MOHAWK - Discovering the Valley of the Crystals Copyright 2002 & 2004
Chapter 12 - Tributaries
Otsquago Creek:
Otsquago Creek begins as a rivulet along Route 80 just north of Summit
Lake in Otsego County. It flows north, crossing into Herkimer County at
1.5 miles, picks up the waters of the New York State Fish Hatchery outflow
before turning northeast through Van Hornesville at 2.5 miles.
The Creek parallels Route 80 for most of its length,
descending through a gorge to Starkville, crossing into Montgomery County
at 7.5 miles and meandering east to Hallsville at 11 miles. Here the Otsquago
continues its descent through Valley Brook and into the village of Fort
Plain where it flows under Route 5S and the NYS Thruway before entering
the Mohawk River/Erie Canal. Total descent 1100 feet; distance of 17 miles.
The Fort Plain area is rich in history, having been
the location of a number of Indian villages, a Revolutionary War fort and
significant historical events. Years ago the Otsquago provided waterpower
for mills in Fort Plain and every village it flows through.
Today the creek provides recreational opportunity
for lovers of wildlife, wildflowers and wild places. Rock ledges, waterfalls
and pools add to the beauty of the valley and offer occasional places to
swim and fish.
Each year the New York State Department of Environmental
Conservation (DEC) stocks a couple thousand rainbow trout and a few hundred
brown trout in the upper regions of the creek, and over 1500 browns in
the lower section. The State Fish Hatchery near Van Hornesville raises
the rainbows.
Discovery:
Otsquago Valley - A Walk Through Time
September 6, 2000 - 45 degrees and foggy
When I told Ron Gugnacki about the Cayadutta discovery
trip, he volunteered to join me on the Otsquago. I told him the fishing
might not be good, but we should see some interesting country and perhaps
visit the site of an Indian village that was occupied 550 years ago.
The area near this red foot bridge
was beautiful but fishless.
After Ron parked his truck near a bridge on a small
tributary of the Otsquago, we drove down to Valley Brook. Fog hung heavy
in the valley at 9 a.m. when we started our upstream trek. The pools and
runs below the first waterfalls looked good, but our efforts to entice
fish proved fruitless, so we climbed up the side of the falls and under
a bright red footbridge. This wide section of the creek ran over shale,
providing easy walking and some runs and holes . . . but no fish. Not even
a minnow. We did see a couple of crayfish and a great blue heron, so the
stream was not completely devoid of life.
Goldenrod and purple aster grew along the shoreline
on the right; a shale cliff topped with poplar and birch on the left.
Just above this section, the streambed turned to rock and cobble; grassy
fields on the right, a wooded ridge on the left. It was tough wading through
this boulder-strewn section.
Around 9:30, the morning sun started burning through
the fog. Fifteen minutes later we came to the mouth of a tributary that
according to my research could lead to the site of an old Indian village.
The mouth of this creek was littered with glacial-rounded rocks, but just
upstream shale outcrops dominated the creekbed, as they did for most of
its length.
Near a short stretch of big boulders we saw patches
of black-eyed Susan and some beautiful purple flowers I couldn't identify.
Nearby a field of alfalfa filled a valley flat on our right.
We
heard the cry of a hawk, saw a great blue heron and spotted minnows in
the creek all at the same time. The heron apparently got tired of flying
upstream ahead of us, because it flew downstream, right over Ron's head.
That doesn't happen often.
Just downstream from a heavily wooded area, purple
loosestrife, touch-me-nots and chicory grew streamside. The valley woodland
consisted of big sycamores, willow, maple, locust, poplar, scrub elm and
grapevines.
It was around 10:30 when we walked along
the bottom of a steep-wooded bank, past a small tributary, around a sharp
bend and along the bottom of an 80-foot high shale cliff. The streambed
was a series of shale steps, with broken chunks of shale and a few rocks
here and there. Snails stuck to the rocks.
When I looked at the top of the cliff, noting a
big white pine silhouetted against the blue sky, I knew this had to be
the site of the long ago Indian village. Located at this sharp bend in
the creek---slate cliff on one side, steep gully on the other---it
was a high-ground peninsula, defensible on three sides.
Long ago there was an Indian village atop this cliff.
