If I'm Willing To Look Hard Enough

When I left Portland, Oregon I wasn't looking at Indiana as a place without breathtaking natural surroundings. I was looking at Indianapolis, Indiana as a refuge to heal myself and my family from the cracks that almost broke our family into pieces by living in the Pacific Northwest. I was looking at Indianapolis as a quiet place to remember what my long goals were, to regroup, and when the right time came, to head back out into the world again a more whole person and family. Because I had spent so much of my Portland time trying to keep myself (and by extension by family) from drowning there wasn't the time to remember who I was and what I valued. I was in survival mode; there are no such luxuries as self reflection and inner peace when you are flailing and fighting to keep your head above water. 

As the months passed and the dust settled after moving here, when I caught my breath and I found I could actually stand on my own two feet again, I began to recognize the face in the mirror again. In remembering the parts of me that I had temporarily forgotten and looking around my new surroundings in the Midwest, I was caught a bit off guard when I realized how much nature is a part of the fabric of my being and just how little nature there was in the area in which I now called home.  Others in my family noticed the loss of natural surroundings too. Now, I know that we have been spoiled. We lived in the Southwest and the Pacific Northwest, two of the most naturally diverse and beautiful landscapes in the whole United States of America, so we weren't expecting breathtaking mountains or stunning oceans while living in this part of the country, but we were expecting something...

But there was nothing. No cool park systems, or forests, or lakes, or anything...Yes, there were small things here and there, but nothing inspiring. Indiana just seemed blah from a natural landscape point of view until about 5 weeks ago when Bobby and I began taking Saturday trips out of town. During the worst of the quarantine we would do nothing but go for drives. Then as restrictions were slowly lifted we would head out of town and try to see if there was anything out there worth spending our time in. Slowly, but surely we would find a little bit of this or a little bit of that that would spark our interest. I began to get inspired by these Saturday trips and thought that surely, surely there must be something in this state (and if we were lucky multiple somethings) that would take our breath away. That's when the research begin in earnest. I knew that there was nothing within a 45 minute drive that we just loved, and I also knew that when we lived out west we often times had to drive for 90+ minutes to get to the most beautiful sights, so why not expand my Indiana trip radius and look beyond the 45 minute range?

Man, I am so glad I did so. I thought McCormick State Park was pretty cool, but Turkey Run State Park? It was breathtakingly, amazingly, heaven-on-earth beautiful. In INDIANA! Bob, Sarah, and I drove about 90 minutes, but it was so worth the time. We hiked three trails and I felt more in touch with nature than I have since my 39th birthday over 2 years ago. Now I am inspired to seek out as many beautiful places as I can while I live here because I love traveling to new places; I love being inspired by what the universe has to offer those willing to seek out its beauty. Because being in nature in such a huge part of who I am and what makes me happy planning these trips are also good for my well-being. 

Now I know what lesson I came here to learn. I feel like there was/is a lesson to be had in every place we have been/will be. I just figured that being in Indiana was about healing, and that was what I was supposed to learn - how to heal myself and my family, but I am finding out that Indiana had more than that to teach me. It has taught me that no matter where I am and no matter how vanilla the life may seem where I am I can always find the beauty if I am willing to look hard enough.  

Sarah was not a huge fan of this suspension bridge. 

View from the suspension bridge. The water so clear it was deceiving. You would think that the water was shallow, but it actually was quite deep towards the middle. 

The rock formations were huge in the canyon. 

The beginning of this trail walked beside this little brook, but eventually the brook becomes the trail and is the only way through to the end. 

The brook has become the trail by this point. 

The trail gets pretty narrow here and you have to navigate the water with the rock walls. 

THIS is the trail. IT was so cool. SO COOL!

Again, we had to keep on going straight through the water and the fallen trees and the rock formations.

Watch your step! Even though you can not tell from this pic that hole was probably as deep as my knee. 

It was so peaceful.

Little caves. 

This trail is listed as 'very rugged' in the trail guide. Sarah was a champ the whole way through. 

A girl and her dad. 

The sunlight was magical. 

Out of the brook and onto dry land - for a bit. The trees were pretty tall here and also pretty bare. I am curious to see how long it will take them to fully bloom. 

So....I am pretty afraid of heights. In fact, I usually have small panic attacks when it comes to being in high places. The trail went down several stories and the only way down was by using ladders that were attached to the faces of the rock walls. I looked like a crazy person talking to myself the whole way down trying to keep myself calm. Sarah on the other hand just zoomed right on down the ladder.

The trail we went on took us a different way, but here you can see people using the other two rock-faced ladders climbing down to the bottom of the trail in the stream bed again. 

My adventurous self loved all the parts of this hike, but my out of shape self loved these smooth pathways a lot.

The smooth part didn't last too long. Here we go again back into the water and the curving rock walled part of the trail. 

Bobby slipped on his booty down this part of the trail because of the wet leaves.