The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 5

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 5: May 28th, 2026

States Hiked: New York, Vermont (8 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Capital Area Regional Welcome Center, Crown Point Trail

Distance Hiked: 1.0 miles, 4.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 227 ft

Cumulative Wander: 31.7 miles

Duration: 20m, 1h 33m

I really, really didn't want to get out of the car for a while. 

The skies looked ominous, I wasn't eager to go out in Pennsylvania again with my return imminent, and memories of the last time I headed northeast in the state didn't exactly endear me to traveling there. Former friends who turned out to be liars at the most critical of times, an unfortunate incident at an Arby's, and a lack of any affinity for that show that took place in Scranton, my energy was lacking after sitting through an entire live wrestling show for the first time in a solid 10 years. 

Also the skies grew even more ominous as my trip approached New York. What kind of fraud was I to at least get some steps in at a freaking rest stop with an Adventure Lab? One who sat in traffic near Schenectady and thought, as the opening of Tin Cup would so eloquently remind us, "a little bit is better than nada." And, perhaps, a great philosopher would also proclaim, "sometimes you want the whole enchilada." 

My travels continued into the Adirondacks, and I'm pretty sure I missed the appropriate turn-off to head into Vermont, but the wonderful thing about a wander is that there are no accidental turns when there is no destination. That is precisely what led to my choice of hiking location, albeit on the second attempt. 

The first was a wander up near Ticonderoga, depressing as that area was to drive through unfortunately. The idea of adding a mountain to the wander statistics list was indeed endearing, but the mountain apparently closed at 4:30, as mountains are wont to do. The rocks are always changing, and sometimes a jiggy jaggy hilly boi needs a nappy around the same time as the rowdy folx start storming the Golden Corral for the early bird special. Tale as old as time, song as old as the whole enchilada. 

If there's one thing that can get me to turn around on a dime and go back because I need to go climb it, it is a majestic bridge I've never seen before.

Okay, it's not the one thing. See also: lighthouse, a loon calling, a goth in fishnet, Timeless Toni Storm. 

The sun was near set, a lighthouse was off to the right (so it was a two-fer), and I didn't see a single other person on the bridge or the lovely rustic journey along the ancient fort to the side. Plus, for the second time on this trip, I knocked another state off the list by crossing a bridge and raising the technicality flag for such joyous exploitation of colonial lines and their arbitrary tendencies to accumulate on lists such as this one. 

There were geocaches, there were giant stones that men decorated the hills with, and there was a trail that descended into buggy madness. Not all wandering hikes are glorious, sometimes they're just vague specificities to fit a certain absurd need. 

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 4

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 4: May 27th, 2026

States Hiked: Pennsylvania (6 total so far)

Trails Hiked: The Parking Garage to the Arena and Back

Distance Hiked: 1.9 miles

Elevation Gain: 17 ft

Cumulative Wander: 26.1 miles

Duration: 

Does this technically count as a hike?

Probably not. 

Am I going to make up for the Pennsylvania count on the way back through, since I grew up there and know the spots?

Most likely.

Is anyone but my own dumb head holding me to this arbitrary standard I made up for no other reason than setting ridiculous goals akin to “do the Minnesota Hiking Club in one winter?”

Definitely not. 

But hey, when you're already heading to the east coast, Pennsylvania besties call up and say they have tickets to AEW Dynamite, and your schedule is flexible since the whole point of a wander is having very few actual plans, well… shit got bumped back a few weeks. 

Four years of commuting to Philly for uni must've been a big factor in not having returned there but once in the nine years since I accorded my graduation in case 45 showed up again like the previous year. 

Oh, the sentences one gets to say as a token poor kid at a rich school…

Speaking of Shit Privileged White Kids From Prep Academies Say, a game more popularly known as Rory Gilmore in seasons 1-3, the show was at Temple, and the way those kids reacted when I drove Uber there…

“You went to Temple? It's so dangerous there!”

“I know, I got murdered three times on the way home.”

Five of us packed in for the ride, and what a nostalgia trip it was, only this time I wasn't driving on the roads designed for particularly stately horse carriages and Ben Ftanklin’s ere days of the party bus prototypes. Essentially cuddling with my new friend as three of us sat in the backseat, the conversations and whimsy was in full effect. 

The “hike” was walking from the parking garage to the venue and back, but when one is dressed like chick Darby Allin in vinyl shorts, fishnet, and the quality makeup of a professional dominatrix goth who also officiates weddings as Crow-era Sting, the standards of difficulty are alerted appropriately. 

The show itself was tremendous, but more fun was watching my four carpool cuddle buddies experience their first live wrestling show, unlike this moderately jaded fuck who told stories about the show in Philly 20 years ago where I slept on a marble dorm room floor (oh to be young again), melted in the sun while hoping that LiveJournal friend (Google it, kids) showed up with the tickets he promised, and actively enjoyed the Philly crowd special called “We Don't Care Who Wins As Long As John Cena Loses.”

The true wander was about to begin, but calling an audible to keep a five-year-old promise to go to their first show with my favorite people beats upholding the roles I made up myself every time. I was going to get plenty of hiking in. This was an opportunity that only happens once, and I'll pay my own late fees by doing a difficult Pennsylvania hike on the way back.

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 3

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 3: May 26th, 2026

States Hiked: Michigan, Indiana, Ohio (5 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Riverview Park (Niles, Michigan), Loon Lake Reserve (Angola, Indiana), Wauseon, Ohio (Adventure Labs)

Distance Hiked: 1.8 miles, 1.0 miles, 4.3 miles

Elevation Gain: 43 ft., 52 ft., 69 ft.

Cumulative Wander: 24.3 miles

Duration: 3h 12m

I could've picked up Illinois on the list, but after driving into Chicago on Memorial Day and spending 20 minutes trying to get one block (because what's the best place to stand around on Memorial Day, the middle of the street is the best place to stand around on Memorial Day, because something something the troops freedom sad face?), I opted to yeet myself from the state rather than try to figure out where in the concrete jungle I should go while also hoping I'd escape the worst of Tuesday morning rush hour.

Turns out, anywhere in Chicago would've been better than Niles, Michigan. 

I spoke in Flint in 2017, and it was a transformative experience in my life. That not withstanding, I am an Ohio native and come from several generations of Buckeyes, and even though I don't care about sports nearly as much as I used to, crossing that state border still makes me feel like some kind of traitor, even knowing that states are irrelevant, arbitrary, invisible colonial lines. Then again, I'm tallying up said lines, so maybe I'm the problem. 

The roads immediately upon crossing into Michigan start feeling like they're going to punish you and your poor decision making for daring to enter. I only picked this place because it was close to the Indiana Turnpike, and I wanted to make the cameo brief while checking it off the list. All three hikes today were shorter than my standards normally allow, but I needed to make Pennsylvania at a reasonable hour. 

Then I got called a "dumb fuck" for daring to get in the way of a mediocre white guy while he was jogging. Slight overreaction for a momentary inconvenience, gosh Chad LaRue, what are you gonna do when someone gives you a real problem like stopping for a red light when you didn't want to? Second thought, bad idea, you'd probably blow out a tire accelerating your F-150 through one of those intersections at some dangerous speed like 30. Fuck your face, douchebag. 

After my bad mood of that hike, which had a cool bridge and little else, Indiana was a temptation to skip. After all, the most amusing thing in Indiana is normally the Bill Engvall billboard near the Ohio border advertising a show that happened in... ::checks sign:: 20-goddamn-18. Here's your sign, indeed. But once I checked the AllTrails map near Angola and saw something called Loon Lake, well... Loon Whore, thy name is me. It was a tick-infested nothing of a trail, but it checked the list.

Wauseon, Ohio had a bunch of Adventure Labs... for some reason. But it's emblematic of the reason I love to randomly wander: cool old buildings, amazing pink house, mural of magicians, repurposed train depot, and a bunch of Geocaching finds to approach my monthly goal. I still don't know how to pronounce your name, Wauseon, but you're an all-star... at least compared with Niles, Michigan. Extremely low bar to clear, but alas, cleared nonetheless.

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.