Monday, August 15, 2005

A jaunt up Missouri's top mountain

PETE GRATHOFF
Associated Press

ARCADIA, Mo. - At long last, the peak is in sight.

It has been more than seven hours since we set out, and my hiking companion is panting like a dog. Earlier, I had to carry her as we worked toward the summit.

But now, we walk together and reach the top of Taum Sauk Mountain, the highest point in Missouri. My hiking companion is Molly, a 3-month-old shepherd-Lab mix. Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, and she gazes up at me as I declare, "We're standing on top of Missouri!"

The Kansas City Star's Outdoors editor, Brent Frazee, said the time had come for a hiking story, one that would require a great deal of physical exertion.

He suggested I go.

This actually is the kind of assignment I love, because the rougher the trail, the farther away it is from civilization. The stuff I had read on the Taum Sauk section of the Ozark Trail sold me, particularly the 13-mile stretch from Johnson's Shut-Ins to the high point of Missouri: Taum Sauk Mountain.

It is preferred by those who routinely hike the Ozark Trail.

"It's probably my favorite section of the trail, because of the scenery and the water features and the rock formations," said Steve Coates, president of the Ozark Trail Association. "The views from the top of those hills are what's most impressive to me."

For some, the trouble with the views is you can't enjoy them without first undertaking a healthy climb. It's easy to scoff at the notion of scaling a mountain in Missouri, whose highest peak at 1,772 feet ranks 41st in the nation. By comparison, California's Mount Whitney is the highest point in the continental United States at 14,494 feet.

OK, so you won't need oxygen tanks. But the hike from Johnson's Shut-Ins crosses Proffit and Taum Sauk mountains and has climbs of roughly 2,000 feet and a descent of nearly 1,000 feet before all is said and done.

"It can be a pretty grueling hike with the footing the way it is. It can be tough," Coates said. "Then as you hike across those glades, they're very open and exposed, and the rocks tend to heat up. Those rocks can be 10 degrees warmer than it is around and really get pretty hot."

But not as hot as they once were.

"That's all remnant igneous rock right there," Coates said. "Those are the St. Francis Mountains, and those are old, old remnant volcanoes, so there is a form of granite down there that's called dolomite. It's kind of an iron-based rock that gives it its reddish color, and you see a lot of that down there, and some of the habitat is rather unique. I just love it."

On this particular summer day, there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary to see in terms of the wildlife: deer, turkeys and skinks. But there were a fair amount of black-eyed Susans, and the landscape is the best part of this hike.

The Black River runs close to the trail in parts, and you must cross it at one point just before it feeds into the Johnson's Shut-Ins. The water flows among the huge, smooth rocks, creating natural water slides..

How the Shut-Ins were formed is quite a story.

According to the Department of Natural Resources, it all began more than a billion years ago when hot volcanic ash and gases spewed into the air, cooled, and formed igneous rock. Later, shallow seas covered the rock, depositing sedimentary rock. The land rose. The sea fell. The weather began tearing down the land, exposing the volcanic rock beneath it.

Waters of the Black River became confined, or 'shut in,' to a narrow channel. Waterborne sand and gravel cut deeply into the erosion-resistant rock, carving potholes, chutes and spectacular canyonlike gorges.

Yet that means little when a sweaty hiker reaches the Shut-Ins.

"It's a lot of fun to climb around on those rocks and kind of lay in those pools and let the water splash over you," Coates said. "It's really refreshing."

It should be noted that dogs are not allowed at the Shut-Ins, so our hiking party did not partake in that pleasure.

The Shut-Ins aren't the only natural wonder on the hike. Perhaps just as well known is the Mina Sauk Falls, the highest waterfall in Missouri.

Mina Sauk was named for the daughter of Piankashaw Indian chief Taum Sauk. According to the Missouri Department of Conservation, legend has it the falls were formed when Mina threw herself off the mountain after her people had killed her Osage lover in a similar manner. The Great Spirit sent a bolt of lightning, which split the mountaintop, and water flowed over the ledges, washing away the blood of the lovers.

In the spring, blood-red flowers called Indian pinks grow along the banks of the stream.

Mina Sauk Falls drops 132 feet over three rocky outcrops. On our hike, however, it was bone dry because of a recent drought.

Less than two miles from Mina Sauk Falls is yet another interesting geological formation: the Devil's Tollgate, an 8-foot-wide passage through volcanic rock standing 30 feet high.

"That was an old road basically," Coates said. "Actually, I've been told it's an old Civil War road, too. That was a spot where the trail is kind of wide right through there, and it's the old roadbed. It's a good marker to say, 'Meet us at the Devil's Tollgate,' and historically, I'm sure a lot of events have taken place there through the course of time. It's a really, really neat place."

Supposedly, Jesse James hid out at Taum Sauk, so who knows, maybe there's some little-known history to the area as well.

But it's doubtful that he knew Taum Sauk would one day be considered a gem for hikers, a place that draws people for the quiet, the challenging climbs and the view.

Molly and I were impressed, even if she pooped out. Perhaps it wasn't wise to take such a young pup, because the hike is not to be taken lightly.

"It's very rugged, a lot of rocky footing and a lot of open glades," Coates said. "But especially in early spring ... you can see some really neat vistas."

No comments: