Part 3, Hiking Mount Arab

I was atop the fire tower of Mount Arab and enjoying the scenic views. But I also stopped to point my camera down to where my four dogs were tied, waiting impatiently for me to return to them:

It felt as if I was witnessing a miracle as I watched the clouds slowly break up and glide away, revealing the stunning Adirondack forests, mountains, lakes and rivers below:

I began to get some more long range views:

I didn't know what that lake was, but I later came to suspect that it was a place where the Raquette River had been dammed:

The surrounding hills became clearer as the clouds continued to move away:

OK, I suppose I am being silly, but did you see the "face" in the above photo? If not, here it is with a circle around it just for fun:

The miracle of the lifting clouds continued, revealing more of the surrounding landscape:

And I watched as the clouds drifted and rolled off to some other part of the Adirondacks:

The surrounding hills were not very high by Adirondack standards. That, I supposed, was why Mount Arab had been such an ideal spot for a fire tower:

I snapped one last photo over the top of the caretaker's cabin before I began climbing back down to the ground:

And four anxious dogs were very happy to see me:

We began our return hike to the trail head in the shadow of the fire tower, past the caretaker's cabin and back to our parked car. We passed several groups of hikers on their way up the mountain as we were descending. By then it was raining again so I didn't mention that I'd been privileged to witness a spectacular parting of the clouds:

Part 2, Hiking Mount Arab

We continued our way up Mount Arab. The trail was well maintained and not at all difficult, but was rather unrelentingly uphill. That's something an old geezer like me notices:

The dogs were very happy in spite of the rain, or perhaps the rain was helping keep them cool and free of deer fly attack:

We all stopped at the base of a rocky cliff covered with vegetation:

Wild Blackberries were in full bloom - in fact, they were past their flowering prime and many were beginning to become berries already:

I was especially taken by this venerable old Yellow Birch. I later read that some of these are 120 years old or more. They had been spared from cutting in the heyday of logging because Yellow Birch wasn't worth much then. If one wanted to commune with the trees, this friendly, wise old fellow would be a good place to begin:

The rain became heavier as we neared the summit and I realized that I wasn't going to see much in the way of scenic overlooks:

I knew we were almost there by the rock formations and the miniaturized trees:

And indeed I was right. Seamus led the way as we broke out of the forest and saw the fire tower and caretaker's cabin directly ahead of us:

The fire tower was built on a rocky outcropping and the dogs ran ahead to check it out. It was built, I later read, in 1918:

I tied the dogs to the base of the tower and climbed to the top. But all I could see was a solid wall of whitish-gray fog. I was disappointed, but then reminded myself that I'd known it was raining and cloudy when I'd begun the hike. It would be ridiculous to expect God to part the clouds for my benefit. I'd just have to give up the idea of taking photos. Just then, the clouds began to lift and part, revealing a hint of the spectacular Adirondack landscape below:

I kept shooting pictures in all directions as the clouds continued to roll off and away. This shot was of the moving cloud bank as it moved past the caretaker's cabin. You can see the trail we arrived on just to the right of the cabin. I stayed up in the top of the fire tower to take photos of the landscape as the clouds cleared, but I'll post more about that tomorrow:

Part 1, Hiking Mount Arab

Having taken a driving tour of the tiny hamlet of Conifer, New York, I returned the couple of miles to Mount Arab Road and headed toward the trail head:

It continued raining off and on (mostly on), but I knew the light rain would keep us cool and help prevent the onslaught of ravenously vicious deer flies. Besides, I figured Seamus would be safe from another bout of heat stroke in such cool, damp, cloudy weather. The branches overhead helped shield us from getting too overly wet - for a while, at least:

The trail was rather smooth and took us steadily uphill. The ground was so dry that the rain was soaking in quickly:

But of course we all eventually became wet, starting with long-haired little Clover who soon began looking a bit like a drowned, spotted rat. Never mind, we were all having a marvelous time:

We continued up and up and up. The trail was short, only one mile to the top, and the grade wasn't precariously steep. It was, however, unrelenting:

I heard Wood Thrushes singing in the rain and thought how they seem to love rainy days. They like to sing at dawn and dusk, so maybe the reduced sunlight of a rainy day inspires them to vocalize: Whenever there was a bit more sun, I heard White-Throated Sparrows singing:

Most of the trail was dry enough under the circumstances, but there were a few wet spots:

Little Clover, AKA the mountain goat, climbed up onto a glacial erratic to check out her surroundings:

And we continued upwards through the rain, surrounded by bird songs:

All of the dogs were being very good. They had fun and did all their doggy investigating, but without running far enough ahead that I had to reprimand them:

I kept grabbing trees for support or just because I love trees - and several times put my hand directly on these rather slimy slugs. They all seemed to be climbing trees because of the rain. Or perhaps this is just a tree climbing species. But we were almost to the summit. I'll post about that tomorrow: