Scrapbook Adventures

Backpacking Iowa Style in the 
Yellow River State Forest

Text and photos by Kip Ladage

 Backpack in Iowa...you must be kidding...it certainly won't be real backpacking!  Those were my thoughts when the idea of backpacking through the Yellow River State Forest in Northeast Iowa was first suggested.  My buddy Darrin and I were looking for a destination near our homes we could use as conditioning for an upcoming hike across the
Great Smoky Mountains.  Although no comparison exists between the Smokies and the Yellow River State Forest, our hike through the Yellow River Forest proved to be much more than either of us expected.

Our trek began with a fact-finding stop at the State Forest Headquarters where we met Bob Honeywell, Area Forester with the Iowa Department of Natural Resources.  Bob has intimate knowledge of the area we were about to enter, and provided us with helpful
insight into which trail would likely offer the features we were looking for.  We were searching primarily for a physically challenging trail designed with rough terrain breaks, with a secondary emphasis on scenic beauty.

Following our impromptu trail strategy planning session, Darrin and I began our trek through the Yellow River State Forest.  We chose to hike 14 miles of the "Backpack Trail," a 25-mile trail designed specifically for backpacking enthusiasts. 

Just minutes down the trail we both noticed a remarkable change in scenery.  The wide, neatly mowed trail we were following quickly transformed to a damp, single track path guiding us up a sharp incline.  Each step upward on the rough terrain was just what we had hoped to find.  It was hard to believe we were in a state forest in Iowa! 

Although the temperature was in the low 70's, both Darrin and I were soon sweating profusely.  As we rested midway up the hillside, we realized why our thighs were pulling so tight.  Instead of a gradual gain in altitude through a series of switchbacks, this trail lead virtually straight up the hillside.  Add an assortment of exposed roots, slippery mud, and a few sizable rocks and our rapid pulse and breathing were understandable.

After only a short time on the trail, I was already reaching for my water bottle.  I was well aware of the need for adequate hydration when exercising, but since I was only backpacking in Iowa, I hadn't packed an extra water bottle.  I was limited to the water in my 26-ounce squeeze bottle and a 32-ounce nalgene bottle to quench my thirst and provide for cooking. 

A disheartening feeling of impending trouble caused a knot to form--what was I going to do for water?  Except for Paint Creek and Little Paint Creek, both miles away, our trail map gave no indication of stream crossings or water sources. 

We hiked on, believing we would need to ration our water by limiting our intake to a minimum.  My water supply would have to last until we reached the intersection of our trail with a trout stream.  Then, as I began considering the sanity of our endeavor, we came upon an unmarked, quiet little stream trickling through the shaded timber. 

Our packs came off and the water filter came out.  After drinking the remaining water from our bottles, we filled them again with the clear, cool water from the stream.

The unexpected, refreshing water revived our enthusiasm as we continued our hike up and down the damp trail through the Yellow River Forest.  With each step the path seemed to be taking us further from civilization, while in reality we were never more than a mile or so from a road. 

From outward appearances, Darrin and I were solitary hikers in the woods, yet we were hardly alone.  Countless tiny frogs and toads jumped from moist depressions evident on most of the winding path.  Colorful butterflies danced from wildflower to wildflower, while birds of the forest greeted us with short chirps.

As we wound our way through the timber, the tell-tale sound of vehicle traffic warned us of an upcoming crossing of a highway cutting through the forest.  Bob Honeywell had suggested an alternate route beginning at this point on the trail--a route that required us to follow the road a short distance instead of the wooded trail.  Unfortunately Darrin and I
chose to take the wooded trail.  What we didn't realize soon became painfully obvious. 

The wooded trail led through a gigantic patch of healthy stinging nettles.  We slipped between the plants as gingerly as we could, but since we were wearing shorts, our efforts were in vain.  By the end of the 1/8-mile long patch of nettles, our legs were burning uncontrollably with bright red welts rising from our thighs to our ankles.  Quick rinses of our treasured drinking water did little to ease the pain. 

In desperation, we hoped the old woods' tale held true: rub nettles-infected skin with the juice of jewelweed and the pain will subside.  Relief was only yards away, we hoped, when we spotted a small patch of jewelweed growing along the trail.  Sure enough, as fastas the onset of pain occurred, it also subsided as the precious juice was spread over our legs. 

Our trek through the Yellow River Forest continued uneventfully for the next several hours.  Up one steep hill and down another. 

As the day grew longer, so too did the hills.  At the top of the hills we enjoyed sweeping views of the Big Paint Campground and sawmill area. 

Even more impressive, from my point of view, was the unusual variety of plants we found growing at the top of the hills.  Colorful orange butterfly weed bloomed among the ordinary green and brown vegetation somehow thriving on the rugged, rocky outcroppings.

We continued hiking, hoping to find the hike-in campsites soon.  Plentiful frogs and toads continued to entertain us on the trail, and in fact were the only wildlife observed until we surprised the wild turkeys. 

I was leading the way when chaos erupted around us.  According to Darrin, I nearly stepped on a young turkey.  Because a hen turkey was feigning injury only 20 feet away, I hadn't noticed the young bird.  As quick as the disturbance began, both birds magically disappeared into the timber.  We both enjoyed the brush with wildlife and wondered why we hadn't seen more.

The Yellow River State Forest is known for its numerous geological formations, and our path led us past one exposed outcropping after another.  Many jagged rock displays were clearly visible in the area of the Little Paint Campground. 

The primitive campground served as an ideal resting area where we again filled our water bottles and enjoyed the picturesque setting.  Cool, clear water from the trout stream reflected the blue, cloud filled sky and the surrounding rock outcroppings.  Wildflowers enhanced the streamside scenery, almost tempting us to spend the night in the campground.   Unfortunately we weren't able to explore much of the rugged beauty of the area since we wanted to reach our campsite before dark. 

Finally, after six hours of strenuous hiking, our maps indicated the campsite was nearby.  What we didn't know was the path required a hike nearly straight up the hillside.  Each step became a stretch from one tree to the next as we pulled ourselves up the hill.  We expected a series of switchbacks, but there were none. 

Our assumption was that the rough terrain and park boundaries simply didn't allow for switchbacks.  Regardless of the reasoning for the trail design, what concerned us more was the appearance of horse tracks on the steepest, most fragile segment of the trail we had encountered. 

Even though signs were posted stating this trail segment was designated as a "hiking-only" trail, somebody somehow coaxed a horse up the hillside.  Our objection wasn't to horses on the trails, but horses on trails clearly marked as hiking only because of their inability to withstand the impact of equestrian traffic.

We reached the top of the steep hill about the same time the sun began setting.  Cooling breezes blew past our faces, but they didn't last long.  Our trail led us away from the open area at the crest of the hill and down into the woods where we were sheltered from the wind and exposed to hungry mosquitoes.  The bugs posed little problems though, since we knew we would soon reach the campsite. 

As expected, we quickly reached the hike-in site known as Heffern's Hill.  Neither Darrin or I expected what we found.  Out in the middle of nowhere, in the Yellow River State Forest, was a huge, segmented clearing created just for backpackers.  Ten or twenty groups of backpackers could easily set up camp on Heffern's Hill without imposing on each other.  Besides a spacious setting, scattered around in the clearing were fire rings and stacked firewood.  We had all we needed to end a great day of hiking in a beautiful setting.

Nightfall came quickly as we cooked our supper.  Rice-A-Roni never tasted better and we were soon ready to crawl into the tent.  To practice proper camping etiquette for our upcoming hike in bear-country, we tied our food in a nearby tree.  Needless to say, when we woke the next morning, our food was still safe and secure.

After a quick breakfast of oatmeal and pop-tarts, Darrin and I again ventured down the trail.  Today we had a maximum of 6 miles to cover before we would reach the trailhead. 

Hiking in the early morning sun with a slight breeze and no mosquitoes was hiking at its best.  Both of us thought there was nothing we could do to enhance our experience until we found a large patch of ripe raspberries just waiting to be picked.  We both ate our fill as we wandered down the trail, appreciating the unexpected refreshing snack.

Just as the previous eight miles of trail wound up and down the woods, so too did the remaining six. We again noticed how the trail appeared to be permanently damp.  We also saw numerous signs of horses and recent erosion from summer time rain on the steep hillside trails. 

Several segments of the trail appeared to be in need of serious protection before they became completely degraded and useless. 

As we hiked this segment of trail, Darrin and I discussed the idea of using trail maintenance as a Boy Scout project for our scout troop.  We agreed that both the Yellow River State Forest and the scouts would benefit and decided to discuss the idea at a future meeting.

After only a couple of hours of hiking we reached the fire tower, an obvious trail landmark.  Tower access is limited to authorized personnel, but the setting was interesting and provided a good site for a short break.  From the fire tower our hike was downhill directly to the park headquarters. 

After cleaning up and changing clothes, we chatted with Bob Honeywell about the trail and our Iowa backpacking experience.  Both Darrin and I expressed satisfaction with our hike through the Yellow River State Forest. 

Obviously the Yellow River State Forest pales in comparison to the Rocky Mountains, or even the Porkies of Upper Michigan, but for Iowa backpackers looking for rough terrain where little other human traffic is likely to be encountered, the Yellow River State Forest is hard to beat. 

For more information on backpacking at Yellow River State Forest, click here.

Click here to link to Ladage Photography and Destinations.