Derby Brook
With an entire day on Lot 8 under my belt, my fourth day in the Jay Mountain Wilderness Area greets me with the knowledge that it is time to leave the endangered property behind and climb McDonough Mountain (Slip Mountain on USGS topo maps) on my long way back to my vehicle at the Jay Mountain trailhead. Leaving Lot 8 behind, knowing that it is likely I will never have another opportunity to explore it again in its present state turns what would otherwise be a beautiful day in the backcountry into a more somber affair.
My morose attitude might explain my waking with a headache around five in the morning. The temperature is cooler than the previous day, with the wind whipping the forest canopy high above me. In no hurry to exit my sleeping bag, I find other activities to take up time, for example, enjoying the bird chorus, slipping back into slumber occasionally, making some audio recordings
Section Stats:
Date: June 20, 2014
Length: 2.6 miles (2.6 total daily miles; 18.2 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Moderate
Returning to my tarp, I bandage up my poor overworked foot, pack up my stuff, take down the tarp, setup my breadcrumb and perform other morning chores. By the time I start breakfast, it is sunny but still breezy, with the temperatures becoming more comfortable with each passing minute. By nine in the morning, it is time to leave my campsite behind and head west toward Lot 8’s orange-flagged border, just as the rumbling of heavy equipment to the east interrupts the bird songs overhead.
After a short distance, the orange-flagged border is within sight, so I take a moment to stop and turnaround, taking a final opportunity to reflect on the fate of Lot 8. So long, Lot 8, I barely knew you, but I really liked what I saw. Mumbling “Thanks New York State voters, you bastards,” under my breath as I cross the orange-flagged border, I leave Lot 8 behind. I do not look back again.
Soon after leaving the orange-flagged boundary, a strange sight makes me stop and take notice. A paper birch grows next to a large maple tree, the paper birch’s limbs growing in the direction of its nearest neighbor as if it were hugging it. It is as if I am glimpsing an intimate moment in slow motion, causing me to turn away red-faced with embarrassment. Giving them privacy, I continue on my way.
Derby Brook is my first destination for the morning, with a small tributary stream lying between the larger brook and myself. Heading southwest, I cover some of the same ground as when I returned from water filtering yesterday. This nagging déjà vu feeling becomes more tangible when I find myself looking down from a steep slope on the very tributary stream below that served as my source of water the day before.
After a short climb off the ridge, it takes a mere hop to cross the small stream, providing only a slight obstacle as I head off toward Derby Brook without delay. The surrounding hardwood forest proves to be of little hindrance, even though it is fairly dense around the stream. Finally, I descend a steep ravine and find a small and disappointing stream crossing my path. This is Derby Brook?!?
Touchy-feely Paper Birch
A constant roar off to the south gives me a little more hope of finding a more significant stream than the little trickle I just encountered. Another small stream plays with my expectations, yet the roar from the south continues, still providing the opportunity of crossing a more impressive stream still to come. Finally, after climbing over a low ridge covered in small firs, a boulder-strewn brook appears – Derby Brook.
The roar of the water as it cascades over the multitude of rocks and boulders drowns out all other sounds, including the nearby birds. The water is perfectly clear, and nearly ice cold when I immerse my hands in it. Nearby a single bone lies at the bottom of the stream, either a humerus or a tibia, with one end broken off with sharp edges. It suggests a chicken bone to me, which just makes me hungry for a nice chicken breast, while, unfortunately, only peanut butter and jelly awaits me for lunch in a few hours.
Taking time to enjoy the view, I set about creating a breadcrumb on a flat rock. When I finally finish with the breadcrumb, I find other excuses to linger, including taking ample photographs and even recording the audio of the stream as the water flows around the many rocks. The pleasant view infuses me with the urge to sit down and rest, but I resist as the long day has just begun.
Finally, unable to find any more excuses, I cross to the southern side of the brook, which should allow me to avoid the more arduous climbing suggested by the topo map of the area. Conifers growing along the stream bank force me to move a good distance away from the stream bank, using the audible roar of the brook as my guide.
Bone in Derby Brook
Following Derby Brook westward is my plan, at least as far as a flat area just southwest of McDonough (i.e. Slip) Mountain. Originally, my plan was to turn northwest toward Merriam Swamp from there, but trudging through the woods gives my mind time to mull over altering my plan. Since I missed the opportunity to see the NYCO mine earlier in the trip, the idea of climbing McDonough Mountain to get a second opportunity of a possible bird’s eye view of the pit has a great deal of appeal.
The path west is mostly upslope, with just an occasional, and unfortunately, all too rare dip in the terrain whenever a small tributary stream cuts across my path. Often Derby Brook is within sight, off to the north through the trees, but occasionally either the forest obscures it or I temporarily move too far south to keep it within sight. The understory vegetation is much thicker here than it was back on Lot 8, making the bushwhacking a little more challenging and sometime necessitating moving in a direction that I would rather not take.
