Memories

On this day in...

Black Creek Park 2017:



Buck Mountain LGWF 2013:




Very wet and rainy at home today.

Fires, regeneration and ecological impacts

Quote:

Originally Posted by montcalm (Post 288152) Maybe someone can correct me if I'm wrong here, but just another historical bit of evidence I recall is that Verplanck Colvin burned many summits in the west/central Adirondacks for survey. Most of those summits remain bare today. From this I'd conclude they were absent of fire for more than a couple centuries, maybe millennia, prior to him razing them to have been entirely forested. When I look at the eastern part of the Adirondacks, where we know there have been a number of natural fires in the past century, we see them taking out small mountain tops, and we also see repopulation with red pine and oak, or paper birch. If natives were burning the western parts of the park, that aren't as prone to natural fire, it was a very small scale. Just some food for thought...

Quote:

Originally Posted by DSettahr (Post 288243) This is mainly speculation: I would assume that Colvin's fires were quite probably of a higher heat/intensity than a natural fire typically would be. Since the goal was to create a summit working space with good visibility, I'd also assume that they cut down larger trees prior to starting the fire- so there'd be a lot more slash on the ground to feed the flames. A higher intensity fire would be much more disruptive to the soil ecosystem, which in turn would set things back a lot more in terms of overall successional dynamics.

It sure is speculation, and I didn't add the caveat that people have been walking on those past burned areas, further disturbing them from regeneration of soils through lichens and mosses.


But I think there is some truth to where I was going, and that is what we see in fire scars on mountains in the east. They don't strip the mountains completely, and we do see regeneration of red pine, birch and I would guess small red oaks.

The speculation of fires never seems to end, but it started with the thought of natives burning the forest, which I believe is documented for agriculture, but has really no evidence for managing the forest - although it'd be a good idea, and it seems to get taught a lot.

What would be interesting would be to look at the fires of the 20th century and see how the regeneration has taken place. I'd assume there must be some records from fire observers, and I was thinking of actually trying to find some data.

Anecdotally, I've also noticed quite a unique ecosystem on small, forested mountains in the west. They aren't quite like the rest of the forest often. We see all sorts of stuff actually, from blueberry bushes and scrubby spruce to what I found most interesting, and that is what I'd call glades. I can see the evidence of these kind of things on burned mountains in the east - mainly big tufts of grasses that often retain soils even after fires. But I've also noticed that the tree cover is much thinner and there's more ferns. I've also seen some pretty large white pines perched up on cliffs, so maybe there is no rhyme or reason.

Maybe those glades are evidence of fires? Maybe it's just an environmental response to increased exposure.


I didn't want to drift the hunting thread too far talking about fire, so I started this thread.

heating with wood

It seems NYS may ban heating with wood.https://wyrk.com/heating-with-firewood-in-new-york/

Russian Lake, Upper Gull Lake, and Andy's Creek (Pigeon Lake WA) 7/11 - 7/14/21

Click Here For Full Photo Album

The Pigeon Lake Wilderness is somewhat unique among individual state land units of the Adirondack Park in that it has 4 lean-tos that can only be reached via a combination of a boat ride followed by a hike: Russian Lake, Upper Gull Lake, Andy's Creek, and Lower Sister Lake. That is, apart from a lengthy and complicated bushwhack.

Needless to say, the area has attracted my attention ever since I first laid eyes on a trail map covering this region of the Adirondack Park. I often wondered whether the complexities of accessing each of these lean-tos might in turn lend themselves well to fostering solitude. In 2003, I had the first oppotunity to visit the area when a friend and I spent a single night at Lower Sister Lake, the most remote of these 4 lean-tos by far. We did indeed find it to be a destination with no shortage of solitude, that clearly receives relatively little use.

My slow but steady progression on the lean-to challenge (as well as my desire to see as much of everything the Adirondack Park has to offer as possible) meant that I would inevitably return to camp at each of the remaining three lean-tos in turn. This past summer I finally found the time (and inclination) to make it happen in a single 4 day/3 night trip.

And so a late afternoon this past July saw me loading up my canoe at the Big Moose Lake hand launch at the end of Higby Road. A steady but light rain was falling as I set out across the lake.

I selected Russian Lake as my destination for the first night as it was already late once I'd set out, and that lean-to was the closest. Russian Lake is accessed via a trail that leads east from East Bay of Big Moose, and it didn't take long for me to paddle up the lake, find the dock at the trailhead, and set off on foot. Less than an hour after leaving the Higby Road hand launch, I was arriving at the lean-to as evening gloom settled into the backcountry.

Since it was late and I'd already eaten dinner prior to setting out, I was quick to set up my bug bivy inside the lean-to and turn in for the evening.

The morning dawned with mostly cloudy skies, but hear and there I could see gaps of blue sky between the clouds.

Once I was up and had breakfast in my belly, I took a few minutes to poke around and explore the vicinity of the lean-to. Russian Lake clearly defied my expectations of "little use" somewhat- the lean-to site was well impacted, there were a number of discarded odds and ends lying about, and it's very evidentially a place that is at least occasionally targeted by bigger groups looking for more of a social backcountry experience. I'd surmise this is probably due to this being the most accessible (least remote) of these 4 lean-tos, plus also the only one whose Big Moose Lake shoreline trailhead is readily accessible by motorboat. (Shallow waters on the way to the other two trailheads presumably are quite limiting to those attempting to approach via motorboat.)

In any case, it was still a beautifully situated lean-to on the shore of Russian Lake.

My next destination, the Upper Gull Lake Lean-to, was some fair distance away and I wanted to arrive early so that I could move on elsewhere if it were still occupied, so it wasn't long before I'd packed up, returned to Big Moose Lake, retrieved my canoe from where I'd hidden and locked it in the woods, and set out again across Big Moose.

The other three lean-tos are all accessed via trailheads off of the Inlet area of Big Moose Lake. Here, Andy's Creek and the outlet of Lower Sister Lake combine and flow into a broad, shallow bay that is connected to the main portion of Big Moose via a shallow channel. Motorboat traffic is permitted here, but the shallow waters keep it to a fairly minimal level. As I paddled up into the bay I was already experiencing solitude.

The trailhead for Upper Gull Lake is at the northwest end of the bay. I arrived to find no sign of any canoes stashed in the woods nearby, nor any entries in the register book at the trailhead, so I figured my chances of the lean-to being unoccupied were pretty good- it would be rough to hike the mile and change to get there only to find the lean-to full.

About two-thirds of the way to Upper Gull Lake, the trail crosses the outlet of Lower Gull Lake, where some nice views of that body of water can be found not far off the trail.

I'd heard horror stories bout the trail between Lower and Upper Gull Lakes being overgrown and disappearing into beaver swamps, but when I hiked through I found instead a nice, relatively new re-route that sticks to higher (and drier) ground. I'd been prepared for the worst but it turned out my fears were misplaced.

Just as the first glimpses of Upper Gull Lake were starting to come into view through the trees, I hiked through what appeared to have been the site of an old camp- possibly a lumber camp. A number of discarded metal odds and ends were lying about, including sled runners, barrel hoops, and more.

There was even an old horseshoe lying amidst the junk. So perhaps at least one horse has made the epic journey to Upper Gull Lake?

Not far beyond the site of the old camp was the lean-to, beautifully situated on the south shore of Upper Gull Lake.

After settling in and setting up camp, I cracked open the lean-to log book. I knew I'd picked a little used lean-to when I saw the date of the very first entry in the book- May of 2008! Over 13 years prior! At most lean-tos, the log book is either filled with entries- or destroyed- within a few seasons.

Scrolling through the log book I also observed numerous gaps consisting of many months between entries. The longest gap between consecutive entries was nearly a year- 11 months!

I also happened to notice that Leif Erikson had paid visit to that very same lean-to- in 1492 no less! Impressive than his inscription has survived the tests of time.

I spent a nice afternoon reading and enjoying the solitude. A few times throughout the day sprinkles passed by but for the most part it remained partly cloudy with some occasional patches of sunshine.

Just about as I was thinking about starting to cook dinner, I heard splashing and a whole lot of commotion coming from down by the shore. I got to to investigate, and discovered a family of weasels- mom and 2 or 3 kittens- emerging from an afternoon swim upon the lake. Upon seeing me, mom was quick to dive into the entrance to their den and attempt to coax her kittens to join her- unsuccessfully at first.

Rather than being afraid of me, her kittens clearly felt like they could take me on in a fair fight, judging from their screams and reluctance to give me a wide berth.

Eventually mom was finally able to coax her kittens down into the den with her. I wouldn't hear a peep out of them for the remainder of my stay.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. In the morning I awoke to more gloomy weather- low clouds were even teasing the tree tops on the hillside across the lake.

I figured that my last lean-to destination for the trip, Andy's Creek, was even less likely to be occupied so I took a leisurely morning packing up and hiking back to Big Moose Lake. I again retrieved my canoe from another hiding spot and set out upon the water once again.

Continued in next post...

Valcour Island Explorations 9/14 - 9/16/20

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(Authors note: This trip report is a bit belated given the time that has passed since. But it's a neat area and I gathered so much firsthand experience in addition to the photos I took that it seemed worthwhile finally putting together a trip report that might aid others planning their own future trips here.)

For years I've been eying a return visit to Valcour Island, part of the DEC's Lake Champlain Islands Complex unit of the Adirondack Forest Preserve. Valcour is a location that is somewhat important to me as it was the site of my very first primitive camping experience, away from any developed car-camping campground. As a teenager, I'd paddled out to the island and spent several nights camped the west shore with my father and a family friend. That trip was primarily a caving expedition- we spent the time exploring sea caves on the island's south and west shores. The bulk of the island remained unknown to my perception, and in the decades since that trip I've often thought about making a return visit to explore the island more fully on foot.

In September of 2020 I finally had the opportunity to make such a trip work. I planned my visit for mid-week with the goal of minimizing the number of other users I'd encounter, so that I could especially check out (and photograph) as many of the 25+ designated tent sites as possible on the island. (Depending on which "official" DEC source of info is to be believed, there's somewhere between 25 and 29 designated tent sites on the island.)

I was a bit concerned about wind- I'd heard horror stories of groups getting caught in big waves on Lake Champlain, and even during my initial visit as a teenager I remember we had to battle some significant waves ourselves just to get back to the boat launch at the conclusion of our trip. I'd be paddling solo so this was even more of a pressing concern. The forecast called for similar wind speeds on both the day I planned to paddle out to the island, and the day I planned to return, so I figured I'd be pretty safe by at least going to the boat launch, evaluating the conditions in person, and making a go/no go call on the spot.

And when I showed up, it wasn't too bad at all. Moderate waves but nothing that couldn't be easily handled with a strong stroke. I loaded up my canoe and set off on the roughly half-mile paddle to the island.

Bluff Point is the obvious prominence on the west side of the island that dominates the view from the mainland, and this is where I landed first, on rocky shoreline adjacent to site #25. This is an open and mostly grassy site surrounded by cedars, with excellent views across the straight that separates Valcour Island from the mainland. This was once the site of the Raboff Great Camp, which included a main house, a guest house, and an ice house.

From this site it was a short walk up to the lighthouse atop Bluff Point. When I first visited the island as a teenager, the lighthouse was decommissioned- it had been replaced with a beacon atop a metal tower nearby. At the time, plans to restore the lighthouse had been announced but much of the work had not yet been undertaken. It was nice to see, 20+ years later, that the restoration had been complete and the lighthouse was once again in service. Now, the metal tower stood unused, except as a nesting spot by a local avian.

I was also delighted to note that Valcour Island has its very own DEC trail markers. How come the other management units don't get their own unique markers? (Apart, I suppose, from the CL50 and the NPT. Perhaps the North Country Trail will also get unique DEC markers? Although I have also noted that NPT markers especially are prime targets for theft by souvenir seekers.)

