Trip Report: Yellow River State Forest S urprise!

“It's fall, a magical time of year. You never know what to expect when out hiking.

Perhaps you remember a glorious fall day in Northeast Iowa, last Friday? I was able to get a 10-minute headstart on the weekend from work, although a couple quick errands served to negate any time gain.

I was debating an overnight backpacking trip to Yellow River State Forest in northeast Iowa. It’s a favorite hiking, camping and mountain biking location (if I was into trout fishing or hunting, you could add those to the recreation list).

The 25 miles of trail in the for-est have been recognized by a national publication. The April 1996 edition of “Outside” maga-zine picked the “best hikes” in each of the 50 states. Yellow River State Forest was chosen the best for Iowa.

Luckily, the basics were already in my backpack and car from a trip to Thousand Hills State Park in Kirksville, Missouri, the weekend before, to meet another Trail Talker. (Another story for another day... )

Since the forecast predicted rain and much colder weather during this weekend, I had to get on my computer before actually hitting the road… you know, checking out the weather radar.

With no rain in sight, I started tearing around, getting ready. I had no sandwich makings at home and didn’t want to take time to stop for them. I packed very nutri-tious – ha – fast snacks of saltine crackers, string cheese and granola bars. Hey, it was only going to be overnight trip, after all.

After a 35-minute drive, I got to the parking area for backpackers, filled out the registration card, and threw what I still needed from the car into the backpack. I made sure my flashlight was out, since so far I haven’t sprung for a headlamp.

It was pretty dark when I hit the trail, but then again, I’ve hiked it numerous times. It would be a mere mile, but a good elevation change. (Find a printable trail map here: http://www.state.ia.us/government/dnr/organiza/forest/images/alltrails.pdf)

About a quarter mile in, I hit the first junction. I stuck to the plan created in my head and turned left.

One summer a couple years ago, I’d turned right and hiked to the Camp Glen Wendel campsite. At that time, it was full of frogs (or is it toads?) chirping in a marshy area, complimented by reverberating fireworks, appar-ently from Harpers Ferry on the Mississippi. While it sounds sappy, I recall feelings of pride in being an American, camping out in our great outdoors, while re-membering and celebrating our nation’s independence.

All right, back to the dark trail. I turned left and began the climb from the valley, only using the flashlight when needed, in rocky or muddy areas. Finally, out of breath, but able to keep a steady –but slow – pace, I attained the top of the hill. I was paying close attention to any clearing to the right, which would mark the short trail to the campsite known as Camp John Schultz.

There it was! Off I headed. On my trek, I also had debated what to do if other people were at the campsite. Would I hike on another mile to Brown’s Hollow campsite if, say, there were a couple guys at this site? Would it depend on how rowdy any people might seem? I hoped for the best.

Quickly, I spotted two halogen headlamps looking toward the noise I was making as I got to the campsite. There was a campfire n the ring, plus a lot of gear around.

One friendly voice said, “Hi, I’m John. We’re just finishing supper.”
Another voice said, “Hi, I’m Karolee. We’re from Omaha.”

As I thought back to parking by a Nebraska-plated van in the lot, I said, “Hi, I’m Lisa from Decorah.”

The female literally screamed, “LISA!! There’s only one Lisa.”

Ever been on the spot? My mind was racing, not aided by the darkness, thinking, “These people seem to know me? Who are they?!?!”

Given 5 seconds, it all clicked. They were John and Karolee, whom I had met last summer when they visited Minnesota and Iowa. You know her as “Omahiker.”

Much laughter followed, at the unbelievable odds of having me walk into their camping area in the darkness. While my concern was rowdy guys in a camp, they were troubled that I might be an axe murderer… too funny!

Omahiker told me she’d thought of calling me about their trip, but they didn’t have a real firm itinerary set. Hey, I told her, I can understand that and have also held off on calling people on a trip for the same reason.

It ends up her birthday was the previous day. They were celebrat-ing with steaks cooked over the fire and a little wine. They gra-ciously offered me a small, spare ribeye, some potatoes and a little vino. Looking at the “meal” I’d brought along, I graciously ac-cepted. Delicious!

