Chapman Mills and Heart’s Desire, South Nepean

When I visit the woodlots of South Nepean, I think of my years growing up in Esquimalt, Victoria, British Columbia.  I didn’t know, living in Esquimalt, that I was privileged to have one of Canada’s most endangered ecosystems in my backyard.  Highrock Park, or the “Cairn” as we knew it, was simply the place where we played after homework on a school night or rode our bikes on the weekend.  It rose above my neighborhood:  a rock bald, surrounded by a skirt of open woodland.

I didn’t know about Garry oak parkland and savannah.  No-one told me that I couldn’t play in the Cairn because it was special, or because I might damage myself.  Sure, I came back with skinned knees and bee stings.  And on warm summer evenings, when the local teens would sometimes gather in the twilight under the trees to consume beer or other elicit substances, my parents didn’t forbid me the adventure of the dark.  We climbed the twisted oak trees and played hide-and-seek in the thickets.

I think that I first learned my love of rock on the Cairn.  I couldn’t identify the hill as an exposed “pluton” of granite — a lump of igneous rock formed far down in the earth’s mantle 400 million years ago.  I didn’t know that the cataclysmic formation of western North America had thrust it to the surface.  I traced the long, parallel grooves on the smoothed rock without knowing about the pebbles that had gouged them under the weight of two kilometres of glacial ice.  I just loved the feeling of the hard stone under my hand, as I scrambled over the flanks of the hill or sat with my legs pulled up to my chest, looking out over my home.

Perhaps that’s why tree-forts and home-made mountain bike tracks usually don’t trouble me, even when I find them in some of Ottawa’s protected natural areas.  When I see bike trails, jumps and obstacles worn and carved into a place like the Chapman Mills East forest, I think of how much I would have enjoyed them as a kid.

A wide, dirt mountain bike track cuts through the middle of the Chapman Mills East Woodlot.
Mountain Bike Track, Chapman Mills East Woodlot

Most people driving past on Strandheard Road and Prince of Wales Drive likely give little more than a glance to the three adjacent patches of forest.  Few of them would suspect that these emerald gems contain some of Ottawa’s largest trees:  maples, beeches and oaks that rise like the pillars of a cathedral.  Under their boughs, a profusion of wildflowers bursts forth in spring:  trilliums, trout lilies, false solomon’s seal, violets, jack-in-the-pulpit.  Vireos sing high overhead.  With their windows rolled up and air conditioners running, few of the passing drivers will ever feel the coolness of the woods, or hear the susurration of the leaves as a breeze passes through the canopy.

The thick trunks of two maples and a beech rise from the forest floor.
Maple and Beech in Chapman Mills East
A blanket of white and painted trilliums bloom in Chapman Mills East
Trilliums in Chapman Mills East
A small patch of wood betony blooms is fleck of sunlight beside a stone in Heart's Desire.
Wood Betony in Heart’s Desire

The neighbours, I suspect, would prefer to keep it that way.  Walking through Chapman Mills East on a warm, weekday afternoon, I marvel at the lack of traffic.  I pass a few dogs and their owners sauntering the trails.  The occasional runner pads past me.  Most of the time, though, I have the woods to myself.  Apart from the distant sounds of traffic, I might be alone in the world.

Hopefully the evenings and weekends see more visitors.  Each of the South Nepean woodlots has its own charms and attractions.  Chapman Mills East, along Cresthaven Drive and Serena Way, is the easiest to love, with its towering maples, huge decaying logs, and dense mat of herbs and wildflowers.  Deep shade gives way to a patch of sunlight, where a snag has finally crumbled to the forest floor.  In the sunny gap, new growth reaches to the sky.  Bumblebees travel from flower to flower, then circle and drone off to a hollowed, old tree.  A pileated woodpecker hammers at a rotten white birch, while squirrels scold the intruder.  Old stone walls lie along the perimeter, marking the edges of old farm fields.

The massive trunk of a downed maple tree lies in a blanket of seedlings on the forest floor.
Rotting Log in Chapman Mills East
A path crosses a tumbled wall of old boulders, through a frame of trees, into the Chapman Mills Woodlot.
Entrance to Chapman Mills East from Serena Way

Chapman Mills West has a different character.  Lying astride Clearbrook Drive, it consists of two very different forest types.  In the southern, larger section, a dry cedar forest surrounds and hides a small, pretty, swamp.  Frogs croak along the marshy edges, while pairs of mallards raise chicks in the dense underbrush.  Just inside the south edge of the woodlot, the City’s Park Planners have cleverly threaded a fitness trail from Mancini Park.  Next door, where the School Board has allowed a small portion of the woodlot to remain in the yard, the worn earth under the cedars attests to affinity of children for trees.

A dense stand of cedar trees shades a dry, almost bare forest floor.
Cedar Forest in Chapman Mills West, South Section
Bright green leaves reflect in the water of a swamp in Chapman Mills West.
Reflections, Chapman Mills West Swamp
A pair of adult mallards and a chick sit on a log in the Chapman Mills West swamp.
Mallards, Chapman Mills West Swamp
A stonedust trail runs through large cedars, beside a bench and an inclined sit-up board.
Fitness Trail, Chapman Mills West, South Section
Two massive maples trees rise from the forest floor in the Chapman Mills West Woodlot.
Maples On the Fitness Trail, Mancini Park, Chapman Mills West

The smaller, north portion of Chapman Mills West appears younger, higher and drier.  Between scattered patches of cedar, an open forest of light-loving shrubs and trees creates a more pastoral feeling.  And, indeed, the woodlot may have provided pasture for cattle or horses before Chapman Mills was transformed from farmland to suburbia.  Over time, the forest canopy should fill in, especially now that the Ottawa Stewardship Council, with help from local schools and Ward Councillor Michael Qaqish, have taken an interest in managing and improving the woodlot.

A showy cherry tree blooms along the edge of the Chapman Mills West woodlot.
Cherry Tree, Chapman Mills West
Sunlight bathes an open forest of young trees in the north section of the Chapman Mills West Woodlot
Open Forest, Chapman Mills West
The perched roots of a birch tree still drape over the decayed stump on which it sprouted.
Life From Death, Chapman Mills West
Canada Mayflower grows near the roots of a tree. The plants have a single leaf each, typical of the non-flowering individuals.
Canada Mayflower, Chapman Mills West

Heart’s Desire, on the north bank of the Jock River, appears superficially like Chapman Mills East.  Here, though, massive oak trees dominate the forest.  And whereas blue cohosh seemed to blanket the floor of Chapman Mills East, false solomon’s seal carpets Heart’s Desire.  However, Heart’s Desire really gains its charm from the Jock River.  Spilling over a small weir and then flowing under Prince of Wales Drive, down to the Rideau River, this reach of the Jock runs along a stoney bed, with alternating riffles and pools that beg for a well-placed fly.  Through the summer months, large boulders provide tempting stepping stones to the other side.  The steep, wooded south bank provides an idyllic backdrop and creates a sense of wildness and privacy that belies the surrounding suburbs.

A massive red oak tree reaches to the canopy of Heart's Desire.
Red Oak, Heart’s Desire
A view of the Jock River through the foliage in Heart's Desire.
Jock River, Heart’s Desire
Boulders fill the bed of the Jock River, providing stepping stones to the far shore.
Stepping Stones, Heart’s Desire
White boulders lie on the south shoreline of the Jock River, against a emerald background of trees.
Across the River, Heart’s Desire

When I visualize South Nepean’s woodlots, I see children.  I see them racing bicycles along the paths, searching for frogs, and leaving damp footprints on white riverstones.  I hear unrestrained shouts and laughter under the trees.  Perhaps in my heart, I still feel myself with them.

I certainly feel torn.  When I look at the damage that already occurs to our woodlots — the trash, the yard waste, the bags of dog faeces — I wonder if the wildflowers and other delicate organisms in the forest floor can also withstand the trampling of young feet.  I think of myself as a boy, wriggling through the underbrush in Highrock Park and bouncing my bicycle off tree roots on dirt tracks.  Perhaps, along the way, I trampled something rare or special.  Perhaps the butterfly in my jar shouldn’t have been there.  But those experiences, and my other childhood explorations, taught me to love the natural world.  They set me on the path to where I am today.

