Not What I Expected
On September 20th, five of us hiked the Great Marsh Trails in Indiana Dunes National Park which is not to be confused with Indiana Dunes State Park. In 2019 the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore was re-designated a National Park. This fact plus others was not what I expected to learn on this hike. I had foolishly never considered how wealth and politics (local and federal) have shaped the wealth of our public lands. Without Aaron Montgomery Ward Chicago’s Grant Park would have certainly succumbed to commercial development. Without Edward Warren, Warren Dunes State Park and Warren Woods may have been privatized.
The Great Marsh Trail also had twists and turns in its history unlike the straight right and left pathway that we took through it. A natural interdunal wetland, it was drained in the early 20th century for agricultural and residential purposes. Imagine a great subdivision of properties with left and right streets. As we walked along the narrow, mosquito-free trail, we saw, under our feet, blocks of concrete bricks. In 1927, a Chicago developer bought 3000 acres for what would be Beverly Shores. He sold them to his brother who began to create streets and homes, five of which were in the World’s Fair and still stand as tourist attractions. Then came the famous Wall Street crash. Acreage was neglected until 1998 when the National Park Service began restoring it. Now a thriving wetland, the Great Marsh trails are a famous habitat for breeding and migrating birds.
We did not see many birds although we heard them. On the observation deck overlooking the marsh, we saw a few swans, but what we saw was not what I expected. In fact, neither was the trip. It almost got cancelled. Pat, our fearless leader, and I stood in the rain near the trailhead. We were the first two there. It thundered. “We should cancel this,” Pat said. “Or we could go it alone.” I must have looked forlorn. I had traveled for an hour, and I wasn’t in the mood to get back in the car. We almost headed out when several cars drove up. A few minutes later, the rain stopped. After all, it was mid-September in Michigan where it either pours for hours, pours for minutes and then sputters out or rains off and on.
We headed along the trail, greeted by a host of not merely daffodils as Wordsworth saw, but a host of wildflowers. First, there was the profusion of goldenrod which, I learned, exists in over 100 U.S. species including the flat-top goldenrod (pointed out by Pat) plus the wetland’s swamp goldenrod. White and purple asters were abundant along with the purplish-pink Sweet Joe-Pye weed, the scarlet-red cardinal flower that loves moist to rich soil, the white-flowered common boneset, and the clematis virginiana or virgin’s bower. In September, its seed heads look like tufts of falling hair (most notable in female plants). Then there was the touch-me-not or jewelweed with its wonderfully orange flowers. We were explained how this plant got its two names: the first because its explosive seed capsules burst open when touched—we were too early in the season for that—and second because the watery stems and leaves are adorned with dew that looks like individual, sparkling diamonds.
To the right and left of us grew cottonwood and a few ash trees that had somehow survived the ash bore and the invasive autumn olive. We spied two dragonflies vertically lying on a tree trunk that made us wonder: Is one eating the other or are they mating? So many questions. So much beauty not to mention the fact that makes me even more cautious in my yard. While Virginia creeper has five leaves and isn’t poisonous, and poison ivy has three leaves, the latter’s leaves are varied: smooth or not, with different shapes and colors.
All in all, this venture was not at all what I expected and quite beautiful! If you live close by, visit. It’s worth it. If you need to travel a distance, it’s also worth it.