The first weekend of November 2005 was the opening trip to the new phase of wilderness experiences. We choose the 26 mile long Trace Creek Section of the Ozark Trail. Members of this trip were Jon Mesh, Dave Tudor, Justin Powell, Isaac Noland, Dave Costenaro, Jacob Van Elswyk, Josh Heater and Fly. Since this was my first trip back into the forest with some decent mileage planned, I figured it best to take as many things as
possible. My pack weighed in the neighborhood of 35 pounds. The 4 season 11 pound tent kept the beautiful cloudless sky from soaking my equipment and my 3 pound "river crossing" sandals kept my feet safe while fording the raging rivers Missouri had to offer. My 2 pound white gas stove heated our water in no time flat and the endless pounds of fresh fruit helped fuel our bodies onward. (2008 update...many things have changed since
this trip). We started at the Hazel Creek campground supported by the Mark Twain National Forest off of Z HWY. This campground, it turns out, is THE party spot for the locals. While this trip had no major mishaps, I returned 2 years later to a party that involved shotguns and many, many muffler-less four wheelers. But I digress... we took off early Saturday morning on the peak day of the fall colors. We took a southbound
bearing and cruised through the Hazel Creek valley crushing the newly fallen leaves under our boots. We took our tuna lunch break at midday and then resumed our travels. At around the 13 mile mark we began looking for our campsite. The information on the Ozark Trail website spoke of a secluded spot to the right of the trail under a pine tree and next to a spring. In the waning light we stumbled on the short side trail that led to the private campsite. There was a magnificent tree under which we pitched our tents and the spring provided
an endless supply of fresh water for drinking and cooking. The next morning we awoke to sore muscles and really disgusting dehydrated eggs. After pumping water and striking camp we were back on the trail hoping that some movement would loosen up the muscles which we used up the previous day. After a mile or so we crossed the side trail that marked the start of the Middle Fork section. We passed this up and made it
to 32 HWY where we unloaded two of our members who were unable to make the rest of the journey and promised we'd come back for them when we reached the end. The rest of us dropped our packs, made a day pack with plenty of water, headlamps and toilet paper, and continued towards Ottery Creek. The terrain changed tremendously after 32 HWY since this road represented a sort of Missouri Divide, now water flowed towards Arkansas
and not St. Louis. Every hour we rotated who carried the pack and made it to the vehicles at Ottery Creek in the twilight of that Sunday evening. We jumped in the vehicles and headed back to pick up our packs and energy challenged friends. Back in Potosi we stumbled upon a tradition of eating at the Family Restaurant buffet. Thanks to all who attended this great event, there will be many more. jm
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The first weekend of November 2005 was the opening trip to the new phase of wilderness experiences. We choose the 26 mile long Trace Creek Section of the Ozark Trail. Members of this trip were Jon Mesh, Dave Tudor, Justin Powell, Isaac Noland, Dave Costenaro, Jacob Van Elswyk, Josh Heater and Fly. Since this was my first trip back into the forest with some decent mileage planned, I figured it best to take as many things as 
possible. My pack weighed in the neighborhood of 35 pounds. The 4 season 11 pound tent kept the beautiful cloudless sky from soaking my equipment and my 3 pound "river crossing" sandals kept my feet safe while fording the raging rivers Missouri had to offer. My 2 pound white gas stove heated our water in no time flat and the endless pounds of fresh fruit helped fuel our bodies onward. (2008 update...many things have changed since 
this trip). We started at the Hazel Creek campground supported by the Mark Twain National Forest off of Z HWY. This campground, it turns out, is THE party spot for the locals. While this trip had no major mishaps, I returned 2 years later to a party that involved shotguns and many, many muffler-less four wheelers. But I digress... we took off early Saturday morning on the peak day of the fall colors. We took a southbound 
bearing and cruised through the Hazel Creek valley crushing the newly fallen leaves under our boots. We took our tuna lunch break at midday and then resumed our travels. At around the 13 mile mark we began looking for our campsite. The information on the Ozark Trail website spoke of a secluded spot to the right of the trail under a pine tree and next to a spring. In the waning light we stumbled on the short side trail that led to the private campsite. There was a magnificent tree under which we pitched our tents and the spring provided 
an endless supply of fresh water for drinking and cooking. The next morning we awoke to sore muscles and really disgusting dehydrated eggs. After pumping water and striking camp we were back on the trail hoping that some movement would loosen up the muscles which we used up the previous day. After a mile or so we crossed the side trail that marked the start of the Middle Fork section. We passed this up and made it 
to 32 HWY where we unloaded two of our members who were unable to make the rest of the journey and promised we'd come back for them when we reached the end. The rest of us dropped our packs, made a day pack with plenty of water, headlamps and toilet paper, and continued towards Ottery Creek. The terrain changed tremendously after 32 HWY since this road represented a sort of Missouri Divide, now water flowed towards Arkansas 
and not St. Louis. Every hour we rotated who carried the pack and made it to the vehicles at Ottery Creek in the twilight of that Sunday evening. We jumped in the vehicles and headed back to pick up our packs and energy challenged friends. Back in Potosi we stumbled upon a tradition of eating at the Family Restaurant buffet. Thanks to all who attended this great event, there will be many more. jm
On thing I left out that I remembered the other day was that I had major trouble with my boots...a pair of old Asolo 535's that had served me well for some years. The toe box had shrunk or may feet got bigger because the end of my toes were being jammed against the end of the boot. Long story short, I grabbed Dave Tudors knife that I gave him for a wedding party gift and chopped the end of my boots off. The water infiltration for the rest of hike was a blessing compared to the non-stop bashing my toes were taking. jm
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