March 19, 2026.
9 mi. | 820′ ele. gain | 3:50 hr.
Having grown up on the East Coast and living most of my adult life on the West Coast, I had never made it a priority to explore the middle of the country. Since we were on the road full time and had the time to go wherever we wanted, I decided we should try and see what the middle was all about. Also, I was getting pretty close to hitting all 50 states, so it was time to visit the “I” states. After Iowa, we turned to Illinois.
My friend Matt had recommended a stop at Starved Rock State Park. With lots of trails to choose from, I stopped into the visitor center to get more information. After looking at the map, noting which trails were closed and speaking with a ranger, I decided to hike out to Hennepin Canyon, following the interior trails when I could. On the way back, I prioritized the river trail. I made one extra detour into LaSalle Canyon, only because the ranger said it was her favorite. I was in for quite a treat there.
Aaron joined me on his lunch break and we hiked up to Starved Rock, where we sat and ate our lunch. From there, he headed back to the van and I continued on the trails. I came into this hike with zero expectations and with having done very little research. Waterfalls in Illinois, huh? I assumed I would not be impressed, and resigned myself to just enjoying a leg stretcher on a lovely afternoon.
But soon, I realized there was much here to appreciate. From the sweet birdsong to the fascinating liverworts, delicate icicles and diverse fungi, I found a pleasant surprise around every corner. Though it was still only March, I was desperately searching for signs of spring, and the nascent green leaves sprouting up along some of the trails gave me hope for something in bloom. I pressed on.
Admittedly, I rolled my eyes at the thoughts of canyons and waterfalls in Illinois but that was my myopic Western US lens in action. I found so much beauty in each little crease and fold in the landscape, each drizzle and drip of water making its way towards the river. The last of the icicles clinging to the edges of north-facing canyons. The moments of quiet between families out enjoying the trails. The reason for intentionally spending time in the Midwest suddenly became very clear: I hated this place without ever setting foot here. Why?
Hiking alone on this day, I had plenty of time to process these thoughts on the trail.
As the day wore on, the sun rose higher and shone more brightly. I had to take layers off and take more breaks in the shade. Hot? In March? I really did show up here without having any idea what it was about. The whole experience felt very humbling.
I reached a so-so lookout above Hennepin Canyon and decided that would be my turn-around point. I wanted to make it back to the visitor center before it closed so I could run in and get some ice cream. But on my return route, I remembered the suggestion the ranger gave me: LaSalle Canyon. I still had time, so I turned up the (temporarily) one way trail.
Hiking up through the same leafless trees and gray rock I’d been seeing all day, something new caught my eye. Could it be? YES! The first blooming flowers of the season! In that moment, I decided: spring had arrived.
I squatted down, so excited to figure out what I’d found. They were tiny white flowers that seemed to sprout straight out of the earth. Not a leaf in sight. As I continued up the trail. I found more of these little flower clusters. Some of the petals were tinged with purple. A clue. The stems were covered in long, soft hairs. Another clue. Leaves! Oh wait, those belong to another plant. Not a clue. I kept searching. I sat down at the end of the trail, in view of the small waterfall, and used the wildflower app on my phone to create a list of possible identifications. Once I had some ideas of what leaves to look for, I found them. And there it was: sharp-lobed hepatica. Hooray!
Though most visitors appeared to be there for the waterfalls, fresh air and exercise, I found myself more excited than ever to be in the presence of the season’s first blooms. I stopped and photographed every one I could find, which wasn’t easy; most of them were growing on steep dirt slopes below the trail and above the creek.
The rest of the hike was a blur. I was so enamored with my flowery find that I breezed back to the parking lot, taking the most direct route. I stopped once to observe some big, white birds on the river. Pelicans! Another lovely surprise.
One last interesting thing to note: color coded posts marking whether you’re hiking towards or away from the Visitor Center. I’m not sure I’ve seen this kind of system before, but it absolutely makes sense. This park likely sees a lot of visitors who don’t hike a ton, and the only thing they need to know is which direction they’re headed related to the main parking area. Of course, this doesn’t help if you’ve parked elsewhere, but I thought it was a clever way to help people not get lost.
Back at the visitor center, I rushed inside to order two cups of ice cream, one for me and one for Aaron. I sat on a bench, took my shoes off and enjoyed the cold treat under the blazing March sun. What an incredible day! I learned not to underestimate the parks and natural spaces in the Midwest and to approach each new place with greater humility, curiosity and respect.
