What are your favorite physical activities or exercises?
Finding Joy in Movement: Why Physical Activity Matters
Staying active doesn’t have to mean being uncomfortable in a crowded gym. Especially if you’re like me and they make you feel like everyone is staring right at you. For me, the joy of movement comes from freedom, fresh air, and the quiet satisfaction of feeling my body work in ways that make sense. Some days, that means exploring the wilderness, gliding across water, or feeling the burn from resistance bands at home. Each activity has its own rhythm, its own kind of therapy, and its own reason I keep coming back.
Hiking: Walking Into Calm and Clarity
Hiking has always been my escape and my reset. The perfect blend of adventure, exercise, and self care. Trails lined with autumn leaves, the crunch of snow beneath my boots, or the earthy smell of the forest after rain. It ismore than just cardio. This is meditation in motion. Every incline challenges my endurance, every rocky path tests my balance, and reaching the summit gives a sense of accomplishment that no treadmill can replicate.
Hiking connects me with the outdoors in a way a gym never could. The open air, the sun on my face, the sound of water running or birds calling. The ability to collect rocks too! It really is a full-body experience that nurtures mind, body, and soul.
Swimming: Strength and Mindful Movements
Water has a magic of its own. Swimming isn’t just exercise; it’s a rhythm, a flow that eases tension and strengthens muscles without pounding joints. I love the quiet isolation of a pool or a calm lake. Letting your body feel the water engulf it. It’s a workout that also clears the mind, letting thoughts drift as easily as my body through water.
Plus, swimming teaches patience, timing, and breath control. It’s a meditative discipline, one that makes me feel strong, centered, and refreshed all at once.
Kayaking: Power, Peace, and Perspective
Kayaking combines strength, coordination, and a little bit of adventure. Paddling through calm waters or along river bends is meditative, but it also gives a satisfying upper-body and core workout. I love the tactile feedback of the paddle slicing water. The rhythm of each stroke, engaging my entire upper body in unison.
Being out on the water is also a perspective shift. There’s nothing like seeing a familiar landscape reflected in a river or lake to remind you that exercise can be about more than calories. It’s also about wonder, movement, and presence.
Home Workouts: Resistance Bands and Freedom from Gym Anxiety
I’ll admit it gyms aren’t my favorite. There’s something about the feeling of everyone watching, or that subtle pressure to “perform,” that drains the fun out of working out. That’s where my full-body resistance band set comes in. You can anchored to doors, a bar, or different hand/ ankle straps. Providing me a total-body workout at home, in private, and at less money than a gym membership for just two months .
Bands aren’t just convenient they’re versatile. From squats to rows to chest presses, every muscle gets attention without the intimidation of a crowded gym. It’s empowering to feel strong and capable while keeping my workouts entirely my own.
Moving Forward: Finding Your Flow
The truth is, the best exercise is the one that makes you want to keep moving. Whatever one you enjoy. Hiking, swimming, kayaking, and resistance band workouts are my favorites because they blend physical challenge, mental clarity, and a sense of freedom.
If you’ve been hesitant to try something new, think about what excites you outside the gym walls. Maybe it’s a trail you’ve never walked, a lake you’ve never paddled, or a quiet corner at home with bands ready to stretch and strengthen you. Movement is personal, and your perfect routine might surprise you.
Ready to Move With Me?
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On December 4, 2025, I dramatically layered up. I’m saying multiple layers, coveralls, a heated jacket, hiking shoes, 3 pairs of socks, multiple sweaters, and more! Then I headed out the lower gorge of Conkle’s Hollow State Nature Preserve. Of course I had to have friends with me so Skylar, the baby, strapped in. We found something rare… peace. No chatter, no other hikers, just the hush of winter slowing everything down. Literally not one other car at Conkles hollow beside a forest employee is UNHEARD OF!
We followed the path up to the first waterfall, just past where the concrete path ends. From there the trail becomes rougher. A little too uneven, icy, and rocky. Totally not ideal when you’re carrying or walking with a little one. So we paused the adventure there, grateful for what we saw, and turned back. Safety first, always.
The Grotto
The gorge in winter has a ghostly hush to it. Frozen trickles, patches of ice along the creek, stones dusted with snow, frost clinging to moss and rock. And we just got a nice bit of snow. To me it felt like walking inside a memory, or a dream. The cliffs loomed high, silent sentinels watching over the narrow floor beneath.
Even with the smaller hike (1.2 miles), coupled with the 29 degrees Fahrenheit the baby didn’t seem to mind. I felt the weight of quiet, with the kind of calm that demands you slow your breath, and your thoughts. That alone the silence, the cold, the hush, honestly made the hike worth it.
