(Belated) Adventures in Camping - Elephant Rocks, Taum Sauk, and Johnson's Shut-Ins

Note: This post is a joint post by Andrew and Erin. Andrew will introduce the post and give his impression of some of the places we visited on our camping trip, and Erin will join in the middle to talk about her hike at Taum Sauk State Park..

[Andrew]
For me, the second weekend in August was a chance to do something different. After several weekends spent in Wisconsin's glacially molded terrain and the beautiful north woods, bogs, and rock formations of the UP of Michigan. However, this weekend he'd be going the other direction, south to the St. Francois Mountains in the Ozarks of Missouri. The rocks, animals, and plants would be different. Unfortunately, so would the climate.

However, the most important thing about this trip was that I would not be doing it alone. Although I was curious to check out Elephant Rocks, Johnson's Shut-Ins, and the views atop the St. Francois Mountains, my main reason for the trip was to visit with my sister. The last time we had camped out did not go so well, so I was hoping this time would be better.

Adventures in Camping - Table Rock Lake

You know you're going camping with a good coupla people when the first thing you do, gearing up for the four hour car ride, is blast "On the Open Road" from a Goofy Movie.

Yes, a couple of coworkers and I were headed four hours south of St. Louis to Table Rock Lake in Southern Missouri, where we hoped to have a relaxing weekend filled with camping, scuba diving, and s'mores. We'd spent the last couple weeks planning this adventure and couldn't be more excited - the days at work leading up to the big trip were spent with high fives and random shouts of "WE'RE GOING CAMPING!". No WAY our other coworkers could have been annoyed.

Hiking Training Plan, Week #8 Recap

Week: August 5 - August 12 (8 days)
Miles Hiked (Week): 7.25
Miles Hiked (Month): 8.25
Miles Hiked, (Month Goal): 15
Miles Hiked (Yearly Total): 33.30
Pounds Lost (Week): 2.6
Pounds Lost (Total): 20.2
Nights Camped (Week): 1
Nights Camped (Total): 3
Nights Camped (Backpacking): 0

So after a down weekend last week, I got back on track with a fun weekend in the St. Francois Mountains southwest of St. Louis with Erin. None of the hikes were too strenuous (I bowed out on the Mina Sauk Falls trail once it started getting too rocky), although there were a few climbs. It was interesting how much better I took those inclines than I would have two months ago. It appears the daily uphill walks up the ramps at the parking garage at work have paid off. The picture above is one of the rocks that give Elephant Rocks its name.

Because I didn't get back from the trip until mid-morning on Monday, this week was one day longer than normal. Having eaten breakfast and a couple snacks before getting back up to my apartment, it didn't make sense to weigh in then. As such, the upcoming week will be one day shorter. I'm going to try to keep up the progress, but this upcoming weekend may cause a temporary setback, seeing as I'm taking a trip for my birthday that will involve very little hiking. As long as I get back to it next Monday, I'm not too worried.

As you can see, I've added some additional statistics. This includes the number of nights I've camped out since starting my hiking training plan. Counting this past Saturday at Silver Mines Campground in Mark Twain National Forest, that brings it up to three nights for the year. I've yet to do a backpacking hike, but my goal is at least one or two nights before winter. Stay tuned for more details about that trip, when it happens.

A Little Piece of Swampy Heaven

To celebrate Andrew's and I's Wetlands Week, I'm going to gush on reason #532381 that I love the Saint Louis Zoo: the Cypress Swamp (or, Erin's Thinkin' Place).

The 1904 World's Fair Flight Cage is the one of only two standing structures left from the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (yes, it's true! The World's Fair Pavilion in Forest Park wasn't built until 1910. The Art Museum is actually the other building). The people of St. Louis loved the aviary so much that it was purchased from the Smithsonian and handed over to the Saint Louis Zoological Society (which was, and still is, municipal supported) and became one of the cornerstones of the Zoo as it is today.

Saint Louis Zoo

In 2004, the walk through aviary received a major facelift and became the Cypress Swamp. Missouri and Southern Illinois are part of the Mississippi delta and boast some of the most beautiful wetlands in the United States; the Cypress Swamp is a beautiful ambassador to the majesty of these rapidly declining wetlands.

The thing is, before people realized wetlands were really great at keeping upland places dry and biodiverse, they were basically seen as mosquito factories with no applicable value (a detrimental thought process that proved to be a huge mistake on Florida's part, which I'll write about later this week!). However, because wetlands are great places for nutrients to gather as groundwater gets recycled, when drained the land becomes excellent farmland with nutrient-rich soil. As agrarian as the Midwest (and North America in general) is, one can see how it is that wetlands themselves are on the verge of extinction. 

Today we know so much more about the necessity, both inherent and applicable, of watersheds and wetlands and yet the public perception surrounding the importance of these places still has a long way to go. The Cypress Swamp is an excellent retreat as well as an essential educational tool.