A pile of grass clippings and other yard waste smothers the native plants in Champman Mills East.
Yard Waste, Chapman Mills East
A pile of trash lies along a path in Chapman Mills East
Trash, Chapman Mills East
Broad-leaved toothwort blooms on the forest floor in Chapman Mills East.
Broad-leaved Toothwort, Chapman Mills East
In this close-up of a jack-in-the-pulpit flower, the clublike spathe can be seen emerging from the hooded, tubular, green and red flower.
Jack-in-the-pulpit, Chapman Mills West
A cluster of false solomon's seal blossoms in Heart's Desire.
False Solomon’s Seal, Heart’s Desire

Yes, we need to protect our urban natural areas from careless and unnecessary damage.  We should educate our children to cherish and respect these marvelous places.  We can even try to direct their enthusiasm.  But we should never tell them that they can’t ride their bikes or build tree forts, imply that they don’t belong among the trees, or frown on their ebullience.  We need more children in our urban forests, not fewer.

Poole Creek, Stittsville

I’m crouched low, slowly creeping through young ferns and cedars toward a shaded pool, where my instincts tell me a brown trout should be resting.  Sunlight and reflections dapple the surface of the water.  In the shadow of the bank, the sandy, leaf-littered creek bottom looks bronze.  Freezing against a tree trunk, I concentrate on the patches of bronze, looking for movement.  After a few seconds, I can make out the shape, then the speckled, grey back and splash of gold on the sides, holding near the bottom.  Perhaps 14 inches long, and just over a pound.  I raise my camera, and try to slide surreptitiously into a better position.  With a quick flip of its tail, the fish is gone.

A cedar tree leans over the still surface of small creek pool.
Trout Pool, Upper Poole Creek

This isn’t Algonquin Park, the Madawaska Highlands, or Upper State New York.  This is Poole Creek, in the heart of Stittsville, one of Ottawa’s rapidly growing suburbs.

Like many people, I first visited Stittsville around 1980, on a Sunday family outing to the village’s famous flea market.  It was a small bedroom community clustered along its Main Street.  Since then, the village has merged with the City of Ottawa and grown into a busy suburb of 27,000 people, with more development and homes appearing every year.  As the village has grown, it has displaced much of the farmland, forest and wetland that once surrounded it.

Fortunately, throughout all of that growth, the community has had the wisdom to preserve Poole Creek — one of only two, truly cold-water creeks in the Ottawa area.  Poole Creek originates in the provincially-significant Goulbourn Wetland, about 1 km west of Stittsville along the Trans-Canada Trail.  An observation platform looks north over a large expanse of cattail marsh, while the creek begins its life flowing south under the trail through a steel culvert.  Barn swallows nest below the platform, and a careful observer might spot a well-camouflaged snipe probing the exposed mud flats with its long bill.  Common yellowthroats — pretty, masked warblers — call “witchitty, wichitty, witchitty” from the thickets.

A panorama view of large cattail marsh, the Goulbourn Wetland.
The Goulbourn Wetland
An observation platform at the side of a gravel trail overlooks the Goulbourn Wetland.
Observation Platform, Trans-Canada Trail

Local residents familar with the Goulbourn Wetland will have seen recent changes to it.  Water levels in the wetland have dropped since the City of Ottawa Drainage Unit and Roads Department replaced the collapsed culvert under the trail.  The culvert, and the beavers that habitually dammed it, had created a substantial pond extending into the marsh.  The replacement of the culvert and routine trapping of the beavers by the City has been controversial.  Whether justified or not, the resulting changes to the wetland need to be assessed in an historical context.  Aerial photography prior to the 1990s, when beavers recolonized the area, shows that much more of the wetland existed as swamp — suggesting that water levels were lower at that time.  In all likelihood, the wetland has probably gone through many changes since European settlement, as beavers were trapped out, the railroad built (the bed of the current trail), farms cleared and then abandoned.  The wetland will likely change again as it adjusts to the lowered water levels, perhaps seeing the conversion of marsh to swamp.  However, there’s little danger of the wetland vanishing, given the low topography of the area and size of the contributing catchment.

