Quebec Brook In June, Part 3

The dogs and I reached what appeared to be the end of the trail. It didn't feel to me as if we'd gone 2.5 miles, but then it had been a straight, level and easy to walk trail. I searched for any continuation of the trail but could find none. The deer flies were becoming bothersome at that point, so it was time to turn back toward the trail head. We again passed by the marked portage with the log bridge:

And along the moss carpeted sections beneath the Balsam Firs:

I stopped to take a few photos of the extraordinarily lovely Quebec Brook and the dogs had a drink of water:

We all explored the riverbank and by this time everyone was wet except me. I too became wet when one foot slipped into the water and the dog leashes around my neck prevented my other foot from pushing me out of the water. It was a dilemma which wound up getting both of my feet quite wet. But it was becoming hot and actually felt good:

I tried to take some nice photos of the wild beauty but it was becoming increasingly difficult because of the deer flies. I held up the camera to snap a shot and at least ten deer flies were boring into my hand before I could snap the shutter. I tried to take a couple of videos but couldn't hold the camera still:

Clearly it was time to get back on the trail and head toward the car:

There would be no more leisurely stops along Quebec Brook. The deer flies were driving us forward, though they seemed to be concentrating on me and leaving the dogs alone:

I was endeavoring to appreciate the beauty all around me while I kept increasing my speed as the deer flies attacked with ever growing vigor. I called the dogs over to "heel" when we passed the spot where the Snapping Turtle had been:

Almost to the trail head. I made a mental note to return in the autumn when the deer flies would be gone:

We arrived at the trail head, a remote spot on the remote Blue Mountain Road. I fought the deer flies as I signed out, again noticing that no one else had hiked here in two weeks and there'd been very few hiking this year at all:

We all hopped back into the car, keeping the windows closed as ravenous deer flies buzzed angrily against the glass. I turned on the air conditioning:

On the way out along Blue Mountain Road, I stopped to photograph these lovely Wild Roses:

Quebec Brook In June, Part 2

I was hiking the wild and beautiful Quebec Brook Trail with my four younger dogs early on a Monday morning before the deer flies became too active. And it was indeed spectacular, pretty darn close to a wilderness experience:

Seamus had a brush with heat stroke two weeks earlier on another hike and I wanted to be extra careful. This hike was level, shaded and next to water at all times. Seamus was a very happy boy, and getting good exercise to help with his diet:

A very wet but happy Daphne smiled at me as I snapped a photo of her standing among the Bunchberry flowers:

This single piece of old trash was probably a leftover from the former railroad days, a remnant of the early 1900s when this path through the northern wilderness was built to facilitate hauling timber and minerals to market. At this point it was almost covered over by mosses and slowing disappearing into the landscape:

Starflower bloomed happily in beds of emerald moss:

We walked the peaceful trail on soft carpets of moss with the heavy, sweet scent of Balsam filling the air:

This trail was not marked, and so little used that in places it was difficult to find. But at several spots there were canoe portages for canoeists on Quebec Brook. These portages had markings and this one even had a sort of log bridge over a boggy spot:

We walked down to the grassy shore of Quebec Brook to explore:

A beginning beaver dam had been constructed but was not yet holding back any water:

Walking along this shoreline was tricky as the tall grass hid the holes and rocks and other surprises to one's footing. But that, of course, was part of the fun:

By this time all the dogs were plenty wet, not just Seamus:

Clover is so little and delicate that it amazes me to watch her exploring the wild country with her big buddy, Seamus. She is no shrinking violet. The day was heating up and the deer flies were beginning to buzz around us at this point. But I'll post more tomorrow: