Adventures in the Adirondacks II: Hiking atop Dorset Mountain

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV*

I've been guilty of letting a topic sit on the blogging shelf before but never quite like this.  It's certainly not on purpose or an intentional act, as the subject(s) within this post and the related ones to follow are some of my most memorable and cherished experiences yet.  They are memories I love to sit and reminisce on when I find myself a bit bored or wishing I was outside among the plants and birds.  That all being said, in a weird way I enjoy the delay as it gives me a perfect opportunity to look back and really dive into the details and (finally) share them with my readers.

Rewind nearly a year ago to late May of 2013 and your blogger was back in the southern Adirondacks of upstate New York with dearest of friends, Jackie for another round of botanical adventures in her home area.  Jackie is an incredible naturalist and passionate lover of the outdoors and quite the blogger as I've mentioned before.  If you have never paid her site a visit, I highly recommend spending some time there.  My first trip happened back in the summer of 2012 and I had so much fun we planned another visit, this time in the freshness of spring in northern New York.  You can go back and read about our first day's finds and good times by following this link here.

Low hanging rain clouds over the mountains of the Taconic Range in western Vermont

The second of my three days to be spent wandering the wilderness with Jackie and fellow brilliant naturalist friend, Sue dawned dark with swollen rain clouds rolling through.  Our plan was to make a short drive east into western Vermont to meet up with a group of naturalists for a hike up to an old abandoned marble quarry near Dorset Mountain in the Taconic Range mountains.  The sound of rain off the windows and shutters while we ate breakfast had me nervous the trip might be canceled but never to fear as our intrepid group had no thoughts of giving up.

Hiking up, up, up to the top of the mountain

We donned our rain gear and broad-rimmed hats and ventured into the mists as our hike took us higher, and higher, and higher into the clouds.  The rain was steady at first but eventually slowed to a fine mist before stopping altogether by late morning but the saturated air and foggy conditions never let up.  It prevented any shot at a good view out across the mountain range but created a unique atmosphere that made the greens all the more rich and vibrant and enveloped our group in a sense of mysteriousness.

Round-leaved Dogwood (Cornus rugosa)

Paper Birch (Betula papyrifera)

Throughout the forest was sugar maple, red oak, basswood, paper birch, white ash, and hemlock shrouded in the fog.  Each tree seemed to slowly materialize before your eyes as each footstep brought us one step closer to the top of the mountain.  In shrubbier areas where fallen trees and rock slides had made gaps in the canopy were stands of round-leaved dogwood (Cornus rugosa), a rarity back in Ohio that had always escaped me.

Twisted fruits of the rare rock draba (Draba arabisans)

As our group neared the top and the marble quarry that awaited us, we came across one of the more rare and unusual plants that calls Dorset Mountain home.  The rare rock draba (Draba arabisans) looks a lot like the other small, inconspicuous members of the mustard family (Brassicaceae) when in flower but upon pollination and fertilization its unique fruits come to life in their twisted siliques.  This species is only known to occur in a handful of states in the Northeast and northern Great Lakes states.

Moss and fern covered walls of the abandoned marble quarry

After about a mile and a half and nearly a 1,000 foot climb in elevation, we finally came to the abandoned marble quarry near the top of the mountain.  Decades and decades in the past would have greeted us with a completely different scene when the site was active but nature has an amazing way of "taking" things back when given the opportunity.  The sheer walls of the quarry rose above our heads 70+ feet and supported masses of mosses and ferns from years of desuetude.

Red Baneberry (Actaea rubra)

Red eft stage of a E. red-spotted newt

The precipitous marble walls and thick fog made for a surreal experience upon entering the quarry and its explosion of wildflowers and life.  The air was alive with the songs of birds returned and looking for a mate with scarlet tanager, winter wren, veery, hermit thrush, black-throated blue warbler, black-throated green warbler, parula, and American redstart all adding their own part to the choir.  The moist conditions and humid air made for perfect conditions for the likes of red efts to be out and about and boy were they ever.

Rose Twisted Stalk (Streptopus lanceolatus) 

One of the most pleasant of finds among the marble cobble and rich pockets of accumulated soil was some rose twisted stalk (Streptopus lanceolatus) still in perfect bloom.  This is an endangered plant in Ohio and only known from a site or two in the extreme northeast corner.  I didn't think I'd get to see this lifer due to all the plants at lower locations already being in fruit but the cooler conditions at a higher elevation kept them just right.  Other floral showoffs like foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia), red baneberry (Actaea rubra), mitrewort (Mitella diphylla), round-leaved ragwort (Packera obovata), wood betony (Pedicularis canadensis), and red trillium (Trillium erectum) were mixed in as well.

Large Yellow Lady's Slippers (Cypripedium pubescens)

Beautiful clumps of large yellow lady's slippers (Cypripedium pubescens) glowed like golden beacons from the gloomy forest floor all throughout the quarry and its corresponding slopes.  Despite seeing this orchid dozens of times in previous botanical forays, it just never gets old coming across such a familiar scene and falling in love with the sight of it all over again, each and every time.

Foggy abandoned marble quarry

Huge colony of bulblet fern (Cystopteris bulbifera)

Perhaps the most impressive thing of all about the marble quarry was the explosion of green that filled every bit of your field of vision no matter where your turned and looked.  Wildflowers, trees, ferns, and mosses all added their own unique shade and was only magnified by the fog and residual water droplets.  At the bases and along the steps in the marble walls was a profusion of bulblet fern (Cystopteris bulbifera) that created a thick carpet of feathery goodness you just wanted to lie down and nap in.

Mountain Maple (Acer spicatum) in full flower

Mountain maple (Acer spicatum) and striped maple (A. pensylvanicum) were two of the more common understory trees and both were in full flower with the mountain maple pictured above.

Slender Cliff-brake (Cryptogramma stelleri)

Tucked away in small groupings on the mossy marble walls was a species of fern I'd never seen before in the slender cliff-brake (Cryptogramma stelleri).  It's quite at home in rich, limey areas on moist, shaded, rocky substrates and the quarry had that in spades.  The fronds with skinnier, more narrow pinna are the spore-bearing or fertile fronds while the stubbier ones are sterile.

Hundreds of small yellow lady's slippers covering the lush forest floor

A few years back, Jackie posted a piece on this marble quarry on her blog and for all the reasons shown so far and the many more that didn't make the cut, it was instantly a place I knew I had to see and experience for myself one day.  The one thing that really captured my attention and was the subject of many a daydream was the fact that in select spots within the quarry was hundreds upon hundreds of northern small yellow lady's slippers (Cypripedium parviflorum var. makasin) that literally carpeted the ground in their miniscule wonder.  I tried to picture what it must look like in person too many times to count but none came even close when I finally came upon the majestic scene laid out before me.  I haven't tried to count just how many lady's slippers are visible in this shot but it's safe to say there's more here than I've ever seen and probably ever will!

Nice clump of small yellow lady's slippers

Golden beads in a sea of green

I can't recall a time when my breath became so still and my footsteps so slow and carefully planned.  Even so, it was quite the task to walk among the sea of orchids and keep a light boot in mind.  It was hard to take the eyes off such an unbelievable collection.  A quick whiff of the slipper reveals a potent and sweet aroma reminiscent of vanilla and almonds.  Had the sun been out and temperatures warmer, I can only imagine how their bouquet might have hung in the air.

Looking down into the valley near Manchester, Vermont

Moving further up slope carried us away from the depths of the quarry and out along the edge of the mountain with some still gloomy but better-than-nothing views of the surrounding mountains and valley below.  This final ascent had something very special, very rare, and very tiny in mind...

Triangular-lobed Moonwort (Botrychium ascendens)

Growing on the open, rocky flats near the summit of the mountain was one of the most intriguing, rare, and curious vascular plants I'm sure to ever lay eyes on.  The photo above shows the triangular-lobed moonwort (Botrychium ascendens) in all its miniature glory.  This fern is native to the western United States and even then is a rare occurrence but magically appears in a handful of sites east of the Mississippi as well (all in Canada).  This site in the Taconic Range of western Vermont is, as of now the only site in the entirety of the eastern United States where its known to occur (potentially one more these days?).  Dozens of plants were to be found throughout the immediate area with none much bigger than the specimen photographed.  It was a truly humbling moment to bear witness to such a rare and fascinating little plant.  A feeling unique to botanists and naturalists, I'm sure but a feeling I don't think I'll ever forget.  If you want to read and learn more about this moonwort, feel free to check out this link here (on page seven).