Even if you account the 5+ feral and ethereal gut wrenching screams I let out. I got the baby to join but Sky wouldn’t even try.
Frost Flowers
I only just learned about “frost flowers” earlier in the morning the day of this hike! These are surreal little winter magic flowers. What you’re seeing isn’t a true bloom, but thin ribbons of ice exiled from plant stems. This happens when cold air hits sap‑rich plants while the ground is still warm. Water gets drawn up from the roots, freezes in the stem, cracks it open, and then slowly seeps out and crystallizes in delicate, sheets of ice… fragile and fleeting, often gone by mid‑morning once sun or warmth touches them.
A Month Ago Rim Trail,
11/8/2025
A few weeks earlier, on November 8 my momma’s death anniversary, and a day I dedicate to celebrating her. Kylie and I walked the rim trail on the top of the rock walls at Conkles Hollow. The contrast between that high, exposed cliff line covered in early Autumn bliss and the now frozen ravine beneath struck hard.
I remember sitting on a sandstone edge, dangling my legs over the drop, taking in the leaves changing colors for mile in the forest, valley. Up there the wind carried memories, grief, quiet gratitude. Down below the gorge held silence and survival. And I now got to see just how high my seat really was. I basically had to do a backbend to see the top of the cliff from the gorge trail!
Walking the rim gave me perspective… on loss, on smallness, on beauty. Walking the gorge later with Skylar gave me gratitude… for warmth, life, safety, and the chance to bring new memory into old stone.
Why Conkle’s Hollow Means Something
Deeper
Conkle’s Hollow lies carved into the ancient bed of Black Hand Sandstone. These formed roughly 350 million years ago when this land was under a shallow sea. Over time, sands and silts compressed and hardened. Later Earth’s shifting gave rise to uplift, and water carved deep gullies and gorges into this sandstone. And that erosion sculpted the cliffs and narrow ravines you see today.
Cliffs of nearly 200 feet tower above a gorge so tight in places it’s only 100 feet across. Inside the gorge the micro‑climate supports ferns, hemlocks, hardwood trees, mosses and wildflowers. Deep shade, cool air, damp rock, and sometimes timelessness.
The preserve was purchased by the state in 1925, and dedicated as a protected area in 1977. This means these ancient cliffs and narrow depths are preserved, free for folks to walk through and reflect on age and time.
What to Know: Tips + Safety for a Winter Baby Hike
Lower Gorge trail: mostly paved or flat at first, but rougher after the concrete ends. Icy snow and uneven footing make anything past the first waterfall risky when carrying a baby or holding their hand. Dress in warm layers! I had three sweaters, three pants, and coveralls. Under a heated jacket. Hiking shoes with grip are essential when snow or ice coat stones or wood. Stay on marked trails. Cliffs rise high up to 200 feet and rims above the gorge are beautiful but dangerous when wet or icy. In winter the gorge is almost silent. So no crowds, no summer moisture but, that also means less water from the falls, and colder, steeper, slick-er terrain.
The “waterfall” pp
Nearby Trails & Bonus Stops Continue the Hocking Hills Journey
If you liked Conkle’s and want to wander more in the region, check these spots:
Cantwell Cliffs State Nature Preserve about 7 miles from Conkle’s Hollow on S.R. 374. Deep gorge, rugged terrain, canyon-like passageways and spring wildflowers. A great “next time” option for us since we had planned to go there before I became starved!
Rock House State Nature Preserve a “cave” cut into Black Hand Sandstone cliffs. Tunnel‑like, dramatic, offers a contrast to open gorge and rim walks.
Good for slow days, clear skies, or scratching your itch for hidden magic.
Reflection Loss, Life, Little Feet on Old Stone
Walking those cliffs and that gorge reminded me just how small I am… how fleeting we all are. Rock 350 million years young, carved slow over eons by water and time?! Well now compared to that, my grief and memories feel small.
Walking with the baby and my buddy down that gorge, past icy stones and silent walls, I felt something bigger. A bridge between the ancient, the lost, and the living. A chance to carve a new memory in the old stones of the world.
That’s the power of this land. It is timeless but alive. Harsh but beautiful. And it allows you hush your grief into the quiet of a winter gorge, and come out lighter.
Well, I’m finally feeling like answering the a daily Prompt again. Today’s prompt is… Beaches or mountains, and tell us why. And you know me, I ain’t picking. I love them both, but for very different reasons, and at different times.
I’m a mountain man. I like to hike. I like to find destinations that don’t have destinations. If nobody was around to stop me, I’d probably hike farther than I do, just to see a lot less than I do. Ohio is sacred there’s something sacred in the quiet, in the moments between one peak and the next. Being out in nature, away from people, away from screens, schedules, and most important to me no one’s bothering me about being trans. I just exist. Seeing and feeling things sometimes that’s everything. Sometimes I touch a tree, just to touch it, and whisper “thank you,” like it’s listening.
I’m also not always trying to disappear into the woods. Sometimes I want to feel the sand between my toes, sip a mojito by the ocean, let the sun hang on my skin. And yet… even then, there’s that itch to pick up my tent, walk farther than anyone else, and not see a soul for a day or two. I’m the one who goes out over their head in the ocean when swimming, just because I can. The water is alive, and I want to be alive in it too.
I’ve been chasing both my whole life. When I lived in Vegas, every other weekend we’d drive through the mountains just to get to LA. The mountains, the hills, the twists and turns they made the journey alive. Nature isn’t one thing to me. Clearly the ocean is nature. The woods are nature. The mountains are nature. Unless it’s Florida. I ain’t never been, and I don’t plan on it either.
So which do I love more? I don’t. I love them both, for different reasons, at different times. The mountains feed my soul with quiet and effort. The beaches feed my soul with freedom and motion. Sometimes it’s the smell of pine. Sometimes it’s the taste of salt water on my lips or smelling it hanging in the air. Sometimes it’s just sitting still, sometimes I know it’s walking farther than I’ve ever walked before. Both remind me why I need nature at all, and both remind me why I’ll keep chasing it, wherever it is.
We set out pretty early considering we got off work at 6am. I left my house and headed to pick up Sky and The baby shortly after 12 noon. We had been planning three hikes. The Hosak’s Cave Trail to warm up. Then Morgan’s Knob Loop for waterfalls and a summit. Finally finishing up with Stone House Loop to walk through history. By the time we came down from Knob loop, though, the sky was reaching beyond dusk. The pine trees formed a tunnel of shadows, and there was no way we could safely complete the third trail. Considering our lack of headlamps and the baby in tow.. we left it. But what we did finish the cave, the climb, and the peace felt like more than enough.
Exploring the Cave
Climbing into Hosak’s Cave was like slipping into another world. We ignored the “trail ends here” signs. Well Luna and I did at least. We then pushed past rough sandstone walls, slipped on loose dirt way to high up, and then found a seat up there too tucked just under the cave’s roof. I sat there for a long moment. I felt the rock beneath me, the forest breathing just beyond the cave’s mouth, and the drip of water somewhere i couldn’t quite see. It felt sacred, strong, feral. It was like the stone held stories just for me. It reminded me of Red River Gorge, but quieter, deeper, soaked in stillness.
Hosak’s cave
Morgan’s Knob Loop
Then came Morgan’s Knob. The trail wound through rooted forest, climbing gently, until it opened up into rocky outcroppings. At the top, the wind and the stone told me a few import things. The fists was that this land was older than all of us. It reminded me time does not rush here the way people do. Before I left thought it added that no matter what people who are different belong.
Morgan’s Knob Loop Trail
Salt Fork State Park: Geology and Geography
All around us, Salt Fork State Park stretched wide. It’s the largest state park in Ohio. This park covers a massive 20,181 acres roughly of rugged hills, ravines, and ridges. Its terrain belongs to the unglaciated Allegheny Plateau. Simply put that means the hills and valleys were never flattened by ice. This gives the park its wild, carved feel. The rock underfoot is sandstone, shale, and siltstone. These formed in ancient layers of Pennsylvanian-age geology. They eventually erode unevenly over time, forming caves like Hosak’s, cliffs, and even blocks of sandstone that break off and slump down.
Salt Licks and Human Use
The name “Salt Fork” comes from mineral salt springs. The natural licks where animals once gathered.
Native Americans, including the Wyandot, harvested the salt for food and trade. In the 1800s, settlers drilled wells nearly 450 feet deep to extract brine, which was boiled down into salt for commercial use.
These salt licks helped shape how the land was used, how people lived, and what wildlife visited.
History and Local Lore
Speaking of people, history runs deep here. Kennedy Stone House, built in 1837 from sandstone quarried nearby. Is still standing in the park. It was built by Benjamin Kennedy, whose family lived there for more than a century. The house eventually became a museum, preserved by a volunteer group that revived it in the early 2000s. Local lore suggests Hosak’s Cave was used as a hide-out during the Civil War. This rocky overhang, as creaky as it looks, has seen more than just hikers.
Legends and Bigfoot
If you hike Salt Fork, you’ll find places you wouldn’t expect: meadows, deep forest, ridges, and stream valleys. But there’s also a weird, beautiful piece of legend here. Bigfoot tales swirl through these hills. According to local reports, more than 36 Bigfoot sightings have been claimed here since the mid‑1980s. The park even hosts Bigfoot Night Hikes. These hikes are where people walk in the dark, listening, eyes open, hoping for something monstrous and mysterious. One of the wildest things the park was ranked by USA Today as one of the top “Squatchiest” places in the U.S.
The upcoming Eco‑Discovery Center includes a Bigfoot character for environmental education.
I for one am totally down for a Bigfoot night hike!
Native American Stories
Native American stories, too, speak of the place. According to a geological survey, the Wyandot people used the caves for shelter. They may have harvested salt from the licks. In certain remote caves, “hominy holes” or pits in the stone used as ovens served as places to bake cornbread. It’s hard not to feel their presence when you touch those walls.
Modern Park Activities
Salt Fork Lake
Today, Salt Fork is alive for modern adventurers. There are 14 scenic hiking trails and six bridle paths. The lake, made when the Salt Fork Dam was built (completed in the late 1960s), spans thousands of acres. The lake offers boating, fishing, and quiet reflection as common in Ohio lake life. There’s also a nature center, archery range, miniature golf, and a lodge nestled in the woods. For families, the park runs a gem‑mining station, where kids sift for semi‑precious rocks and fossils. Which we all know kid or not is RIGHT UP MY ALLEY! Geologically, this place is a gem.
Personal Reflection
Walking Salt Fork felt like walking through time. The cave and rocks held ancient stories. The summit whispered of wind, motivation, moss, and manifestation . The forest pulsed with leaves, legends, salt, and shadow. By the time we left, I carried something soft and heavy. As well as a piece of earth, memory, and wonder.o
Luna and I near a stick fort on Morgan’s Knob loop.
Nature as Meditation
This hike felt different… refreshing, soul‑cleansing still but different. I didn’t think about deadlines or noise. For once my head was full of only leaves and rocks, trees and quiet hours, quality time with nature instead of running amuck. This hike wasn’t about conquering anything. Today was about listening, slowing, and sitting in spirit. Nature held still for us, and we held still for nature.
Hiking today felt different for me. I wasn’t pushing for a peak, checking my watch, or rushing to do do do. I was quiet. Listening. Letting rock and leaf and shadow hold me steady for a few hours.When we left, I felt lighter but not less.
The Line of trees guarding the trail
Fracking and Controversy
Near the edges of Salt Fork State Park, fracking is no longer just a rumor. This is happening and in a way that worries a lot of people. According to WOSU, the first well pad was built just outside the park boundary, and from there, the wells will go deep underground and then horizontally beneath the park’s terrain. The process involves pumping millions of gallons of water mixed with sand and chemicals into the rock layers to break them apart and release gas.
Environmental groups like Save Ohio Parks argue this isn’t compatible with natural, protected land. These forests are dense, biodiverse, and some experts say they’re second only to the Amazon for ecological richness. The fracking infrastructure could permanently harm the ecosystem.
Water is a major concern. Each frack well could use 4 to 10 million gallons of fresh water, according to the advocacy group. Some of that water could come from local lakes and streams. Yes, even the waters that feed Salt Fork Lake. Which will then return as toxic wastewater. That wastewater is often radioactive and must be injected deep underground. Thus raising long-term risks.
There have also been safety incidents: in January 2025, a well pad roughly five miles from the park had an explosion. While no injuries or water contamination were reported, the accident only increased community fears.
On top of that, dozens of environmental and public‑land groups are calling for a moratorium on fracking in Ohio’s parks. They argue the dangers are not just theoretical. Let’s be real… the land, water, and wildlife here deserve better than industrial extraction.
From forest fragmentation, constant truck traffic, night‑lighting, and the risk of chemical or wastewater leaks. The opponents say fracking could permanently change the character of Salt Fork.
It’s like an addict injecting poison deep into their veins. They continue hoping it stays contained… yet their body, or the earth, doesn’t always cooperate. Pressure builds, tremors come, and what you inject may seep into places you never intended, or imagined.
Yet here, in the wild heart of Salt Fork, that reckless injection threatens not just the rocks and streams, but the quiet sanctuary that has lasted for millennia.
A half-volume. A moment to pause, breathe, and catch you up between the big drops.
