A walk in the park
An open afternoon sends me off to Lake Maria State Park, a few miles west of Monticello. The park is about 1600 acres of woods, lakes, ponds and marshland, and on this particular Tuesday I share it with practically no one, aside from the resident wildlife. A few years back we’d rented a camper cabin on the north side, but I wanted to go back and walk the trails to the south, which include backpacker sites dotted here and there, and a small lake suitable for paddling.
With a sky peeking sun and a threat of rain, heading down the trail under the density of spring leaf gives a clear sense of early evening. It’s not even three. The air is warm and maybe eighty, thick enough with humidity to breathe in moisture, but comfortable. After awhile, the trail opens up and Bjorkland Lake appears. Birds flitting about the marshland glance at me, categorize my presence as insignificant, and go back to their business. They’re apparently in the business of flitting.
Bjorkland is a small lake, a slough in many quarters, with little accessible shoreline. A few state-rentable canoes are racked beside a broken and partly submerged small dock; its clear that this remote part of the park gets less attention when budgets are slim. And in this era, slim budgets are the norm for Minnesota parks.
I spend a half hour or so near the marshes of Bjorkland, scouting another campsite as clouds darken to the west. Then the low grumble of thunder moves me back up the Big Woods Loop.
The trail runs under a stand of mixed and old-growth hardwoods, granting a brief hint of Wright County as it was 150 years ago, before settlement and agricultural clear-cutting altered the landscape.
The rain comes, reasonably heavy, but I walk another half-mile under the canopy of these old maple, basswood and oak, with scarcely a drop reaching me.
Back at the trailhead, the skies open up and let me have it. Even so, when I stop to dig for car keys, there’s no hurry.
Before leaving the park, I drive up the road to Lake Maria proper. While vacant today as well, this is the area that draws the most attention, with a picnic area, interpretive trail, open shoreline and boat launch.
Near the launch my path is blocked by a wandering turtle. Lake Maria State Park is well-known for it’s rare Blanding’s turtles, but this is a the far more common painted turtle.
I get out to see what he’s up to, and he scurries off in the other direction. The turtle doesn’t seem to care where he’s going, so long as it’s away from me. I follow him(him?) up a little slope and find another painted turtle, this one in the process of digging a nest. She’s wary of me as well, but is near finished with her hole - a flask-shaped dig where she’ll drop and then bury her eggs - and is not about to bail until her work is done. I find myself questioning her choice of locale, so near to a lot of foot-traffic and even truck traffic, given some of the lame driving habits that occur at boat launches. Later on, I’ll read that sandy slopes with southern sun exposure are preferred nesting sites, and this spot fits that description to a tee. If the incubation temp lingers near 84 degrees, the offspring will be of mixed gender. Colder and they’ll all be males, warmer and they’ll all be females. Go figure.