Hiking in the Shawnee National Forest
It was difficult to get out of the city for most of the pandemic. In September, Nicole and I rented a car and drove to Herod, IL to spend a weekend camping and hiking in the Shawnee National Forest.
We set up camp at a remote location called Camp Cadee, where the only other campers were two motorcyclists who we quickly befriended. With only their bikes, hammock tents, and backpacks, they’d traveled hundreds of miles before settling here for the weekend. They shared with us some of their favorite destinations, spoke of nights spent in the desert cold, places they insisted we had to see next. I had my daily yoga practice in a clearing near the trees at dusk, with a warm breeze that felt perfectly refreshing.
The next morning we set out on our day of hiking. First it was the Garden of the Gods—a short, 2-mile hike on even terrain, with towering rock formations and an incredible view over the forest at the center of the trail. We finished the loop through the woods and circled back to the rocks to eat an early lunch, barefoot, of course. Nicole climbed some of the formations while I went scouting for plant species. I found some wild growing opuntia and was both extremely excited and SO amazed at how they could survive there—thinking this was a true Southwestern cactus. Later I learned that many opuntia have adapted to endure the harsh winters of the Midwest, and are even happy enough to flower in the winter. Imagine that—adapting to grow and thrive in your circumstances, even if you’re not where you thought you would be.
Our next hike was 12.6 miles, climbing over rocks and uphill terrain, dodging horse manure and mud, until we reached Whiskey Cave. The view was worth it. We passed groups of horseback riders, often helping each other figure out where to go, since we were all lost, it seemed. Nicole is a seasoned hiker, and although I made it through most of the trail surprisingly well after having been out of hiking for so long, I struggled on the last couple of miles. My back was hurting, and I didn’t own hiking shoes, which took a toll on my ankles. But—we made it. We rewarded ourselves with ice cream floats afterwards, then went back to the campsite for a late dinner—veggie dogs on the grill, followed by s’mores. I ended the night with some restorative yoga and an early bedtime.
The next morning I went for a walk down a winding dirt road, through canopies of trees and past fields of wildflowers. I sang at the top of my lungs for the first time in a very long time—there was no one around but me.
When it was time to leave, our motorcycle friends were headed out, too; off to Nashville to do some more exploring. I was sad to go, but in desperate need of a shower and a good night’s sleep in a real bed.
I love the outdoors, but until this trip I hadn’t been able to really spend time exploring in a while. It was a great experience to spend time reconnecting with a part of myself that was once so central to who I am. Like many of us, this pandemic has prompted an evaluation of my life: what’s working for me, and what isn’t. Access to nature is really imperative. I’m making some changes to my life to align with that value. Starting with a new pair of hiking boots.
