JACKSON, La. — A nature preserve with just two miles of trail might not seem worth a 11⁄4-hour drive to get there. But the Nature Conservancy doesn’t pick just any old tract of land for a preserve.
Besides, I needed to try out my new day pack and hiking boots.
So I left McComb at noon one day recently headed for the Mary Ann Brown Nature Preserve. I took I-55 south to Kentwood, La., and turned west on Highway 38.
The road winds through the woods to Highway 10, which soars westward in a wide, straight shot over the Amite River and through the scenic bergs of Clinton and Jackson, La.
Past Jackson, I crossed the east and west forks of shallow, sandy Thompson Creek, then turned south on Highway 965, shaded by a canopy of trees. In just over a mile, a parking area opened on the right for the Mary Ann Brown Nature Preserve.
n n n
I ran across the preserve while perusing the book “50 Hikes in Louisiana” by Janina Baxley, a superb guide to all sorts of neat areas across the Bayou State.
“This beautiful pocket of rolling hills and mature beech and magnolia forest skirts the eastern border of the spectacular Tunica Hills,” according to the book. “The preserve doubles as an ecological-education site for youngsters from all over southeastern Louisiana.”
Mr. and Mrs. L. Heidel Brown donated the 109-acre tract to the Conservancy in memory of their daughter.
It looked promising. A wooden fence bordered the small, empty parking lot. A gated road led into the interior for groups that reserve a pavilion and fishing pond. To the right, the hiking trail entered the woods.
A register at the kiosk showed recent visitors from Virginia and Texas as well as Louisiana. A Texas birdwatcher listed sightings of yellow-billed cuckoo, Eastern bluebird, wood thrush, summer tanager and downy woodpecker. Some kind soul had left a hiking stick leaning against the kiosk as well.
Wearing my brand-new hiking boots and camouflaged day pack, along with my camera bag, I set off down the path into the forest.
n n n
I got the boots and pack on a recent trip to Jackson, Tenn., to see my granddaughter Ella’s high school graduation ceremony. While there, I paid a trip to a local Academy Sports & Outdoors.
The place was huge. Pastel kayaks were stacked on top of each other, on shelves and leaning against the wall. You might not think kayaks would be popular in west Tennessee, where the rivers are channelized and muddy, but they obviously are. I suspect people use them for fishing.
I halfway needed a day pack, as I left my last one in Thailand for use by the Free Burma Rangers. I rarely use a pack any more — I either take a vest with pockets or a shoulder bag, if anything. But this store had them by the dozen, in every conceivable color and style.
I began to suspect that pack makers churn out the same basic products but with a different look for each niche market.
One batch was for the “tactical” customer. They came in tan or black and had a paramilitary look. Another group was for hunters, in camo. Other selections of packs in different parts of the store targeted campers, backpackers, general use and team sports.
The prices were more than I cared to spend — until I saw a camo hunter pack for $26.99. I tried it on and it fit well.
Similarly, I didn’t really need a pair of hiking boots. I have a pair, but they’re ancient and stiff and I’ve outgrown them. Usually I just wear either my work boots (ankle-high Georgia Giants) or rubber boots when tromping the woods.
But I saw some Columbia boots for $65. They were lightweight and provided good ankle support.
I made the purchases. Now I just needed somewhere to try them out.
n n n
As the guidebook warns, the trail looked pretty “unpromising” at first — little different from any local woods except for numerous markers identifying trees.
But after a few curves, I came to a sandy creek bed wending through steep clay bluffs. Ferns glowed in the gloom from mossy hummocks. The vegetation was lush in the Louisiana hot-house atmosphere.
The trail meandered through hills and hollers, with some banks so steep that wooden staircases had been built to cross them. The trail makes a double loop, with an optional shorter loop tacked on for a total of about two miles. Wooden benches along the way allow for rest stops, which I needed after one steep climb.
I paused often to admire the views and the plants. But the mosquitoes and deerflies kept me from lingering.
Eventually the trail comes around to a large pavilion with picnic tables, a barbecue shed and an open field — just right for group day-use. At the edge of the field is a large pond with a quaint pavilion called the Pond House.
The levee was crowded with interesting plants. I’m no expert, but I thought I recognized maypops and wild sunflower stalks.
In fact, this whole preserve is a feast for plant lovers.
Sweaty and tired, I sat down in the pond house to enjoy the view. I took off my pack to let the breeze dry my sweat-soaked shirt.
The sun was out after an overcast day. Birds sang from every direction.
Turtles surfaced, and two of them swam up to one another nose to nose as if to kiss. Small bream clustered in the water around the structure, especially on the shady side.
In all, the hike took me nearly 1 1⁄2 hours, slightly longer than the drive. The pack and the boots passed the test.
I headed back east through Jackson and took a different route home: north on Louisiana Highway 19 and Mississippi 33 to Centreville, then east on Highway 24.
