On the Wobegon Trail

It was a beautiful day for biking–sunny with a light breeze, warm but not too hot or humid.  We headed for the Lake Wobegon Regional Bike Trail, not far from our house.  It is the Lake Wobegon of Garrison Keillor’s storytelling on A Prairie Home Companion radio show–where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.”  Even though we’re transplants, I like to think we fit in.  Manned with sunscreen, water, homemade granola bars, and the camera, we set off on our journey.

The Wobegon trail is 46 miles from St. Joseph to Osakis on an old railroad line.  It winds through areas of prairie, rolling farm land, woods, small towns, and lakes.  We saw sheep and cattle, including the little Black Angus calf and his mama.  I tried to get him to turn my way, but he was probably looking at frogs or something much more interesting.

We saw prairie grasses and wildflowers including Wood Anemone, Yarrow, Wild Rose, and Prairie Phlox.  Yellow Goatsbeard was abundant along the trail–some in their morning bloom of yellow, others in their dramatic dandelion-like seed heads.

Shimmering stands of ferns carpeted the floor of a wet, wooded area.

I saw a giant of a plant that stopped me in my tracks!  It was six or seven feet tall with a dill-looking flower and huge leaves.  I identified it as Cow Parsnip, a member of the Parsley Family.

When we got to an open area again, Chris spotted the gray-brown shapes I was hoping we would see.  Picking their way through a corn field was a Sandhill Crane and her chick.  As I was getting pictures of these two, we heard the rolling, low bugle call of two others as they flew overhead.  The mama and her chick walked between the field and a grassy area.  All of a sudden they were dive-bombed by a red-winged blackbird.  Mama crane ducked her head then waited for her chick to catch up to her as the blackbird flew away.  Then they calmly resumed their walk.

We passed a number of small lakes, streams, and wetlands, then rode between Middle and Lower Spunk lakes.  Middle Spunk has a swimming beach and many homes surrounding it.  Lower Spunk has a fishing dock, public water access, and more wild area.  A red-winged blackbird greeted us from his perch when we walked out on the dock.

The Yellow Pond Lilies were beginning to bloom from their floating homes.  The pencil-thin water weeds that grew around the lilies threw shadows that zigged and zagged darkly on the wavy water, looking like an abstract painting.

At about mile 12 or 13 of the Wobegon trail, we encountered one of the highlights of the trip–a Showy Lady’s Slipper–the State flower of Minnesota.  It is a type of orchid that grows very slowly, taking up to 16 years until first flowering and is very long-lived–50 to 100 years.  Lady’s Slippers have been protected in Minnesota since 1925, as they are a rare find.

After seeing the Lady’s Slipper, we turned around to head back.  It was afternoon by then, and the sun was warm.  The breeze of gliding along the path felt good.  I don’t know if it was the weather or the air rushing through my nose, but I noticed so many scents.  It was like, when biking you go through the scents, instead of the scent wafting to you.  Maybe it smells stronger that way.  I noticed the wild rose sweetness, the heady hay smell of alfalfa and sweet clover, the damp coolness of the woods, and a brief acrid smell of skunk.  I smelled tobacco when a boy around the age of twelve?! rode by and fresh, clean soap when a tall man glided past us.  The lake smelled fishy and weedy like a lake should, and the pasture like cows and manure.

And the sounds seemed amplified and sweet.  Many different bird songs serenaded us–the chatter of wrens and the stark call of the pileated woodpecker.  At one point I realized how quiet it was except for the birds.  Then we rolled by a grove of poplars, and they loudly cheered me onward with their quivering leaf ensemble.  (My leg muscles needed a little encouragement by that time.)

So what piqued our senses?  Nature herself?  Was it my quest to find good nature pictures to share?  Or was it the opportunity to be away from the normal daily drone of tv, radio, computers, and phones?  Perhaps our senses are bombarded by our man-made surroundings–and it is not what our bodies and souls need.  So we can take wisdom from the Sandhill Crane–duck our heads, stop and re-group with our loved ones (and Nature), and calmly walk on.