DSettahr
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Loon Lake Mountain wasn't publicly accessible when the Fire Tower Challenge began, and so it wasn't included on the list for the challenge. Well, it wasn't publicly accessible by trail at least, it was possible to bushwhack it without trespassing. Even though not an entry on the official list, it was an entry on my personal list, and I finally got around to climbing it on the second day of the new year.
In researching the mountain, I found a scattering of vague information. I knew where the mountain was, and had a general idea of where to start hiking, but the information I found in various articles and trip reports was lacking in specifics. I knew that the route up the mountain was a bit confusing in spots, but that there had been some flagging (at least there was a year ago). I also knew that I needed to take a left at a prominent junction somewhere, but that was about it. So it was with some anticipation that I might not be able to find my way up the mountain, or even where to start hiking. None of the trip reports, at least, expressed any difficulty in finding the way, so I reasoned it couldn't be that hard to follow.
As noon approached, I found myself driving north on the Port Kent-Hopkington Turnpike (Route 26), past Loon Lake itself. Loon Lake was obviously private with access to the water tightly controlled; even where the road was right against the water I saw numerous posted signs warning against trespassing on the lake, courtesy of the Home Owner's Association.
I had an idea of where the logging road started that I was looking for, based on the National Geographic hiking map, which showed a road leading up the northern slopes of Loon Lake Mountain. It wasn't hard to find the road, and, based on the 3 cars that I found parked along the Turnpike, I was pretty sure I was at the right spot. Just to be sure, I drove a little ways further down, and only saw one other road, just west of the first one, which corresponded to another road on the National Geographic Map that headed west, instead of south towards the mountain. The road is the first gated left after passing the parking area for the fishing access on Grass Pond when heading north on the Turnpike. There is a white sign with red lettering that says “DO NOT BLOCK GATE” in large letters and “NYS Department of Environmental Conservation” in smaller letter beneath. I would have liked to see at brown DEC sign with yellow lettering for “Loon Lake Mountain,” but saw nothing to indicate for sure that I was at the right spot.
The first portion of the hike was on an active logging road. The snow cover here was thin in some spots, non-existent in the rest. As I trudged up the road, passing numerous harvested areas and log landings, I saw occasional orange flagging on the trees. In one spot, a culvert had clogged up, and the associated stream was flowing across the road rather than beneath. I was also glad to see lots of blue flagging, delineating fragile riparian zones which were not to be harvested. From the few permanent hunting stands I saw, I gathered that this area probably gets a fair amount of use from hunting clubs during the open season (or at least it did before the conservation easement). It was also quite windy, and I felt the occasional strong gust as I ascended the road. Presumably, the cold air returning to the north country was wrecking havoc with the warm air from the thaw, and the atmosphere was experiencing quite a bit of turbulence.
From reading trip reports, I knew that I needed to turn left off of the road at one point. Early on, I passed an old logging road that diverged to the left, but didn't look very well traveled at all, and my decision to continue straight was confirmed by the continued occasional orange flagging. A little over a mile in (1.15 miles according to Google Earth), I reached what had to be the junction. It was marked with a small rock cairn supporting a stick with orange flagging on it. Here, the logging road made a 45 degree turn to the right, and began to descend into a drainage. Straight ahead of me was an older logging road, somewhat overgrown with grass, but quite open otherwise. I took this path straight, and again, orange flagging showed me that I was still following the route.
At first, the old road took a bearing straight up against the terrain, but at a steady grade that wasn't too steep. In an old clearing that must've been a log landing at one point, I finally got a view of the mountain itself, and could see the tower off in the distance. I also passed a group of 7 that was on their way down the mountain, and indicated that the snowshoes I was carrying on my back weren't necessary until maybe near the top, but that most of them had made the ascent ok without them. The old road had obviously been closed to logging traffic for some time, but it appeared that ATVs had made regular use of it since. It was in good shape and made for pleasant walking, however.
Soon, I left the recently logged areas behind and entered more mature stands of trees. Here, the old road turned west and angled across the topography. It became quite muddy in some spots, and I found myself kicking leaves and debris loose to facilitate better drainage of the water that was flowing down the trail. Before long, it became obvious that I was no longer hiking on an old road, but rather just a footpath through the woods. Shortly after making this observation, I started to see old telephone poles- remnants of the old telephone line that had serviced the firetower. These poles were marked with orange metal squares. As I continued up the trail, the orange flagging started to become much more prevalent as well.
The trail, now somewhat overgrown, continued to head west across the hill. The northern slopes of Loon Lake Mountain consist of several parallel drainages, and the trail crossed each of these in turn. All of the stream crossings had bridges, but the bridges were in varying states of repair- some in excellent shape, some quite rotten and broken. After having crossed maybe 4 or 5 of these streams, the trail turned south and headed straight up one of the drainages at a pretty steep incline.
By now, I'd gained enough elevation that I was trudging through wet snow. As I continued to climb straight up against the contour, the snow continued to the deepen. The going was slow, as the snow was slippery but not deep enough for snowshoes, and the trail went straight up the mountain. After climbing a good deal, the trail leveled off for a bit, and I stopped to catch my breath. I was, it seemed, at the dividing line between the lower elevation hardwood forests and the conifer forests that are typical of the higher elevations. The wind had died down considerably from when I'd started hiking, and I wondered if it was just because I was more sheltered from it by the mountain, or if the wind had ceased everywhere.
The level terrain did not last long, and soon I was again climbing at a good clip, this time angling more towards the east, and, presumably, the summit. Here, the trail was a mess... eroded, muddy, slippery, and full of slushy snow. I seriously considered donning my snowshoes here, but ultimately decided against it. I'm still not sure, in retrospect, if this was the right decision. The going was definitely easier without them, but the trail is now almost certainly a dangerous frozen solid mess of ice with bumpy protrusions and pockmarked indentations. I did encounter some blowdown on the upper slopes, but nothing major- I only ended up having to crawl beneath a fallen log once, and hop over maybe 2 or 3 of them.
Finally, the trail leveled off, and I could tell that I was on the ridge line, and quite near the summit. I did lose the trail briefly here, but quickly realized my mistake and corrected it. The snow here was probably about a foot deep at the very most, but well packed as a result of the warmer temperatures and my feet sank only an inch or so into it with each step.
Continued...
