I have spent a few days exploring earthtouch, and thought I’d share my adventures with all of you. Firstly, my wife Renee was right. You see, my intent was to go out and spend three full days and nights. As I was preparing Sunday night she reminded me that perhaps I had lost my mind as I was not as young as I used to be! As it turns out, she was indeed right, after two full days I was beat and decided to come home for a rest day before finishing my explorations.
I covered a lot of ground and tried to get a sense of the place away from the main trails. Not sure I did that justice... so much more waiting to be discovered! There is some amazing diversity and some great stories to be told about nature’s ability to heal herself and carry on after humans have made a dramatic impact on the land.
My original plan was to go out with only my knife. After my wife’s chiding, and realizing the weather report was calling for quite a bit of rain including thunderstorms, I figured there was no need to push the limits so I threw together a backpack. A tarp, some basic fire starting supplies, a fleece jacket, map and compass, a pen, some toilet paper, two empty tin cans, a bit or cordage, a garbage bag, my knife on my hip, two cans of soup and some trail mix. My pack weighed 15 pounds, 6 of which was the two quarts of water in the side pouches.
I started off from the cabin heading east and then south. I learned quickly that the scale of things is not always what they seem, not to take things for granted and check my compass often. As I’m making my way up a ridgeline that had been completely timbered within the last 10 - 20 years of so, I heard an ATV come barreling up behind me and tailed off within view about 100 yards away, then come back the same way minutes later. I was astonished because it felt like he had come directly from where I was about 10 minutes prior, and I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed such a trail. After doing some investigating I discovered it was Peacock road and I would have had no idea how close I was to the road at that moment had he not come by. Makes me wonder now in hindsight, how many other things I was so close to without any idea.
I explored to the east a bit and found some nice trails of the beaten path and came across a small clearing in the middle of the woods with two nice benches and a plaque noting that they were here in appreciation for the English Family Trust. After exploring two little valleys I took a tangent due west along some deep ravines until I hit a creek heading south. Along the banks of this creek was one of the largest Beech trees I had ever seen, and without a single scawl of graffiti! I estimate it to be about 9-10 feet in circumference. I knew that this creek had to eventually flow into the creek that crosses the main Peacock trail we travel to get between properties. So I followed it and discovered a trail along it’s course. Once in a while I’d notice some old vehicle tracks, which I’m pretty sure were dirt bike, not ATV. Then down in the floodplains of this creek there were 2 very bright neon signs posted on a tree from T & R products. One was an arrow, and the other imploring readers not to smoke in the woods. The strange thing was along this trail there were no other such signs. I think the northern part of this trail to be on earthtouch property as I had not seen the meadows shown on the map to the west of this boundary. I am curious where the trail leads heading north. Hmm…
This creek then turns east and indeed brought me to the exact spot I knew, where Peacock road crossed it at the Trail Tree. A “Trail Tree” you ask? Well the theory is that “L” shape bends in trees rarely happen on their own, so older trees with such a shape are theorized to be trail markers made my natives. The theory goes they would bend them using stakes and cordage along trails to mark or point towards important or interesting features. “Similar to road signs today. This tree points directly up to the top of the hill where the theorized Indian signal mound is located. Here’s a picture of it I took last week. It's a giant sugar maple about 10 feet in circumfrence.
Up until this point I had been traveling in a well canopied, fairly open forest. Instead of following the main trail up to the top I went east into a meadow full of butterflies! I saw in one shot probably 30-40 big butterflies, at least 4 different species. They were ding their butterfly thing from plant to plant, then a few would soar up high playing and chasing, before coming back down to the palnts. Quite entertaining. I found a fallen tulip tree with plenty of dry twigs, so I grabbed a handful and put them in my pack, figured I better while I can before it starts raining. I then headed up a very steep hill into the fall-out zone from the sand pit mine. Lots of scrubby trees and bushes, and some of the plumpest, sweetest berries I have ever tasted! I decided to try to get over to the hill on the south property by a different route than normal. So I worked east and south the best I could, but simply could not find a way through the thickets. I ran into dead end upon dead end where the vegetation was so thick and prickly I simply couldn’t move forward any more and had to retreat. Realizing I was losing daylight and getting quite tired I went back down the hill, past the trail tree, collected some water from the creek in the two cans I packed, and headed north along a fence line until I made it up on a ridge. I set up camp for the night. Rigged my tarp, started a fire, boiled the water using two forked sticks to maneuver the cans, had some soup, and called it a night.
If you’ve ever had a pack of coyotes wake you up in the middle of the night, then you know how unsettling that can be! It’s a mix between laughing and screaming coming from off in the distance that can kinda make the hair stand up on the back of your neck for a moment. Of course once I realized what it was, I was just fascinated. They decided to serenade me for only a few moments and that was it. It wasn’t long before the Great Horned owl one ridge over began talking. “Hoo, hoo”! I considered doing my Barred Owl call to see if I could convince him to come closer…. Then I realized no Barred Owl with any sense would make a peep after hearing a Great Horned so close, so I just fell back asleep, the throaty call of the woodsy insects up in the trees lulling me back to sleep. Funny thing, those insects are really loud, and you don’t pay them much attention until they shut up after hearing (and feeling) the rolling thunder go by! The storm never hit me directly, just some wind and rain.
The next morning I realized I wasn’t far from my car where I had extra water stashed, so I decided to go get it. Then I decided my legs were really tired, so instead of walking to the southern section I’d just drive over and park there, so at least my emergency water wouldn’t be as as far of a walk. A good choice to start the day.... but it wouldn't last.
So I parked near the memorial gardens and headed west to explore that corridor. I aimed along the field to enter the woods in the middle. I found a small clearing and ducked into the trees headed what I thought was west. It was at this point that I made a tactical error I would pay for. I neglected to check my compass right then. A short way I discovered a shed made of plywood and some wooden steps nailed up a tree. My initial thought was a playground, then I quickly realized it was a deer hunting kill zone, just on the north side of a fenceline. I thought it must be off earthtouch property to the north and I had strayed off course to the north. (Hindsight, I’m pretty sure it’s on property…. Maybe set up by our contracted hunters?) That being my thinking, I decided to pull out my compass and head a bit southwest.
I soon entered a new growth forest where the trees were very tightly packed together, with nothing in sight being more than wrist size in diameter. I named it twizzle stick forest, because half of the trees here had vines on them that gave the trunk that grooved twisting look. It became very thick and scrubby, with a dense canopy only 10 feet overhead. The rain from the day before, the high humidity, and the overcast drizzly conditions made me feel as if I were in some sort of dark jungle. Travelling in any direction at will was most difficult, so I found myself taking what game trails I could find…. Which kept pointing southwest. I also discovered that because of the conditions, my intuition on which direction I was heading was proved wrong time and again by the compass. Along the way there were these occasional fantastic little openings in the canopy, maybe 10 feet wide, where the light shone through, and the space seemed very green and tranquil. A nice change of pace after trudging through a thick dark featureless place. I found myself on several occasions plopping down in one of these small clearings to catch my breath, not sure I wanted to get up and trudge on. Eventually the trail began to widen, and fork in a few places, the whole experience of this morning was reminding me of some sort of mythical fairy tale Robin Hood era experience. Then it crossed a creek where there was a metal grate for a bridge. A short distance further the trail leveled out, went past a wooden camo shed…. Then I heard a rooster! Moments later I saw something else, and upon further investigation from a distance I realized it was a trailer, then a cabin. I crept a bit closer to see the cabin was a chicken coop and a nicer looking house across the way. I was way off course! After some intense scrutiny of the map, the compass, and my meanderings thus far, I came to the conclusion I had in fact strayed south.. significatly and unintentionally. I figured better to backtrack, then to hang around and find out who owned the chickens. So I began to work my way east and north, eventually and thankfully entering a more mature woodland with room to maneuver and finally popped into the prairie not far from where i had started hours ago.
