Forest near stream
Awaking from a deep slumber is no easy feat at my campsite that is sandwiched between the second and third peaks west of McDonough Mountain in the heart of the Jay Mountain Wilderness Area. The temperature is low for June, my thermometer
The morning bird chorus is muted, probably from the higher elevations and the cold morning. A Swainson’s thrush’s flute-like song lulls me back into dreamland, and the ovenbird, the winter wren and yellow-rumped warbler singing nearby are not enough to counteract the effect. When an unidentified bird lands on the front of my tarp, it startles me enough to flush sleep from my system just before it flies off to parts unknown.
By the time I am up and dressed, the birds have fallen silent. An occasional breeze flowing through the canopy of conifers and paper birch breaks the eerie silence, while rays of sunlight pierce through the uneven canopy. It just might turn out to be a nice day after all.
Section Stats:
Date: June 21, 2014
Length: 1.3 miles (1.3 total daily miles; 21.9 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Difficult
Natural sounds are not the only ones breaking the silence though. A revving vehicle engine breaks through the air, violently shattering the visual sense of remote wilderness that surrounds me. Despite the distraction, the need to perform the morning camp chores does not vanish so easily, compelling me to pack up my tarp and start fixing breakfast.
Making my oatmeal takes some careful planning, as wasting a single drop of precious water supply is not an option. After finding a nice spot to sit down, my morning breakfast rituals begin in earnest. Near the site are copious tufts of fur, which I am sure were not present the night before. My guess is snowshoe hare, but whether due to fighting, mating or just mange, it is difficult to discern.
Black flies appear during my breakfast, the cooler temperatures failing to keep them at bay. Their constant buzzing around my head have me performing some rather sophisticated hand gymnastics to thwart them from making a meal of my face. While swatting them around, I notice the widow maker right overhead. Moving now, with breakfast nearly done, seems pointless, and thankfully, I finish my meal without incident.
I did not get killed during breakfast, so it looks like it is going to be a good day, after all.
Taking my time, it takes nearly all morning to finish breakfast, clean up and pack up my campsite. Although the lower temperatures slows down my haste somewhat, the persistent black flies counteract much of its effects. By the time I head for the drainage to Merriam Swamp, the partly cloudy sky has now turned completely overcast.
Maybe the day will not be as good as I thought, after all.
Campsite on ridge
The surrounding forest remains coniferous/paper birch as I head on a bearing of 252 degrees toward the Merriam Swamp drainage. Once moving into the col to the west, the terrain becomes increasingly aggressive, complete with frequent huge boulders, forcing me southward off the ridge. Every attempt to get back on track leads to another round of boulders forcing me further southward again. So, what is this terrain trying to hide?
Finally, the rough terrain becomes slightly more manageable and I can get back onto my original bearing. The conifer forest has given way to a thick and lush hardwood forest, with many smaller boulders and frequent herbaceous growth. The trees are younger here, with the canopy low but thick with lush leaves of maple and paper birch.
The herbaceous cover of fern and other plants is so thick, that it becomes nearly impossible to see where I am planting my feet. I use my hiking poles to part the vegetation as best I can in an attempt to avoid further injury. The soreness behind my left knee from the climb yesterday still bothers me, so I do not need to add a sprained ankle to the mix. That definitely would make today a rotten day.
After a steep descent, I move into a small drainage, with water trickling through a network of small rocks. As I follow the stream down, it becomes larger and the vegetation a little sparser, giving way to smaller pools for water. When the pools get large enough, I stop and settle in for some serious filtering
Rocky portion of ridge
Thick forest near stream
While the skies darken around me, I impatiently wait for the filtering to finish before commencing the descent again. Getting caught in a rainstorm while descending in this dense vegetation is a recipe for disaster; one of which I have no appetite for this late in the trip. Sensing my haste, the black flies move in and cover me as if they are in a rush too. The water cannot finish filtering fast enough.
When my water stores are full again, my journey begins once again. The descent continues for a short time before glimpses of a denser forest in a more level area appear. As I draw closer, the larger trees serve as a sharp contrast to the type of lush forest that has surrounded me since starting my descent.
Beginnings of stream
Spruce/fir is prevalent here, with many paper birches as well. The trees have larger girth, unlike during my trek from the top of the ridge. Open brown areas of exposed forest floor, completely devoid of vegetation abound, some due to saturated soils, others from numerous tip-ups. Between the downed logs and rocky outcrops, the going is another kind of Hell from my more recent decent.
Finally, the source of the saturated soil becomes apparent when I encounter a beaver dam. Not just an ancient dam, but one with more recent additions. Nearby, evidence of beavers munching on tree trunks is apparent, this is no long abandoned pond but one that was largely drained from other reasons. The little open water is brown and murky, giving the whole area a haunted and eerie feel to it.
Staying on the south side of the water, I slowly make my way through a combination of blow downs and a rock field, the only other distraction is hordes of biting black flies. When finally given the choice between a rock cliff and crossing the beaver dam, I choose the less dangerous dam crossing, much to the consternation of a couple of birds that never stop chirping at me. One is probably a northern waterthrush, but the other one remains a mystery.
The beaver dam looks fairly recent, with logs stripped of their bark but looking less aged that I would expect. A breach at the center explains the lack of standing water, with the area showing more mud than water where a beaver pond should reside. Perhaps the same storm that brought the surrounding blowdowns also overloaded the dam’s capacity to hold back the torrent.
Blowdowns at beaver swill
Beaver dam at swill
Soon after crossing the dam, the terrain becomes more aggressive on the northern side of the stream, so I flee back over to the southern shore, which now looks much easier to navigate. Unfortunately, the easier terrain does not last long, but this time it is blowdowns that cause the problem rather than boulders and the like.
The sparse canopy is my first clue of the coming difficulty. The forest is almost entirely paper birch at this point, but gaps in the canopy overhead are frequent, with the large trees, now merely logs, laying criss-cross over each other in a complete mess. My experience with blowdowns causes me to stop and briefly apologize to my shins for the damage I’m about to inflict upon them.
The paper birch forest impacted by blowdowns gives me an idea of where I am now. This storm-impacted forest was pretty evident from the top of Jay Mountain’s exposed ridge back on the first/second day of my trip. Although Merriam Swamp is drawing closer, this painful obstacle is the last thing that stands between me and my final destination for the day.
So let’s get at it!
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