Trip Report: Shades State Park Back Pack Trail, West Central Indiana

In the wake of my abandoned attempt to hike the Tecumseh Trail, I took a day off to evaluate and review the feedback offered here on the blog, as well as in the Indiana Backpackers, Backpacking, and Hammock Forums groups over on Facebook. Several of the Indiana Backpacker members recommended Shades State Park as a worthy destination to overcome my difficulty of sleeping through the night.

I loaded up the pack to 28 pounds, about 13 pounds lighter than the Tecumseh hike starting weight. I omitted my water bladder since potable water is ensured at the backpack camp. I took two bottles, along with my Sawyer Squeeze filter. I really only needed one bottle and the Sawyer. (Remember than next time!) My other obvious savings was in food weight... and, as I discovered later on, I could have cut that back further as well.

I arrived at the park and after figuring out the logistics of getting registered to use the back pack campground, I was on my way. I have to say that the trail is very inviting right from the get go, and the canopy of the forest is thick enough to have warded off a lot of the heat of the day. Unfortunately, the tradeoff is that there was very little wind. The high, according to the historical data from Weather Underground was measured at nearby New Market, Indiana as 92.7... but I never really felt that except in the very few open areas on the hike.

My first sense of confusion arose when the trail marked Campground took off to the left. Earlier, the signage said  to stay right for the backpack camp, so I continued right.

It was about this time that I caught my first glimpse of a man in the woods. He was slowly walking up to the trail, and while he gave me a smile, he said nothing. I figured he had went off trail for a nature call, so I went on. I'd see him again later.

As I continued, I felt something was wrong - all the signs had trail numbers, but no mention of the backpack camp - but decided to go with it since I was feeling OK and it was early enough in the day. I had managed to get onto trail 8, and as far as one of the ravines in trail 7 when I saw a couple coming at me equipped with only water bottles. I realized I had to have missed my turnoff somewhere, so I retraced my steps and finally figured out what the sign at the trailhead had meant. That said, I am glad I took the off-route path, as I got to see a pair of deer, and view a beautiful little creekfall in one of the ravines.

After going back to the campground turn, I made my way through another amazingly beautiful ravine. The stagnant water in the crook of the creek's turn let me know that the water level was steadily dropping... probably had been for a good month. But the scene was gorgeous as I passed through, and up the next set of stairs thoughtfully provided for folks to ascend.

For a while, the Campground Loop Trail and the Back Pack Trail run together, and it was here that I once again encountered the individual I had seen earlier. He was much deeper in the brush this time and looked confused. He was an older Japanese gentleman, and his English wasn't the greatest... and he was most certainly not dressed or equipped for a hike in the woods. He was wearing a polo shirt, jeans, and dress shoes. He had no water, no compass, and his map was so soaked with sweat that it was falling apart. He came up to me and pointed out into the brush where he had just been, asking about a shortcut. I told him that there were no shortcuts, and that leaving the trail was the surest way to get hopelessly lost. I don't think he understood. I walked with him a bit, and told him that he could either go to the campground, where I was sure there were people who might be able to help him, or he could take the trail marked with the 'return to main park trails' signs. He refused my further offers of assistance, and took off towards the Campground. With a shrug, I turned and resumed my hike.

The Campground Loop got a bit tedious for me, mainly because I really wanted to be back on the Back Pack Trail, headed for my ultimate destination. Getting off the loop would be another major step thereto. After bearing off to the west on the Back Pack Trail, it meandered to and fro through ravines, and crossed the county line near a power line clearing. The neat thing about the Back Pack Trail at Shades is that it runs through several types of forest areas, all of which are explained in the interpretive section of the map provided by the park.

A little further on, the trail widened a bit in what I figured was the access road for DNR security, but it wasn't. Still, it was a nice, wide path for a bit. Later, a gravel road was visible to my left as I neared the signs for the Back Pack Camp.

Upon arriving, I discovered nobody else present. It was in the 1 o'clock hour, so I had my choice of all seven clearings. Each clearing can accommodate 2 tents and up to 6 campers, and they feature a fire ring with cooking grate as well as a picnic table. I wanted to be closer to the creek, but the closest site to the creek was still a good quarter mile from the creek, and did not have trees spaced sufficiently to string up my hammock from. Ultimately, I chose a spot one clearing removed from the primitive facilities (pit toilet and a water spigot) and got to hanging up the Amok Dramur 2.0 for her second spin.

On the way out, I made one rest stop for some water (about 1/2 a liter) and some M&M's. After setting up camp, I discovered I as not really hungry enough to justify cooking my planned lunch. Some Justin's peanut butter pouches and M&M's provided more than enough energy for my afternoon, and I didn't really think about cooking dinner until after 6 PM.

I went to replenish my water at the provided spigot. The water was milky in color and bubbled, so, even though the DNR says it is safe to drink, I did decide to filter it. It definitely tasted better after I did so. After making a brief video (click here to view it on YouTube), I decided I really wasn't that tired, so I decided to head down to the Canoe Camp and Sugar Creek. On my way down, I spotted a barn owl flying overhead. He wound up landing on a branch perhaps 20 feet away from me, and just sat there for a while, allowing me to take a photograph of him before he flew off. I didn't see him again, but I definately heard him off and on throughout the afternoon.

The Canoe Camp was empty, and so I continued on down to the water's edge. Tadpoles were aplenty, and some lazy fish were collecting lunch as I walked along the shore. The water was tranquil and welcoming, but the DNR rules state no wading or swimming in the creek.

Upon returning to my camp area, I decided to kick of my shoes (I replaced my Lake & Trail insulated boots that failed on Monday with a pair of Merrill Moab Ventilators - gear review will be forthcoming) and climb into the hammock. My campsite was a bit buggy, so I did zip up the bug netting which reduced what little breeze was flowing through to almost nothing. (It is my understanding that the bug netting on the 3.0 model is far more breathable than the 2.0 net.) Because I was in a highly shaded area, though, this was OK.

I listened to the first two sessions of the Meditation for Christians audio retreat by James Finley, a former conferee with Thomas Merton at Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. Since I was alone, I just used my phone speaker instead of earbuds, as I was afraid I would miss park security if they came by to do their evening check and firewood sale. After listening, I went out and started getting things arranged for dinner. As I did so, I heard a car coming up the gravel drive, and the DNR Security officer checked in. I was the only camper for the night. I bought my wood ($5.35 inclusive of tax) and he left and went down to the Canoe Camp to make sure nobody had come ashore since I had last been there. He confirmed no change to the forecast - a clear night was anticipated. Thus, I did not pitch my tarp.

Dinner was a Mountain House Spaghetti with Meat Sauce which was OK. I listened to music on the phone, which was all it was good for, as there was absolutely no cell service in the camp, not even for texting. (I am on Verizon.) I was also noticing that the bugginess was pretty much eliminated by 6:30 PM. I still used my bug netting, but the night was really quite comfortable.

I did some more walking around the camp area just to explore before heading back to camp late in the 8 PM hour. I gave a shout asking if anyone else was around, since campers have until 1 hour before dusk to check in and use the site. No answer. I had seen one other hiker (trail runner, actually) and the park security officer. I would see nobody else until the morning. I was quite literally a mile from any help should anything go wrong.

Around 9:30 I lit my campfire. It was glorious! Once it got going good, I chose to chant compline from memory, using the form of the monks at New Melleray Abbey in Peosta, Iowa. With nobody else in the woods with me, I chanted with full gusto, and slowly - savoring the experience. At about 10:45, after some time of personal prayer and reflection, the fire was nearly out, so I decided to climb into the hammock and zip in for the night.

As I lay there, perhaps ten minutes in, a lone howl pierced the silence. Followed by a second. The two  howls had come from my left... the two began to howl in unison and were answered by a resounding group howl from the north side of Sugar Creek. I assume they were wolves of some form... and the sounds was, at one moment a bit scary, but for the most part, totally awe-inspiring and beautiful. I dozed in and out through the 11 o'clock hour, using a short playlist twice to really relax and doze. A little after midnight, I realized I was getting chilly, so I zipped on my jacket and wrapped my fleece blanket around my legs.

At some point after midnight, I dozed off and slept until about 4 AM, when I realized I was freezing and that I had to go to the bathroom. I pulled the fleece over my core, which helped minimally, but a half hour later I was still cold had to get up. After a visit to the privy, I added the final chunk of firewood and rekindled my fire. As I discovered upon returning home, the temperature in nearby New Market was 54.9... and I was definitely inadequately provisioned for sleeping. Around 5:30 I made the snack I had packed for the night before (instant rice in Nido and hot chocolate mix) and that really helped me warm up. The morning sky began to glow a wonderful rosy-orange as the 6 o'clock hour beckond me back to the hammock for a little additional shut eye. I set my alarm for 8 AM as I wanted to be back to the car by 11.

Upon awaking, I made a serving of Mountain House Scrambled Eggs and Bacon that did not, in the slightest, agree with me. I only ate about half of the bag before realizing that it was way too heavy on my stomach.

With the hammock packed and everything squared away, I left camp around 9:10 AM, and had an uneventful hike back to the car. Arriving just before 11 AM. I was originally planning to hike further in the park, but I was definitely feeling tired and decided that Shades would provide more than enough opportunities for future hiking, so I headed out for home.

A few things I need to consider -

Need to make some decisions on sleep gear. I intend to modify a Costco down throw for cooler weather later this year, but what will work best for summer?

I am definitely overpacking on food still. As a commenter on my last post noted, we pack our fears. I felt going out that I had taken that into account, but I still way overpacked.

What to do about my pack... my High Sierra Explorer 55 experienced another failure, and remains very uncomfortable. It also ripped up the back of my hiking shirtbut good. I think I am going to have to recontact them... but I can't afford a differnet back anytime soon. When I can, I will be going to a place like REI to get properly fitted.

I would highly recommend Shades' Back Pack Trail to anyone looking for a good overnight option. It's near enough to the Indy Metro area to make access a breeze, but far enough out there to give you an awesome backwoods experience.

Post-Mortem of an Abandoned Hike

While this is going to get filed under 'Trip Reports', what the following account amounts to is an autopsy of a failed trip. Now, before you come down on me here, by failed trip I am not dogging on myself... I am admitting that some (many?) of my plans and assumptions about this trip directly resulted in my need to abort it, and so I choose to look at this as a learning experience,

I've been planning to do the Tecumseh Trail for about 8 months. My target date was last week, but due to a new initiative at work, I had to reschedule for this week. That was both a curse (higher temps this week over last) and a blessing. I probably would have made it further along the hike before I had realized I was in trouble if I had went last week, which would have made bailing out that much harder.

Let's start with what went right.

1) I had a reasonable trip plan in place for someone new to the distance hiking bit. I had given myself the grace to do 8 miles to 14 miles on day 1, and as few as 6 on day 2, working up to 12 on day 3, and 12 on day 4. I still think those mileage goals were reasonable given my past performance in hiking, and I stand by those choices in the planning stage.

2) I was well informed about trail and weather conditions. Perhaps too well informed. Much of my critical thinking was put into weather and trail condition mitigation, and it may have distracted me from my focus on other logistics. That said, nothing was really a surprise to me when I encountered it.

3) I was alert enough to listen to my body and take stock of my circumstances and to have the guts to call it when I was confronted with the truth that continuing on was a bad idea. It's incredibly hard to be building up to doing something big like this, telling your friends, family, and co-workers, and then decide to bail about 5 miles in, but that's exactly what I had to do.

Trail Closed... no Detour Posted

Let's look at the trip itself...

After getting ourselves locked out of the house with no keys and delaying arrival at the trail head by an hour and a half, we arrived at the Orcutt Road Trailhead to discover signage saying that the trail was closed. This was a bit of a surprise, since the sign provided no redirection, as had been given on the phone when I had spoken to the Morgan-Monroe office the previous week. Given the way that cars were speeding down Forest Road, the idea of road walking down to the Low Gap Trailhead was not at all appealing, so we drove down to that trailhead, where the kids and the wife dropped me off, presumably for the better part of a week.

About a half mile or so in, an individual started to overtake me. He asked me where I was heading, which immediately started a conversation. The individual was a geologist who was most interested in talking to me about glaciation, John Muir, and many other topics. I had to pick up my pace to keep up, and he wasn't even breaking a sweat. This was my first sign of an issue. I have always had heat issues (can't stand it), but it was at some point just before the sharp left hand turn on the Rock Shelter portion of the trail where I was last dry... by the time I made it to Rock Shelter, I was soaked. I had been hiking for, perhaps, all of 30-45 minutes. I used the shelter as my excuse to separate from the geologist whose pace I could never have matched, and stop for a bit.

At Rock Shelter I ate half my sandwich and carrots, had some water, and went to tie my boots which had already come undone. I noticed two issues at this time. One was that my boots looked odd. I wasn't sure why, they just did. The second was that, as I bent over to tie the left boot, a chilled tingle passed through my ankle. I immediately stood up, more gingerly approached the tie up, and then hiked the next bit a little gingerly as a precaution.

After hiking up the steep incline after Rock Shelter, I was feeling much better. Food and water had helped... but as I hit the trail divide between returning to the Low Gap Trailhead and heading towards the backcountry, I was slowing down again. In particular an open hole in the forest canopy near a pond really slowed me as the heat just poured down on me. Turning towards the backcountry, the forest re-enclosed me, and my pace again slowed and, finally, I had to stop and sit down. I ate the rest of my sandwich and carrots, and just sat for a bit. There was no wind to speak of, the canopy providing a blessing and curse in that sense - blessing for no direct sunlight, but no wind meant no evaporative cooling. Sitting for 20 minutes resulted in no real cooling for me at all. Up and onward.

As I came to Low Gap Road, and the start of the Backcountry  area of MMSF, I was again feeling drained. I crossed the North Fork of Honey Creek, which had a bit of water coursing through it. Then another small footbridge over a boggy area led to some campsites. I passed them and approached the second creek bridge, this time over the East Fork of Honey Creek. Here I decided to test out my water filter.

At this point, I had emptied two bottles of water (probably 40 ounces) along with a liter out of my hydration bladder. I was sweating like a madman. For a filter, I am using a Sawyer Squeeze system, which worked great. Oh that water was cold and refreshing! I refilled both bottles, then filled the squeeze bag for the Sawyer filter and drank the entire 16 ounces in one long drag. I refilled, sprayed  bagful of water over my head to cool myself off, and then refilled and drank again - all 16 ounces. At this point, therefore, I had 34 ounces from the bladder and 72 ounces from other sources, for at total of 106 ounces of water in the span of about 3 1/2 hours. I began dillying at the creek, feeling a bit confused, but I remounted my pack, crossed the bridge, and moved on. It was at about this time that I began feeling hotspots and moisture in my boots, specifically where the outside of the big toes meets the boot. This is where I had noticed issues earlier back at Rock Shelter, but my thinking was already getting clouded, so I didn't really stop to think through what was causing the issue.

After the creek, the trail meanders a bit and heads uphill. I continued this way for probably another 1/3 to 1/2 mile before encountering a lovely assemblage of yellowjackets. As I stood there, I stood - not exactly frozen - but just at a complete loss about what I was doing, where I was going, how to handle the swarm, and trying to remember why I thought it was an issue. (I though it was an issue because, about 5 years ago, I got my legs stung but good by yellowjackets, but I couldn't even place that memory in the moment). I turned around and walked perhaps 20 or 30 yards back wards. Then I stopped and walked the other way. The yellowjackets were there. Where had they come from? I had to remind themselves that I had run into them before. But where? It was at this moment that I happened to look down and see that my right boot was starting to disintegrate, and that the stitching on my left boot where my toes were feeling wet had began to unravel. I knew this was decision time, and I was not going to allow the pride of 'overcoming obstacles' overcome the common sense of turning back to a safe haven and taking stock of my situation. I went back down the hill, crossed the East Fork bridge, and wandered into a camp that had been made a mess of. I went to another, that had people staying in it, and asked about other campsites. They told me there was a clearing behind their site, so I went there.

I decided to set up for the night. My next indication of a problem came when it took me an hour and a half to set up the same hammock and tarp that I had set up in 15 minutes just two days earlier. I wasn't thinking clearly still and my sweating, far from getting better, was getting worse. At one point, my shirt was steadily dripping everywhere. At this point, I had drank another 20 ounces of electrolyte-infused water, and 20 ounces of regular water. I went back to the creek, filled both bottles again, and brought back the filled bag as well for cooking water. I collected firewood, cooked dinner (Mountain House Mac & Cheese with Bacon Jerky) and ate the entire 3 serving bag of mac and half the jerky. The entire time, I never stopped sweating. My urine was dark in color, indicating dehydration. The temps were predicted to be in the 80's, and I knew they wouldn't be getting any better. By 7 pm, I had very spotty cell reception, and was able to let my wife know I was OK, but was going to need pickp the following day. It wasn't until about 10 PM that I got my location to her by text. After that, reception took a tank and I had no reception again until after I was picked up.

