Floodwood Loop Trail, From Little Pollywog Pond To The Pollywog Pond Extension

We had made our way from Middle Pond to Pollywog Pond to Little Pollywog Pond and were on our way back toward the trail head:

The forest was scenic and fragrant, the dogs happy and playful. We never saw or heard another person, either in the forest or on the lakes:

We continued back the way we'd come. In this photo, we were crossing a small peat bog:

The forest was lovely, reminding me of the fairy tale Black Forest pictures of my childhood:

Daphne kept an eye out for big bad wolves, ogres and the like:

The moss covered sides of the trail lent a soft aura of comfortable mystery to the hike:

We took a detour when we reached the canoe carry trail, however. This canoe carry was a portage between Middle Pond and Pollywog Pond:

And this was the destination we sought. It was Pollywog Pond again, but a distinct "lobe" of it, almost a separate lake:

This quiet section of Pollywog Pond was quiet and wild, and the dogs did some exploring out on that peninsula. I didn't follow them because I was sure I'd sink down in:

And then we began returning to the main loop trail. I noticed that the canoe carry was broader, wider and easier walking than the regular hiking trail. But of course that made sense because those using it would likely be carrying their heavy canoes:

The dogs began to slow down, even the "Silly Sisters," Daphne and Clover:

The forest turned from mostly coniferous to mostly hardwood as we neared the trail head:

All in all, it was a spectacular hike, and one to which I hoped to return - especially since there remains so much of it we never got to see:

Quebec Brook River Scenes And Forest Scenes

We came to an old stump with a "head of hair" composed of lichens. It appeared, in this magical setting, as an old, white haired man of the forest. In actuality, this tree was likely cut down many decades ago when this was a railroad bed:

We were on our way back to the trail head, but I wasn't going to let that detract from my full appreciation of the magnificent Boreal forest. Indeed, there were many things I hadn't noticed my first time through:

Another gnarled old stump sprouting fungi. This one sure had lots of personality:

I found some very old logs leading to the shoreline of Quebec Brook and designated as a canoe carry. Of course we took the opportunity to explore the water's edge once again:

The "Silly Sisters" bounced and played on the rocks:

Seamus, of course, went in the water and then came out to drip dry and survey the wilderness:

And what great beauty there was to survey:

Quebec Brook is, according to what I've read, a beloved wilderness canoe route. But it looked to me like a very difficult waterway for any canoe or kayak. I believed that I'd chosen the better way to explore - with my feet:

Serene, wild beauty:

There wasn't much in the way of bird songs this late in the season, though I believe I remember Blue Jays and Ravens making some noise:

We resumed our journey on the trail. And yes, that is the trail. It wasn't all easy trekking and well defined. But we weren't yet back to the trail head. I'll post more tomorrow: