It’s a drive I can do almost on remote; St Louis to Springfield, and back again. I’ve explored a lot of stops along the way. I’ve noticed the signs for Maramec Spring, but somehow never pulled off to visit.
It’s privately owned, with a five dollar per car admission fee. Built on the grounds of the 1800s Maramec Iron Works, it’s centered by amazing ruins to explore.
A beautiful paved trail through the woods circles the silently bubbling spring. The spring is deep below the surface, visible only in constant stirring of the water rings.
The trail winds out along hatchery pools, teeming with tiny fish.
On a midweek September morning, the park is busier than I expected, almost exclusively with the fishermen those pools cater to.
They’re wonderful rambling companions, I discovered. They’re rooted to their chosen spot and barely make a sound. They seemed happy to tolerate my own exploration, as long as I kept my own silence and a respectful distance from their efforts.
Two trails skirt either side of the Meremac River. On the west, the trail is narrow and rocky, twisting through vegetation still thick with summer wildflowers.
It ends at a swinging bridge, with beautiful wide open views of the river.
Across the bridge, the east side trail is wide and level and graveled. It forms the access point for most of the anglers I see.
Off the trail, I wander back toward the museum and my truck, relishing the cool breezes, the splash of the water, and the hum of insects and birds, before returning to the noisy chaos of I-44.
Rambling ... 