Wakely and Pillsbury, or a Tale to Two, too (PART 1)

[ALGonquin Bob]

Wakely and Pillsbury - Adirondacks - Nov. 11-12
This wasn’t a difficult pair of hikes, but I found them to be interesting and thought I’d share my experiences:

For various reasons, I hadn’t done any hiking since my “trip” over the Great Range in August. For this weekend, I had planned a Marcy to Panther Gorge to Haystack route, but it turned out that I needed to be home early on Sunday and didn’t have enough time for that. Then I thought that I’d finally hike up Gore, but there was some e-concern that the summit would be off-limits due to preparation for the upcoming ski season. I nearly cancelled altogether, but decided to hike Pillsbury. I’m glad that I didn’t read the late posts concerning the poor condition of the road to Pillsbury, because I might have cancelled that hike as well.

As I threw my gear together for this long overdue trek, I realized that I would have enough time to do both Pillsbury and a second hike that weekend, so at the last moment I chose nearby Wakely Mountain. Leaving Friday evening, I drove the familiar eastward route on I-90 to Rt. 365, continuing on Rt. 8 to Speculator and then north to Indian Lake. As I drove up Cedar River Road in the dark, I could see remnants of fallen trees on the road. It turns out that, on October 29th, part of the Adirondacks had a smaller version of the heavy snowstorm that the Buffalo area endured in mid-October. Arriving at Wakely Dam about midnight, I could see the warm light of a campfire on a site across the dam, as well as the cold frosty coating on the cars that were parked in the open grassy area just before the bridge. I parked, looked up at the clear starry sky for a while, then settled down in the back of my old Honda wagon for a good night’s sleep.

Since I didn’t need an early start, I enjoyed the luxury of sleeping late, rising a couple hours after the sun at about 8:30 Saturday morning. Sunshine had already warmed me inside the car, so climbing out of bed wasn’t too difficult. After a quick breakfast, I drove the short distance back out to the Wakely trailhead. Although the road back from Rt. 30 had been in very good condition, the TH parking lot still had a tall, narrow evergreen tree lying across it. I began my 3-mile walk to the fire tower on the old road that serves as part of the trail, and found that there was plenty of blowdown (more likely “fall-down” from the now melted snow) at the beginning of the trail. Another obstacle was beaver activity in the form of a dam along the left side. The dam created a pond that was higher than the footpath, and water flowed across the trail that was also blocked by a fallen tree. Walking around the tree through the flooded woods reminded me of conditions that are common on the trail to Bradley Pond (Santanonis)... so no big deal! I was concerned at first that the entire trail would be like that, but I soon passed through the blowdown area and things looked normal again. It was a pleasant sunny day, and I enjoyed my solo walk through the woods.

A cairn marks the path’s exit from the road and the beginning of the “up” portion of the route. Before I began my ascent, I continued on the road to a large beaver pond. Because I saw part of an old camp across the pond, I walked back to check out the remains of a very old house trailer with a small addition that would have had a beautiful view of the pond and beaver lodge.

Back to the cairn and up the trail - the climbing was easy to moderate, with some patches of snow up to about 10 inches deep remaining on the upper elevations. Just before the summit, on a short side trail to the right, is an elevated, very deteriorated, wooden platform. I guess that’s the helipad that the guidebook mentions. I’m not sure why there are still several old barrels on the ground there, but the strong smell of fuel oil lingers. I emerged onto the summit at about 11:45.

The tower wasn’t visible until I entered the clearing, stealing that moment when, hiking in a group, one of us usually has the chance to utter the words, “I see it!”. It’s not your usual Adirondack summit scene, but if you’ve hiked up many fire tower peaks, it’s quite normal. The otherwise wooded summit is occupied by an 80-foot tall tower (the highest remaining in the Adirondacks), an old observer’s cabin, a picnic table, and even an outhouse.

I had lunch at the table while looking up at the tall tower. I tried to imagine climbing the entire 80-foot height on a ladder that was attached to the outside of the structure, as the original fire observers had to do. Most of that ladder is still there - but I used the stairs, climbing up the 10 sets of stairs that lead to the top landing of the fire tower. Final access into the open tower cab is earned by climbing straight up a 7-foot ladder. The tower, stairs and cabin are in good shape, although there are no windows remaining in the cab, and one of the planks on an upper landing sagged when I stepped onto it. Holy s---! There was a good view, but clouds had moved in and I could see rain in the distance. After enjoying the view from the top, I began my descent. The rain soon caught up with me; until then I had been comfortable hiking in just a tee shirt.
TO BE CONTINUED...

 

[ALGonquin Bob]

Part 2

(sorry this is so long)
conuinued...

Now for the really interesting part of the weekend: After hiking out and driving back to Indian Lake, I headed south on 30 toward Speculator. I decided to scout the roads that lead back to the Pillsbury TH, so I headed for the turn onto Perkins Clearing Road that is four miles south of the bridge over the Lewey Lake outlet. Slowing to turn right by Mason Lake, I saw two large trucks stopped at the bottom of the hill, blocking the way up the side road. Both trucks carried a full load of logs, and each was pulling an equally loaded trailer... a “Final Destination” moment! (Remember that movie?) I’m glad that I hadn’t arrived at that junction any earlier – I can’t imagine how it would have been trying to allow them past (maybe “allow” isn’t quite the right word here!) if we had met on the narrow back-country road. I watched as the trucks slowly pulled out onto Rt. 30 and headed south. I drove up the hill toward the Perkins Clearing junction. Just over 2 miles after turning off Rt. 30, I came to a junction with a large parking area. “Perkins Clearing”, I thought, so I turned right and continued up another hill on the dirt road, presumably toward Sled Harbor. This had noticeably more “dirt” than “road”. As I reached the top of the hill, I saw a large clearing... a mud hole... a logging staging area. The logging trucks had come from this spot, and I had to go back down the hill. Not wanting to get stuck in the mud at the top, I deftly backed down the hill and promptly backed myself off the side and into deep, soft dirt. I exited my vehicle and appraised my situation. If I tried to back down any more, I’d end up completely off the road in a 3-foot ditch. And the car was at such a steep angle that I couldn’t go up either. It seems that I was f-----! Good job, Bob. I was wearing my only set of dry clothes, so I pulled on rain pants, put my wet boots back on and started walking in the light rain of the late afternoon. I immediately heard voices - there was a cabin just down the hill. (Sometimes, I’m surprised that I can hike at all with that horseshoe “up there” – you know the expression). I walked down the hill to the driveway, and up to the cabin, where I saw a group of people sitting comfortably out of the rain, under a tarp, and enjoying the warmth of a good-sized fire outside. And oh yeah, there was a dead deer hanging next to the tarp... an 8-pointer taken the previous day... I had entered Deer Camp.

I explained my situation and we exchanged friendly introductions. Without hesitation, one of the men walked to his truck and we were on our way to my car. The 4-wheel drive pick-up would have no problem pulling me up and out of the dirt, but we did have a problem attaching the loop of the tow strap to my car. I think he ended up wrapping it around the axle. I didn’t care – just get my car out of the dirt! Another vehicle drove up to assist, and my Honda was soon extricated. He pulled me up to the mud hole where, of course, I got stuck again, but it was easier to free me up there then than on the hill. I gave thanks to all. One of them said that maybe they should close the gate. “Close the gate!” - reminds me of the same words that were uttered after a friend and I were rescued from the too-deep-to-drive-in snow on Coreys Road (Sewards) late one December a few years ago. Those open gates are just too inviting, I guess. Anyway, as I left my rescuers last weekend, one of the men said, “If you ever get up this way again, we drink ‘BUD’”. Hmmmm.... even though Harry K. wasn’t on this hike, I began to think “beer”.

Continuing my scouting mission, I carefully drove back down the road, and reached Perkins Clearing about a mile and a half further. I found all of the dirt roads there to be in excellent shape, with no sign of the Miami River flooding that apparently occurred just days before. Turning right, I drove across the Miami bridge and toward Sled Harbor. The road was still in great shape, with just a few minor potholes and some rocks jutting out of the surface to maneuver around. I decided that when I returned here Sunday morning, I’d park on the shoulder of the road by the large clearing and walk the extra mile or so up to the trailhead.

With daylight waning, I headed out to Speculator for some dinner. Back in town, I had two slices of the world’s thinnest pizza (extremely thin, but not in a good way – like cheesy cardboard) and purchased a 15-pack of cold Budweiser. In the early evening darkness, I drove back to “deer camp” with my offering of malt and hops. When I reached the unmarked junction, I stopped my car in the darkened parking area and started to look for my headlamp. Just then, I saw a vehicle drive down from the cabin. It was my new friends, wondering who had come to visit. I handed them the gift of beer, and was invited to partake with the others. I grabbed my light and rode back up to the cabin with them. They admitted that they had never expected to see me again; the mini case of Bud was much appreciated, and I was invited inside. They were just finishing their meal of stew, but having just filled up on pizza-lite, I declined their offer for dinner. Hey! It just occurred to me as I write this, that it wasn’t necessarily “beef” stew that they were eating... Everyone was very friendly and I was introduced to the others, including “Guitar Dave”, who was playing an electric guitar through a battery-powered amp. No electricity there - it was all batteries and propane. A long row of camo jackets hung along the wall, and we all visited for a while as I drank a couple of the Buds. I stopped at just two, not wanting to repeat my earlier feat.

We said our good-byes and I was on the road again, headed to my campsite for the night. I had seen a campground on Rt. 30, right on Indian Lake where the Lewey Lake outlet passes under the highway. There were many good sites since the campground was closed for the season (that is, FREE!). It was so dark, that I had a little trouble finding the entrances to the different sections. As I finally pulled into a spot on the lake, I saw a tent on the adjacent site, so I tried to be quiet. In the morning, I realized that the dome tent that I saw nearby was a big round boulder. Yeah. I hit the sack before 8:30 Saturday night, so I would be able to easily rise early in order to hike and be back in Buffalo by mid-afternoon.

After another good rest, I got up at sunrise Sunday and drove up to Sled Harbor. The all-night rain had stopped, and the back roads remained in excellent shape all the way in. This leg of Perkins Clearing Road begins 4 miles south of the Lewey Lake outlet. It’s 3.3 miles from the highway to Perkins Clearing, and an additional 1.7 miles to Sled Harbor (the clearing). Note that each junction where you would need to turn is prominently marked with a D.E.C. sign. Don’t turn up any unmarked dirt roads! After parking my low-clearance Honda, I grabbed my daypack and began my walk. If I had a truck or SUV, it would have been quite easy to drive all the way to the trailhead. Because the final section of the road (just over a mile) was steep in places, and a little rough, my car would have had a hard time reaching the end of the line. It took about 30 minutes to walk up to the trailhead, passing a few nice roadside camping areas and an occasional large puddle across the road. Upon reaching the register, I saw that a van and two SUVs were there. Nobody had signed the trail register - I would be alone on the trail again the entire time. I wish that I had brought the blaze-orange hat I’d bought last November for hiking in hunting season. As it was, the only hat that I brought was a brown knit cap (all I needed was a little white tuft on it, and I’d be an ideal target!), and it was too warm to wear that. I guess that I shouldn’t complain about hiking in mid-November in a tee shirt and no hat and being quite comfortable. The trail immediately descended and crossed a stream (the Miami River!). The trail was quite wet, like hiking in late spring. The trail leveled, then became a steady, moderate climb until just below the top as it reached a plateau. A final steeper section then took me up to the summit and tower. The observer’s cabin here wasn’t in quite as good condition as the cabin on Wakely. I climbed the tower to the uppermost landing (the cab is closed), and took one picture of the cabin below. There was so much fog that I could see the cabin and not much else. A brisk 60-minute descent returned me to the trailhead where a few hunters were on their way out as well. Although it didn’t rain at all that day, the foggy conditions made for an all around wetter hike than the previous day.

So that was my eventful weekend. Two days. Two hikes. Two fire towers. Two “ADK Hundred Highest” peaks. Two “check” marks! And two Buds with some new friends. I went to work the next day and bought a 25-foot tow strap with hooks on each end that fit the loops under my car – might as well make it easier for the next rescuer to pull me out of my predicament. And with winter nearly here, I bought two new tires to help get me out of snowy parking lots when I head for the mountains again to work on my “W”.
-See ya’

 

[slamdog]

A stones throw!

Bob,
Great trip report on a beautiful area. Remember that Ward (Malcolm) and are just down the street on Route 30. I think I even gave you his number. You're always welcome to a warm bed and home cooking. Unfortunately, the pizza at four corners is a litttle weak. We wound up dining at the Oxbow that night ourselves. Glad your new friends helped you out. I like to think that everyone up around there is as nice as they were. At least that's been my experience. Keep the trip reports coming! One of these days we'll have to get out there. L