I then found the trail leading directly west from the memorial gardens, which travels the length of the northern boundary of this parcel. I saw several of the giant ant mounds the Alliance guys were referring to. Ant mounds 3 feet across and two feet high, with ants scurrying every which way almost seems to exotic to see here in Ohio, then to realize they have an intriguing symbiosis with only one species of caterpillar is just crazy! (Jim, can you resend me the details on that, I seemed to have misplaced it, thanks!) I walked all the way to the top edge of the far western meadow. Quite a cool place! Feels a bit like an African plain, with small groves of short trees, open grasses etc. I noticed what appeared to be a towering Oak tree just inside the woods along the entry path, and so on my travels around this space I decided in duck into the woods to take a look. I was in a very thickly brushy area, and then suddenly the ground was bare of all vegetation. A bit further on I found an old, what looked like a trough. So maybe farmers had pigs or something here that had beaten down the undergrowth. The trees all looked healthy…. Then I saw it. The largest Oak I can ever recall seeing, easily 14 feet in circumference. This grandfather had been here a very long time! I sat down against his trunk for quite a while, pondering the stories he could tell, wondering why he was left to grow, when others around of his age were no longer here to tell their stories. I recalled the leatherbound book in the cabin dedicated to Lou, and the first line on the first page suggests we …”consult the trees…”. I can’t fathom a more appropriate tree to consult in these woods than this grandfather. I will return soon to get pictures.
It was upon standing and departing this spot I realized Renee was right, and I was indeed not as young as I used to be. For the past 2 days, a short rest would give me back the energy I needed. As I walked away from this tree after a longer than usual rest, I realized I was just plumb tired! Alas, my journey today was not over.
Upon reaching the prairie I still had several areas I wanted to explore. One was the pond I had seen on the map to the northwest of the mound area, up against the tree line. After slicing through the tall meadow I came to the ridge line overlooking the pond. It looked small down there and very rusty colored, with a seep coming out 
from the rocks. Knowing at this point I was going home to rest I decided to push myself and drop down in there it explore it. So down I went. Thankfully I had my walking stick to probe the unseen footing and support me against gravity. The pond itself was bordered by cattail and was plentiful with dragonflies over it’s surface. The water was clear, albeit very orangish in color and seemed devoid of the usual life. No frogs, turtles or fish could I find. It is clearly a manmade pond, perhaps with residual run-off from the mining?
Then I turned and looked at where I had just come from. I was outright startled at how large and perfect of a natural amphitheater I was at the bottom of! It is a nearly perfect 180 degree portion of a sphere, with bowl edges that rise steeply 150 – 200 feet. An amazing place built by man, to do something spectacular to connect people with the earth…. Ah, but those ideas are a different story to be tackled another day. From here I walked along the treeline and up a fantastic ridgeline just to the west of the mound area, back towards Bancroft. I called it a day once back to my car, another full day of non-stop hiking, bushwalking, crawling, and otherwise exploring. I needed a good nights rest and a recovery day to tackle my next objective, the beaver pond area.
I returned after a full days rest, ready to explore. It’s a good thing I rested, because today’s adventure was going to be a whopper! I threw my camera in the trunk in case I saw something I could take some good pictures of, some of which you'll see here. After parking my car along Peacock road, up near Bancroft, I walked the prairie headed straight back down along the road headed for the treeline to the south. It was very quickly obvious that today was hotter and much more humid than yesterday. Just at the bottom of hill near the treeline, not very far east of the road, I discovered a literal forest of cattalils! I have never seen so many cattails in one place in my life. The cool thing was that they weren’t living in water, the ground was squishy, but completely passable, even after the recent rains,without getting your shoes submerged. It has the “lost in a cornfield” feel to it, but with cattails. I discovered more rocks and seepages, probably remnants of the mining, to which the cattails are thriving in.
I begin to dip in and out of the woods for a short distance, then fully committed my self to finding the inlet area of the beaver pond, and so began to follow a creek bed in that direction. There were some areas that were intensely thick and sucked out energy trying to pick my way through. I discovered that the inlet area of the north end of the beaver pond is actually not just a simple creek. There are two separate and distinct “ponds” created by beaver dams upstream of the main body of water. They beavers are activity working on these dams, throwing mud on them, with clear and well used slides, trails, and “Venetian” style swim-ways. It is quite fascinating to explore, albeit treacherous ground to cover. Several time I found myself knee-deep in water and muck, or balancing on the edges of the dams to avoid the thickets on the solid ground. Frogs galore jumping in all directions at each step!
