The Rewards of Getting Lost

Well, I wasn’t really lost. It’s tough to get lost in a park in America. There’s always a road or path intruding on what passes for wilderness. Besides, I was virtually in my own backyard, the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. I knew if I headed west I’d run into the creek. If I headed north I’d eventually get to Route 82. So it was more like I was hiking in an area yet to be mapped—not lost.
Here’s what happened: I had to make a deposit at the bank (like they really need my money), which is about three miles from home if one wants to burn some fossil fuel. I was looking over a map, as I’m want to do, and decided it would be more fun to just head out through the woods, cut here, climb there, pop out on a trail near that spot and eventually work my way back to the parking area near the bank.
I grabbed my gear and went, fully expecting to do six or so miles round trip. The end of the story is that I did more than 10 miles. I sort of miscalculated all the twists and turns, and side trails to interesting sounds in the woods.
Getting off the beaten path is well worth the effort. I was in a park, in a metropolitan area and yet, the woods was as dense as one could wish for. A Hooded Warbler sang from a nearby bush. I stood still and he eventually worked to within 10 feet of where I watched him. Gorgeous views of a bird usually found in the tree tops. And more often heard than seen.
A Scarlet Tanager flash in front of me as I stopped to consider how wet I wanted to get crossing a creek. He landed on a branch on the other side and watched as I splashed through ankle-deep water, minnows scattering in all directions.
It was the singing of a Swainson’s Thrush that stopped me short, however. The fluting, smooth sound is rarely heard in this area since most of this species nests much further to the north. I followed the unmistakable sound of a thrush singing, deeper into the woods. And there he was, at eye-level, not 20 feet away. He seemed not to care that I was listening to his concert. His song was rolling and complex, not something I could whistle as I bushwhacked back to so-called civilization. It is a tune I’ll long remember, however.