Third Coast Hikes – Page 5 – The woods are really the only thing that make sense in the world. Trip reports, advice and news you can use to get outside in the Great Lakes region.

Solo Camping in Buckhorn State Park

A cup of coffee held in front of a scenic image of the river. — That feeling of drinking hot coffee when all the air around you is about 52 tops.

I have wanted to go camping solo for a number of years. Suddenly, I had the time. My schedule opened up in an unexpected way and I made the decision to extend my time at Buckhorn State Park to stay a few nights by myself. I loved it immensely.

A cup of cocoa held in front of a scenic image of the river. — That feeling when you’re drinking cocoa at the end of a lovely day all by yourself when the air around you is back down to 52 again and it’s going to be dark in about 20 minutes.

I did not prepare to go camping solo in any way that was notably different than how I would normally go camping, except for a few things.

I kept my phone turned on and nearby at all times. Normally, the idea is to get as far away from 21^st century communiques as possible, which means turning off your phone when you get to the trailhead and leaving it in your bag until you get back to the trailhead. I can get away with this because normally I’m out with my husband, and he keeps his phone on him throughout the trip. It felt like it would be irresponsible for me to completely disconnect myself, while also camping half a mile away from my car, in the middle of nowhere, where I am a strange lady camping by herself. Mostly I used it to watch the weather. I had daily check-ins with someone back in civilization so I was not quite as far off the grid as I would normally go.
My campsite was only .4 miles from my car. Car camping is straight-up more convenient than backpacking. There’s a reason that there are more car campers than backpackers. For one, you’ve got a mobile, fortified living room. The first night I was out there by myself storms rolled through just after dark. Wind gusts were north of 20 mph, and I was directly on a river so the force of water was a concern. I would be a liar if I didn’t tell you I was running over in my mind how quickly I could get to my car if I absolutely had to. (I never had to. It was great.)
I wore a big, scary, knife on my belt. Hello, I’m a somewhat short blonde woman camping by herself. It is my natural element and where I belong. I’ve spent a lot of time in my life alone in the woods and it is a deeply comfortable place to be. The trouble starts when other people don’t see things the same way that I do and might consider me to be a target, or equally bad, in need of assistance that I don’t need. Let me tell you, no one wants to chit chat with the woman wearing a big scary knife.

Number three may or may not have been necessary, to be honest. My friend stayed with me at the site on Friday and Saturday nights. She left around 10 a.m. Sunday morning and I don’t think I saw another soul for about 36 hours. I walked all over the rolling oak barrens where the hiking trails near the South Campgrounds are and don’t think I saw anyone else until Monday afternoon. The loud campers who had been staying at the adjacent sites went home on Sunday, and the rain all day kept most (all?) day-hikers far away from where I was. I wanted to be left alone in the woods, and by gum I got it.

An image of the wild raspberries growing at Buckhorn State Park. — Wild raspberries tho. <3

Rain most of Sunday kept me in my tent. I read and read and read. I listened to the sounds of the rain on the tent. When it wasn’t raining I walked and observed the fungi. I stared at the river as it gently rolled past. I watched the clouds change shape and color and density. All of these things took too much of my time and attention, so I didn’t even bother with a campfire. Instead, I watched the sun set, and huddled back in my tent when storms rolled through again that evening.

A bowl of dinner held in front of a scenic image of the river. — Backpacking dinner of packet chicken and broccoli chicken pasta side.

The storms were loud and wind was gusting above 20 miles per hour. It did something similar the night before, but my friend was there with me. This particular night, and this particular storm was my first solo night out and I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t running through all the horror movie scenarios in my head. What if that rustling outside wasn’t a raccoon, but instead a murdering madman I hadn’t noticed all day for some reason. How quickly could I run to the car from here? Could I carry anything or would it just be best to bolt with the keys and my cell phone? Around 11 p.m. the rain stopped and regular night sounds began. I fell asleep.

Oak trees where they meet the open prairies. — You know that spot where the open prairie abuts the forest? That’s the best spot.

Monday morning was glorious and bright, without a cloud in the sky. The day’s temperatures probably peaked around 75 and the sun more or less dried out everything in camp by that afternoon. If the rain Saturday and Sunday kept crowds away, the work week caused them to disappear completely. I hiked the remaining trails that I hadn’t yet visited on the south end of the park. I was able to spot this handsome Bufo Americanus and had a brief commune with a legless lizard. (A legless lizard, NOT a snake.)

A legless lizard. — A legless lizard! Not a snake!

I stopped in to speak with the rangers (to get help identifying what I learned was a Common Woodcock that had alighted in my camp the night before). This was probably the first person I had seen since my friend left around 10 a.m. Sunday morning. Later I ran into two day hikers on the trail. Basically, I went looking for a solo outdoors adventure and I found one. I was able to explore miles of hiking trails, shoreline, oak barrens and sand blows without running into another human. I encountered legless lizards, toads, frogs, songbirds, grasshoppers, dragonflies and whitetail deer without another ape for miles. I observed acorns fall from branches and land on the ground, just to be carried off by a squirrel who will either eat it or hide it and forget about it, allowing it to turn into an oak tree. I remembered that it was the equinox as I watched the sun setting due west. I read every page of every book I brought and fell asleep.

