Tuesday, September 27, 2022 Mille Lacs Kathio State Park: Trumpets and Steep Inclines

First of all, let’s settle the issue of pronunciation. A friend had told us she thought it was pronounced “Kat-TEE-oh,” so the first thing we did when we got there was ask the lady at the park office. “Oh,” she said, “We all just pronounce it “Kathy-oh.” It’s a made-up word anyway – more about that later.

We packed up all our gear at Father Hennepin State Park and made our way over to Mille Lacs Kathio State Park, which is closer to the southwestern edge of the lake, starting the 3.2 mile hike around 9:50 a.m. It was 53 degrees, much nicer than hiking in the heat. The trail description mentioned the words “hilly,” and “one fairly steep incline,” so I decided to use my hiking poles just in case. Unlike the trail at Father Hennepin, the trail here would not take us anywhere near Mille Lacs Lake itself.

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If you come to MLK, prepare to be educated as you go. There are about 30 historic sites of former Dakota villages, and archeologists have come along to do their thing in those. Lots of signs with information. You won’t actually see most of those sites on the hike – just a few.

We started out and didn’t get far before we were hearing the most jarring noises coming from somewhere in the park. It was clearly some sort of animal call, but what on earth? Were they in pain? It wasn’t long before we got to the first village, the Cooper Site, from which we could see the swampy Ogechie Lake and deduced that whatever was making that noise was out on the lake. Out in that reedy expanse, we saw some white waterfowl, which upon closer inspection proved to be swans. Well, now we know what trumpeter swans sound like. They could give peacocks a run for their money if there was a competition for most awful sounding bird call.

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We wandered around the site reading signs and then went onward. Because of the Picture This app, we are beginning to feel like expert botanists, identifying plants and trees as we go.

It wasn’t long before we arrived at the next village, the Wilford Site, where there were more signs to read and more views of Ogechie Lake. We found out that the lake used to be a source of wild rice for the native peoples. At some point, the wild rice stopped growing (I don’t remember why – I think I took a photo of the information though), and now scientists and botanists are trying to find a way to bring it back. We wish them providential blessings in their endeavor.

There was also something called a “datum” at this site. I thought it was interesting but now I can’t remember why. I think I took a photo of that sign, too. We shall hope for some illumination on the topic when I review the photos. I’m too lazy to quit writing and go look at them now.

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After leaving the noisy shores of Ogechie Lake, our trail brought us inland, “through the hilly hardwood forest of the Mille Lacs moraine.” Hilly, it certainly was. I was glad I’d brought the hiking poles. I now know that whenever the word “moraine” appears in a hiking description, it is virtually synonymous with “hilly.” Noted. Although you couldn’t describe the weather as getting hot (it was only 66 degrees when we finished), the word “humid,” would not have been inappropriate. I took off my jacket, which was the signal that all the mosquitos in the park were waiting for. They were especially pleased that my hands were occupied with holding the hiking poles, so they had unfettered access to my arms. Do I sound bitter?

I was keeping an eye out for that “one steep incline,” but after encountering five of them, I quit counting. Perhaps it all hinges on the definition of that word “steep.” Kris kept up a merry pace and I, as usual, was taking more photos and lagging behind, stopping occasionally after one of those steep inclines to catch my breath. The whole trail, all 3.2 miles of it, was in the shade, by the way. Very nice. While we’re having a breather, I’ll let you in on why the word “Kathio,” became the name of the park. A Frenchman named Duluth was trying to write the word phonetically that the Dakota Indians used for their great village, something like “Izatys,” but also seen sometimes as “Isanti.” So far, so good. Then someone else, who probably doesn’t want to be named, translated Duluth’s journal and in a moment of spectacular inattention, came up with “Kathio,” which doesn’t sound anything like the original word, nor does it mean anything. How embarrassing for him that his big mistake has lived on in the name of the park. He’d cringe, no doubt.

I realized that I was no longer hearing the cicadas. I guess the Day of the Cicada is over already. We soldiered on through the moraine and many steep inclines later came to the end, definitely a “hallelujah” moment for me.

As we were driving out of the park, Kris decided to stop at the 100-foot observation tower and climb to the top. There was no discussion about whether or not I’d like to join him – no words were needed. I stayed in the car and did the Wordle O’ the Day.

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Knee score: 6-7 out of 10. Equivalent of 14 flights of stairs.

I’ll probably delete this when the trumpeter swans quit playing their awful music.

Next hike: Lake Bemidji State Park