Red Horse Creek
Rain delay days in the Adirondack backcountry can sometimes be a drag. This is especially true when caught within a small shelter where you must stay in a prone position most of the time. Fortunately, this is not the case in the Trout Pond lean-to, where I spend my rain delay day after exploring some of the water bodies east of the Red Horse Trail in the southern Five Ponds Wilderness Area. After experiencing rain up close and personal for the last four days, it was smart of me to allocate a single day of my trip for such a purpose.
My night’s sleep was not as restful as I would have liked. I awoke many times and despite intermittent rain and the roar of the creek, my bladder was the cause only a single time. The main culprit was the unforgivingly uncomfortable lean-to floor, which made sleeping on the forest floor for the last five nights seem like a feather bed in comparison. Sleeping on lightweight (i.e. flimsy) mats probably did not help the situation any either.
My achy body made getting up early a difficult task, but then again there is no reason to hurry. When I finally emerge from my sleeping bag it is nearly half past seven and any sense of urgency is nonexistent. The pitter-patter of rain on the foliage keeps my ambition low, so it takes almost an hour before I venture out to retrieve my food bag and start my breakfast.
Section Stats:
Date: July 1, 2015
Length: 0.0 miles (0.0 total daily miles; 34.1 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy
I keep telling myself not to worry about the time, as I have all day. Literally, all day. That is, unless I decide to forego fording Red Horse Creek and detour around it back at Witchhopple Lake instead. In that case, I have one long-ass and wet hike/bushwhack before me.
Either way, there is wet involved, it is just a matter of when.
The choice of whether to ford the raging Red Horse Creek or perform the detour around it is never far from my mind in the morning. I keep weighing the pluses and minuses, as well as scheduling out how long each will take. Like it takes a rocket scientist to figure out that the detour requires more time and effort than fording.
When I convince myself the detour is the more prudent option, I think about hiking up to Witchhopple Lake in between showers and spending the night up there to get a head start. This plan lasts just as long as the next rain shower, as giving up the dry lean-to already is just too much to ask.
Trout Pond lean-to
Although I spend much of my time trying to make a decision on how to spend the last two days of my backcountry adventure, my time is also spent elsewhere. I hang out my tarp in the lean-to, as it is still wet from the previous day’s outings. Between showers, I walk around the area, taking in the sights, given it has been several years since my last visit.
During the rain showers, I mostly write. First, I catch up on my notes, which I have fallen behind on, as usual. Once I get caught up with those, my writing subject changes to other issues on my mind, though mostly outdoor/blog related. The subjects include equipment repairs or new gear (more than I care to mention), Adirondack Almanack article topics (as I was currently frequent contributor then) , future blog posts (I was not yet years behind ), a to do list when back in the frontcountry (really requires a scroll with all the stuff I need to do), information to include in an emergency report (a topic of a future blog post), ways to make money (mostly outdoor related) and how to drive more people to buy products from my blog (come on, people, help a guy out!).
While writing, my little radio is a frequent companion. It keeps me company, as it is the only human voice I have heard for the last seven days. Luckily, I brought enough batteries to use it for entertainment as well as checking the weather. Though I occasionally attempt to use the weather band channels to check the weather, most of the time I just listen to WRVO, the NPR station out of Oswego. Such interesting topics such as normalizing relations with Cuba, The Vapors (a lost homosexual movie from the ‘60’s) and the increase in crime rate come up, not to mention frequent news reports.
View down to Trout Pond
The rain is never far away from my mind however, or from my physical presence. Although not constant, it is frequent enough that I spend the majority of my time inside the lean-to. In the morning, there are a series of light and dark periods, with the rain coming mostly during the darker times. In the afternoon, sunshine appears occasionally, as the cloud cover becomes more broken. More than once, I leave the lean-to and hike around the area, only to flee back to the shelter when it gets dark once again, foretelling the rain’s return.
