[Journal entry for August 17, 2011; Silvermine Lake] I arrived at Silvermine Lake in the late morning of a spectacularly clear summer day, and parked in the lot at its north end, near the now-defunct Silvermine Ski Area. This lot, and its now-closed companion a bit further south along Seven Lakes Drive, are both large enough to handle crowds of skiers - long gone and never to return. Skiing has moved on to the big mountains; few would find much attraction in this tiny ski hill. Mine was one of just a few cars in the huge and decaying lot. I walked across a footbride across an inlet stream that originates at Lake Nawahunta, to the west. Its banks are tangled with vegetation, including some colorful wild flowers. I walked along the Menomine Trail, blazed in yellow. It follows the western shore of the lake. The heavy rains of the last week has led to quite a bit of surface water. Menomine is notorious for its boulder fields; now water is flowing between the stones and I find keeping my sneekers dry difficult. This northern part of the lake is quite overgrown with lilies and other aquatic plants. I gaze at a large beaver lodge that is across from me, and an orange boat that I take for a kayak, near it. I then follow Menomine through the woods and past occasional rocky hills to the southwestern corner of the lake, where an inlet stream, Bockey Swamp Brood, flows in. I bushwhack across the valley of the stream, crossing it by stepping from boulder to boulder. The streams in this part of the park are mostly boulder fields, with a bit of soggy grass growing between the stones! I follow the stream to a little beaver pond, impounded by a beaver dam that is about a foot and a half high. The dam spans the outlet stream right where it flows into Silvermine Lake. This is a very pretty spot, with lots of marsh grass and other vegetation. I am of the firm opinion that there is a trail around the shore of every lake in this densely-inhabilted North East, but Silvermine Lake must be an exception, for I can find nothing along the lake's southern shore. The terrain is fairly open woods, and though I have to detour around a few laurel thickets, I have little trouble bushwhacking along the lakeshore. Eventually I conenct with the old Silvermine Sli Road, a woods road that, for a while, follows the lake's eastern shore. I could have avoided the bushwhack entirely, if I hadconencted via the Appalachian Trail, but it is a half mile south of the lake and lacks a view. Finally, I am in sight of the dam, a long earthfill structure in the lake's northeastern corner that has a concrete spillway at its eastern edge. I watch the water of the lake drop over the spillway; calm even within inches of the drop, and then all cascades and foam below. On past visits I have been able to cross Queensboro Brook, the outlet stream, just below the dam, but today the water is too high and energetic. I climb down, perhaps thirty feet of elevation, and follow the brook until I reach the bridge of the Silvermine Ski Road, and cross over. One again, I have to bushwhach to get back to the eastern side of the spillway. I cross an unexpectedly boggy patch and temprarily lose both of my sneekers in the mud - they, my sockas and my feet are now pretty muddy! I walk back, past a beautifully built but now derelict park building made of fitted stone, and admire the cascades of the spillway from its western side. I climb down a steep trail on the northern face of the earthfill dam to a point that affords a good view of the roaring outlet stream. I then walk back to the car, temporarioly getting lost among narrow foot paths that disappear among thickets and brambles. I pass the orange 'kayaker' a discover that what I had seen earlier is actually a man laying on an air mattress, floating peacefully in the calm waters of the lake. About 2 hours.