Indiana Dunes

It is a universally recognized fact that Indiana is the backwoods armpit of the United States, where casseroles go to die. So when the idea of daytripping to the Indiana dunes came up, I admit to feeling some trepidation. Wait, we're leaving Chicago? To go to...the Midwest?? I also wasn't quite sure how to handle the thought of dunes in Indiana. I mean, don't those belong in deserts? The only image that came to mind was that scene in Spaceballs when they're wandering the dunes, combing the desert.

After a 45 minute drive, we began seeing signs for various beaches and dunes. Spying an arrow for the Indiana Dunes State Park, we pulled in toward the gatehouse. "That'll be $5 for parking," said the trooper. "Wait, are you Indiana residents?" No, we responded. "Then it'll be $10." We supressed some grumbling and handed him the money, while asking for directions on how to get to the Cowles Bog Trail (the only trail marked as "moderately arduous.") "Oh, actually that's outside of here, in Indiana Dunes National Park. They're entirely separate from us," said the trooper. "Uh, well then can we get a refund?" we asked. "Nope, sorry. I can't just give refunds like that," the trooper responded, as he pocketed our still-warm Hamilton. We looked at him agape. "Well, it's up to this guy." He waved at another guy wearing a blue t-shirt. "It's your call, do you want to give them a refund?" Luckily, the guy in the blue shirt was reasonable and said, "Sure, why not? Why pay if you don't want to be here?" He handed us a lengthy form to fill out. Under "reason for refund request," Katherine wrote, "Don't want to be here." On our way out of the parking lot, I may have loudly called the trooper a douchebag.

Take two: we made our way (down the street) to Dune Acres, which is part of Indiana Dunes National Park. Here, there was ample parking for free, even though the trooper assured us that we'd have to pay anywhere else we went. The sun was shining, the water was frigid, and we spread out our wares and began picnicking on the beach.

Adam, Shani and Leah smile for the camera as Melissa displays her lip-framed sunglasses.

Our picnic included many interesting contributions, including this lovely cherry & chocolate chip studded emerald-green cake with blue frosting. I think my teeth hurt after eating a piece of this.

Katherine taking a picture of me as I take a picture of her

A sand dune, covered with small grasses, trees, and intrepid explorers. If a dune is not anchored with grass and other plants, it is considered a "living" dune since it moves.

After spending a couple hours on the beach, watching white people get comically sunburned, we went to the Cowles Bog trailhead. This was billed as a 5 mile loop with three types of terrain. I was excited for my first real hike in the Midwest, since the last attempt in Madison was fairly lame (it turns out the prairie is flat). The first mile or so was relaxing, a scenic tour of forest and wetlands, but nothing particularly novel. Then, as if Nature had read my mind and wanted to up the ante, we came to the Bridge of Branches. A large expanse of water stood between us and the other side, and the only way across was to walk over a haphazard series of branches. No railings, no solid planks, just pure balance. "I bet there are crocodiles in these waters," I joked. "Probably not, but there are definitely leeches." said Adam. I wrinkled my nose in dismay. For some reason, the lava theme from Donkey Kong 2 came to mind.

Leah leads the way, boldly testing which of the branches are the most stable.

Melissa officially wins for having the most grace and balance. I blame the dance lessons.

With abated breath, we all successfully stayed dry. Once we made it across, the terrain gradually shifted from boggy to sandy. The dirt trail underfoot morphed into sand, and we found ourselves climbing in elevation. If you think hiking uphill is hard, try doing it as the ground gives way underneath and you slide backwards. Suddenly, we reached the summit and were rewarded with a gorgeous view of the beach and Lake Michigan below us.

Adam takes in the not-quite-ocean vista.

The amount of vegetation that manages to grow and thrive in these sands is amazing.

Coming down the dune, we decided to take off our shoes, since we were plunging in past our ankles with each step.

The view from the bottom, on the beach with "singing sands"

That's right, the sand makes noises in Indiana, particularly if you drag your toes through it. I would liken the phenomena to the sound a seal makes. According to Wikipedia, for singing sand to occur, the sand grains must be round and between 0.1 and 0.5 mm in diameter, must contain silica, and the sand needs a certain humidity.

Katherine demonstrates the singing sand

I was highly amused by the name of this boat.

And of course, this being Northwest Indiana, there are plants sprinkled amidst the other plants.

Rather than building a sand castle, I decided to build a sandy rendition of McGraw Tower.

On the way back, we spotted a few frogs, and Katherine managed to pick one up. Several warts promptly developed afterwards.

All in all, I must say that this was one of the best hikes of my life. I hereby revise my opinion of Indiana's suckitude; there are select parts of Indiana that are awesome. Also, I will never take solid ground for granted again.