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Fire Tower Trail

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Sunday January 3rd, 2021.  7:38am ET and I am in my Subaru headed through the darkness toward a park for a solo hike.  Little did I know that the word solo would be an appropriate phrase?

The previous day and overnight the rains fell.  I got up early, looked outside and wavered on heading out or not.  My hiking partner had texted me the night before and stated he was trying to stay in good graces with his wife.  Since he had been gone 4+ hours the previous three days, he stayed home, which meant the choice of location, whether to go, and distance was all on me.

As I drove down Highway 62 toward O’Bannon Woods State Park, the wet roads, darkness and overcast skies made me question my decision on if I should go or not.  Muddy trails, bad lighting (for pictures), and the fact it was the last day of hunting season crept into my mind, and the doubts flooded my brain.  I fought the urge to turn around and made it to my destination under the shadow of the fire tower at the entrance of the park.

I started my tracker and started down the muddy path at the trailhead of the Fire Tower Trail.  This trail is not only used as a hiking path but also a mountain bike path.  The sign at the entrance banned mountain bikers on muddy days, and the fact is I didn’t see this day.

Overnight the moon was in a waning gibbous cycle, and as the sun rose neither mattered because the blanket of clouds filtered the light and cast a gray haze above the trees.  The light was diffused and added a bit of chill to the 38 degree temperature.  The skies became brighter, but I could not tell, nor see the sun.

The trail was slushy, covered in rotting leaves, and occasionally fallen limb.  The carpet of leaves often hid rocks that would reach up and snag my boots.  I had brought a hiking stick along to counteract this expected random shifts in my balance that I knew were going to happen.

I crossed a few small trickling brooks, then arrived at a forest property gravel road that I crossed and entered deeper into the forest.  Within minutes, I had the urge to stop.  What happened next was hypnotic.  I had been listening to my boots slosh in the mud, and an occasional thump when I kicked a rock, or snapped a twig with the weight of my body.  At this moment I was in silence.  No wind, no critters running through the leaves, no cars, no planes, nothing.  Every time I hike, I try to experience what is around me.  Often there is something to distract me.  A squirrel, wind blowing through the trees, a distant sound (gun, car, plane, talking, etc.) , But at this moment absolutely nothing.

I slowly scanned my surroundings to verify I was all alone.  For a few minutes, I shut off my brain.  I slowed my breath and just looked around.  I didn’t move other than my head.  I closed my eyes and listened.  Nothing.  This is peace I can only get in the woods.

I started back up and soon found myself on a section of the trail I love.  This section skirts on the edge of the bluff.  To my left was a steep incline, and to my right was a 100+ foot drop that ended in the Blue River.  These moments, in this place, help me calm my nerves, but humble me.  I was miles from anyone, at the mercy of God, the woods, and Mother Nature.  If I walked 10 feet to my right, I would be dead or very badly injured.  If I went right, I would likely get lost in the over 24,000 acre property.  Read that again!  24,000 acres.  I worried not about being lost, or getting hurt, or falling off this ridge.  I soaked up the sweet air and beautiful surroundings.  Very humbling.

At the two-mile mark on the trail, I turned around and started back.  My goal was 4 miles today.  I could have kept going, but didn’t want to risk my blood sugar dropping.  Besides, this trail was a one-way trail, not a loop, so it would double each step I took as I must return to my car.

As previously mentioned, the overcast skies showed me many things.  I have heard many times that there are no colors in winter.  The picture above is one of my favorites I have taken.  Dark green, dull colors would hide this same shot in summer.  A friend described the twisty path as “this looks like a painting”, I assure it is not, but will probably end up on my wall very soon.  I smile as I write this because I saw things today that no-one will ever see.  Others will travel this path, but never in this moment and never seeing exactly what I saw today.  Think about that!

I covered a 4.06 miles on this hike and another 1.25 miles, looking for something further down the road in this park as I was heading home.  Through the entire journey I saw two hunters, heard one gunshot (all during the second trek), and learned that I need quiet from time to time.  My hikes with Mark are so enjoyable, but adventures like today need to be a staple for me and my mental health.

As I headed back home.  I reflected on my hike.  My brain was calm, anxiety gone, soul scrubbed, and I renewed my spirit.  I got a few shots, and some “keepers”.  It was a glorious morning.  One I won’t forget for a while.

Until next time,

Tim (Kilmer)

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