Walking/Hiking Trails – Page 14

Groundhog’s Gift

Apparently, the groundhog predicted an early spring today. While I’ve never taken much stock in his thoughts, and the forecast for later this week suggests winter is tightly clinging to our part of the hemisphere, I’m delighted to accept the mid winter gift of sunshine and 60 degrees today.

Finding a park to enjoy it in was an incredibly popular challenge! After giving up on a few hopelessly crowded options, I wound up back down I-44 at Route 66. It was full of bikers and strolling families today, but the back trail was relatively quiet.

The thick sweater I wore, with the hope of not needing to drag along a coat, was almost too warm itself.

Brilliant sunshine, gentle winds, the splashing of the river, and the clatter of a woodpecker; a beautiful start to the wild ride that is February.

Mort Jacobs Park

Thirty one parks in thirty one days. I’m a little surprised I actually managed to pull it off. I thought I was going to have to start dividing some larger parks into multiple sections or extending my work day distance limits to get the rest in this week.

I’d never even heard of this one before, but it turned out to be only a couple of miles away. It’s set within a quiet neighborhood next to a school.

It was busy with squealing, giggling children on a modern new play structure, and several dog walkers.

One older gentleman seemed a little suspicious of me. He was friendly enough, but definitely wanted to know what I was doing there with a camera. He headed on around the trails with his dog after we talked a few minutes, but I noticed he didn’t leave until I did.

I wasn’t offended. It was nice really, to see that level of interest in looking out for the neighborhood. I’m always careful not to include any children in my pictures and to keep my distance, but he was going to make sure I did.

It’s really designed as a neighborhood park. There’s parking, but not a lot. Most of the paths lead directly off residential streets. An occasional car passes, slowly and carefully, but there’s no other traffic noise. It’s a peaceful, beautiful, wide open space to drift slowly into the weekend.

Frontier Park

The park grounds look amazing, even in depths of winter. This whole area was flooded last spring and had to be reseeded. The grass is thick and green and almost completely filled in again.

The river seems high and dark and swift under clouded skies, but it stays within its banks. Occasional splotches of thick mud on the pebbled trail seem far more than snow melt, and suggest some recent flooding.

The trail is level and gently curved. It’s lined every few yards with benches that focus on the river and various historical markers and the old train depot.

It’s mostly foot traffic. I don’t know that bicycles are actually forbidden, but with the Katy Trail only yards away across the grounds, it would be rather pointless.

And that, is a whole other story of its own. Our amazing Katy Trail, 237.7 miles of continuous biking and hiking from one end of the state to the other.

The park is peaceful and beautiful all on its own, but then leads right across the street to the old St Charles historic district.

History lives; in costumed characters for seasonal events, local shops, and old brick streets to wander after a stroll by the river.

Whether the presence of Grandma’s Cookies is a benefit or a stumbling block, I’ll leave to personal opinion.

St Stanislaus Recreation Area

This is the conservation area Truman Park is supposed to connect to. I’m still not sure where it does exactly, but it looks like an amazing place to explore and find out. I just need a lot more daylight and a little less snow.

It was mostly spitting when I pulled into the tiny dirt parking area, but grew heavier pretty quickly. A short paved loop wound through the trees and along a wide creek low creek.

The entrance to the wooden plank bridge was thick with mud. At the other end, dirt paths extended in three directions. They weren’t marked, and the trail map I picked up at the entrance was quickly getting too damp to use in the increasingly heavy snow.

I just stayed there for awhile, in a little cove bound by the creek, the trees, and the ridge ahead of me. The splash of the water and the breeze through the trees, muffled the traffic on the nearby road.

I wandered a little farther down the clearest path, listening to the call of the birds and the ratchet of a woodpecker.

The mud thickened as the creek widened.

Water marks high on the brush and trees hinted at the power behind it’s gentle splash.

I head back in, checking to see that I still have that soggy map, to plan a real hike through here.

Creve Coeur Lake

Creve Coeur is way more than after work stroll level, and will probably be the subject of future posts as well. For today, I wandered around the waterfall side of the path that circles the larger lake.

Although mostly frozen, there was a surprising amount of water still flowing and splashing over the stones of the waterfall.

The lake is grey and choppy. It seems high for this time of year. Gulls swoop and call over the open waters and a goose skims long and low just above the surface.

The shallow waters near the bridge are still and frozen on both sides of the trail.

I’m shocked by the number of people out of this icy day. Dog walkers and joggers, okay, but bicycles?

I love riding in this park, but the thought of the damp cold wind on their reddened faces doesn’t even sound fun today.

