The Walk
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 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.
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.
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.
