The Rugged Oak Ridge

by NICK RAYMOND WHEATLEY

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We made Independence, KS at about dinnertime. After some fast food and a beer-run we meet our destination. Elk City Lake, and the Oak Ridge Hiking Trail. It's the best hiking trail in Kansas, they say. Come morning we would find out for ourselves. We made our Friday night camp at the spillway campground. This is right down the road from the trailhead and right below the damn. A quaint, good-looking campground with big trees and many camping sites. A perfect site for our base camp as long as the damn holds! The whole place was ours and as the sun settled we set up. Soon the tents were up, a fire was blazing and beer and bullshit flowed freely. We eventually had a few other campers scattered about, but with our campsite tucked far back amongst the oaks among side a winding creek they were safe enough away from our demented souls. Around the fire we sat sharing our stories and Vern’s whiskey. Nic carved a while on his hiking staff, and we all thoroughly enjoyed a warm October evening.

We woke very early Saturday morning to a thick blanket of fog. The fog was so thick that it condensed on the leaves above us and fell to the ground sounding like rain. Soon the camp stoves were humming and breakfast was served. We enjoyed our hot coffee and warm meals by headlamp bundled against the fog. Soon I was off on an outhouse foray. It was just light enough to see to walk but one could only see a good twenty yards in the fog. With headlamp strapped, walking staff and my roll of paper I was off. I did not know exactly where the restrooms were, I just knew they where out there somewhere. All of a sudden in a clearing of fog I see tents, somebody else's tents. I'm sure I woke those people up in the predawn hours of a very foggy day. I'm walking through their camp with a headlamp a big walking stick in one hand and a bag in the other (which held my T.P. but nobody else would have known that). I'm sure I was freaking these people out. So I quickly got the hell out of there and headed back to my own campsite. On the way back I stumble past the restrooms! With that deed done I stroll back to camp to a fury of activity. We all broke camp, readied our backpacks, and dressed for the trail. We still had to drop my car at the end of the trail and on the way back, drop off our cache of water and beer. We would use one of the low maintenance roads that access the trail for that. These last two chores should have been quickly and easily done. However we were faced with two major obstacles, dense fog and a big, dumb turkey. We shuttled my car out to the trail end (or what we thought was the end). It was only a few miles by road but in the early morning light and thick fog it was slow going. Then we came across the flock of geese and the turkey. They were grazing all over the side of the road and the Turkey would not get out of the way. He was good size and is going to make someone a good dinner come the holidays. That is if he doesn’t get run over first. Which he almost did since we passed him several times while we drove back and fourth trying to find the low maintenance road. We finally found the road, Nic got in a little 4 wheel drive action and we made a cache right off the trail, four gallons of water and a cold six pack of beer in a cooler. We didn't know exactly how far along the trail we where so we hoped that this cache would work out for us and be there when we needed it (and boy did it ever!).

Back at the trailhead we stretch, geared up, and walked away from civilization. Nine am Saturday morning we hit the trail. We signed in at the trailhead, walked a plank across a creek and immediately started our accent up into the wild.

