Today stopped going as planned around 2am. I’d like to say that a particularly biblical peal of thunder roused me from slumber, but it was more likely the cacophonous lashing of rain on my hut’s glorious roof. Either way, I was up, and it was wet outside. Nothing to be done, I watched a few flashes, slid my metal-filled pack a foot further away, and, with my safety assured, dropped back to sleep. It’d be over by morning.
It was not over by morning. What followed then was, for me, a very unusual event: a leisurely morning, as I waited for the system to play itself out. It was difficult to lose a couple of prime hiking hours, but I had a rabbit in my hat. Having pored over the gps tracks, I spotted a brilliant shortcut. All that I needed to do was cross over the “Old Iron Bridge” and I’d magically shave 10+ miles off of the day’s walk. Brilliant.
As the downpour downsized to drizzle, I donned the waterproofs and hit the trail. And oh man, it was soggy. I ruefully thought back on yesterday’s wish that the spiderwebs be eliminated. Indeed they were, along with almost every inch of secure footing. Before long, I had pounds of unwanted clay gripping my soles, making every descent an adventure and each climb an embarrassing struggle.
But it’s ok–I was in a good mood. It was slow going, but that shortcut was going to solve a lot of problems.
At long last, I arrived at the Old Iron Bridge. I was almost giddy. Who doesn’t love a good shortcut? And not only would this save me time, it would also free me from the sloppy trail, getting me back onto reliable pavement. I slipped through tall grass, following a narrow footpath, and faced the aged structure for the first time in person. It was exactly what I had seen in pics online–the bridge’s surface was long gone, but beams remained, spanning the Blue River below. Those beams were secure, rock solid, and in a couple of places pairs of beams lay side-by-side, making for much more trustworthy footing. Smiling, I started shuffling across. My heartbeat was oddly relaxed; screwing up would mean death, but I’d have to really mess up to accomplish that. One step at a time. I could see five sections of the bridge and I mentally checked off each as I passed. Oddly, my heartbeat only accelerated after I crossed the third, as though the stakes raised as I approached the end.
I made it. I delicately transitioned off of the beams onto a cement foundation post, perhaps three feet wide. And then I realized the error of my ways. This was not the end. Another section of the Old Iron Bridge awaited. Unlike the portion that I just crossed, this showed all kinds of disrepair. The double-beams were gone. OK, I figured, I can do the rail shimmy–placing my feet sideways on the beam closest to the rail, while holding the railing with both hands. It’s not graceful, but it works. Problem: The railing on part of each side was hanging loosely, offering zero hope of stability. Additional problem: the beams had some give to them. I stared at this betrayal for minutes, outraged, heartbroken, fatalistic, bereft. I think I could have made it, but ultimately I don’t want to die, and that’s too much risk for my taste. I turned around and shuffled back across the first half of the bridge.
I walked angry. I stalked the Adventure Trail like a boar with a toothache, crashing through branches and snorting with derision. The greatest indignation was knowing that each mile I walked, north or east, would have to be undone later on–I was just working my way inward to the next bridge over the Blue River, so that I could cross it and them immediately turn back to the southwest.
I spat venom in my mind at the ADT creators. Their plan for this section infuriated me. Imagine that a clock is a map of the O’Bannon Woods State Park, where the Adventure Trail is located. The ADT enters it at the 3. It then proceeds, clockwise, to the 12, where it follows a highway to the bridge over the river. (For the sake of thoroughness: the Old Iron Bridge is at the 9.) Now, this must mean that there’s a big ‘ol impediment between the 12 and the 3, right? Maybe a fork of the Blue River, or a giant craggy mountain? No, no. Do you want to know what’s between the 12 and the 3? It’s the rest of the Adventure Trail. Yes, that’s right–you could just walk that directly and save the rest of the loop.
I had considered that in my planning but, of course, I had that brilliant shortcut lined up.
Damn.
The day gradually warmed up, but I walked without regard for much. At some point, I should have transitioned out of the waterproofs. I didn’t. At noon, I thought: I should have been in Leavenworth by now. At 1pm, I thought: I should have been finishing my break in Leavenworth by now. At 2pm, I thought: I am never going to make it to Leavenworth.
Fact check: I made it there at 4pm, settling in at Stephenson’s General Store, a pure slice of Americana with a coin-operated laundromat adjacent. I ordered food, changed clothes in the bathroom, and then got a load of laundry going. And gradually, I came back to life. I looked at my food and ate it slowly. I looked at the wall in front of me, reading every sign. I studied the older woman working the food counter, silently hunched over her reading. A man worked the cashier up front; likewise, he employed his words economically. As I slowly processed each wall, my breathing leveled out and I began to plan out the rest of the day. My goal was 15 miles further on; I’d be leaving around 5pm. There was just enough daylight to finish the job if I walked well. I’d give it a go.
It quickly became apparent, though, that I was in no condition to walk well. The total self-neglect of the preceding 20 miles left my legs chafed and generally unhappy. If I stopped walking soon, it would probably heal overnight; if I pushed onward to stay on schedule, I’d probably be miserable for the next three or four days.
I was going to push on. It’s what I do. I descended to old town Leavenworth, which is really just a glorified RV Park on the Ohio River at this point, and I hobbled along a gravel track through a lovely wooded section. I was in a better mood, but I was uncomfortable. I hoped that once I got in a mile or two, things would just warm up and improve–that happens all the time–but it did not happen this time.
Just before the route returned me to the highway, a pair of dogs started barking at me. Their owners, working in their yard, called them back. I waved; the homeowners waved back. I kept walking. And then, 30 feet later, I froze. What was I doing? Pushing farther today served no good and here was a family that seemed receptive. I could make the ask. But then I’d be off schedule! And the only way I’m ever off schedule is when I’m ahead of it!
Eventually, the grown-up voice won. I turned around, introduced myself, explained I had hoped to go further but didn’t feel up to it, and asked if I could camp. They immediately acceded, and helped me find a good patch with shade. They asked if I needed anything else, but I was well stocked from Leavenworth. 15 minutes later, the husband returned with a paper bag filled with five bottles of water, two frozen. An hour later, he showed up to warn me that thunderstorms were in the forecast; if I needed shelter, he told me the cab of his red truck was unlocked and available.
No storms ever came, but it occurred to me as I drifted off that, for all the struggles I’ve experienced when asking for camp space, on this occasion–when I really, actually, was in need and expressed it–people were quick to come through.
Technical Notes:
-
- I don’t recommend trying to cross the Old Iron Bridge
-
- For all my complaints, I did enjoy my night in the Indian Creek Overlook Shelter. It’s a really nice shelter, complete with two picnic benches outside. The camp facilities in the main campground are solid as well, though the place was oddly empty
-
- The Adventure Hiking Trail is nice enough walking, but I just don’t think the pay-off is sufficient to justify the many extra miles. I’d turn right off of the Old Forest Road
-
- The Wyandotte Caves would be cool to see, but they’re only operational on weekends
- Stephenson General Store is just off the ADT, but it’s well worth visiting, for prepared food or some basic groceries
