THE BUCKEYE TRAIL--

On its journey through

The Hocking Hills...

When you leave the parking lot at the upper end of Old Man’s Cave you are immediately immersed in geologic grandeur.

One moment there is the hum-drum of civilization. Just paces later humans are marginalized by an Earth that reveals rocky formations that rattle your senses while flowing water soothes your soul.

Trees tower everywhere while they tip-toe through colossal colonies of ferns. Over there another evergreen clings to its rocky rampart while yet another rots in the moist humidor on the floor of the gorge.

A tiny human mind tries but fails to wrap itself around the millions of years of geologic force that has laid bare this spectacle that even now undergoes silent, eroding evolution one grain at a time.

The forces that have left this creation count their hours in epochs. And, visitors trundle on trying to grasp the immensity of time that is now our pallet; our visual treat to enjoy and try to understand.

Nancy would stop and spread her hands and her jolly eyes would plead with us to pause and enjoy the sound of natural silence.

Oh my, do I really have to leave this place.

But, life goes on and so do we.

Down past the Devil’s Bathtub and the cave where the old man lived, past the Sphinx Head formation before we tumble into the rocky amphitheater around the Lower Falls.

All that in the first mile of our hike along the Buckeye Trail which traces its way through the gorge known as Old Man’s Cave; this segment but a chip-shot in that trail’s 1,400 mile circumnavigation of our state.

The cave venue ends but the trail continues another three miles to Cedar Falls, every step providing a kaleidoscope of rocky formations including the dizzying mystery of a stream that flows first one way, then another.

At Cedar Falls the trail does an ascent and promptly deposits hikers on a gravel path that disappears in the forest toward Ash Cave. It’s like being ejected from a visual symphony.

But, we trundle on and follow the blue blazes through woods that are a patch-work of evergreens here and deciduous growth over there. A surviving sister of the Mohican State Forest fire tower lives along this trail and points our way to Ash Cave which we encounter from the top.

The forest floor and the little creek on our left simply disappear over the precipice and we peer down upon the human ants squirming on the sandy surface of that venue, the southern most in the Hocking Hills State Park.

I shudder as I stand back from the edge knowing there is nothing beneath this slice of firmament but the hollow of that cave nearly 100 feet straight down.

Down below, Sue and I pause for a photo near the water that plunges those 100 feet and marks the spot of our “engagement” here just over three months ago.

I feel a pleasant shiver at this very human experience while being very much aware of how truly miniscule a lifetime really is.