The struggle for visibility is often fought on the smallest and largest of battlefields, like the single letter on a government ID or the struggle to be seen as an equal person in society. In this community project spotlight, Iden breaks down the profound significance of “Gender X” the exhibition and the political efforts looking to erase us.
This isn’t just about a passport; it’s about the right to exist outside a binary designed to control. Read on for a raw, defiant look at identity in the face of a changing political landscape and a call to all transgender gender nonconforming artists to use their voice or be silenced.
The Backstory:
Those of us in the transgender, non-binary, gender, and queer/fluid communities have always had to struggle to been seen. We have been made to fit ourselves into the boxes made available to us by society and the consequences we faced for defying the establishment often kept us in the shadows.
The fear, the persecutions, the lies have all been working toward the same goal: maintaining the binary construct of gender and, by extension, the patriarchy. The power structure of the patriarchy demands that male be superior to female. It is a system that cannot allow the existence of any gender indentity beyond oppressor and oppressed, Male or Female, M or F.
All government identification exists to serve the patriarchy. Your gender is assigned to you before you have taken two breaths in this world and the label M or F is grafted to you. It is literally your identity. The irony for gender queer individuals is that our indentification does not reflect our identity at all.
The Politics:
In 2022 the Biden administration made it possible for people to select a third option: X. This was a massive gesture. It not only acknowledged the existence of a gender experience beyond the binary, it acknowledged an individual’s right to establish their own identity outside of the system of control we were all taught was unassailable.
It is no surprise that the first move of the Trump administration was to rescind the executive order allowing for the selection of gender X. This is a fascist regime whose goals are all centered on the destruction of identity and the silencing of dissent. The removal of gender X from passports was just first step in a focused effort to erase the transgender community and return this country to the repressive control of the patriarchy.
The Exhibition:
This exhibition, Gender X, is a statement in direct defiance of the Trump monarchy. It is a refusal to allow our voices to be silenced or our existence to be erased. It is a testimony to our struggles, a celebration of our lives, and a call to action for our allies. If we do not stand together now and fight this government we will not be here.
Make no mistake, the goal of this self-proclaimed king and his administration is the destruction of the transgender community. If the stories shared here moved you, if the beauty of the artwork touched you, if you are a soul who believes in goodness you will stand with us now.
The Choice
Be vocal, or be silenced. Be visible, or be erased
Explorers who can mix things up, urban photographers, street art enthusiasts, skateboarders & inline skaters, or local historians who prefer their history with a side of adrenaline.
Legends & Lessons – Surviving Portal Park:
Stepping off the manicured paths of Highbanks Metro Park on April 15th 2026 and into the rugged descent of Portal Park felt like crossing a threshold into a different version of Ohio.
This place is known locally by two ominous names “The Gates of Hell” & “The Blood Bowl.” This site isn’t your typical metropolitan green area, city outdoor art exhibit, or urban exploration, or at least not one I’ve ever experienced. Portal Park is a massive, concrete-and-iron storm architectural marvel that has been reclaimed by street artists, urban legends, and the slow, steady pull of the Glen Echo ravine.
This is your Park….
I’ll be it is just a storm drain, it’s pretty cool to me. I guess a lot of other people explored them in adolescents, but not I.
– Axton N.O. Mitchell
This hiking journal looks at our recent struggle to enter Portal Park by use of the “Old-School” entry point. We straight up went down into the ravine. After we parked at Tim Horton’s and forgot the headlamps directly before we faced the dark reality of the tunnel’s interior. Look at the essential safety truths every urban explorer needs to hear before they head toward this metal intake.
“Take a picture I’m a goat” – Cyb
A Lesson in Terrain
If you park near the Tim Hortons and the “This is Your Park” sign, you are standing at the top of a steep, shale-heavy and trash littered incline. While the sign on the fence suggests a welcoming entry and the start of what looks like a path there backs it up, the reality is a scramble between the slope and the debris.
Entering here means between the two fences after the signs means climbing down a literal rock wall while scrambling out and around the concrete slope below it. In terms of ease this was an epic fail, but a win for those seeking a direct line to the massive metal structure guarding the tunnel mouth, without walking through the tunnel, if you wish to avoid it.
The grate view.
Make Your Own Rules But Here are Some You May Reconsider:
To keep the experience an adventure rather than an accident, specific precautions should be non-negotiable:
Clear the Path: If you are hiking with a dog, expect to spend time in front of them bent in half picking up glass. The ravine is a magnet for litter and urban debris. Checking for saw paw clearing and physically maintaining a clear path is the only way to ensure your companion leaves without injury.
The Neater Dual Entrance & Exit: If you enter like us down the ravine once you’ve navigated the tunnel, look for the more established, graded path on the opposite side. It’s the route most people use for entry and exit, and it’s significantly safer for those carrying gear or lacking mountain-goat coordination. It is located by parking at Lucky’s Market on High street I have links to the direct location above, and two more to help you visually at the end of the journal.
Check us out.
Portal Park Art Graffiti and the Grate
The tunnel functions as a subterranean gallery, shifting from pop-culture icons like Pokémon to heavy political statements as well as being a drainage tunnel (not sewer).
You will find before entry to the tunnel (on the route of ease) or after you finish navigating the main tunnel to the creek side via dropping into the ravine, a secondary tunnel sits behind a concrete wall.
While the allure of the secondary tunnel was tempting, the struggle getting down and the unknown risk to Luna from debris outweighed that easily; We chose to stay in the creek and on the trail which offered good views without the unnecessary risk.
The entrance to Hell, Ohio?
The “Fuck ICE” graffiti etched in front of the main tunnel grate at the bottom of the ravine serves as a welcoming first landmark. I knew I was in a like-minded space, after I read the first two words. Let this be your reminder that hidden urban spaces often act as the city’s diary for dissent and frustration.
This isn’t just a place for “vandalism,” if that’s how you view street art aka graffiti. Portal Park so I have heard is also a hub for alt-communities. It’s spot for cosplayphotography, video shoots, and queer/punk gatherings.
There’s a silent rule in most Urban Spaces: respect the personal space of others.
The Lore of the Blood Bowl
The myths and whispers of local lore surrounding Portal Park is rooted in its heavy history and the myths that have grown from that in the darkness of the tunnels.
The other side of the tunnel.
The Skateboarder’s Legend: The nickname “Blood Bowl” originates from stories in the 1980’s of skaters attempting to ride those steep, curved concrete walls of the drainage system. The lore suggests that those who underestimated the bowl met with bloody end-results.
The 350-Million-Year-Old Walls: The ravine walls are made of Devonian shale. Their strange, alien appearance fueled rumors in the 1970’s that occult gatherings happened here. Rumors of “bleeding rocks,” circulated too though they are actually a fascinating geological byproduct of ancient sea floors.
Survival Logistics – Remaining Safe:
Cyble from above.
There is a level of sketchiness sometimes present here that does no one justice to be unaware of or completely overlooked. This is a secluded urban drain tunnel below a ravine, and it requires a specific mindset to navigate responsibly.
Stacked rocks near the actual entrance & exit
Light is Life: Phone flashlights are notoriously unreliable in environments with high-humidity. A dedicated headlamp or flashlight is essential. If your light fails in the middle of that tunnel, you could find yourself in total or near total darkness.
Groups as a Defense: Do not explore this area alone. While it is a public pocket park, the isolation makes it a high-traffic area for those living off the grid. Go in a group, mind your respect & personal space while your visit. Do so only during daylight hours, and let someone outside your group know your plans and when you should be expected to return.
The Bag Strategy: We expected a quick walk in and out, so we left our bags in our cars. We were lucky we left them because we chose to scramble down the gorge. However bringing a pack allows for snacks, hydration, safety items, and more to be brought in and back out typically fairly easy, on normal trips.
Water and Weather: The tunnel floor isn’t just concrete; it’s a stream. After an Ohio rain, the water can get deep enough to soak your shoes, hide debris, or even flood. If you’re heading in, check the weather first.
Portal Park – High Street, Columbus, Ohio:
The Blood-Bowl is a place of deep contrast, where you can watch fish swim at the mouth of a graffiti-scarred tunnel next to a rock cliff. If you continue on to explore and walk a short distance more you locate modern political manifestos that remind you how the diary of a city is written.
Second tunnel we saw but didn’t enter.
Whether you’re climbing down the rocky ravine between two fences or walking on the easier path through the woods, the site demands your full attention.
It’s a honest, unfiltered look at the intersection of Columbus’s infrastructure, the people that walked before, and the natural world, proving that sometimes the hard way provides the most honest perspective.
Plan Your Trip:
Park at Lucky’s Market – This site also mentions alt-community creative collaborations happen here.
Watch This Youtube video that’s less than 12 minutes long but will spare you the climb down the gorge.
Rockhounds, amateur paleontologists, spiritual practitioners seeking “witches stones,” and local Ohio hikers.
Trail sign.
Exploring the Ancient Depths of Highbanks Metro Park:
Have you ever wondered what lies beneath the surface of the Olentangy River’s murky water? While most hikers and other visitors stick to the overlooks, the true history of Highbanks Metro Park is found down in the mud and shale of the riverbed.
April 15th on an 80-degree morning, I set out to explore the Sycamore Loop at Highbanks Metro Park, in Columbus, Ohio with Cyble and Luna. We aimed to see if the rumors of hag stones and prehistoric remains being abundant here held any truth.
An oddly heart shaped patch of missing bark.
In this hiking journal, we’re going to dive deep into the specific fossils you can find at Highbanks Metro Park. Crinoid death plates and horn coral, which are quite commonly found here.
We also look at the folklore behind hag stones and the 350-million-year-old geology that makes this park a world-class destination for collectors.
The Olentangy River:
The Olentangy River in Columbus, Ohio was practically begging to be waded in. While we were trekking the Sycamore Loop, which we completed in roughly 1.2-miles. The trail is mostly flat and easy; however, while it is not ADA accessible, it does offer a manageable area for those avoiding steeper hikes.
The sycamore loop also winds down near the water’s edge, which offers the perfect opportunity for river wading as well as geological discovery.
When you step into the mid-shin to knee deep waters, you aren’t cooling off just anywhere… You are actually stepping on a bed of Devonian era history that dates back over 350 million years.
The Mystery of the Hag Stone – Nature
The infamous hag stone.
Among the river glass and smoothed pebbles, one of the most prized things to find is often the hag stone (also known as a holey stone or “witches stone”).
How Hag Stones Form:
These stones are not bored by animals or humans.
They are created through perforation by erosion. Over centuries, high-velocity water currents tumble smaller, harder pebbles or abrasive sand against a softer spot in a rock. This constant friction drills a clean hole entirely through the stone.
At Highbanks, the churning Olentangy River provides the perfect “lathe” for this process.
Half baked hag stone, just as epic of a find if you ask me.
Cultural and Spiritual Significance:
In spiritual beliefs, hag stones have been steeped in protection magic for millennia:
Warding: Historically hung on doors or beds to prevent “nightmares” or “hags” from sitting on one’s chest.
The Second Sight: Tradition suggests that peering through the hole allows the viewer to see into the faerie realm or spot invisible spirits.
Protection: Used by sailors and farmers to protect ships and livestock from hexes.
Horned coral anyone?
Identifying Fossils: Crinoids and Horn Corals:
The shale and limestone banks of Highbanks are famous for their fossils. A fossil death plate, is a dense slab of Crinoid stems and other pieces on a shared matrix. Crinoids, though they look like plants, and often referred to as sea lilies, were actually echinoderms, animals related to starfish.