I briefly contemplated setting up for my stay in site #25, but there was a bit of daylight still and I instead elected to paddle south down the west shore of the island and look for space in one of the sites down there. So back down to the rocky shoreline I went to hop back into my canoe and continue onward.

It was immediately apparent upon arrival that site #4 at Indian Point was prime real estate- tons of flat ground both in a grassy clearing adjacent to the water, and in a sheltered grove of cedars set a bit further back from the shore. There was also ample camp furniture here, including several tables.

There was even a bar, with a post overhead to hang a lantern from, and a peg on the end to hang your empties bag from too. Apart from the fact that it seems likely that several trees were forced to die to make it happen, it certainly feels like high class camping.

As the sun had just about sunk to the horizon I elected to set up camp here. I enjoyed a beautiful sunset while I made myself comfortable for the evening.

My goal for the next day was to see as much of the island as possible on foot, so I was up early. While working on breakfast I took a few moments to wander about the vicinity of the campsite. Site #4 was very obviously once the location of a camp- I learned after my trip through research that it was Camp Penn, a summer camp for boys. The clearing in the cedars where I'd chosen to pitch my tend was clearly once a building; it was difficult to be certain but based on the online description of the site I think it was the former dining hall.

Designated sites #3 and #5 were both in close proximity to site #4. Site #3 especially was essentially on the opposite end of the clearing occupied by site #4. It was difficult to see it by any definition as a distinct, separate site- and I image often is the occasion when a single large group occupies both sites.

Site #5 at least was far enough away that there was a solid wall of vegetative screening separating it from site #4. This was a nice site in a stand of evergreens.

I also found some old foundations nearby in the woods- presumably remnants of that same summer boys camp.

While poking around in the vicinity some more, I stumbled across designated tent site #2 maybe about a tenth of a mile along the shore to the south. I wasn't sure how obvious the site I'd stayed in on my first visit decades prior would be upon my return visit- or whether it was even still an established and/or designated site. As soon as I set foot in site #2, however, the memories came flooding back- this was definitely the one. I remembered the south facing aspect of the site, and the short but steep rocky scramble up from the shore to the site itself.

I also noticed some confusing markers with respect to the stretch of the perimeter trail that runs between sites #3, 4, and 5 and site #2. At one point I observed two parallel trails, both marked with DEC markers, both running along the shoreline but following separate courses several hundred feet apart. At first, I thought maybe the interior of the two paths was part of the Nomad Trail, the southern-most of the two trails that traverses the interior of the island from west to east. But I soon located the junction with the actual Nomad Trail and determined that this was not the case. More likely it appears that one of these trails started out as a herd path that somehow got marked by a confused DEC employee at some point during a visit to undertake trail maintenance.

Satisfied with my explorations of the immediate vicinity, I returned to camp, put together a day pack, secured my food in my bear canister, and set out for the day. As both of the interior trails (the aforementioned Nomad Trail and the Royal Savage Trail to the north) were also on my itinerary for the day, I elected to get the Nomad Trail out of the way first. At just over a mile in length, this trail leads through mixed and evergreen stands to Smuggler Harbor on the east shore of the island, where I snapped a quick photo of Lake Champlain before retracing my steps back to the west shore. The trail was in decent shape but clearly gets little use.

Back on the west shore, I was ready to set out on my proper circumnavigation around the island. I'd decided to hike counter-clockwise, visiting the south end of the island first. I made quick time south along the shore, soon passing site #2 again and continuing onward. Valcour Island is a rare example of karst topography in the Adirondacks- topography marked by subterranean dissolution of soluble rocks- in this case, limestone. Stretches of the trail crossed rocky outcrops and small pock marks were visible- the very beginnings of solutional caves that will slowly expand over centuries.

Valcour Island unfortunately is also home to some healthy and thriving populations of invasive plants. Buckthorn is especially pervasive in some areas of the island- particularly those spots that were once cleared for camps and/or homesteads.

Soon, I'd arrived at designated tent site #1, located on a broad spur of the shoreline named Cedar Point. This was an open, grassy site located next to an embankment of bedrock that slowly sloped down into the lake.

Continued in next post…