Whenever I feel like getting a reaction from strangers, I wear my favorite Ohio t-shirt. On its front side, scribbled across an outline of the Buckeye State, the bright pink text reads “Ohio! It’s Not That Bad, Have A Beer”. Most give a nod, followed by “nice shirt”. When I wear it outside of Ohio, as I typically do on travel days or initial days of road trips and vacations, I get curious looks. I can see others wondering if the shirt is ironic or sincere. Is it really not that bad? Is the narrative that no one wants to live there and that there is nothing to see overblown? Or is this guy sadly in on the joke and tortured at the same time, making fun of his state, wishing he could get out? Should I tell him to blink twice if he is in trouble, and offer to relocate him to somewhere else? I laugh as I watch the mental gymnastics commence.
The narrative to out-of-towners goes something like this: you can experience all 4 seasons in the span of an Ohio day. Ohioans care much more than they should about football. And everyone flees for nicer weather (they are obsessed with the weather) and more things to do. But I like the shirt because there are obvious and hidden truths to the shirt’s message. Along with its message, other Ohio-based icons are illustrated. A football, carnations, a buckeye (the dessert), and a giant pine accompany the state flag. To cap it off, a foamy pint glass is included, offering for the out-of-towner to chill out, let us buy you a drink, and explain all that we have to offer. While there are obvious Ohio truths displayed, there is a hidden truth marked by that large pine tree on the front of that shirt, located right where Hocking Hills State Park is.
Hocking Hills sits in the southern half of the state and is a fitting first place to write about. When I started this blog, I wanted to capture the places I run, and what makes them special. I always tend to learn something when exploring somewhere on foot, whether it is about the place or myself. It’s also a fitting first stop because it is where my passion for hiking and the trails was lit. I’ve always been a city kid who likes creature comforts, but I was amazed that its features were here, in Ohio. The forest, caves, and hiking attract visitors from all over the country. When I visited the first time, I was surprised that even though I’ve lived here my entire life I had never seen these things. I didn’t know its history. That visit was full of hiking and exploring its popular trails. This time around I wanted to run the trails and soak in the nature around me.
I liked the idea of switching things up and running on a natural surface instead of asphalt. Being in the middle of a marathon training block can weigh on you, and this was the perfect opportunity to still build mileage while mixing it up. In anticipation, I had been searching websites for the best trails to run. What was the best distance? What was the most scenic? And how busy would it be? My research did little to clear things up so I was left to make my route, deciding to park at Ash Cave and head up to Cedar Falls and back, via the Buckeye Trail, a 1,400-mile trail that loops around the entire state.
On a singular trail, you can stand on a beachhead overlooking Lake Erie, visit a National Park, explore Ohio’s rural countryside, take in the Ohio River, and visit the 21 “trail towns” that it runs through. The first trails were established in Hocking County in the 1950s, along the same stretch I was covering, to give hikers a way to slow down and discover Ohio.
As I stepped past the first blue blaze that would guide me, the sun shone through the trees. Ash Cave was already busy with hikers and tourists, and as I passed they moved to the side allowing me to pick up the pace from a walk to a jog. Within minutes, the crowd thinned, and with little cell service and no one around, it was just me and the blazes guiding me through the woods. I settled in. This is what I was waiting for.
A major difference between road running and trail running is what sticks out of the ground. Roots, rocks, and the occasional limb of a tree or bush can trip runners, and you have to pay more attention to what is in front of you. This forces the pace to slow down and changes the consistent stride that road runners are used to. The trail requires you to pay attention, and that intensified focus provides a different type of zen that I’m convinced can only be felt trail running. Maybe it’s the woods, or the fact that getting distracted could mean a fall, or maybe it’s because out there pace doesn’t matter. You’re naturally slower due to changes in the landscape. This is a welcome change from the pressure of a structured training plan, rather than running to train, you are running to run. The pure enjoyment of the sport is what propels your feet forward.
For people hoping to develop a running habit, this is the best entry point. You learn that not everything is about time, but you can still challenge yourself. You learn that you can cover more ground than you previously thought. The difficulty of going uphill is always offset by an effortless and fast downhill. While it is still a physical endeavor, trail running is more spiritual and less of a commitment. You feel more of a connection to the world around you and can unplug from the anxiety of hitting splits or meeting weekly mileage thresholds. You get dirty, because any trail surrounded by trees always has a muddy spot, regardless of the weather. Trails surprise you with their vast and connected network. You will end up in a location that you didn’t know you could reach on foot. And, while I haven’t encountered too many mean runners in any setting, trail runners seem to be much more laid back.
This subset of the sport is booming right now. Sign-ups for trail races are increasing, and more people are chasing entries into major races like the Western States 100 and UTMB. Races like the Barkley Marathons in Tennessee have a cult following and a cast of characters different from any organized race out there. (Side note: stream the documentary “The Race That Eats It’s Young” about the Barkley Marathons - it’s wild) These races aren’t just in mountainous or exotic locations, trail races and ultramarathons are popping up in the less elevated portions of the eastern United States as well. Hocking Hills hosts an annual trail run of their own.
Part of me thinks that after the road running phase of my running is over, I will turn into someone who prefers trail races, or at least a type of hybrid athlete. Will I ever do a 100-mile race? That’s a stretch, but I also said at one point I would never run a marathon. It’s such a fulfilling way to run and experience the uniqueness of the land around us that we don’t get to see daily.
After my turnaround at Cedar Falls, I retraced my route back to Ash Cave. I stopped to take pictures of the woods, cave and rock formations, and the fire tower along the way. I offered hellos to other hikers on the trail, offering tips if a stretch was particularly muddy or trail detours were ahead. I approached the end of the trail and headed to my car, energized from this run. I also thought about the fact that at that very moment, other hikers and runners were on the same trail as I was, scattered around the state. And afterward many, like me, would sit down, have a beer, and think about Ohio’s hidden gems, and that it isn’t so bad after all.
Ohio can catch you by surprise! I’m glad you can appreciate and seek out all it has to offer. And inform those who just don’t get “it”.
10/10!