MN River Valley

Majestic and free, the Minnesota River Valley offers some rich experiences for us all

It’s the second weekend in March, and the sun is melting the snow on the banks of the Minnesota River as it meanders through the Minnesota River Valley, between highway 18 and Cedar Avenue in Bloomington. My friend and I decided to take an early hike into the Black Dog Nature Preserve Scientific & Natural Area which is now part of the Minnesota Valley National Wildlife Area.

This is the North side of the river heading east from Hwy 169 towards Colman Lake which lies below Overlook Drive in Bloomington. We left we are car parked in the small lot at the end of Bloomington Ferry Road. This is the site of the old Bloomington Ferry Bridge (http://www.johnweeks.com/bridges/pages/b10m.html), which was swing bridge that tended to completely flood over every three years or so, it was finally closed for the last time in the late nineties and a new steel bridge was built in its place in 1998 underneath Highway 169. No longer intended as a vehicular bridge, the new one is meant to carry foot traffic and bicycles over the Minnesota River to the bike path on the South Side of the river as it leads in the direction Fort Snelling.

We enter the dirt trail on the north side of the river through the woods, leading us on a winding pathway around vast bogs and flood plains leading all the way to Nine Mile Lake below Dwan Golf Club in East Bloomington. It is still early, an uncommonly warm March weekend and the trees branches are still bare. As we pass under some of the enormous trees lining the river bank we can see nests the size of a king mattress near the top, then we hear the shrill sound of a call from an American Bald Eagle, glancing around we see them perched atop trees on the opposite bank and then catch one on the wing as it soars regally, proudly high above the slow moving muddy water. It’s a breathtaking scene and a common one here.

In a mile or so we come to Colman Lake, up until now it’s been pretty quiet, only the sounds of an afternoon breeze washing past our ears, The trail turns sandy and the ground just to our left turns moist. There out on the lake is a bustling community of water fowl, there are ducks, geese and even Herons all singing and moving about. As we approach a pair of geese begins their ascent from the surface of the lake, the tips of their wings tapping the water just as they climb, honking all the way, off into the distance as they clear the canopy.

The sounds of traffic and the city are gone, periodically there is another hiker, a birder or bicyclist now and again, and all are keen to smile and greet you. This is a gem to be cherished, its wild, fruitful and beautiful. Along the way we pause and take a seat on an old fallen tree along the shoreline, it is steep here and can drop thirty to fifty feet to the surface of the river. It is quiet too; there are still large, flat portions of ice flowing gently by. We relax and close our eyes and feel the warming rays of the sun as it caresses our cheeks before moving on.

Along the way are many tributaries that carry water into the marshes and backwaters and lakes that are home to so much rich and diverse wildlife in the preserve. In the spring these tributaries can and often do flood. Felled trees are almost always the only way across when the water is high in these areas, once in a while you can find small floating carts fashioned from wood and large branches that are fastened to ropes on each side of the tributary. You can lay down your bike and pull yourself across or walk farther inland to find a smaller path on higher ground to evade the watery impasse. As we travel on, nearing Nine Mile Lake we decide to make our way nearer the Bloomington bluffs, if you decide to walk the trail along the banks of the Minnesota River here you will find yourself caught between the marshes and the river in the Black Dog Reservation in East Bloomington. The old historic Cedar Bridge here has been closed and is slated for replacement over the next couple of years leading to the Bluff Trail at the end of Old Cedar Avenue (http://www.johnweeks.com/bridges/pages/b10m.html).

We find our way skirting one of the less flooded waterways leading from the river towards Mounds Spring Park. This area is often flooded through and evidence of this can be seen six feet off the ground with natural debris caught in the bark of younger trees. There is no green underbrush just yet, still too early in the season and everything is a darker shade of gray and mud. The only life aside from us happens to be a small heard of deer, at first we cannot see them, they are quiet easily camouflaged still in their gray winter coats, but we hear them bark, letting others know we are near. When we do spot them we decide to give them a wide birth and let them peacefully hang out among all the driftwood carried back here from the river during periods of higher water levels.