A particularly golden sunset behind the river. — So that’s what the sun did at the equinox.

I genuinely think I sleep better on the ground, you guys.

On Tuesday I had a leisurely morning around camp. The sun was out, and I hoped I could encourage some of the water to evaporate from the rain fly before I packed up my tent (partial success). Truthfully, I probably would have just stayed at Buckhorn a few more nights. I was rested for the for time in what felt like a long time, refreshed, renewed by the sun and the rain. I think sometimes you have to spend a few days outside just to hit the reset button on your personal body clock. It’s good to realign it with the natural light cycles. However, I was running low on food and I had read all of my books. Also, I think my husband was starting to miss me.

Plant leaves covered in dew. — Tons of rain all weekend. Learn to love it, or quit

Before I left I hiked the trails on the north end of the park. This is where the fishing pond is stocked with fish and kids are encouraged to cast a line. It’s also where the group campsites are found. There are about 5 miles of hiking trails on the north end of the park, they make up fully half the hiking trails within the park itself. You won’t hear me say a nasty word about the pines or the gently rolling oaks on this end of the park, but if seclusion and a landscape similar to natural Wisconsin, stick to the southern end of the park.

Ramen noodles in a bowl, with a scenic image of the river in the background. — Lemon pepper ramen dinner.

Gear Review: REI Quarter Dome 2

REI Quarter Dome 2 at Buckhorn State Park

This tent was a gift to Dave and I from his parents. His dad had purchased it with his own money for himself in Spring 2017, used it for one season and wanted to upgrade again for his own reasons. The tent was gently used when it arrived to us. It has spent almost two weeks this year being tested in various conditions across Wisconsin and Michigan, during which these opinions were formed.

The view from the REI Quarter Dome 2 at Lane Cove on Isle Royale — The view from the *REI Quarter Dome 2 at* Lane Cove on Isle Royale

The REI Quarter Dome 2 is a durable and reliable shelter that keeps you and all your stuff warm and dry.

All of our tents seem to be hand-me-downs from my husband’s dad. (I’m okay with me.) Before upgrading to this tent we had spent several seasons in an older but respectable Orion tent. My father-in-law is a cross country bike guy. He likes to load up the panniers on his recumbent bike and ride the many miles of bike trails that extend from the Chicagoland region (it’s more than you’d think.) Retirement means Glenn spends a lot of time pedaling across the vast plains. Good for Glenn. He’s also the kind of guy who likes to loan out his stuff so that he can “decide to upgrade his equipment” and then never ask for his stuff back. Shout out to Glenn.

*REI Quarter Dome 2 at Bewabic State Park*

Bike Guy Glenn and the Backpacking Prybers both have similar requirements in a tent. It needs to be fairly light, it needs to pack down somewhat small, there needs to be a reliable rain fly and a somewhat sizable vestibule. The REI Quarter Dome 2 does all of this, and kind of excels at some of them.

Notable stats on the REI Quarter Dome 2:

Weight: 3 lbs. 5 oz.

Packed size: 7 x 18.5 inches

Floor Area: 28.7 square feet

Vestibule Area: 21.5 square feet

Peak Height: 42 inches

Doors: 2

Vestibules: 2

Hubbed pole set: 1

*REI Quarter Dome 2 at Kettle Moraine State Park*

The two vestibules make up quite a bit of space, which is ideal for protecting your gear from rain even if there’s two of you and you each have large backpacks. Glenn liked it because the two doors and two vestibules made it easier for him to get his shoes on and get moving first thing in the morning.

The last time I assembled this tent it was by myself in the dark and it wasn’t too difficult at all (once I’d gotten the placement of the rain fly sorted out.) The hubbed pole set is pretty idiot-proof and the footprint of the tent is more of a trapezoid than a rectangle, meaning you’ve got a wide end and a narrow end. Once that much is sorted, assembly is a breeze. The poles also make it a free-standing structure. It’s very easy to pick it up and move it, or turn it over and shake the bugs out of it. Over the coming days on that trip I was battered by rain and thunderstorms. I spent probably a solid 24 hours inside this tent and never felt claustrophobic or trapped. That said, I was solo on that trip and might feel differently if there were two people in there. (That’s not this tent’s fault). For a two person ultralight tent, it’s really quite cozy.

Moisture collecting on the rain fly of the REI Quarter Dome 2.

If you are expecting wet weather to roll through, it’s a good idea to make sure your rain fly is taught before the drops start. If you do that, you’ll never see a drop of water inside the tent. The rain will roll right off the fly and never bother you inside.

This bit of the fly didn’t exactly sit right on the tent poles, possibly because I assembled it by myself in the dark. Moisture did collect on this spot more than elsewhere, but no moisture entered my tent.

The rain fly of the REI Quarter Dome 2. — I’m not exactly sure what the hanging bit is for, but if you’re experiencing rain in this tent, make sure it’s fully on the OUTSIDE or it will drip water directly on your head Chinese-water-torture-style.

A note on this vent: If there is a large temperature discrepancy between the air in your tent and the air outside, or you expect humidity to roll in during the night, make sure this vent is closed. We stayed one night at L’Anse Township Campground this spring, directly above Lake Superior. When we went to sleep the temperatures were probably in the 40s, and had likely dipped into the 30s during the night. The trouble was, humidity off the lake (cold humidity, at that) crept in through this vent in the night and settled on top of everything. When we woke up e v e r y t h i n g was chilly and damp (clothes, sleeping bags, shoes, everything). Thankfully, it was our last night out and we were heading home that day anyway, but if it had been earlier in the trip it would have been a downer.

Overall: Highly recommended. This tent looks almost brand-new even after three years of use.
Price: REI asks $349 for a full priced version of this tent, and that seems very fair for what you get.
Good for: Retiree bike guys, backpacking couples, solo camping near-ish to your car.
Not good for: Solo backpacking. I’m not entirely sure how I would carry this, and also everything else, if I were doing a solo backpacking trip.

Camp Thunderbird Trip Report: Buckhorn State Park

Image of river as seen from Buckhorn State Park campsite. — It spent a great deal of time watching the clouds roll by at Buckhorn State Park in Necedah, Wi.

Name: Buckhorn State Park

Location: W8450 Buckhorn Park Ave, Necedah, Wisconsin

Size: Over 8,000 acres (including the two adjacent forest preserves) of oak barrens, pines, sand blows, riverfront, and one nice stocked fishing pond that is quite cute.

Activities: Hiking, camping, bicycling, birding, cross country skiing and snowshoeing, canoeing and kayaking, dog walking, fishing, geocaching, hunting

Reservations: Online, walk-up

Pros: Stunning wildlife, big skies, secluded camping, excellent birding, quiet hikes

Cons: The neighbors were a bit loud the first night, but that’s not the park’s fault. We all need to be more mindful of the way that water carries the sounds we make.

Image of bench facing river at campsite at Buckhorn State Park. — I am still somewhat wary of this bench on top of a berm being slowly eroded by the river, but to be honest it was more solid than you’d think.

In late September my best friend and I planned to meet up for a ladies-only camping trip in Buckhorn State Park. I am somewhat confident that the reason my friend agreed to this trip is because neither of our husbands would be there to show-off or demonstrably out-camp us.

Image of hiking trail at Buckhorn State Park. — I cannot speak highly enough of the oaks and the barrens at this park.

Buckhorn State Park is located outside Necedah, Wisconsin along the banks of where the Yellow River meets the Wisconsin River. My friend lives in Minneapolis, and I live in Chicago, so we picked Buckhorn because it was easy for everyone to meet in the middle.

Buckhorn is a notable park because most of the campsites are either hike-in or backpack-in. My friend is more of a glamper than I am. I am not the biggest fan of traditional camping, where you have easy access to your car or RV. They come with conveniences, sure, but they also tend to exist nearby other campers. For me, if I can see another human being from my campsite, then I’m not really far enough away from it all. My friend likes to tend fires and cook a series of meals, that’s her favorite part of camping. Buckhorn was a pretty suitable compromise between these two things. She got to tend to a fire for hours and cook a series of pretty tasty meals and I could not see any other people in any other direction.

Image of campsite at Buckhorn State Park. — The view of my campsite after my friend had left, and I spent a few nights solo.

Buckhorn offers 68 campsites and a 60-site campground. Each site comes with a picnic table and fire ring. Many sites come with a post to keep food and trash off the ground without hanging it in a tree (you’ll still want to take extra precautions, raccoons do lurk about.) There is one accessible campsite near the South Campground, Site 8, which also has an electrical hookup. Many of the trails are also flat and wide, which does make the trails a little more accessible for someone with a mobility device. Be aware that the soil can be quite sandy.

Image of pine trees at Buckhorn State Park. — Pines along the trails on the north end of Buckhorn State Park.

Camping is allowed year-round at a handful of sites within the park, but many (including the South Campground) close for use from October – April. I stayed there through September 20-24, so I was probably the last person to camp at that site this year, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Most hike-in sites are between a few hundred feet and a mile from the trailhead, but many sites offer the use of a cart, which makes hauling in gear and firewood much simpler. We stayed at Site 15, which was about .4 miles from the trailhead. Potable water, showers and toilet facilities are available at the trailhead. Portable toilets are located near the campsites themselves, so it’s a bit easier to enjoy the comforts of modern life shortly after your coffee kicks in.

Image of forest floor at Buckhorn State Park. — Sometimes the forest floor just shows you what your laptop’s background image ought to be.

The first night we stayed at Buckhorn we were fortunate enough to have clear skies. I’m a sucker for the stars and just kind of melt when I see the Milky Way. The second night saw thunderstorms roll through, so there were no stars and we huddled in our tents most of the night. The temperatures were okay, actually, they hovered between 50 and 70 for most of the weekend but there was plenty of rain.

Image of plants at Buckhorn State Park. — Actually, I have no idea what these were. :/

The fungi on display were stunning. We also found evidence of deer and raccoons wandering through or near our campsite. On the trails we spotted dragonflies, monarch butterflies and caterpillars, legless lizards, frogs, earthworms, grasshoppers, woodpeckers and songbirds.

Image of toad at Buckhorn State Park. — Our dear old friend, Bufo Americanus.

Buckhorn has about 10 miles of hiking trails available. Firewood and ice are available at the ranger’s station, and it offers enormous opportunities for relaxation in a secluded environment. The carts are a nice amenity for the hike-in sites and the trails are beautiful, flat and easy to navigate (but the signage could be clearer on some.) Overall, it’s an excellent little park and a great place to get lost in for a few nights.

Image of fishing pond at Buckhorn State Park. — Buckhorn State Park keeps a little fishing pond stocked for kids on the north end of its park.

The fungi of Buckhorn State Park

Over on my Instagram (@ThirdCoastHikes) I’m doing a celebration of all the mushrooms that I saw while I was staying at Buckhorn State Park outside Necedeh, Wisconsin. I stayed there for four nights, two of which saw pretty heavy rains. I probably spent a solid 24 hours in my tent due to the rain. I read every page of every book I brought and it was excellent. Apparently, it was a great day for fungi, because the variety and sheer quantities of mushrooms that I saw were a mycologist’s dream. I’m sharing details on each of these beauties over on my Instagram, but you can also check me out at iNaturalist and help me identify all the stuff I find.

Why I bring hand knit socks backcountry camping

Camp Thunderbird Trip Report: Kettle Moraine Southern Unit Pinewoods Campground and Scuppernong Trail

Site 15, where we moved after we saw Site 16 (eesh).

This year we’re planning to take our annual trip at Isle Royale National Park up in Lake Superior. There isn’t much in the way of new equipment that needed testing, but y’know it’s good practice to do that. For our test camp we spent one night up at Kettle Moraine Southern Unit just outside Dousman, Wisconsin. This is a stunningly beautiful piece of land that unfortunately has been marred recently by capitalism.

Site 16, which is allegedly a private hike-in site (except for the part where all the surrounding vegetation was logged away.)

Our trip overlapped with the Aquarids Meteor Shower and a new moon, so initially we were hoping to visit Green River Wildlife Conservation Area, which is a designated dark sky site. Unfortunately, rains all week led to floods and the staff there advised us to stay away. Seeking higher ground, which isn’t easy to find in this part of the Midwest, we headed up to Kettle Moraine. Green River is about 600 feet above sea level, Kettle Moraine gets a lofty 1300 feet above sea level. This is what we consider rugged topography in the Midwest.

Please enjoy this terrible shot of the night sky.

A Moraine is an accumulation of glacially formulated debris. Kettle Moraine stretches from Walworth County on the south to Kewaunee County on the north end. Extending over 120 miles of rough terrain, it’s a collection of irregular ridges and upland areas. It was formed when glacial sediment was deposited between the Green Bay and Lake Michigan Lobes between 18,000 and 15,000 years ago.

Since we booked our campsite only about 48 hours in advance, we didn’t do much research beforehand. There’s not a lot of huge variances in our topography around here, so I focused on where I could find the highest ground within about 100 miles of Chicago. We selected the Pinewoods Campground (because it’s designated as a 24 hour quiet zone and that matters to me so much) and chose the walk-in Site 16. Campers staying at the Pinewoods campground are asked to check in at the Ottawa Lake park headquarters.

This crow is probably thinking “Sqwak, where’s my habitat?”

We headed up to Pinewoods, found Site 16 and then just kind of stood there processing what we saw. Apparently on his way out of office former Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker felt he should do some redecorating across Kettle Moraine. Just about every tree surrounding what had previously been a hike-in site, was just gone. Logging at the campgrounds on this end of Kettle Moraine has done a number on the scenery, particularly the campgrounds on the north end of the Southern Unit. Hikers who take the green path of the Scuppernong Trail will get a pretty good view of the destruction. Apparently you need to bulldoze rows and rows of pine trees just to remove the ones they cut down. It doesn’t seem there was much rhyme or reason, and it was all done apparently for a little bit of money. I picked up bits of discarded truck tires, gas caps and other litter left behind in my campsite by some heavy machinery.

The view from the back of Site 16, looking back towards the main road through the campground. Cannot recommend.

We asked the camp hosts if anyone would mind if we stayed at Site 15 instead, and they allowed it. Site 15 was less damaged by the logging operations, and has shade remaining. Site 16, which had previously only been accessible after about a 200 foot hike away from your car, is now a full-sun site more or less all day. I cannot recommend Site 16 at this time. Site 15 is fine, if you don’t mind being adjacent to an open field where a bunch of pine trees used to be.

Sunday we got up and lazed about camp and made breakfast and putzed around looking at birds and mosses. This period was excellent. Dave took a leftover potato from the night before (baked in the fire, obviously), he made bacon and eggs and coffee. We broke camp maybe around noon and headed to the Scuppernong Trail Head, fully loaded with our packs.

I’ve got zero beefs with the Scuppernong Trail though. Overall, it’s a beautiful and excellently marked path. It would be much improved if they left the trees alone along the north end instead of cutting them down for private profit.

The Scuppernong Trail System intersects with the Ice Age Trail and includes three shorter loops of varying difficulties, ranging from 2.3-4.9 miles in length. At the trailhead there is sufficient water, parking and a vault toilet. The trails meander through hardwoods and pines, including some truly gorgeous giants you’ll find at the end of the trail. Bikes are not allowed on this trail system, and in the winter it becomes a ski-only trail. I hope the Wisconsin DNR takes the time to very clearly mark the trail this winter, especially on the northern end of the Green and Yellow loops. The logging done on that end of the park has left wide scars across the land, and it’s pretty easy to see how a skier could easily get lost down a bulldozed path if the trail were not clearly marked.

I”m a sucker for a big ol’ oak though. <3

Verdict: Kettle Moraine is a beautiful park, Pinewoods are a beautiful campground, avoid Site 16 and shame on Scott Walker. Shame shame shame, Scott Walker.

The Scuppernong Trail is clearly marked and beautifully maintained.

The waste left behind by the capitalist dogs that logged the Scuppernong Trail.

This bluejay is probably thinking “Chirp chirp motherfucker what did you do with my habitat!”

Yeah but then we got burgers and I drank a 22 oz beer.

Camp Thunderbird Day Trip: Matthiessen State Park, April 20, 2019

Inside the canyon on the path towards the Giant’s Bathtub.

I grew up in a small town in Central Illinois. Objectively, I can see how people get the impression that Illinois is a flat place. Mostly that’s because it is. Anyone who is committed to that perception hasn’t been to Matthiessen State Park.

Not even one of the more noteworthy waterfalls, tbh.

Matthiessen is located adjacent to the city of Oglesby, which is across the river from LaSalle, which butts up against Peru, which is just a hop-skip-and-a-jump away from Spring Valley, where I am from and most of my family still lives. As a result, I don’t get to visit the big parks in the region all that often. When I do visit my time is usually tied up with family stuff. We were able to carve out a few hours during Easter weekend to go hiking in Matthiessen State Park.

The water levels were okay but on the high-ish side when we were there. Anytime of you that you visit you should be prepared to hop rock-to-rock across the water. It can be a real test of agility.

The Giant’s Bathtub from within a nearby cave. Please be respectful when visiting this site, previous visitors have marred the sandstone with carvings. The concrete bridges and stairs over these canyons were constructed before it was donated to the state, so the state preserves them for accessibility within the park and as part of its historic character.

Matthiessen is one of a handful of excellent parks in that corner of the state. Most people are aware of Starved Rock State Park, which attracts nearly 3 million visitors each year, putting it among the top most visited parks in the entire United States. Matthiessen is a few miles south of Starved Rock, and for most of my childhood was known as a local’s secret. Well, that can’t possibly be true any more because nearly 600,000 people visited Matthiessen State Park last year. (Sorry Illinois Valley Folks, your secret’s out.) There’s also Buffalo Rock State Park if the other two are all too crowded for your tastes. There are 5 miles of hiking trails at Matthiessen State Park, and another nine miles of mountain biking and equestrian trails.

Matthiessen State Park is a stunning example of waterfalls, sandstone cliffs and dells. The park is centered on a stream that flows out of Matthiessen Lake and into the Vermilion River. Over time, the stream has eroded the sandstone leaving big drops, rock formations and huge waterfalls. The largest of which is Cascade Falls, which empties directly from the lake into the beginning of the Lower Dells 45 feet below. Minerals in the water discolor the rocks, and mineral springs attract deer seeking out salt to lick.

Visitors should prepare for a lot of rock hopping any time of year when visiting Mattheissen State Park. The water levels were not particularly high on this particular Saturday, but during flooding (especially in the spring and fall) it can be a very soggy hike.

The bottoms of the canyons are notably cooler and provide a habitat for mosses, liverworts, ferns, salamanders, frogs and toads. From the tops of the canyons visitors will find black oaks, red cedars and white oaks, as well as the Canada yew and Canada mayflower, which are usually found much further north. Look up from the canyon floor and you’ll probably catch a glimpse of cliff swallows that make their nests in the eroded canyon walls. I got a good look at a beautiful, big barred owl while we were hiking. He saw me, and he was clearly not impressed. (The feeling was not mutual because I was extremely impressed.)

A handsome barred owl who did not care at all for me.

THAT’S TOO BAD BUDDY BECAUSE I’M A BIG FAN OF YOU.

History:
Frederick William Matthiessen was a German immigrant, philanthropist, industrialist and Mayor of LaSalle, Illinois. He was born in the Hamburg and attended the Freiberg University of Mining and Technology. (There he met met Edward C. Hegeler, a fellow engineering student studying mining.) Matthiessen and Hegeler became pals and immigrated to the United States together in 1856 and set up their zinc smelter on the banks of the Little Vermillion River in LaSalle. They broke ground on their plant on Christmas Eve 1858, which was a problem because the demand for zinc kind of plummeted until 1861 when the Civil War broke out. The following year the arms industry boomed, driving up demand for zinc. Eventually the organization would expand its portfolio to include rolling mills, coal mines, machine shops and what would eventually become the Westclox Company (but that’s a whole different thing.)

Mattheissen Lake, from which the stream feeds down the canyons and into the Little Vermilion River.