You may also encounter Horn Coral fossils (Rugosa). These solitary corals grew in a distinct cone shape resembling a bull’s horn. They were predators that lived on the seafloor, using tentacles to catch passing food before going extinct during the Great Dying (Permian-Triassic extinction event).
Cyble & I making up 2/3 of the hiking crew today, just missing Luna in the image.
The Geology of the Sycamore Loop:
The “High Banks” of this metro park are composed of Ohio Shale, but the riverbed is often littered with Dolostone (Dolomite rock).
Unlike standard limestone, Dolostone contains magnesium, which makes it slightly harder and more resistant to erosion, often resulting in the sturdy heart shaped rocks and fossils found during our trip.
Glacial Influence: Much of the debris in the river was deposited by the Wisconsin Glacier roughly 14,000 years ago.
The Concretions: While many are roughly the size of a bowling ball, others found in the ravines and along the Olentangy River are massive, often reaching 1 meter or more in diameter. Some local accounts note they can range up to 20+ feet, although those are exceptionally large… Though we didn’t see these today, they give us plenty more reasons to return.
I really like this picture Cyb took of me, though it was a little nerve wracking getting positioned on there log.
The End to this Park the Start to Our Day:
A 1.2-mile hike at Highbanks Metro Park is a condensed masterclass in Ohio’s prehistoric past. Whether you are searching for the protective energy of a hag stone or the calcified remains of an ancient coral reef, the Sycamore Loop provides a tactile connection to the earth’s timeline.
Next time you wade into the river on an 80-degree sunny day, remember that the stones beneath your feet have been waiting millions of years to be found.
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.
Best for:
Transgender & non-binary individuals, LGBTQ+ individuals & allies, community builders, and, anyone cis wishing for deeper understanding of transgender experiences, advocates for inclusive social environments.
The Weight of the First Impression:
Navigating the world as a trans masc person, speaking for myself and my experiences alone, can often involve a constant, internal “vibe check” of our surroundings.
I have written quite a few pieces of poetry that directly reflect my experiences when some cis people find out I am trans masc, Fight Me, for instance.
We look for signals:
a rainbow sticker
specific pin
or maybe even certain style to determine if a space is person is safe.
This post explores a specific, high-stakes moment of trans masc visibility in a public space. In this small social interactions reflection a simple compliment paid to a barista for an apron pin turned into a profound shared instance of mutual recognition.
Let’s dive into the nuances of passing, the defensiveness born from political tension, and the beautiful, if brief, connections that happen when we stop being strangers.
A Flash of Color in the Drive-Thru:
Coffee shops whether a small businesses or a corporation have long served as unofficial hubs for counter-cultures, mutual aid, and community.
On this particular day, the atmosphere was already charged with the heavy air of the upcoming election cycle. The third Trump campaign made every interaction easily feel more loaded than usual.
I was sitting in the backseat of a friend’s car when we pulled up to the window, and I immediately noticed the barista.
This individual was masculine-presenting with vibrant, colored hair, tattoos, and facial piercings. Almost as if I held a mirror to the parts of me I got to choose. The barista topped off the work uniform bore with tons of cool ass pins on the apron, that was typically plain.
As someone who also uses pins to spice up a lot of things… ukulele cases, book bags, hats, and whatever else, I felt that immediate pull of familiarity.
The Icebreaker- Epic Fail-
From Suspicion to Solidarity:
Complimenting a specific piece of flair is the universal language of appreciation in the community. However, nuance, place, and familiarity may matter to your specific social situation as I learned pretty quickly.
When I told the barista, “I like your pins,” the response back was a nonchalant “Which one?” When I fumbled and spat “the trans one” the energy shifted. I had not planned on being asked that, and I honestly just liked most of them.
Still though, you could quite literally feel the tension lay in on the group of us as I finished my statement. This individual turned looked at me, head held at an askew angle and didn’t miss a beat.
The barista once more took a look at me m. Despite my at the time green hair, tattoos and such I still had full beard, semi-athletic build, deep-voice, and traditionally masculine appearance and asked, straight faced “Why?”
In a political climate where transgender visibility in public spaces can sometimes attract bad-faith trolling, his defensiveness was understandable.
He likely expected a joke or a confrontation. However, the tension evaporated the moment I simply said, “I’m trans.”
The transformation in his expression was immediate; the “customer service mask” and the defensive wall dropped simultaneously to reveal a moment of pure, priceless shock, understanding, and joy.
The shift from being perceived as a potential threat to being recognized as a brother is one of the most powerful experiences in the transmasculine community.
The Fleeting Nature of Community Connections:
Unfortunately, the efficiency of a good drive-thru is the enemy of blossoming a further connection of any kind. The drinks arrived, we paid, and the opportunity to exchange contact info or build any form of connection to share resources or anything vanished.
This encounter serves as a reminder of how vital these split-second interactions can be. Sadly, I haven’t seen him working since, but the moment of trans masc visibility validated both of us in a time of high political anxiety.
Why These Interactions Matter:
Combats Isolation: Seeing someone like yourself in the wild reinforces that you aren’t alone.
Safety Reinforcement: It transforms a standard business transaction into a confirmed safe space.
The Lasting Impact of “Being Seen”:
While the interaction was short, its impact lingered long after the coffee was gone. It highlights the importance of reclaiming our narratives and standing our ground, even when we expect the worst from a situation.
By being open about our identities when we are safely able to do so , we create ripples of safety for others who might be navigating the same fears. Though I still kick myself for not thinking to give the barista my contact information before we left, the memory remains a testament to the resilience and hidden threads of connection within the LGBTQ+ community.
Welcome fellow hikers and nature walk lovers alike, to a curated list of my favorite outdoor spaces. This is your access to my personal nature highlights reel.
Whether you are a seasoned hiker or someone aspiring to get more into it, there’s space for you.
Below you will see growing and changing sections of photos by theme. Photos act as clickable links to their respective post.
What are you waiting for? Go see what one you want to check out first…
The trails waiting for you.
Waterfalls:
Views:
Preserves:
Hidden Gems:
Outdoor Art:
Vibes:
Bucket List:
The highlight reel I curated for you isn’t quite finished, yet…
Below you will find pieces of my bucket list. These are the spots I plan to see soon all the way to those that I dream to see eventually. From the ones right in my backyard to the ones that feel like they exist light-years away. Welcome to your view of some of my goals for nature exploration.
Whether I make it to these places next week, years from now, or in another life, they’re worth sharing about. Maybe you’ll find something you wish to see too, and maybe you’ll even beat me to it.
Ohio explorers navigating seasonal trail shifts, fans of historic covered bridges, dog owners needing a tick-season reality check, waterfall chasers seeking Fairfield County hidden gems, industrial history buffs, and nature advocates tired of trail litter.
April in Ohio:
The goal was the Gorge Park Trail at Rock Hill, but the reality was a closed gate and a “Construction” notice.
That’s the nature of hiking, you can plan for whatever you want but, don’t you forget nature has its own mind. The trail tells you what to do. Since we were already in the area with Luna and the gear was ready, we weren’t about to just head back to Newark empty-handed.
I pulled up the map and pivoted to the Rock Mill Lake Wildlife Area. It’s the kind of spot most people overlook in favor of the historic mill nearby, but I wanted to see if the 1.4-mile loop actually offered a legitimate hike or just a muddy walk through a field.
Change of Plans:
Kylie, Luna, and I set out on April 10th with high hopes of hitting the gorge trail at Stebelton Park at Rock Mill.
At roughly noon, the Ohio spring heat was already showing its teeth. Though in all honesty it wasn’t exactly a heatwave yet, it was warm enough that the air felt thick.
Of course it left Kylie and me sticky and sweaty just a few minutes into our adventure. Kylie, my dog Luna, and I were ready for the mill and waterfall up close, but we were met with a bit of a scheduling reality check.
I had it in my head that the gorge trail opened on March 24th. However, after reverifying the message I received from Fairfield County Parks reaching out to me on Facebook a few weeks back, I realized I’d misread the date.
The trail that leads down to the waterfall at the mill doesn’t open until April 24th. With the main attraction gated off, we pivoted to the Rock Mill Lake trail just down the road to get our weekly fix of nature.
Navigating the Field & Rock Mill Lake:
The trail itself is a 1.4-mile out-and-back that we clocked in at about 35 minutes. I guess despite stopping, taking in views, and photography we were still able to keep pace at a steady clip.
From the first few steps out of the parking lot and onto the path the lightly wooded area opens up to a small lake.
I would honestly refer to it as a large pond if I didn’t know better but, it is called Rock Mill Lake. The trail is rather damp and muddy despite the lack of rain.
Though it does hug and cross the lake. On the far side the lake shore opens up to a grassy incline.
Upon cresting the grassy knoll you will find a unique stretch of land where it feels less as if you’re in a forest. For a short 360 degree view you’ll begin to think you’re traversing through a working farm and its neighboring tree lines.
After walking a short ways through the fields of rolling Ohio foothills, treetops in the distance, and rustic farm structures, you’ll be glad to enter the tree-line on the last edge of the lake.
Here on the very far side of Rock Mill Lake is a massive rock perched right on the shoreline perfectly. Already adorned with a classic rope swing hanging out of a tree and over the water.
It’s the kind of spot that looks like a summer dream from a distant, nostalgic memory. Which begs us to return equipped with lake day items. Though, our current trip’s reality was a bit harder to swallow. The area was unfortunately covered in trash and broken glass, which is a massive ew. Especially for individuals like me hiking with a dog or who is an avid nature and conservation advocate.
The Legacy of Rock Mill and the Hocking River:
Even when the trails are closed, the mill itself is an imposing piece of history. The current structure was built in 1824. Though, the original site dates back to 1799.
Stebelton operated as a gristmill for nearly a century before closing its commercial doors in 1905. The geography here is what made it a prime location for early industry; the mill sits 90 feet above the gorge where the Hocking River plunges over a 14-foot waterfall.
Why the Rock Mill Gorge Trail has Been Closed:
The gorge trail remains closed until late April, due to the trails unique geology. The Hocking River has carved and eroded through soft Black Hand Sandstone here for years.
In the off season months, the combination of melt and heavy precipitation makes these slopes incredibly unstable. Opening the trail too early would lead to massive soil erosion, and potentially dangerous conditions for hikers navigating the steep descent to the water. Seasonal closures act as protection for the site and the trail- comers alike.
Mill Hours: Starting in May, the mill is open for tours on Wednesdays and Saturdays from 11:00 AM to 2:00 PM, and Sundays from 1:00 PM to 4:00 PM. The mill and gorge close yearly in November.
The Iconic Queen Post at Rock Mill:
The iconic covered bridge positioned directly alongside the gristmill is the Queen Post. This iconic Fairfield County landmark dates back to 1901.
A humble 37-foot span that was constructed by Jacob “Bluejeans” Brandt. This is one of the last remaining examples of a mill and covered bridge combination in the entire country. It features a Queen Post truss design, which is a classic wooden support system that uses two vertical posts to distribute the weight across the span.
Though the covered bridge looks like it has been there forever, it was actually built to replace an earlier structure that couldn’t withstand the Hocking River’s temperamental flooding.
This covered bridge was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1976 and underwent a major restoration in 2008 to ensure it stays standing 35 feet above the gorge. While it no longer carries vehicular traffic, it serves as the perfect vantage point for photographers looking to capture the mill and the falls in a single frame.
Looking for More Covered Bridges?
If you’re a fan of the covered bridge at Rock Mill Park, you should know Fairfield County is the holy grail for them.
Did you know that Fairfield County actually has more original covered bridges than any other county in Ohio?
Just a short drive away, you can find the Johnston Covered Bridge in Two Glaciers Park, which was built in 1887. This is a massive covered bridge with a 98-foot span. Surprisingly it still rests on its original abutments over Clear Creek. It’s unique because of its double canopies. These are like little wooden awnings over the windows that let you see the intricate Howe truss system from the outside.
Another nearby gem is the Hanaway Covered Bridge, which is famous for its lopsided look. It was built on a curve in 1881 and only has a canopy on one side. Drivers in the 1930s could actually see if someone was coming from the other direction before pulling in due to this.
If you’re looking for something closer to the city, the McCleery Covered Bridge now sits along the Lancaster bike path. It was actually the first bridge built by Jacob Brandt. Yes, the same “Bluejeans” Brandt who built the one at Rock Mill. However, this bridge had to be shortened significantly over the years due to dry rot.
These spots are perfect for quick stops if you’re trying to make a full day out of a trail of covered bridges.
The Tick Invasion: A Critical Safety Warning-
If the trash wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the ticks were out in full force. The slightly high grass in the farm fields was littered with ticks.
At one point during the hike, I had to stop and pull a literal handful of them off Luna, in one swoop… seriously consider the amount of ticks that is.
With the warmer, humid weather, they are waking up hungry, and this trail like many others I’m sure, is currently a prime hunting ground.
Identifying the Risks to Humans and Pups:
Tick-borne illnesses like Lyme Disease or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever are no joke. In humans, early onset symptoms usually appear within 3 to 30 days and include a “bullseye” rash (approximately 70% of time), fever, and muscle aches.
If left untreated, prolonged symptoms can escalate to severe joint pain, heart palpitations, and neurological issues like Bell’s palsy.
For dogs like Luna, the signs are a bit different. You might notice “shifting leg lameness,” where they limp on one leg one day and a different one the next.
Other early signs include a loss of appetite and a sudden fever. Long-term, untreated tick bites in dogs can lead to chronic kidney issues and painful, swollen joints. If your dog seems lethargic or stiff weeks after a hike, it’s time for a vet visit.
Natural Defenses and Prevention:
While chemical repellents are commonly used, like DEET. There are natural ways to help keep these hitchhikers away.
Ticks are highly sensitive to scent, and certain essential oils can act as powerful deterrents.
Effective Repellents:
Lemon Eucalyptus oil is the heavy hitter for humans
Clove and Thyme Oils: Studies suggest that clove bud oil and thyme oil are highly effective deterrents. A combination of citronella and thyme has specifically been found to be one of the most effective natural mixtures against ticks.
Rose Geranium oil is a popular natural choice for use on dogs just a drop on the collar (avoid direct skin contact) can help.
Peppermint and Cedarwood oils are also known to create a scent barrier that ticks find repulsive.
Lavender Oil: Often cited as being as effective as DEET in some studies, lavender not only repels adult ticks but may also prevent their eggs from hatching.
Neem Oil: A natural insecticide and repellent that is generally safe for pets and humans when diluted.
Pet Safety: PLEASE use extreme caution with pets. Some oils, like eucalyptus and tea tree, can be toxic to cats and dogs if used incorrectly. Always consult a veterinarian first.
Yard Management Strategies:
Gravel or Wood Chip Barriers: A 3-foot wide barrier of gravel or wood chips between wooded areas and your lawn can prevent ticks from migrating into your yard.
Short Grass: Ticks thrive in tall grass; keeping your lawn mowed regularly reduces their habitat.
Diatomaceous Earth: This fossilized algae powder can be sprinkled in the garden to dehydrate and kill ticks. Ticks have a waxy outer coating on their exoskeletons that helps them retain moisture. The microscopic particles of DE are extremely sharp and highly absorbent.
Natural Landscaping Options:
If you want to keep your yard less hospitable to ticks, you can plant these naturally tick repelling species:
Chrysanthemums: These flowers contain pyrethrin, a natural neurotoxin that kills and repels ticks.
Marigolds: They produce a strong scent and contain pyrethrum, a compound used in many commercial repellents.
Rosemary and Sage: Both herbs have strong aromatic oils that ticks avoid.
Garlic: Planting garlic around borders can create a sulfurous barrier ticks tend to avoid.
Always do a thorough tail-to-nose check the second you get back to the trailhead. It only takes a few seconds for one to latch on, but a proactive check can save you and your pets weeks of trouble.
Extra Pointers when it Comes to Ticks:
Prompt Removal is Critical: Removing a tick within the first 24 hours drastically reduces the risk of most bacterial infections, especially Lyme disease.
Partially Fed Ticks: If a tick was previously attached to another host and then reattaches to you, it can transmit diseases much faster. Since now the pathogens are already active in its saliva.
Physical Indicators: An “engorged” or puffy-looking tick has likely been attached for at least 36 hours, indicating a higher risk of infection.
The Final Verdict:
What isn’t mentioned when you’re looking at the trail map is the specific kind of silence you get out here.
Unlike the crowded boardwalks of Hocking Hills, Rock Mill Lake is untouched. It’s a transition space, caught between a managed wildlife area and a working farm.
A brisk 35-minute loop that served as a reminder: the “backup” plan usually ends up being the most honest experience of the day.
It’s not a destination hike, but if you’re already hitting the covered bridges in Fairfield County, it’s a solid way to burn an extra half-hour in nature.
Whatever you do just don’t skip the tick check before you climb back in the car.
Protective Empaths, those reclaiming boundaries or learning how to set them, best for deep-thinkers, slow scrollers, lovers of experimental poetry and visceral callouts.
THE PERSPECTIVE SHIFT:
There is a heavy, quiet exhaustion that comes with seeing every side of a story.
We are often told that empathy is a superpower, but we rarely talk about how it can feel like a haunting… draining even.
Imagine for a moment you possess the inability to not play devil’s advocate even when someone is actively setting out to dismantle you.
This is about that specific moment of clarity when you stop trying to wash the page clean and decide, finally, to let the ink set and stain.
POET’S NOTE – THE ORIGIN STORY:
This piece was forged from a chain of moments.
It started with a friend’s Facebook post
“As soon as I see someone's true colors I am no longer going to erase the canvas so they can do it again…. I'm gonna let it stain,…. So I'll remember…”
The post caught my interest while I was out hiking. The imagery followed me through the trails, and by the time I was driving home, it had fermented into something visceral.
LI recorded the first draft via voice-to-text while behind the wheel.
Unfiltered. Containing no punctuation.
Unfiltered.
Later, I moved into the visual editing phase, playing with the falling letters, word combination movements, and spacing to mimic the physical weight of the thoughts.
You’ll notice letters dropping vertically and words drifting; this is a visual dissection of how it feels to process these heavy realizations.
The ending shared “F” at the end between the words “for” and “forgiveness” represents that mental pivot point where an empath’s brain naturally tries to bridge the gap.
Ultimately, and much more importantly art is up to subjective interpretation.
Whatever these words trigger for you is valid, and I would love to hear what you saw in the stains or even in the forgiveness.
Do you disagree with the notion that forgiveness can be just as useful for self sabotage as many other vices.
The Poem
Forgiveness and the Stain;
I was cursed with an empathetic soul…
A
bles
s
i
n
g
in
disguise.
Plagued with the ability to,
see
more than one side
t
o any
story.
Even those
D
I
R
E
C
T
L
Y
opposing
the
N
A
R
R
A
T
I
V
E in my O
W
N.
Lord knows how many
people,
set out to destroy me.
Yet,
I allowed them to
walk
away…
unscathed.
Thinking
they
got one over on me.
Pulled the
wool E
over my
e
S.
Truth be told,
I simply saw how life could
bring
humankind outside our
humanity.
From now on when spilled ink
from others mars my
P
A
P
E
R,
I have to let it
stain
to
remember…
Or the empath in me will
always
push for
o
r
givness.
THE ARCHIVE:
To remember the stain is not to hold onto bitterness; it is to honor the truth of what happened.
When we refuse to scrub the paper, we acknowledge that our experiences… Yes, even the jagged, unfair ones, are part of the medium we work with.
It is a transition from being a victim of someone else’s mess to being the conscious archivist of your own life.
So What did the stain and forgiveness look like in your world?
Is it a lesson, a boundary, or a badge of honor?
I’d love to hear anything you’d like to share about your own interpretation of my lines.
music enthusiasts, mental health advocates, lyrical analysis lovers, indie music explorers, and anyone who has ever argued with their own reflection.
Hi Ren – The Song:
I was driving home from Dundee Falls. I had just finished both of the upper and the lower falls. I was in a great mood, though my legs were feeling it. My liked songs playlist on Spotify was on shuffle, as it always is. I should mention I have over 5,000 songs in my liked library. I was a Pandora loyalist for years. I was stubborn about it even, but Spotify won me over eventually.
Anyway, the hike was great as usual I’m not hard to please. The drive home was better than it typically is, as easy as I am to please I’m also never quite ready to go home.
I get to about the village or town of Pearl, Ohio and, that’s when “Hi Ren” came on. I heard the first few scores and was lit. I hadn’t heard it in a while. Sometimes the right song at the right moment doesn’t just stop you, it moves you you.
Ren – The Artist Who Refuses to Be Forced into a Single Genre:
Ren is an artists who doesn’t fit neatly into a box. His music and lyrics are known for blending folk, spoken word, rock, rap, reggae, and alternative hip hop. While also combining them in a fresh and unfiltered style unique to Ren alone.
Ren belongs in the same list as NF, Hobo Johnson, Bazzi, and other artists who I allow to influence the way I move words.
Artists who understand that music can be a helpful tool to let it all out , not just a beautiful distraction.
Though, “Hi Ren” is something else entirely.
It’s not simply a song, it’s an internal fight made external. It is a confrontation with oneself. A seven-and-a-half-minute theatrical piece where Ren essentially debates his own demons in real time.
The production and tone shifts. His voice goes from fragile to ferocious and back again. By the end, you’re not sure whether he won, declared a truce, lost, or forfeited. That ambiguity is the thing I live for, and entire point.
The Song That Argues Back:
What makes “Hi Ren” extraordinary is the structure. Ren doesn’t just sing about mental illness. He gives it a voice. A literal counter-voice in the track that mocks him, challenges him, and tries to convince him that every achievement is hollow and every setback is final.
It covers:
Mental health struggles – The cyclical nature of depression and anxiety, the way your own mind turns on you
Physical health struggles – Ren has been open about his battles with chronic illness, and the song carries that weight
Imposter syndrome – That persistent whisper that you haven’t earned your place, that you’re faking it, that you’ll be exposed
Self-doubt as a constant companion – Not something you overcome once, but something you learn to coexist with
The most striking moment comes when Ren shifts from defending himself to offending the voice back.
He doesn’t just endure the internal assault, he turns around and lands his own blows. It’s not toxic positivity.
It’s not “it gets better” platitudes.
It’s a declaration that he’ll keep creating, keep fighting, keep showing up, even if the voice never fully leaves.
How “Hi Ren” Fits Alongside my Other Lyrical Influences:
I don’t throw around the term “lyrical influence” lightly. There are artists who make great songs, and then there are artists who make you rethink what a song can do. Ren falls into the second category.
Here’s a quick list of artists who occupy that same space for me:
NF – Master of turning internal warfare into cinematic, stadium-ready confessionals
Hobo Johnson – Lyrical deconstructionism that feels like slam poetry raised on punk ethos
Bazzi – Stripped-down vulnerability that doesn’t sacrifice melody for honesty
Ren fits alongside them not because he sounds similar, but because he shares the same core approach: use every tool available, lyrics, delivery, production, silence… to communicate something real about the human condition.