Boasting a variety of  native Facultative (can do equally well with or without water innundation), Obligate (must be inundated at least part of the year), and Upland (don't do so hot being submerged) plants, the Cypress Swamp greets you as an oasis of green. Upon entering, the sights, sounds, and smells of a Cypress Wetland surround zoo visitors while various North American native birds go about their business in the aviary.

Egrets, Ibis, Green Herons, Night Herons, Canvasback, Ruddy, and Wood ducks are just some of the birds encountered swimming in the water, walking on the boardwalk, or watching from the trees. One of my favorite species of bird, the Double Crested Cormorant, even has a few locals taking up residence. It's amazing how many people living in Missouri and Southern Illinois had no idea that these interesting birds lived in the area - often I hear "are they from Africa?" or they assume these came from China, where other species of cormorants call home. The three cormies in the Swamp have especially big personalities and are found most often sitting near (or on!) the boardwalk as if they themselves are just passing through on a leisurely visit. 

By far, the most colorful birds in the Cypress Swamp are the Roseate Spoonbills. Although only found once in a blue moon in the Midwest, these pink birds are very common in southern wetlands. I remember being excited at seeing one in the wild when I moved to Tampa for college - previously, I had only seen them at the Zoo! The Spoonbills are probably one of the best named birds (can you see why?). They use their spoon-like bills to scoop up aquatic insects, crustaceans, and small fish from shallow water and gain their pink plumage the same way flamingos do - caratenoids from their diet. Currently, there is a pair nesting in the Swamp. The morning is my favorite time to be in the Swamp - the birds are active, the shade is plentiful, and the air is cool. It's a very peaceful time and maybe one of the most serene experiences found at the Zoo. 

Of course, 16 or so species of birds and various species of plants an ecosystem does not make. To compensate for the lack of biodiversity within the Cypress Swamp, there are interactive exhibits and signage that weaves a tale of how wetlands provide homes for a variety of different kinds of life. Pressing a hand to a sign, one can hear the call of a Bald Eagle, or feel the heat generated by a patch of Skunk Cabbage, find a Swamp Rabbit, or watch an Alligator Snapping Turtle blow bubbles in the water (not adequately represented: the fact that they facilitate oxygen through their cloaca, i.e, breathe out their butt). The Cypress Swamp wouldn't live up to its name if it didn't represent the pneumataphores (knees) of cypress trees sticking up out of the water (these knees help plants, like cypress and mangroves, to take in oxygen despite being rooted underwater). There's a soft groundspace to stand on, where one can feel what a wetland's soil is like standing on top of. It's kind of bouncy because the soil is so inundated. And the smell! The smell of wet, decaying plant matter, although offensive to some, is earthy and refreshing to me. 

People think I'm crazy that a swamp - one of those icky, nasty, bug filled stink factories - is one of my favorite places to be, but really I'm just simulating the experience of the grandeur of a real swamp until the time comes when I have the time and income to explore the wild wetlands of the world myself. I love educating people about the importance of wetlands* and I urge, for my sake, for your sake, for the sake of these beautiful, mysterious, and oh-so important ecosystems, that you go out and explore a swamp as soon as possible. Take pictures. Wade in the muck. Look for birds, and mammals, and dragonflies, and try to figure out which plants need to live in water and which ones don't. Explore. And if you can't do that, you're always welcome to visit me at the Zoo. You know where to find me. 

* There is another part of the Zoo, on River's Edge, that is supposed to be a Missouri Ozark cabin. It talks about the importance of wetlands and how flooding can be alleviated by wetlands (which act as a natural sponge for rainwater and flooding), but rarely is used to its full potential. It's on my to-do list.

Nature and City Livin' - a Nighttime Observation

I just cannot keep myself together. THIS week, since I got off-topic last week and talked about animals and weather, was going to be about wetlands. Then I got depressed because I spent my day off job searching, as my zoo job will be coming to an end in a couple short months. You know what I need? I need to go outside.

That's why I'm sitting on the "balcony" of the second floor overlooking the street - sure, it's not green space, and the sun has gone down, but in the distance I can see the last bit of sunset dimming in the horizon. Frogs, cicadas, and crickets are making a spectacular chorus, and my street has lots of trees on it - I can see the outline of the trunks and leaves in the dark. A bat just flew over my head, and there's a cool breeze courtesy of this very lovely weather we've been having recently in St. Louis. I can even see a few stars shining in the sky. Even in the middle of the city, I'm surrounded by those comforting sounds and smells and sensations of nature.

It's easy to forget that these urban areas are ecosystems all in their own. My roommate hates the squirrels that come into the yard and eat the garden, and he is irked by the carpenter bees that have made homes in his deck (and I promise, that pollinator post IS coming!). I'm tempted to put a bird feeder in the backyard, but then I'd just be adding to a local food chain -attracting cats and hawks and all sorts of things that would very much like to eat the buffet of song birds caught off guard.

Ironically, my neighbors, who probably are drinking wine on their balcony enjoying the night ambiance, are probably more than a little annoyed at the fact that I've come outside and am illuminating the space 20 feet away from them with the light from my lap-top and the incessant "tick-a-tap-tick" of my typing. Sorry, neighbors. I'm just enjoying the grandeur of our little urban paradise in my own way.

Quiet, introspective moments like these are one of my favorite things in life to experience. It's also a good time to remind myself that life is a balance of progress and natural order - that if I want to maintain these comfortable, small segments of time and experience them again, I need to bring that balance to my own life. Recycle, conserve, observe, enjoy the awe of the little things that make this so very urban and yet so...so... Midwest (and I say that in the most loving way possible) all at once. And I love that St. Louis seems dedicated to maintaining this balance, as well. Community gardens are not uncommon, at least in this neck of the city, and the Zoo and Botanical Gardens are two of the top attractions (as well as major players in conservation and education, of course). Many of the neighborhoods are old but look like they're straight out of 1903. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside - the history, the nature, the progress, even the work that still needs to be done -it all adds up to this beautiful evening that I'm writing about now.

So what if the 757 flying overhead on its way to Lambert Airport harmonizes with the choir of frogs? Of course it isn't a perfect balance yet, but in this moment, on my balcony, it's pretty close.

It's hot and I wish I had ossicones (or at least a pool)

For my first post back at Walk With Nature, I was going to talk about the importance of pollinators. I've really grown to love our backyard friends, especially the little understood native bee species that help our gardens and fields look amazing and grow amazing food.

However, I became sidetracked last night about 5 sentences in and then today I was flat out too hot to do anything worthwhile on the internet. For someone who loves the outdoors and nature as much as I do, I was ready to curl into a ball in the freezer and curse the sun for the blazing hot madness that is the inside of my apartment. I believe the heat index hit around 105 today.

I know what you're saying. "But Erin! You went to college in central Florida! You've spent many summers in the Midwest! At least its not a drought like it was last year!". You, my protesting friend, are absolutely correct. That doesn't change the fact that when it gets really hot, it gets miserable.

Do you know what kangaroos do to cope with the extreme heat of the Australian Outback? Other than being primarily active at night, they spit on their forearms and rub that spit on their faces, then face the wind and as the spit evaporates, it cools them (much like sweat does, only without the gross part where it secretes from all over your body). They're already built for that heat, though - it can get to be 120 degrees in the Outback. At my job, we simulate the 'roo experience by having kids put "kangaroo spit" on their hands and hold them up to the breeze. Think it might smell like hand sanitizer? Well, now you know where hand sanitizer comes from.

We are not kangaroos. Nor are we camels. Camels have specialized blood cells that are more oval as opposed to our own circular ones. That means they can have adequate blood flow even when substantially dehydrated because their red blood cells are streamlined even when the vessel is constricted. We totally can't do that. I feel like I would do a lot better in the heat if I knew I had some leeway before, you know, death.

Sadly, we don't have ossicones like giraffes, either. You know, those little horn thingies on their heads that may help with thermoregulation (because they actually have blood flow through them). Too hot? Just pump that nonsense right out of your permanent doodle-boppers.

Ultimately, it's those privileged few who have the luxury of accessing a swimming pool that really stay cool during the blistering heat. You don't even have to swim; just stand there and enjoy the shade. One thing does bother me, though; do tigers wrinkle if left in the water too long? With a heat index of 105 degrees, it doesn't really matter. I don't think I'd EVER leave. Unless, of course, I was sharing my pool with a tiger. Then I'd feel as though I've overstayed my welcome. Better yet for our tigre amigo? He doesn't even have to get out to get himself a nice cold tasty drink.

No, sadly, I do not have any of these things at my disposal. Sweating is just the worst because it smells awful on top of being uncomfortable - really, ossicones were the way to go, I think. Which is why I'm sitting in a dark room, drinking frozen cucumber water (since we don't have an ice maker and I have used up the completely frozen ice in the ice tray) and lamenting what feels like an inevitable fiery-yet-humid death.

I know I'm being a bit melodramatic; hey, at least I'm not out on the trail, right?

I have absolutely no experience with heat when it comes to camping; somehow, all of my misadventures in the wilderness involving temperature are with cold weather (refer back to Grand Canyon camping 2012). I'll have to do some research into how to stay cool during a particularly warm night on the trail.

Andrew and I are going camping in Southern Missouri next month, and then a week after that some of my coworkers and I will be camping. It'll be a good way to find out how, exactly, one doesn't sweat to death over night. Since hiking the Appalachian Trail is still on our to-do list, I think this is the kind of knowledge that REALLY matters. Stay tuned for part 2 (coming after said camping adventures) where I discuss what I've learned.

Here'a picture of a totes relaxed kangaroo, just rubbing in the fact that he can tolerate the weather better than myself (who, from his point of view, probably looks like some poor human who has succumbed to some sort of sweaty zombie-ism). Stay cool, everyone!