There really is a trail, if you look closely…
The day you become old is the day you’re not looking for new experiences anymore.
-Billie Joe Armstrong
It’s been 4 days and I’m still a little sore. For the last 3 days, my legs have been really stiff too. On the last trek, near Mount Watatic, it was my low back that bothered me the most, but after I was finally able to sit down for a long period of time, that eased off. Not so my quads. They’re still achy. But they’ve eased off enough that I decided I should take Waldo out on a walk and try to work it out. Sore muscle pain is caused by the production of lactic acid, a byproduct of anaerobic exercise, and increasing the circulation by exercising the sore muscles can help wash that out. We won’t go our usual six miles, but we will go.
The temps are in the high 50s, the ground is dry and the breeze light. The sky cover is broken and the trees are slowly becoming fully leafed out, providing lots of shade. Just before we go out the door, I notice a short footpath on the AllTrails app, called the Grove, that winds around a piece of Fort Meadow Reservoir, around 2 miles long. I’ve been aware of it for some time as people have told me they’ve taken their dogs over there to run off leash (they aren’t supposed to, but they do it anyway). It’s been in the back of my mind to check it out one day and I decide that day is today.
I also see on the AllTrails map, there is a trail that goes from Waldo’s rail trail over to the Grove. It passes through a piece of forest that a company in Texas wanted to develop into mixed-use commercial dwellings. However, it wasn’t zoned for it and locals put up an opposition that caused the town council not to rezone the land. I have, on rare occasion, seen people walk out of those woods, on a somewhat apparent beaten path, to the rail trail. So I have also had an inkling to explore in there as well. There you go. It’s decided. We’re doing an off-tarmac twofer.
We park about a mile and a half from the beginning of the rail trail and head for the trees. It’s no great effort to find a “path” that heads toward the reservoir and we step into primordial nature. Waldo is at first a little confused, because we’re not going down the blacktop, but when he realizes where we’re going, he’s off to the front end of the leash, eagerly urging me on. He’s following the trail as well as I can – it’s not much more than a suggestion that other boots have trod on this ground before.
The reservoir is somewhere in front of us, but we can’t see it because of all the foliage. Walking downhill to a small creek, we lose sight of where the trail goes. The creek is small and I’m able to step across it in a single stride. Up the hill, on the other side, we find a trail again and follow it toward the reservoir. It soon widens out to what appears to be a rough jeep trail. There is no evidence that any kind of motorized vehicle has been down here in a long time, but it looks like a hardy SUV could use it. In less that a mile, we come to Boulton St and, on the other side, is a parking lot with a sign that says, “The Grove.”
From the parking lot, a broad, well-manicured, crushed stone path wanders along the water’s edge. Not far from the start of the trail, there is a spot where one can put small boats into the water. I have seen, from the rail trail, people out on the lake, fishing, but not many and not often, so the fishing can’t be that good. There’s no one out there today.
As Waldo and I wind our way down the trail, we’re passed by a woman we don’t know, who’s walking her dog, named Trevor, off-leash. There are signs posted that make it clear that letting dogs off-leash is illegal, but neither the woman, nor Trevor, seem to care. I keep Waldo on leash, not because I’m a purist, but because he has OCD and if something caught his attention, he’d all too likely be so fixated on it that he’d soon be gone and out of sight, ignoring any commands. His recall is good, as long as he’s of a mind to do it, but if he’s distracted, I can’t be sure he’d be obedient. Besides, the leash is long and it’s almost like he’s off-leash anyway – and we’re both used to it.
After a bit more than a mile, the trail loops around and gets us back to the parking lot. We head back to the rail trail, the way we came, and we’re soon back at the car. Total distance traveled is just under 3 miles. This exploration has defined a nice little bicycle-less, pristine (sort of) path that is close by where we live, easy to get to, and not crowded. It’s something I’m sure we’ll use in the future when we’re up for a short walk in Mother Nature.
I’m feeling good and I think I’m ready to go back to Mount Watatic and finish what we started there.
Tomorrow, maybe.
There’s even a beach!