I wanted an adventure, and for my literary sins, I was given one.

The day started off in an ordinary fashion.  In an effort to find something interesting to write about during the dullest month of the year, I had traveled to Owen County to hike in a little-know but gorgeous Nature Conservancy preserve known as Green’s Bluff.

After a couple of wrong turns, I found the parking lot for the preserve.  Actually, it was merely the dead-end of a gravel road with a sign that indicated you had arrived.  The roadbed continued onward and after hoisting my too-heavy pack full of camera gear, I headed out towards adventure.

The day was chilly but clear and it felt great to be shambling along the forest path.  I reached the split of the loop trail and followed the right-hand path along the bluff.  Through the bare trees, I could see that we were a considerable ways above Raccoon creek.

A few moments later I arrived at an interpretive sign that told the history of the area and detailed some of the unusual native plants such hemlock trees, wintergreen and hay-scented ferns.  From this point, the trail entered a tunnel of small hemlocks and descended below the brow of the cliff.

The trail wound down a series of switchbacks and slid along the face of the cliff.  The narrow trail, impressive views and steep drop-offs reminded me of eastern Tennessee and I even sucked in a deep breath when crossing a narrow eroded spot in the trail, just like in the real mountains.

The trail then wound down into the valley, past some mildly interesting ruins of a gristmill and returned up the hill to rejoin itself.  However, I had another idea.  I was going to find the cave.

Somewhere to my east was Boone’s Cave.  The cave, one of Indiana’s longest, is well known among spelunkers and is even mentioned on topographic maps.  Unfortunately there is no designated trail to the entrance so I fired up my Global Positioning System receiver and set off upstream.
To summarize, my horizontal walking distance was only about two miles but by the time I found the cave entrance, I believe my on-the-ground total was somewhere near 100 miles or more.  I was a little winded.

The cave proved as impressive as I had hoped.  A gaping mouth at the base of a cliff, a large spring flowed out of it like a watery tongue.
Readers should remember that it is unsafe to enter caves without being part of properly trained and equipped group.  Therefore, we will just say that I imagined the inside of the cave was fascinating.  You can check out my website http://www.wildindiana.com for faked photos that give of a sense of what the cave would look like if I had indeed entered.

The real adventure began when I was ready to head home.  Knowing that I was due east of the parking area, I decided to head cross-country again to avoid retracing my arduous inbound hike.

Initially, the going was easy as I found an old logging road.  This eventually disappeared into the undergrowth and I began staggering up and down hills, trying to avoid tripping on my dragging tongue.

Later, I found another, better-defined road that headed in the direction of the parking lot.  The GPS concurred with this general heading and I shut off the unit to conserve batteries.  This was where things got interesting.

The road imperceptibly and malevolently had curved.  When I turned the GPS back on after realizing I had already walked more than the half-mile it had previously indicated, it now showed I was moving AWAY from my car!

This realization did wonders for my heart rate.  While the area is not large enough to be lost for days, the prospect of wandering around until midnight suddenly became a real possibility.

Inspired by my concerns, I set off westward in a dogtrot across a major valley.  As I plunged through thorny thickets, downed trees, up hillsides and down, my heart raced and breath came in great heaves.  Once, I ran across a complete deer skeleton.  I’m sure its heart had exploded while trying to climb the same hillside I was currently clawing my way up.

Somehow, an hour later, because the Creator takes care of drunkards, idiots and the Global Positioning System, I emerged right at my car.  Standing there, wheezing, bathed in sweat and not sure my own circulatory system hadn’t already collapsed, I reflected on what I had learned.

I would say that Green’s Bluff is a worthwhile day trip for anyone seeking the solitude of a lofty perch.

I would also advise to stay on the trail unless you are incredibly physically fit and prepared for wilderness travel.

I’m certainly not.

But I did have an adventure.

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