Carley State Park: Perilous Journey

Our latest venture was to Carley State Park in southeastern Minnesota. The hike was only 1.8 miles, so we figured it wouldn’t take long and then we could go to John A. Latsch State Park right on the Minnesota/Wisconsin border, not too far from Carley. As it turned out, It took us over 2 hours to do the “1.8 mile hike,” which turned into 3.3 miles due to various detours and unforeseen perils. Come along with us as I turn molehills into mountains. It’s what I do.

The hike started out per usual: nice trail, me taking photos of flowers and greenery, etc.

The trail ran alongside a small river (let’s call it a babbling brook, just for fun). The weather was perfect and it was one of those “God’s in His heaven and all’s right with the world” moments. Then we came to the first bridge. Or what should have been the first bridge.

We stared somewhat uncomprehendingly at the clearly un-bridged expanse of water and wondered if we’d gone astray from the route. Nope. We contemplated walking through the river to the other side, but weren’t sure how deep it was going to get. Hmm…time to regroup. We checked the map and realized that if we went a little farther, we could veer off the trail and get back to a road taking us back to where we started. The hiking trail was a big circle, so we could then just do it in reverse. Easy peasy!

Naturally, the flat little line on the map turned out to be a path that went straight up hill.

Huffing and puffing was involved on my part, as well as a short breather along the way. But no matter, we got to the road and went back to the beginning. “Fool, fool, back to the beginning is the rule.” A good motto for writing is to bring in a quote from the Princess Bride whenever possible.

We started off again, still in good spirits. We passed a father with his two young sons carrying little fishing poles. It was so sweet, like a Norman Rockwell painting. And then we came to another “bridge.” You could actually see concrete blocks as a bridge for this one, but some of them were submerged and the water was rushing over them fairly swiftly. Again, we stopped to ponder our options. Kris thought maybe we could just take off our socks and shoes and cross over with bare feet. As we watched, another couple did that very thing and it looked like shaky, slippery business the whole way for them.

In addition, the first part of the crossing had no stepping stone and looked fairly muddy and deep. We were carrying some expensive technology (two phones and a camera) and it seemed a little risky. I think Kris would have gone for it, but I was really hesitant, so we looked at the map again for a way to redeem this hike.

While we were standing there, a red admiral butterfly took a liking to my blue jeans. Fauna!

We decided to go off the hiking club trail in order to find another way to get back on the trail without crossing the river. At this point, our main goal was to hike until we found the password and then turn back (you don’t get credit for the hike unless you know the password). This was going to take us a fair amount out of our way, but we were starting to feel grimly determined to conquer Carley State Park and its wily ways. “You will not defeat us!” was our battle cry.

We walked on and suddenly found ourselves back to the beginning again. Oops – it appeared we took a wrong turn. Kris joked that it was like being in Mirkwood Forest – all roads lead back to the spiders. It turned out that I had left the back door open to the car, so it’s just as well we came back. We realized that we could drive to another part of the park, pick up one of the other trails and join up with the Hiking Club Trail at a point across the river from the second “bridge” (I’m going to keep putting that in quotes, because I don’t consider a bunch of uneven concrete blocks to be a standard bridge and that’s final. In my mind, I’m composing a letter to the park staff which reads, “You keep using the word ‘bridge.’ I do not think that word means what you think it means.”)

Off we went. “You will not defeat us!!” The next launching point was higher up and as we started out, we realized that (a) this trail wasn’t cleared very well, and (b) it was full of nettles. I put my jacket on and we proceeded through the jungle (where’s a good machete when you need one?).

We stopped at an overlook and saw the river far below. I was rapidly losing the bold, adventuresome spirit of the thing as I contemplated going down muddy trails and then coming back up them on the way back. It’s a good thing I have a hiking partner who isn’t a quitter.

We encountered a tree blocking the trail on the way down, but by this time, we were becoming used to the appearance of roadblocks and merely walked through the brush on the side of the trail to get around it.

Once we joined back up with the HC Trail, it was now just going to be a short little jaunt to find the password and then turn back. Or so we thought… In reality, we hadn’t gone far when lo and behold, we came to YET ANOTHER “BRIDGE.” Sigh… Kris was not going to be denied this time and started across since this one looked decently passable, although somewhat dicey on the other side and some of the blocks were partially under water.

He made it look easy, so I followed suit and it wasn’t bad until the last part, which instead of a block was a small boulder as a stepping stone – hardly even above the water. It looked like a perfect place to slip and fall, but Kris grabbed my hand from the river bank and helped me across. My hero! I have to admit, it was somewhat exhilarating to have made it through that gauntlet. “You will not defeat us!!”

Shortly after that we come to another “bridge.” It started out with a few small boulders as stepping stones, but we managed to get across this one without falling in as well. We’re getting the hang of it! Our hiking boots hadn’t gotten completely submerged either time, which seemed like a major victory over the elements.

Now, where is that password sign? We walked uphill and down and the trail was slim and muddy. I was mincing along like the old person that I am, being especially cautious not to slip and fall in the mud. At last we came to a sign, which read “Caution.” “Look!” I said, “The password is ‘caution!'” I thought it was worth a try.

We trudged on, eventually coming to an actual bridge, which ironically had no water under it. Go figure. Shortly after that, we found the magical password sign, and I’m not going to tell you what it was either – why should I deprive you of having the same invigorating experience that we had in finding it?. We went back to the bridge and had ourselves a celebratory Clif Bar.

We headed back, considerably cheered by our success. When we got to the two “bridges,” we were a little dismayed to see that in the short time since we’d crossed them, the water had risen. It made the trip a bit more perilous; the water rushing over the now-submerged blocks was rapid and somewhat powerful. Our boots got fully soaked this time, but although that river tried many times to defeat us, in the end we smirked at it: “Get used to disappointment.”

And we lived happily ever after…

“Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet, but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

Post Script: We made it to John A. Latsch State Park, too, although there’s no Hiking Club trail there. It’s a bit of a stretch to call it a park. It’s right across the highway from the Mississippi River and there’s a path uphill to an overlook, which we skipped. I suggested we just drive through the park instead, so we did, and it turned out the the drive through was a short loop, no longer than our drive-through driveway. I’m not exaggerating!

The best part was driving on Highway 61 on the way back home – it’s a beautiful road that goes alongside the river for quite a way. We kept seeing signs for “fallen rocks” and Kris informed me that we’d know them when we saw them because they’d be the ones on the side of the road looking sad because they’d given in to temptation. That’s the kind of humor I’m privileged to get on a regular basis being married to this wonderful man.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. But not before thanking my BIL Rich for working his photo wizardry with the park sign photos again.

Next Hike: Afton State Park