Derby Brook
Fortunately, the hiking gets a little easier when I find myself on a herd path. It appears deer are the culprits, since embedded hoof prints are evident in the leaf litter and often bark on recently downed trees across the path is scraped off in manner consistent with hooved creatures. My appreciation to the deer for making my effort less taxing knows no bounds.
When the path climbs upon a high ridge overlooking Derby Brook, I shed my backpack for a short rest. While catching my breath and resting my weary muscles, I notice a blue jay returning to the same area in the canopy. Its uncharacteristically quiet nature leads me to believe a nest might be in the area. Pishing only confirms my thinking, as instead of a raucous call to alert every creature within a good distance of my presence, the bird doubles down and never utters a peep.
With my rest complete, I pack up and start off along the herd path again. Slowly, the path descends the ridge and inches its way closer to Derby Brook. When blowdowns block the path, crossing the brook seems wiser than trying to continue on through the mess. I quickly regret the decision however, as boulders, thick conifers and a steep slope quickly greet me on the other side.
Derby Brook crossing
The topo map indicates that the northern side of the stream is easier going now, so I repress the urge to cross back onto the other side. Avoiding the steep bank requires climbing up into the forest and away from Derby Brook again, but thankfully the sound of the rushing water always lets me know its location. As I draw closer to McDonough Mountain, my mind once again begins planning an ascent, with the fantasy of an open rock cliff view to the east egging the idea on.
At the top of the slope is another herd path, or perhaps the same one as before where I just by-passed its crossing of the stream. The herd path edges itself back toward the stream, inching its way as it continues heading westward. By the time the path leads back to the stream, the terrain levels off with the stream now almost rock-free as it meanders through the forest.
Paper birch starts to appear in the forest in much greater numbers now. Most are standing tall along with the other hardwoods, though a few succumbed to some past wind and lie in differing states of collapse and decay. The downed trees force me away from the stream once again, leading me north until I find it easier to head back toward my watery lifeline.
Forest near Derby Brook
The trees are smaller now, losing the girth that was present previously on my climb up to this point. In addition, the canopy seems fuller, with the diversity in tree height providing a layering effect, letting less sun shine down onto the forest floor. Despite the seemingly lack of light, the ground cover remains green and lush, making it increasingly difficult to bushwhack without crushing the occasional plant, or three.
When I notice more light to the south, I start toward that direction, back where Derby Brook lies. The trees quickly thin out, giving way to a more open area, where paper birches snags now stand where once their living counterparts stood. Grasses, sedges and other herbaceous vegetation cover the ground, released from their seeds by the open canopy providing ample, life-giving sunlight. Somewhere out in that open area, water meanders its way back toward the forest, where the rocky Derby Brook flows down to the east.
The openness allows for a pleasant view in almost every direction. Beyond the paper birch stems, devoid of even the firmest of their branches, a steep ridge is visible connecting McDonough Mountain to the northeast and Saddleback Mountain to the southwest. In just a few hours, despite my eventual route, I shall be traversing that ridge in one place or another.
Meadow near headwaters
Where possible, I continue along the meadow, staying just outside the open forest to the north. With my path either taking me north toward McDonough Mountain or east toward Merriam Swamp, staying to the north of the wet area makes the most sense to me. When the dryness temps me, I head out farther into the meadow, only to eventually retreat toward the forest once again as the going gets too wet for my taste.
Although the stream seems to be small and meandering, the further I go west, the more stagnant it becomes, with tendrils of open water going in seemingly every direction. Downed logs abound, crisscrossing each other, bleached gray from the sunlight, lie throughout the meadow and even over the stream itself. The meadow appears ancient, untouched by everything other than occasional beaver, indicated by the numerous dams throughout the wet mess.
Small old dams appear to be everywhere between pools of stagnant water. Grasses, sedges and other herbaceous vegetation covers most of the older ones. Lanes of crushed vegetation over the dams indicate where the resident beavers travel from one pool to another as they perform their duties. Red maple branches, retaining their green leaves, float in several of the ponds, perhaps left as a possible snack for later.
Derby Brook headwaters
As I continue west, open water becomes more frequent than the herbaceous vegetation, forcing me once again into the fringes of the forest. Paper birches dominate the forest much like the meadow, although these are massive giants, with full canopies of green foliage. Very few young trees exist, most likely easy prey for the resident beavers. Despite the full canopy, the open meadow allows for a prodigious supply of sunlight, giving rise to thick ground covering of ferns and other herbaceous cover.
Unfortunately, this ground cover provides ample camouflage for a dangerous hazard left behind by the area beavers. The possibility of danger lies behind each tuft of ferns, as shin-high stumps sharpened to perfection by the beavers are a frequent hazard. Moving slowly, searching ahead with my hiking poles is a necessity, that is, if preserving my already bruised shins remains a concern.
When I find a good place to filter
Sitting on a log along the drier edge of a pond seems like an excellent lunch spot. Apparently, I am not alone with that assessment, as a flock of young ruffed grouse fly up suddenly, scattering in all directions and startling me in the process.
Nearly crapping my pants is not the best way to start out lunch in the backcountry, but with the impressive surrounding view, it works for me.
Derby Brook headwaters
Forest near lunch spot
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