That first hill really takes the wind out of you. It is all worth it however, when you get to the top and see the very big and very beautiful rock formations. This sets the tone for the next few miles as the trail meanders along with the lake on your left side far below and high mossy cliffs on your right. The cliffs were full of wide cracks and crevices and little hideaways where gnomes and trolls where sure to play. The tree cover was dense and the footing was very lose. We kept looking for the next blue blaze and kept praying for the next mile maker. It is pretty intimidating when you reach the first mile maker. You already climbed a big hill, and been stumbling across loss rock. Its only going to get hotter and your pack isn't getting any lighter, and there are so many more miles to go. The fog hid the lake from us for most of the morning. We would come out on a high bluff that usually made for a great vantage point for awesome views. This morning however we were looking down in to a sea of fog. You could pretend it to be clouds as if hiking on a high mountain pass. What was really cool was even though the water was hidden we could still hear the water foul. Hidden below the fog down below us was the sounds of hundreds of water foul calling, quacking, singing, and just making one hell of a racket. Our sight being handicapped as it were and only being able to hear this great number of water foul naturally doing its thing, gave us a very unique Oak Ridge Trail experience. Onward we traveled up and down and around. Stopping only for pictures on a bluff, or to suck air and water while not looking like we were in pain. Some miles we would hike as a group, the three of us close together single file down the trail, laughing, talking, and tripping over stones. Other times we would spread out, each walking at his chosen pace. Woods become very quiet at those times. You become alone and relaxed, your hiking staff is your only and best friend and walking is your life. Soon enough we would all be sitting on a boulder, sucking water, taking a few snap shots, and again fixing Vern's pack. Vern's pack was an ongoing challenge much like the trail itself. Straps would come loose, buckles would unbuckle, it even spontaneously combusted at one point. Luckily we were packing whiskey, and had it doused out quickly. So we would fix one thing or another on the pack and that would last a few miles then something else would go. It was all a challenge and all fun, such as life (I was hoping to get a backpack such as life metaphor in this story somewhere). Lunchtime, there is a God! Five miles or so of trail and a good three hours after starting we broke stride, broke down, and broke bread. It was the perfect picnic. The sun was out, the fog had lifted, and the temperature a perfect high sixties. We sat at a perfect rock ledge, which can now be called Table Rock and ate a leisurely lunch. As we ate and lounged we greeted hikers coming and going, all of them on cloud nine like us. It is also worth noting that there seemed to just as many females as well as males on the trail. There were also a wide variety of ages and at least one dog made our acquaintance. With lunch over it was back to work, or was this supposed to be fun? Ether way we marched, I don't really remember much of this section of trail. It must have been because of the dehydration or the bit of temporary insanity that came over me. We did start in on the meadow part of the trail. The going was easier although without the cover of trees the sun beat down on us like we were small frogs crossing a big road. The meadowlands also meant we were getting closer to our cache. We didn't know exactly where we were but we had already pass the Bakers bench and the first access road. The Bakers bench is a little wooden bench sitting on top of a very high ridge with a great view. Its dedicated to a lady named Baker but I have never heard the story behind it. It is in most peoples pictures though and we took a snapshot ourselves. The first access road is a hang out for the scouts so I would not advise camping around this area, for the lack of solitude. Speaking of wildlife we unfortunately did not see much of anything. A few lizards, a great big beautiful Copperhead snake skin, and water foul was about it. Oh yea and that circle of vultures that stayed above us the whole time. Why I don't know? We had also by this time started a tradition of taping our hiking staffs on the hard plastic mile marker signs whenever we would pass them. It was truly music to my ears when all of a sudden from up the trail there came a tap, tap! After the first few miles that was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life. At one point we were all kind of spread out again Nic up front and Vern at the back. I rounded a bend and there's Nic standing there looking back at me and smiling. I looked at him trying to figure what was up when he said those four little magical words, "we made the cache!" Yes! That was such a good thing. It did purpose a slight problem. It was much too early to make camp and now we had a lot of water and a cooler full of beer. Well we came to the conclusion that the beer must be drank right then and after refilling our water bottles in our packs the rest of the water and the cooler could stay there until tomorrow. So we just laid down right there in the grass, and drank our beer. We had our shoes off, just laying in the shade right there on the trail. Nobody walked by while we were there but if they had I'm sure the sight of us would keep them laughing for a long time to come. We lay there drinking for oh a good hour, and when our bottles were emptied we continued on. We were half way along the trail now a good seven miles. We figured on hiking a few more miles until about four thirty. Then we would find a good camping spot and call it a day. We hiked around some really cool looking dried up mud flats just off the river. We had actually left the lake shore section of trail a few miles back. We made our ninth mile and where now looking hard for a good camping site. Some parts of the trail had very large chunks of rock that broke away from the ridge to make a sort of rock island. We were eyeing up one of these formations when I notice another seemingly dried up creek bed I figured it to be a good camping spot where we could have a big fire, since it was kind of scary out there at night. So we hike down there to check out the creek bed and notice that it was pretty had ground. Hell it wasn't even ground at all it was asphalt! We were all stunned, "There's a damn old road running through these woods here"!? Perhaps we had too much beer or not enough water. But sure enough it was a road. So we walked it, it parallel the trail and so much nicer to the feet. We came across a day hiker and Vern asked him how far it was to end of the trail. The hiker replied "oh about, quarter of a mile". We were flabbergasted (if you can be that in the woods?). We knew there still were miles to go before the God forsaken end of the trial. So we hiked on up the way and sure enough there's the car. We were relieved but yet dumbfounded (and I know you can be that in the woods!) Come to find out we had parked the car at the 10 mile point of the trail and not the true end, five more miles on down the way. "Well whats done is done lets get the hell out of here and get some food and beer"! So we did and soon enough we were back at the spillway campsite. We ate and drank and felt work over, but it felt good. Then the sun settled and we had a little fire. The rest of the night was spent listening to the cub scouts run around, yelling and screaming like little heathens, that they are. Then went to bed early! The next morning was beautiful again and after breakfast we did a little day hiking, even climb the big rocks in the stream below the spillway. We were on the road again heading home by ten thirty. We ate a great lunch buffet along the way. Then with a full belly and open highway ahead, it was time again to plan the next great adventure.

Raymond.

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