As dusk settled, I did get a nice fire going. I had hoped that might help to dry me out, but it didn't. Finally, about 10 PM, I changed shirts, but continued to sweat until about 3 AM.

Around midnight, some animal - I think a possum - climbed onto my pack (hanging from a nearby tree) as I was lightly dozing... that put me on edge. Not to mention the relatively loud and constant 'moo'ing coming from a farm down south of my location. Glowing eyes would look back at me in my hammock anytime I looked out. Yea, I was kinda creeped out.

About 1:30 or so, headlamps started shining into my hammock. That went on for about half an hour. The people at the next camp over had done a night hike and were doing privy business, so that explained that. Later in the night, however, the distinct sound of large animals again called me back to attentiveness... what sounded like two deer fighting, running around, huffing at one another. All I could envision was one of them running into my camp and sending me spinning in my hammock. I climbed out, rekindled my fire, hoping that would keep thenm away, and finally dozed off - probably out of sheer exhaustion - around 4ish. I was back up at 6:30, got some supplies from my pack, and laid back down in the hammock, dozing in and out until 8. It took me an hour to break down camp, and then Kristen came to pick me up at 10:30.

Now, let me share what went wrong.

1) I waaaaaaaaaay overpacked. And I thought I was being conservative! One paperback to read and a prayerbook - those were my luxury items. They never got touched, as did little of the packed food. My pack weight was 41 pounds. I packed way too much food for this trip. I could have gotten away with half of what I packed. Not sure on the water though.

2) Inattention early. If I had actually taken off my boots back at Rock Shelter, I would have noticed that the right boot sole had separated from the leather upper. That alone would probably have resulted in an abort, and such an abort might have been best. I also, in retrospect, realize I was somewhat disoriented on my stop at the creek to filter water. Could have saved myself an hour there if I had been more attentive and acknowledged my situation.

3) I overestimated the protection that the forest canopy would give from the heat. I am temperature sensitive, so I figured that canopy would help - which it did, but not nearly enough to compensate for my sensitivity. I was actively sweating until about 3 AM, when it was definitely down into the 60's. I think I need to confine long trips to spring and fall... summer is right straight out for backpacking more than a short distance. I have to acknowledge and own that.

That's about it for the moment. I am sure I will have more lessons to learn, but one thing I did take away from this experience is that while the elements won the day over my goals, I did not conclude my experience by wanting to drop the hobby as I did in the slog back from my Peninsula Trail hike. That is a step forward, and a positive one at that.

Using the Amok Hammock as a Bivy

JmBoh at Hammock Forums has shared a video on how to use the Amok hammock system as a bivy in the event that you can't hang for the night. A great tutorial, as I am concerned about my ability to hammock at Yellowwood next week. After I get back from the Tecumseh hike, I plan to offer a gear review of the Amok hammock.

The Indiana Greenways Challenge

The good people over at Greenways Foundation have been dedicated to the ongoing development of Indiana's access to outdoor recreation for a decade now. In celebration of their tenth anniversary, they have launched the Indiana Greenways Challenge. Their new state-wide trail map serves as a vehicle for discovering trails, and a multi-tiered series of options gives even the newest hiker, rider, horseback rider, or water-sports enthusiast accessible choices for outdoor recreation.

This initiative is a part of a social media campaign to continue to foster awareness of both the Greenways Foundation's mission, as well as the many outdoor recreational opportunities we are blessed with here in the State of Indiana. 

For more information, visit the Challenge website HERE.

With the hiking I am planning to do this year, I am opting for the Hoosier Trail Hero level... but there are great prizes for various levels of participation. Also, if you have one of their license plates, there is an additional level of consideration too. You do have a Trails plate, right?

I'll be sharing my progress with the hashtags #HoosierTrailHero and #INGreenwaysChallenge over on Facebook.

Happy trails!