Month: March 2015

I have found my new go-to state park. Other parks with secluded campsites are within an hour of Minneapolis (Lake Maria, Afton and Wild River), but I decided I was perfectly willing to drive 1.5 hours to check this place out, and I was rewarded.

I set out on that fine Saturday morning in mid-March because I knew I would not have another such opportunity. (Sure enough, snow and freezing temps are on the way today.)

Under the odd conditions of this spring the landscape of the park appeared alien. The prairies were soggy and brown and speckled with thin stands of spruce that seemed black by contrast. The landscape looked quick-thawed. It looked uncertain and transitional and lacked the hints of green that might otherwise have lent it a vernal cast. The hike took me through mixed broadleaf and coniferous woods that were utterly silent and devoid of visible wildlife. (The animals were wise not to come out of their burrows just yet.)

But as I learned later, the thawed ground is now ideally receptive to absorbing the coming snowmelt and rain, which might have run off if the frost had persisted. One good soak and this spring will explode.

The only problem was the reservation system. In the un-staffed part of the year (which is most of the year), there is no way to know whether your backpack site is occupied until you get there. I hiked five miles, laden with gear, to find that the site I paid for was occupied.

Nice dudes though. They said they had fished all day but got nothing. Plus I had mentally prepared myself for having to find another place to camp. And with the lengthening days (the sun sets at 7:27!) I had plenty of daylight. I even had time to sit by Bear Creek and contemplate life, the universe and the granola I was eating. I watched huge chunks of ice dislodge themselves in the fast-moving water and in turn knock into other chunks of ice, and float away together.

I did see three immature ruffed grouse on my way out of the park. They froze, stupidly thinking that made them invisible. This behavior is in keeping with their programming (if I may call it that), which has made them a successful species. My own programming makes me find secluded spots in the woods where I might get hypothermia or choke to death on some granola.

A special place. Always a nice hike. The bald eagles appear to be nesting already. Coyote and turkey tracks are all around. You can even reconstruct events in the animals’ lives: I saw how two coyotes trotted alongside each other until they split up in the middle of an open fen.

While walking I thought about a little vignette I recorded from summer: I was at Nokomis on a Sunday morning and a kid (a little large for his stroller) said to his parents, "Ah, the sun feels so nice! I even don’t wanna go to church! I don’t wanna go to church!"

Good for you, kid! That’s where it all begins! Rejecting religious beliefs sometimes starts with love of sunshine, plants and animals.

My own awakening began when my innocent childlike mind compared, however unconsciously, the love of nature with the drab, rote rituals of church services and the absurd stories I heard in Sunday school. Frogs, stars, and birds were so much more compelling than fairy tales.

My parents were complicit when they let me read books of my choosing during the service. I almost always selected dinosaur books. And the dinosaurs on those pages appeared, even to a little kid, so much more real than the illustrations of Jesus’s magic tricks.

So, good luck to that little kid! Maybe if he is vocal and persistent enough, his family will stop going to church and develop a new Sunday morning ritual. Here are some ideas:

– a picnic
– a hike
– a day trip
– a visit to relatives
– a visit to a zoo or new museum
– a long walk
– a canoe or kayak trip
– a morning of reading and games by the fireplace

Anything but church !