Superior Hiking Trail - Introduction to the next Wanderloon Travel Series

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to logistics and other reasons, mainly fire-related, I was not able to complete the SHT this summer, so while I will be sharing the parts I did complete, this will not be a finished series this year.

Superior Hiking Trail

Introduction

Once I finished the Minnesota Hiking Club (and the Passport Club the next day), I spent a solid month just chasing those precious "Verified Complete" badges on my AllTrails account. For a while, it was nice to just pick a random place and go from there, and it was a relief to be able to focus on birding and Geocaching (or Adventure Labs... Mostly Adventure Labs). But, Autism Brain thrives much better with a focus, a goal, a map to highlight, and something active to pursue. 

Within weeks of the Hiking Club's conclusion, I was losing my grip a bit. I mostly stopped traveling, as the four thousand miles I'd driven in the final span of the speedrun wore me down for a while. Then, there was a planned long-distance hike with my friend K, and given that I did the entire Minnesota Hiking Club as a solo hiker (because who else was going out in the -17 weather with me?), I was thrilled to have a companion, and we were both equally joyous over hiking with someone who could keep up with each other for long distances. We did the Prairie and Deer Valley Loop, a 15.5 trek through Afton State Park. 

Now, I know you're asking, did I enjoy that one more than the ho-hum ice dance I did on their Hiking Club trail? The answer to that question is very well a definite... maybe. 

While waiting for those verified complete badges to come through, as well as through the many conversations I had with K, an old, familiar urge reignited my professional wandering spirit. An urge that involved long distances, blazes on trees, and an odd sense of home that I felt for a tiny section of a familiar trail far before I even knew what hiking was; the Appalachian Trail was calling to me. 

I'd talked myself out of that dream many times. Not that I didn't think I could do the hike or find a way to make it work with time and finance, that was never the issue. Sleeping outside and using the woods as a bathroom though? For all the skills and other outdoorsy characteristics I'd pursued and gained on my own, those had yet to envelop me. Growing up right next to the AT though, walking around on that small branch of it when kids were still allowed to leave the yard without parents being arrested for negligence, something about it just ached in my soul. 

That brought my thoughts back to a more local pursuit, one that I could reasonably challenge without the necessity of sleeping outside or taking months off work: the Superior Hiking Trail. The blue blazes not only greeted me warmly on the North Shore Hiking Club runs, but I'd tried small sections the previous summer without realizing how remote and rugged it was. 

Now, with those six sections of map just begging to be highlighted, I had my new active focus. 

Superior Hiking Trail: You're next! 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited - Afton State Park

 

Afton State Park

Date Hiked: April 12th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Prairie and Deer Valley Loop

Distance Hiked: 16.7 miles

Elevation Gain: 1801 feet

Duration: 5h 49m

This is one of the few hikes for which I can say someone joined me.

My friend, I'll call them K, had followed me on AllTrails for quite a while, and we'd exchanged comments and stories, yet never quite seemed to run into each other at the same time. Finally, we planned a hike in advance, as they were heading to Colorado soon and needed a training hike for the elevation gain. They were hoping someone could keep up with them for an intense, long hike, specifically choosing the Prairie and Deer Valley Loop trail at Afton State Park, which is rated as one of the best and most difficult single day hikes in Minnesota. This would be my first trail labeled as Hard on the difficulty settings, and I was more than delighted to have a companion.

We met early in the morning on April 12th, which was going to be an unseasonably warm day on a weekend, and I'd warned K that the parking lot would fill up fast and we'd need to get started before the trails were flooded with tourists and casuals. K and I had never met before, yet we were instantly friends within minutes of setting out. Most of the time on hikes I don't speak a word. On this hike, I don't think either of us stopped speaking the entire time, and K was delightful company. I'm so grateful they invited me on this journey. We're both used to the phrase "I can't keep up with you," and we know how to meet people where they are. But, being that we're also both avid, frequent hikers, this was one where we were able to say "hardest trail, long distance, let's fucking go." And we did.

The trail starts off at the same place the Hiking Club one does, but instead of turning onto the prairie walk, it disappears way out in the woods. While driving into Afton gives you an idea of the scale of this park, nothing truly captures its massive size than the trail that seems to reach every corner of its boundaries. Shaped like Marge Simpson midway through bowling the 7th frame, making the right turns in several places would be difficult on its own, but K and I were so caught up in our conversation that we wandered off course more than once. Given that I spoke fewer words than parks I hiked for the Hiking Club journey, this was a delightful surprise for which I was not registering a complaint. I don't have many people that can keep up with my hiking speed and distance, and there aren't many people with whom I can carry an hours-long conversation either. This was pleasant serendipity in more ways than one. Sometimes you just know your people when you meet them. 

The Hiking Club trail at Afton is an appetizer for the many this one intersects. The 2 miles can't compare to the 16.7 mile sojourn, but it enticed me! 

