Forked Lake Primitive Campground (DEC), Adirondacks 5/23 & 5/24/09
Highlights: fishing; our new screen house; canoeing; freeze-dried food; bear lockers; loons singing after dark; coyotes in the distance
Not-exactly-highlights: black flies; the outhouse; rain; packing up wet camping gear; leaving early
Pictures-only version: click here
We’d heard about Forked Lake from a couple different people, so the first weekend in May we drove up to scope it out, and chose the perfect site to reserve, # 75. While planning this trip, we developed grandiose ideas of how we were gonna “really rough-it” this time. Oh yes! We were going to hike in about ½ mile to our site, with all our gear on our backs, and not much gear at that… just the bare essentials. We wouldn’t need our stove or the propane, as we would cook on the campfire. This campfire would not be lit with a modern lighter, or even matches. No, no, only a magnesium fire starter would be used. We wouldn’t need a cooler, either, as we’d be bringing only freeze-dried meals and other dry food items. What about something to drink? Well we’d be camping right next to a lake, for God’s sake! We can gather water from it and boil it over the campfire, rendering it perfect for drinking and cooking. We even bought a mess kit to cook with, thereby eliminating the need for our usual pots, pans, and tableware. This would be a lot less stuff to hike in with. We were also planning a hike along a snowmobile trail, possibly 15 miles round trip, depending on how quickly we tired. It was to be the mother of all camping trips!
Just a few days before our trip, Ken realized he had made a mistake and reserved site # 75 for the wrong weekend, so he had to reserve a different one for this weekend, as 75 was already taken. We arrived to check in, and while standing at the window, made some observations, the first of which was the number of black flies hanging around us. There were more than the previous weekend, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We also noticed many people wearing head nets, and a few had full-body nets. We wouldn’t be the only silly looking ones this time! While chatting with the man who was checking us in, we told him about the black flies we had at Piseco Lake. His response was that they really don’t have many black flies there… here at Forked Lake, they breed the black flies, and send some over to Piseco Lake just so they can have a few! Nice! So we got checked in, put on our nets, sprayed ourselves with repellant, and loaded some gear into the canoe we decided to rent. We thought we’d take the canoe over to the site, walk back to the car for the rest of our gear, and hike back in with it. When we saw how easy it was to bring things in the canoe, we decided that was how we’d transport the rest of our equipment. First we set up the tent at the back of the site, as the area closer to the water was damp. It was squishy under our feet, and plain muddy in a couple spots. We then went about setting up the screen house we just bought, after moving the picnic table to a less water-logged spot. The table was situated in the screen house, which made cooking and eating much more enjoyable. The black flies this weekend were at least a hundred times worse than last weekend, swarming our heads like a fog. Each of us probably had a hundred around our head at any given time. It was unbelievable… and annoying. This could drive a person to madness in a hurry! Our screen house proved to be worth its weight in gold.
Lunchtime came; time to try out the fire starter. Ken began scraping bits of the metal into a small pile for about a minute, and decided this was much too slow a process, not to be attempted with the very distracting cloud of black flies buzzing relentlessly. So he started the fire with my lighter, scooped some water from the lake into a dish from the mess kit, and set it over the fire on the grate. A minute passed, and Ken grabbed the dish with the clamp to position it better over the flame. Well, several of the rungs on the grate were uneven, creating a gap, and of course the dish found the gap, spilling most of the water. So much for cooking over the fire! Back to the car we go to retrieve our trusty propane stove, normal cooking and eating dishes, and utensils. We actually made several canoe trips back and forth, and pretty much ended up bringing all our normal camping gear back. We ate lunch and relaxed in the screen house, and felt much better. After a bit, we canoed back to the car and went in search of firewood. We originally planned to only use wood we could gather around the campsite, but it was all very damp. Before long, it was time for dinner. The freeze-dried food we had bought actually tasted amazingly good, and had good nutritional content.
We wanted to fish a little, so we got in the canoe and drifted with our lines in the water, but with no luck. I was determined to catch something, so I continued to fish when we got back on shore. I had a bite within a few minutes; it was another largemouth bass. Ken unhooked it for me, but the stupid thing decided to make a run for it and slipped out of Ken’s hand, only to flop around in the dirt and leaves and wedge itself under a log. Ken did manage to get a grip on it again and return it to the water, assuring me that we didn’t cause an early demise for the poor thing. Within two minutes, I had another bite, at which point I volunteered to stop fishing. It was getting pretty dark out, and difficult to see well enough to unhook a fish without hooking one’s own finger. Ken appreciated my offer.
After relaxing for a bit, we made sure any food items were secured in the bear locker. Ken had a need to visit the outhouse, for which we brought a roll of toilet paper. Not only is there no toilet paper supplied for you, but there is nowhere to put it once you’re in there – no hook, no shelf, only the floor (yuk). So you have to hold onto it. Normally that wouldn’t be a big problem, but this outhouse had a lid over the seat that would not stay open on its own… so you had to hold that, too. Both hands are now occupied, and the task of wiping remains ahead. Not cool! Accordingly, I heard a series of thuds coming from the outhouse, which turned out to be the lid falling shut while other things were being attended to. Somehow, this was only hilarious to Ken after my outhouse visit. Maybe it had to do with the string of profanities Ken heard coming from that direction while I was in it! That outhouse just plain sucked.
We got settled in, cozy in the sleeping bags, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of loons crying out, and coyotes howling from across the lake. About two hours later I was awakened by the intense need to empty my bladder, and it would not be ignored. After contemplating for a minute whether or not I wanted to visit the outhouse again, I heard the coyotes start up. Great, just what I need is a coyote stalking me while I pee! I’d better make it quick. If you’re a girl and have ever tried to pee outside in the dark, you know it’s no easy task. It requires the use of a flashlight and a delicate balancing act. I decided not to wander very far from the tent and to take care of this out in the open. Forget the outhouse; I wasn’t awake enough to mess around with that again. It was great to get back inside the tent, and I fell asleep quickly.
In the morning, we awoke to find that it was raining lightly, but it got heavier as time passed. We thought about whether we wanted to hike in the rain while we ate breakfast. We would have done it, except I – The Brilliant One – forgot to pack my hiking boots. If I went in my sneakers, my feet would have been soaked and probably badly blistered, so we decided not to. Once again, we thought it would be better to break camp and go home, as our soggy site was turning into a big puddle. We managed to fit most of our supplies in the canoe on the first trip, which Ken made by himself in his rain suit. Everything else went on the second trip, and several other campers were also packing out for the same reason. As Ken checked out at the office, the guy said that we were on the wet side of the lake. Good to know; better to know sooner. Waiting to check in was a very preppy looking couple in their 40s. They looked way too clean to be serious campers; their sneakers were blindingly white, and the lady was protesting the idea of putting bug spray on her face, much less wear a bug net on her head of clean, styled hair. We’re sure they didn’t last 5 minutes after arriving at their site. By the way, site # 75 that we liked so much was sandy, therefore not as wet. The couple who had reserved it, we were told, didn’t stay even a half-hour because the lady couldn’t handle the black flies. What a waste; if we had that site instead, we might have been able to stay dry enough to use it for both days. Oh well.
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