The Goulbourn Wetland and surrounding areas actually contribute very little to the flow of Poole Creek, except during the spring runoff and large storms.  Outside the wetland area, the thin, clay and till soils dry out quickly in the summer months.  Even before the culvert work and lowering of water levels in the wetland, Poole Creek west of Stittsville was classified as “seasonally intermittent”.  In dry summers, lengthy portions of the channel cease to flow, and minnows cluster in isolated pools as easy prey for birds and raccoons.

Yellow marsh marigolds bloom beside Upper Poole Creek.
Marsh Marigold Along Upper Poole Creek

Shortly after flowing under Westridge Drive into Stittsville, Poole Creek changes character.  The western side of Stittsville lies along a relict beach of the ancient Champlain Sea, which covered much of the Ottawa Valley following the retreat of the glaciers 10,000 years ago.  Rainfall infiltrates more easily into the sandy, beach soils than the clay and till soils that dominate most of the City.  Rather than running quickly along the surface, the water percolates slowly through the earth toward Poole Creek.  By the time that it seeps and wells up into the creek channel, the water has cooled to the temperature of the deeper soil.  Consequently, once it enters the village, Poole Creek quickly changes to a permanent, coldwater stream.

A small creek runs through an open, grassy channel, with several deeper pools.
Poole Creek at Westridge Drive

From Westridge to its mouth at the Carp River, five kilometres downstream, Poole Creek meanders through the village in a mostly natural corridor anywhere from 30 meter to 70 meters in width.  Immediately upstream and downstream of Stittsville Main Street, a healthy canopy of trees overhangs the creek.  Short riffles alternate with deeper pools.  Here, in the clear, cold water, local organizations introduced brown trout about twenty years ago, constructing “lunker boxes” for shelter and stabilizing the banks to improve the habitat.  The trout remain, virtually unknown to anyone but a few fly-fishers, who practice a careful catch-and-release to preserve the small population.

Cedar trees lean from right and left, creating a shady canopy over Poole Creek
Cedar Trees Along Upper Poole Creek
Poole Creek flows under the shade of cedar trees. Marsh Marigolds bloom beside the creek in the foreground.
Upper Poole Creek

Although the Trans-Canada Trail deviates from Poole Creek at Westridge Drive, another trail system picks up from it, following the creek in fits and starts for much of its length toward the Carp River.  However, any visit to Poole Creek would be incomplete without a detour to Quitters Coffee, where the Trans-Canada Trail crosses Stittsville Main Street.  Just a block or so south of Poole Creek, Quitters makes great pastries and sandwiches, while selling the best coffee in Stittsville.  You can sit in the spacious, bright cafe or relax outside on the patio.  With any luck, you might meet the owner, singer-songwriter Kathleen Edwards.

Just east of Main Street, Poole Creek turns north and dissappears into a large remnant of Stittsville’s once extensive wetlands.  Almost inaccessible, the wetland remains largely unsurveyed and uninventoried.  However, I suspect that an bioinventory would likely reveal several species at risk, especially Blanding’s turtle, which is known from the Goulbourn Wetland Complex and several isolated observations elsewhere in the village.  From the wetland, the Creek runs through the Amberwood Village Golf and Country Club, finally emerging back into the public realm at Springbrook Drive.  You can bypass the wetland and golfcourse by following the trail out on to Beechfern Drive (crossing a pretty little bridge on the way), and then taking every left turn until you arrive at Springbrook.  Along the way, you will follow a short, pretty trail between Hesse Crescent and Pine Bluff Trail, crossing a bridge over a small tributary.  The bridge provides a good place to pause and watch dragonflies, or listen to chickadees and common yellowthroats singing in the shrubs.

A woodend footbridge crosses Poole Creek.
Footbridge over Poole Creek

The trail picks up again on the north side of Poole Creek, where it crosses under Springbrook Drive.  This is a good place to see the impact of emerald ash borer on Ottawa’s urban canopy.  Where the trail once entered a shady grove, it now passes through a bright, open woodland, dotted with the stumps of ash trees.  Killed by the little, invasive green beetle, the dead trees posed a safety hazard to the children and other residents using the trail.  Although shocking at first glance, the clearing will soon be hidden by the growth of new shrubs and trees taking advantage of the abundance of light.