It’s at this time we choose to begin our trip back to the car, the sun is in its decent and the day is getting coming to a close. As the sun turns to a darker orange hue we stop to measure the girth of a few trees, wrapping our arms around the trunk and finger tip to finger tip; it takes at least three of us to get all the way round. It’s been a good hike, beautiful scenery, lots of wild life, memories and excitement as we begin planning our next trip to another section of the river near the Crosby Farm area. This is what Saturday and Sunday mornings are made for it seems. Take a lunch and spend a couple hours wandering through this wonderful gem most of us drive over and never see on our way to Savage and Burnsville. I promise you won’t regret it, and you just might find your way back here during each season to see the drastic changes that take place. Just make sure you plan accordingly, there are 70 miles of this wildlife management refuge established in 1976, stretching from Bloomington to Henderson, consisting of 14,000 acres (http://www.fws.gov/refuge/Minnesota_Valley/about.html).

  • As a precautionary note, the Black Dog Trail is still closed at the end of Old Cedar Avenue in order for the Fish and Wildlife Services to complete their rehabilitation on the bridge and this portion of the park. Also

 

 

 

 

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On the trail

After a few hours on the trail, the two of them were hot and sweaty, the sun was high and they’d been hiking the trail that skirted the mountain side along the Napoli Coast. For the last few miles Tracy had been following Shira, he watched as her as they hiked, he loved her sculpted calves and her beautiful legs, and he absolutely loved her little round ass. She’d look back at him now and again and smile a perfect wry smile, even in her coal dark eyes he swore he could see the bright blue water that crashed upon the rocks far below the trail.

It was still pretty early in the day and they hadn’t seen anyone else on this trail yet, as they stopped for a drink of water she noticed his shirt was soaked and told him to remove it, his skin glistened in the Pacific sunlight, his broad chest and muscular shoulders turned her on, she could feel the pulsating in her groin then. He could see it in her eyes too, he knew what she was thinking, she reached out and felt his growing erection through his shorts, he was breathing heavily and it wasn’t from the preceding miles.

He leaned in and kissed her soft neck and it tasted like salt and he loved it, it was warm and sensual and she closed her eyes and listened to the waves crash below. He placed his hands firmly on her ribs and pressed her against the rocks on the upslope to one side. They kissed passionately and she’d already slipped her hand inside his shorts, there she could feel how hard he had become and she wanted him right there. They peered into each other’s eyes and without uttering a word, sought approval from one another. They looked to the East and then to the west and it was decided and their packs dropped to the ground.

She reached out and pulled open his shorts and began stroking his engorged cock, he pulled up her shirt and unfastened her shorts and watched them fall to the dirt at her feet. Then his strong fingers found her already wet mound and began to massage her clit, she moaned, and his fingers found themselves inside her, it didn’t take much, the tropical venture, the crisp mountain air and the sunshine all made this moment that much better. As their tongues played her groin grew ready, swelled and dripping, suddenly he paused and turned her around, she placed her hands on the side o the mountain in front of her and he pressed against her from behind.

Just as he pushed inside of her they both gasped loudly, he pulled out just a little and kept reentering her a little deeper each time until the entire length of his erect shaft was buried, filling her hot pussy. His paced increased and he was fucking her avidly, sweat poured from their chests and arms and his lap slammed against her ass. Shira called out his name and his eyes closed tightly he thrust into her as his cock bucked and quivered, then he suddenly pulled from her, she spun around and dropped to her knees and took his penis in her hand and continued to stroke him as he exploded all over her chest, his cum immediately melted and ran down her front, then she sucked him until he was dry.

This is the Boundary Waters

There’s nothing as special as the earliest morning light, as it spills over the horizon, reflecting in the tiny drops of dew hanging from the pine trees in the forest. The coolness of the fresh air, the silence of the lake and the haunting call from a loon somewhere out on the water.

This is morning in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area and there is nothing like it anywhere else in the world. It’s tranquil and serene. It’s where my heart and soul regenerate and where my mind slips away from all time.

Where casting off in a canoe and setting my paddle into the water is like holding hands with a loved one. It’s a place where one can breathe and sleep undisturbed under an unequivocally and brilliantly depthless field of stars.

Industrialization has no place here, this is for the wild, the pure, the natural world where the bears roam and the deer wander and people can regain a sense of self and wonder.

This is where the rains soak deep into the thick moss carpeting islands of granite, replenishing groves of uncultivated, rich blueberries.

This is a haven of pure spiritualism, freedom and peace, this is the Boundary Waters.