Camp Trail, Raccoon Creek

The Camp Trail suffers from an unimaginative name, like many trails at Raccoon Creek State Park, but otherwise it's almost as pretty as the Valley Trail (see my point about the names?), and it runs through a remoter portion of the park.  

A thin little wisp of wintertime was making itself known out over the hills and hollows of the park, but nothing like the Januaries of yore.  We used to have a "January Thaw," which meant that temps got up into the high thirties for three days.  Now we have the occasional January Freeze.  

The Upper Lake is the original body of water at Raccoon Creek, dating back to CCC times.  It's much smaller than Raccoon Lake, in the eastern portion of the park.  Fishing on this lake is entirely "catch & release," so the place isn't much visited by fishers.  And there's no beach.  

The beautiful thing about hiking is that there are times when you actually feel as if the wild country that surrounds you goes on forever.  Maintaining healthy illusions is one of life's consoling arts.  

Honestly, this could almost become a blog about Raccoon Creek State Park.  It's always my first choice these days.  And yet, in these midwinter days, my thoughts are often faraway.  I think back on the Africa years.  And the New York years.  And the New Orleans years.  Mostly, I think about New Orleans, since Mardi Gras is just around the corner.  In fact, after all these years, I'm finally reading A Confederacy of Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole...a book that my New Orleans fiancee of long ago wanted me to read in order to better understand the city. It was a doomed engagement anyway...