Negro Lake
Following along an old road north of Negro Lake in the southern Five Ponds Wilderness was my easy route to a peninsula along the lake’s shore where once stood an old cabin site. Unfortunately, I bailed on the old road where it crossed a wetland and instead bushwhacked around it, now forcing me to relocate the road before the forecast heavy rain ensues. Reaching this cabin site has been the over-arching goal of this trip, as it represents the farthest east that I plan on journeying for this trip, in theory, if not quite in fact.
Before my reunion with the old road is possible, my video camera battery gives up the ghost, forcing me to make a brief stop to swap it out with a new one. It does not take long, and soon I am bushwhacking through thick young conifers again as mature hardwood trees tower above me in the forest’s overstory. My rendezvous with the old road seems as if it should be near, but when rocky cliffs appear to the west, I start thinking it may be farther away than I thought. As if answering my prayers, I finally regain the old road, or some remnant of an even older skidder road; it is exceeding difficult to determine which one.
The old road, or whatever it is, begins to fill with a lot of young tree growth, making it difficult to follow. In other places, it appears more trail-like, so I can pick up my pace a little and make better time. The thought that rain is getting closer with every single step keeps my focus on making steady progress rather than sightseeing, so as the road skirts the edge of a wetland, I do not even give it a second thought.
Section Stats:
Date: June 27, 2015
Length: 1.0 miles (7.4 total daily miles; 19.8 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy
The road continues downhill, occasionally wet in places, while in others, drier but full of dense young growth. With each step, I become more confident that I am on the main road, based on the vegetation growth pattern as well as the hard surface underfoot. A garter snake slinks off into the surrounding forest, likely picking up the vibration of my feet through the dense substrate.
When thick, young conifers fill the road once again, I slow down and do my best to work my way through them. When I pause I can hear the sound of running water, which makes me question again whether I am still on the old road or not. Soon the road runs straight into a beaver dam, complete with multiple streams flowing through it and down to the east. At this point, my concern about the road’s identity metamorphoses into downright doubt; perhaps this is not the main road after all.
This doubt partially melts away when I see a rusted metal culvert sticking out of the dam on its downslope side, where numerous streams flow through the leaky dam. Rocks line the rivulets with a few open pools along the way. The number of rocks makes me think that perhaps they come from the fill that was used to build the road many years ago.
After gingerly cross below the dam, there is nothing even resembling a road on the other side. I scan the surrounding area and still find nothing road-like. Instead of searching further, I bushwhack through the forest in the general direction I had been traveling before crossing the dam, hoping to catch up with the road at some point. As I move through the forest once again, it finally dawns on me that I let my blind focus to reach the cabin sit suppress my curiosity so thoroughly that I never even checked out what was on the other side of the dam.
Pond, swamp, seep? I will never know.
It takes a short while to hook-up with the old road again, despite the thick conifer saplings cover restricting both my movement and visibility. The road continues downslope, occasionally open and easy going, other times with thick young conifers making progress a little more arduous. Most of the time, a footpath is obvious, making route-finding almost completely unnecessary.
By the time I notice a large bear scat, the trail along the road is very obvious. Soon after, a bird scolds me, requiring me to stop and attempt to find it, or its nest, but I am woefully unsuccessful. After scanning the hardwood overstory one more time for the bird, I pick up the pace and start following the obvious footpath with a confident stride of a bushwhacker that no longer needs to do any bushwhacking. Not even a large log across the trail slows my pace now. I find it likely that the road should provide an easy route to the old camping site along the northern shore of Negro Lake, as long as I do not miss the side road down to it.
Old road
After going a short distance farther, I observe a green object near the trail up ahead. The size and brightness of color suggest a tent. Who would be camping out here? Other than me, that is.
As I draw closer, it turns out not to be a tent at all, but a giant plastic barrel instead, with a black top, and it is not alone. Nearby is another green barrel and a brown metal folding chair leaning against a tree. One of the barrels is caught under a downed tree that has fallen over the trail. The barrels appear empty as they are easy enough to shake, and neither makes a sound when I do so.
The oddity of these artifacts begs for a few photographs. Often, I find metal drums out in the backcountry, typically serving as stashes for hunters, apparently so they do not have to lug their equipment out in the woods every season. This habit is antithetical to most backpackers, as we carry all our gear on our backs every single day. Since both of these barrels appear empty, they were most likely abandoned years ago.
A few photographs later, I am hiking down the old road once again, occasionally passing an old cut log, suggesting this part of the road has gotten some use since being abandoned. However, the logs are generally old and rotting, indicating the maintenance is many years old. Given the barrels, the chair and the cut logs, this old road probably got more use in the past than it does today.
Green barrel
Another green barrel & folding chair
After hiking a little further, a rock cliff makes an appearance on the left, striking enough to demand a few photographs. The road goes right up to the base of the cliffs, with the rocky wall retaining its presence for a good distance before finally petering out. Luckily, frost heaving has not made the road into a rock falling zone, as I do not need any more obstacles in my path.
Soon after the cliff fades away, the road starts getting a little harder to follow, with more growth and downed logs blocking my progress. The slower going gives me extra time to recognize a side trail to the east though, which is a little more obscure than the main road I am currently on. The main road continues straight ahead and down slope, while the side road, goes upslope and curves around a bend to the east.
Old road
After consulting the GPS, which has the main road on its installed map, I decide to continue on as this side road does not look as if it leads to an old camp site on a peninsula, but it is very close. Just a little farther there should be another side road to the right. I decide to wait until that one presents itself. Hopefully, it will.
A short distance farther and a second side road appears to gradually veer off to the south. After another GPS consult, I decide this is most likely the proper side road down to the old cabin site, so I proceed to follow it south. Soon the side-road comes to a Y in the road, where one continues southeast and the other takes a hard right south. Since the peninsula is south, I turn right as the new road cuts through the surrounding terrain and Negro Lake appears through the trees, my first view since originally discovering the road.
While descending, and after climbing over a downed tree, I spot a rock within the leaves on the ground that would be perfect to hang my food rope. Given that I had forgotten to pick one up earlier in the day, I stoop down and grab it from its location and take it along with me. Hopefully, the rock, and the organisms underneath it, do not mind.
Cliffs along old road
Young conifers dominate the understory on both sides of the road as I approach the open water. Above, large hemlocks and white pines own the overstory, while the understory thins out as I continue toward Negro Lake, becoming mostly young maples near the shoreline. Unfortunately, the old road appears to end near the water’s edge, west of the peninsula, and not at the end, which is what I would expect.
From this location, Negro Lake spreads out to the west, with several low mountains in the background, giving the setting a very remote wilderness feeling. A small forested island lies near the northern shore about half way down the lake. The sky is gray above the water, with an occasional darker wisp of a cloud below the overcast, slowly moving toward me. The water does not look especially dark to me, but perhaps that requires the proper weather conditions to notice.
Perhaps the lake got its name from a more offensive reason than the darkness of its waters. I believe in years past, its name was even more offensive than it is today.
Although the lake is attractive, the peninsula demands exploration. A ridge dominates the peninsula, with large hemlocks standing along the slope near where the old road ends, ancient sentries looking over the large lake. Other types of conifers dominate on top of the ridge that runs along the peninsula, with many downed young conifers on the ground, but almost no understory.
I climb the ridge through the majestic conifers, following the many intertwining herd paths through the ground-level vegetation. If the road does not get me to the peninsula’s end, then I will have to improvise as best I can.
Island on Negro Lake
While climbing the ridge, I find a green plastic soda bottle in one of the few bushes scattered about. I stop and pick it up despite all the evidence of chewing covering it. Just a short ways further on one of the many herd paths, I find an old metal Pepsi can lying on the ground. I decide to pick that one up later, perhaps upon my return trip back to the end of the road.
As I reach the top of the peninsula, I stop recording my video, so I can explore some more and try to find a suitable campsite for my tarp that can weather the forecast heavy rains to come. With the undulating terrain, the down logs, the young trees and the sticky conifer needles, this might actually take some doing.
It has been a very long day, starting early this morning back at the lower Higby Twin Ponds and ending here at the Negro Lake peninsula that once supported an old cabin from days past. Although it took a long time getting here, I did so without getting caught in the forecast heavy rain. Now all I need to do is put up the tarp and do some camp chores, and I will be done with the day’s main tasks.
Hopefully, the peninsula will provide me a dry site in which to do so.
Affiliate Disclaimer: Some links and advertisements on this blog post and elsewhere on the Bushwhacking Fool may send you to a retailer’s website. If you chose to purchase any product on that site, this author may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you. These commissions provide compensation for the author’s time and effort necessary to provide the content at the Bushwhacking Fool. If you enjoy the content on the Bushwhacking Fool, please show your appreciation by purchasing products through links and advertisements on this site.
