Wildcat Hollow: December 9, 2020

Keeping my writing up-to-date is one of my numerous New Year’s resolutions. I struggle to write as often as I’d like, despite the fact that, if I’m honest with myself, I really do have the time. But instead of updating my blog I sometimes decide to do things like binging all of The Queen’s Gambit in one night. I justify this by telling myself that I can crochet while watching TV, so it’s not a waste of time. But in reality, I only get half of a cactus done because my eyes end up glued to the screen. Ah, well. It’s something to work on.

Anyway, let’s talk about hiking! Back in December Wiggs and I took a day to explore a new (to us) hiking area in Ohio called Wildcat Hollow. It was a beautiful day, a fun ride, and a great place to hike.

Puffballs and their spores

To The Trail

We got a somewhat decently early start on the morning of December 9, packing lunch and snacks and heading east out of Columbus. The drive was easy at first, following I-70 before an exit onto OH-33 and then a series of smaller county routes. The road grew smaller and narrower, until it was a gravel path passing small towns and abandoned houses and leading into Wayne National Forest. Finally we located the trailhead, parked, and began our day.

I don’t know why we didn’t think to bring overnight gear. There are several great-looking campsites right by the parking lot, and there is a Forest Service privy right at the trailhead. Dispersed camping is also allowed, and we passed numerous sites throughout the day, though the water quality might be doubtful considering the heavy agricultural activity in the area. We kicked ourselves for this oversight all day. We passed up a chance to sleep in the woods! But now we know, and we will be back.

Wiggs and the carnivorous sign-eating tree

The Hike

It was a glorious day. Everything was bathed in a warm, golden light as we began the hike in the muddy valley. The trail forked right, and climbed a small hill to a ridge line. Though it was winter and the woods were lacking in color, the sunlight and blue sky made up for the absence of foliage. As I breathed in I was thrown back to Georgia in March on the Appalachian Trail: no green, no shade, but crisp chilly sunlight, fresh air, and the excitement of everything that lay ahead.

The trail at Wildcat Hollow is well maintained for the most part, and the hiking was fairly easy. We followed the ridge for a while, then dipped down into a valley. This pattern repeated for a while: ridgeline cruising, valley creek crossing. Ridge, valley, creek. We also stumbled upon a beaver bog, punctuated by gnawed-down trees. I crouched quietly behind a stump for a few moments, hoping to see the creators of the wetland. None appeared, but I always love seeing the evidence of their engineering.

We also found a large fallen tree riddled with moss and puffballs. Wiggs poked them, coaxing a cloud of spores out into the forest. There was also, less beautifully but no less interesting, a slowly deteriorating TV with its magic board of switches and sensors strewn about the forest floor. How did this TV get here? And how many mushroom spores have brushed against its forever-lasting plastic and metal?

Natural intricacies

I felt good on this hike, almost as good as I did on the AT. I’ve been running a lot over the past few months, as I want to run a half-marathon in 2021. I felt better than I remembered on any recent day hike, like the climbs barely affected me and like I could go on and on. Wiggs and I meandered in and out of conversation, sometimes about what was around us, other times about what was not. We always orbit back to the Appalachian Trail, reminiscing, then fly away again to other worlds. Until I hike another long trail, this will be the gravity around which I stake my life.

We had a quick lunch after about five miles, and then we headed back the way we came. I cut my hand on a branch and nearly fell into a creek, but such are the usual casualties of a good day of hiking. We finished the loop we had started, passing first an RV and then a small house before heading back into the woods, around another ridge, and downhill to the valley where we started. We bade the mushrooms and trees and sunlight adieu, and got into the car.

I wished we’d thought to look up camping before we left, but it was still nice to spend a day outside. It was a bit of a trek from Columbus, but I’d still be more than happy to go back for a campfire and a clear spring morning among the trees.

Go beavers!

Location and Information

Go see it for yourself! Wildcat Hollow is located in Wayne National Forest, about 40 minutes north of Athens and 1 hour and 45 minutes southeast of Columbus. There is a five-mile day hike loop and a 17.1-mile backpacking loop. The hiking is mild and it is possible to complete a long day hike fairly quickly. A USFS vault toilet and several excellent campsites await at the parking lot, and dispersed camping is also allowed on the trails. I might suggest bringing enough water for the whole trip, however, as the area sees a lot of agricultural activity and the water in the creeks may be iffy.

More information about the area can be found at the Forest Service website.

A printable trail map is also available.

Enjoy!

A wild Wiggs at the Wildcat Hollow sign

Zaleski Epilogue: A Small Quest

After completing our little Zaleski State Forest backpacking loop on October 30, we loaded up in Wiggs’s car and hit the road. We did not go straight back to Columbus, however. Instead, my very nice boyfriend agreed to reroute half an hour west so that I could visit three Ohio History Passport locations: Leo Petroglyphs, Story Mound, and Logan Elm.

If my trail name is any indication, I love a good passport. I love collecting stamps and badges. I love tangible evidence of having been somewhere. While on the Appalachian Trail I looked forward to getting a stamp in my AT Passport at a store or restaurant, and I missed this quest when the hike was over. So when Wiggs’s dad gave me an Ohio History Connection Passport, I was very excited. This booklet contains a page for each of the organization’s 56 sites across the state. At the bottom of each page is a trivia question about the site, followed by a space for either a stamp or a pencil rubbing of the site sign. I have a handful of stamps, answers, and pencil markings so far, but I am always looking for a chance to collect more. Leo Petroglyphs wasn’t terribly far from Zaleski, or so it seemed on Google Maps, and so we headed in that direction first.

Bye, Zaleski! Thanks for a fun (if rainy) few days!