Minnesota Hiking Club #1 - Cascade River State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#1 - Cascade River State Park

Date Hiked: January 4th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Tettegouche State Park, Temperance River State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.42

I woke up feeling dangerous. 

Of course my number one-ranked hike was going to be in the January 4th trilogy. I told you all along what that day's hikes meant, beyond the Hiking Club accomplishments themselves, but to me as a person overcoming ridiculously loud demons trying to destroy me from within. 

Is this technically a mountain? By Minnesota standards, I suppose it is. By Washington standards? It's a nice hill, but don't mistake that comparative analysis for being an easy climb. I could easily say that I climbed a nice hill, but instead I'm going to say this:

I climbed a fucking ice mountain in a -20 polar vortex after two strenuous hikes already that day! Fight me! 

614 feet of elevation gain can be hard, but imagine doing it on pure ice. 3.2 miles can be difficult, but imagine doing it when the temperatures are low enough to merit severe weather advisories. The weather could get doppelgänger Cooper'd for all I cared, it didn't stop me. I'm not saying it was a smart decision, but I did it. 

I pulled up in the parking lot at 3pm. Sunset was at 4:30pm, and the estimated time of completion was 1 hour, 30 minutes. No time for rest. And there's no way the temperature didn't drop even lower by the time I finished. I have no problem putting myself over for how difficult this was on even an experienced hiker like myself. I made it to Lookout Mountain as the sun was beginning to set, knowing I'd have an intense descent over rough terrain and a less-maintained trail. I still took a few minutes to vibe and take in the views of the Big Lake and the forest. Even with that, I made it down in time. Barely, but I did. 7 minutes to spare, to be exact.

By this time, my knees were swollen from the three hikes with considerable elevation gain, my skin hated me for the exposure to temperatures comparable to the location of the Edmund Fitzgerald in its current condition, and I had updated precisely no one on my activities so they couldn't talk me out of it.

Instead of filling them in right away, I made the drive to my favorite small town, Grand Marais. Like this park I'm sure, probably filled with tourists and hoards of people when the weather is good, I instead got to take in a Grand Marais sunset with only a few others.   

What I'd just done, at Cascade River and on that day, was dangerous, ill-advised, and unnecessary. But, if you've gathered nothing else from these 67 stories: 

Doing things the hard way, alone, without help, and without telling someone the danger I was in is who I am as a person, for better and worse. 

I am E.A. Moon, the Wanderloon. 

I love you. You know who you are. 

Sorry I didn't tell you until afterward. 

But...

Seriously...

Would you expect anything different from me?

NOTE: This piece was written on April 11th, 2025, concluding this series more than three months before the every-other-day posts will reach this entry So, if you need further proof of the "who I am as a person" claim, note that I wrote about the Hiking Club the same way that I did the club itself: faster than anyone needed to in a way nobody asked me to do, but I worked so far ahead for no other reason than I could and I chose to.

Minnesota Hiking Club #2 - Whitewater State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#2 - Whitewater State Park

Date Hiked: January 6th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Carley State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.33

You only get 2.2 miles credit for this hike? That can't be right. 

Before starting this hike, I was in the unique position of seeing an office not only open, but staffed. The information and dioramas inside are awesome and really give you a feel for the area's landscape and wildlife. The wonderfully friendly ranger working there advised me that the trail shouldn't have much ice. Even the sign entering the trail warns you that the difficulty is considerable. 

Then, something that would've been near impossible a day or two earlier, I had to carefully step over concrete blocks in the river to cross. On ice two days ago, that would've been sick. Then, the trail goes straight incline the whole way up, but the quality of the trail was greatly increased due to the lack of ice. The demons were still rampaging in my mind, despite my "woke up feeling dangerous" trilogy two days before. But, maybe peering out over the heights of the bluffs gave me a little more unexpected boldness, both in hiking and personal interaction. Instead of reading too much into a message I got where I normally would've, I instead chose to believe the words I was given. With a mind prone to running wild and filling in the blanks with the worst of possibilities, this was not only something I was choosing to do in order to avoid consequences or self-initiated spirals, but because therapy was beginning to work and I chose to believe someone I love when they said so. I know this is incredibly vague, but trust me when I say that it was a transformative act for a worrisome person prone to paranoia in the unspoken like myself. 

It doesn't matter what came before, I've felt pain and I wanted more, I'm not settled until I've done it all and right...

Overcoming giant ass bluffs is just like silencing the mean voices in your head that conjure paranoid thought spirals that aren't there; it's extremely hard to do at first, but the more times you train, to take things one step at a time, to breathe, to believe what someone tells you, to trust your footing, to build up the endurance for when things get difficult, the payoff is worth the trials and tribulation of the fight. Trekking up that hill is a bitch, but seeing the rest of the park from atop the rocky bluffs would be impossible without putting in the work to do that without fear, same as it is to trust someone rather than allow the worst trauma of your mind to convince you that someone who loves you actually hates your guts and doesn't give a shit. You can't do it without practice, failure, hard times, wanting to give up, and times of strain on others and yourself, but to use a cliche that I nonetheless mean: 

You got this. 

Seeing a trail labeled "difficult" a year earlier might've made me reconsider. 

I got this. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #3 - Glacial Lakes State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#3 - Glacial Lakes State Park

Date Hiked: February 25th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: None

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.33

What do you hear, Starbuck (Minnesota)?

Nothin' but the rain, Sir. 

I could've unwisely attempted this hike after I felt the air at Monson Lake drop 20 degrees in a few minutes, but then I wouldn't have had this life-changing moment of solitude. 

I experienced all four seasons in a single 5-mile hike, though a confusing sign led me to add an extra mile along a ridge that was not part of the Hiking Club trail. I could've looked at my AllTrails map, but I was lost in the spectrum of joy that I couldn't yet explain. Starting off climbing an icy hill, it gave way to mud that was much harder through which to trek in ice spikes, and the ice melted enough to be running water by the time I finished off the stem before the loop. The autumn vibes of crunching leaves were still present in later wooded areas, but the summer on my skin commenced at the pinnacle of this Hiking Club trail in ways that are difficult to truly communicate. I have it on video, but as I have chosen to remain anonymous for this series, I won't be sharing that part of it here.

I don't know why. It could've just as easily been any hike, but giant brown rolling hills, the geography of glacial lakes past and present, splendorous views of the rurality below, or maybe I was finally seeing the light in my soul after midnight crested over my heaviest of tears, but it happened nonetheless.

I could've been mad about all the dog shit on the trail, which I guess people just leave when it's cold because that makes it okay. I could've compared the glacial potholes to those of Taylor's Falls and lamented the lack of rocky riverside ridges. I could've even been annoyed by how hard it was to pull my spikes out of incredibly soft, spongy mud.

Instead, I let me out. The real me. The E.A. Moon hidden behind the foggy night. Fluorescent joy and eccentric movements, skipping along the path without a care in the world, ripping my shirt off in the sun and unleashing unfiltered joy from the aerial position atop the crest while only wearing a sports bra. I was fearless as Kara Thrace, shameless and joyous all the same, refusing to take the shitty hand dealt to me and (metaphorically) punching my alleged superior right in the fuck rather than bend to its demands of conforming and toning it down. 

I didn't see a single person along this hike, and perhaps many chose other places to spend this unseasonably warm day. That's fine, the only people I wanted to see were far away. That's why I recorded the unfiltered elation of the real E.A. Moon leaving the foggy clouds behind for them to see. Glacial Lakes State Park was transformative, atop a land geographically transformed by glaciers retreating. 

My spiritual handcuffs of restrictive ice were also forced into retreat. 

No regrets. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #4 - Blue Mounds State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#4 - Blue Mounds State Park

Date Hiked: February 11th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Split Rock Creek State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.33

Tied for the longest (official) Hiking Club trail with several others, I was already distressed and troubled. Kindness saved the day from making it even worse, as you'll have read in my Split Rock Creek essay, but I couldn't have predicted the kind of epiphanic hike would befall me in the least expected of places. 

I mean, I could've hired Karl Weathers for any PR issues, but he did shake Reagan's hand after all the trash he talked under his breath. Keeping your eye out for Hanzee Dent is key to staying alive, for you never know where the Butcher of Luverne is going to pop up. Ed and Peggy were at home being useless, as usual. Lou and Hank were with Betsy and Molly for supper by the time I got there. I did have a knife to stab Dodd right in the shoulder if I got the chance, but alas, stupidity lives. (If you haven't seen the second season of Fargo, just trust that the location of this park is relevant to the story.)

A slow ascent over a massive hill, where there's allegedly bison nearby doing buffalo stuff, and the flat lands below emerge beneath the ridge on which you walk. Snow-covered majesty and land stretching miles beneath the mesa-esque traverse, the Blue Mounds Hiking Club trail gives the feeling of being on top of the world, isolated for miles, and protected from the things that ail you for a little while. Not the cold or the wind, but the aches and pains of the soul that linger long after the worst of it makes its full impact, sometimes you just gotta go stand on some cool ass rocks and let the world be beneath you. 

The mounds of the blue variety stand out, especially in the white landscape of winter's doldrums. Stacked ridges and unexpected prairie panoramas decorate the elevated position, reminiscent of a giant palanquin over the lands that are covered in wildflowers and and pear cacti at times where the temperature isn't cursed by a minus. Still as a snapshot, the wind numbing my hands even as they're covered in gloves, the dread of driving from Luverne to the Twin Cities on a spare looming back in the parking lot, I took the time to instead rejoice in the magnificence and kindness I'd been given on a day that could've just as easily been wrecked and unproductive. 

It isn't an easy Hiking Club trail. It's long like Myre-Big Island but not as flat. There's elevation gain, but nothing nearing the difficulty of similar-length Beaver Creek Valley. There are majestic views, without a tower to climb like Sibley. There's no lighthouse at the end like Split Rock Lighthouse. And yet, on a day where no human would be advised to hike on the prairie, and under circumstances where turning back would be understandable and forgiven, I instead chose to finish my second hike of the day just as darkness fell. 

I'm so glad I did. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #5 - Jay Cooke State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#5 - Jay Cooke State Park

Date Hiked: March 8th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: George C. Manitou State Park, St. Croix State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.33

As the notes of "Out of Time" by Kalax played through my halo headphones, I crossed the amazing bridge over jagged rocks and snow-covered ridges to the Jay Cooke State Park Hiking Club trail. My longest hike ever, 22 miles on the nearby Munger Trail, had taken me by this park before, but at a time where I was... to put it generously... detached from reality. 

Do you know, do you know, time is running out for me and you, so what you gonna do?

Cool. Ass. Rocks. The Swinging Bridge was a moment all on its own, highlighting Silver Creek flowing underneath the ice. The weather was incredibly nice, but I got there early enough that the crowds hadn't yet swarmed this obviously popular weekend destination. By the time I finished, that would no longer be the case. 

Just take my hand, may I have this dance tonight? Just take a chance, before we run out of time.

My mind was full, and not just with calculations of how to finish the Hiking Club before my self-imposed arbitrary deadline looming two weeks in the future. An extremely traumatic event had shook me to my core, and I lay with a decision to be made at this point in my life: retreat back into the shell, fold myself up, and fade away. Or. Turn up the volume, live my life out loud, and stop trying to be who everyone else wanted me to be? A box I never wanted, or the person who skips on a trail and sings in the rain?

This one moment, that only comes once in a life. Let's fall in love before we run out of time.

3.5 miles along the Silver Creek, over crunchy ice, in the deep woods, and along rocky ridges, my mind wasn't truly taking in and appreciating the splendor with which I was blessed at a time with no hoards of people swarming around, the person I've always been remained protected in the fog as I tried desperately to know what was the right thing to do. I had love in my life, that was not the problem. But at this point, I wasn't 20 anymore and didn't have all the time in the world to stall, settle, and wait for the chance to do what my heart overwhelmingly wanted. 

Do you know, do you know, just how hard it is to play it cool and numb with you? I love the way moonlight passes on your summer dress and prettier shine from the darkness, only you. Just take my hand... 

Would I ever have the chance again? Would life ever present a better opportunity to break the mold? To embrace the chance, to dance before I ran out of time? It would be so easy to hide, to put the mask back on. Would I make up my mind?

Just take a chance, before we run out of time.

Well, you're reading this story right now, aren't you? 

Minnesota Hiking Club #6 - Beaver Creek Valley State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#6 - Beaver Creek Valley State Park

Date Hiked: February 7th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Forestville/Mystery Cave State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.25

I always accidentally call it Beaver Valley Creek State Park, including in typing out the title of this post. I'm still not totally sure I picked the right one. 

What an adventure this park is, I can't emphasize that enough.

Turning off roads that look like they go places, one descends out of cell phone signal into a valley of the Beaver Creek variety for this majestic splendor of a state park. Like some of the other parks in the southeastern portion of Minnesota, it reminded me of growing up in the Appalachians. And, much like hikes through the famous trail can be deceivingly difficult without massive peaks like Colorado or Washington, this Hiking Club trail will test your skills and endurance at any time of year. 

At first, it doesn't seem that bad. The first three miles are a mostly flat walk in the woods along the creek as the ridges and bluffs surround the trail. "This doesn't seem like it'll have over 700 feet of elevation gain," you might think. "Why is this rated moderate difficulty?" might also cross your mind. If you do it in that order, anyway, as the trail is split into two portions separated by a road. "This trail isn't gonna take over two hours, I'm more than halfway done!" Just wait. 

Crossing the aforementioned road to the second section of the Hiking Club trail, after a little bend toward the bluffs, a narrow path leading almost straight up is the next objective. I didn't even have snow to contend with, but with the ridge being covered in brown, dead leaves, slipping on something wasn't entirely out of the question. With no one else in the park and no cell signal, that could've been disastrous. Tread carefully.

Once higher up in the bluffs, the trail doesn't get easier. It is narrow, barely wide enough for one person. On the left: rocks and the remaining wall of a hill. On the right: forest on extremely steep grade, and the picture can't quite capture the degree. It is not a simple stroll, the difficulty of this section more than earns all the miles on this trail without even considering the other half. 

Making things even dicier, at the time of my hike, there was a bridge that cut off the path for the official Hiking Club trail, thus necessitating going straight down the bluffs, and because I did indeed want the password for this trek, I had to find a place to immediately climb back up. Without detour signs indicating such, I pushed myself back up another ridge. 

Nerd note: I saw this narrow path with extremely steep descent on both sides, and my only thought was "to the bridge of Khazad-dum!" 

I didn't have a balrog chasing me, but the Fellowship theme playing through my head was a nice little push to finish the trail, despite utter exhaustion. Another descent, then a Washingtonian excursion over some mossy rocks, and Beaver Creek Valley earns S-tier status. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #7 - Split Rock Lighthouse State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#7 - Split Rock Lighthouse State Park

Date Hiked: December 22nd, 2024

Other Hikes That Day: Gooseberry Falls State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.25

Lighthouses are a special interest. I wrote an entire play about being a lighthouse keeper, so this trail was already going to be high in the rankings by default. But this was a magical journey, despite the conditions, that I will never forget. 

Obviously, since I wrote about Gooseberry Falls being the first stop in this series, and that was on the same day, Split Rock Lighthouse State Park was the second stamp and password I acquired. It's easy to say that I spoiled myself with these first two, but I figured starting at an iconic place with which I was already familiar would be a good way to kickstart the respective clubs, and I wasn't even thinking in terms of a speedrun yet. 

Do not let the popularity of this state park fool you into thinking this is an easy hike. It is not.

I'd hiked most of this entire trail before I knew I could get credit for it. But that was a day where I walked on pavement and grass, a day where I could feel my face and saw other people. The only person I saw on this day was finishing as I was getting started, and I asked how the ice was. A practical question, considering I'd just finished realizing how high those cliffs at Gooseberry were, and they said it wasn't too bad. I was still naive enough to think that trekking poles would be enough to keep me upright, and for the most part, they were. 

But this path is long, even without the ice factor. It's among the longest of the Hiking Club, and while it's not exactly Manitou or Cascade River, there are many smaller hills and a staircase to climb (or descend, depending on the direction.) With no spikes, I slipped many times, but on one particularly steep hill, I was unable to stop the fall and landed on my ass. Fortunately, little more than my pride was injured, and knowing how to fall correctly turned out to be a tremendous, unexpected advantage of doing the Hiking Club in the winter. It also motivated me to get ice spikes immediately. 

This Hiking Club trail incorporates part of the Gichee Gumee paved biking path, then disappears into the wilderness near the ghost town of Splitrock where the only remaining evidence of its existence are posts of a dock still sticking out in the water. From there, the trail follows the shore of the Big Lake, weaving through old sights, both preserved and otherwise. But, even as photographed and cliche as it may be, I briefly went off the trail to appreciate the tremendous spectacle of the legendary Split Rock Lighthouse at winter twilight the day after solstice. The colors in that photograph don't do justice to the majesty I saw, and any difficulty returning to my car was worth that moment in time. 

I was a little less lonely for a while, and in that moment I swear...

I felt...

Infinite. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #8 - Judge C.R. Magney State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#8 - Judge C.R. Magney State Park

Date Hiked: February 15th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Grand Portage State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.17

"I can't believe you thought that was an appropriate thing to ask!" 

Not how I would've normally expected to start out a top-ten hike essay, but despite how amazing this place is, even all this time later, I can't escape the prevailing incredulity I felt while I was there. I mentioned it in the Grand Portage essay, and I'll elaborate further here. 

But first, the park itself. After several attempts ere to start with Grand Portage and work my way down, there were only three North Shore parks left, and reading the reviews of George C. Manitou made that one feel unadvised. That turned out to be a good decision, given how it went a month later after more warmer temperatures, but I digress. Grand Portage and Magney were left, and they were very far away. Magney was closer, and even that took going through Grand Marais to get there. Whatever, it was that holiday weekend I don't care about, but the loneliness factor was getting to me, so I drove very, very far away to go on a hike and forget about life for a while. 

The straight couples did not allow me to do that. 

I don't blame them for being there. It was a nice day for February near Canada. The hills in the snow are picturesque, there's a kettle waterfall, it's a long way up and a long way back down, then back over again on the return. Maybe it's just the avid hiker in me annoyed with non-avid hikers unfairly, but when the trail is a very narrow path carved out of the snow, perhaps one selfie and not 38 would be sufficient? There are courtesies on the trail, even for tourists who aren't hikers, but not standing in the way while people are waiting to get around seems like it'd be among them. 

I don't seek out conversation. I'm originally from the east coast, but I've at least put on the mask to play the part out here in the Midwest. A brief, formulaic exchange with one person in one of these couples transpired, it was fine, commented on my trekking poles and how they should get some, but then this person asked, "so, couldn't get a date this year, huh?"

Granted, I was the only solo hiker. Everyone I encountered, which was a lot compared to most of this speedrun, seemed to be in a couple. I have special people. They were other places, like the ocean. The far northeastern tip of Minnesota is... not the ocean. I was trying to get away from that void. I didn't care about the day itself, I just missed them terribly. 

But what in the blue Minnesota Nice Hell made someone think that was an appropriate thing to ask a person? I'm not single, but even with the other factors, what if they didn't also feel like driving five hours, hiking steep slopes in the snow, and walking out on a frozen river to see a waterfall? 

This trail was snowy awesomeness, I should've remembered more about that. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #9 - Banning State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#9 - Banning State Park

Date Hiked: January 31st, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Moose Lake State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.17

The autistic special interest trap nets me a higher score yet again! Regardless, Banning State Park is really freaking cool! 

Excuse me one moment though... ABANDONED BUILDINGS! STACKS OF GIANT ROCKS! ABANDONED MINING STUFF! COOL BRIDGES! ... Okay, we now return to your regularly scheduled programming. 

Somehow it was t-shirt weather at the end of January. I certainly wasn't going to complain. Both Moose Lake and Banning are right off the 35, or at least a lot closer than the signs for William O'Brien and Wild River would have you believe. Banning is a massive state park that has its own little journey just to get to the appropriate area for the Hiking Club trail, and the snow drifts in the beginning weren't to last.

It's an odd route of intersecting trails, more than one of which I want to go back and do all on their own. Hiking Club appetizer sampler tray, you got me again. You know what you're doing. The loop itself looks like a flimsy axe in the middle of being bendy flung like a javelin. Does that make sense? Are you expecting it to this deep in the list? That's on you then. 

The trail goes from a standard Hiking Club trail trope of a walk in the woods, but descends into a skinny out-and-back trip through an old quarry. They could've gotten rid of all this stuff. There are plenty of parks built on repurposed areas that don't have evidence or cool things left from what it used to be. Not the Banning State Park's Hiking Club trail! It goes right next to the cut-out rock faces. Then there are stacks of rocks the size of glacial erratics just hanging out on top of each other. There's old equipment around. There's a massive shell of an abandoned building. There's probably even more of which I would've taken a million pictures and sent them to someone specifically had I not been in a speedrun. It was date night after all. 

This place has that undefinable quality of off-the-charts vibe, and yes I'm heavily biased because they're the vibes I specifically wanted that were enhanced by my subjective ranking system, but show me a travel writer who isn't more excited about the things they like. Throw in neurodivergent giddiness, and I am unapologetically geeking out over abandoned shit that also gives you a badass hike by the river. I make absolutely zero apologies to anyone who has a problem with unfiltered happiness. I call myself the damn Wanderloon, are you expecting a transcript of an informational brochure? I'll just be over here, skipping and posing like Toni Storm on the bridge. Watch for the SHOEEEEEEEE! I'm ready for my close-up, get the abandoned quarry as my backdrop. Dramatic pose, and.... Scene. (Yes, I absolutely did a Toni Storm dramatic pose on a bridge on this hike and there's nothing you can do about it. That's who I am as a person.)

Banning State Park is absolutely amazing.

Minnesota Hiking Club #10 - William O'Brien State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#10 - William O'Brien State Park

Date Hiked: March 14th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Wild River State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.17

We're leaving together, but still it's farewell. 

The last hike of the Minnesota Hiking Club Trail. #67 of 67 (sequence, not ranking, obviously). The 73rd stamp (I had to come back the next day to finish my book with St. Croix Islands, because the office was closed. Of course it was closed). 16th Hiking Club trail in a week. 

Apparently my limit is 15.5.

I say once again that nobody made me do this. Nobody challenged me to do the entire Hiking Club in a single winter. Nobody told me that I had to finish before March 21st. I did that on my own. 

And maybe we'll come back to Earth, who can tell?

Most of these hikes, I did in weather that had negative number temperatures, or at least the wind chill made it feel as such. I was not prepared for 70+ degrees, but conversely, that's why I chose to get it done on this day. No good weather goes unpunished in Minnesota, and while it was 72 degrees as I was hiking this trail, by the next morning it would be half that, and I know because I hiked 8 more miles without planning to at this very state park after getting the aforementioned final stamp. 

I guess there is no one to blame, we're leaving ground, will things ever be the same again?

The final mile count of 191.7, which didn't seem high on the surface, as in October of 2024 I hiked 175 miles. But all of these trails were pre-determined, passwords were needed, and temperatures plummeted (not this day, but mostly). This was an accomplishment, even if nobody else knew or cared, and even if I'd never write about it (Ha.) I did the Hiking Club, start to finish, in 82 days. December 22nd, 2024 to March 14th, 2025. Nobody could ever take that away from me. 

But, holy shit this place was crowded, and holy shit I was not used to hiking in the heat. That's different than hiking in the cold, and I paid for it exceptionally.

William O'Brien State Park, the best of the St. Croix line; its Hiking Club trail covers everything from forested walks to crossing railroad tracks. While I'd never downrate the trail itself for being muddy... I've said many times: it's MARCH in MINNESOTA, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?! ... But the wooded areas of the trail were so incredibly muddy that I had to tiptoe through something even more slippery than the tulips. Even still, my pants were covered in mud up past the shin. 

I turned too early for the rise, and wound up bushwhacking instead of turning back around. By the time I reached the summit of the park, I was wiping sweat out of my eyes and too weak to hold my trekking poles. 

It's the Final Countdown!

I still finished. Barely, but I finished. Overheated, dehydrated, exhausted, I finished it. No shortcuts, no excuses. Certified complete, Billy Bries could not stop me. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #11 - Grand Portage State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#11 - Grand Portage State Park

Date Hiked: February 15th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Judge C.R. Magney State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.17

Did I just rank another rest stop state park hike ridiculously high? 

Yep. 

But if you can see a giant frozen waterfall on the border of Canada, are you really going to be blasè about it? If you said yes, you're a stronger person than me. 

Grand Portage State Park, near the Grand Portage of greater historical and cultural context for which I am not equipped to explain or on which to elaborate, is close enough to Canada to yell "yo what's up, eh?" and have someone respond from the other side. Though given the current cultural landscape (upon writing, April 8th, who knows how bad it's gotten by the time this gets posted?) maybe they'd apologize before telling us to go fuck ourselves, and as we nodded and got back into the Cyber Truck equivalent of a country, both in design and likelihood to spontaneously combust, we'd know we deserved it. 

Grand Portage's Hiking Club trail itself is nothing that special, but it's the experience that makes this such a magnanimously regarded trek. It isn't that long, there's not much elevation gain, and even with ice and snow everywhere, it didn't feel that dangerous. But holy shit, is the payoff worth any other factor within this Hiking Club against which it should be ranked? Obviously not, it made it this high. Though I can't help but note that I don't speak of this day with the same reverence of which I lauded the January 4th trilogy, and both of these are ranked higher than two of those three. Sometimes the statistics don't tell the whole story, but that's what this travelogue is there to do in the absence of experiencing it firsthand. 

I won't lie, before I saw those falls, I was annoyed as hell. Not because of the trails, but because during the previous hike at Magney, the trail was littered with non-hiker couples who decided hiking was what they were going to do on Valentine's Day weekend. That of itself is fine, if a bit obnoxious, but the contempt for which they held the only solo hiker there, or so it felt, made me resent all of them, and I'm not even single! 

Make no mistake, I was missing my people hard, and while I was happy for them and what they were doing, this is yet another time I ran far away toward escapism rather than deal with the shit going on in the present. Yet it caught up to me anyway. It always does. I was far better equipped to deal with it than I was on January 4th, but progress isn't always linear and dead demons don't always stay deceased. 

What's there to say about this trail itself? It's barely a hike by any standards, but it's got a giant fuckoff waterfall to pay it off. It's not even really a trail, if we're being fully transparent. But this is my travelogue and my subjective ranking system all the same. Grand Portage is amazing. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #12 - Sibley State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#12 - Sibley State Park

Date Hiked: January 12th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Monson Lake State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.08

Just because I beat my demons' asses on January 4th didn't mean they were gone, but it did mean I had an advantage on them this time around. 

Sibley State Park's Hiking Club trail would've been a journey all on its own, but instead I spent half of it wrestling with trauma and coming out in an unexpected victory that I hadn't counted on  that morning. 

Traversing the prairie into the mystical woods of Sibley State Park, I set out in the snow and immersed myself in the silence of the woods, fresh fallen snow crunching under my every step. The rapid decrease in temperature hadn't happened yet and the trees protected me from the icy winds. The hills were rough and plentiful, my spikes gripping into the grade with all the hope in the world relying on them to hold so I didn't have an unexpected sledding journey. I never wanted a Rosebud, but more importantly, I never wanted to be Rosebud either. 

Along the way, something was said over my phone that could've resulted in a disaster from an emotional standpoint. And, at first, I let it start to fester. My brain wanted me to put it down and ignore the fire that stirred because of a misunderstood exchange. Something that bothered me took a spark and fanned it with flames that the Me of even several months prior would've dwelled on, allowed myself to be consumed by, and kept it in silence rather than assertively and calmly treating the situation with the care and deference it deserved while simultaneously hiking a small prairie mountain in a cold where my fingers shouldn't have been exposed to type the words. I hadn't woke up feeling dangerous, necessarily, but by the end of the trail, what could've been a distance-exacerbated, text-based conflict rather reached a copacetic conclusion that made me feel like we'd both grown with each other and worked something out rather than fall back on old habits and allow the spectres of our past to retain dominion over our behavior. 

Even if I hadn't gone through that during the hike, this would've still been ranked incredibly high on the list. This Hiking Club trail is freaking awesome, and I never would've expected it in this area of the state. I have no idea what it's like without the snow, cold, and solitude: the only other person I saw the entire time was someone working there to clear the parking lot. It was barely over 0, it's a longer trail, it has nearly 400 feet of elevation gain, and the snow made traversing that grade harder. 

I began this writing series to talk about Hiking Club trails, but I conquered more than the completion of a Hiking Club at an unusual pace and setting. I went out for passwords and stamps, but I really found the real E.A. Moon lurking in those snow drifts. 

I started wearing pants again, and I think I like the way they fit. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #13 - Temperance River State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#13 - Temperance River State Park

Date Hiked: January 4th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Tettegouche State Park, Cascade River State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.08

Hey, let's pick up right where we left off, except this is where shit gets real. 

I put on my ice spikes for the first time, figuring it out from the vague and confusing instruction graphic. I'd never used them before and I picked a hell of a day and park to hope like hell that they worked. After doing the world's coldest Slip 'N' Slide over Tettegouche State Park's Hiking Club trail, Temperance River State Park loomed ominously right off the 61, and it was clear from the parking lot that I either had to decide if I wanted to play golf or fuck around. 

This trail is a shade over two miles, but don't let that deceive you into thinking this is a quick trek, even without a polar vortex and enough ice to make you think the glaciers haven't actually retreated. There's over 200 feet of elevation gain, but there's a difference between going uphill and climbing steps carved out of smooth volcanic rock ancient river bed, next to an active river with a waterfall that's carved out of  the stone over a hundred feet straight down. One slip and you're suddenly part of the scenery. "There's the frozen waterfall, here's where a waterfall once was, there's an awkward hiker frozen in place who fucked around and found out during a polar vortex on a trail with dangerously smooth volcanic rock, steep elevation, and was 100 percent covered in ice." I once again reiterate that I'm not saying this was a good or wise decision, but I woke up feeling dangerous. I probably made it even more dangerous because I didn't tell my people what I was doing, but that was part of the process. They were all doing things with their people, and I had a feeling they'd try to talk me out of it, whether for the temperature, ice, or any other factor that went into it, and I didn't want them to have the chance. I didn't want to be talked out of it, and I didn't want them worrying about me, or thinking about me at all while I was doing this. This was my confrontation with the demons inside my head, and I gave them a double bird and told them where they could go and what they could do. 

This Hiking Club trail is goddamn majestic. Its two-plus miles feel like an ice-induced transformation, starting and finishing next to a frozen waterfall deep within jagged rock, going back and sampling a bit of that sweet Superior Hiking Trail goodness, and then descending steps nearly straight down, covered in several inches of ice, just waiting for the opportunity to teach you the error of your ways. 

I told my people what I did only after this day's hikes were done. I still had one to go, and it would be the hardest one of the three. I woke up feeling dangerous, and my demons got their asses kicked. 

My challenge: I won. 

Minnesota Hiking Club #14 - Tettegouche State Park

 

Minnesota Hiking Club

#14 - Tettegouche State Park

Date Hiked: January 4th, 2025

Other Hikes That Day: Temperance River State Park, Cascade River State Park

Wanderloon Ranking System Score: 4.08

It's finally here: The oft-aforementioned, life-changing, epiphanic trilogy of January 4th hikes that I haven't stopped yammering about since commencing this ranked list of the Minnesota Hiking Club's trails, and the "lowest" one is ranked 14/67. Buckle up, bitches! We're in for a wild ride on these three! 

This is the day that the Hiking Club went from an excuse to get outside and do a thing to a moment in which I had the choice of folding up, letting my demons and trauma get the better of me, and fading into the mist like a fog on the big lake upon the morning sun... or... to quote Baker Mayfield, "I woke up feeling dangerous." 

Dangerous this was, make no mistake about that whatsoever. I was not in my right mind. The New Year's Day trilogy of hikes detailed this, but January 4th is where it went from a distraction to a mission, and I cannot reiterate enough that I'm not saying this was entirely a good thing, nor would I say I recommend it, at least in this fashion. 

To further elaborate, it wasn't just cold, it was cold for Northern Minnesota. It was -17 without the wind chill, and that was just at the start. This was the first hike of the three that day, and it was partially because by the time I'd gotten up there, if I tried to go the whole way to Grand Portage, I may not have had the time to do anything else. I was hurting, my brain was making the worst of everything, my separation anxiety was at its height, and instead of spiraling into a dangerous puddle of instability, I ventured out into dangerous levels of cold, ice thick enough to do damage to any creature, and the joys/dangers of solitude in a place that is normally overrun with people when frostbite isn't a major concern.

Tettegouche State Park's Hiking Club trail is comparable to Gooseberry Falls State Park's, and not just because of its free parking and rest stop nature. It's on dangerous, jagged cliffs, and the short distance is deceiving, even if you're not treading over thick layers of ice on volcanic rock on steep elevation gains in temperatures that would make someone from the dark side of Saturn ask what the hell you were doing there. 

I did this trail without my ice spikes. When the trail started off being paved, I didn't think it'd be necessary. Within the short distance of this trek to Shovel Point, you go up, down, back up, back down, along the side, step on up, head back again, "oh shit, if I slip on that ice I'm unintentionally shipwreck diving on the coldest day of the year," I can't feel my face, "I've gotta climb all those stairs," holy shit, "what decisions in my life brought me to this point in time?" and then you have to go back. 

I made a bad decision, and it changed my life.