So Frederick Matthiessen was a pretty notable figure for where and when he lived. He was also more than very wealthy. The parcel of land that is now known as Matthiessen State Park started off as the Matthiessen family personal estate. During his life there were two mansions, several cottages, a garage, and a private fire station constructed on the 176 acre property. The private park was previously called Deer Park, and his heirs donated the land to the state following his death in 1918. The park was renamed after him in 1943. Today parcels have been added and the park is nearly 2000 acres in size. All the original homes and buildings have since been destroyed, but the concrete bridges and walkways that adorn the canyons were constructed during his lifetime.

Cascade Falls, from above, the tallest fall in the park at 45 feet high.

Future:
The Vermilion River and the Little Vermilion River are two of Illinois’ most scenic natural waterways. Last year a huge parcel of land was donated to the state by its owner Buzzi Unicem, a cement manufacturer. The land has been in the company portfolio for decades, and at this point they’ve probably removed all the minerals they can extract from the land, BUT OKAY. Point is, this particular stretch of land will add 2,629 acres of native, protected land to the Illinois State Park system. The added land will connect both Starved Rock and Matthiessen. This donation will also protect Illinois’ only natural river rapid. (We’ve got one!) Seriously, canoeists will want to put this one on their radar, paddling that stretch of river is amazing. The Illinois Department of Natural Resources is currently planning to restore forest, prairie and wildlife habitats as well as develop trails, a campground, picnic areas and canoe and kayak access. Other recreational opportunities will include skiing, fishing, hunting and horseback riding. This is all just excellent news for the parks in the area, I just want to see the state dedicate the finances it needs to support Starved Rock, Matthiessen and Buffalo Rock state parks. They’re gems.

Dutchman’s Breeches, a charmingly shaped, hilariously named, native floral to the region.

Would recommend the family style chicken you’ll get at Softails in Ladd, Ill. Excellent tavern style chicken and atmosphere. #TavernSunday

The Outdoors are for Everybody: Accessibility Outside

Marengo Ridge Conservation Area has some of the most accessible trails in the Chicago area.

You know how you feel when you’re walking down the trail and it’s quiet and peaceful and maybe it’s a challenging hike but it’s fine because you’re achieved your zen state? You leave feeling tired and refreshed and renewed. That’s pretty much the same for everybody, regardless of their physical abilities. It’s one of the things that makes us human. Unfortunately, not everyone can get into the outdoors easily. I want to think a little bit on making the outdoors accessible to everyone. While ADA-accessible campgrounds and playgrounds do exist, we’ve got a long way to go before we live in an outdoor space that is welcoming and accessible to every American.

The Americans with Disabilities Act was passed in 1990 and requires that all state and local governments must make any building accessible when designing, building, altering, buying, renting, or leasing it. It also reaffirms that agencies are not required to change the character of a wilderness area to make it accessible, but it does protect the rights of anyone using a wheelchair to access that wilderness area. Since 1990 the Forest Service has focused on creating accessible spaces any time facilities are built or renovated, or programming is created. The intention is that anyone who wants to experience outdoor recreation on America’s public lands should have an equal opportunity to do so.

Why accessibility matters:

Accessibility in the outdoors was on my mind while I was writing up my thoughts on Marengo Ridge Conservation Area Thomas Woods Campground, I remembered how well built the trails were, and that these are some of the most ADA-friendly trails in the Chicago area. That was information I wanted to pass onto my younger sister, who before graduating college spent the summer working at a camp for special needs kids and adults in the Prairie du Chien region of Wisconsin. The camp where she worked caters to individuals of all ages with developmental disabilities who want a quality outdoor recreation experience. The camp offers fun, safe and rewarding outdoors programming in a supportive environment to any person with developmental disabilities.

Camp staff administered this supportive and fun programming while simultaneously providing one-on-one care to individual campers. That’s no small task. Individual counselors could be tasked with caring for the needs of a handful of individuals who each need specialized care that requires a great deal of attention. They provided that care while also escorting people in wheelchairs down the trail, to outdoor events, around camp and the region. Depending on that person’s abilities, they may or may not be able to express their needs easily, and anticipating those needs before they become a problem for the camper isn’t easy. It’s a job for very patient people who are very sensitive to the emotions and needs of others.

If, like myself, you’re a person who does not have a disability it can be tough to understand what barriers to entry exist to getting out into nature. I know what keeps me from getting into nature, and it’s things like having the time to get out or being too far away from expansive park systems. I live in the city, I have a full time job, it can be tough. All those same barriers exist for a person with a disability, but with the added challenge of navigating a difficult landscape, accessing sites that will accommodate their needs and dealing with people who for some reason thinks public lands are not intended for people with disabilities.

One of my sister’s more memorable (and rage-inducing) exchanges occurred when she was hiking in a local state park with a group of campers, one of whom uses a wheelchair. The camper was enamored with the beautiful forests of Southwestern Wisconsin in the summertime, even though this particular park wasn’t really accessible. My sister aided this camper by pushing her wheelchair down the path and helping to navigate the rocky terrain that wasn’t built for wheels. They accommodated other hikers by making sure not to block the trail, to make space for passers by and to be as considerate as they could to their fellow hikers. During the hike my sister helped the camper to use the facilities along the trail. During this time a total stranger apparently felt inconvenienced having to wait a few minutes and as my sister put it “she basically told us we don’t belong here.” The incident left my sister feeling down on herself, and it upset the other hikers in their group that day. I hope that lady left feeling pleased with herself for having bullied a group of disabled hikers on a beautiful summer afternoon for nothing more than the crime of trying to go on a hike.

