Flowers, Pigeons, Berries, Chickens, Cucumbers

Our rainy summer finally gave way to a mild September, with beauty all around. I was sitting on the riding mower when I snapped this picture of a Wild Cucumber vine in bloom on the trunk of an apple tree:

And I was also on the riding mower when I stopped for a handful of blackberries, growing amid the Lilac bushes:

The pink Rose Mallows bloomed and seemed bigger than ever:

A second white Fantail Pigeon was hatched and growing rapidly:

I cleaned out the chicken and pigeon rooms. I let the chickens outdoors while I was cleaning their room, and they were anxious to go:

Quite soon, however, many of them returned on their own to the safety and comfort to which they were accustomed:

The Elderberries surprised me by producing enough fruit to ripen in spite of the ravenous wild birds. I tasted them again this year and again was not impressed. They weren't bitter like wild grapes, but they weren't particularly flavorful either:

The white Fantail Pigeons enjoyed their newly cleaned floor:

And the new baby began to grow its fantail:

A neighbor stopped by with a gift of four Boothby's Blonde Cucumbers, a heritage variety which she grows every year. I love them!

With Teddy, the rented bull, gone I was free to walk out into the field and spend time with the cows and horses. It was a peaceful scene:

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 7, Windham Mountain

I was hiking up Windham Mountain with my four youngest dogs and getting mighty tired. Every time I figured we were at the summit, I sadly discovered that we were not - and the trail kept getting steeper and my feet kept getting sorer. But the mountainside was now so steep that it was allowing lots of sun through the trees and I snacked on ripe blackberries as I hiked upwards:

Again I thought we must surely have arrived at the summit until I encountered this sign saying we'd only reached 3500 foot elevation. Sigh. I knew the summit was still quite a way above that. By the way, you may have been noticing the blue dots on trees all along the trail. They were, as you can see here, trail markers. Other trails have different colors and there are also specially marked trails for snowmobiles and horses:

And just when I thought I might not make it to the summit, I saw this lovely view off to the south. These are the Blackhead Mountains, three Catskill peaks which are visible all the way to Albany:

The view was breathtaking and I was very happy that I hadn't given up and turned back:

And the view to the north was considerably different, showing a much flatter landscape:

Some smaller mountains were visible to the northwest:

The dogs took a rest on a rock ledge at the summit. The mountain dropped off precipitously just to the left of this ledge:

But the small, sharp rocks on the north slope prevented me from getting comfortable so I went back to the southerly view:

I reclined on a large flat rock where the Blackhead Mountains stretched out before me and the dogs got comfortable in the nearby grass:

But alas, I'd only come half way and still had miles to go to return to the trail head. Well, there was nothing for it but to start hiking downhill, back across the sharp rocks and hard tree roots:

My camera's battery began to falter so I severely limited my picture taking on the way down. We reached the marked trail junction. By this point my feet were very sore and I was walking like a ninety year old man:

St. Regis River Walk, Part 1

On my way up to the farm, I'd stopped at the boat launch in the tiny town of Santa Clara and taken another look at what promised to be a 7 mile trail along the shore of the St. Regis River. A man was parked there just hanging out, so we chatted a bit and then I continued on to the farm. Once I got everything settled at the farm, I came back to the river with the 4 hiking dogs. The man was still there, this time sitting on the ground playing his guitar. My two Papillons immediately tried to jump in his lap and he didn't seem to mind:

So we started off on the trail, which Google Maps shows as a road and the trail maps show as a railroad bed. As far as I could see, it was neither but would make a great hiking trail along the river:

The views of the river were beautiful:

With the clouds reflected in the water, I thought this must be something like the Garden of Eden:

And we set off along the road/trail/former railroad bed:

In spite of the signs forbidding doing so and the gate which tried to prevent access, it was clear that vehicles had been driving on this road. But for me it was an outing on a riverside trail with four happy dogs:

The trail veered far enough away from the river so that I couldn't see it anymore, but it was extraordinarily easy and pleasant walking. I just kept walking and enjoying:

The wild blackberries along the trail were about half ripe:

So of course I ate my fill. Well, we were just getting started, but I'll end here for today and post more tomorrow:

Higher And Higher, Climbing Azure Mountain

The trail up Azure mountain was reportedly only one mile long each way. But yet people spoke of it as if it was quite a strenuous hike. I was on my way up the trail with four of my dogs, all the while thinking it wasn't as steep as reported when it suddenly turned sharply uphill. Both Seamus and I began huffing and puffing but we continued upward:

The trail became so steep that much sunlight penetrated through the trees and there were many Mountain Ash in full fruit lighting up the forest with their flame red color:

And there were many dead trees riddled with Woodpecker holes. I figured that this forest must be rife with wood boring insects and the Woodpeckers who eat them:

And because the sun was penetrating to the forest floor, many raspberries were growing. They too were in full fruit:

And blackberries, though they were not yet ripe:

We climbed higher and higher, scrambling up and over rocks and ledges:

I set my camera on self-timer and just barely managed to get seated when it snapped the photo. I was laughing at the time:

The trail became so steep that I went up in many places on all fours. Seamus was getting seriously winded and we both began taking short rests every 30 feet or so:

The youngsters - Fergus, Daphne and Clover - had so much energy that nothing slowed them down:

We reached a ledge where I could see out through the summer haze to some nearby Adirondack peaks. I stopped for a rest and to snap a picture and then we continued upward. I'll post more tomorrow: