Robinson River south of Toad Pond

The following is a chronicle of an eight-day bushwhacking adventure into some of the most remote areas within the Five Ponds Wilderness Area in the northwestern Adirondacks. The trip includes traversing some areas of intense blow down along the oddly-shaped Oven Lake, exploring a cluster of wilderness ponds and following along the wild Robinson River. The first part of the third day is a long bushwhack over undulating hills, avoiding blow downs and cliffs, and crossing several streams just to reach the upper Robinson River.



Date: June 30, 2011
Length: 2.6 miles
Difficulty: Moderate (length, blow downs and cliffs)

Despite the light rain and much lower temperatures, I slept soundly throughout the night awaking around five AM. A low, thick cloud cover still hung over the area around Streeter Fishpond. The moisture on the ground and in the air is the only excuse I needed to lie in my Highlite sleeping bag, listening to the early morning bird chorus and drifting in and out of sleep.

White-throated sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler, black-throated green warbler, hermit thrush, and ovenbird were only a few of the many species singing loudly and persistently during my struggle to shake the sleep-induced lethargy. A single eastern bluebird sang in an attempt to be heard amongst the cacophony of other bird songs.

I finally extracted myself from my shelter and slowly performed my morning chores with my desire for an early start a distant memory. The low-lying cloud cover seemed to sap the little inspiration I mustered last night. The clouds partially broke during my breakfast and by 8:30 AM it was only partly cloudy. The blue sky melted away a good deal of my earlier apprehension and my mood improved immensely.

The ache in my back reminds me of the extra effort expelled to reach this point over the last two days. Luckily, this pain was due to overuse (and perhaps a less than stellar camp site) and not the arthritic condition causing me intermittent pain in my lower back and buttocks over many years. Apparently, stepping up my work out regime when I return home would be needed.

Now with my mental attitude improved, my physical condition now declined. Obviously, there is little rest for the weary middle-aged bushwhacker.

My current predicament is of little concern to the mosquitoes, as they swarm about my face despite the cooler morning temperatures. Bug repellent, hasty pacing and a constant Adirondack wave did not prevent some of these pesky flies from piercing my skin and sucking some of my life-giving blood. The constant onslaught of these insects inspired me to quickly pack-up my equipment for the day’s bushwhack; a single positive outcome of being bitten to the point of near insanity.

By 9:20 AM I head toward my final destination of the day: Oven Lake. Whether I could bushwhack such a distance in a single day was unknown, but without a long day it would get increasingly difficult to complete even a truncated version of my original plan to visit Oven Lake and the three remote ponds.

I often find using my compass unnecessary on a sunny day such as today; the sun itself functions as a direction when heading eastward. My short term goal is the outlet streams from Riley Ponds where I will hook-up and roughly follow my exit route from Toad Pond from the last year’s epic Stillwater Reservoir to Cranberry lake trip.

Streeter Fishpond

My ability to maintain my heading is hampered by elevation change and occasional blow down. A quick check of my GPS indicates a position too far to the northeast, reinforced by the appearance of an open wetland through the trees. With a new compass bearing set, I bushwhack straight upslope toward the approximate location where I crossed the Riley outlet stream during last year’s visit to the same area.

When I crest the hill and start the decent to the Riley Pond outlet stream, the understory vegetation thickens due to the more numerous scattered blow downs. The numerous young saplings and mixed herbaceous plants are quite tall here; the occasional blow downs providing a greater amount of light for plant growth. My progress decreases significantly here as navigating through thick, chest-high vegetation combined with downed logs obscures the forest floor enough to make appropriate footing difficult. To make matters worse, numerous large indentations in the ground occasionally catch the edge of my foot causing my ankle to roll expectantly.

As I wade through the thick understory vegetation, a startling series of repeated crashes through the vegetation draw my attention to the south. A white-tailed deer periodically bounds through the dense vegetation as it flees upslope and away from my position. Obviously, the poor thing heard me coming and made a hasty retreat. I watch the deer leap through the vegetation until it disappears over the hill, seeing a deer while bushwhacking in the Adirondacks being a fairly uncommon event.

The thick understory vegetation slowly decreases as I descend toward the stream. I easily cross the stream at a small clearing. An agitated male Magnolia warbler, carrying food in its beak, urges me to move on without delay, probably because a hungry young fledgling waits nearby.

Pile of Moose Droppings

Soon after crossing the stream, I nearly step in a large pile of moose droppings. The presence of moose may explain the many indentations encountered between Streeter Fishpond and the stream from earlier this morning. When I restarted my eastward progress it was with a renewed feeling of excitement of the possibility of seeing a moose in the backcountry. My anxiety from the previous few days is now completely dissipated.

The second stream crossing was very rocky, unlike the one earlier. The rocks were wet from the overnight light rain giving them slimy sheen making them extremely slippery. The water rapidly cascaded around the rocks, causing a cacophony of sounds signally the stream’s presence well before ever catching sight of it.

Soon after crossing the stream a large open wetland appears through the trees to the south. This wetland can be quite wet based on my previous experience from my last year’s trip. Although it might be faster to navigate through the open wetland, the cost in wet feet is just too high of a price to pay a beautiful sunny day. Instead, I parallel the wetland’s northern border, far enough away to avoid fighting through the dense conifers surrounding the wetland.

Conifer forest east of second stream crossing

While bushwhacking to the north of the wetland there I avoid numerous piles of moose dropping; the piles appearing practically every time I look down at the ground. The moose droppings appear at such a startling frequency I start to wonder whether I am wandering through a moose latrine or travelling along a moose scat super-highway. By the time I clear the wetland’s eastern end I am certain the opportunity to see a moose will present itself on this trip.

The clear sky and sunny conditions greatly alleviate my anxiety of the last two days. Even with my more positive outlook I still uncertain about reaching Oven Lake before the end of the day so I change my bearing to around 50 degrees to retain the option of stopping at Toad Pond instead. This bearing leads me to a beaver dam where I can cross a stream I would soon encounter. This stream is the inlet of the large, open wetland I just finished paralleling.

The beaver dam appears more extensive than it did on my way through this area last year. I easily cross with no incident and the resident beaver fails to make an appearance in the process.

After crossing I continue bushwhacking east toward Toad Pond but become stymied by blow downs and steep terrain before I go much further. Consulting my Garmin eTrex Legend GPS reveals I came from the south during last year’s trip, most likely to avoid these same obstructions. Thank goodness I never removed the points from last year; for once my laziness and disorganization pays off.

I bushwhack southward until I spot a cleft in the cliff providing a gradual climb remarkably blow down free. I immediately turn southeast, humming as I climb upslope. When bushwhacking through an area known for its arduous backcountry travel one must enjoy their good fortunes when they are able.

Robinson River south of Toad Pond

The forest becomes increasingly pleasant to navigate through as I continue to make progress to the southeast along the southwestern shoulder of a hilltop located just southwest of Toad Pond. With no more intense blow downs to contend with for the foreseeable future (which, granted is only as far as I can see through the mature forest), I decide to abandon any thought of going to Toad Pond. Instead I take a new compass bearing of 120 degrees (SE) toward a stream feeding the Robinson River from the northeast about a half mile south of Toad Pond.

My new bearing should result in crossing the Robinson River at a contour line (where its elevation decreases by 20 feet) increasing the chance of finding either a beaver dam or a rock hopping opportunity. This location should set me up to follow the stream feeding the river from the northeast. The stream (or series of swales as indicated by the USGS topo map) may provide an easy way to approach the remote Oven Lake as the aerial photographs I brought with me indicate Oven Lake to be completely surrounded by 100% blow down from the 1995 microburst.

After heading over the southwestern shoulder of a hilltop, I descend to a small stream bed completely surrounded by tree canopy. The stream is easily crossed and an ascent over another hilltop shoulder begins. The mature forest contains little blow down here making my progress easy and enjoyable.

When I ascend to the top of the shoulder the remainder of my trip to the Robinson River becomes a decent through a mostly mature hardwood forest with very little blow down. The descent combined with a reasonable amount of blow down and ground vegetation my progress is swift and enjoyable.

Rocky Robinson River crossing

Soon the descent levels out and the clearing surrounding the Robinson River comes into view in front of me. The crossing is wide and open with scattered pools of open water along the river. This was the first of two crossings of this river I was worried about. If I could only get past this one then I would not have to face this wild river again until the seventh day of this eight day trip.

I scan the area around the river from the border of the open area, looking for the contour change I was heading toward for the last hour. To the north there was a knoll jutting out into the open area where I suspected were some exposed rocks. Ah-ha! A possible crossing point! Without delay I navigated through the bordering forest for what I hoped would be an easy crossing.

From my vantage point in the forest I could see the knoll was covered with rocks and coniferous trees. While navigating through the rocks and trees, being careful not to twist an ankle by falling through any holes between the rocks, I could hear the sound of rushing water on the opposite side of the knoll. This sound inspired me enough to force my way through until I could see a crossing.

Not only is there enough exposed rocks for rock hopping and an old log spanning the entire width of the river but an old beaver dam as well. The beaver dam had a gapping hole in the middle of it where the river swiftly passed through it. Obviously, the beaver had been absent from this area for some time.

Beaver dam near rocky Robinson River crossing

I rock hop above the dam since I felt it was the easiest of the three possible opportunities for crossing.

With my stomach growling its hunger I set about looking for an adequate lunch spot. A small open area on a peninsula overlooking the river inspires me and I drop my backpack for an extended late lunch break at almost 2 PM. Before starting my lunch I set up my water filter so as to replace my almost completely consumed water supply while eating my lunch.

During lunch I spot a common grackle flying overhead in rapid pursuit of what I presumed was a red-tailed hawk. I am unable to wipe my lunch from my fingers and grab my binoculars before they vanish over the surrounding canopy.

After lunch I plan on making straight for the stream to the southeast and follow it northeast right for the southern tip of Oven Lake. My first major destination of the trip is almost within reach.

Oven Lake is so close I can almost taste it now. Or is that just my lunch?

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