Beyond that, her argument is nonsense. Ableist, offensive nonsense. America’s public lands are for everyone. (Even that lady, and she sounds insufferable.) Public lands are exactly that – for the public. According to the 2010 census, 54 million people “had a disability that significantly limited one or more major life activities, such as walking, seeing, hearing, breathing, and thinking.” Beyond that, because America’s population is aging rapidly, by 2030 80 million people will be 65 or older. That means day-by-day the number of Americans who live with a disability is increasing.

Almost three million American kids have a disability. That can mean anything from hearing, cognitive, mobility or vision difficulties and probably more beyond that. Just like anyone else, they can reap the benefits we all enjoy from the outdoors and nature. Outdoor recreation has the exact same mental and physical benefits for a non-disabled adult as they do for someone with a disability. It’s our job to make sure everyone has access to the outdoors, regardless of their ability. Does that mean we need to pave the dunes in Ludington, Michigan or lower the grade on Hoosier Hill? No, don’t be ridiculous. When making the decision to construct or alter a building, trail, recreation site that already exists it’s vital to ask “how can we design, purchase or build it to ensure that all people have an equal opportunity to use this facility?” We can make our public lands more accessible to everyone using ecologically sound practices that protect our environment, and allow persons with disabilities to reap the benefits of outdoor recreation.

For folks like me who do not (today, at least) have a disability to contend with, can still help out without being huge jerks. When your local park updates a facility, it will do so in line with the Americans with Disabilities Act, but it can still take public pressure to make sure that new programming is equally accessible. If you know someone who has a disability, invite them on a hike with you and help them to enjoy the outdoors. Have patience when you encounter a fellow hiker who has a disability, and be as courteous as you would with any other hiker you meet. Also, don’t assume that if someone is struggling that they need your help, ask if they want your help first.

Trip Report: Marengo Ridge Forest Preserve, Thomas Woods Campground

Name: Marengo Ridge Forest Preserve

Location: 2411 N, IL-23, Marengo, IL 60152

Size: 818 acres of oak and hickory woodlands interspersed with spruce, aspen, ash and sumac groves, as well as open prairies (for which I am smitten).
Activities: Hiking, biking, camping, bicycling, birding, cross country skiing and snowshoeing, canoeing and kayaking, dog walking, fishing, geocaching, hunting, horse trails, snowmobiling, sledding

Reservations: Online
Pros: Stunning wildlife, big skies, secluded camping, excellent birding, quiet hikes, under 60 miles from Chicago.
Cons: I wish the night sky was darker there, but that’s what you get for a campground under 60 miles from Chicago. Thomas Woods Campground is only open Friday-Sunday.

Marengo Ridge Forest Preserve is a beautiful and well maintained park and campground about an hour drive northwest from Chicago. It is managed by the McHenry County Conservation District, which maintains the park, shelters and campsites. The park is small, there are only 5 total miles of hiking within the park but the facilities are clean and well maintained.

Marengo Ridge is a perfect little campground for Chicagoans who want to refresh themselves in a natural environment, but who haven’t got much time for a proper trip or travel. We camped one night at Thomas Woods Campground in the Marengo Ridge Forest Preserve in early May 2018. The goal of the trip was to test out all of our equipment before going to Zion National Park over Memorial Day weekend. The hope was that if it was going to fail, it would fail us at Marengo Ridge (an hour away from our home) and not fail us in Zion (miles away from anything.) We really only spent about 36 hours in Marengo Ridge but saw dozens of varieties of wildflowers and an abundant and varied bird population.

Marengo Ridge offers year-round exclusive-use camping for groups up to 100. The adjacent Thomas Woods Campground is more traditional, with 29 individual tent sites and 18 RV sites that can be reserved.

Thomas Woods Campground is a lovely place. We stayed at campsite 30. Marengo Ridge has a whopping 18 walk-in campsites. I love a walk-in campsite, especially when backpacking to a more remote campsite isn’t possible. Each site is probably no more than 500 feet from the parking lot, but spaced far enough apart to provide sufficient seclusion. I think we were easily a quarter mile away from the nearest people, once the sun went down.

Each site is equipped with a tent pad, picnic table and a fire ring with a cooking grate. If you ask nicely when you check in, and pay the campground resident a moderate amount of money, someone will bring firewood directly to your campsite (so no need to worry about hauling it there yourself.) Water supplies are abundant, clear and taste fine. Vault toilets were maintained and tidy.

Marengo Ridge was created when the Wisconsin Glacier retreated 24,000 years ago. The Marengo Ridge moraine is 40 miles long, 3 miles wide and is one of the steepest moraines in Illinois. Early settlers found this hard to farm, so large swaths of the region are untouched by loggers. You can get a really stunning view of the landscape the glacier created by standing at Shelter #2 within the park.

