West Canada Creek - South Branch of The West Canada Creek

South Branch of The West Canada Creek

The south branch gets its start at T-lake, northwest of Piseco Lake. It travels southwest, through the town of Morehouse, and joins the main branch of the West Canada at Nobleboro. North of Rt 8 on Mountain Home Road is a man made lake called The Floe on the maps, but to the locals it is called Mountain Home Pond.

Read more about this topic:  West Canada Creek

Famous quotes containing the words south, branch, west, canada and/or creek:

    ...I always said if I lived to get grown and had a chance, I was going to try to get something for my mother and I was going to do something for the black man of the South if it would cost my life; I was determined to see that things were changed.
    Fannie Lou Hamer (1917–1977)

    In communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of activity but each can become accomplished in any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner, just as I have a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, shepherd or critic.
    Karl Marx (1818–1883)

    The West of which I speak is but another name for the Wild; and what I have been preparing to say is, that in Wildness is the preservation of the World.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    I fear that I have not got much to say about Canada, not having seen much; what I got by going to Canada was a cold.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    It might be seen by what tenure men held the earth. The smallest stream is mediterranean sea, a smaller ocean creek within the land, where men may steer by their farm bounds and cottage lights. For my own part, but for the geographers, I should hardly have known how large a portion of our globe is water, my life has chiefly passed within so deep a cove. Yet I have sometimes ventured as far as to the mouth of my Snug Harbor.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)