[img:big-buck-photo.jpg]You can imagine that as editor of a statewide hunting andfishing publication, I see my share of big buck photos. And over the course of my newspaper career I've always been a hands-on kind of editor, so I manage to grab a camera with some regularity still and snap a few shots of big deer, big fish and turkeys.

Sometimes – usually during spring gobbler season – I even end up on the other side of the camera. But it sure hasn't happened for me this deer season, as I've struggled to fill a tag and, even as I write this, am planning to jump out this afternoon in an effort to find a buck. At this point in the season, any buck. They're all trophies now as the next-to-last weekend of the firearms season winds down.  

Things have, however, been heating up in the deer woods, as they always seem to do when the temperatures drop and the bucks are on the prowl for willing does. Some of the best bucks of the season are killed later rather than sooner, and that seems to be the case again this year. 

While I've been beating my head against an oak tree trying to find a buck, the stories keep rolling in all around me. A friend connecting on a big-bodied seven-pointer (5 on one side and 2 on the other) way back inthe high country of the Lake Placid and Whiteface regions, necessitating agrueling, 8-hour drag out of the woods that wasn't completed until the following morning. A neighbor scoring on a fine 8-point not far from where I'd been hunting, filling his tag while I was 300 miles away for the Southern Zone opener. Another friend who, home from college for the Thanksgiving holiday, finally got out and in the first hour of his hunt downed a beautiful 10-pointer that will likely score in the 150s. Sometimes it happens that way. I'm trying to convince myself it could happen to me later today. 

And just as there are big-racked whitetails in the high country, there are also corn-fed beauties along Lake Champlain and in the Schroon Lake Region, in spots like the sprawling Pharoah Lake Wilderness Area. 

Even on Thanksgiving Day itself, I was pressed into duty –with pleasure – with news of Jesse Napper's spectacular 11-point buck, the first ever for the 16-year-old. 

It started harmlessly enough; I was working cleanup duty at a church dinner when his aunt arrived with news that her nephew had killed a big buck. She even had a photo of it on her digital camera. 

When she showed me, I wasn't sitting down. I should have been. It wasn't just a "big buck." This one was something special, a big-bodied, heavy-racked, long-tined monster that weighed in at a field-dressed189 pounds and will almost assuredly score in the 150s when someone puts a tape measure to the massive rack. 

I had to see this one myself, and hustled up the road to the farmhouse the hunters had gathered. This was a big deal for any hunter, but especially for a 16-year-old tagging his first buck. I made sure he was aware of that, even driving back home to fetch a couple of cameras for a photo session, then listening to him re-tell the story of his Thanksgiving morning success. You'll see a photo and story in an upcoming issue of New York Outdoor News. 

I didn't have to ask Jesse to smile for the camera. 

And who knows? Deer-hunting lightning can strike at anytime up here. Some big bucks are still out there. 

Maybe I'll need someone to take my picture. 

[img:CrowfootBrook.jpg] I found the trail to Crowfoot Pond by driving a back road at about thirty miles an hour. The trail leaves the Tracy Road in Moriah at the northern end of the Hammond Pond Wild Forest. At a spot where the road takes a sharp turn to the left, a DEC trail sign on the right marks the turn to an ample parking area.  (44.04.335'N, 73.37.778'W)    

The trail along Crowfoot Brook begins with a disheartening washed out bridge but that should not deter anyone. Judging from the river debris hanging in the trees at a height of about six feet, I suspect Hurricane Irene was to blame. A short detour brought me to a crossing upstream. The new ice on the cobbles looked tricky but proved safe. It's probably not so safe with more water. 

 

[img:Wintergreen.jpg] Beginning from my first step on the far shore I found myself loving this trail. Starting out into a hemlock forest the trail heads uphill close enough to the brook to hear it's chilly gurgling. Funny in November to see so many summer plants. Many stay green under the snow -- goldthread, partridgeberry, wintergreen, foamflower, pipsissewa, and the different club mosses. The true mosses look like miniature forests--very festive with the morning's snowflakes.

     The Crowfoot trail crosses back and forth over the brook on nice wide bridges that are open to snowmobiles in winter according to the DEC maps. There's a hunting lease that crosses the trail about two-thirds of the way to the pond. It's well marked and I had no problem respecting the line, especially since it's still hunting season technically. The yellow state trailmarkers are clearly hung.

Crowfoot Pond itself was completely black and white on Tuesday. There is a new cover of snow on what is obviously still very thin ice. The open water is black and clear. Soon to be black ice for backcountry skating we hope.

[img:CrowfootBrooktrail.jpg]Why hike this trail? Low elevation, wide trail, varied forest, soft ground, falling water, woodpeckers and otter tracks. Views down into dark pools pouring pristine water over prehistoric rocks. There was scat from a very well fed coyote, mushrooms that have the texture of soft suede shoes and dark, cool pools to quench the dog's thirst. The soundtrack is excellent: running water and that lively near-silence of wild places.  

  2.5 miles one way.

 

 

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[img:BlogPharaohsign.jpg]The WHOLE time, it was just Kevin, Katie, a couple ravens, a few chickadees and me.

Ever since I hiked to Oxshoe Pond last winter, I've wanted to go back to the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness and tackle its namesake mountain.

We decided to take advantage of a sunny day last weekend. And though there are not-quite-winter conditions yet, cold but no real snow accumulation, I thought we might see SOMEone on the trail.

So, on Sunday morning, my husband and I packed up our snacks, extra warm gear, microspikes, headlamps and our dog Katie and headed to Schroon Lake.

There are a number of interconnected ways via different trailheads to get to the Pharaoh Mountain trail, but we decided to try the shortest possibility; which is about 8 miles round trip.

Depending on the conditions and your vehicle, it's possible to drive to the trailhead at Crane Pond via Crane Pond Road. We were in our minivan (yes, I know; and we don't even have any kids), and the road is dirt, with quite a lot of bumps and icy spots, so we didn't quite make it all the way to the pond. We stopped at a pull off and hiked about a half mile the rest of the way up the road to the pond itself. When we got there, there were two big SUV's, so we knew there were other parties on the trails somewhere.

I had been at this junction when I hiked from the Short Swing Trail to Oxshoe previously, so I recognized the walkway to the beginning of the trail. A few yards after we passed Crane Pond, we spotted the trail register and signed in. It appeared that there were two parties, both camping overnight since the day before; one at Oxshoe Pond, the other at Pharoah - not specifically at the lake or the mountain. We anticipated running into them for the next 4 hours.

This area seems nothing like most of the High Peaks trails. Sure, there's trees and DEC trail signs, but the forest FEELS different. The trees are a mix of old growth giant pines left from the last timber harvest, and newer growth. And it's an easier outing; the terrain is moderate - not "High Peak" vertical. This is a walk in the Park.

Or so I thought.

We passed the junction of the trail to Oxshoe Pond pretty quickly (the sign said .7 miles from Crane Pond), and headed toward Pharaoh Mountain - another 2.3 miles. (The sign also said that the ascent was 1,457, I saw on our way back.)

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I love hiking in the Adirondacks this time of year; with no snow on the trail, the greens of the conifers and abundant mossy coverings seemed brilliant. It was oddly quiet - with only the sound of chickadees here and there. We followed the well-defined trail, which was fairly easy walking until the last half mile or so. That's where the 1,500' ascent began.

The trail at this point could be called "moderate" in difficulty. And luckily, we had brought along our microspikes just in case there were icy conditions on the trail near the summit. They are the "equalizers", making a challenging, slippery, hands-on-the-deck traverse into a comfortable climb. Hiking trails often become the path of least resistance for any flowing water, so it's likely to run into icy sections this time of year. We donned our equalizers after realizing the section was longer than a few steps. Katie brought her built-in spikes, and was able to navigate around the ice better than we were.

We soon reached the summit, which afforded spectacular views of Crane Pond and Schroon Lake and beyond. Kevin, being an avid rock climber, knew that there was a much sought-after ice climb on the opposite side of the mountain, so he went exploring a bit while I ate some more snacks and took pictures. I could see and hear a few ravens in the direction he headed - the only other sound we had heard aside from the chickadees. There was virtually no wind - a good thing - but I was cooling down from inactivity and added layers (always bring extra layers and wind protection!), prepping for the descent.

[img:pharoahmt3.jpg]Kevin wasn't able to find the cliff from this location; it is typically accessed from a bushwacking trail from the town of Adirondack on the opposite side of Schroon Lake. We packed up and headed back down. The trip back down any trail always seems shorter; and it did go a bit faster than the ascent.

When we passed the Oxshoe Pond Trail sign again, I wondered where the other hikers were. One of the two SUV's was gone when we reached Crane Pond. We hadn't seen a soul the entire day! We ambled back down to the minivan, about 5 hours after we had left it.

I then mentioned that I wished I had a cheeseburger. That suggestion was all it took. We drove straight down Schroon Lake's classic resort Main Street and stopped in front of Pitkin's Restaurant. A couple was exiting the front door just as we entered, and we saw that we were, again, the only people around in this classic diner-style eatery.

A friendly voice from the back said - "sit wherever you like!" We chose a booth, and were immediately provided with menus, on which I spied the bacon cheeseburger right away.

[img:BlogPitkins.jpg]We ordered our comfort food and waited approximately 3 seconds and our plates were in front of us. I didn't actually time it, but I believe it was about 2 minutes later that we had stuffed all the homemade goodness in, and, satisfied without adding dessert, swiftly got our check.

I knew that the restaurant had been there for a while, so I asked the waitress (the only other person we'd seen all day) if there was any printed information about the place that I could read. She said, no, but they were celebrating 105 years of consecutive business this year, and the current owners have been running Pitkins for about 60 of those years!

We couldn't have planned it better. This deserted weekend hike adventure is an anomaly - but we were psyched to have the entire Pharaoh Lake Wilderness to ourselves for the day! 

I'm more of a skater than an angler so I use any hike I can to check for ice. This week I went to Hammond Pond.

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An easy walk on a wide trail leads through pretty forest to a wide spillway where you get a great look at Bloody Mountain. It's hard to say why someone would name a mountain Bloody Mountain. The youngsters who were with me were intrigued but they said we shouldn't stay too late in the day.

Ice is definitely trying to form. The boys whacked sticks as hard as they could to test it. A few loud cracking noises made exciting sound effects but also made it clear it's too early to start skating so we headed up the trail in search of mink or otter tracks along the brook.

The trail continues on a nice easy grade. We checked out an old scat that was full of bones and looked at liverworts with scaly patterns. The boys determined that Troll Skin is a better name than liverwort for the flattened, moss-like mats.

Although it's somewhat inconvenient for hikers and mountain bikers, the bridge being out over Black Brook was a good addition to our expedition. We easily forded it using what remains of a makeshift handrail strung by wire to some trees. There were a few large blowdowns that required some scrambling but we followed the trail all the way to the big open wetland at the end. There were deer trails everywhere. A good spot to go back for birding in the spring.

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On the return we took the detour up to Bloody Pond. You have to pay close attention and follow the signs of footfall. The leaves and downed limbs made it easy to get off trail. You gain some elevation as you climb up and away from the stream. On the way up there's a nifty chimney through some boulders that made us think we were passing through a secret gate.

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We had lunch on a nice knoll and headed back with a bushwhack down the stream and a second chance to see Hammond Pond. The side of the pond the trail follows was in the shade and the small hummocks along the edge looked like mysterious, dark islands. The ice looked thicker. We will definitely go back with skates as the temperature gets colder. 

 

When you live in the Adirondacks and hunt and fish, you become a de facto guide simply by the number of friends from outside the region who want to come up and visit and experience the outdoor opportunities this spectacular place offers.

I can usually accommodate them, especially if we're talking about spring gobblers. Maybe even deer; I did, in fact, lead a Pennsylvania pal deep into the bush a few years back and he even got a crack at a big buck, the kind that tend to grow old in the backcountry and produce gnarly racks.

Lake Champlain smallmouths and ice fishing on Schroon Lake for lakers and landlocks is easily handled, as well. Ditto for trout on the West Branch of the Ausable.

But when a couple buddies from northern Pennsylvania wanted to come up and pursue varying hares – we call 'em snowshoes – I hesitated a bit. I run Labrador retrievers on pheasants, but my dogs are way too hot for the big white rabbits. And while I know a few spots (even around the house), where they regularly trip our motion detector lights at night) I'm not totally in tune with the hare hot spots.

No worries, they said. They just wanted to run their beagles on hares and see how they performed. And kill a few, as well. And how hard would this be, anyway? You look for hare tracks and turn the dogs loose.

So there we were, as the two boys rolled into town on a Friday night for a weekend of hunting. Our three Labs weren't impressed when a pair of beagles pranced into the house and made themselves right at home, but they did enjoy the pizza crust handouts from Ethan and Derek.

[img:harehunting.jpg]After a hearty breakfast on Saturday morning (something you could find at any one of these Schroon Lake establishments), we hit a promising spot loaded with the kind of low-hanging cover favored by hares. The dogs worked well, and it wasn't long before we were serenaded by a pair of bawling beagles, hot on the trail of a big-footed bunny. Conditions were ideal, even for Derek's diminutive beagle Bonnie, who would have struggled had there been any significant snow depth. Even so, the deadfalls presented their own set of challenges.

That trail ran cold, which was surprising: unlike cottontail rabbits, hares don't "hole up" and are always available for tracking.

That's the way the day went, and when it was done we were hare-less. And to top it off, one of the beagles was lame.

This guiding gig was coming unraveled.

But both dogs did take to the field the next day, and we managed a good run early. I carried my Browning A-5 but had no intention of shooting; this was the boys' hunt. So when the hare bounded past with impressive leaps, I simply watched – and listened.

It was Derek who sealed the deal, and the boys admired the hare with appreciation. We called off the day when we noticed the gimpy beagle was still struggling.

But we vowed to get together for a rematch in the big woods. 

I have to admit, I haven't done a lot of predator hunting.A red fox here, a gray fox there, and a couple unsuccessful outings for coyotes– which, from what serious predator pursuers tell me, isn't unusual.

But I've always marveled at how those die hard predator hunters speak with reverence of their prey, the sport itself, and the satisfaction that comes from luring a fox, coyote or even a bobcat into shooting range. It's the way I feel about spring gobbler hunting, so I understand what they're talking about, although it's fur that fires them up and not feathers.

There are, actually, some legitimate comparisons to be made between predator hunting and spring turkey hunting. Both involve huge challenges, turkeys due to their incredible eyesight and predators primarily because of their keen sense of smell. The fraternity of hunters who relish that challenge is much smaller than those whose focus is whitetails. And in both the turkey woods and the predator fields, you lose more often than you win.

But there are differences, too. While spring gobblers are available during the month of May (as well as a weekend youth hunt for 12 to 15year olds), predator hunting seasons are longer.

And you can even hunt them at night. With a spotlight.

Trust me, it takes some getting used to, heading out after dark, toting a rifle (or shotgun, or muzzleloader, bow, even a handgun – in Essex County all those implements are legal) and actually hunting something legally. I felt like a poacher the first couple times I was out there.

You can use a call; maybe a rabbit in distress. And you can even use an electronic call to lure them in. The anticipation alone is enough to make you forget about the temperature.

Sure, it can be cold. So can the deer woods. And yes,successes are rare, as they are in many of our pursuits. But what else would you be doing on a full moon mid-winter night? Get out there and give it a try.You might get hooked like many hunters have. And if you do connect on a coyote,look at it as helping the deer herd or the turkey flock. It's one less of those pesky canines in the woods.

Chances are you have a friend who knows a bit aboutpredator hunting. If you don't, you can hook up with a seasoned Adirondack guide who can show you how it's done.

It's a great way to extend your hunting season, to keep going during the winter, and get off the couch an evening or two and get some exercise.

And it's a good way to pass the time beforespring gobbler season, too. 

 

Ask some people and if they know (or care)\ they'll probably tell you I'm a trout fisherman – fly rod in hand, wading the small creeks and streams stalking the wild brookie.

Shhh. Don't tell anyone...

I think pike might be right up there with the colorful native salmonid.

It might have had something to do with pulling a 42-incher out of a far northern lake, but for quite a while I've been hooked on the toothy fish.

This particular day was no different. We don't always target pike; there are many lakes in the area that hold a variety of species.But if I know they're in there, I'll take some time and throw a lure or two just to see if I can entice a bite. Unless we're on a water that is specifically, say, a bass lake, Steve and I will often target different fish to see what's biting.

It was getting colder, but the ice hadn't locked up thelake just yet.... kind of like now.

I had on a big spinnerbait hoping to aggravate the northerns into a chomp. As usual, they didn't disappoint. You'll hear many fishermen say that pike will take anything, and then again some will say they're picky eaters. I think they're just mean and live like the old grumpy guy down the street who yells "get outta my yard" out the window every day. Give 'em something that antagonizes them a bit and they'll take it.

If you're targeting northerns, give the spinnerbait – a bright-colored spinnerbait – a try. Spoons will also bring them in. You want to go with a big spoon, with a lot of bend that creates a real stir on the retrieve. (And there's a reason many North Country fishermen have that tried and true red and white version, the Dardevle, in their tackle box.) A soft plastic jerkbait might also tempt them into a strike and, if the regs allow it, any number of baitfish will lure them in – a sucker or shiner. And you might not be able to find anything more exciting than running a top-water lure when pike are in the mood. A smallmouth is one thing, but a large mouth full of teeth is another.

While it may be best known for its lake trout and landlocks and the fishermen who target them, Schroon Lake also holds some pike and you my just find some solitude in the weedy bays and backwaters pike cruise for dinner. Once it's frozen, they can be a blast on tip-ups; be prepared,however, with a pretty good spool of line. If they're big enough and feisty enough, they'll take it a long way.

But don't think that you have to stay on the big lake to have a chance. Some of the smaller waters in the region have their share of fish, notably Paradox Lake at the outlet of Schroon, and Rich Lake over in Newcomb.

My fish took the hook and I knew right away I was in for a fight. Under and around the boat, I took my time, as I have a tendency to just horse them into the boat like the bass pros do on TV. Only problem is, I'm not a pro and this wasn't a bass. As Steve stood by ready to grab the fish should it surface, it went on another tear, down and under the boat again. Time soon became of the essence as I was planning to put the fish back to fight another day and didn't want to release an exhausted, spent fish.

It made its last run to the side of the boat and Steve (with gloved hand) reached out to scoop it up. (We'd later wonder why he just didn't use the net sitting on the bottom of the boat.) Pictures were taken and the pike was successfully sent back to the deep to terrorize the perch and aforementioned bass.

That, I thought was a blast. Can't get much better, I wouldn't think.

But wait...

Pike on a fly? That might be the ultimate. 

Hammond Pond Wild Forest continues to provide great outings this winter. To celebrate New Year's Day I skied from the Sharp Bridge Campground to East Mill Flow with two great friends.

Sharp Bridge Campground is one of the prettiest campsites in the Adirondacks and likely one of the oldest. The first campsite was placed at this location in 1920 according to DEC. The campsite where the trail begins is about 3 miles south of Exit 30 on Rte 9 in North Hudson.

Five days after the first (and wonderful!) snow storm of the winter, which came on Dec. 27-28, we expected to find that someone had already packed out the trail and we were rewarded for most of the way.

From the parking area the trail follows the Schroon Brook southeast for about a mile. The going is easy and allowed us to test our wax—mine was lacking—and adjust. There's one place along the water where a road once crossed and you can see the remains of an old stone bridge. It's amazing what stands and what crumbles along the banks of these Adirondack Rivers.

We headed up a long hill to about 1250 feet through forest still heavy with snowy branches, looking forward to a great descent as reward on the return. From the top of the hill the route rolls along gently which allowed us to get into a nice ski rhythm.

Just was we were starting to feel an appetite, the forest opened into the East Mill Flow. The Flow is an extensive beaver flow that was well-frozen. We checked out the nice canine tracks, complete with scent marks. Probably both coyote and fox. There were seed heads from dried sedges and stiff, dark leather leaf foliage showing through the snow as we skied across to a rocky edge. The rock radiated warm sunshine that felt good after the shady trail.

Delicious, left-over maple-banana-walnut waffles slathered with peanut butter made a timely appearance followed by the special Bengal spice tea with honey and milk that David always carries in winter. We all had plans for the late afternoon so didn't linger although I was curious to continue the route to its end on Ensign Pond Road.

The trip back was perfect. I was less concerned with making progress than I had been on the way in. I noticed the high ledge that the trail follows and imagined bobcats napping in the sunshine up there. The trail was tracked out enough to make nice gliding. The sunshine made a light show in the canopy of bare branches and deep green needles.  We returned to the cars after three hours completely satisfied. 

 

[img:severancemerlin.jpg]This week I had to drive south for a conference and felt the usual twinge of regret to leave the mountains. I decided to break up the trip with a walk to see the view from Mount Severance in Schroon Lake. It's the perfect diversion from a ride in the car—long enough to stretch your back but not so tough you need a change of clothes when you get down, at least in winter.

Just before the trail head there is a great piece of sculpture at the Schroon Lake Bed and Breakfast.  I ran into Mark Piper the proprietor who told me Merlin, as the old man is known, was a gift from his mother-in-law. There's no doubt more to that story so a stay at the B and B is in order.

Severance is notable for the unusual trail access via tunnels under the Northway. In some ways the tunnels add a feeling of adventure and the road sounds quickly fade as you enter the woods. My hearing was more attuned to the ever-so-slight rustling of young beech leaves and the mildly alarmed chickadees than the highway sounds behind me. 

[img:severancebenchandtracks.jpg]It was nice to see good trail work has been done--there are two bridges to cross and a nice staircase complete with handrail.  There is also a pair of nice benches at the top of a little rise. Plenty of deer and coyote sign criss-crosses the trail both down low under the hemlocks and up higher in the hardwoods.

Although a lot of snow had melted there was a fair amount of hard pack and ice, which from the look of several long skids had also caused trouble for a few deer. I relied on my Microspikes but I carried a trekking pole for insurance.

Including stops to take photographs and snoop around some animal tracks I was on top in 40 minutes. The view was bright and clear. I studied the fishing shanties near Clark's Island where there is reputed to be one of the oldest trees in New York State.  The far hills in the Pharoah Lake Wilderness to the east looked very tempting to explore.  Near my own foot prints I saw tracks of deer coming out to enjoy the view—or more likely to absorb some thermal energy from the sunshine. On a steep patch of ice the tracks twirled around like an ice skater's then turned back.

 

[img:severanceview.jpg]On the way down I crossed the tracks of a ruffed grouse that hadn't been there on the way up and then a nice set of fox tracks that had also not been there earlier.  Finding tracks on top of my own gives me the fulfilling sensation that I am just another one of the wild things in the woods.  I can pretend for the day but  Winter Storm Nemo, underway as I write today, gives me respect for the resourcefulness of the wilder species. 

 

 

 

[img:pike-ice-fish.jpg]You've seen the photos. A solitary fisherman, sitting on a bucket on a windswept lake as the sun sets on the horizon.

That's not the Schroon Lake Ice Fishing Derby.

There's not too many buckets, and the sun is high in the sky. And you won't find much solitude. As the region's most popular ice fishing derby, the annual Schroon Lake fest, now in its 21st year, regularly pulls hundreds of ice anglers from near and far. And a couple of days on the ice can yield some impressive results.

You can pull these fish through the ice with a jig or  a tip-up, depending on the species you're targeting – usually jigging for the perch; tip-ups primarily for the lake trout, landlocked salmon and northern pike. As in past years, there will be prizes for trout, salmon, northern pike,perch and pickerel. You're limited to three salmon, which must be at least 15 inches; two lake trout, which must be at least 18 inches;five northern pike, which must be at least 18 inches; and five perch of any size. There are no limits on pickerel.

The weekend includes a pastadinner at the Schroon Lake Fish and Game Club clubhouse on Saturday night andhot dogs, chili and burgers on Sunday.

Certainly, you'll find those fishermen with their sights set on those fish too big to pull up through the hole, but it's a friendly group,looking as much to catch a fun day or two out on the ice as they are a monster pike. And given Schroon Lake's history, they could do that, too.

Last year, over 420 anglers took to the ice. The largest catchwas a 17.92-pound northern pike. The winning lake trout measured 9.16 pounds,followed by a 3.61-pound salmon, a 1.53-pound perch and a 3.74-pound pickerel.

There's still time to register for this year's Derby, set for Saturday and Sunday, March 2 and 3. Fishing begins at daylight on Saturday;all fish must be weighed in by 4 p.m. on Sunday at the Fish and Game Club's Clubhouse. For locals, just bring your gear and you're all set. If you're visiting the area and would like to head out on the ice, you don't need all that fancy stuff to enjoy the day. Check out one of the local guides (click here for more information). If you're just looking for information regarding the derby, you can call (518) 532-7953.