Chapter 4 - Discovering Floodwood Mountain

We'd enjoyed the scenic summit of Floodwood Mountain and were on our way back down to the trail head. The dogs stopped at every brook for a drink of cold water:

The trail was reinforced with White Birch logs for a spell, making for a dry and attractive walkway:

There were huge rocks providing walkways across each brook. I wondered if these were man made or naturally occurring but concluded that only very large equipment could have moved them into place - and there was no evidence of large equipment along that narrow path through the forest. Apparently they were just found like that when the trail was made:

We reached the sign at the bottom of the mountain which left only a short stretch of dirt road to take us back to our parked car:

And the scenery along the road was superb. These Pearly Everlastings were abundant and lovely. I imagined that many a pioneer family had dried them for a touch of beauty which lasted all winter long:

The dirt lane meandered through woods and fields:

We stopped at a small pond so the dogs could have another drink of water, but they'd already had their fill:

Happy, happy dogs in a spectacular natural setting:

Goldenrod was blooming along the road and, mixed with the blue Gentians, made a colorful display:

And this White Admiral butterfly was enjoying the ferns, flowers and sunshine. It seemed to be accompanying us along the way:

Here's a close-up of its wondrously colored wings:

But all good things must come to an end. We reached the car and the dogs jumped back inside. But I had to take one more photo as I stood there enjoying the aroma of pines and balsams. And then we continued on our way:

Chapter 1 - Discovering Floodwood Mountain

I'd left the farm early on Monday morning so that we'd be hiking Floodwood Mountain before the day became too hot. And what a glorious day it was! I wasn't sure what kind of view we'd find, but this promised to be a seldom hiked, fairly easy hike with at least a little bit of view. I located the parking area and we began our hike:

All along the beginning of the trail were stunning blue flowers which I knew were Gentians. But which species? I finally decided that they were Closed Gentian, often called Bottle Gentian for obvious reasons:

They grew in great profusion along with Lowbush Blueberries. Alas, the blueberries had all been eaten. Besides wishing I could have snacked on some, they would have made an even more striking picture with the additional shades of blue:

The trail followed an old wood road for a short while and then turned up into the forest:

The dogs, of course, were ecstatic. There is nothing they love more than a romp in the woods:

I'd put bandannas on both Seamus and Fergus to help them look friendlier and more visible. Seamus is so huge that any hikers he encounters are to be forgiven for a momentary terror as he runs toward them. Fergus sometimes barks, though I have made much progress curing him of that. I've put bandannas on Seamus ever since a hunter advised me that he looks much like a black bear in the forest, but it was a new addition for Fergus:

Daphne climbed atop a glacial erratic while Seamus and Clover waited down below on the trail:

The dogs stopped at every brook for a drink of cool, aerated water - and ever since our adventure at Debar Pond, Daphne has bounced, splashed and played in most every body of water she's found. That's what she's doing here in the brook (you can just see her behind the leaves over Seamus' shoulder):

I was beginning to see mushrooms, a trend I hope will continue and increase as we move into autumn:

This mossy rock surrounded by ferns grabbed my attention and admiration as a thing of such exquisite beauty that I had to snap a photo. I don't believe any human landscaper or artist could create anything nearly so lovely:

Then the trail turned sharply uphill and I began to realize what an old codger I have become. And this was supposed to be one of the easiest trails available. Well, there was nothing for it but to keep slogging slowly uphill while the dogs waited for me to catch up. They seemed to be wondering what was my problem:

Up, up, up and up some more. I concluded that I can no longer convince myself that I am young, But this hike was just getting started. I'll post more tomorrow about Floodwood Mountain: