No. Seriously. A Loop is Supposed to be Round!

From yesterday you know that we are all fed, rested, and ready to go on our 45 minute bike ride with the kids. This is where, if we were in a dramatic movie, someone would take our picture and the camera would linger on the photo just a little too long to signify impending misery...if we were a sitcom set on an island the song would start with " a 45 miiiiinute ride " instead of "a threeeee hooooouuuuuur cruuuuuuuise."

We are all set. Brand new map in hand and we are ready to go. We drove the nine miles into the park to get to the trail head, we parked, and that's when I saw the ranger. I told him I had found what I guessed was a hash pipe and he could have it, thank you. We talked a while about where we found it and where we were heading. He seemed to think it may be a little tough for the youngin's but we assured him they were tough. He left and we set out. About a third of the way up the first hill the kids both started to say they were tired and could we go back. I probably said something like "no we are going to have a good time even if you hate it!" Or something equally logical.

All of our moods improved when we got to the top and the riding was easier. We rode through some of the prettiest country there was in the park. The trail is an old railroad line so it was nice level ride. A little bumpy at times, but mostly level. We traveled along for about twenty minutes when we came to a gate with a number on it. Look at the brand new bike map...same number! I must be related to Magellan! The gate didn't really make me concerned since the trails near our house have gates to go through all the time. On the map the trail ahead looked a little more questionable, two dotted lines that come close together near the creek...the other side leading back to the parking lot. I thought it might have been indicating that it wasn't to scale. On the actual trail it looked the same as what we were riding on already. I looked ahead on the map, cross a stream, back to the parking lot...no problem.

On we went. About ten more minutes into the ride I stopped everyone to show them a coyote track along with its very distinctive scat. (Scat is a polite way to say poop). It was pretty easy to see since there weren't any other tracks around...paying attention?...NO other tracks. No Nike , no bikes, no Buster Browns, no pogo sticks...Nothing! (This is where I, being leader of the family - with Sylvia's permission- should have let Mr. Sajak know that I wanted to buy a clue) I dismissed it since it was a "brand new" map! The bridge over the creek should be just over the rise or around the bend. Lets keep going kids!

Well, around the bend, over the hill, we didn't see a bridge...what we did see sounds like a great topic for tomorrow's blog!



OK, I was just kidding, but it was tempting. I just am worried that the longer posts are a little tough to take. We were talking about what we saw next on the trail.

We now continue with our blog already in progress...There on the perfect pristine dry dusty trail was a remarkable set of bear tracks. The conditions showed that the bear had just been there...and it was headed the same direction as us. We'll be fine lets keep going. Ten more minutes, twenty minutes, twenty five...lets check that brand new map again. Bridge should be around here somewhere...but now we're pretty high up over the creek. Wonder where it is?

We're not worried though, all we've done is travel on the path, we're not lost. Turn around and we go back to the truck. But both Sylvia and I thought it was boring to go where we'd already been, lets press on. By now we are determined to complete our mission, nay our quest, to find the mythical crossover to the path leading back to finish the "loop." Lets go kids, we're fine! Ten more minutes...nothing. Beautiful country, still no bridge. Starting to lose faith in this brand new map! Sylvia and I keep talking and decide that since the trail is now going back down toward the creek we must be getting closer to the crossover and we should keep going a little longer. Besides wouldn't we feel foolish going back and then finding out that we had just missed the crossover.

Then the trail curved to the left...toward the creek...promising! Problem was, the creek then curved to the left as well. (Dirty word!) This is when we encountered the legendary man-eating cows of the OK corral! Now when we first encountered them we didn't know they were from the OK corral and only Kristiana knew they were man eating. In fact she was certain!

We happened upon a small herd of cows that wanted to see these new people and one mama cow who wanted to make sure we didn't get too close to her calf. I, as a rule, am not terribly concerned about the aggressiveness of cows but I didn't really want to get between a calf and 2000 pounds of overprotectiveness. I picked up sticks to bang together and we walked our bikes through the herd and wandered away down the path to a fork. Drat! Up to now we had been pretty safe. Turn around and we would be fine. Now we had a decision to make. Left. And this is when we stumbled onto the OK corral. I am not kidding. There was a sign hanging over an ancient trailer that read OK corral. Outside the trailer was a slightly less ancient truck and from inside came and elderly gentleman who, let's say, had been sampling a bit of the drink. We startled him but he was kind enough to tell us everything he knew about getting back to Big Trees State Park. His information consisted of, "Where?"

He told us he didn't know any Big Trees park but we were about nine miles from highway 4 and Dorrington. I knew that couldn't be right since Dorrington was WAY past Big Trees and we couldn't be that far off. Could we? He pointed past his trailer and showed us a road. Civilization! OK, now we're good. Except the roads around here are about as complicated as a bowl of spaghetti and I wasn't really interested in getting lost on the roads. Problem was that it was starting to get dark at this point and it had taken us a really long time to get to this place so going back would put us into the middle of the forest at nightfall...and didn't we see bear tracks somewhere along that trail?

Well here is the amazing part of the story. We had decided that road at dark was better than forest at dark so off we went to try to find the highway and get back to the park entrance when a large truck came by. They were loggers on their way home when they saw us. They were amazed to see anyone this far off the beaten path and they stopped to ask if we were OK. "NO!!" We asked if they could help us by pointing out how to get to the trail back to Big Trees. They looked at each other, then us, then pointed to a crest way off in the distance. "Big Trees ends on the other side of that ridge! You are about 9 miles from anywhere." (OK, so even a little tipsy, the cattleman was right) They started to tell us how to get back to the highway, but then asked if we would accept a ride.

And that is how we ended up with our bikes piled high on the back of a logging truck, Sylvia with the two kids on her lap in the truck, and the assistant logger and I sitting atop the fire box in the back of the truck clinging for our lives to the roll bar behind the cab. It took us forty five minutes of driving through icy wind to get back to the main entrance of the park. When I pried my hands off the truck I tried to pay them a few bucks, but I am pretty sure when God sends angels to the rescue he tells them not to accept money. They left us and we were relatively safe. At least we knew where we were.


We were nine miles of road away from the truck which was still parked at the trail head. While I was preparing to go on my own and return with the truck, the girl at the gate came over and asked if we needed help. She radioed the ranger on duty and he asked if we were the family in the white truck. Yes. "Be right there."

He gave me a ride back to the truck and on the ride explained that we had ventured into some fairly dangerous territory. He told me that the pipe I had found may have been supplied by people who "farm" up where we were and they really don't appreciate unexpected visitors. He also said that we were lucky enough to have traveled a place that less than one percent of people in the area had ever been. He wasn't wrong, it was beautiful. He then told me the true nature of the mysterious "Loop" for our bike ride. Apparently the makers of this "Brand new" map decided that the loop they were talking about meant that we needed to ride to the gate and turn around and come back the way we had come. Well isn't that romantic!

So on this camp out we survived the King snakes, the rattlers, the coyote and bear (prints), we even survived the man-eating cows! But we almost didn't survive the brand new bike trail map whose "loop" very closely resembled a line...and I should know, I teach kindergarten!