Lower Higby Twin Pond outlet

Being awaken by an alarm is never the best way to greet the new day, especially so when out in the remote Adirondack backcountry, but at times it is a necessity. Unfortunately, with a wet forecast for the next few days starting this afternoon and an aggressive schedule for a nine-day journey through the southern Five Ponds Wilderness Area, this is one such time. If I am going to make it from lower Higby Twin Pond to Negro Lake before the heavy rains arrive, it requires an early morning start, at the very least.

When my radio’s raucous staccato of an alarm blares into my ear without mercy, it is so early that darkness still shrouds the outside forest around my shelter, without even a hint of the morning sun, which is still an hour or so away. The harsh sound not only wakes me but probably scares every living thing within a mile or so of my campsite along the northern shore of the lower Higby Twin Pond. Say good-bye to any chance of seeing any interesting wildlife in the area this morning; too bad it cannot scare away the approaching rain storms or the biting flies as easily.

Section Stats:
Date: June 27, 2015
Length: 0.9 miles (0.9 total daily miles; 13.3 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy

It takes only a few moments for me to shake the sleep from my head however, allowing me to start packing up my sleeping stuff in the darkness, with only a small headlamp providing any light. No time to lollygag this morning, as rain clouds are creeping closer and there is another long day ahead of me, one that I hope I can finish without getting wet. With wet conditions forecast for the next five days, it is important to take advantage of every opportunities to stay dry as possible.

My need to relieve myself, already hours overdue, helps to motivate me forward despite the cool temperatures, currently in the low 50’s. Despite the chill in the air and the surrounding darkness, the mosquitoes remain lurking on the netting of my shelter, awaiting my exit so they can have their breakfast before I get to have my own.

Some thoughts from last night begin to creep into the forefront of my mind while packing. The premiere audio entertainment during the night came from a common loon, as its call echoed through the surrounding forest. It was not on lower Higby Twin Pond however, but off to the south, probably down at Witchhopple Lake. Maybe I will see it when I get down there later this morning.

The cacophony at the lower pond last night was dominated primarily by frogs. The spring peppers never stopped the entire night, with some still calling this morning. Along with these little tree frogs, both the banjo twang of the green frog and the deep base of the bullfrog rang out too. If they could all work as a team, they would make one Hell of a band.

Wasting no time, I pack up my shelter and prepare a cold breakfast of cereal. If I am going to avoid the potentially heavy rain later this afternoon, staying focused and avoiding any distractions has to be the name of the game today. A few distractions, when warranted, may be tolerated however, as long as the sky avoids looking catastrophic.

With my gear packed up, and breakfast churning in my stomach, it is time to head out, with my initial goal being the Red Horse Trail. Once there, a long bushwhack all the way to Negro Lake will soon follow, the lake being my ultimate goal for the day. An old cabin site on a peninsula along the northern shoreline makes for an ideal destination, but I am not above abandoning that idea if an unusually nice campsite turns up along the shore of the large lake. Regardless of my camping spot, making it to the lake before the rain catches up with me is an imperative.

The coniferous forest along the pond’s northern shoreline forces me to get my bushwhacking legs quickly; while the short ups and downs wake up the legs still trying to recover from yesterday’s arduous bushwhacking marathon. By the time I reach the northeastern tip of the pond my legs are feeling much stronger, though perhaps still not completely ready for the task ahead.

Start of Lower Higby Twin Pond outlet stream

The lower Higby Twin Pond outlet makes an ideal guide down to the Red Horse Trail, as it descends through mature hardwood forest until emptying into Witchhopple Pond. The outlet flows from the pond along a rock cliff initially, making it most difficult to follow, while some downed trees provide some added obstacles, which add to its very wild character. Once the stream gets farther away from the pond, it flows over open rock with little gravel or sand substrate.

Finally, it is easy enough for me to follow!

Before long, the going gets much steeper, forcing me to move off away from the stream a little. Fortunately, the roaring sound of the water over bare rock makes it easy to follow, even when it is not in sight. The forest quickly transitions from coniferous dominated to almost completely hardwood within a short distance from the pond. Almost ideal bushwhacking conditions, if not for the slope.

The stream winds its way down the steep terrain, while I do my best to follow it. About half way down to the lake, the terrain levels off for a short distance, allowing me to step up my pace for a while. It does not last long unfortunately, as the steep slope begins anew, ending only when it finally levels off as the forest returns to a more coniferous nature, including many eastern white pines.

Log across stream

Ahead, through the trees, Witchhopple Pond appears, the rising sun reflecting brightly off its surface and into my eyes. As I draw closer, confusion takes ahold of me, as another more substantial stream appears in front of me coming from the north. Could I have taken a wrong turn or did I stumble into a stream equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle?

A quick view of the map clues me in; the Higby stream is not the only inlet to Witchhopple, as it only one of two that flows into a small bay at the west end of the lake. The other inlet stream, this one from Clear Lake to the north, also flows into the bay, while an outlet exits from it as well, along the southern shore, flowing down to Salmon Lake.

The mental distraction of the multiple streams comes to an abrupt end when I realize I am standing on bare ground.

For the first time in years, I am once again standing on the Red Horse Trail.

Witchhopple Lake

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