Largest pond in Threemile Beaver Meadow from dam
The Pepperbox Wilderness Area is one of the smaller wilderness areas in the Adirondack Park, yet it remains one of my favorites. In years past, I explored areas west of Threemile Beaver Meadow (a three mile long series of beaver meadows) and the many ponds (e.g. Deer Pond, Sunshine Pond, Pepperbox Pond, Duck Pond, Cropsey Pond, etc.) located in the eastern half of the wilderness area , but the remote central portion remained a completely mystery to me. With a lack of lakes and ponds, there few popular features to draw in any backcountry crowds, leaving the potential for some exciting discoveries for any intrepid soul willing to traverse the rolling hills and meandering streams.
So, in late summer, I am that intrepid soul.
A final, frantic, early morning packing behind me, I depart from the Syracuse area, arriving at Moshier Road (a dirt road), off Stillwater Road (another dirt road), about two miles east of Number Four, NY. Number Four is no thriving metropolis, although it might have been special in its hay-day, now it is nothing more than a name on either a road sign or a map to indicate an intersection.
Moshier Road leads to a Brookfield Power generating plant on the Beaver River, but I turn off into a parking area on the right side of the dirt road before reaching the inevitable gate. The large parking lot only contains a single vehicle, which is typically more than I ever saw on previous trips here. Based on the vehicles in the parking lot from past trips and the number of listings in the register, this portion of the Adirondacks is not too popular with outdoor enthusiasts. The lack of marked trails and any facilities (i.e. lean-tos) probably explains much of the lack visitors.
View Day One in a larger map
Section Stats:
Date: August 31, 2010
Length: 3.0 miles (3.0 total daily miles; 3.0 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy
The weather is cloudy, hot, humid and breezy, a typical summer day in the Adirondacks at the end of August. Not the perfect weather for a bushwhack into a trailless wilderness like the Pepperbox Wilderness, but at least there is little chance of rain in the forecast.
A sign in the parking area indicates the Pepperbox Wilderness follows a red marked trail heading uphill to the north. Fortunately, I am aware of the signage’s inaccuracy, and therefore, I ignore it. Instead, after recording my details in the register, I cross the road and descend via a series of steps to the stream bank of the Sunday Creek along a trail marked with blue markers. The trail proceeds along the creek within a hemlock dominated forest, until finally reaching a bridge crossing over to the opposite side.
Immediately upon reaching the far side of the creek, I face my first decision of the trip, in the form of a choice between two trails. On the right, a foot trail continues along Sunday Creek, where the trail straight ahead, which is a much wider and flatter canoe carry, disappears into a mature forest. Both of these trails eventually lead to the Beaver River, so the decision is mostly one of preference more than anything else.
Settling the matter diplomatically, I decide on the foot trail, leaving the canoe carry for my exit five days from now. The foot trail soon skirts around a pool, where a portion of the Beaver River runs through one of the Brookfield Power buildings. A constant hum (from turbines perhaps?) becomes more apparent here. From my past experiences, this hum (or another related one) appears ever-present throughout the southern portion of the Pepperbox Wilderness. Either that or it is all in my head.
Soon after leaving the pool, the trail crosses the Beaver River on a large suspension bridge (with the canoe carry coming in on the left at the bridge) before re-entering the forest. While crossing the swaying bridge, I tighten my grip on my hiking poles, fearing the possibility of them falling through the slates and disappearing into the depths of the river below.
From the bridge, the trail weaves along the edge of private property before entering a power-line right-of-way. The transition from mature Adirondack forest to the right-of-way is jarring, as the area under the power lines has been recently brushed out, with the cut young growth left in place to gradually decompose. The trail winds through the right-of-way, eventually ending at a small wooden sign (CPBX-001) at the border of the Pepperbox Wilderness. The sign delivers the dire warning that there are no marked foot-trails in the beyond.
The unfortunate positioning of this sign always makes me chuckle. Although there are no state marked trails, an easy to follow foot-trail continues right past the sign as it begins its journey through the interior of the Pepperbox Wilderness. Occasional gray paint swashes mark trees along its course, at least as far as a large beaver vly to the northeast. The trail continues beyond the beaver meadow, but becomes much harder to follow and lacks the swashes.
On a previous trip, I attempted to follow the trail all the way to Bear Pond (unsuccessfully, I might add), but today I plan to only follow it for a short distance, where an older herd path heads west. This side trail eventually turns north and proceeds along the stream flowing through Threemile Beaver Meadow. Previously, I exited the area this way, but this will be my first time using it to gain access to the vast interior.
Pepperbox no trails sign
After weaving through the forest and passing a small beaver vly to the west, the foot trail arrives at an intersection (CPBX-002) with what appears as an old logging road. A survival shelter made of conifer bows stood here a few years ago, but only a small pile of needless branches and some charred old firewood remain now. The old logging road leads to the Beaver River to the east, but I turn west, following it to a small stream crossing. From the stream (CPBX-003), the old logging road circles around to the west of a large open and shrubby wetland.
While circling the wetland, the old road climbs uphill through a beautiful hardwood forest before returning to a mixed forest along the wetland’s western border. Enjoying my surroundings, I almost miss a piece of black and pink striped flagging tied to a small spruce on the west side of the logging road, just as the old road ascends a small ridge (CPBX-006). This flagging marks a herd path coming from the northeast, while the logging road appears to keep going northwest toward the private property on the other side of the county line. Since my plan calls for following the stream flowing from the northeast out of Threemile Beaver Meadow, I take the narrow herd path, leaving the old road behind.
The herd path heads north/northeast around the open wetland. As I continue along the path, enjoying the late summer quiet, a gunshot breaks the silence, emanating from the northwest. Immediately, I stop in my tracks with my hackles up, as my mind races through any possible hunting seasons this in late August. This is especially troubling, as my route for today takes me right through a popular hunting campsite to the north. Luckily, there are no subsequent shots, for which I am extremely thankful.
Threemile Beaver Meadow outlet stream
Soon after hearing the gunshot, where the herd path passes closely to the edge of the wetland, the sudden snort of a white-tailed deer startles me (CPBX-007). The doe and her almost adult fawn take flight through the vegetation, bounding through the shrubby wetland, and within seconds, both vanish into the forest along the opposite side of the meadow. Soon afterwards, upon finally recovering from the successive incidents of gunshot and deer, a flushed up ruffed grouse takes flight nearby. At this point, I start wishing I packed some laundry detergent in my pack for this trip.
After clearing the wetland to the north, the herd path joins the rocky Threemile Beaver Meadow outlet stream (CPBX-008). Unfortunately, I lose the herd path just a short distance further when crossing a small swampy area (CPBX-009), where following the path’s subtle impression in the leaf litter proves impossible. Instead of searching for the herd path, I just hug the stream, as I know from a previous trip that the path follows along it further upstream. In a short distance, I once again locate the herd path along the stream, making the hiking considerably easier as I proceed northward.
The herd path hugs the western bank of the rocky stream underneath an almost solid forest canopy, except for the occasional small grassy clearing. The stream is slow moving and even stagnant in some sections, probably due to a well constructed beaver dam upstream rather than a lack of recent rainfall.
Bright rock slab
It takes another thirty minutes along the stream before reaching the next open beaver meadow. A large slab of exposed rock, bleached white by the relentless sun, rises from the stream, just upon entering the beaver meadow (CPBX-011). The slab’s brightness is blinding where it directly reflects the sun’s rays, making it painful to look at without the aid of sunglasses. A large white pine towers above the other trees along the northern border of the meadow, as if it were a sentry, guarding the herd path against all trespassers as it winds through the meadow.
The herd path crosses the wetland, heading toward the towering sentry pine, through numerous wet spots. Only the remains of corduroy embedded within the saturated ground and my Asolo TPS 520 boots
After crossing through a ridge of trees along the northern border of the meadow, the path crosses through another open wet meadow similar to the previous one. This new meadow contains the remains of a huge beaver dam, apparently damaged in the distant past. Despite the faintness of the herd path through the meadow, I follow it all the way to the far side of the wetland, where another ridge is located, this one containing a large hunters’ campsite (CPBX-012).
Upon arriving at the campsite, I set down my GoLite Pinnacle
Lone towering pine
Instead of heading through the wetland to the north, which appears a little wet, I follow another herd path leaving the campsite to the west. This herd path leads only a short distance west before turning north, following near the edge of the wet area to the north. As the herd path continues north, it proceeds through another hunters’ campsite (CPBX-013), except this one appears long abandoned. A large fallen white pine bisects the campsite, possibly leading to its obvious abandonment.
Soon after leaving the old campsite, I abandon the increasingly hard to follow herd path, heading out into the open wetland toward the stream. Hopefully, I can get as close as possible to the large beaver pond to the north before heading directly over another forested ridge to its shoreline. Unfortunately, this plan fails when the wetland becomes increasingly wetter, so I reenter the forest (CPBX-014) and head directly toward the largest pond in the Threemile Beaver Meadow.
This ridge is both wider and wilder than the previous ones, requiring a steep climb through many boulders surrounded by mature conifers. To my surprise, the top of the ridge yields a herd path, which I follow east, all the way to the outlet of the largest beaver pond for some badly needed water filtering.
Filtering over 5 liters seems to take forever. Normally, filtering a large amount of water so close to a pond would be ridiculous, but from past trips, I learned convenient water access is scarce along the western shore of the large beaver pond, due mostly to the muddy shoreline. Although water levels appear higher now, I am not taking any chances.
Hunters\’ campsite
My plan is to camp at the same site I had used several times in the past, near a large rock along the western shore of the beaver pond. Unfortunately, under wetter conditions than in the past, a large, wet spur meadow to the northwest stood in the way. In the past, when it was much drier, it was possible to easily cross this spur meadow to gain access to the pond’s western shore. Today, the meadow is nearly saturated, so heading west in search of a drier crossing remains my only option.
After filtering water, I follow the herd path along the ridge to the west, carefully stepping over a wood frog embedded in the forest floor in the middle of the path. Soon the herd path becomes less distinct, so I head down to the edge of the beaver meadow to continue my search for a drier crossing. As I continue along the southern edge of this spur wetland, I notice a rather large and recent black bear print in the mud. Luckily, after seeing the paw print, I am able to tiptoe through the mud, finally reaching the drier and shrubbier northern side of the spur.
Hopefully, the bear and I are not planning on staying at the same place tonight.
While heading northeast, back toward the main pond, I notice numerous deer bedding areas in the drier and grassy open area. A bird flushes up when I stop and investigate the crushed vegetation, but I fail to get a good enough look at it before it vanishes into the nearby forest.
Threemile Beaver Dam largest pond spur wetland
When I approach the open pond again, I change direction and head up and onto a ridge running northeast. Continuing northeast along the ridge, I finally arrive at a rock cliff, offering an excellent view of the southern portion of the pond. Unfortunately, this ledge has many patches of fragile lichen covering it, so I go to great lengths not to damage any of it. After enjoying the view, I continue north, down off the ledge and then up onto the next lower ledge just beyond it.
Finding the same campsite (CPBX-015) for a previous trip proves easy enough, given the lack of level sites in this area. Some of the sticks previously used to mark the location of my titanium tarp stakes were still embedded in the forest floor where I left them. Not especially leave no trace, not that anyone would ever notice, except on close inspection. Also, at the base of a nearby tree, I find the two rocks used previously to hang my food bag. This saves me a lot of time hunting around for rocks; no locating a small streambed or a recent tip-up mound this time around.
After eating dinner, I move out to a rock outcropping located along the western edge of the large beaver pond. With the sun setting it is increasingly difficult to identify the birds on the pond with my Leica Ultravid 8×20
After the sun sets, the stars become increasingly visible in the darkening sky over the pond. Bats fly rapidly overhead, occasionally swooping down right over my head, to my delight. They are likely devouring the mosquitoes buzzing around my head, which form a dense cloud with the increasing darkness. Other than the mosquitoes, quiet dominates, only occasionally broken by the call of a seasonally-challenged spring peeper, some enthusiastic crickets and a far-off barred owl.
View to south from rock across largest Threemile Beaver Meadow pond
View to north from rock across largest Threemile Beaver Meadow pond
Unfortunately, the day’s effort finally catches up with me, so I retreat to my campsite, crawling into my Western Mountaineering HighLite sleeping bag
Continuing along Threemile Beaver Meadow and on to Bear Pond awaits me in the morning.
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