If you missed the last one, Volume 9 was all about Revolt, Solo zines, Collabs, and getting our bodies into motion particularly in nature aka hiking. And now Volume 9.5 picks up where that energy left off.
📚 Kindle Unlimited + Poeaxtry Publications
Just in case you missed it or forgot…
All 3 of my self-published eBooks plus my full prompt journal with poems written to every single prompt are available on Kindle Unlimited.
✨ Subscribers can read them all free with their membership.
Each piece is its own reflection, rooted in resistance, softness, and persistence, poetry that walks through the same dirt paths I do.
📖 Titles currently live on Kindle Unlimited:
“Beginnings & Endings”
“Because I was Prompted”
“Ramblings of the Lost and Found”
“I like to read; you like to watch the life drain out of a person.”
🚨 Zines aren’t on Kindle Unlimited… yet.
You can still find every zine and eBook digitally on Etsy, Gumroad, and Payhip with more platforms coming soon… as I expand The Prism’s reach.
💌 Not a KU subscriber? No worries.
You can request free access to read any of my solo Poeaxtry Poetry Prism publications — all I ask in return is an honest review. Fill the form out here or email me at poeaxtry@gmail.com for any questions or concerns.
💎 New Creations from the Workbench
Between edits, submissions, and hikes, I’ve been busy in the studio. And I finally upgraded my jewelry designs.
The new bales I ordered changed everything: now, each piece dangles freely, no longer cradled by a “ball”. It’s just the stone, the metal, the magic. Though you can still get the stones with the balls & still be able to change stones out. There’s just two options now instead of one!
They move, catch the light differently, and feel more alive. That on theme with the rest of what’s changing around here.
Keep an eye out for new listings of stone necklaces and keychains soon on Etsy or Locally at Frogwood Boardshop in Heath, Ohio.
🌿 Trails, Edges, and Inspiration
My most recent hike took me all the way to The Edge of Appalachia preserve. A place that felt like standing in two worlds at once.
The silence out there writes its own poems if you listen long enough.
There’s something about dirt, stone, and distance that sharpens your creative edges. At least for me it does.
That trip brought a lot of clarity, and maybe even sparked the next adventure… we’ll see.
Oh and expect a surprise zine and/or ebook drop sometime. I am honestly, sitting on a few completely finished just waiting for me to give in and, give them to you.
✍️ 15 Poems & a Manuscript Out in the World
For the first time in a while, I submitted 15 poems to publications outside my own press. And for the first time ever I submitted an entire manuscript. Fingers crossed🤞🏻
It’s nerve-wracking, grounding, and freeing. Somehow all at once.
Every “submit” click is another way of saying, I still believe in this.
📢 Collabs Still Open
Both of the following collabs are still live and accepting submissions:
💬 Voices for the Voiceless — for marginalized creators and allies speaking on silenced or stolen narratives.
🌈 The Joy They Can’t Erase — a collection centered on joy, resistance, and unapologetic presence from gender nonconformist voices and allies.
You can always find details and submission links through The Prism hub or my links.
💬
This little half-volume is a pulse check. The proof that even between the “big” releases, there’s always movement here.
New work, new stones, new trails new seasons, and new stories.
I am still creating, still showing up, still loud where silence used to live, and even more unapologetic about it.
Lately, my days have been stitched together with rhythm, motion, and momentum. Between writing, wandering, and building, I’ve been in constant creation mode. Trying to push Poeaxtry_ forward piece by piece, letter by letter, and stone by stone.
Poetry in Progress
Poetry remains the pulse of everything I do. I’ve been refining collections, experimenting with new mediums, and returning to the unfiltered edges that started it all. Some pieces are bound for ebooks or zines, others will live on new mediums but, all of them carry my usual mix of grit, grace, and rebellion.
Hiking Content & Nature Notes
When I’m not writing or working, I’m outside gathering stories and stones in motion. My hiking content is growing. With new trails, new reflections, and new emotional field notes. Every step through the Red River Gorge or along Ohio’s riverbeds feeds my words and connects the wild to the written. Expect more field journal-style posts, rockhounding creations, and unfiltered snapshots of nature’s poetry.
Publishing & New Places for My Books
I’ve been exploring new ways to publish, both traditionally grassroots and digitally independent. I’m expanding The Prism’s reach and testing new outlets for my books to be seen, shared, and supported without compromising creative freedom. Accessibility and inclusivity remain my core goals: every voice deserves space, and I intend to keep building those spaces.
New Mediums Still Under Wraps
Some projects are still secret… new mediums, new blends of voice and vision that don’t fit in any current box. Let’s just say they’ll connect the poetic, creative, and digital in unexpected ways. When they’re ready, you’ll know.
Consistency & Community
I’ve been working on showing up both consistently and intentionally. Whether it’s posting, crafting poetry collabs through The Prism, or connecting with nature, every move is about growth that stays rooted. I’m not just building a brand… I’m building a movement.
All of this ties back to my purpose: to create spaces for minority and ally voices, to protect and publish truth through creativity, and to keep Poeaxtry_ alive as more than a name. And as a living, evolving community of creators.
It’s been a season of creation, collaboration, and quiet groundwork. Every poem, hike, and idea adds another layer to what’s coming next. And a stronger community, a louder voice, a deeper impact.
Want to grow with me?
Follow Poeaxtry_ for prompts, collabs, and updates on the next wave of releases, and if you’re a creator looking for a home for your words, The Prism is always open.
So now I ask you what are you working on? Where are you showing up for yourself or others?
Hiking journal prompt : What are you running away from out here?
There’s something about stepping onto a trail that feels like coming home. The air changes. The noise quiets. The mind unclenches. Hiking, for me, isn’t about escaping. And it’s about belonging somewhere the rest of the world seems to have forgotten. When I head into the woods, I’m not running from life; I’m walking straight into it. Every sound, every smell, every touch of sunlight through the trees reminds me what it means to be here.
The Misunderstood Prompt
I’ve seen the prompt a dozen times:
“What are you running away from?”
And every time, I roll my eyes.
Because I’m not running.
I’m walking and it is done intentionally, deliberately into something better.
People seem to think hiking or wandering into the woods must be about escape. About running from stress, pain, or responsibility. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Some of us aren’t escaping; we’re returning.
Hiking as Connection, Not Escape
Nature has never been about avoidance for me. It’s about connection. It’s where I can breathe air that doesn’t taste like electricity and exhaust. It’s where I can hear my thoughts echo off canyon walls instead of drowning in noise. It’s where I process. And not because I’m hiding, but because I can.
Why I Hike
There’s something about standing at the base of a waterfall, water roaring louder than any voice in your head, that reminds you how small and infinite you are all at once.
Or the way a rock formation curves like Earth sculpted itself out of curiosity.
The clear streams, the swimming holes nobody’s touched but the wind, the silence that hums with life. It all of it feels like beauty that demands presence, not avoidance.
The Joy of Simplicity
And you know what else? It’s inexpensive joy.
It doesn’t always require subscriptions, equipment, or luxury.
It typically asks only for time and attention: two things society has taught us to ration like currency.
We live in a world that keeps us glued to screens, boxed inside jobs that drain more than they fill. Hiking is rebellion in motion. It’s choosing to step out of that cycle. And not to run from it, but to remember what living actually feels like.
Not Running Away—Running With It
So no, I’m not trying to escape anything.
I’m not running from the world.
I’m running with it.
Every step on a trail, every rock I turn over, every scent of pine or honeysuckle that stops me in my tracks, is a reminder that I belong here. That we all do.
So next time you see someone wandering deep into the trees, don’t assume they’re lost or running away. Maybe they just know something you’ve forgotten:
The wilderness doesn’t demand reasons.
It only asks that you show up.
Walking beside memory
It’s also something that connects me deeply to my mother. Hiking was something we both loved, together and apart. Some of my favorite memories are of us out on trails, discovering wildflowers, or stopping just to listen to birds we couldn’t name. Now that she’s gone, hiking has become something sacred. It’s how I reach for her when I can’t call her. It’s how I feel closest to her… on those quiet trails where the world slows down enough for me to remember her laughter, her patience, and the way she always pointed out the smallest, most beautiful things I might have missed.
Hiking isn’t about distance, it’s about depth.
It’s not an act of escape; it’s an act of return. Out there, I remember who I am and where I came from. I find my mother in the wind, my peace in the rivers, and my purpose in the rhythm of my own steps. So no, I’m not running away. I’m finding my way home, over and over again.
Tonight, the woods whispered. At about 5 p.m. to 8 p.m., with the air soft and mild. At 65°F. I wandered Infirmary Mound Park with Skyler, her daughter, and a friend. We strolled slowly (about 1.58 miles total), savoring every curve of the Fairy Trail and the Mirror Lake Overlook Loop. We paused. We watched the sun drape itself in gold over quiet water and tree silhouettes. We listened.
Nestled just south of Granville, Ohio, Infirmary Mound Park spans roughly 316 acres under the care of the Licking Park District.
It offers seven miles of mixed-use trails for hikers, bikers, and horseback riders.
One of the park’s quiet claims to ancient mystery is its namesake: the Infirmary Mound. Which is a prehistoric earthwork now reduced by centuries of cultivation. It’s subtle, almost hidden in the slope of the land, but carries a weight of past human presence.
Mirror Lake sits at the heart of the park and is a favored spot for still-water reflections and gentle paddling (kayaks, canoes, SUP are allowed) .
Near the lake is also the Wildflower / Fairy Trail, a whimsical loop (¼ mile) populated with “fairy houses,” wildflowers, and shaded woodland paths.
The Licking Park District has also invested in play and nature engagement: there’s a Nature Playscape honoring both hill and streamside ecology and the cultural history of the site.
Recent upgrades have added more inclusive play structures.
If you want to explore more maps and layout: the park’s trail map shows color-coded segments like Blue (1.45 mi), White (0.85 mi), Green, Yellow, Red connectors, etc.
Our Evening Walk
We entered just before golden hour, the sun low but still lofty enough to pierce through the trees. Because we walked slow, the forest revealed itself more fully: a small mushrooms near roots, delicate wildflowers bowing, mossy trunks, occasional birds calling in the distances.
What a fun guy (fungi)
On the fair trail (one of our chosen paths), the walk felt intimate: wood chips underfoot, soft shadows stretching, that shade-light dance you can only get just before dusk. The trail meandered, curling us through trees lined by tiny fairy homes.
When we reached the Mirror Lake Overlook Loop, the moment struck. The lake’s surface was almost glass: silver, then gold, then purple as the sun leaned back. The overlook bench gave us a moment to pause. Smoke filled our lungs as we took in the views of: tree crowns, water reflections, and the slow breathing of evening.
We paused often… to point out a flower, to watch a fish skim the surface, to listen to wind sift through oak leaves. No rush.
By the time we looped back, dusk was already here, and colors folded into soft but darkened blues . Our pace carried us gently home.
Reflections & Notes to Remember
That 1.58 mi may have felt small, but we got far more in return: quiet conversation, time, softness. Even though Infirmary Mound is reduced in form, knowing people once shaped this land adds a haunting echo. The park is open dawn to dusk. Restroom facilities are vault-style, and the park welcomes pets (on leash). Want to try the fairy trail? It’s short and enchanting. Remember it is only May through October.
It was around 70 °F when we set out today. I think that’s close to a perfect temperate for wandering among waterfalls, woodland, and scars left by the river currently and years ago. The crew: Luna, Kylie, and me. We parked by the covered bridge at Mohican State Park and embarked on a loop that wove us past 2 cascading falls, a dam and spillway, forested slopes, and the gentle murmur of the stream flowing through.
🌿 Trail & Park Overview
Mohican State Park spans about 1,110 acres, nestled in Ashland County, Ohio, along the south shore of Pleasant Hill Lake. The Clear Fork branch of the Mohican River carves a gorge through the park. Surrounding it is the Mohican-Memorial State Forest, which adds many miles of trails to explore.
The hike we did is a combination of what’s called the Pleasant Hill & Lyons Falls Loop or Covered Bridge → Little & Big Lyons Falls → Pleasant Hill Dam route. Though many sources list that loop as ~2 to 2.5 miles, I stretched ours into an “almost 4 mile loop” by taking side paths, lingering, and sometimes doubling back for shots.
The covered bridge by which we parked is a picturesque structure over The Mohican River, built in 1968 using native hardwoods. It’s a frequent trailhead point for the falls loop and a favored photo spot. There’s a link at the end of the post for an album containing the photos i took!
Big Lyons Falls (the “larger” fall) and Little Lyons Falls are named after historic characters Paul Lyons and Thomas Lyons (yes, Thomas allegedly wore a necklace of 99 human tongues in lore). Big Lyons is often described as having a more dramatic drop into a canyon-like cliff amphitheater; Little Lyons offers views from above, a box-canyon feel.
After the falls, a side spur leads to Pleasant Hill Dam and the “morning glory” spillway (a flood control feature) that adds a modern, engineered contrast to the raw rock and forest. The dam and spillway are part of the hydrologic control for the Pleasant Hill reservoir system.
The return path follows riverbanks, crossing small footbridges and boardwalks, letting you drift back to the covered bridge.
