The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 2

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 2: May 25th, 2026

States Hiked: Wisconsin, Minnesota

Trail Hiked: St. Croix Loop

Distance Hiked: 5.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 351 ft. 

Cumulative Wander: 17.2 miles

Duration: 1h 37m'

Before you accuse me of being lazy for knocking off the second state this close to my home area, hear me out. 

Something sucked out my mind and replaced it with stupid on this day, and I did the best I could without completely losing it. 

My first true wander in years started off with buggering it up no less than five times just simply trying to find my way to saying goodbye to someone. I went to the wrong branch of the restaurant, then got off the wrong exit (twice) trying to get to their partners’ place (that I’ve driven to no less than seven times), missed the turn to get back on the 94, and parked in the wrong spot trying to use a gender neutral restroom on the way out. By the time I reached the last part of that series of shenanigans, I conceded my own mental state to hike through a tourist town on a holiday Sunday, put on my headphones and my “shit is way too fucking bright” sunglasses, and ignored everyone and everything until I completed it. 

Half of it is in Wisconsin, and I parked on the Houlton side, so it counts. I hiked in the second state on my list. I even stopped in Beloit to do an Adventure Lab for all of .3 miles later, so if this one doesn’t count, I’ll combine the both for the technicality of the checklist I completely made up. 

I’ve hiked the Stillwater loop more times than nearly any other trail in Minnesota, even before I really considered myself a hiker at all. It’s a lovely trail, albeit a heavily-touristed one, as it crosses two impressive bridges to complete the loop. Granted, one is the iconic lift bridge, so it’s vastly more appealing. The other is a beautiful suspension bridge that would be wonderful for hiking and the views as it ascends (or descends, depending on the direction of travel) over the St. Croix Valley into/out of Wisconsin, but what ruins it is not just the amount of traffic, but how loud said traffic is. Nothing quite says “escape into nature” like Dale and his souped up F-150 that’s like all his other friends’ souped up F-150s in order to showcase how he’s a rebel and a unique individual, floor it while crossing lanes and making sure to own the libs with that sick, sick obnoxiously loud engine designed to do nothing more than tell who he is as a person in enginicular form. 

But, after screwing up five times, which is five more times than I usually do while traveling (I wasn’t called the human GPS for my tendency to make navigational errors), I really didn’t care about anything but putting in a few miles and doing a hard reset on this Great Wander of 2026. Got it out of the way, headed to Chicago once again as my first resting point, and put some miles and a pushpin on the map.

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 1

 

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 1: May 24th, 2026

State Hiked: Minnesota

Trail Hiked: Big Rivers Regional Trail

Distance Hiked: 11.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 499 ft. 

Duration: 3h 32m

I came to the conclusion that I needed to return to my roots. 

After traveling for so many years with the purpose of seeing another, or speeding somewhere else in the country for an emergency, I started to realize that while my frequent flier miles weren’t accumulating anymore, my travel budget had concurrently expanded rapidly. I’d limited my wandering to a confined area in the hopes of finding the everlasting, lost-to-me home through which I hoped my spirit would find solace and station. But, as it turned out, even with graduating DBT therapy, a proper diagnosis and the according medication, and the happiest and most stable state of being I’d ever experienced, the nomadic spirit does not dissipate. 

I have this deep deep feeling in my ribs again…

Therefore, with all the PTO I’ve managed to not use, I decided that I needed to wander like I once did in my youth, while leaving out the part of not having any gas money, or the mental stability to pay attention to where I was, or a fixed address, or any kind of support system, or any kind of impulse control. But in every other way, just like it used to be. 

I set an arbitrary goal for myself: 17 states/provinces in which I would hike (and Geocache.) Very little else was permanent and non-adjustable, as evidenced by bumping up the dates by two weeks when some friends invited me to AEW: Dynamite in Philadelphia, so returning to my alma mater and keeping a long held promise to be with them when they went to their first wrestling show, I was more than willing to accommodate that into my (lack of an) itinerary. That’s the great thing about wandering with no particular destination; never late, never early, always right where one needs to be.

I started off the wandering by knocking out the easiest state, the one where I live. I didn’t take the car, for during a holiday weekend in nice weather, it wasn’t even worth trying to find a place that wasn’t flooded with trail tourists, so I walked across the 494 and finally tried to get the Verified Complete badge that had eluded me several other times on the Big Rivers Regional Trail. Despite there being more bikes than mosquitos, and my personal distaste for the branch of the marked trail that requires crossing roads and meandering through suburban hell, I managed to finally achieve that squiggly circle on the fourth attempt. 

This trail is lovely, though I imagine it’s more fun on a bike. Running next to the rivers, looking down at Pike Island where they split, and also making a brief cameo in Mendota (no Heights), it’s adequate. I wasn’t hiking for the enjoyment of it, it was just to remove the need of hiking before I left the state and the real travel began the next day. 

I am my own arrow, I am my own home. It’s alright, it’s all I’ve ever known.

Superior Hiking Trail #3.7 - Silver Bay to Illgen City

 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 3 - Section 7

Silver Bay to Illgen City

Date Hiked - November 15th, 2025

Miles - 11.4

Elevation Gain - 1696 ft. 

This was my favorite hike in all of 2025, and not because of the scenery, wonderfully difficult terrain, unseasonably beautiful day, or meeting the challenge of a long segment of the Superior Hiking Trail. It was the company.

Rarely do I get the chance to hike with anyone, and even more seldom is it with someone for whom I don't have to slow down or do less than I typically would. Which is also to say, I don't mind when I'm spending time with someone who doesn't do ridiculous miles or difficult hikes, just that it's exceedingly rare when I'm not accommodating. 

This is also the first time I hiked with two other people on the same level. And what a hike it was! 

AllTrails has its flaws and issues, but through several algorithmic accidents and non-user intuitive communication, I became friends with K. I wrote about our first hike at Afton, but various life difficulties and shenanigans beyond our control, we didn't get to go on our second until this day late in the year, and along with us was meeting my friend J for the first time. We knew the trek would be challenging, even by SHT standards, but the three of us set out with the terribly bright autumn sun reflecting off the Gitchee Gumee like even it was trying to talk us out of it. 

The Bean and Bear Lake loop only recently being restored, mercifully the Verified Complete badge would be attainable. Contrasting my normally silent treks through the remote wilderness, the three of us gabbed it up like we'd been friends all our lives, which is uncharacteristic for me in most settings, let alone trying to climb up steep elevation and rocks slicked with fallen leaves. Thank goodness for trekking poles, or I might've had a one-on-one conversation with a few, possibly getting up close and personal with my face at increased velocity. 

Seeing the difficulty level of this hike under ideal conditions, the Gales of November were like "naw bitch, we're gonna see your mission and raise you 'WANNA SEE A GREAT VIEW OVER THIS CLIFF, THE HARD WAY?!" This section of the SHT offers so many stunning views, a reward for climbing over rock steps that seem designed to taunt you with their steep angles, but these gusts were intense enough that slipping several hundred feet over the edge was a distinct possibility. 

The tracker said 11.4 miles, but taking nearly five hours to complete, it felt more like 20. Not in a bad way, completing this section was earned, but it was a true companionate adventure where three names on a hiking app actually became friends, completed a hike together, and mutually got to go full force without having to hold up. We all became friends that day, and I only hope 2026 is filled with more opportunities for these three Hiker Alphas (K's words) to go conquer something else on which we couldn't take anyone else in our lives.

Epic Hikes of Washington State - Mt. Walker

 

Mt. Walker

Date Hiked: August 3rd, 2025

Trail Hiked: Mount Walker Loop

Distance Hiked: 8.1 miles

Elevation Gain: 2126 ft. 

Duration: 3h 14m

 

With the previous day's hike traversing a hidden gem in the Seattle Metro, this conversely took me to the Olympic National Forest in the other direction from base. Cougar was a return trip, Walker was a first-timer, not just for the mountain itself, but being the first time I'd ever hiked anywhere near there. Cougar was bright and sunny, this fog was "the owls are not what they seem." Cougar is now a graveyard of memories I wish I could Eternal Sunshine from my overactive brain, Walker is... a sign of the potential further hikes I could've done if my focus had been otherwise. Life is weird.

 

Mt. Walker is certainly not the hardest hike in the area. Even on a foggy day, I could see other mountains that were probably a tougher climb, but given that my first real mountain summit was a week prior, I felt it might be a good idea to start with ones in the two or three thousand foot range and maybe work up to the Rainiers and Bakers of the world? Weird thought, I don't know, maybe I'm onto something. 

 

With the heavy layers of fog covering the canopy, the dew on the greens and ferns felt particularly flavored to the Pacific Northwest, which would be obvious had this summer I spent there not been overwhelmingly sunny and dry. The ascent is immediate but not ridiculous, and I only saw two or three other people the whole time, at least before I got to the top. It's probably not fair to Mt. Walker to judge it against the majesty of Mt. Si, but again, not much from which to draw at this point, in that Mt. Walker was a reasonably hard climb but not the more arduous sections of incline that Si challenged me with. 

 

I am certain that the views from Walker's top are considerable. When I reached it, not only did I see climbers and other tourists taking in the Pyramidhead-esque surroundings (benefits of there being a way to drive to the top), but there were also a lot of signs and placards explaining to me what all these gorgeous icons in the landscape were and how awesome it was to be there. Akin to my (first) trip to Great River Bluffs State Park bragging about the breathtaking views, I'm sure they're fantastic... if I could've actually seen them. 

 

One option to return back was to go the way I came, and the other was allegedly a loop, and I suppose technically it was. However, rather than a trail, AllTrails decided the road was the fun way to go down, and while it started slowly revealing more layers of the surrounding Olympic National Forest, I didn't enjoy  dodging those who took the motorized way to the top. Not that I have anything against trail tourists, but... okay maybe I do just a little bit, particularly against their vehicles being near me. 

 

It is what it is, and foggy Mt. Walker's good. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Sakatah Lake State Park

 

Sakatah Lake State Park

Date Hiked: December 20th, 2025, December 23rd, 2025

Trail Hiked: Sakatah Singing Hills State Trail - SLSP to Morristown, SLSP to Halfway to Elysian Lake

Distance Hiked: 9.0 miles, 8.8 miles

Elevation Gain: 269 ft., 289 ft.

Duration: 3:21:28, 3:11:40

Funny enough, it was also winter when I revisited Sakatah Lake State Park. This time around though, it was covered with ice, snow, and cold, as opposed to the initial Hiking Club trek, which was only visited by the air raid siren in the fog. 

Does this really count as the longest trail in Sakatah Lake State Park? Technically I suppose, it does go through it, but with the Singing Hills Trail also being a Geocaching Power Trail, it became an adventure that also led to my first Hundred Percenting of a moderate distance trail (25 miles or more), with several others in the process as I hike and double back its segments. 

The fourth and fifth of ten installments of Hundred Percenting (technically twice, given the double back each time) led me to begin at Sakatah Hills State Park, and while it didn't fulfill the idea of seeing how different the park was during a season other than winter, it's my damn travelogue and I'll do what I want with it. 

The trees were great protection from the icy Arctic winds, but those quickly gave way to the prairie chill that anyone from the Upper Midwest knows quite well this time of year. During this entire ten-part series, I only encountered other hikers at each end. By the time I was finishing up, I saw more snowmobilers than walkers, which probably says more about me than it should. Any other time of year, I'd likely have cyclists blowing by me, so it worked out nicely to revisit this park during the winter. 

If one is looking for scenery, elevation gain, or epic views, this is not the first or hundredth trail I'd recommend. While with a ride and decent weather I could finish this trail in two days, the winter and ice added a level to it much like doing the Hiking Club in the cold months, plus the added solitude and lack of interruptions as I kept creeping into the trees to look for Geocaches. Those things can be tough to open in such temperatures, and the ones that aren't in a tree might as well not even be bothered with the snow going up to my thigh at points. But, I still hiked from Faribault to Mankato, and nobody can say I didn't. 

Sakatah Lake State Park is perfectly fine for what it is. Sitting in dense forest, near a lake, relatively close to the Twin Cities, and near several small towns that create a bit of infrastructure which even the SHT could learn from. It doesn't have the excitement of any of the crescent trails in the state, but it's a hike through several towns I'd likely never have heard of otherwise, a state park in the middle, and hundreds of potential Geocaching finds, even if a significant amount of them are too wet to sign. 

My perspective on this state park hasn't changed, which isn't even necessarily a bad thing. It is what it is. 

Sakatah Singing Hills State Trail - 100 Percent Completed

Hike 1

Date Hiked: November 24th, 2025

Distance Hiked: 5.5 miles

Trailhead to Wells Lake

Hike 2

Date Hiked: November 27th, 2025

Distance Hiked: 10.5 miles

Wells Lake to Warsaw

Hike 3

Date Hiked: December 17th, 2025

Distance Hiked: 6.1 miles

Warsaw to Morristown

Hike 4

See Above

Hike 5

See Above

Hike 6

Date Hiked: December 24th, 2025

Distance Hiked: 9.4 miles

Elysian Lake to Halfway Pt.

Hike 7

Date Hiked: December 26th, 2025

Distance Hiked: 7.9 miles

Elysian Lake to Halfway to Madison Lake

Hike 8

Date Hiked: January 2nd, 2026

Distance Hiked: 5.4 miles

Madison Lake to Halfway Pt.

Hike 9

Date Hiked: January 3rd, 2026

Distance Hiked: 9.6 miles

Eagle Lake to Madison Lake

Hike 10

Date Hiked: January 4th, 2026

Distance Hiked: 9.9 miles

Mankato to Eagle Lake

Epic Hikes of Washington State - Cougar Mountain

 

Cougar Mountain

Date Hiked: August 2nd, 2025

Trail Hiked: Whitaker Peak and Shy Bear Loop Trail to Doughty Falls

Distance Hiked: 9.5 miles

Elevation Gain: 2162 ft. 

Duration: 3h 49m

This mountain is a graveyard of memories for me, and it has nothing to do with the trail itself. 

I didn't know when I was doing this hike that it would (likely) be the last time I ever set foot on these grounds. At the time I was traversing these heights, it was a return to conquer something upon which I'd given up at a time of much lesser endurance than I now possessed. It was a place of sentiment, the subject of many stories, and one where something (once) significant took place that helped shape several years of my life. 

Now, to reflect on it, it is one of morose, of buried emotions that lay dormant amongst the tombstones with names fading into the obscurity of the past. Writing about it is one last journey through moss and a canopy of trees upon which my eyes will never gaze again, and that is a shame because this is a beautiful place within decent proximity to the metro area. 

When my hiking prowess was much closer to the novice level, at a time where I didn't even think to bring a water bottle or proper footwear, I explored this place with Redacted without realizing just how far up we went. The screams of a barred owl only heightened the mystique of this place that created the illusion of isolation despite being mere minutes away from the main drag in Renton. Funny enough, this was my second choice of a location for adventure on this pristine Saturday August morning, after an attempt to revisit the Melmont Ghost Town trail was unsuccessful due to trail closure. Thus, going from Bremerton to Carbonado was a waste of time, and Cougar Mountain ended up being as close to a sentimental callback as the former was intended to be. I'll write about Melmont another time, once I can conjure its similarly dead place in my soul. 

Having completed the summit of Mt. Si a mere week earlier, the immediate slope upward didn't seem as difficult as it had four years prior. But, the trail gives no illusions of gentle ascent, for once one leaves their car in the tiny parking lot (assuming one even finds a spot), the upward climb begins immediately and doesn't let up for a while. Cougar Mountain is a mere third of the height of Si, but confronting that incline first thing into the hike definitely gets the output juices going within the first few minutes of arrival. 

The giant rocks with mossy coats give way to shadowy cavern-like crevices, making it appropriate to throw on some Howard Shore and imagine one is descending into the hidden paradise of Rivendell. How one can be so close to a main road and experience such calming silence is as Washingtonian as one can get in such endeavors, but after a few hundred feet of hanging out with corvids and waterfalls, it's easy to forget the surrounding activity. 

It's beautiful. I hate it now. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Glacial Lakes State Park

Glacial Lakes State Park

Date Hiked: February 3rd, 2026

Trail Hiked: Kettle Lakes Loop

Distance Hiked: 8.2 miles

Elevation Gain: 673 ft.

Duration: 3h 5m

The last time I visited Glacial Lakes State Park was revelatory, and not just because I got an excuse to drop a Kara Thrace reference. In those four seasons during one hike, I experienced a beacon of sunshine from within, where the true self for which I’d been searching finally started breaking through the stratus clouds of the soul. I heard the perfect song, “Fall in Love” by Lazer Club, and I danced along the ancient hills, ripping my shirt off and screaming to the vast horizon that I was finally there.

One year later, I yearned for a similar experience. 

It was only 16 degrees, and yet I didn’t need a coat. The trail was covered by snow and yet I didn’t need my spikes. The park was empty and yet I didn’t feel alone. Having wonderful new friends and a true sense of community despite living history in my city for the second time in six years, the disasters of 2025 were present but not overwhelming me with their aftershocks. It was time to put a capstone on my relationship with this park, as it knew what I needed once. Perhaps the muse lightning in its blissful, non-actual-electricness would strike a second, merciful time. 

Where the Hiking Club trail featured multiple types of terrain, the Kettle Lakes Loop traversed the vastness of the surrounding landscape. Rolling hills despite being in the prairie, ascents and descents with surprising intensity, it felt like the perfection of frozen solitude, the time loop allowing an encore to the prior hike but with a year’s worth of heartbreak and growth alike to fill the in-between. The spaces where routine and response once enlivened predictable yet anticipated mutuality, I now pushed along the vague sense of a trail underneath the drifts purely for my own fulfillment. Sometimes it’s okay to do what you need for no one’s benefit but your own, and I in no way whatsoever claim otherwise for this adventure. This was for me, and I needed something, but I wouldn’t know what until it happened. 

Then, it did.

I let the sax and sky drums of Lazer Club transmit the posthumous beams of a shattered past, with several names now etched into the tombstone of what once was. Then, it was up to the algorithm from the root of that song to find me in this peace. 

Never could I have predicted Bodine Monet’s voice to pierce my snow cocoon of solitude, and yet as I pushed up the steepest hill of the sojourn, there she was.

I wanna drive the highway through the night, I wanna take you somewhere no one finds, I wanna make mistakes that won’t feel right, I wanna chase the hate I’d give my life, for all the love you’d give me, I’m taking it far like a reckless car.

 

Glacial Lakes State Park, once again, was exactly where I needed to be, and that voice scored the soundtrack of my infinity. Thank you, Bodine Monet.