Target: Wildcat Hollow
Type: Rightpoint
State: Ohio

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Wayne NF is an extreme example of how aspirational our National Forests can be. Congress declared the boundaries at nearly a million acres, but the actual holdings are about a quarter of that. It’s further broken up into three distinct pieces, separated from each other by several hours of driving. Each of those three sections is a patchwork of public and private land ownership. If you hike far at all you’ll inevitably end up on a road or in someone’s backyard.

I’ve never seen a Forest that seems so much a part of the community it threads within. Locals use it heavily and seem to have a real sense of ownership without the exclusivity that often comes with more remote or isolated places. I would see both the Cabelas and REI crowd using the land without conflict or even apparent awareness of the divisions these labels have in some places. Throw in a liberal helping of just plain folks looking to recreate and you couldn’t ask for a more diverse mix. These visitors from all political and social groups will be a crucial part of the defense of public lands when they inevitably come under attack.

On the other side of the coin, there’s little of the ‘wilderness’ feel that often pervades public lands and you can’t ever seem to get away from civilization. Also, the Forest Service started a new management plan that seems to exclude maintaining their own roads in favor of leveraging existing public rights of way. I heavily utilize FS roads for camping, especially after a long night of driving to get to the Forest, so this is a big negative for me, as would soon be apparent.

I got in around 11PM planning to try a series of unmaintained roads on the official maps to see if I could grab a decent campsite for the night. The first was abandoned and blocked off, as was the second. The third was well maintained, but very narrow. I drove up it a ways and found a perfect spot to pull off and set up my tent. I started thinking about how tight some of the turns had been, and how the general grade was different than most FS roads and it occurred to me that I had maybe wandered onto an ATV trail instead of a proper road. I had signal and quickly confirmed this. Not wanting to cause havoc in the morning, I headed back to main road to try for another spot.

A long circle around the Forest led to an oil service road which looked to eventually become an FS road. Unfortunately there was a deep and wide washout just as the road left a residential area. From the location and obvious neglect I can only assume this was another abandoned section. I had passed a picnic area on the way in and, now pushing 1AM, decided to just park and sleep there for the night. Not the best start to the weekend.

The morning made up for some of it at least. I had stopped by a wide pond surrounded by trees and soft morning mist spread over the water and into the woods. Making my way down to a reed lined shore I absorbed all the silence and stillness.

Eventually, the warmth of the rising sun started to disperse the fog and relieve the stiffness in my limbs and joints. My plans for the day were a wash and I abandoned them with the melting night chills. It was clear that in order to find anything worthwhile here I would have to lean on local knowledge. A quick breakfast and then I pointed the Jeep towards town.

Te general consensus was the a local State Forest, Zaleski, had the best trails and terrain in the area. A near second, that actually fell in the National Forest, was Wildcat Hollow, so that became my destination. Some quick planning and I was on the way.

First though, I swung by a truly unique feature of Wayne NF. There is a tiny extant piece of the Great Plains nestled in a low hollow and surrounded by towering oak forest. It’s called Buffalo Beats and is the last remnant of the so-called Prairie Peninsula. This was once millions of acres of grassland supporting large herds of buffalo, hence the name, but gradually dwindled as the forest took over. Early European settlers plowed under most of what remained. Through pure chance a mere 14 acres survived, dwindling to as little as half an acre at one point before the Forest Service stepped in.

The exact location is closely held since the ecosystem is very fragile, but I had managed to narrow it down to a small region. I had it in mind to get a closer look if I could do so without risking damage. As it turned out that simply wouldn’t be possible. I might have been able to if the boundaries were more clearly defined, but I suspected that I wouldn’t know I was trampling rare flora and fauna until I was already in the middle of it. Instead I just marveled at the incongruity of the surroundings and what I knew to be inside. This is something truly amazing, a survival story of epic proportions, and it made me happy just knowing it was there.

Another half hour’s drive through quaint villages and winding dirt roads brought me to the trailhead and a large gathering of camo clad men milling about under a giant Budweiser banner. Not exactly what I expected. This was Friday and it turned out that Monday was the first day of deer season so all these folks were scouting and staking their claims. They were a friendly bunch, and they gave me the general lay of the land. Before long I was on the trail with a day pack.

Wildcat Hollow Trail is made up of two loops, separated by a road. I had some idea of doing the 18 mile double so went light, but left my mind open to bail and take the short 5 mile if I felt so inclined. I was off script and didn’t want to write a new one.

This was probably not the best time of year to be here. The leaves were down, everything was dormant or dead, but no snow or other pleasant winter accommodations had yet appeared. There was something nice about the roll of the hills though, so different from the mountains and foothills I’d spent so much time in recently. There is a section of Wayne along the West Virginia border and that was surely more Appalachian, but I’d chosen this part specifically for its differences. Low and rounded, these hills seemed like gentle wrinkles instead of harsh tectonic geology.

The scenery was not greatly varied and I was feeling like going off trail and having a relaxing day somewhere with an early camp so when I reached the split I took the short loop. My new plan was to scout the ridge above the trail and find a likely spot to camp, then head back to get my overnight gear. This turned out to be just what I needed and I enjoyed tramping up and down the leaf covered slopes, eventually stumbling onto an old, long abandoned hunting camp, which was pretty much just a fire ring.

Eventually I meandered back to the Jeep. There were a couple of other hikers there now, one just leaving after a short jaunt and one heading out to camp for the night. We chatted a bit while I had lunch and as they headed off in opposite directions of each other I put my overnight pack together.

I decided that a fire was just the thing I wanted and made my way back to the fire ring I had found in the hollow over the ridge from the trail. It was early afternoon when I arrived so I strung up my hammock, threw my sleeping pad in it and settled in for a very pleasant and relaxing afternoon. When the sun was getting close to the horizon I started gathering wood, cleaning up the fire ring, and performing all the other minor tasks that a fire entails.

The skies were clear and temperatures dropping rapidly so I left my rainfly off in order to sleep under the stars. It was supposed to be well under freezing overnight so this would also keep the condensation to a minimum. Once it was dark I lit the fire, had some dinner and spent the rest of the evening pondering the mysteries. This was exactly the night I needed after the last one.

The morning was cold and I didn’t climb out of my sleeping bag until the first rays of sunlight struck it. A layer of frost coated everything and I tried to shake off as much as possible before packing up. I’d need to lay everything out to dry at some point.

I had decided the night before that I wanted to have a look at the southern section of the Forest so I set out for the trailhead. The hike out was quiet, with no people and few animals moving about. The occasional chipmunk stirred the leaves and a bird or two chirped over head. I cherish these times when the world is still and I soaked up my surroundings with a fresh perspective. The walk was finished too soon and left me wishing I had gone the other way, to the long loop, but I was also interested in seeing what differences existed in other parts of the Forest.

It was a two hour drive, more or less, to my destination. The other great thing about visiting the National Forests is how often you see places that you would never even begin to experience otherwise. At times the forest seemed to swallow the narrow roads, especially as they went from pavement to dirt. Other times they wound past farms, or clusters of houses that had aspirations to township. Abandoned structures rolled by, barns, cabins, houses, and other buildings I couldn’t put a name to. These were glimpses of lives in one dimension, and I could only guess at the full richness that lay behind that thin veil.

As I re-entered the Forest I began to see the occasional truck parked at turnouts. More hunters probably, setting up their deer stands to mark their territory. At one point an old signboard showed the various trails in the area. Once again, the multi-use nature of this Forest was on display.

I reached the trailhead that I intended to hike and pulled off the road. A quick lunch and loading up a day pack saw me ready to start hiking and I wasted no time. The day threatened rain, but so far enough sun peeked through the clouds to make it pleasant. This trail wound down a steep ridge then crossed a creek to climb the other side, eventually working it’s way to northern views of the man-made Lake Vesuvius.

Horses were allowed here and it showed in the churned up mud and piles of leavings at various stages of freshness. I also noticed a marked increase in litter, although I don’t draw any conclusions there. At least the signs all seemed to be at least a day and no one appeared to be on the trail today.

The character of the land was much the same as the northern section I had been on the last couple of days. The ridges were maybe a bit steeper and the hollows deeper, but it still had more the appearance of low disturbances than mountains. There were occasional long distance views revealing a land well worn and tired, but making a comeback in a new, modulated form. All of this land had been drilled, mined, and logged to exhaustion before the Forest Service took over. Now it felt much like a park, nature without the wild. This is not a criticism, just a statement. Places like this are as important to the public lands system as remote Alaskan mountains. Each serves a role, and this place for everyone to walk and enjoy is infinitely better than the alternative.

I made it to the bottom of the ridge and crossed the creek with dry feet by hopping from rock to rock. Starting up the ridge on the other side I decided I’d had enough of the mud and set off through the trees. Making my way up to the top of the facing ridge, I strolled along it for a while until I found a good view and then settled in for a quiet couple of hours of simply looking and being. This was the end of my trip and I wanted to take it all in. This was not what I usually looked for in nature, but it was good to be reminded that there are special places in all the Forests and they serve different purposes for different needs. One of the primary goals of this project was to visit those places that I otherwise wouldn’t and see them in the light of their own value. I think I achieved that here.