Alone on the trail

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Friday, November 20th, the plan was to be picked up by Mark, we drive to O Bannon Woods State Park, and hike the Breeden Ridge and Potato Run Trail. It didn’t happen.

I received a text from Mark on Thursday evening after verifying the time we were to meet and he responded, “I forgot a plumber was coming in the morning at 8:30am”. We agreed to meet after they finished him and head out for a hike. At 9:30am I got a text that the plumber was still working on the issue and advised to “go ahead” with my plans to hike.

I geared up, hopped in my car and made the 20 minute drive to the park. Along the way I had called my wife, told her where a map was and that I planned on hiking the above mentioned trails. I was nervous as this was a 5+ mile hike; it boarded hunting areas (it is deer season), there were large sections with no cell service, and the terrain was difficult. I was told “to be careful” and I proceeded on.

As I approached the entrance of the park, I pulled into the main Park office to grab another map and ask about the hike I was about to undertake. The girl behind the counter pointed out the location of the maps, but directed me into the property manager’s office to answer my questions about the hike. He asked me questions like are you camping overnight, hiking alone, do you have enough water, is your cell charged up? I clarified it was 5 miles and was told “a long 5 miles”. Finally, he suggested I do another trail and come back with my buddy to tackle this one together.

I drove to the Nature Center, parked, and headed out on the gravel trail. I hiked the Nature Center Trail to the Rocky Ridge Trail and back. A shorter route and one I was familiar with. I also would have cell service 90% of the time, and the terrain was something I knew I could handle.

As my boots crunched the gravel beneath them, I soon came to a dirt trail that led uphill to the campground. A sign was at the start of this dirt trail stating no horses and the possibility of snakes along my route. I felt safe I would see neither, and I didn’t.

I climbed the hill, walked across the pavement of the campground and approached the Rocky Ridge Sign at the trailhead. Two mountain bikers were exiting the trail, and we said a brief hello, then I started the Rocky Ridge Trail as they rode away. I had not gone ¼ mile when all the hum and noise from the campground faded and disappeared. There was a hush and calmness in the woods, and I was alone. No animals moving about (that I could hear), no people, no noise. My mind had already slowed down, or shall I say calm down. I walked, observed, and took in the surroundings.

The trees had lost all their leaves, but the abundance of trees dampened any sounds trying to travel through the forest. The few leaves that covered the trail made a rustle as I stepped on them. I knew ahead of me was the intersection to the Fire Tower Trail, so I decided at that point I would stop and eat a protein bar. Since my episode a few weeks back, I am prepared with food and will eat prior to my sugar dropping and the horrible headache and fatigue that pursues.

I reached the intersection, took the path to the left and moved on. I was feeling well, so decide a little longer would be okay before I stopped and ate. I soon had a noise ahead of me and then saw a mountain biker headed my way. As he approached, I stepped off trail and said hello. He slowed and returned the hello and asked if I drove a Dodge truck. I said no, why, and he said the police were looking at it. Within moments he had passed me and the noise of his bike faded away. Alone again.

There is a section on the Rocky Ridge Trail, the trail meanders through a grove of cedar trees. It is a small section, but unlike the rest of the trail. It has a different feel, smell and look. It is darker than the rest of the area. This is the point I stopped to eat. I sat on a large rock, eating, listening to the silence, breathing in the cool air and smelling that wonderful smell of cedar. I didn’t have a care in the world. No anxiety. No stress. Just calm. A quick few bites stuffed the wrapper in my pocket, slung my backpack back on and proceeded forward.

About ½ mile down the trail, I again heard a biker moving toward me. It was the same guy. He had circled the loop and was heading back to the Fire Tower and his car. He said, “oh hey there. There is a guy that looks just like you further back on the trail.” I smiled and wished him a good day, then in a flash he was gone.

There is a small creek that flows through the park and intersects this trail. I have seen this creek flowing, frozen and often, like today, dry. The path parallels the creek, then crosses it and parallels it again on the other side. This 1/3 a mile the trail narrows on the other side of the creek. I was on a ridge (thus the name) and the trail was covered extensively with basketball size rocks (again the name). To my right was a drop of 40+ feet into the dry creek, and to my left was a steep uphill slope.

I soon came to a turn which for me was the unofficial turning point of the trail and return, even though the halfway point was earlier. Soon I reached the intersection of the Breeden Ridge Trail to my right. It is a long uphill climb to get to the top of the ridge, and for a moment I thought about heading that way, but didn’t.

Not long after I was back on pavement and crossing the campground, toward the Tulip Trail and descending towards the Nature Trail. A corresponding sign that I saw at the start again warned of snakes, and no horses allowed. As I reached the Nature Trail, I turned left to finish the loop of the trail, and the gravel beneath me distracted the quiet I had experienced over the past few miles.

The Nature Trail snakes its way through the woods and eventually leads into a small 1830s Farmstead. I entered this area, which is a small town of about 8 buildings. I was within sight of the Nature Center, but I felt so strange walking around this makeshift town alone. I have seen many horror movies that start this way. I snapped some shots of old tools, the cabins, and got a really neat shot of the sun coming through barn slats.

I was now back at my car. My watch ready 3.98 miles. I unloaded my backpack, camera, and hiking stick. I walked around and climbed in my car. As I sat there reflecting on the hike, I was disappointed I had not tried the original trail I wanted to take. I know it was the safest decision but felt a bit a failure in not doing it. I quickly snapped out of it. Took one last look around, started my car and began the 20 minute drive home. I drove slowly, took my time and continued my decompression. It was a good day, and I needed it.

Until next time,

Tim (a. k. a. Kilmer)