Site 1: Leo Petroglyphs and Nature Preserve

We didn’t have cell service at the parking lot, so we headed vaguely in the direction of the town of Zaleski. We reasoned that we would have service once we got there, but this did not exactly pan out. We managed to scrape 3G out of one corner of the town, which put us on track to get to the site. Half an hour later, we were rumbling down a gravel road.

“Uh… I don’t think this is the right way,” Wiggs said nervously. We were approaching a house, and the road was becoming narrower.

“Well, let’s just see where this goes.”

Sure enough, it went right up to someone’s house. Not a cul-de-sac, not another road – genuinely, this was someone’s long gravel driveway, and there was someone’s dog running out of the house barking maniacally. Tension rose palpably between us as the dog kept trying to run out in front of the car, while Wiggs tried to inch away from it, until finally we got far enough away that the dog left us alone. We found another normal-sized paved road, turned right, and were back on track.

Ten minutes later we reached the small site of Leo Petroglyphs. We took a walk around beautiful nature preserve, which featured a lovely creek cutting through mossy sandstone overhangs. And of course we admired the centuries-old petroglyphs carved into the rock. Though we aren’t sure of the exact dates, it can be surmised that these symbols were carved by the Fort Ancient culture, who also constructed several complexes of mounds further south in Ohio.

I had seen petroglyphs in Arizona before this – they’re all over the place – but never in the midwest, or anywhere in the eastern United States. It was jarring to see them here, inside a wooden structure by the side of the road in Ohio farmland. It’s easier to forget that we are on stolen land when we are somewhere like this, a thoroughly settled agricultural area, deeply entrenched in the white American psyche. But there are still reminders that we were not the first.

One of the petroglyphs carved into the Sharon sandstone at Leo Petroglyphs by the Fort Ancient culture between ~900-1500 A.D.

Site 2: Story Mound

After Leo Petroglyphs we traveled north towards Chillicothe, which was ostensibly on the way home, but ended up being a bit of a hilarious side trip. We were getting slightly hungry by this point, so we navigated towards McDonald’s once we got to the town and took our fries and ice cream to our next destination: Story Mound.

Ohio is positively covered in mounds built by the Adena, Hopewell, and Fort Ancient peoples. Story Mound, according to my passport, was built by the Adena people between 800 B.C. and A. D. 100. I knew it was smaller than other mounds I had visited, but when we rolled up to the pocket park smack dab in the middle of a neighborhood, I realized the scope and couldn’t help but laugh. Then I really laughed when I saw the gate in the fence surrounding the mound: it was padlocked.

Undeterred, I snapped a photo and answered the question in my passport. I couldn’t get a stamp because said stamp is located in the Adena Mansions and Gardens site, which was by then closed for the season. But I don’t mind. I will get it one day.

We finished our snack and I got out of the car to shake all of the fry dust off of my disheveled post-hike outfit. Then we got back on the highway for one more stop.

We couldn’t actually get into the park to visit Story Mound, but we saw it from the street!

Site 3: Logan Elm

“It’s literally just off the highway. Look.” I held out the map so Wiggs could see its proximity to our location. I felt like I was pushing my luck, but I wanted to get just one last stop in. He ultimately agreed, and we headed towards Logan Elm.

I’m still not exactly sure of the full extent of the story of Logan Elm. From what I can gather, there was a revered chief of the Cayuga Native American tribe named Logan, who married a Shawnee woman and moved to Ohio. Originally friendly with white settlers, he rightfully changed his stance when they lied and killed many of his people, including his mother and sister. Logan sought revenge, killing many white settlers in the area, and then delivered a powerful message under a massive elm tree. He spent the rest of his life fighting white invaders and trying to prevent them from settling in what was then called Ohio Country.

Today the site of Logan’s speech is marked at Logan Elm Memorial. The elm tree under which Chief Logan spoke has long since died, but the site of the speech is marked and a new elm has been planted. It is a field of monuments to Logan, his speech, his family, and his people. It was cold when we were there, and the wind cut across the open field and through our layers.

It struck me as we left that many of the Ohio History Passport sites – and all three of the sites that we visited on this day – are locations that were sacred to Native American people. I don’t know that I ever thought about Ohio in terms of its indigenous origins, but almost every site I have visited so far is significant to the Hopewell, Adena, Fort Ancient, or Shawnee people. In addition to collecting stamps and getting to see more of Ohio, these visits are reminding me over and over that this country was stolen. The hills and mounds and fields bear that truth more than I had ever realized.

What am I doing with that information? Are we learning? I am trying to be more intentional about researching the indigenous people who first took care of the land I walk on, and who take care of it still. I am trying to learn more, give more, and be more aware. I have a long way to go.

The memorial at Logan Elm, which bears Logan’s speech that took place at this location.

The Mini Adventure Ends

Having visited Logan Elm, we turned back onto OH-23 and headed north to Columbus. On the way back, Wiggs and I talked about adventures, family trips, and little destinations. We compared our experiences of childhood road trips and reflected on the potential for joy even close to home.

It has been hard on me not to be able to travel this year. Wiggs and I had planned to hike in Scotland, and then I was going to do part of the Camino with my mom. Instead we did a sweltering eight-day hike in Kentucky, and now I am running around Ohio collecting stamps and rubbings at historical sites. And I love it. The day will come when I am traveling farther again, when the virus is over, and that will be a good day. But I know will miss these weird little journeys, these wet Ohio backpacking trips, and these small moments of simple joy learning about the places that are already around me. Whether it is a mound in a locked park in an Ohio neighborhood, or summit at the end of a very long hike, there are destinations and places worthy of reroutes everywhere.