Maidenhair Fern (Adiatum pedatum) 

Goldie's Fern (Dryopteris goldiana)

After getting our fill of the tiny moonworts, our group began the long trek back down the mountain.  I could have easily slipped back into the quarry to spend countless more hours exploring its misty depths and bevy of wildflowers, it was just that mesmerizing and fantastic a site.

A tasty and perfect morel mushroom waiting to be found...and eaten

In the end, our hike had produced unforgettable moments for the eyes, ears, and nose, so it was only appropriate the mountain made one last offering to complete the cycle and give me one for my taste buds too.  The trek down fortuned Jackie and I into some plump, perfectly formed morel mushrooms that we quickly harvested and agreed would find their way to a hot skillet later in the evening.

Jackie and I's bounty of tasty morels!

The best part of the morels was getting a taste later in the season than normal for an Ohioan.  By late May these mushrooms have all but disappeared until next spring for my area(s) of the Buckeye state, so you won't hear your blogger complain one iota about getting one last shot at these delicacies!  True to her word, Jackie fried them up to perfection as an appetizer for our dinner that evening.  What a way to end one of the most incredible days in the field I've ever had.  Jackie truly brings me all the luck in the world and how dearly I love her for that power.

There's still plenty more to come from my third and final day in the southern Adirondacks and I promise not to leave you hanging even a fraction as long.  Thanks for tuning in and keep an eye out for the next post(s) soon!

*Part I* *Part II* *Part III* *Part IV*

On the Road Again (Bruce Peninsula)

On the road again.  That was the theme of the day as I woke up in Hamburg, New York to a bright and sunny morning.  As I scanned through Buffalo's radio stations in an attempt to get my morning dose of Mike & Mike on ESPN radio I half hoped that the whistlin' tune of Willie Nelson singing his 1980 single might come through my cars speakers but no such luck.  While filling up the tank at the last gas station before getting back onto the highway I took a look at my map and projected the days trek.  I own and use a Garmin GPS but there is just something more gratifying and satisfactory about being able to plot your route on paper than through a LCD screen.  The plan was to make the six hour journey up to the peninsula with plenty of time to relax stop along the way at places of interest.  Stop number one was Niagara Falls.  I've been fortunate to have traveled and seen quite a bit of the timeless beauty of our country.  From the virgin rainforests of the Pacific Northwest, to the scorching deserts of Arizona as well as the mountains of Wyoming and Montana, I've experienced my fair share but never the mighty white water and mist of the Niagara.

Niagara Falls from the Canadian side

 
Taking advice from my parents who had seen it themselves years ago, I decided to view the falls from the Canadian side.  I crossed over the border via the Peace Bridge spanning the Niagara River at Buffalo and for first time since I visited Italy in the summer of 2005 I was off American soil.  I know, it's just Canada, about as easy a border transition as possible but nonetheless it was a moment of acknowledgement for myself.  Upon arriving at the falls the first thing I was most shocked by was the extreme amount of hotels, theme parks, resorts and other kinds of tourism.  I've seen and own Ken Burns absolutely remarkable documentary The National Parks: America's Best Idea and heard first hand of the soiling of Niagara's area but I had no idea it was so bad.  Can we leave no natural and beautiful place unstained and untouched by the destructive and greedy hand of man-kind?  As I sat in awe of Mother Nature's raw show of power I can't help but let my mind wander back to a time before the settlement of the area.  Weaving in and out of the towering trees of the primeval forest and hearing a distant roar that grows louder and more ferocious until you break free from the trees and greeted by the sight of the magnificent falls crashing down.  Now only the falls remains with the stain of our presence everywhere.  For those untouched places that remain, long may they stay that way.   As free and wild as the day they were born from the ashes and dust of the earth.

American falls on the U.S. side

Maid of the Mist full 'steam' ahead

Not only is the sheer sight of Niagara Falls impressive but even more so is its history and some of the statistics that go with it.  Over 100,000 cubic feet of water flow over the falls per second, making this the most powerful waterfall in all of the North American continent!  Even more cool about the falls is its relatively fast rate of erosion.  Having that amount of water and pressure going over the falls causes it to erode and retreat further south towards Lake Erie by 3 feet per year.  Even to a human being that is a noticeable increment and not just on a geologic scale.  Over 10,000 years ago as the Wisconsinan glacier shrank north and created the falls of the Niagara, it was located about 6.8 miles to the north of its present location.  If given enough time the Niagara will eventually erode itself back to the point where the city of Buffalo can lay claim to its mighty presence.  As I stood next to the falls and got a bit wet from the constant misting I realized that the bedrock the falls was cascading over was part of the Niagara Escarpement, of which the Bruce peninsula is comprised of.  Interesting to think that this same layer of dolomite limestone laid down 400 million years ago in the Silurian age that belongs to the falls, belongs to the Bruce as well several hundred miles to the northwest.

Leaving the falls behind I turned west and followed the pretty shoreline of Lake Ontario until I hit the outskirts of Toronto.  After the only heavy traffic of the entire trip I made it to the countryside of southern Ontario and made quick time to town of Owen Sound at the base of the peninsula.  Shortly after passing through Owen Sound I got on what would end up being the most familiar road during my time on the Bruce, Highway 6.  The landscape of the Bruce as I made my way northeast was comparable to that of Northern Michigan or Southwestern Minnesota.  Flat with woodlands and wetlands/lakes scattered about.  Most of the land seemed to be utilized for grazing and for wind turbines without much agriculture at all.  As I got closer to the village of Tobermory and the end of the road I began to take notice of the more and more numerous yellow blurs along the highway.  I slowed down enough to I.D. them and feel a sense of shock wash over me.

Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens

Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens

I'd heard the stories of Large Yellow Lady's slippers (Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens) growing by the tens of thousands as roadside weeds on the Bruce but it took seeing it with my own eyes to believe it.  I've seen these numerous times in many of my favorite woodland haunts back home but never more than a dozen or so plants in a population.  On the Bruce they were as common and plentiful as the blue bloomed Chickory (Cichorium intybus) and Red Clover (Trifolium pratense) seen along Ohio's roads.  Not only were their numbers of interest to me but their habitat up here as well.  Every time I've seen this species in Ohio was in mesic, rich forests with dappled sunlight.  On the Bruce clumps of 10-30+ plants grew from the shallow, dry and rocky soil under full sun conditions.  Some even seemed to be growing right out of cracks in the bedrock itself.  Incredible!   At first I couldn't stop taking pictures and admiring the unbelievable numbers of yellow ladies only to by the end of the week not even give them a passing glance.  Who would ever thought I'd almost get tired of seeing a wild species of orchid, and a Cypripedium to boot (no pun intended).

Rosa acicularis

Rosa acicularis

Easily as noticeable as the yellow lady's slippers alongside Highway 6 and the back roads were the tangles and patches of Prickly Rose (Rosa acicularis).  A more northern and western species not known from Ohio, these were in bloom all over the place and their scent was intoxicating.  You could smell these beauties from yards away as the cool lake breezes carried their bouquet to my nose.  Their intensely prickled stem is reminiscent of Bristly Greenbrier's (Smilax hispida) and not something you'd ever want to grab as you lose your step.


After checking in at the small, family run resort along the shores of Big Tub Bay outside Tobermory I decided to take a stroll down the road to see what other botanical goodies laid in wait.  Roadside botanizing back in Ohio is a frequent occurrence for me along the forested dirt roads of Shawnee state forest or the country back roads of Adams and Athens counties but the Bruce really gave this a whole new meaning.

Lonicera dioica

Cypripedium parviflorum var. makasin

Growing all over the place but hardly as invasive as its Asian relatives was the native Limber Honeysuckle (Lonicera dioica) vine.  A rare plant back home that I failed to see in full bloom this spring (seen in bud and fruit in Ohio), I was given a second chance and I took full advantage of it.  Native species of Lonicera are of great interest to me and I had hopes of seeing a few more while up here but L. dioica was the only one in bloom during my visit.  Further down the road the White Cedars (Thuja occidentalis) opened up into a swampy area with Black Spruce (Picea mariana) and Tamarack (Larix laricina) mixed in.  Despite being in shorts and my comfy leather boat shoes I couldn't resist taking a quick look around.  Almost immediately I was pleasantly rewarded with several scatterings of yellow lady's slippers that seemed a bit too small to be the large variety.  A closer examination and quick whiff of the labellum instantly identified this as the deliciously fragranced northern variety of the Small Yellow Lady's slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. makasin).

Cypripedium parviflorum var. makasin

Cypripedium parviflorum var. makasin

This variety is almost identical to the Ohio native and critically endangered C. parviflorum var. parviflorum.  I was extremely lucky to see some of Ohio's last plants in bloom back in mid-May at Cedar Bog in Champaign County.  What true difference there is between var. makasin and var. parviflorum other than its distribution (var. parviflorum is a more southerly, Appalachian species) I'm not aware of.  As you can see from the picture above, these are much smaller than the normal, larger variety var. pubescens.  The small yellow ladies also have much darker maroon lateral sepals/petals as well as that amazing aroma that arouses thoughts of a vanilla and almonds combination.  If Yankee Candle could ever put that scent into a candle I'd buy the store out of stock!

Lilium philadelphicum

Lilium philadelphicum

Further down the road on a more sunny stretch of the shoulder were the first opening blossoms of the gorgeous Wood Lilies (Lilium philadelphicum).  I wasn't able to make time for this in bloom back home so it was once again a welcome surprise and second chance to see these remarkable native lilies begin to break bud on the Bruce.  Threatened back in Ohio, these are much more common up here where they bloomed all week along the roads and in forest openings.

Harsh landscape of the Niagara Escarpment on the Bruce

 
The picture above is a general idea of what the landscape looked like along the western side of the peninsula.  Even after the glaciers scrapped the limestone bedrock clean and thousands of years have passed, very little soil has made it back to surface.  White Cedars, Black and White Spruce (Picea spp.), Eastern Hemlock, Tamarack, Jack and White Pines (Pinus spp.), White Birch (Betula papyrifera) and Choke Cherry (Prunus virginiana) all fight for survival and eek out an existence on the barren, rocky substrate.  Creeping Juniper (Juniperus horizontalis), Bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) and Canadian Yew (Taxus canadensis) were the dominant ground vegetation in areas where flat sheets of the dolomite limestone didn't rule.

Back country road on the Bruce

C. parviflorm var. pubescens on rock

The ultimate reality of the Bruce was just how much of a struggle it is for most of the flora to survive and succeed in such harsh conditions.  The picture above of the yellow lady's slipper growing right up out of the bedrock is mind blowing to me and really is the perfect picture to illustrate the botanical diversity and wonder of the Bruce as well as the daily battle for life.

Little Bay Cove

Little Bay Cove

 



















I decided to end my first evening up on the Bruce with a visit to Little Cove Bay on the eastern side of the peninsula.  The Georgian Bay landscape is more scenic and captivating than the flat and relatively 'boring' western shore for the most part due to the geology of the area.  As the sun began to sink on the horizon I stared out at the crystal clear blue waters of the bay and wondered what events awaited my journey across the Bruce peninsula.  Not another soul stirred along the shore and I felt like I had the whole world to myself.  No trail, no boats, cars or roads.  No airplanes, buildings or bridges; only myself and nature for company and a beautiful tapestry of blue and green in front of me.  I wish more places could be like this.  I wish I could have this experience more often.  Few places and times have ever felt so right in my life and I was only in my first few hours of being in the area.  I slowly strolled back through the Hemlocks and Cedars to the car with visions of tomorrow rushing through my head.  I was off to hunt down the tiny and elusive Ram's Head Lady's slippers (Cypripedium arietinum), one of the most treasured and highly anticipated of plants I've dreamed of seeing for a long, long time.  Tune in tomorrow for the next installment!

Your blogger and a panoramic view of Little Cove Bay