“Hi Ren” in particular stands out because it refuses catharsis.
There’s no neat resolution.
The voice doesn’t disappear.
Ren simply decides he’s going to keep living and creating in spite of it.
That’s a far more honest ending than most songs dare to offer.
Why This Song Hit Different on the Drive Home:
There’s something about being alone in a car after a long hike. Your body is tired. Your mind is quiet. And then a song comes on that you haven’t heard in months, and it lands differently because you are in a different place than you were the last time you heard it.
Dundee Falls was beautiful.
Both of them.
The kind of place where you forget to check your phone because you’re too busy watching water do what water has done for thousands of years.
But the drive home is where the reflection happens. And “Hi Ren” turned that reflection into something sharper.
It reminded me why I gravitate toward artists who aren’t afraid to be messy.
Who don’t polish their struggles into something radio-friendly. Who understand that sometimes the most important thing a song can do is sit with you in the hard parts instead of rushing you to the resolution.
The Power of Unresolved Stories:
“Hi Ren” isn’t a song that ties itself in a bow.
It doesn’t offer closure.
What it offers is something rarer: permission to still be in the middle of your story.
Permission to have days where the voice in your head is loud.
Permission to keep going even when you don’t have a tidy answer for why.
Ren is one of my lyrical influences for exactly that reason. Alongside NF, Hobo Johnson, and Bazzi, he represents a kind of honesty that doesn’t perform recovery. It performs persistence. And sometimes that’s the more important thing to hear.
If you haven’t listened to “Hi Ren” yet, don’t just put it on in the background. Sit with it. Let it argue with itself. And when it’s over, pay attention to what the silence feels like afterward.
Blue-collar workers & laborers who feel the grind, healthcare workers and nursing staff, critics of late-stage capitalism, readers of industrial horror and dystopian fiction, those who feel like a “cog in the machine,” and anyone grappling with the fear of aging and obsolescence in a productivity-obsessed world.
The Scars of Fitting In:
This piece is the fourth of the ten piece collection of short stories, that I am currently working on. I will continue to share these periodically across my platforms, including WordPress, Substack, Wattpad, and other publishing spaces.
Each story in this series stands alone, but together they form a broader examination of the systems that shape us.
These works are released intentionally over time, allowing space for reflection rather than consumption.
This series blends literary fiction with social commentary and psychologically thrilling concepts. Here I spend time focusing on lived experience, psychological impact, and the long shadow of making decisions for others . New entries will be published as they are completed.
Blurb:
The story follows a factory worker who spends his time at work bottling consumer goods and monitoring “underproductive individuals” also known as humans who have replaced animals in the testing wings.
At one point he watches a man react to some of the very chemicals he caps on the line. At last the narrator realizes he isn’t just an observer. He is a battery running out of charge, and the factory is simply waiting for his shelf life to expire.
The Shelf Life of Productive Individuals;
The commute to the factory is always in a grayscale hue, this is a fact that never fails to come true. The forty-minute stretch where my mind attempts to build a wall between the two separate versions of me. One version consists of a man who eats toast in a dim kitchen decorated in hues of yellow and blue; the other version signs for shipments of humans to run production safety test on using their hair and skin.
Each and every morning, the parking lot at the testing facility feels like a graveyard for the living. It shivers through my bones as I approach the cemetery for the breathing, working bodies.
Our shift change is something similar to a silent ritual. You walk past the outgoing crew, and there is a shared, hollow look in all of our eyes. This look is a mutual agreement not to acknowledge the screaming contradiction of our “Humane First” posters.
The company rebranded the previous animal testing wing as the Ethical Non-Animal-Testing Zone. This rebrand brought the posters of playful pups, kittens doing cute things, rabbits, monkeys you name it all showing the bright futures an animal now can have without fear of testing.
They stripped the cages out three years ago when the laws changed.
Gone were the self watering bottles and the feeders on timers. Now, there are cots as well as a few mess halls. There are privacy screens that don’t actually offer much in the way of privacy and, there are personal care items for the nursing staff to use. Though I should also note we are not supposed to refer to them as nursing staff they are “test subject techs” or TST’s.
During the first week of the transition, my internal monologue was more defensive:
The animals are safe, the voiceless are no longer allowed to be abused.
These underproductive individuals (as we were told to refer to them before the test subject verbiage was introduced) were at least they’re being fed.
They are also being kept warm, and out of the elements.
But the defense is a thin lacquer, and it’s peeling.
By the second Tuesday, the smell of the new “Morning Moss” “Ace” body wash being tested on Wing B had become a daily migraine inducer. Walking the line, my eyes keep betraying our new protocols.
For instance our new employee handbook told us to only look at the test subjects Application Site, and specifically not their faces. But the face of Subject 00005 is a map of a life I recognize.
This man has the same deep creases around his mouth as I. Lines he got probably from a lifetime of frowning into the sun. He has the universal “factory slouch” the curvature of the spine that comes from decades of being a human bracket for a machine.
In the back of my head though the corporate training video whispered the reminder, “He’s not smart or strong enough. This is a person capitalism can’t make anything from.” The thoughts loop during the drive home, rhythmic with my windshield wipers.
Capitalism can’t make anything from him. It’s a lie. They are making plenty. They are making data points on dermal toxicity and allergic reactions. They are harvesting the only thing he has left: his physical body.
Then the following night, standing in front of the bathroom mirror at home, my internal processing turned inward. Becoming something more sharp and clinical than ever before. My reflection is a catalog of “Under-Productivity.”
The graying now spreads through my entire beard. The way my breath hitches after climbing a set of stairs or a steep hill. The slow, creeping onset aging of a man who spent his youth filling and lifting boxes that are now moved by a robotic arm.
I am a surplus human, the thought lands with a sickening thud.
The fear isn’t that I’ll lose this job; the fear is that I’ll qualify for the next one.
