Deer River State Forest, Martin Road - Part 1

It was too nice a day, slipped in between days of rain, for me to stay home. So I took the dogs back to Deer River State Forest, a place I'd recently discovered and only been to once. This time I took Martin Road and, when I saw a dirt lane heading off into the forest, parked the car and let the dogs out:

The sandy lane was easy walking and I could have driven it easily - but we were supposed to be walking, not driving. The forest was lovely, alternating between light and dark, young and mature, hardwood and conifer. The dogs didn't care. They just wanted to run:

I had to keep hollering at the dogs to bring them back, but they're so used to my loud voice that they are not phased by it. Their feelings aren't hurt, it's all just part of the fun:

I began to see occasional road signs, indicating to me that these were not hiking trails, but access roads - and there were many of them, requiring me to make a choice at each intersection (and try to keep in mind the way to return to the car when we were done):

I never saw a single wildflower, but I saw lots of leaves where there had been flowers earlier. These twin leaves in the mossy carpet were Pink Ladyslippers:

The forest was dark, interspersed with bright sunlight where there were holes in the canopy:

And it was cool and quiet, with Ovenbirds singing all around. Notice the road sign up on the right, a squiggly arrow indicating a winding section of road just ahead:

Look at the expression on Fergus' face. He looks like he was just about to pee but saw me with my camera and was saying, "Can't a fella have some privacy around here?"

The forest floor was mostly open and easy to walk, so we did some exploring. I found a section with several kinds of club mosses, such as this Fan Club Moss:

And Tree Club Moss, or Princess Pine:

This one was more difficult to identify, but I think it was Running Club Moss:

Trillium, with its flower long gone and beginning to develop fruit at its top. But there was much more to see here, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Spring Flora White Hill Wild Forest - Part 1

I took the dogs to the White Hill Wild Forest and walked around Clear Pond one day, but took so many photos that I separated them into dog pictures and plant pictures. These are the latter, and the first photo is of Leatherleaf in bloom along the shoreline of Clear Pond:

 There didn't seem to be many flowers blooming, but the Red Maple leaves unfurling sparkled in the sun and were as pretty as any flower:

  Violets are hard to identify but I guessed that these  were Northern White Violets. They were very tiny:

 An unknown Moss. I searched Google for an ID, but finally gave up:

 Wild Strawberries, of course. They were blooming everywhere:

 Blue Flag, our Wild Iris:

 Tree Club Moss, or Princess Pine:

Viburnum lantanoides, or Hobblebush. I included the Latin name because I found the plant so difficult to find online and it wasn't in my wildflower field guide:

 A closeup of Viburnum lantanoides or Hobblebush:

 Painted Trillium:

 Pillow Moss:

 Running Club Moss, sometimes called Running Ground Pine. But there was more to see, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Stopping By The Deer River Flow, Part 1

I drove home from our aborted Jenkins Mountain hike and found both Winky and Wally asleep in the farm apartment, apparently unaware that we'd even even been gone. But I let all the dogs out into their fenced yard and began settling in for the night. The next morning we all left for home by way of the Port Kent Hopkinton Turnpike, that series of small Adirondack roads which was once upon a time a major means of transporting goods from Lake Champlain to the north country. I stopped when I saw this familiar sign for the Deer River Flow:

I pulled off the road onto a narrow dirt lane through the forest with the Deer River Flow on one side. It was a marvelous place to let the dogs out:

We walked away from the car investigating. Winky, as is his custom, lagged behind and needed to be urged forward:

Running Clubmoss grew all over the ground - or at least where it could find spaces between the fallen tree limbs:

And then we walked down to the Deer River Flow. It was peaceful and beautiful:

Seamus got his feet wet but apparently that was enough for him on that damp day:

There was evidence of a lot of beaver activity, not at all surprising I suppose:

I could see out over the flooded fields of the Deer River Flow to conifer forests not far beyond:

It was raining lightly that day and the trees gave us some protection as the dogs and I investigated the forest:

We walked the dirt lane for a bit and then all got back into the car to continue our drive home:

Part 1 - St. Regis River Canoe Carry From Blue Mountain Road

I was up at the farm on Easter Sunday and awake early, ready for something deeply spiritual. I therefore drove myself and the four youngest dogs down to Blue Mountain Road to do some walking in the beautiful Santa Clara Tract just north of Paul Smiths and south of my farm. I was toying with the idea of hiking up St. Regis Mountain but my legs were feeling a bit weak, so I stopped first at the canoe carry from Blue Mountain Road to the St. Regis River. There was no other car on the entire road, much less using the trail. We hopped out and started down the path:

The forest was rife with Balsam Firs and the ground was carpeted with Reindeer Lichen and mosses of many sorts. It was spectacular:

 I passed by a lovely pond to our left but didn't see any access trail so kept on walking toward the St. Regis River:

Rounding a small bend, I inched a bit closer to snap a better photo of this unnamed pond:

But the dogs seemed to know that our destination was directly ahead. I suppose they can see the trail as well as I can and have noses which can detect which way other people have walked before:

I passed many nice examples of Running Clubmoss:

And on through the Adirondack forest:

We emerged into a clearing which, I'd read, used to be the site of a sportsman's club of some sort. It was beautiful and the St. Regis River lay just ahead:

Off to the left the St. Regis looked calm and wide, more like a pond than a river:

There was one fire pit, evidence that it'd be OK to camp here some day. I might do that myself some evening when the weather is warm and the bugs are not too bad:

I walked closer to the southern view of the river and wondered if that might be St. Regis Mountain rising up on the horizon:

Then we walked right up to the northern stretch which was calm and not at all wide. Seamus considered a fine place to wade right in, get himself wet and have a cool drink of the water. The other dogs liked the drink of water part but didn't want anything but their toes wet. I'll post more tomorrow:

Balsams, Mosses And Ferns Along Quebec Brook

As the dogs and I hiked the Quebec Brook trail, we made frequent exploratory side trips down to the riverbank whenever it looked easily accessible. The reward each time was an ever changing scene of great beauty:

A few access points were marked as canoe carries, though this one looked to me like a very difficult place to maneuver a canoe, either in or out of the water. But for our purposes, it was ideal:

The trail itself continued to follow the brook. It was still thickly carpeted with a variety of mosses and bordered with Mountain Alders and Balsam Firs:

A new type of mushroom in a bed of mosses:

The trail began to narrow and the forest began to intrude, its walls drawing in closer on each side as we hiked:

A Balsam branch hovered over the mossy carpet. I believed that the reddish moss was sphagnum, though I was not sure:

I saw occasional branching plants which I believed were Clubmoss. They were larger than the two species with which I was already familiar and fascinating. I've since searched for an identification and believe these were Running Clubmoss, Lycopodium clavatum, listed as a common resident of Boreal forests.  As always, feel free to correct me if I am wrong:

The trail got rockier, and in many places I could see that its foundation was a thick layer of rounded rocks, each about a foot in diameter. I learned that I had to watch for holes which could seriously damage an ankle if I was not watchful:

Recent frosts had turned almost all of the ferns brown. I at first found this odd because I so often find green ferns nestled in the snow on winter hikes. But I suppose it's simply a matter of different species:

Another glimpse of the constantly changing Quebec Brook:

Fergus likes to keep a watchful eye on me and returns to be sure I'm still with the group as we hike. Once satisfied, he again runs ahead with the Papillons. This was becoming one of my favorite hikes ever. But I'll post more tomorrow: