Santamont Trail In Catherineville State Forest - Part 1

Our belatedly warm spring took a nosedive. Nighttime temperatures fell to near freezing, daytime temperatures never got out of the forties. It was cold, cloudy and windy. I wasn't in the mood to do much of anything, but I did take the dogs hiking. Catherineville (sometimes spelled "Catherinesville") State Forest is only 8 miles south of my house and we've been there before, but I never found any really good trails. This time I found the main trail, but only after mistakenly trying two incorrect trails:

This trail could have supported auto traffic and probably does so at times. But it was comfortable walking and the dogs were ecstatic:

This was cold, rocky country and spring was even more delayed here than at my house. Nevertheless, I did find Wild Strawberries in bloom:

And ferny fiddleheads unfurling:

We began in a hardwood forest with few leaves yet on the trees:

And progressed into a pine forest:

I kept seeing smallish, white Trilliums and wondered why the flowers were so small. Then I remembered that Painted Trilliums (white, with a red center) are nearly always smaller flowers than their purely white or red cousins:

Normally, both Papillons run up any rock such as this but they didn't this time. I wanted a photo, so I tried to coax them. Finally, I simply lifted Daphne up onto this glacial erratic with its "hair" of moss and baby trees. She wasn't sure she liked it, as you can read by the expression on her face:

There were lots of green plants on the ground as wildflowers were just emerging and the Princess Pines (clubmoss) were standing at full height:

A Princess Pine and a Painted Trillium, abundant plants which beautified our hike nearly everywhere we went:

Clover, Daphne and Jack left the trail to explore a rocky, mossy, trickling streamlet:

And Beech tree buds were beginning to open. I knew it wouldn't be long until the hardwood trees were clothed in green leaves. But there was a lot more to see on this trail, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Chapter 2 - Southville State Forest

I'd taken the dogs hiking in the Southville State Forest, not too far from the farm. We'd hiked downhill until we reached the St. Regis River. Seamus knew exactly what to do with that river:

And he seemed to enjoy gazing at the scenery also:

My sister called my cell phone (who knew one could take a phone call in such a remote, wild location?) and I sat on a rock at the water's edge, holding the phone in my left hand and snapping photos with my right:

Clover and Madeline explored the shoreline:

Who, me? I'm not going into that water!:

False Hellebore, Veratrum viride, was springing up all along the edge of the water:

And fiddleheads, of course - thousands upon thousands of them:

We began walking back upstream:

Seamus led the way while the other dogs sniffed here, there and everywhere:

I was at the back of the pack, stepping carefully to protect my injured ankles:

But all in all, it was a gloriously spectacular day at a wonderful, beautiful, natural spot:

When we arrived back at the lane which we'd walked to get to the river, Madeline decided to go down to the river one last time. I thought for a second she might consider getting her feet wet, but apparently the very thought of it was too much and she scurried back uphill to get away from it. But we had more hiking yet to do, and I'll post about that tomorrow:

A Bubbling, Gurgling Adirondack Brook

I was once again driving north through the Adirondack Mountains with all six dogs on my way to the farm. This time I planned to stay for two nights instead of one and really get some work done. On a whim, I turned off the highway at Exit 26 and headed up through the towns of Pottersille, Olmsteadville and Minerva to scenic State Route 28N. When I saw a place to pull off the road, I did so:

I saw no other cars passing by, but my car was well off the road if any traffic should appear. So I let all the dogs out of the car and we trooped down an embankment into the forest. There we discovered a burbling brook flowing through the mosses, ferns and balsam firs. Wally was reluctant, but finally crossed the water:

Fergus, being young and athletic, was bold and adventurous, running ahead and then looking back to encourage us to hurry and catch up to him:

Little Clover, fast as a rabbit and fearless as a wolf, boldly explored on her own, glancing back now and then to make sure the rest of us hadn't turned off in some other direction:

Seamus, Daphne and Wally explored calmly, mostly staying with me:

Winky, however, is old, slow and exceedingly stubborn. Encouraging him to keep up with us was a constant necessity:

The three youngsters, with all their excess energy, ran and jumped and explored every smell and hidey-hole:

My most vivid memory is the smell of the mosses which brought back to mind happy days in my youth exploring the Douglas Fir forests of western Oregon. Fern fiddleheads were growing everywhere:

The two Papillon puppies were not hesitant to jump across the water. Seamus just waded right through it. But old Wally was unsure of himself and needed much encouragement:

But this was only a rest stop and we had many miles yet to go. So I collected the dogs and called them back toward the car:

Once all the dogs were loaded up in the car, I was ready to resume my journey. I took a couple of videos of the dogs exploring that little brook which I'll post tomorrow: