Pharaoh Lake via Mill Brook Trail

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jbrown

New member
Joined
Sep 10, 2003
Messages
494
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30
Location
Syracuse, NY
06/23-06/24
Trail Conditions:
Trail was in great shape for the most part, a couple of mud holes, but for the most part dry and firm. I love the new "duck-boards" just before the trail register, thank you a thousand times to the crew that installed this!

Starting at about 7:00 a.m. from the parking lot at the end of the maintained road, the bugs were horrible. I could see them attacking the windows on my car as I woke up and prepared to leave. They slowly died off as I got closer to Pharaoh Lake and when I was actually out on the water they were gone completely. (Oh, did I mention I hauled in my kayak on a cart? It's an Old Town Double Helix, not exactly ideal for a portage, but it's what I have. Yeah, if you do that, make sure you have at least 20" wheels, 10" wheels make for some bad mudhole navigation and rock-hopping.)

Special Equipment Required:
Headnet, long-sleeves, pants, gaiters, DEET for any exposed skin...all essential for much of the trail.

Comments:
I arrived at the trailhead at about 10:30-11:00 thursday night and spent a fitful night sleeping in the backseat of my honda; not a good fit for a 6'1" 200 lb guy. Woke up once in the middle of the night to a great thunderstorm with some low rumbles of thunder in the distance, lightning was at least 5 miles away.

Up at 6:00, had some Dunkin Donuts coffee that I got in Fonda on the way there; just had them put it right in my thermos.

By 6:30 I was sufficiently awake and fed to get dressed and prepare to meet the bug onslaught.

7:00ish, dressed, kayak on the cart with about 1/2 of my gear in it, the other 1/2 in my daypack on my back. I used the haul loops on the pack and an Omega Big Jake 'biner to hook to the bow carry loop.

Hiking along the jeep road, I didn't realize how quiet I was being until I spooked a couple of whitetails that jumped up from about 20 feet off the trail and ran off. That really woke me up!

Most of the trail was actually pretty easy to move on even though the cart wheels are only 10". The worst section with the cart was actually the duck boards in the beginning. The wheels are about a foot wider than the boards so I had to lift the stern and push the bow along the boards. Not too bad, just a little more effort than I anticipated.

Stopped at the Pharaoh Lake Brook bridge crossing to check out the beaver dam, holy crap that thing is tall!

Arrived at Pharaoh Lake outlet at about 9:30, not bad for dragging about 100lbs worth of kayak and gear 3.6 miles, I think...

I moved most of the gear from the stern seat to the bow seat, inverted the cart and strapped it on the bow over the gear and took off toward the point and lean-to #5. Saw a loon diving for his morning breakfast and played tag with him (or her) for a little while, never coming within 100 yards of him. He laughed at me a couple of times in that way that I love to hear on a cool Adirondack morning.

Passed lean-to #6, so THAT'S where it is!

As I approached lean-to #5 I saw that it was occupied, but I was only planning on staying near it on the peninsula.

Beached the kayak, off-loaded the gear and proceeded to set up my hammock and tarp in a perfect spot under the big pines on the point.
I had the rest of the day to run around the lake, explore the islands, (I didn't realize how many there are!) take lots of pictures and get sunburn on my feet. Saw a family of common mergansers at the northeast end near the group of boulders in the cove up there; momma and about 6-7 youngsters spooked and took off from the cleft of the rock startling me. Dad proceeded to lead me on a course away from them around a dead beaver lodge behind the boulders and I let him.

When I got back to my camp later on, I walked over to the lean-to so I could see if anyone was still there and let them know that I was staying nearby. I met Joe, an older man who looked like he had spent a great deal of his life (at least 74 years according to the timeline of one of his stories) hiking the woods. I later met his friend and lifelong hiking companion, Jane when she dropped by my camp and sat down for a chat. Joe and Jane proved to be fascinating people who had hiked together with Jane's late husband, Tom, for many years until Tom passed away 2 years ago. Joe still hauls the gear so they can get there, and Jane spends most of her time "sun worshipping" which involves a lot of skinny-dipping and clothing-optional sunbathing. I tried to give her a lot of space to enjoy her activities. :) They were both involved for years as some kind of hut caretakers in either the Whites or the Greens, there were so many stories that intertwined that I had a hard time keeping the details straight.

There was one notable exception, however.

Joe told me about his meeting with Noah John Rondeau in the Cold River area back in what I'm guessing was the early to mid 50's. He actually helped NJR move out of his hermitage when pursuing the show-biz circuit of sportsman's shows. I was awed to have met a man who seemed so steeped in Adirondack history and lore.

In addition to the great pleasure of meeting Joe and Jane, I was treated to the sight of a mother snapping turtle just covering her nest of eggs. Her back-end was still in the hole, but the eggs were covered over. I could even pick out some old shells in the hole indicating that this was her spot of choice for years. Her shell was about 12-14" long and I was hoping to get a picture of her with her neck extended, but she just looked at the stick I waved and didn't snap at it. I laughed like crazy when she finally moved from the nest and launched herself down a 10' precipice, rolled in the leaves and duff at the bottom, righted herself, slid down another 4' ledge, tumbled in some rocks, splashed down in the lake and disappeared almost immediately.

Friday night I slept with the wind rocking my hammock, a slight sprinkle of rain dripping off the edges of my tarp, and the remnants of Johnny Cash singing old hymns in my head.

Saturday morning was frosty and clear. I woke once around 6:00, saw frost on the ground I think, and rolled up tighter in my sleeping bag. I finally got up at about 9:30 with a headache and a little nauseous. Ate some breakfast anyway and was on my way down the lake at about 11:20 after saying goodbye to Joe and Jane who were having breakfast on the point.

The morning quickly got very warm which was exacerbated by the head-net I was forced to don after a short while after hitting the trail back to the car, and further exacerbated when I rolled my sleeves down. I think I was partially dehydrated and may not have slept well, because I've never been so exhausted. I had to stop altogether a couple of times and just sit in the kayak while my stomach calmed down. Finally, I just dropped all my gear, leaned over a couple of rocks on the side of the trail and lost my lunch. Well, actually I just lost my iced-tea, but you know how the expression goes. After about a 5 minute nap I felt much better, and continued after tossing the head-net in the bow seat and rolling my sleeves up.

I reached the car at about 2:00, I think, and was on the road after chugging ¾ of a 1 quart Gatorade.

The time I spent on the lake in the kayak, sleeping on the point in a hammock and meeting Joe and Jane were wonderful. I don’t foresee bring a kayak back in until I get bigger wheels for the cart and a much lighter kayak.

Well, that’s the longest trip report I’ve ever done. I hope someone found it somewhat interesting and enjoyable.

Happy trails!

Josh
 
jbrown said:
Saw a loon diving for his morning breakfast and played tag with him (or her) for a little while, never coming within 100 yards of him. He laughed at me a couple of times in that way that I love to hear on a cool Adirondack morning.
The "laughing" call (proper name, tremelo) is an alarm call--it means the bird is nervous, threatened and/or frightened. Loons are very intolerant of humans (and a lot of other animals...). If you stress the bird too much, it will abandon its nest.

Ref: http://millcitymusic.com/item/NAS-1001

Doug
 
Last edited:
Your news of "bugs" is not very good. I'm planning on doing a 10 mile loop hike of that region sometime next week. Maybe they will have abated a bit by then
 
Yeah, they were really bad. I didn't mention that I didn't see any blackflies. They were about 85% mosquitoes, 10% deer flies and 5% horseflies. The mosquitoes were landing on my sleeves and pants probing for any weaknesses. I sat and watched one try about 10 different spots before I killed it.

The "laughing" call (proper name, tremelo) is an alarm call--it means the bird is nervous, threatened and/or frightened.

So in the early morning hours when a bird is out in the middle of the lake with no humans on the water or even within 1/2 mile of them, and they give that "alarm" call, they're doing it because they're "nervous, threatened and/or frightened?" Every loon I've ever heard must have been scared all day every day.

Sorry, just doesn't make sense to me.
 
DougPaul said:
The "laughing" call (proper name, tremelo) is an alarm call--it means the bird is nervous, threatened and/or frightened.
jbrown said:
So in the early morning hours when a bird is out in the middle of the lake with no humans on the water or even within 1/2 mile of them, and they give that "alarm" call, they're doing it because they're "nervous, threatened and/or frightened?" Every loon I've ever heard must have been scared all day every day.

Sorry, just doesn't make sense to me.
Maybe Loons are just very nervous birds. They are very territorial--they need a lake/pond of a certain size to obtain enough food (fish) to raise young and will fight over ponds, etc. And they can be nervous about other things besides humans (predators, etc). (I have seen and heard them utter alarm calls as an aircraft flew over.) They also don't allways tolerate other waterbirds. (They have been known to spear them from below with their beaks...)

My info is from "Voices of the Loon" by William Barklow, pub by the North American Loon Fund. Presumably he knows what he is talking about. (Or at least the current understanding of the loon calls.)

From the same source, they have 4 basic calls:
* wail (long drawn out note), interaction with another loon call
* tremelo (laugh), alarm call
* yodel (seagull like), male only, fighting call
* hoot (very short), contact (with another loon) call
The calls can be combined--the tremelo-wail ("I'm nervous--where are you?) is very common.

I have heard all in the wild except for the yodel.

Doug
 
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