July 9, 2018 Frontenac State Park: Taking a Hike

On the Fourth of July we went to Frontenac State Park and decided to join a hiking club in which you visit all the state parks and do the hike set aside for the club members. As you go, you accrue miles and get rewards of some sort. Sounds good, so far, right? We set out to find the chosen path.

I got out the only mosquito spray we had. Sam looked at it and said with astonishing prescience: “The active ingredient is lemongrass?? The mosquitos are going to be laughing at this.” I boasted about its effectiveness, words I had to eat later. We opted to leave our big heavy cameras and the water bottles in the car, so we didn’t have to carry anything. You can probably guess which of those items we regretted leaving behind. What were we thinking??

The beginning was at the top, looking out over the Mississippi River and Lake Pepin. It was glorious!

The description of the 2.6 mile hike contained disturbing words like “challenging” and “demanding,” but it was breezy and didn’t at all feel like the 90+ degree weather that it was by the time we started out around noon. We were young then.

At first it was all downhill, easy stuff. I was stopping regularly to take photos with my phone of all sorts of flora and one fauna (a daddy-long-legs – does that count?).

The thought kept popping up that we were going to have to come back uphill, but I batted it away, like one of the pesky mosquitos that were beginning to plague us the further downhill we got. Eventually we were in a valley with nary a breeze to be found and it felt like we’d walked into an inferno. I think at that precise moment, the hike ceased to be fun. The mosquitos had formed into a phalanx using military precision to ambush us from all sides. We discovered that we’d missed a turn and had to go back to find it. I felt an irrational panic bubbling up, pulled out my inner Eeyore, and began to fear that the elements had not only conquered us, but also were planning to leave our desiccated, mosquito-bite ridden bodies here for eternity.

All too soon, we started the uphill portion of the hike. It was still insanely hot and humid, but I had to put on my jacket to protect my arms from the swarms of mosquitos that appeared to be of the lemongrass-loving variety. Kris and Sam were pretty stoic about the mosquito barrage, the searing heat and the exertion of going uphill, so I tried to follow their example. Nevertheless, that good man that I married sensed my distress and began offering up encouraging words now and again, like “We’re probably well over halfway through the hike by now!” It turned out we weren’t, but it felt good to hear it. I picked up a fallen cluster of oak leaves and used it to fan myself, which simultaneously looked silly and was almost entirely ineffective.

At last, we came to a sign that said “Trail ends in 75 feet!” Hallelujah! Oh, joy! I commented on the thoughtfulness of putting in a sign like that to encourage the weary traveler. And then we came to the end of the trail and realized it wasn’t the end of the hike, just a little detour to bring us to an overlook. Eeyore reappeared, more despairing than ever, thinking of things like heat stroke. Don’t judge me too harshly – I’m almost 60 years old and more of an avid indoorsman. I’m one of the few people left in the world for whom “sedentary” is not a dirty word. Back we went to find the hiking club sign and rejoin the trail.

At about mile 200 (exaggerating is a coping mechanism – just ignore it), it appeared that we might be within striking distance of the end and so great was my desire to get back to the top and, I’ll admit, our air-conditioned car, that I broke out in a run. It might be more accurate to say that I broke out in a gentle jog, barely faster than walking. Still, for the first time, I was ahead of the pack! That flush of energy was tapped out after about 10 paces. Sam heroically volunteered to run on ahead and get the car started with the AC on. Praise God from whom all blessings flow, sang my heart. Before long, our maiden hike in the Hiking Club was over and we were basking in the sheer wonder of air conditioning – don’t ever take it for granted.

After all that, you may think that the Hiking Club has lost its allure for me, but au contraire! “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance…” There’s something to be said for emerging at the other end of the trial – er, trail – having persevered and picked up a little endurance along the way. There may be a day when the elements overcome us, but it was not this day!!

We also learned a few useful things, like the wisdom of doing summer hikes early in the morning before the heat of the day, and bringing little knapsacks in which to keep water bottles and nature guides. I’m ready for the next hike!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Next Hike: Rice Lake State Park