A late summer hike beyond the bridge

It started out as a bridge to nowhere, and since no one really had deep ambitions to check out Nowhere, it stood, at least momentarily, as a folly. But it was a handsome folly, especially since it was a covered bridge. It had lights, and window planters, and it traversed the stream at an enticing angle. It was positioned near busy Lake Road, and it was easily seen. I looked at it every time I traveled past it. I looked and I wondered "Why build such a nice bridge to nowhere?" Years later, really good birding reports started coming from the Sheffield Lake Recreation Trail. Since it was not far from home, I decided to explore this trail. At first, I didn't know how to access the trail, so I parked in the middle of it at Ferndale Park. I wandered north. It was a beautiful, paved trail that wandered along a small stream. As it did I wondered, and I wondered correctly. This trail led to and over the covered bridge to nowhere. Wow! It wasn't a folly, it was a catalyst … and a darn great one. Today, I parked in a small gravel lot right next to the covered bridge. My hoodie kept the 50-degree temperature out, but my shorts hinted at the promise of the day turning warm. Camera, binoculars, cell phone with eBird called up and I was ready to go. There were three main objectives to today's hike. 1.) Get a decent number of steps registered on my Apple watch; 2.) Find a few flurries of "confusing" fall warblers; and 3.) Figure out what to write about this week. Without suspense, I got all three. Little did I know, however, that the trail itself would show me enough stories to end up becoming the story itself. Heading south, the trail rises up what is probably a remnant beach ridge. From there, it is fairly flat, except for the imperceivable rise that happens when you head south on the Lake Plain. My watch told me the entire hike had a mere 30-foot elevation gain. The stream, whose name I do not know, parallels the trail for the first half mile. It is tainted with phragmites and poison hemlock, but still flows freely. It is, no doubt, fed by all of the storm drains within its watershed. Flittering birds and mammal footprints are common along its length. I find my first flurry of warblers … magnolias will rule this day. River willows are great for fall birding as they have the smallest leaves, and this section of trail has lots of willows. A little further on and catbirds call for my attention. Incidentally, I also pick up the calls of two thrushes, a veery and a Swainson's. They must have looked at the calendar and noted it was September. I am earlier than usual on the trail today, and only a few people pass by, and only one asked what I was looking for. Most hikers are focused on leashed dogs and deep conversations. I saw no birders or photographers today, and that's a first. There was plenty of maintenance going on though. Trail edges were being mowed and string trimmed, as was in the intersected Ferndale Park. It all greatly interrupted my "birding by ear," but as a former park manager I know grass doesn't cut itself, and park users demand well-kept parks and trails. South of Ferndale Park, the trail takes a ninety-degree turn to the east. Here it follows a paper version of Oster Road. The trail is dead-straight here, and the vegetated edges dense enough to give the feel of it being a woodland trail. Gray dogwood and various hybrids of grapes make up the edge. The dogwood berries are plentiful, probably because the birds are still feasting on the current abundance of midges. In a few days, however, these berries will be stripped clean and provide fuel for migration. The trail remains paved until Idlewood Avenue, then becomes a thin gravel path. This path leads east, and perfectly aligns with Oster Road where it intersects with Harris Road. The south side of the trail is a very wet and undeveloped woodland owned by the Lorain County Metro Parks. When this park comes "online," it will be well connected. Being so straight, the trail reveals distant things without much anticipation. Several deer walk well in front of me or cross the trail. At one point, I can see a doe and two fawns cross the trail with a distant school bus passing behind them. To my surprise, once the school bus passes, two further deer cross Oster Road and head into the neighborhoods. Even more surprising, a flock -- a "rafter" actually -- of wild turkeys wander out of the housing development to the north. They park in the trail to check me out and then they start feeding. It is only when I am within 50 feet that they wander into the forest to the south. Their naked heads were an awesome "baby" blue, and when they walked through the darkness of the woods, their heads almost glowed. There is a large ditch parallel to the northside of this section of trail. It is wide and filled with water. Occasionally I hear a frantic frog leap out of the grass along its banks and into the water. The muddy trail along the ditch's bottom perfectly gives away its hiding place. Several large drainage pipes run under the trail here and seem to be an attempt to drain the soggy woods to the south. The effort seems fruitless as the forest floor looks soaked, and the ditches leading to these pipes appear dry. I make it to Harris Road, and now it is time to turn around. A couple of flurries of warblers, a stop to clear the gravel out of my shoes and I make it back to covered bridge. My watch tells me I went 2.84 miles and took 6,821 steps. It can't tell me that I had a great, late summer morning hiking a great trail -- a trail that just happens to have a bridge to somewhere.