Parts of the land had been used heavily for grazing livestock until it was bought in 1950 and work began to reforest the area, which included planting 15 species of conifers, which aren’t native to the area but did thrive. There are over 10,000 pine trees across 60 acres including Norway Spruce, Douglas fir and Scotch pine in the forest preserve.

Today Marengo Ridge works to remove invasive species and conduct prescribed burns. There are over 300 native plants and wildflowers that thrive in Marengo Ridge (and a beautiful floral show was on display while we visited.) Wildflowers include: wild geranium, columbine, jack-in-the-pulpit, mayapples, bloodroot, asters, shooting stars, black-eyed Susans, phlox, violets and a variety of prairie grasses. Birds abound here, including great-horned owls, wild turkeys, Eastern kingbirds, Broad-winged hawks and plenty of songbirds.

Myakka River State Park, Florida

Name: Myakka River State Park
Location: 13208 State Road 72, Sarasota, FL 34241

Size: 37,000 acres, 14 miles of Myakka River itself within the park, 38.9 miles of nature trails including a canopy-level suspension bridge available to hikers and researchers
Created: Myakka River State Park is one of the largest and oldest parks in Florida, it was delineated in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps
Activities: Hiking, biking, backpacking, camping, bicycling, birding, canoeing and kayaking, boat tours are very popular here
Pros: Stunning wildlife, big skies, remote camping, excellent birding, great hikes
Cons: Can be crowded and busy around the visitors center, try to get there early in the day if you plan on taking a boat tour as the wait can get quite long

Camp Thunderbird Vitamin D Intensive Excursion

Dave and I boarded a plane to Sarasota last February to visit his retiree parents in Florida. Normally, when we head down there our trip tends to overlap with spring break so we coordinate with his brother’s kids’ school schedule. That year, we weren’t able to make it happen, so Dave and I went down over Presidents’ Day Weekend.

Retiree vacation is awesome, you guys. Florida trips with kids tend to revolve entirely around the kids and their schedules and their needs. And that’s all fine and good, sure. But a couple of thirtysomething adults hanging out with a couple of sixtysomething adults, operating on their sixtysomething schedule is the life, man. Wake up around 8 or 9 a.m. Get mad at the news. Eat some breakfast. Go kayaking for an hour or so. Then lunch. Then naptime, or reading for a while. Maybe you’ll visit the beach in time for sunset. Maybe your parents’ retired friends brought enough daquiris to share on the beach. Then you eat a half rack of ribs, drink a glass of wine with an ice cube in it and go to bed at 9:30 p.m. Retiree life is great.

Some kind of toothy critter. Raccoon maybe?

Dave and I did take one day to go on a nice, long hike as long as we were in Florida in February which is the ideal season for hiking down there. Temperatures hung around 80 degrees. There were no pesky bugs. The sky was clear and blue and big. We chose Myakka River State Park because we could drive there in about 45 minutes from where we were staying and because we could get probably an 8 or 9 mile hike in. That’s long enough to take all day, but not long enough to totally exhaust you. We were on vacation, after all.

There was very little planning done between deciding on Myakka River and deciding on which trail in the park. There are almost 40 miles of trails in the park, many of them leading to remote, primitive campsites. This would be an ideal place for wintertime backpacking, if someone wanted to spend a night on a dry prairie possibly surrounded by Florida panthers.

If Florida still looked like this everywhere, we’d probably all be in better shape.

We arrived at the Visitors Center, got the lay of the land, and chose to leave our car parked in the main lot by the lake while we hiked to Ranch House Road, past Bee Island and then around the dry prairie for a while until the sun began to wane.

A marker where the ranch house the road was named after used to be.

The wildlife at Myakka River State Park is stunning. We saw huge flocks of ducks, herons, ravens, Ibis, egret and probably others I didn’t recognize. As we were driving in, Dave noticed a rather large ground snail right in the middle of the paved road and navigated around so he didn’t run over it. As we were passing, he noticed the nearby raven clearly keeping an eye on things. I’m pretty sure this raven knows that cars crack open delicious snails when they run over them. I’m pretty sure this raven tried to use us a tool. Ravens are really smart, you guys.

While we were out on the prairie, we saw evidence of what I suspect was the Florida panther. Big cats have been making a comeback in recent years (praise hands emoji) and there have been sightings in the region. The evidence that I saw was a very large, furry scat.

Myakka River has two of what they claim are the world’s largest airboats. That’s probably true, I didn’t investigate. We arrived shortly after noon to find a Visitors Center bustling with bored-looking tourists. I guess the airboat tour is very popular, and I can see why, but no small part of the reason we came to the park was to wander about in the solitude of nature. So we quickly walked away. If you wanted to take the airboat tour, I would recommend arriving early in the day before things get too crowded. We did have ice cream and bought beer coozies in the visitors center, so I can easily endorse ice cream and beer coozies.

I mean, herons are pretty much the most gorgeous birds that ever was.

(Also they totally look like dinosaurs.)

Wildlife spotted:
Anole, Black vulture, Blue heron, Crocodile, Ground dove, Tricolored heron, Snowy Egret, Red-Shouldered hawk, Coconut palm, Spanish moss, Cabbage palmetto, waterlilies, asters, ferns