The Little Lyon’s Falls escarpment in the Mohican State Forest visually dwarfs young Alex Ramey, a hiker from Wooster, (above) as she explores the geologic features from her challenging angle of view.
ANOTHER ROMP IN THE FOREST--
I recently discovered the perfect hike in the Mohican Forest.
Picture beginning with a fairly level walk upstream along the Clear Fork Branch of the Mohican River as it thunders its own beginning trek downstream to the Ohio River, the Mississippi Delta and the world beyond.
“Here’s where we hope to someday build a handicapped accessible trail that would be paved and go from the picnic area, under the covered bridge and continuing upstream to the dam, a delightfully level 3/4 miles along the east side of the river,” described Jim South of the Mohican Trails Club, our leader for the day’s robust adventure.
More on that later as that is the route we will follow on our own final leg of the day’s romp in this pristine forest.
Across that covered bridge we launch our small group on what is also the celebration of National Trails Day being heralded nation-wide on this date by groups like ours.
Towering evergreen trees and their cousins of the deciduous variety render us as mere organic specks as we savor the humid aroma of the mature woods. We carefully negotiate the spring’s moist slipperiness on the rustic but occasionally challenging, blazed path heading toward Big Lyon’s Falls.
We are delightfully flanked by the river to our right and the heavily wooded sandstone formations to our left while wildflowers that favor this moist forest twinkle their salutes to our passage.
A ways upstream our trail does a 90 degree bend to the left and begins a gentle ascent, ultimately following the discharge stream from the senior falls with Lyon’s name (left).
Along the way we enjoy a chat with two Mennonite bird watchers who are temporarily distracted by serious consultations with their own map of the forest’s trail system.
Then, like a giant, geologic apparition the falls materializes; a vertical carving in the sandstone bedrock like the concave hollow in a glacier that had calved itself. And, it was baptized with gentle fingers of the stream tumbling in their steep drop to its outlet.
A group of hikers preceding us were taking turns splashing in the fall’s cooling shower. I hoped the water bottle I found littering the stream after their departure wasn’t theirs.
The trail that once lead from the big to the little falls used to diagonal up the face of the escarpment and disappear in the woods beyond; rocky stairs carved years ago now eroded into unsafe usefulness.
So we backtracked slightly along what we learned might have been a stagecoach trail once upon a time then trundled up and up on a new course heading generally toward the Pleasant Hill Lake dam somewhere up there about 1 and a half miles ahead of us.
Soon, the deeply carved formation leading out of the smaller Lyon’s Falls appeared like a
dangerous fracture in the earth’s crust. You certainly wouldn’t want to be wandering around here in the dark.
While I was shuddering at my own limited courage in this close proximity on the top of the crevasse some youngsters who had joined our small hiking troupe merrily slithered and plunged their way down to the invisible-to-me pool below the falls, and—amazingly--returned (right).
Meanwhile, I focused my attention on the more pedestrian enjoyment of nearby wildflowers.
Soon they popped back into our presence and we headed toward the dam which would provide our bridge to cross to the downstream leg of our hike.
The trail climbed some more and slowly morphed into a dominating rock formation which framed our view of the lake’s surface in the adjacently towering trees and we emerged from the forest on top of the dam with power boats buzzing far below.
This was the turn-around pit stop on the hike and after surviving the steep descent on the dam’s face we found ourselves on a vehicle-width and very level trail which eased itself downstream toward the covered bridge of our adventure’s origin.
Once again we encountered our bird watching duet patiently searching the riparian canopy for a very elusive warbler. “These fellows are very serious birders,” I mused silently.
Our hike concluded from the opposite end of the handicapped trail envisioned at the start of this story and what could one day be a world-class way for folks less fortunate in mobility to sample the treasures of this state forest and its companion river.
ANOTHER ROMP IN THE FOREST--
I recently discovered the perfect hike in the Mohican Forest.
Picture beginning with a fairly level walk upstream along the Clear Fork Branch of the Mohican River as it thunders its own beginning trek downstream to the Ohio River, the Mississippi Delta and the world beyond.
“Here’s where we hope to someday build a handicapped accessible trail that would be paved and go from the picnic area, under the covered bridge and continuing upstream to the dam, a delightfully level 3/4 miles along the east side of the river,” described Jim South of the Mohican Trails Club, our leader for the day’s robust adventure.
More on that later as that is the route we will follow on our own final leg of the day’s romp in this pristine forest.
Across that covered bridge we launch our small group on what is also the celebration of National Trails Day being heralded nation-wide on this date by groups like ours.
Towering evergreen trees and their cousins of the deciduous variety render us as mere organic specks as we savor the humid aroma of the mature woods. We carefully negotiate the spring’s moist slipperiness on the rustic but occasionally challenging, blazed path heading toward Big Lyon’s Falls.
We are delightfully flanked by the river to our right and the heavily wooded sandstone formations to our left while wildflowers that favor this moist forest twinkle their salutes to our passage.A ways upstream our trail does a 90 degree bend to the left and begins a gentle ascent, ultimately following the discharge stream from the senior falls with Lyon’s name (left).
Along the way we enjoy a chat with two Mennonite bird watchers who are temporarily distracted by serious consultations with their own map of the forest’s trail system.
Then, like a giant, geologic apparition the falls materializes; a vertical carving in the sandstone bedrock like the concave hollow in a glacier that had calved itself. And, it was baptized with gentle fingers of the stream tumbling in their steep drop to its outlet.
A group of hikers preceding us were taking turns splashing in the fall’s cooling shower. I hoped the water bottle I found littering the stream after their departure wasn’t theirs.
The trail that once lead from the big to the little falls used to diagonal up the face of the escarpment and disappear in the woods beyond; rocky stairs carved years ago now eroded into unsafe usefulness.
So we backtracked slightly along what we learned might have been a stagecoach trail once upon a time then trundled up and up on a new course heading generally toward the Pleasant Hill Lake dam somewhere up there about 1 and a half miles ahead of us.
Soon, the deeply carved formation leading out of the smaller Lyon’s Falls appeared like a
dangerous fracture in the earth’s crust. You certainly wouldn’t want to be wandering around here in the dark.While I was shuddering at my own limited courage in this close proximity on the top of the crevasse some youngsters who had joined our small hiking troupe merrily slithered and plunged their way down to the invisible-to-me pool below the falls, and—amazingly--returned (right).
Meanwhile, I focused my attention on the more pedestrian enjoyment of nearby wildflowers.
Soon they popped back into our presence and we headed toward the dam which would provide our bridge to cross to the downstream leg of our hike.
The trail climbed some more and slowly morphed into a dominating rock formation which framed our view of the lake’s surface in the adjacently towering trees and we emerged from the forest on top of the dam with power boats buzzing far below.
This was the turn-around pit stop on the hike and after surviving the steep descent on the dam’s face we found ourselves on a vehicle-width and very level trail which eased itself downstream toward the covered bridge of our adventure’s origin.
Once again we encountered our bird watching duet patiently searching the riparian canopy for a very elusive warbler. “These fellows are very serious birders,” I mused silently.
Our hike concluded from the opposite end of the handicapped trail envisioned at the start of this story and what could one day be a world-class way for folks less fortunate in mobility to sample the treasures of this state forest and its companion river.
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