We had a great time talking. They were curious at how my three-pole tent set up and helped with that task. Let’s just say, it’s never been easy to set up… and darkness doesn’t help. I was sure to put the rain fly on it, “just in case” that rain predicted panned out.

I had brought a magazine along to read with the flashlight. But a good tiredness set in. The light was shut off and I quickly fell asleep.

In the morning, alas, there was an early shower. I burrowed inside my zero-degree mummy sleeping bag, staying quite comfortable, if not a bit on the warm side… waiting to see if the rain would stop. It did, but leaving the rainfly wet, and later to be strapped to the outside of my pack.

Omahiker had tasty banana bread along, sausages cooked over the campfire and even boxes of or-ange juice. (Am I lucking out here, or what?)

We took a few pictures, packed up, took a few more pictures, and the three of us headed out. They wanted to see the fire tower, which was not far from our loca-tion.

There we found a big group of what I’m guessing were college-aged kids. We laughed and said we were glad they had not wandered into the campsite last night.
Omahiker and -- shall we call him "Omahubby?" -- were off to try other things that day. They hoped to kayak in the Upper Iowa over the weekend, if possible. As Omahubby said about outdoor activities, “Cold, I can handle. Wet, I can handle. But maybe not both cold and wet.”

We hiked back down the forest service road to our vehicles. While there had been only three cars in it the previous night, it was now full.

I headed off to do a weekend full of work before leaving on a trip of my own. They left to have some more outdoor fun in our area. We laughed, said our good-byes for the time being, and wondered when we’d run into each other again.

It surely is a small world. And fall is a magical time.

I wrote this for a weekly column I do. Might as well make it a trip report with a few slight edits. :-)

Omahiker and lizs”

“Small world!!!

Your link doesn't work.”

“OK, when I set the link, I was in MY webshots account. I presume this makes a difference? Because I could access it. Help??”

“Well let me try a general album link ... only 3 total shots in my one album, folks, EASY viewing! lol

Omahiker and lizs”

“And here I'll try the specific shot (AND I'M LOGGED OUT FROM THE SITE, SO WOULD THINK THIS WOULD WORK......arrrrrrrrrgh)

Specifically Omahiker and lizs”

“Thats cool that you had a good time.

I bet the fall blaze of color looked good.

And you got to meet another TT'er.

8D”

“It works now, too funny.”

“How nice to find friends out there. That breakfast sounds so good and your camping spot was really beautiful.”

“Nice that you got to meet someone you know on the trail. Excellent trip report.”

“Thanks lizs for the great report. Having lizs the "axe murderer" walk into our campsite was a surprise & a treat. I am sure I scared her half to death by running towards her screaming like a complete psycho! For some reason, I knew who she was as soon as she said where she was from - we had met up with her a year ago on a car camping/paddling excursion through Minnesota and eastern Iowa. I guess if I had been wrong it would have been a good way to frighten off a stranger. There just aren't that many backpackers in Iowa, even though they have some really first-rate backpacking trails there. "Omahubby" was already a little on edge when she approached our campsite, since he had been hit with a falling pine cone earlier and kept seeing mysterious lights in the surrounding woods. I guess that my intake of wine at that point had been sufficient to make me feel hospitable to the most menacing intruder.

For the record, my husband and I completely abandon any semblance of a lightweight ethic for one-night backpacks where the hike in is short. In this case it was about a mile, although it was rather steep & also slippery in parts, due to some idiots who had taken their horses up a fragile dirt trail (GRRR!). We had our four man tent, charcoal, grill, steaks, wine (and Lexan wine glasses), canned veggies, beer, breakfast sausage, juice boxes, a tub of butter, and a whole loaf of banana bread. We have, in the past, even hiked back to the car and packed in our own firewood, if it is really a short trip.

Lizs was a great tour guide, she is very knowledgeable about the Yellow River State Forest. We had never been there before, and it is breathtaking this time of the year. I understand that there are some mentally unbalanced backpackers who are not impressed with Yellow River. Perhaps they need to come out of their tents from time to time, or look at the surrounding scenery instead of checking out the butts of their fellow hikers (if you understand this sentence, you know I'm talking to YOU)!

The trees in the forest are not indigenous - they were planted several years ago, and include several varieties of evergreens and hardwoods. We sort of wanted to stay in a motel on our second night but all of the local rooms were occupied by "leaf lookers" as they are called by the locals. So, we ended up staying in a campground (Little Paint Creek Campground) in YRSF again. Not that that was a bad thing, it is really beautiful there, and the campgrounds were not crowded since the weather was pretty cold.

On our third day we wanted to paddle the Upper Iowa River near Decorah, but the brisk winds and cool temps convinced us that it could be a very uncomfortable endeavor if we were to get wet, since we don't have any cold-water paddling apparel. We occupied ourselves with hiking near the town and lounging around camp. On our last morning in Decorah we spent about an hour hiking beside a crystal-clear trout stream that runs below the rocky bluffs outside of town. The cool breeze, the sound of the rushing water, and the sight of golden leaves against a clear blue sky made a perfect end to our trip. It also made me wish that I somehow had more time to spend outside, and that I lived near such a stunningly beautiful area.

I haven't been posting much at TT lately, and this may be my last post for a long time. I had a rough summer this year and didn't want to inflict my bad mood on too many of my fellow TT'ers. My older son got out of the Army after a brief trip to Afghanistan, moved in with me, and proceeded to make a science of doing nothing (fortunately he has a job now). My deranged (really) brother-in-law moved in for several weeks while he underwent radiation treatments at a nearby hospital. My younger son, who is mentally handicapped, is not usually a problem, but with all of the other slackers in the house, he seemed to be an additional source of irritation. Considering that I was the only female, with only one bathroom in the house, it got to be a bit much at times, except when my stepdaughter came to visit and I had some welcome female companionship. I don't want to end on such a pessimistic note, so I will just say that things are definitely improving now.

p.s. lizs, too bad about the Twins! I guess those game six tickets will be good firestarters on your next trip!”

“Hey Lizs call me!

8)”

“(my ass is grass) LOL”

“Mike it was great to meet you and Evergreen there. You guys are fun!!You don't know Omahiker... take the things she says with a grain of salt, banana bread and wine. :-)

Yeah, I laughed and whined that you didn't like Yellow River very well. (Ok, I took it personal, it's "my" park ya know... I guess I don't understand how it can be so much worse than a lot of close-by places where you live, where you hike on weekends.

I think you were looking for a Mississippi overlook and were disappointed, cuz you don't get one in that unit. I can understand that.

You also said something (maybe on here) I tried to interpret. something about no babes to look at, or some such thing. Did that mean girls? Trees? lol.. I know you like trees. Just wondering.

On Sunday you were being lazy and that's cool. I AM ONE OF THE PRIVILEGED FEW TO SEE THE MELLOW, "I DON'T WANNA HIKE" SIDE OF CRAZY MIKE! lol ... too silly

But, I am a dork and did take it a little personal when ya said you didn't like "my forest" very well. waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.... (was I PMSing?? lol)

I like you and Evergreen and it was fun to meet you guys. :-)”

“I think you need to call CM and take your reaming like a man.

Give her he!! mike...she deserves it probably...calling you a wuss and cry baby and a whiner...man, she even said that you hike like a girl...I'd give it to her if I was you.”

“Bad timing Mike. What, "No babes to look at"? When I hiked Yellow River State Forest last spring, two drop dead gorgeous coeds skimpily clad because of the the warm sunny day backpacked into the campsite where I was setting up my tarp. They had just come from Red River Gorge the month before, and liked the Yellow River State Forest. I must have looked too much like their fathers, and they moved on. My loss.

I never saw a horse in the twenty some miles of trail I hiked, even though I saw plenty of sign they had been there.”

“Thats cool Prosecutor good deal!

Ya Lizs you have to call me!

Send me a AIM at "iluvbackpacking"

8)”