For those in Columbus, this is going to make me a very poor citizen: I have never been to Highbanks prior to today. I know, I know – it’s some of the best trails in the city, it’s close to my old home, there are huge old stands of sycamore trees. I hear you, I know. I’m fixing it!
So the week prior to my visit, it rained A TON in Columbus. The trail I wanted to head out on, the Coyote Run, is an unimproved trail. I checked with the park ranger, and she politely indicated I may not want to take that trail without waders on. I was wearing hiking shoes, so…change of plans.
The Dripping Rock trail is about 2.5 miles or so long, and winds through the middle of the park. It’s also slightly improved, with gravel for most of the way, which means my chances of slipping on a rock while attempting to cross a mudpit like the world’s clumsiest gazelle are much lower. It also has a ton of side paths which go essentially straight down into the creek, which are very tempting. I decided, however, that probably today I should stick to the path or come home covered in mud.
The path begins behind the nature center, and immediately plunges into fresh green woods and a beautiful wooden overlook. Due to all the rain, the entire forest is loamy and beautifully green, and smells fresh and new. I’ve already warned everyone about my love of lichen and mushrooms, so it should be no surprise to see that the first thing I found was this brilliantly green growth. I need my book to hurry up and get here!
The pathway was absolutely full of all sorts of beautiful plants and flowers! These tiny things hopefully someone can help me identify, because they’re both everywhere and gorgeous. I love wildflowers so much. It’s one of the things I miss the most about Central Texas. Spring was an absolute riot of wildflowers, and thanks to the tireless efforts of Lady Bird Johnson, the roadways of Texas are covered in them every year. I love seeing them, and dearly miss driving through rolling hills of bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes.
One you get past the nature center, the path begins to snake through the trees running next to the creek. That waterway empties into the Olentangy River to the west of the path, but I won’t be making that trip today. Instead, I finally found a sidepath down to the water that wasn’t a waterslide of mud, and was well-defined. I took it!
And I am so very glad I did. At the bottom of the path was an amazing creekbed with what one could call perfect lighting. The sun was just really coming over the treeline, and the entire bed was speckled with light. I sat right down there and listened to the water for a little while.
While I was down there, I found myself drawn to the bend in the creek. This was clearly an area which handled flash floods from time to time, and the gently burbling creek was awash on both sides with debris from upstream. Looking closer, and, I will admit, standing on a fallen log, I noticed something pretty neat.
How cool is this? They are little circular washbasins formed by the water swirling down from the creek over thousands of years!
I’ve read about these, but I’d never seen one in person before. They really do look like washbasins, and it made me think of all the stories from Scotland and Ireland of the Bain Sidhe, washing the clothes of the soon to be departed in the rushing streams. Next time I’m there, I’ll have to look for more of them. Washbasins, not Bain Sidhe.
Before climbing back out of the gully, I took a quick picture of the creek. It’s pretty clear from this angle how wide it can get during the rains. I’m glad I was down here on a clear and sunny day!
In the piles of leaves while I was climbing out, I did chance on a group of snails making their morning lunch. They’re pretty cute, for a snail. Look at his antennae!
The path crosses the stream at several points, and I slid myself back down to the creekside once again to get a lovely shot of the bridge. I love arches in all their forms, and this made me smile a lot. I wasn’t able to get a good picture, but the entire creekbed was just dappled with light, and the sides were full of flaky slate and mica. It was just a little bit sparkly!
The pathway began to wind its way back towards civilization, and the trees opened up. The rain has been a blessing for fungus of all kinds, and this fallen log was COVERED in them. They almost look like taro chips growing out of the sides of the log, don’t they?
Once back up from the creek bed, we came into little meadows dotted with all sorts of amazing wildflowers. And, to my delight, this perfect pathway! This was a tiny cut-through that runs between the Dripping Rock trail and the Big Meadows Path. The grasses are just barely knee high, and to a fairy, they would be head-high.
As we plunged back into the woods, I was rewarded again with some absolutely perfect mushrooms. How cute are these little guys growing out of the leaves? I just adore the pink in the middles.
This area of the forest is one of the stands of old-growth trees, like this sycamore. I love standing under them and just laying against the bark for a while. It never fails to make me feel even shorter than I already am, but in the best sort of way.
This giant tree had a surprise on the stump next to it – another swirly green fungal growth! Since it’s so dry, none of my hikes in California every had so many mushrooms. It’s only when I’m back East am I reminded of how much I love them.
At the crossroads, we happen upon the universal sign for lost clothing: The lonely hat on trail markers. I hope it found its home. The pathway crosses the Overlook trail here, which goes up the banks to a beautiful platform over the Olentangy River. I’m tempted, but I think I’ll leave that for another, quieter day. Because it’s the weekend, the trails are very full of families and trail runners. I’m glad to see so many people out, but the reclusive fae part of me prefers empty trails. Next time.
The old growth forest past the Overlook path is chock full of interesting fallen logs. This one caught my eye in particular. Then scared the bejeezus out of me! When I looked inside, there was a bit of old, mottled rope right near the edge – which when I first peeked in looked exactly like a snake! I’m extremely glad no one was close to hear me shriek and run back to the path.
One of the things I always enjoy about parks is seeing all the benches memorialized with other nature lover’s names. I think this is a beautiful way to remember someone. This one in particular I really enjoyed, since it had one of his poems placed on the bench as well. Just for Ronald, I sat on his bench and spent a few minutes looking at the creek rushing through the valley below.
The final twists of the path were high above the creek at this point, but you can still hear it merrily gurgling along to your right as you make your way back towards the nature center. My final side trip took me down a small path to the Adena mound. This area of the country is full of earthworks, and unfortunately many of them have been looted and destroyed. A single mound is still in place here, and I opted to let the dead keep their vigil without me taking a picture. It’s been many long years, but I always prefer to let the spirits keep their peace.
Two amazing stumps greeted me on my way back to my car, though. One was an amazing shell of a tree, mostly rotted away, with thin bubbles of decay still keeping the shape.
This one, however, is probably the first in what will be a huge series of stumpy faerie homes. I’ve always believed these would be perfect places for tiny forest faeries to live, don’t you think?
Sadly, soon after the faerie house, I found myself back at my car. I can see now why so many people come to Highbanks to hike – the forests are thick and lush, the paths are gorgeous, and there are many more left for me to explore. Hopefully next time things will be just a little bit less muddy, and I can finally take the outside Coyote Run Trail. Fingers crossed for clear weather!