We explored the cliff and creek bottom, taking photos of rockslides
and a bird nest built on a shelf part way up the precipice. At 11 a.m.
we returned to the lower end of the cliff and followed a deer trail up
the steep bank to the top. The climb wasn't that difficult, but it helped
to have hemlocks to hold on to. This bank was probably devoid of cover
and much steeper 500 years ago.
On the top, a variety of thick groundcover, plus
hemlock, maple, cherry, beech, oak, birch and a few white pine grew where
a village once stood.
Amateur and professional archaeologists and anthropologists
. . . and treasure hunters . . . have excavated this "Otstungo Site" since
it was first discovered in the early 1800s. Thousands of artifacts that
were removed from this site are in both personal and public collections.
Many of these excavations destroyed the integrity of the layout of the
village, however, professional excavations conducted from 1985 to 1987,
revealed the location of a large longhouse, hearths, storage pits and a
". . . palisade and ditch across the neck of the site's peninsular hilltop."
Ron and I walked through the woods to the neck of
the hilltop and looked out into the open fields where cows were grazing.
Five hundred years ago these same fields were planted to corn and beans.
Not just a few plants, but enough to feed the 600 people that lived behind
the palisade.
It's difficult to explain how I feel when I visit
such a site. Much of what I feel is awe, but some is wonder. I wonder how
the Mohawk Indians who lived here discovered this unique location? Did
they walk up the creekbed, perhaps seeking game, fish or mussels, or did
they find it while traveling overland? How long did it take to build enough
longhouses and plant enough crops for 600 people? Were there attacks
on the village; repulsed with rocks, arrows and spears thrown down the
steep banks and over the palisade? What was the daily life of the
village? How many people were born here; died here? What did it sound
like; smell like? I tried to imagine.
We had no interest in digging where so many others
had cut away the topsoil, but it would be nice to find some evidence that
this was indeed a village site. So, we climbed down into the gully on the
side opposite the cliff. There was only a trickle of water in the
bottom of the gully, but we found a pool that had collected water and sediment.
Here we discovered some mussel shells and a tiny piece of pottery.
It was noon when we climbed back down to the bottom
of the cliff and continued upstream, passing a small waterfalls and
some hickory, butternut and beechnut trees. Were such trees here 500 years
ago?
Except for discovering the unmistakable tracks of
four-wheel ATVs in the algae-covered shale streambed, the rest of the trip
was uneventful. We climbed up the bank to Ron's truck at 12:30, having
completed our first discovery trip in Otsquago Valley.
I'm not sure how Ron felt about our adventure, but
he stopped carping about the lousy fishing after we visited the Mohawk
village site.
Update:Van
Hornesville Fish Hatchery
The
other day (2-15-01), I visited the Van Hornesville Fish Hatchery and talked
to Hatchery Manager, Larry Kroon. He told me they raised 420, 000 rainbow
trout this year, and in a month or so these 8 to 9-inch fish will be ready
to stock in streams all over upstate New York. It was quite a sight seeing
all those fish in the hatchery's circular ponds. The small pond holding
a few giant rainbows was also impressive.
The Van Hornesville Hatchery site, consisting of
8.2 acres of land and two spring water sources, was given to New York State
as a gift by local benefactor Owen D. Young. Development of the hatchery
began in 1933, and by 1937 consisted of dirt and gravel ponds, a concrete
aeration dam on the main spring, and two stone buildings.
In the late 1940s and early 1950s, rearing ponds
were enlarged and improved by enclosing them with stone walls. A small
hatch house was built in 1951 and a house was built for the manager in
1954.
The Van Hornesville Fish Hatchery is an interesting place to visit during late winter and early spring when the hatchery pools are filled with thousands of rainbow trout.
Originally used for brook trout production, today
the hatchery produces only rainbow trout. The hatchery has a staff of three
full time and one seasonal employee. The public is invited to visit the
hatchery between 8:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. Follow Route 80 south from Fort
Plain. After passing through the village of Van Hornesville, look for the
hatchery sign on your right.
Incidentally, right in the village is a large stone
building---now a feed store---that was the last of the many grist mills
on Otsquago Creek, and one of the few remaining buildings of its kind in
upstate New York.
I returned on February 2, 2001 with my wife, Gert and grand kids, Jack and Andrea Nicholoson. They were amazed at the number and size of the fish in the outside pools.