Having decided I really wanted to reach their lodge on the northern shore of the lower lake, once I hit the main body of water I went to higher ground on the east and began to pick my way through the thickets towards the beaver lodge. Let me say this, beaver are industrious and clever, and beavers are not stupid. Their lodge is located where it is for a very good reason…. It’s nearly impossible to reach by land! The only game trails through these thickets are from the beavers themselves, and it seems not even the deer are interested in passing through here. The problem for me was a beaver is only 20 pounds at best, and about 6 inches high. This meant I spent the better part of what I guess was an hour or two, on my hands and knees or belly crawling through briars and thickets. There were times where in order to proceed, I had to reach my knife and cut some vines or brambles free in order to move forward. It was not raining, but to grab my shirt, I would have never known. Funny, what probably was the shortest distance I had traveled in any two hours of the past several days, turned out to be the most exhausting. However I did eventually make it to the beaver lodge. It is quite sizable, and thought the main home has been in place for quite some time, there was some very recently downed pieces floating nearby. I was amazed at how adept they were at not being detected… though in all honesty, I was more intent on moving than stealth. Perhaps the whole family was holed up just underfoot, enjoying a laugh at how the silly human crawled through the brush for so long?
As I sat there by the lake I pondered my options. I wanted to go east to explore a bit more and pop on the prairie just south of the mound area. However that required another hour or so of brutal travel through the unexplored undergrowth to get there. I could backtrack and come in from another direction, but frankly that didn’t appeal to me either. Down lake to the east looked very promising, but how to get there? So I decided to swim for it. I doubled checked all the Zip-lock bags, tied everything up in the trash bag, tightened down the pack straps and waded in. I was 
actually concerned about swimming with a back pack, but as it turned out, it proved quite helpful. The tied up trash bag turned out to make a great float, and instead of expending effort to stay on top of the water, I could concentrate all my efforts in moving forward. I thought my walking stick might work for breast stroke, when in fact it was best used out in front as a modified two-handed doggy paddle. Who knew? I reached the far eastern end of the lake, and found a log that provided perfect exit without getting muddy feet. Alas my shoes came untied.
Here is the best part of the story… So I bent over to tie my shoes, with my back to the pond. Suddenly and without warning a very loud “KA-THUMP” splash happens out in the middle of the pond that actually scares me for just a moment and makes my heart skip a beat. A moment later I realize it was grandfather beaver giving me a good riddance tail slap, and a reminder that it is his pond! I never saw him, but man did he make his presence known.
From there I headed east back out into the prairie where I find another little pond, man made, but in good health. At the western edge of this pond is a huge young willow forest that is fascinating, reminiscence of bamboo groves. It is slowly spreading out into the prairie flats just to the west, fading from small willow shoots into tall grass. It is a sizable very flat grassland up against the tree line, that simply is not visible from atop the hill. From here I traveled straight uphill towards the mound area.
Around the south east of the mound area trees is a startling steep drop into a small pond up against the forest there. It is really quite an astounding drop, with a great view of the distant hills. Just to the south is a nice ridgeline that terminates up against the trees in a plateau that has great potential for something unique.
Remember those coyote I told you about earlier? Well, after circling completely around the woods, I was taking Bancroft road west, when I noticed a set of tracks on the road, and upon further inspection I realized it was a coyote, probably traveling by in the last few days. Could it be a dog? Nope, and here’s why; the negative space between a coyote’s pads form an “X”. Dogs don’t. Dog tracks are much more circular, these were oblong. Tame dogs rarely travel in a straight line, they are almost always weaving back and forth smelling and exploring. They have no need to conserve energy. This guy was trotting in a straight line down the softest side of the road. (The knife is there for size reference)
It was getting late so I made a little fire and cooked up some soup. Night time was descending, so I decided to stay around and watch the sunset. I could tell you about it, but what’s the point…. These unaltered pictures all taken within a half hour of each other say it all.