📷 Our Experience & Photo Highlights
We parked at the covered bridge, as before when Luna and I visited during the fire tower hike. Thus, the place feels familiar, comfortable. With the selfie stick + tripod, we paused at multiple vantage points: on bridge itself, on a walkway by the dam, under a boulder, and close to the falls. At Big Lyons, the amphitheater pour with, wet rocks, and water access we recorded videos walking under. We climbed stairs near the falls, careful on slippery surfaces (wet rock + moss = tricky). Little Lyons offered a vantage from the top edge of the drop; we explored carefully, watching our footing. I am clumsy.
We detoured toward the dam & spillway, capturing architectures meeting water, especially at the “morning glory” opening. Our loop felt longer than standard because we paused, lingered, and sometimes retraced paths, or lingered longer. My dog trotted ahead excitedly, nose to stone and river spray, bounding between roots and rocks. The 70 °F warmth made the forest feel lush and alive, especially when we broke into sunlit clearings.
📝 Tips & Observations
Footwear & grip matter. Moss, wet rock, stairs near falls = slippery. Timing light. Early or late in day gives softer side-light on falls and river. Bring gear and protection. Water spray + humidity can fog lenses. Know trail mileage is flexible. The “loop” is often marketed shorter, but you can extend or wander. Dogs are allowed (on leash). I kept mine leashed, especially near drop edges. Use the covered bridge as start/anchor. It’s accessible and scenic. It is a great staging point. Pause for sound & mood, not just visuals. The river murmuring, leaf rustles, quiet corners enrich the story.
Sunday is technically a work night for me. I’m a weekend warrior at the nursing home, but that doesn’t stop the pull of a perfect September afternoon. I woke up early around 2 p.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. The weather was reading a nice 80 degrees, clear skies, the kind of day that begs for a quick escape, if you cannot fit in a full escape. Luna, my dog, was already side-eyeing me like she knew what was coming, wheels spinning in my head. I swear she knows me better than anyone.
We ran to the car, like it was a race. Of course we made a quick pit stop at the drive-thru for a zero Red Bull, before we hit the road. Dennison Biological Reserve is one of our go-to spots when we want a short burst of fresh air, greenery, and wildlife without committing to a full-day hike. It is right up the street though technically a different town. Granville, Ohio is home to this local gem. Be respectful, leave no trace, don’t interfere with the natural environment as the college uses it for their programs and is nice enough to allow public access. They even leave out doggie bowls for water! Bless!!
Arboretum Loop Trail
We went straight for the Arboretum Loop Trail, and today we did it twice. It’s a flat, easy loop, perfect for a brisk half mile that we covered in under 10 minutes per lap. The trail is simple but full of little discoveries. Luna bounced along the path, sniffing everything, clearly enjoying the change in scenery. I spotted a striking yellow-and-blue butterfly, among the flowers as if it had been painted there for the occasion.
At one point, we stumbled across an entire raccoon skeleton. Luna pulled and sniffed the air curiously, but I didn’t allow her close. I also didn’t risk collecting them for chimes and wands because roundworms aren’t worth that. Though, I couldn’t help but pause and appreciate how these small, almost hidden details make even short trips feel like an adventure. That’s the beauty of these local spots accessible and full of unexpected wildlife moments.
Why These Small Trips Matter
Even short trips like this make a difference. Being outside, moving, seeing wildlife, and noticing details like a butterfly’s wing or the pattern of leaves in sunlight. At least for me is a reset for my brain. It doesn’t matter that we only did a mile; walking, breathing fresh air, and being somewhere alive with natural details gives me the kind of mental recharge that sticks with me for hours. The sunlight is a big part of what makes this so important for someone like me with seasonal affective disorder. Though I would argue sunlight is important in boosting almost every individuals day… in the right situations.
Autumn Leaves on The Arboretum Trail
These little adventures remind me that you don’t always need a full day or a long trail to feel recharged. Even a short loop or two at a local reserve can be enough to clear the head, reset perspective, and get me ready to handle the rest of my day… or night at work. Now I’ll be feeling much lighter and more grounded.
Local Highlights
Wildlife spotting: Butterflies, raccoon skeletons, birds, and the occasional squirrel or chipmunk. Trail accessibility: Seasonal vibes: September afternoons bring warmth, crisp air, and long shadows… perfect for photography or just breathing it all in.
Dennison Biological Reserve is one of those gems that’s easy to forget until you need it. Quick, local, low-commitment, but high in payoff for mood, energy, and mental clarity. Even a single mile, a short loop, can remind you why you keep chasing little moments of nature.
Though just to note there is also a close to 2 mile loop here and another closer to 3.5 mile loop. That both sit on a privately owned no access allowed lake/pond. Please respect others and their property and do not disturb the private lake areas.