These periods of sunshine, followed closely by rainy periods, gets me thinking. Based on my previous experience, this phenomenon is quite common in the Adirondack Park. It is almost as if the forest gods are luring people out of their shelters before dropping a deluge on their unsuspecting heads. I coin the term Adirondack-tease, defining it as when on a rainy day, the sun makes an appearance, thus luring one out to perform an outdoor activity only to downpour within 30 minutes afterwards.
Adirondack-teases are in full force today.
When afternoon rolls around and the sun is once again peeking through the clouds, inspiration strikes and I decide to make an attempt to ford the creek before it starts raining again. I change out of my resting clothes and don my bathing suit, my rain jacket and my Crocs; a stylish ensemble indeed. Being as ready as I will ever be, I walk downhill to the edge of the creek ready (maybe?) for adventure.
Downstream on Red Horse Creek
The Red Horse Creek is still raging. I figure if I lose my footing, the worst that can happen is I will be swept out into Trout Pond. Or even worse, maybe hit my head on a rock and knocking myself unconscious, but I would rather not contemplate that scenario. Being swept out into the pond would not be such an issue for most people, but given that I had only learned to swim two years before, it made me more than a little apprehensive. Regardless, I gingerly step into the creek to get an idea of the temperature; my entire body shivering at the bone-chilling coldness of the water.
Slowly, oh so slowly, I work my feet forward through the cold water. My two hiking poles firmly at my sides, providing balance the entire time. The bottom is extremely rough, with rocks everywhere, teetering this way and that depending on where I place my slowly numbing feet. I attempt to keep three of my four anchors (i.e. the two poles and my feet) on the stream bed at all times, allowing only a single one to move forward as I poke along.
Step by step, I make my way across, never feeling as if I will lose my balance, but definitely feeling the pull of the current, especially when trying to move each foot off the creek bottom. When I step off one rock, the water nips at the bottom of my bathing suit, but fortunately that is as deep as the creek gets. My trepidation turns to exhilaration when the water level recedes on my thigh, signaling I am through the worst.
Red Horse Creek crossing
When I finally exit the water on the opposite bank, I am overwhelmed with a feeling of accomplishment. I bested the angry Red Horse Creek and it is time to celebrate! Just before the trash talking begins, I turn around and look back the way I came, and it finally dawns on me that perhaps it is a tad premature to start the festivities.
I still need to redo the creek-crossing feat but in the opposite direction before there is any celebration. Better keep the smack to myself until after getting back to the lean-to AND crossing again with a full backpack tomorrow.
At least the detour around the creek is not necessary; instead the agenda for the remainder of the day is rest, relaxation, and reflection. Now those are three “R’s” I can relate to!
The rest of the day consists mostly of eating, more writing and watching wildlife in between rain showers. The mouse was not seen or heard from last night, and its absence continues throughout the day. Instead an eastern chipmunk picks up the slack, as I watch it use a series of logs to avoid getting wet during a rain shower.
Red Horse Trail trailhead
The avian fauna do a much better job of putting on a show though. A blue-headed vireo gleans within the water-drenched foliage, while an ovenbird, a black-throated blue warbler and multiple Swainson’s thrushes sing throughout the day. A hermit thrush repeatedly lands in front of the lean-to, foraging for food in the leaf litter. After hearing what I discern is an American redstart, I spend a good deal of the day chasing the thing whenever it makes a peep. Finally, later in the day, I spot it in the foliage, verifying my suspicions.
As the day gives way to evening, the intermittent rain continues, but becomes a little less frequent. While eating dinner, a common loon flies over, well above the surrounding canopy, calling frequently. Soon after, I secure my food back in the nearby tree and once again settle in for an uncomfortable night’s sleep.
Tomorrow brings another Red Horse Creek fording and multiple other stream crossings on my long bushwhack toward Hidden Lake during my penultimate day through the southern Five Ponds Wilderness.
I dream that it is a sunny, warm and pleasant one.
Trout Pond
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