I’ll take my quiet walk for now, stopping for shot of an interesting tree or a soaring birds, rubbing my frozen fingers, and shrugging deeper into my puffy down coat.

Fort Belle Fontaine

Peek-a-boo sunshine, teasing like a giggling child, turns the prairie trail into silty mush. Birds call and rustle in the brush, but dart away before they can hardly be seen. A woodpecker taunts us from the top of a wooden electric pole, hiding within the wires and posts.

Beautiful WPA structures, including the stunning grand staircase, overlook the Missouri River. Ice still lingers on the shaded stone of the spiraled steps as I creep down each level. I think a few times, I should stop; just get some river pictures from where I am and move back into the sunshine.

I’m so glad when I reach the base, that I did it. The rush of the river and the call of the seagulls are practically all that breaks the stillness.

Even the voices of other hikers and the occasional drone of a far away airplane seem muted.

The gulls dart and swoop over the water, then dive to skim the surface. Two robins peck at a pile of damp leaves, so intent they barely seem to notice I’m there.

The trail whispers the stories of its decades of history, then pauses to allow me to sketch my own line.

Grant’s Trail

Saturday busy and not much time, but I managed a short walk on a section of Grant’s Trail. It’s paved and mostly level, a wonderful bike trail I’ve been on many times before in the summer.

It’s blustery cold under the thickly clouded skies, but it’s also one of the most active trail I’ve seen this month. Although hardly crowded, there are multiple bravely layered joggers, some excited dogs walking their somewhat less enthusiastic humans, and even a couple of bikes.

The Tesshire Drive section I’m on, is lined by ball fields and apartment buildings, with several footpaths leading onto the trail.

Wooded stretches cut the winds and echo with the chorus of birds. Side trails lead to museums and parks to explore on another day.

Earth City Levee Trail

Friday tired, and hungry too, since I forgot my lunch today. I’m tempted to cut this short, but once I’m outside and moving, I love being out in the thick damp air and melting snow.

One side of the trail is part of the Riverwoods loop, but across the road it stretches across the river bottoms and along the railroad to highway 370.

Most of the snow has melted from the path. Puddled reflections of trees and low thick clouds line the pavement. It’s surprisingly quiet early in my walk. The occasional ding of construction equipment and the whistle and swish of a train are all I really hear until I’m closer to the highway roar.

There’s a bike lane now! I’ve crossed this bridge many times on my bike, into St Charles and onto the Katy Trail. Much as I love the easy access, it’s always been faintly terrifying. This is going to be amazing!

Dusk falling fast in the foggy air, I’m heading home for dinner and dry socks and summer biking dreams.

Tiemeyer Park

A quick cold walk today, in the rapidly thickening snow. It’s been coming and going all day today. Huge fluffy crystals floated past my classroom windows this morning. They slid into sleety pellets for awhile, then melted away, before starting over again.

By the time I left the building, it was all snow again and a loose slushy pile covered my windshield.

The beautifully landscaped pond is the centerpiece of the park. Intersecting paved trails crisscross the grounds between playgrounds and pavilions and a stately war memorial.

The snow is thickening, my boots are leaking, and my fingers are beginning to freeze. I’ll end this ramble early tonight, and huddle in for a book and a bowl of chili, to plan my next trip here.

Truman Park

I wasn’t too sure about this one when I first turned in. I’d never heard of it before. I just found it on “parks near me” on the GPS. I was pretty sure the GPS had no idea what it was talking about at first. It directed me down what looked like an abandoned alley alongside a strip mall.

But then the alley opened up into wide fields and a nearly frozen pond. A fountain splashed in in the remaining open water and a greenway trail lead off into the woods.

It’s mostly a neighborhood trail at first, edged on both sides by housing areas and the drone of highway traffic. But it’s pretty and restful and filled with the chirp of woodland birds, and for a time, a distant honking of geese.

The pavement ends abruptly, and narrow leaf covered nature trail winds along the edge of a ridge and then farther back into the woods.

Carefully placed fallen logs outline parts of the trail. Red blazes on trees and rustic signs guide the way in between.

I’m not really sure where all it goes. I walked and took pictures and paused for the scolding of a startled explosion of birds from a brush pile. They took to the trees to chirp and flutter their displeasure at me. Only the occasional flash of red from a pair of cardinals in the mix was visible for more than a second.

A slushy mess is coming in tonight. The clouds are thickening, it’s already growing dusky, and I have a long walk to return to the truck. I have to turn back for this trip and save the rest of the exploration for the next time.