Swofford Pond

Day 165: If you've been following along for any time, you will have heard me talk about Swofford Pond and the South Swofford trail. The pond is actually a small reservoir on the south side of Riffe Lake, kept in place by a little concrete dam, and no more than 15' deep at any point. What service it provides under the definition of "reservoir" is unclear, since it empties immediately into Riffe without any sign of a flume or pumping station. Along the north shore, there are a dozen or so single-car pullouts for fishermen, seldom fully occupied although the lake is stocked with hatchery trout. Combustion motors are not allowed on the pond, so boats are also a rare sight, except for yours truly who enjoys kayaking from one end to the other. The nature trail runs along the south shore, backed by hills and for the most part, deeply shaded. Sulphur Creek tumbles down a narrow canyon, its beautiful waterfall inaccessible to any but the most determined cross-country hiker. Farms dot the north side, and on any given day, it is possible to hear dogs barking, cows mooing, discussion between fishermen carrying across the water. It is a tranquil place, for all of being man-made, and the forested slopes along the nature trail never fail to provide me with some curiosity of nature, whether it is a snail, a fungus, a lichen or other naturalist's delight. I spent many hours on the banks with a dear friend now long gone, engaged not in the activity of catching fish, but of fishing. There is a distinct difference between the two, and you cannot call yourself a fisherman if you do not understand it.