Why Does it Smell Like Maple Syrup?

My first thought was, maybe it was the waffle that morning. Then again, the "Elvis" at Wally Waffle comes with honey, so the distinct smell of maple syrup couldn't have been coming from my pores as the heat sucked all the fluid from my body. Nevertheless, there it was, clear as day, in the middle of the woods.

Now, Ohio does have a strong maple syrup production base, but not in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Maybe the heat was getting to me. The Buckeye Trail from Blue Hen falls was almost deserted, except for the family that was returning from viewing a rather pitiful water fall.

"The water's pretty low, so there's not much to see," said the man of the family. I thanked him and started bounding down the uneven asphalt, perhaps better remembered as "Beast Mode" hill.

I've gone back to wearing my New Balance Minimus Zero trail shoes, which have a ridiculous number of holes in the mesh around the toes and along the sides. They make me feel light and quick.

My legs are starting to come around, as I continue to regain fitness. Still, the first big uphill reduced me to a hike.

One of the big mental hurdles I've had as a road runner switching over to running trails is that mastery comes when you no longer have to walk. How many of us have been proud of ourselves for making it through our first marathon without walking?

That mentality just doesn't fly on trails. You take what the trail gives you, and sometimes that means a walk break. The idea is to just keep moving.

This isn't the first time this idea has been a topic for Team BHI, which was covered in the series of Viper's Trail Tips last year. Considering I only made it up to No. 3 proves I still have a lot to learn and sometimes relearn about trail running. To recap, those Trail Tips were:

• No. 1: Scatter Step
• No. 2: Pick Up Your Feet
• No. 3: Walk the Hills

These may be my core set of trail running skills. I can't think of a single run through the woods that hasn't required all three, usually with a reminder courtesy of tripping on a tree root and nearly flopping face first into the dirt. 

Knock on wood: I've still never fallen on a trail run, even when the smell of maple syrup tickled my olfactory senses and distracted me from the terrain. 

There was a mossy clearing just past the water crossing, near where I smelled that maple syrup, and it looked like someone had planted a stubby tree branch in the ground as a marker. It had the feeling of a gathering place.

Perhaps some maple cult met here on dewy mornings to sup on syrupy confections. Perhaps the ground was consecrated with blessed gooey goodness. Perhaps I'm a bit obsessed. 

Running and Roaming

Although the Everett Road Covered Bridge has marked the starting point for many runs, my outing last night covered new ground.

Instead of heading to the familiar Perkins Trail or Riding Run, my route first started by climbing the long set of log stairs to the untried Furnace Run trail, a short loop up and over the back of a steep hill and down to a creek bed and back for two miles. A short distance though it was, the hill climbing made me dread completing my goal of five miles on either of the other trails nearby.

Rather than kill myself on more trails, the remaining three miles were logged by exploring the area on foot.

On the other side of the covered bridge from the parking lot is Oak Hill Road, a strange road that splits up at odd places. While driving through the area, I've noticed faded markings for the Buckeye Trail, but according to recent maps the trail has been diverted away from these grounds to the Towpath Trails, which is less than a mile east from here.

My hope was to find an offshoot from the road to old trails that I could follow. There was some distinct trails to the left of the covered bridge, but following them resulted in a dead end. My guess is these paths are used by fishermen looking for a place to cast their rods into the creek.

I returned to Oak Hill Road and began running toward Hale Farm and Village. This section of the old Buckeye Trail has been somewhere I've been considering running for quite some time. I had hoped it wasn't all on-road, but it appears that it is.

Along the road, which I've driven many times (it's a fun, twisting road), I noticed a number of overgrown driveways, some of which were blocked by parking signs. These are no doubt houses that the National Park Service purchased via eminent domain during the 1970s and 1980s when the Cuyahoga Valley National Park was first created.

It's a strange feeling to see these signs of abandonment amid such beautiful landscape. And it's odd that while some houses sit empty others are still inhabited.

The park made deals with many of the residents to purchase the property but allow the residents to remain there for the rest of their lives or until they decided to move. Others were forced to leave.

Now, the park is trying to bring farming back to the Cuyahoga Valley, after spending so many years forcing farmers who once made their living here to give up their property "for the good of all."

When I reached Hale Farm, it was about time to turn around, but first I decided to explore this historic village. There are events here throughout the year, and reenactors portray life in the 1800s. Unfortunately, Mrs. Viper and I have never visited during one of these events, despite saying that we should one of these days.

The village was quiet. I poked around the various buildings, including a church, pottery kiln, general store, barns, houses, and a small farm patch owned by Great Lakes Brewing, dubbed Pint Size Farm.

On my way back to the car, two large pelotons rode by on their fancy bikes. A group of walkers were taking in the sights. This beautiful park has a dark history, but it's a resource that I cherish.