That one morning, my badge won’t beep at the turnstile, and the HR manager will lead me not to an alternate exit, but to a cot.
That Thursday’s shift was my breaking point. Its final tipping point was the sensory overlap. A test subject in Wing C, a man about fifty, wearing a faded wedding band that he refused to take off.
Was having a reaction to a high-concentrate antiperspirant. His skin was an angry, and violent, weeping red… mess. He never uttered one complain. He just sat there with his eyes closed, breathing in the same synthetic “Cool Mountain” scent that I’ve been bottling for twenty years.
The realization came in a cold, drenching wave.
I am not the observer.
I am the precursor.
Every bottle I cap on the production line is a potential chemical burn for the individuals on the cots, and every hour I spend aging at my station brings me closer to sitting where they are.
We are pieces of the same closed loop. The factory creates the product, the factory creates the “unproductive” worker, and the factory uses the latter to validate the former.
The drive home on Friday morning is a silent one.
No radio.
No distractions.
The sandalwood and synthetic moss cling to the fabric of the seats in my Honda, a funeral shroud of consumer goods. Pulling into the driveway, my house looks too small, almost fragile.
I look at my hands on the steering wheel. They are steady, but they feel heavy, as if the clipboard is already being replaced by the weight of a test patch.
My mental struggle is no longer about “them or us.”
It’s the terrifying realization that in a world where a body must be a battery or a lab rat, I am just a battery that is running out of charge.
Eventually we all will become the lab rat.
I stay in the car long after the engine has cooled, watching my neighborhood’s lights flicker on.
I begin to wonder which of my neighbors are still “productive,” and how many of us are just waiting for our shelf life to expire.
Before you leave:
Thank you for reading the fourth story in the “Scars of Fitting in” series. This piece explores the terrifying intersection of labor and human value.
I hope this look into the “closed loop” of the factory gave you something to think about.
Maybe it even echoed something within your own experience. Be looking out for more stories like this and others that I will be released periodically across WordPress, Substack, Wattpad, Quotev, Inkitt, and other platforms.
These shorts will each explore the outside forces that work to shape us.
Please feel free to follow along, and check back soon to continue this collection and others grow. With Poeaxtry there is always more to come.
If you feel moved to do so please comment below and tell me what you think.
Did you hate this? Maybe you loved it?
Did it leave you somewhere in between?
I’d love to know more about what you think, no hard feelings I promise.
Tell me have you ever felt like a “surplus human” in our current system?
How would you react if you realized your job was just a countdown to becoming the subject?
If you wouldn’t mind consider sharing “Shelf Life of Productive Individuals” with someone who might resonate with this look at the cost of modern productivity. Or even your friend who just likes to read psychological thrillers.
Keep an eye out for the next entry in, “The Scars of Fitting In.”
The Legal Dagger: Why the Court Hit the Reset Button-
On Tuesday, the U.S. District Court for the Western District of North Carolina delivered a massive blow to federal agencies, officially voiding the revised Nantahala-Pisgah Forest Plan. The ruling found that the U.S. Forest Service and Fish and Wildlife Service relied on “flawed,” “unsupported,” and “deficient” science regarding endangered species. The finding noted specifically the forest bats which call these 1.1 million acres home.
The plan, which sought to quintuple logging across some of the most biodiverse land in the country, has been effectively halted. For those who bleed Appalachia, as I do, this isn’t just a legal win. But it’s a restoration of the balance between industry and the ancient spirit of the mountains.
The view off of frying pan tower in North Carolina.
Beyond the Paper: The View from the Frying Pan Tower-
To understand what was at stake, you have to look past the legal briefs and into the “Land of Waterfalls.” This isn’t just about timber; it’s about the sunrise over Frying Pan Tower and the 360-degree views that define the Blue Ridge Parkway.
For those of us who have walked these trails more recently, navigating the post-Helene rubble to reach the new Rainbow Bridge at Lake Lure or those who have been blessed to find themselves standing behind the curtain of Dry Falls… the forest is a place of healing.
When you’ve left a piece of your heart at a memorial bridge or felt the spray of Triple Falls the iconic “Hunger Games” backdrop, you know that “management” shouldn’t mean “extraction.”
Dry falls in North Carolina.
The “Land of Waterfalls” vs. The Timber Mill-
The court’s decision specifically targets the arbitrary nature of the plan’s biological opinion. The judge noted that the agencies essentially “cut corners,” ignoring how massive clear-cuts would impact habitat connectivity.
The new lake lure rainbow bridge.
Checkout my FAVORITE local landmarks:
• Looking Glass Falls
Sliding Rock
Living Waters The Old Mill
The Brevard/Transylvania Corridor
Downtown Asheville & Henderson
Also basically all of Pisgah
And who can forget the many roadside waterfalls
Hello sliding rock, can I have my breath back?
A Mountain Legacy: From West Virginia to Asheville-
For many of us, the connection to these hills is ancestral. Whether you’ve lived in Asheville for decades or your roots go back to the rugged ridges of West Virginia, the Appalachian range is one continuous heartbeat. The court’s ruling honors the voices of the 37,000 people who spoke out against the plan. This reminding us that the “ancient” side of the forest is what makes it home.
By voiding the plan, the court has ensured that the morning sunrises at the overlooks and the quiet creek walks in Pisgah remain as they should be: protected.
Gorgeous waterfall near New River Gorge in West Virginia.
What Happens Next?
The Forest Service must now go back to the drawing board. They are legally required to redo their analysis with accurate, science-based data that accounts for the Endangered Species Act.
Until then, the “pause” button remains pressed.
The waterfalls will continue to roar, the roadside mines will keep their secrets, and the soul of Appalachia remains standing.
What do you think? Does this ruling do enough to protect the private rehab lands and the “secret” falls we all love, or is this just a temporary stay of execution for Pisgah and other National Forrest areas?
