Big, Beautiful Bloomingdale Bog Trail - Part 3

My damaged ankles had begun to hurt and I was just about to turn around and return to the trail head when Daphne discovered this old railroad car off in the forest on its side. I examined it and it looked to me like an old passenger car. It even had the remnants of seats inside. That old sofa might have indicated that the railroad car was used as a hunting camp for some time after the railroad abandoned the line. I could only guess at the history:

But at that point we did turn around and begin our journey back to our parked car:

I thought those waxy, white blossoms were blueberries and knelt down to get a photo. Madeline and Clover got smack dab in the way of a good photo, but it turned out to be a blessing. I ended up with a poor photo of the flowers (which weren't blueberries) and a good photo of the dogs:

And there was plenty of Usnea, or Tree Moss (actually, it's a lichen):

The dogs seemed to have understood my insistence that they stay closer to me and were doing quite well. Of course I'll probably have to repeat the lesson again and again on future hikes:

Every so often they'd break into a run and I'd yell, "Stop!" Then I'd call them back and give them both petting and praise. They were having a great time and I was enjoying their company - and also the scenery:

I don't know what our altitude was there, but given the lateness of springtime to the forest, I'd guess we were already pretty high up in the mountains:

Seamus and Daphne made a few more excursions into the water, Seamus to get a drink and Daphne to frolic. That's what she was doing when I snapped this photo, running back and forth between the water and the shore:

And then we marched onward. I was truly liking keeping the dogs close at hand:

We met a bird watcher and, having seen him coming from far off, I had the dogs on leashes when we met. Once past, I gave them their freedom again:

When we reached the pond near the trail head, I reflected on the spectacular beauty all around me and the pleasant company of my dogs:

Madeline toddled down to the water's edge for a drink and then I put them all back on their leashes to finish the hike back to our car. After that, I just had to finish the long drive home - and I did so without taking any more pictures:

Big, Beautiful Bloomingdale Bog Trail - Part 2

With no one else on the trail, the dogs were allowed off leash. But I insisted they stay close to me and not run too far ahead. They were beginning to get the idea and everyone was having fun:

We stopped every so often to explore one of the brooks which gurgled and burbled their way along the path:

The scenery was magnificent, the air scented with balsam:

And I was happy, though that coat had to come off very early in the hike:

The trail took us through forests and wetlands:

The dogs were fascinated by the water, but so far had kept their feet dry:

We continued along, stopping every so often for a closer examination of the northern scenery:

And then, right near an old beaver dam, both Daphne and Seamus went into the water. Clover and Fergus were tempted, but resisted. Madeline refused to even get near the water:

And then we continued onward:

Now that her feet were wet and muddy, Daphne had become bolder and frolicked in the muddy waters, leaping and smiling, like a colt in a pasture:

The day was lovely:

My ankles were becoming quite sore and I wondered if perhaps a flat trail was harder on them than a winding, hilly, rocky trail. Or was it that, being so flat and straight, we'd traveled farther than I'd realized? At any rate, I decided we'd better not go too much farther. But I'll post Part 3 tomorrow:

Big, Beautiful Bloomingdale Bog Trail - Part 1

It was time once again to return to Albany from a stay at the farm, though I knew this would be one of my final trips and soon I'd be permanently moved. I left early because I'd planned to stop on the way home and try out the Bloomingdale Bog Trail whose main trail head is just north of Saranac Lake:

I met a nice man at the trail head who told me there was a woman with a leashed Golden Retriever on the trail, but she was almost back to the parking area and no one else was on the trail. So I leashed my dogs and started out, marveling at the beauty all around me:

The Shadbush was in bloom then, weeks behind the farm and perhaps a month behind Albany. But this is the Adirondacks, after all. Nevertheless, who could argue with such beauty?:

We passed by the woman and her Golden Retriever. She looked horrified to see my pack of (leashed) dogs. Once we had the trail to ourselves, I let my dogs run off leash but began buckling down on teaching them to stay close, perhaps within 15 feet. I had decided that they would either obey that rule or stay home when the rest of us hiked. I had to get cross, but they seemed to pick up the concept:

And still they had fun. This was a doggy (and human) paradise:

Whenever one or two of them got too far away, I'd shout "Stop!" and, when they did, I called them back to me for petting and praise:

There were burbling creeks to explore:

And what fun it was to climb down to the water!:

I had to keep up a constant dialog, but the pooches were beginning to grasp my new rule. And the trail was long, level and straight - apparently a former railroad bed. So I could see far ahead and far behind, enabling me to leash the dogs if someone was coming:

There were patches of balsams and several unusually large ones had fallen, filling the air with their aroma. For the dogs, it was all play time:

See, Dad. I'm not running ahead now! Am I a good dog?:

This was easy walking and spectacular scenery. But we were just getting started. I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

The Bloomingdale Bog Trail, Part 2

We arrived at a small bridge over a boggy creek. I believe I read somewhere that this was Twobridge Creek, but now can't find the reference. We crossed over, but I decided that we should then turn around and return to the car:

The creek ran through flat lands, but there were mountains on the horizon:

 Madeline sniffed around, hoping to find something interesting. As for me, I decided that this was Bloomingdale Bog spread out before me:

And then we began our return trip:

We passed back through the forest:

And little Clover stopped to watch me:

Seamus lumbered joyfully along. He's the size of a small pony and has such thick fur that he loves these winter hikes. He never gets cold, though he does sometimes have trouble with snow packing up his paws:

Someone had lost a mitten and the finder had propped it on a stick. It was a sort of happy, goofy spot of color along the way, and anyone with a cold hand could take it and use it:

We'd traveled farther than I'd realized. Such easy, level walking is wonderful for covering a lot of ground:

I stopped to snap another photo and little Madeline sat down and watched me intently. She seems to find me fascinating:

We returned to the car and everyone jumped up inside. Wally and Winky were snoozing and didn't miss us at all:

I pulled away from the trail head, but instead of driving back toward the highway the way we cane, I turned toward the little hamlet of Bloomingdale. But I'll post about that tomorrow:

The Bloomingdale Bog Trail, Part 1

I'd just arrived at the farm on a Sunday morning, but a major winter storm was predicted for Monday night, so I loaded the dogs up into the car and headed home to Albany before it hit. But I had a plan. I'd be passing near one of the trail heads for the Bloomingdale Bog Trail, a place I wanted to investigate. So when I arrived there, I parked and let the dogs out for a rest stop:

The skies were lovely, the air reasonably warm considering the snow on the ground and the predicted winter storm. The dogs were ecstatic and ran wildly up and down the trail, sniffing everything:

We'd barely begun when the dogs discovered some thoroughly wonderful smell and collected into a small cluster to investigate it:

Old Winky was having some trouble walking, and toddled along slowly. He seemed to be forgetting where he was and what he was doing. I had to watch him carefully:

Old Wally did a little better, but it became clear to me that we'd never get to see more than fifty feet of the trail with the two oldsters along - and I might wind up carrying them both back to the car at that. So I coaxed them back to the car and got them comfortable in the back:

With the older dogs snoozing in the car, the youngsters were free to run. You can see Fergus' ears flopping joyously as he flies along the trail:

Even tubby ol' Seamus ran and frolicked:


It was all great fun for the dogs and level for my injured tendons. We were all happy:

We couldn't go far, but the walking was easy and the day couldn't have been more beautiful. We were making good time and covering a lot of ground:

So far we'd seen only forests but no bog. I believed the bog to be in a different part of the trail, but I hoped we might see some here also:

If a tree falls in the woods, will Madeline, Fergus and Seamus find it fascinating? Apparently so:

A sign along the trail advised us that there was a bridge ahead. But I'll post about that tomorrow: