Minnesota State Parks Revisited: St. Croix State Park

 

St. Croix State Park

Date Hiked: October 3rd, 2025

Trail Hiked: St. Johns Road and Crooked Creek Trail

Distance Hiked: 11.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 361 ft.

Duration: 3:18:09

That's a goddamn bear. 

It's hard to make anything else relevant about this hike. I had a near-miss with a giant black bear named Joshua, and that's probably the most paranoid I've ever been, and considering I once took a stroll on the Superior Hiking Trail after partaking in a seldom-used vice, that's saying something. 

In continuing my quest to hike the longest trail in every Minnesota State Park, this was one where AllTrails likely didn't help things. The Hiking Club trail was there, and several others were mapped out, but this one technically came up as the longest, so that's the one I did. Unfortunately, after a bit on the prairie trail, it let out on a gravel road and stayed there for several miles. The entire time I was heading out to the Crooked Creek Trail, I got a very real glance at how huge and remote this state park is. The fall colors were lovely, but walking along a road dotted with giant piles of droppings (spoiler alert) wasn't exactly what I had in mind when seeking this challenge. 

When the trail finally left the road and onto what I'm guessing is a snowmobile trail, it didn't get much better but at least it was an actual trail, albeit overgrown and relatively unremarkable. Right as I was about to hit the final loop though, I had an overwhelming instinct to bail and get the hell out of there. Whether this is connected to what transpired later or not, who knows, but I can't tell the story of this hike without that. The only place I'd seen people, other than one car passing by, was at the campground. It felt desolate as hell.

Several miles down the gravel road on the return trip, I saw the top of what I thought was a horse at first gently gliding across the road a few hundred feet in front of me. I thought it was a horse because of the massive size, but a few more steps revealed the biggest black bear I'd ever seen. I had nothing with which to defend myself, not even my trekking poles, as with the predicted elevation gain, I didn't think I'd be needing them. I started to walk backwards the other way, but the map showed there was no other way to get back to the visitor's center, so after giving it a few minutes, I proceeded.

Every bird, every rustle, every squirrel made me more terrified, and it must've shown. I say that because a few minutes later, a pickup truck with park rangers in it drove by me on the road. Cursing myself for not stopping them and asking for help, I glided across the gravel hoping Smokey wouldn't be giving me a lecture on forest fires this day. Fortunately for me, my distress must've been obvious, because the rangers came back and asked if I needed a ride because of Joshua the Bear. 

They saved the day, and I'm grateful.

Superior Hiking Trail #1-14 - Hartley Nature Center to Martin Rd.

 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 1 - Section 14

Hartley Nature Center to Martin Rd. 

Date Hiked: May 4th, 2025

Other Sections Hiked That Day: Map 1 - Section 12, Map 1 - Section 13

I didn't know it yet, but this was a sign that I wasn't going to enjoy Map 2 nearly as much as the first. 

After leaving Hartley Nature Center, making the decision to not get back in my car from there and instead venture further, perhaps with some notion of determined completionism that is both a blessing and a curse. Most of what I loved about this trail to this point became less abundant, instead replaced by trail with less maintenance, overgrowth, road crossings with confusing entry points, and high brown grass from trails for snowmobiles. 

Knowing what I do about the history of this trail and when it extended farther south, having this be the link between the original southern terminus and the non-concrete portion of Duluth, it made some sense. Still, in retrospect, I wasn't going to enjoy Map 2. The glorious views and rugged elevation gain were no longer a feature. It's also considerable that I was already a good distance into my hike that day, which followed up on a heavy hiking day on the 3rd, so I was more tired than usual. Still, bushwhacking was not on my list of goals for this hike.

I don't know which road crossing it was, but it wasn't clear where the trail picked back up. I thought perhaps this section was meant to be a bit more rough, or that the overgrowth hadn't been cleared, as it was spring. Turns out, I just wasn't on the actual trail, and therefore was crunching through the woods rather than being on the trail itself. Even with the help of AllTrails, that wasn't clear, and it was further compounded by the signs for private property. By the time I got to Martin Rd., I was not only irritated, but walking along the side of a moderately busy road to get back seemed more appealing than the three miles I'd just traversed. Good decision or not, that's what I decided to do. 

A colleague of mine told me a few days after this hike that Martin Rd. was a spot of some car break-ins reported recently, the other being Ely's Peak, and I can see why. Despite being on a major road, it is out of view, surrounded by trees, and the shared space with a snowmobile trail begins here, but since it was early May, no snow on the ground meant very little traffic. Ely's Peak, I'm guessing, is more for it being a touristy spot in a rather remote area. Then again, this is the same place where transient people existing is enough of an issue for a warning, so I don't know what to make of it. 

It's going to be difficult to write about Map 2, so maybe I'll cover that all in one or two essays rather than the divided sections as I've been avidly penning them so far. This isn't meant to discourage anyone from doing the entire thru-hike, but merely my reflection of comparative sections. 

Epic Hikes of Washington State: Introduction

 

Epic Hikes of Washington State

Introduction

Do I ever leave the state of Minnesota, where elevation gain outside of the Iron Range is something more likely to be found on a Stairmaster than the terrain? 

As it turns out, yes, and not just because I'm incredible at making terrible life decisions, but at least I left with some wonderful hiking stories amidst the chaos.

While it would be easy enough to continue writing essays of my experiences with Minnesota State Parks and the Superior Hiking Trail, I would be remiss if I ignored the misadventures of my glorious mistakes in the summer of 2025, the context for which I'll leave in the unmentioned portion of the stories. Let's just say that, despite my best intentions, I always end up learning the most painful of lessons the hard way, and while I may still be digging myself out of those fatal errors of reason, I still find myself wanting to write about the one thing at which I didn't fail on a considerable level: my Washington state hikes. 

Despite my Discover Pass now gathering dust in my glove box, I pushed myself to considerable new heights and limits during my summer in western Washington. Though I was collapsing from within on a loop of sadness normally reserved for watching my Cleveland Browns attempt to play the game of football on Sundays, all of my previous hiking records were shattered in grand fashion in the process, so at least I have some cool photos and verified complete badges as a consolation prize. 

I don't have to tell anyone who would be reading a hiking travelogue that Washington state is in a league of its own for choice and grandeur. Even the lower-rated adventures still dominate the proverbial landscape better than the best of many other states in the union. I got to experience many, but not nearly enough, of them over the weeks of my stay in a tiny apartment I never should've rented in a place I never should've tried to live near people who never felt the way I did about them, but at least when my boots hit the quickly-elevating trail system, I could forget about that gaping wound in my heart for a little while. 

Unlike my other two series, this one will not follow any particular system or sequential sections of a trail, and even though I will still be continuing those adjacent to these one-off pieces, there are too many hikes I completed in this small window of time that I can no longer leave on the shelf. For instance, in one weekend, I shattered all my records with two hikes in two days. One was the highest point and most elevation gain (by over a thousand feet) that I'd ever made, and the very next day, I completed my longest and farthest, because I am amazing at balancing rest and recuperation with my numerous quests for statistics and photographic opportunities. 

I love hiking in Washington. Unfortunately, Washington doesn't love me back. 

Superior Hiking Trail #1-13 - Rose Garden Trailhead to Hartley Nature Center

 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 1 - Section 13

Rose Garden Trailhead to Hartley Nature Center

Date Hiked: May 4th, 2025

Other Sections Hiked That Day: Map 1 - Section 12, Map 1 - Section 14

The concrete sidewalk ascent after the Rose Garden, despite its incline, is quite the welcome reprieve after the alleged nature trail takes a long detour in the land of the paved and concrete. Duluth's ability to be authentically urban but to immediately transform into a seemingly quarantined nature oasis is uncanny. Once the sidewalk climb turns into the Chester Creek trail, it's hard to remember that these two places are so closely linked with each other. 

Chester Creek is such a magnificent delight, I was amazed this was the first I'd heard of it. Duluth is filled with so many epic views and wonderful excursions that it's easy to get lost in the shuffle, but even amongst Duluth's best, this stands out. A rocky climb next to a pretty raging waterfall, it's hard to believe that roads run mere feet from the idyllic setting. That's Duluth though, managing to balance the two with acceptable levels of separation. 

Keeping with the theme of quick hitter transformations, Chester Creek gives way to the campus of the University of Minnesota-Duluth, which was bittersweet for me. I attended the campus for a cup of coffee in my first attempt at grad school before the second one led me to my degree, and I only left due to complicated financial difficulties that couldn't be solved. Being the first time I'd been back since that devastating, costly mistake, I once again recalled why the urge to attend that campus was so strong, despite the main branch being a few miles away in the Twin Cities metro: the views down the road that most likely take for granted are invigorating and awe-inspiring, no matter how many times one gazes down toward the Gitchee-Gumi from an elevated perspective. There's even a lovely scenic view in the woods shortly after the campus traverse, and given the amount of cans and charred remains of healthy snacks for the 20-year-old soul, it can't be dampened with the smell of stale beer and regret lingering in the empty forest. 

Just as quickly once again, the campus trails give way to a street crossing leading toward the Hartley Nature Center, where my car tempted me to cut short the Section 1 conclusion. I'd visited Hartley once before in the winter of 2024, but this time was different in ways that had little to do with the weather. In that winter adventure pursuing the Adventure Lab finds, the fog was thicker than the worst of Silent Hill during a Pyramidhead encounter, and nothing sealed that vibe like the horn of a freighter cutting through the thickness like a warning shot. On this lovely spring day, no vibes of giant threatening swords were even a wisp of a threat, so the only terrifying presence of evil lay in the mosquitos and ticks just waiting for the moment to strike. I think I'd prefer giant Pointy-Head McGee and his impractical blade of doom rather than those blood-sucking monsters. 

I dismissed the opportunity to stop at Hartley.

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Frontenac State Park

 

Frontenac State Park

Date Hiked: September 19th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Bluffside Trail, Pleasant Valley Lakelet Prairie, Lower Bluff Trail, Lake Pepin Overlook Loop, Prairie Loop, Villa Maria Loop

Distance Hiked: 10.3 miles

Elevation Gain: 984 ft. 

Duration: 3h 43m

It's weird how a nine month differential can be such a polar opposite experience, but that's Minnesota for ya. 

In January of 2025 as I was speedrunning my apocalyptic snow trudge depression crash totally meant to distract myself from the void that was a mere one-sided longing for the impossible, I'd climbed through the Hiking Club trail in a haze almost as thick as the fog that covered the lake overlook. Nine months later, in a state of elation and contentment, the overwhelming energy to get the verified complete badge on as many of Frontenac's trails as possible was only matched by the silence where Mean Brain once reigned supreme. 

Starting along the prairie route was a choice, mostly getting the relatively bland portion of the park behind me before I started exploring the edges of autumn in the bluffs, but as far as prairie trails go, it isn't bad. There's a little lakeside and the Villa Maria Loop to knock off another badge in a short diversion. But then, once the trail begins to escalate and the mosquitos become every horror movie villain contained in a bloodsucking parasite, shit gets real in a hurry in the best of ways. 

Even after spending a good portion of the summer hiking/climbing mountains in Washington state, it's readily apparent that the bluff trails at Frontenac are no joke. Initially climbing through the woods, being swarmed by lingering spider webs like Shelob is around the corner and you're about to be a tasty glowy snack, the elevated lake view of Pepin gives a small reprieve before the real descent. Wooden stairs in a dampened and creaky state lead one along the Lower Bluffs like a hilarious test of walking diagonally. The amount of downed trees covering a trail with blazes everywhere indicating some kind of race would be transpiring in the near future only slightly made me fear for the number of three letter knee tears that would commence should they not be removed. While wintertime provides Jupiter conditions but no leaves to obstruct the views, late September gives leaf canopy obstruction but no ice on which to slip into a Pepin-sized oblivion before trekking poles even attempt to regain some semblance of balance. 

Frontenac doesn't have the distant planet dystopian vibe of, say, Lake Bronson in the winter, but there's still something ethereal about it. Nestled between Red Wing and Lake City, which in the summer are overrun with tourists and vehicle traffic, Frontenac stands out like the educated but quiet friend who doesn't leave the island often and is completely content with the solitude. On a weekend of lovely weather and pristine conditions, I encountered maybe three people the entire time, including one who informed me they got all the spiderwebs out of the way for me. Oh, how the aspiration motivated me through the steep ascent back to the non-steep trails. Silky arachnid origami projects dancing around my sensitive skin, I was relieved, as it could've been much worse. 

Minnesota State Parks Revisited: Interstate State Park

 

Interstate State Park

Date Hiked: June 19th, 2025, September 8th, 2025,  September 24th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Walter F. Mondale River Trail, Railroad Trail Loop, Swedish Immigrant Trail, Sandstone Bluffs Trail, St. Croix River Lookout, Glacial Pothole and Ice Age Trail, Summit Rock Trail, Lake of the Dalles, Eagle Peak, Skyline, and Ice Age Loop

Distance Hiked: 13.8 miles, 5.9 miles, 9.0 miles

Elevation Gain: 1089 feet, 778 feet, 968 feet

Duration: 4h 19m, 2h 19m, 3h 24m

I've visited Interstate Park three different times since the Hiking Club speedrun. It's one of the best within reasonable driving distance of the metro, and with enough interest and intent, it's easy enough to go across a short bridge and explore what the Wisconsin side has to offer as well. Interstate, you say? So it's not just a clever name. 

While I've done the Hiking Club trail from the office area to the pothole trail numerous times, it's the easiest way to get to the others, especially when wanting to accumulate miles, elevation gain, and a good warmup for trying not to slip on very smooth rocks. These three adventures could not have come at more diametrically-opposed times in my personal life, though to be fair the latter two in September might as well be the same hike in terms of trail diversity and intent, but that's not really the point. 

When one is an introvert and looking to avoid massive crowds and trail tourists, the best time to get somewhere like Interstate State Park in late June is barely after sunrise. The parking spots are still available and the trails aren't clogged with people randomly stopping and taking 38 selfies while paying no attention to those trying to get around them in a very narrow area. Everyone has the right to be on the trail, but at least show a little etiquette, that shouldn't be too much to ask. Let people pass, pay attention to the surroundings, and maybe one selfie is enough? 

In June, I was in severe distress, and I thought knocking out some verified complete trails might help ease the anxiety. After the first half of the Hiking Club out-and-back, I headed through Taylor's Falls to the Swedish Immigrant trail, which is allegedly part of the park according to AllTrails. I'm honestly not sure if it is or why a small portion of what is clearly a longer bike trail is included in the listings, but hey, it's another verified complete badge to pursue, so add another 8 miles on a day that was hot enough that I wasn't even self-conscious about hiking in only a sports bra on top. Heading back through the Railroad Trail was easy, if clogged, but the Sandstone Bluffs trail after 11 miles on a very hot day is a good way to push the limits. 

September's hikes though, those were more celebrating the lifting of the Sickness, enjoying how happy I've been, and knocking out some of the Wisconsin side. While Minnesota's climbs along tough ridges, Wisconsin's spread out over wider and more diverse landscapes, not to mention some impressive climbs. The only thing more plentiful and annoying than the tourists are the bugs, though. June or September, expect to be brushing spider webs off, slapping mosquitos, and checking for ticks constantly regardless of how much repellent has been deployed. Wisconsin's side also seems to be more open to Geocaching potential, whereas Minnesota's parks are seemingly allergic to the possibility.

  

Superior Hiking Trail #1-12 - Twin Ponds Trailhead to Rose Garden Trailhead

 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 1 - Section 12

Twin Ponds Trailhead to Rose Garden Trailhead

Date Hiked: May 4th, 2025

Other Sections Hiked That Day: Map 1 - Section 13, Map 1 - Section 14

In most cases, I would be moderately annoyed that this is the opposite of a nature trail. The absence of a nature trail. The antithesis of a nature trail. It is not in nature, nor is it an actual trail, except for the very beginning where the website (at the time) was cautioning people over vagabonds in the area. I found that weird, considering that thru-hiking is mostly just vagabonding with a budget, but I also know for whom those warnings are. Regardless, there was evidence of people existing near the end of the descent, and I still managed to survive the whole way to the concrete bridge crossing the highway, so I lived to tell my tale. 

Though this is not a nature trail, as repeatedly mentioned, it's hard to complain when the urban trail portion of this hike goes through Canal Park, by the Aerial Lift Bridge, and along the shore of the big lake. Fortunately for me, it was not between Memorial Day and Labor Day, so moving about without clusters of tourists being oblivious to anyone walking around them was not an issue. I also made use of Lyft, with which is not something I'm usually comfortable, but doing section hikes two days in a row led me to not wanting to waste energy doubling back, so I parked at the Hartley Nature Center and got the ride to the Twin Ponds trailhead, which is something I wish was available for future portions of this travelogue, spoiler alert. 

Duluth is one of my favorite places in the world, and the day was immaculate for photography and hiking. After dodging the construction around the Amsoil Arena, the slip bridge was up, which somehow takes more time to complete its process than the lift bridge, but spending time in Canal Park without the mob while the weather wasn't "biting face off" levels of cold was a unique privilege all the same. 

The recently-revitalized trail along the shore heading toward Fitger's is a lovely upgrade from years past. If there is an advantage to being on a paved section of the trail, it's giving the trekking poles a break and just taking in the scenery, at least before the ascent through the streets in section 13. Sometimes the lake breeze on my face and the calming sound of the lake hitting the rocks on the shore is the perfect place for recharging energy, at least with one long section hike the previous day and more difficulty looming after a walk through the rose garden. Having seen that lake when it decides it's tired of everyone's shit and wants to show off how frail and temporary anything floating on it truly can be, relative placidity makes for a considerably easier pace.

After paying respects to Uncle Harvey and his emblematic representation of poor decision-making, there's a little more of Duluth's urban parks to get through. The remainder of civilization with which to intermingle precedes the lingering emptiness of Section 2. 

 

 

Superior Hiking Trail #1-11 - Haines Road to Twin Ponds Trailhead

 

Superior Hiking Trail

Map 1 - Section 11

Haines Road to Twin Ponds Trailhead

Date Hiked: May 3rd, 2025

Other Sections Hiked That Day: Map 1 - Section 8, Map 1 - Section 9, Map 1 - Section 10

 

Not all miles are created equal. 

 

For example, the 12.5 miles of this hike are not equivalent to the same distance on the nearby Munger trail. While there may be gentle grade on an old railroad trail, it is generally easier to add distance without nearly as much of a strain. This section, these 12.5 miles, had just under 2000 feet of elevation gain. This trail proved wonderful for spending some of my summer hiking mountains in the Pacific Northwest, and that is not hyperbole to say. Most of the state may not be able to provide such practice, but the Superior Hiking Trail be all like "what's that, a hill? What if we went straight up? What mud? Here's a rock, have fun." That is not a complaint, for the record, just an observation. This trail is not for novice hikers. 

 

By the time I reached this section, I was regretting my life decisions. I had a ride waiting to meet me at an undetermined stopping point, and I figured with only a mile and a half to go, I might as well knock out just one more section. What harm could it do, after all? 

 

Sections 8-11 took nearly six hours for me, and I am nothing if not stubborn. On a relatively flat trail, I can usually average 16 minutes a mile speedwise. This hike? It was a 27 average, and if you haven't gathered by now, I am no beginner-level hiker. That is also not a complaint, because I wanted the challenge. I had dreams of hiking Mt. Si as my first (which would happen, but that's for another day), so the Superior Hiking Trail was exactly what I needed to prepare myself. 

 

But I really should've stopped at Haines Road. 

 

I've been spoiled by trails with bathrooms and water fountains. My empty water bottle clanging in my backpack pocket, taunting me with its severe lack of hydration, I was stumbling toward Enger Park, aiming for some arbitrary stopping point based on a now-irrelevant scene from a memory, but alas.

 

One thing that perked me up was the Forgotten Park, as from the Hiking Club trails you'll know that the chance for abandoned photography is always a booster in the point system. Passing a basketball court with a Cthaeh habitat dominating what once was a basketball court made me forget about my zero percent physical battery.