Children ride their bicycles along Poole Creek. The stumps of ash trees are visible in the foreground.
Children Riding Along Poole Creek

The stretch of Poole Creek between Springbrook Drive and Sweetnam Drive may be its prettiest section.  The creek burbles happily through the forest, then crosses under a footbridge into an open wetland.  On the south side of the creek, where the trail runs, some adjacent residents have taken it upon themselves to clear a small grassy area down to the creek bank.  Normally, the City frowns on such incursions into public natural areas.  In this case, though, the lawn provides views up and down the creek, allowing greater appreciation of the marshy floodplain.  In past years, beavers dammed the lower end of the reach, creating a pretty pond, which the City managed through use of a “beaver deceiver” to prevent flooding of the trail.  Although they have now abandoned the site, the beavers will no doubt return in the future.  In the meantime, the area still provides a wonderful place to observe birds, including the occasional great blue heron hunting frogs along the creek, or a Cooper’s hawk hunting unwary snakes.  A quiet, careful observer might even find painted turtles sunning themselves on the banks.

A wooden footbridge crosses Poole Creek over a stoney riffle. Sunlight sparkles on the water.
Footbridge Over Poole Creek

Past Sweetnam Drive, Poole Creek changes character again.  After a short run out of sight, it crosses under busy Hazeldean Road and enters one of the City’s newest neighbourhoods.  Where it once meandered through farmland, the creek nows winds between recent or still-developing subdivisions.  Deeper, clay soils have allowed the creek to carve a valley dense in places with Manitoba maple, crack willow and thorny thickets.  Following the creek becomes more difficult.  With construction still underway, the trail remains incomplete.  Good vantage points exist up and downstream of Huntmar Drive, beside one of the established subdivisions.

At first glance, the view in this area seems uninspiring.  With a few exceptions, the creek exhibits little of the primordial wildness of the upper reaches.  The nearby homes look down into the valley, which appears sadly exposed.

A pathway runs along the top of the Lower Poole Creek Valley, with homes clustured along the outside.
Lower Poole Creek Near Huntmar

Such a perspective ignores what the creek has been and what it will become.  In the past, when farmland lined the creek, the grassy valley provided pasture for farm animals, who would water in the creek, trampling and eroding the banks.  Animals would defecate in the creek.  Grazing maintained an open valley, exposing the creek to continuous sunlight and warming the water.  Although much of Ottawa’s agricultural community has embraced new, sustainable animal husbandry, such conditions still exist in some other creeks in Ottawa’s rural area.  We see the impacts as poor water quality, dismal aquatic habitat, and low native biodiversity.

Lower Poole Creek reminds me of the Don Valley, in North York, where I lived for year in 1975.  I recall the matted grasses along the riverbank in the spring, when the ice had finally melted.  I recall the dusty, dirt tracks on which we rode our bicycles, which turned to mud in the slightest rain.  When I visited that same site in summer 30 years later, I did not recognize it.  Where I’d known a wide, open, baking hot valley, I found a young forest and a cool, clear creek.

The same transformation will occur along lower Poole Creek.  Already, the local developers, the City and the Conservation Authority have planted hundreds of trees, which will stabilize and shade the creek banks as they grow.  They will plant more trees, and nature will play its own role, filling in the spaces.  By the time that the children in the neighbourhood have their own children, they will marvel at the changes.  A forest will fill the valley.  Spring mornings will sparkle with birdsong, and along secret ways, wildlife will follow the water.

Lower Poole Creek winds through a partially-wooded valley, with houses in the background.
Lower Poole Creek at Huntmar
Young trees and shrubs begin to colonize lower Poole Creek.
Lower Poole Creek: Early Transformations

Poole Creek demonstrates why my fellow environmental planners and I fight so hard to conserve and restore urban creek and stream corridors.  We often hear, “it’s just a ditch” or “it’s not worth protecting.”  In almost every case, we find ourselves having to justify the few metres required to protect these places.  We fight these battles not only because that’s our job, but because we see what these space will be in the future:  places of refuge for people and wildlife, where children can explore, lovers can embrace, and fish hide in shaded pools.

Lower Poole Creek meanders through a wooded valley.
Lower Poole Creek