Chapter Two, Debar Pond

This is the a continuation from yesterday's post. We'd hiked in to Debar Pond, enjoyed the water and taken a brief excursion toward its eastern shore. Then I tried to hike along its western shore but became mired in deep mud and fell several times. That's when I turned back. But as we were preparing to return to the car I spotted another trail heading southward down the western shore of Debar Pond and, of course, I just had to go see where it would take us:

This trail was not covered in my guide book so I really felt as if I was exploring unknown territory. We passed through deep forests and ferns of many species, some of them even taller than Seamus:

The trail seemed well worn at first, giving me the idea that it was commonly hiked. But the farther we went, the more overgrown it became:

I eventually came to believe that we were following an old woods road, used either for logging or for someone's private camp many years ago. There were old barrels used as culverts in places, some of them still functioning as intended, some of them nearly rusted away:

The trail offered no views of Debar Pond and took us higher and higher up the mountainside:

I finally stopped when we arrived at the tall, precipitous side of a mountain. No way was I going up there although there might have been spectacular views. We turned back toward where we'd begun:

When we returned to the access point for Debar Pond, I almost didn't let the dogs go in again. But they'd had so much fun the first time that I relented:

And Daphne went in way over her head and actually swam. Fergus soon followed:

Then Daphne began jumping out of the water in great leaps as she circled, reminding me a salmon making its way upstream. She was having more fun than I think I've ever seen a dog have. I wish I had a video of it, but I did get this photo of her in mid-leap:

But eventually I called them out of the water. Seamus resisted momentarily, but soon we were on our way back to the car:

The trail from the water to our car was less than a mile in length, but the scenery was pure wilderness nonetheless:

And I was considering what our next adventure would be that day as we traversed the boardwalk back to the trail head. But I'll post about that tomorrow:

Chapter One, Debar Pond

The dogs and I had driven up to the farm on Sunday. When Monday morning rolled around, I put the four youngest dogs in the car and headed out to a hiking trail shortly after dawn. I wanted to stay cool. I drove down the Port Kent Hopkinton Turnpike as I commonly do on my way home, but then followed the instructions and turned onto an unmarked, tiny dirt lane I'd never even noticed before. About a mile through the forest I saw this sign and parked:

It took me a minute to locate the trail, but it was abundantly clear after I'd found it because it was a series of planks taking us over wetlands. The dogs were thrilled:

We passed over brooks where Joe-Pye Weed grew in abundance:

And continued through wet, boggy forests of White Cedar and other trees, walking about three feet off the ground on the planks:

Clearly there had been a big blow-down in places and I thought how utterly terrifying it would be to find oneself in the woods during such an event:

And on we walked. The planks were covered with chicken wire in places to make them less slippery:

Eventually, though, we left the raised boardwalk behind and continued on the trail as it traversed the forest on solid ground. I passed some of the largest, healthiest patches of Shining Clubmoss I'd ever seen:

And it wasn't long before we arrived at Debar Pond, surrounded by mountains and far, far, far from any roads except that tiny dirt lane. Its beauty was enough to cause me to gasp. The dogs, however, only wanted to play in the water:

And play they did, with even Fergus and Daphne going right in and actually swimming. That was the first time they've ever done that:

I took a side trail off toward the east side of the lake and the dogs came with me. Seamus did also, but at first he was reluctant to leave the water:

We walked just a short way to where someone had a privately owned log cabin. Though there were no signs posted, I didn't want to trespass, so I stopped there and admired the view of the west shore of Debar Pond:

A spectacular, wilderness place to be sure. I thought this was to be the end of our brief hike but it didn't turn out to be so. I'll post more tomorrow:

The Last Leg Of The Journey Northward

The dogs and I had been driving for hours and were getting close to the farm. We had already stopped at the Ausable River and the Hayes Brook Horse Trail. But when I saw this service road leading off into the woods, I had to stop and do some exploring. I'm sure I don't need to explain that all the dogs were ecstatic about my decision:

These were exceedingly sandy soils, quite common in the Adirondacks, and both Seamus and Daphne were enjoying it as an outing. If you click to enlarge the picture, you'll notice the other two youngsters up ahead. The elders, Wally and Winky, were lagging behind:

There appeared to be a gravel pit up ahead and we followed the sandy lane to go check it out:

Alas, Winky is growing noticeably slower and I spend more time keeping an eye on him, urging him onward and, in some cases, giving him an assist. But he's also developing a more mellow personality and showing a great deal of joy:

I got all six dogs loaded up, counted noses two or three times for good measure and we continued on our way toward the farm:

Just south of the tiny town of Santa Clara, I'd noticed on Google Maps a swath of state land along a very wide section of the St. Regis River. Furthermore, it showed a long dirt road following the river and I intended to check it out. I pulled off the highway where it should be and found a boat launch/fishing access spot with an incredible view:

A friendly man and his little boy were fishing. I asked them about the road and was told there was none. So I continued on my way but have since realized that it's probably a barricaded service road and very likely a great hiking trail. Now I plan to go back and check it out again:

The St. Regis River is a breathtaking wild Adirondack waterway, and here where it was wide and placid I found it especially scenic. But after saying goodbye to the fishing duo and snapping a few photos, I continued on to the farm, just a few more miles northward:

The Hike's End, White Hill Wild Forest Part 8

The dogs and I had hiked 3 to 3.5 miles into the White Hill Wild Forest, from Clear Pond to Little Rock Pond to Long Pond and back again. Almost to our car, I was surprised to see a large bank of very tall Mock Orange in bloom which I'd missed going the other direction. These were not wildflowers, but indicated to me that someone had lived here at one time and planted them near their house:

I sneaked back into the woods just a very short distance and, indeed, there was an old stone foundation laid with some very large stones. Oh, how I'd love to know the story of these early settlers, their dreams and tribulations:

We arrived back at the trail head and piled into the car. Even the few fisherman who'd been here earlier were now gone so I decided to drive down the dirt lane to the edge of Clear Pond where they'd been fishing. I was surprised to find a couple of unimproved campsites there, though no one was using them, and access to Clear Pond for putting in canoes. For the dogs, it was just another fun spot to explore:

It was still raining and the skies were dark. Seamus gazed out over the lake in a pensive, thoughtful manner:

Daphne and Fergus got their toes wet hoping to find something edible:

It was a tranquil scene:

And then it was time to drive home. It will come as no surprise to those of you who subscribe to Murphy's Law that the rain, which had been continuous throughout the hike, ceased as we drove away. The skies cleared and we drove home in lovely weather:

The Return Hike, White Hill Wild Forest Part 7

After leaving Little Rock Pond, the dogs and I continued following the trail back to our car at Clear Pond. We passed several sections where very large fallen trees littered the ground like giant matchsticks. Apparently there had been a considerable blow-down in the recent past. These were very large trees with comparatively small root systems, so I suppose it's no surprise that a mighty wind would topple them. Many places in the Adirondacks have shallow soil under which is solid rock:

And I stepped over this friendly little flowering plant, snapping a photo to use for identification when I got home. But I couldn't decide if it's Northern White Violet or Dewdrop. Now that I've seen Saturday's posting from the "Saratoga Woods And Waterways" blog, I'm convinced it was Dewdrop, also known as False Violet, Dalibarda repens:

And more club mosses, a favorite of mine:

We again skirted the northern tip of Little Rock Pond:

Daphne was alert for any signs of trouble:

Both Papillons were still full of energy and undeterred by the soaking rain. They may be small lap dogs, but don't tell them that! In their minds they are miniature Border Collies:

The wetter places were filling in with Sphagnum Moss. What a chain of environment altering events a family of beavers can initiate:

Retracing Our Steps, White Hill Wild Forest Part 6

The dogs and I had hiked into the White Hill Wild Forest from Clear Pond, where we'd parked, and then hiked on to Little Rock Pond and Long Pond. We'd had the entire forest to ourselves and it had been beautiful and awe inspiring in spite of the continuous rain, the Mosquitoes and the Deer Flies. But the time came to turn back toward the trail head, retracing our steps:

I saw many things I'd missed the first time I passed by them. For instance, this shiny Turkey Tail shelf fungus on a mossy log:

When we arrived at the shore of Little Rock Pond, it was simply too inviting to pass by. So the dogs and I pushed through the ferns to make our way to the water's edge:

Poor little Clover was drenched, and without all that fluffy hair it was evident how truly skinny she was. Well, she's certainly healthy and happy, and didn't seem to mind the rain at all:

And Little Rock Pond was serene, lovely, wild and primitive:

We were truly in a natural setting, just the dogs and I, and I found it a wonderful experience:

And right at the water's edge were many Whorled Loosestrife, Lysimachia quadrifolia. I've never seen this plant before but recognized it right away because I'd seen it in someone else's blog. By the way, if you're interested in a spectacular nature blog, I recommend Saratoga Woods And Waterways, http://saratogawoodswaters.blogspot.com/ :

Fergus, Daphne and Clover ambled over to find a beaver to say hello to:

Seamus did his Brontosaurus imitation, a giant wading in the shallow waters:

In spite of the rain it was a fine day and a wonderful hike. So we lingered at Little Rock Pond for quite a while. But then it was time to continue on. I confess that I was beginning to tire. I had, after all, been up since 3:00 and spent 5 hours on the road. It had been a long day. I'll post more tomorrow: