The Western National Parks will spoil you.
The awe-inspiring grandeur of the West: the sharp mountain peaks, the big game roaming the valleys, the cascading waterfalls, the mammoth tree trunks, the pristine air– the parks of the American West are notably the most famous of the lot.
At least for me, the Eastern National Parks– while beautiful in their own right– can pale by comparison.
Moon is good about reminding me not to compare experiences, rightly saying that every place should be regarded on its own merits. She’s absolutely correct, and there were some lovely walks in the fall season within the park that I will remember well. Like this stunning covered bridge that crossed a creek bed full of tiny minnows, and a few wriggly water snakes.
Cuyahoga National Park was the kind of place that as a child, would have felt like the paradise of a huge backyard full of trees to climb and little lives to discover, from scurrying chipmunks to tadpoles to frogs. And the kind of place that as an adult, you could let a kid run ahead of you, not worried about any steep drop-offs or other hazards. It was the most gentle kind of parkland.
But I found it hard to ignore the whirring sound of traffic buzzing past on the nearby highways. And I continued to see power lines obstructing the natural views– and while I tried not to let these irritations get to me, they admittedly did.
Typically, I am entering National Parks looking for a respite from the pavement-clad existence we inhabit– and even in crowded parks, near-silence is one of the first things one notices once on a trail. Being the only National Park sandwiched right within two different municipalities, Cuyahoga National Park can feel as urban of a park as Central Park– functioning as a pause within the heart of a populated area– more like a large municipal park for the locals, than a natural set of wonders.
I mean, there’s even private land dispersed throughout the park– a private ski resort is located within its bounds.
Not to mention, in my book, if you’re increasing elevation at a good clip, you’re ‘hiking.’ And if you’re treading on a fairly-flat surface, you’re just walking. And when in nature, I much prefer hiking to walking! But see the merits of both.
Brandywine Falls was one of the most popular ‘hikes’ and was an enjoyable walk across an elevated walkway that was slick with damp fallen leaves. The sunlight streaked through the thick tree canopy, and the effect was colorful and bright, feeling as layered as an oil painting. This popular trail was also full of people and pets, and being extremely accessible to the parking lot, there was hardly solace — but the falls were lovely and the fall color guard was spectacular.
I found myself training my lens on the oversaturated leaves, the deep hues of red and orange that made autumn feel thrilling and exciting somehow, less like waning and more like bursting at the seams. This is one advantage of the Eastern United States– these radiant red leaves rarely occur in the West. And I loved seeing the strong oaks with their distinctive leaves turning orange– remembering that oaks are declining thanks to development and are not as common as they once were.
The area around Cuyahoga National Park is almost more peaceful than being within it– the agrarian surrounds of rural Ohio can be a more peaceful experience. While the park itself is located between busy suburban centers, it doesn’t take long for the roads to stretch for miles with few houses dotting the landscape.
The land may not have a huge amount of features, but in these rural areas outside the park border, it does have a peace to it.
Posted by Sun
