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.