found within earshot of Middlesex Turnpike.

This is why you will only see the rare stupidly suspicious duck or severely deranged goose anywhere on this section of the river.

The few ducks that I have seen are even more skittish than the paranoia-stricken wild ones we see elsewhere on the river. In fact, the few I have seen here are obviously living in a world absolutely distinct from the one you're looking at while you're on the river.

If you've decided to proceed and ignore the gunfire, don't worry.  As far as we know, nobody has ever been unintentionally shot on the Shawsheen River...or intentionally, either.

There is a straight section that runs right along the gun club's property as you approach Middlesex Turnpike. You'll see wooden profiles of a coyote, a deer, a bobcat, and maybe some other form of wildlife that thrives in the suburbs.

You will also see, in the middle of the channel, a large section of curved corrugated metal. This is a piece of metal left over from the construction of the culverts you are about to pass through. Going through one culvert and then around and through the other is a good easy way to turn around.

When you turn around, the river will look somehow different. It will feel different, too.

Paddling upstream forces you to go more slowly. It allows you to see things and smell things and hear things that you seldom notice when you're paddling downstream. Paddling downstream, you will see more of those turtles that escaped your view as you rounded the bend. You're making less noise paddling, and you're progressing much faster with each stroke.

You're even likely to find yourself feeling slightly impatient to get through the areas you've already paddled. This is a mistake.

Back Downstream

Now you won't even notice the backwaters. You're likely simply following the channel.

Instead of bracing and back paddling for the sharp turn you see approaching, take advantage of the moment. When you get to the turn, simply put your paddle into the water on the other side and slide silently into the backwater there.

What a difference!

The turtles had no warning. They couldn't hear you splashing against the current as you approached. You're right there among them!

And isn't it a marvel to behold? A veritable field of brilliant-red-streaked turtles hunkered down in the shallow water all around your boat.

(If you feel bad about harassing the wildlife, then don't slide into any more backwaters from upstream, Ok? Everybody who can do it right should do it at least once just to see the miracle of the beauty and abundance of these Shawsheen River turtles.)

The trip back down is quick. The current is stronger than you imagined when you were paddling against it.

When you see the enormous American flag on the pole, you know you're close to Rte. 3A again. Paddle on. There is a mere three quarters of a mile of Floodplain 1 after you pass under the bridge.

When you pass under the bridge, you're once again at the pool where you started. This time, however, you're going to pass through the riffle I cautioned you against earlier. Stay as close to the right as you can to enjoy this little scoot along the water.

After that, it's a fairly straight shot downstream to the soccer fields. Just before you reach the soccer fields, you'll see a large concrete culvert on your right. This drains a good third of East Billerica and has deposited decades of road sand and road gravel in the streambed. Stay to the left and brave the bushes brushing your face if necessary. Otherwise, except in the deepest water, you'll scrape bottom and have to get out and drag your boat through this little patch.

There is a straight section of the river as it passes the soccer fields. The floodplain is on your left. Between a quarter and a third of a mile downstream, the river resumes its meandering, which means that you are paddling through meadow on both sides. There is a large development on your right after you pass the soccer fields, but you probably won't notice it in the summer when the buttonbush, maples, and oaks are in leaf.

You will notice the large weeping willow at the end of the floodplain long before you get there. This is the tree that I earlier referred to as the "Gateway Willow" because it marks the end of the First Meadow and the entrance into the first wooded section of the river. (The wooded section in Bedford is more a drainage system than a river, and the local wildlife reflects that condition.)

The Gateway Willow has been providing food for beavers for quite some time, and it seems almost miraculous that the tree not only survives but also seems to thrive.

The Conclusion

Floodplain 1 (the First Meadow) is one of the most accessible, easily paddled sections of the Shawsheen River, and we recommend it highly to everybody who wants to see the Shawsheen River for the first time. Much of what is true of this section of the river is true for the rest as well.

The SRWA is particularly proud of this section of the river because a mere ten years ago it was not only ugly and fouled with trash beyond description, it couldn't be navigated. The channel was filled with 50-gallon drums, shopping carts, tires, bed frames, water heaters, refrigerators, and other large objects of civilization's debris.

Now, ten years after having started on this section, we are still uncovering a new layer of ditched tires every year. They are, however, getting to be few and farther between, and it has been a long time since we extracted a new tire from the bottom of the river.

If you've read this far, and you're interested in seeing what I've attempted to describe here but don't have a canoe, please contact Bob Rauseo at (978) 851-9505. The SRWA has access to a small number of canoes that we are happy to lend out if it will help people become better acquainted with the Shawsheen River.

Tuesdays With The Captain