Indiana has a surprising variety of hiking trails; you can follow well-marked paths, take routes through historic districts or explore remote wilderness. How do I know? I spent last summer locating 100 trails, hiking them, measuring the distance and taking notes for a hiking guide.
Despite a fear of snakes, I walked about 115 miles, most of it alone. If I can do this, almost anyone can. . .alone or with friends. It helps if you can walk, but even that’s not required: Some trails that I write about in my book, "Hiking Indiana" (published in September by Human Kinetics, Champaign, Ill.), are wheelchair-accessible.
Before I signed a contract to write this guide, I was a city walker, not a hiker. Oh, I’d gone mushroom hunting with my father at the age of 5; crawled up Indiana’s sand dunes with my sister; and walked miles in saddle shoes and ankle socks as a student in Valparaiso, Greencastle, Bloomington, and Indianapolis. But that wasn’t hiking; it was my way of going somewhere. Hiking was. . .what unusual people did, in England’s Lake District, when stalking wildlife in Kenya or exploring the exotic landscapes of Nepal. Hiking required special clothing or, at least, expensive boots, a handsome safari jacket and, certainly, khaki shorts.
So I began the research by hiking the Purdue University Tree Trails, a route that follows sidewalks, where all the trees are labeled. As the summer evolved, I bought good boots and began to look and feel like a hiker; but I realized the book would be a hiking guide for real people, not athletes.
Finding interesting routes was never a problem. The trails I chose ran behind sand dunes, curved through shady forests, passed marshes bordered with emergent plants, skirted ponds where frogs croaked, descended into rock-filled canyons and traversed meadows where butterflies flitted among wildflowers. I also encountered five snakes; four of them quickly slithered away from me, and the fifth just lay there, looking half dead.
Across the state, the advancing-receding action of massive glaciers eroded various land forms, creating unique features, even leaving some rugged areas unglaciated. In the northwest, the earlier, larger Lake Chicago helped form the distinctive Duneland topography. Evidence of early marine creatures can be found, if you know what to look for: crinoids at Pine Hills Nature Preserve; geodes in the Charles Deam Wilderness; and fossils in the bedrock at Falls of the Ohio River (now a state park).
Undammed riverside trails along the upper Wabash River are lush with foliage--and bird life. Turtles, squirrels, chipmunks and deer can be seen on many trails. Early one morning, in Harmonie State Park, I watched a doe and a pair of young fawns arise from a grassy nesting place.
Just as "Hiking Indiana" goes beyond hiking to provide travel information about natural areas, the 100 trail descriptions go beyond directions and measurements to give readers information about the plants, animals and rock formations they might encounter, whether it’s the tall, spiky heads of an angelica plant or a description of a painted turtle, or exposed limestone bedrock in a creek bed.
At the Indiana Dunes (both the National Lakeshore and State Park), you’ll find black oak savannahs, many sedges and grasses, and water lilies that bloom on quiet ponds. Beech, hickory, ash, maple and tulip trees grow in the upper Wabash Valley. Unusual mushrooms grow in the remote wilderness of southeastern Monroe County. And in the Lower Wabash Valley, the muddy river bottomland is flanked with sycamore, hickory, pecan and shell nut hickory trees. What you’ll see depends on the season. Walk beside a bubbling creek in the spring (late April or early May) and you’ll find pink and white dogwood blossoms, violets, marsh marigolds and May apples.
"Hiking Indiana" is one of a series of books that includes "Hiking Missouri," "Hiking Michigan," "Hiking Illinois," among other titles. Introductory chapters provide background, and area information pages include directions to the parks. Park maps and trail maps show locations of roads, parking lots, trails, lodges, picnic grounds, restrooms . . . useful in planning. Cautions alert readers to certain conditions: a nature preserve overrun with mosquitoes, an absence of drinking water, a section of trail that follows a narrow rock ledge.
On most trails, I encountered no other people. Segments of the Knobstone Trail (I hiked these within the Jackson-Washington State Forest) are so remote that hikers are warned to stay put if they’re lost . . . so officials can find them. Patoka Lake Recreation Area--a vast region managed by the Department of Natural Resources--has a fascinating 1,000-acre peninsula that can be explored only on foot.
The Hoosier National Forest has great variety, from the unusual rock formations and plant species at Hemlock Cliffs to the paved-road, built-up campgrounds at Hardin Ridge, to the ancient trees along the Pioneer Mothers’ Trail.
Yet, some trails follow routes through urban/historic areas in Elkhart, Fort Wayne, Delphi, Columbus, Madison and Vincennes. The Bluffton River Greenway runs from town center along the river to Ouabache State Park. The trails in Spring Mill State Park pass early buildings that resemble a village. Hike through other areas, and you’ll find mixtures, like the nature preserve, national monument, historic buildings and scenic lake that comprise the Lincoln Parks (Lincoln Boyhood National Monument and Lincoln State Park). Wherever you go, it’s sure to be interesting.