Discovery: Nature Trail at Van Hornesville - Woods, Waterfalls & Caves
May 20, 2004, 72 degrees, Sunny
Otsquago Creek between Van Hornesville and Starkville is unique. Much of it is in a gorge where waterfalls and rapids abound. I've wanted to explore---and fish---this section, for years but never got around to it. However, a recent article in Utica's Observer Dispatch by Linda Murphy describing a nature trail in the gorge, peaked my interest. Linda rated the trail as "easy." My wife, Gert---who recently celebrated her 39th birthday for the 31st time---likes easy trails, so I had no problem convincing her to join me on a discovery trip to Van Hornesville.
The Outdoor Learning Center was dedicated to Van Hornesville
teacher, coach, principal, and community leader, Robert
B. Woodruff.
Access to the 1.25-mile nature trail is off Route
80 on the north side of one of the most beautiful schools in the Mohawk
Valley. The original stone block buildings were donated to the village
in 1927 by a "local boy" who grew up on a farm in Van Hornesville in the
late 1800s and went on to become Chairman of the Board of General Electric
and RCA. Today 30 teachers instruct 244 students in grades K through 12
in the Owen D. Young Central School. 
A sharp left at the bottom of a hill brought us
to the parking lot of the Robert Woodruff Outdoor Learning Center. After
reading the signs, map and plaques at the center, we started down the wooded
trail. It was 11:50.Ten minutes later we were standing at the bottom of
a falls that once provided waterpower for a sawmill. Downstream from the
falls a rusted water turbine stood sentinel. The trail leading to the falls
ran off the main trail and the climb down was a mite precarious, but well
worth the challenge.
We returned to the main trail and continued northward
to the "caves" and another waterfalls. Just beyond an outcrop of water-sculptured
limestone---that looked like coral and featured several small caves---was
a boardwalk that led to the bottom of Creamery Falls. The mainstream falls
was impressive but it was the tributary cascading down the side of the
gorge that made this scene quite spectacular. After photographing the falls
and the caves, we returned to the main trail . . . and discovered a tree
had fallen across the trail and damaged a wooden bridge that crossed a
gorge-side tributary. Gert wasn't too excited about crawling through the
branches of the downed tree and crossing the damaged bridge, so we headed
back up the trail.
side of the gorge added to the
splendor of Creamery Falls.
Just beyond the side trail that led to the caves, the main trail
was blocked by a fallen tree.
The mostly uphill trek to the parking area took about 15 minutes, including a stop at one of the many picnic tables along the way. Our entire adventure took less than an hour, but it was enough to put the Robert Woodruff Outdoor Learning Center high on our list of places to take grandkids.
Discovery: Rainbow Country
May 21, 2004 , 74 degrees, Partly Sunny 
We parked the Jeep at a streamside parking area about a half-mile south
of Starkville It was 10:45 a.m. As Denny and I yanked on hip boots, a hoard
of mosquitoes welcomed us to the area. A drop of two of DEET applied to
heads and hands kept them at bay.
run a mile south of Starkville.
Otsquago Creek in this area reminded me of Steele
Creek in many ways: roadside, well-shaded, rock-bottomed, lots of
runs, riffles & rapids and widely dispersed pools. Rainbow water.
Rainbows will hold in fast water, but in this section the algae was so
thick on the rock bottom that we couldn't work a lure through without picking
up a gob of green slime. It didn't take long to realize we had to find
deep runs and pools to catch fish, but we didn't want to wade a couple
miles of stream to do it.
So, for an hour and a half we drove south
on Route 80, parking where the stream looked good, fishing runs and pools,
and moving on to the next parking area. We caught several small rainbows
on gold spoons.
What impressed me the most about this roadside creek
was its cleanliness. There was very little litter unlike similar stretches
of Steele, Fulmer and Moyer creeks.
Around
noon I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to show Denny the falls and
pools Gert and I had discovered the day before. Denny hooked a good fish
in the pool at the bottom of Sawmill Falls but it wrapped the line around
a stickup and pulled free. Two anglers were dunking worms in the pool at
the bottom of Creamery Falls, so we hiked back to the car.
Sawmill Falls, but it wrapped the line
around a stickup and pulled free.
Before heading home, we drove to the Van Hornesville Fish Hatchery just to see what thousands of rainbow trout looked like. We weren't disappointed. Stocking-size, 9-10-inch rainbows filled three big concrete ponds, and some huge breeders slowly circled in a small pond right next to the parking area.
Rainbow Country indeed.
