Robinson River

The following is a description of an eight-day bushwhacking adventure into some of the most remote areas within the Five Ponds Wilderness in the northwestern Adirondacks. The trip includes traversing areas of intense blowdown along the oddly-shaped Oven Lake, exploring a cluster of wilderness ponds and following the wild Robinson River. The second part of day seven is a bushwhack along an extensive northern portion of the Robinson River.

Section Stats:
Date: July 4, 2011
Length: 1.6 miles (2.1 miles for the day)
Difficulty: Moderate

With the crossing of the northern section of the Robinson River behind me, I can now relax and concentrate on heading west along the northern stretch of the river. The river acts as my guide for at least another mile of bushwhacking before departing for the marked trail system to Wolf Pond.

This part of the day’s hike takes me through some of the most remote areas of the Five Ponds Wilderness in the northwestern Adirondacks. I plan on savoring this wilderness experience since before the day is out I will be hiking along the marked trail system for the majority of the remainder of my backpacking trip.

The mosquitoes keep my rest break brief after crossing the beaver dam and reaching the river’s northern shore. Without lingering about, I immediately bushwhack to the west, moving back into the surrounding forest while keeping within sight of the open floodplain.

When an opening overlooking the floodplain appears within the trees (map point #76), I cannot allow the opportunity to pass by without taking a few photographs with my camera. The floodplain is choked with grasses and sedges, as well as a scattering of alder shrubs, many with very few leaves. Could these shrubs be succumbing to increasing water levels too?

For this vantage point, I can still see some open water amongst the alders and herbaceous vegetation clumps, completely scuttling my hope for a dry river plain. A dry river plain would offer an easy hiking experience for the next mile or so. Unfortunately, this was not to be, at least not this year. Instead, I will have to continue my hike back into the forest, avoiding the thicker spruce and/or fir near the floodplain’s edge.

A subtle bird call catches my attention from within the alders out on the floodplain. A soft, buzzy “reeeet” is repeated occasionally. I respond with my best (yet very poor) imitation, hoping to lure the bird in for a closer look. Unfortunately, it never takes the bait and I am left to scratching my head with regards to the bird’s identity.

My best guess to the bird’s identity is an alder flycatcher. I respond with the alder flycatcher’s typical “fee-BEE-oh” but the bird falls totally silent; perhaps insulted by my feeble attempt. I heard few Empidonax flycatchers singing on this trip, which I attribute to being later in the breeding season for these small, nondescript birds.

I resume heading to the southwest, staying into the forest but remaining close enough to see the open area surrounding the river. Thankfully, the conifer forest is not so dense that I have to retreat farther back from the floodplain and into the hardwood forest further north.

Finally, I reach what appears to be a peninsula overlooking the floodplain and I am unable to proceed further southwest (point #77). A gap in the trees provides an opportunity for some nice photographs of the river’s floodplain to the southwest, including part of the Robinson River itself. The water is dark and slow moving making it impossible to tell whether I am observing the main river or just an oxbow though.

Since the floodplain is too wet to proceed further, I head north staying into the forest rather than attempt to remain on my original southwestern course. It does not take me too long before I can return to my original direction though.

Forest surrounding Robinson River

As I continue southwest, another detour around a widening floodplain appears inevitable. Rather than return to the river here (point #78), I remain at the interface between the conifers lining the open floodplain and the mature hardwood forest to its north. The bushwhacking here is much easier as there are fewer sharp twigs near eye level constantly attempting to assault my face. I applaud my tendency to wear safety glasses while bushwhacking every time a wooden dagger-like twig glances off the thick plastic protecting my eyes.

As I continue through the forest, many hoof prints lie embedded in the forest floor. Although some appear indistinct, others are definitely moose tracks. I fail to find any scat but the prints verify I am still in an area where moose frequent. This continues the trend of moose scat and tracks I have observed since leaving Streeter Fishpond back on my third day of this backpacking wilderness adventure.

Finally, I reach a point where the river’s floodplain opens up and becomes much wider (point #79). A nice view of the river’s surrounding area to the west is available due to some conifer blowdown. Crawling over the tangle of downed spruce trees, a tip-up mound provides me with a better view of the surrounding area.

Robinson River floodplain

Although the river continues to the southwest, a wet, shrubby area extends to the north. Unless I am willing to get wet feet, I need to head north around this wet floodplain extension. Not even my Asolo hiking boots and Integral Designs Shortie Gaiters are enough to insure feet dry if I chose to risk trying to cut across the floodplain.

While surveying the surrounding landscape from my vantage point on the tip-up mound, I notice an area where the grass is matted down. Curious, I climb off the tip-up mound and scramble a short distance down onto the grassy floodplain. A short jaunt through the knee-height grass brings me to the edge of disturbance.

Obviously something bedded down here recently. The matted down area is quite extensive too. Either multiple deer bedded down together (i.e. a female and fawn) or it was something larger than just a deer (e.g. moose). A search amongst the grass for some scat might shed some light on the mystery; unfortunately I find none. With the moose tracks observed close by, I imagine it was a moose that bedded down here.

Moose bed?

Returning to the relatively dry confines of the surrounding forest, I head north, trying to bushwhack around the perimeter of the wet area. Before I get very far I hear a low moan repeated at irregular intervals. I cannot recall ever hearing anything quite like this before, and I am unable to determine whether the sound originates from a bird, mammal, frog or insect. Every time I in the direction of the sound, it appears to just move farther away. Then it abruptly stops. Despite my attempts to imitate the sound, I get no response.

Finally, I return to bushwhacking through the forest to the north again. The coniferous forest gets denser and younger along the eastern side of the wet area. The thickness forces me further away from the wet area’s perimeter as I struggle to continue north.

After crossing a small, swampy stream the forest opens up and I return to the perimeter of the wet area (point #80). As I clear the wet area to the north (point #81), I am forced up a steep slope to avoid sloshing through a conifer swamp to the south. The conifer swamp is like nothing I have ever seen before. It is located in a basin, perhaps 20 feet below my position at the top rise.

Conifer Basin along Robinson River

From my position I look almost directly into the canopy of some very tall and incredibly straight spruces. The trees are widely spaced with an almost park like atmosphere, if it were not for the carpet of Sphagnum moss and a scattering of ferns. An occasional, scattered pool of stagnant water or a log lies on top of the moss carpet.

The forest contrast is startling to the north. Large yellow birches and red maples dominate a hardwood forest present as far as the eye can see to the north. There is very little evidence of any blow down here.

Just when I think the mosquitoes cannot get any worse, they prove otherwise. As I continue along the edge of the basin (point #82), the mosquitoes seem to come out in droves. I continuously swat them off my face and neck, so often my hands get covered in my own blood. Despite the warm weather I am thankful for being almost completely covered from head to foot with the exception of my head and hands.

Floodplain narrows

Almost immediately after finally returning to the edge of the floodplain (point #83), I am forced to scramble back into the forest to avoid another wet basin of conifers. This one is not as deep as the previous one or as extensive but unfortunately it makes up for in wetness what it lacks in size. Despite the smaller size the mosquito intensity is just as great. It contains more blowdowns along its edge though and this makes the going much more difficult than its neighbor to the east.

After bushwhacking around the northern edge of the shallow basin (point #84), I make my way back to the edge of the floodplain (point #85). The mosquitoes are indescribable here; my progress must be slow enough that they have accumulated since the first basin I skirted around. The blood-sucking assault keeps me from loitering long despite the occassional scenic views.

In a futile attempt to get a little relief from the mosquitoes and avoid a steeper slope, I set a compass bearing through the forest to cut off a little mileage as the river turns to the northwest. The river’s turn to the northwest indicates I am nearing the point where the river turns south and I leave it behind to head toward the marked trail system.

Shabby Beaver Dam

I return to the river’s edge near where the floodplain narrows and the surrounding coniferous forest closes in on it. There is much beaver activity here, as I step over numerous recently chewed hardwood stumps. A beaver lodge lies out in the river. Despite the beaver activity, there is no evidence of an extensive beaver dam, although there is more open water and less emergent grasses/sedges as was the case further east.

Finally, I arrive at a shabby beaver dam just before the river changes course and heads south toward an extensive swamp, and eventually Toad Pond. Since this marks the end of my relationship with the Robinson River (at least on this trip), I decide to sit down and eat my lunch before heading on. It is just before noon and for once I eat my lunch at a reasonable time.

After finishing lunch and filtering water, I will set off on the third phase of my day’s backcountry adventure back to the marked trail system. The river and I will part company as I bushwhack through an impenetrable forest further west toward the Five Ponds Trail. A leisurely hike follows all the way to the Wolf Pond lean-to for the night.

Robinson River turns south

View to south along Robinson River

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