Upon deciding to relocate to Columbia in November, my immediate focus did not gravitate towards determining the proximity of our new residence to the Columbia Mall. Surprisingly, my initial inclination did not lean towards exploring the 11 men’s and 22 women’s apparel outlets nestled beneath the expansive roof of the mall. Rest assured, my loyalty lies with my wardrobe from Angels in the Attic in Floyd, which I believe will serve me impeccably for the foreseeable future.
My primary course of action involved validating my recollections from our visits to CoMo a decade ago. I reminisced about the intricate network of pedestrian and biking pathways interwoven amidst verdant spaces seamlessly integrated into the urban and residential fabric, catering to a population of 31,000 university scholars and an additional 100,000 inhabitants.
Estimates vary, suggesting that within the city confines, there exist approximately 50 to 70 miles of trails along with over 3000 acres of parks, with even more expanses awaiting exploration just beyond our new abode on the southern periphery.
Embarking on a 70-mile journey along these trails promises a rich tapestry of topography and biodiversity. Each excursion holds the potential to unveil a new avian species, wildflower, or previously undiscovered tree variant, gradually unraveling the essence of the land. These trails symbolize my conduit to nature, a vital connection I deeply cherish.
For the first time since 2000, we will not be ensconced within the confines of our private wooded sanctuary, where acres of lush foliage and babbling creeks lay just beyond our doorstep. Public lands will now satiate our craving for the outdoors, offering solace, tranquility, and unadulterated natural splendor, albeit requiring a short drive to reach these havens.
Conversely, the 80-acre expanse of Lenoir Woods harbors 30 acres of woodland, complete with trails within earshot of the bustling highway 63. While it may not replicate a true wilderness encounter, its accessibility aligns with our convenience-oriented lifestyle—a factor I meticulously considered before finalizing our decision.
The imminent transplant shock looms large. However, the sight of my first Missouri bloodroot or the melodic call of a Baltimore Oriole, or perhaps an elusive two-lined salamander, will underscore the shared biological tapestry bridging the familiar with the foreign.
Acclimating to the Central Plains will undoubtedly be a gradual process, one that may outlast my remaining years. Yet, akin to Mr. Stills’ poignant lyrics, I am committed to embracing and cherishing this new chapter. I aspire to assimilate into this novel “native” habitat, navigating its terrain with a sense of belonging until I eventually find my way back home.
Contemplating the acquisition of an e-bike to traverse the extensive 70-mile trail network has crossed my mind. Without this modern companion, those miles beyond the initial 2-3 from the trailhead may forever remain an untapped, abstract realm. The feasibility and appeal of this endeavor will only be realized upon our arrival. (Fortunately, e-bikes are available for rent in town!)
Amongst the plethora of trails that adorn Columbia, the Katy Trail stands out as a prominent landmark. Situated mere yards from our son’s new abode, this well-maintained 10.4-mile gravel path offers a scenic route connecting Columbia to the Katy Trail State Park. Meandering through picturesque landscapes encompassing forests, wetlands, and prairies, this trail caters to hiking, biking, and horseback riding enthusiasts. Noteworthy is the fact that this trail ranks as the longest developed rail-trail nationwide, spanning 240 miles across Missouri, tracing the historic Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad route, fondly known as the Katy. Revel in diverse vistas of the Missouri River, bluffs, farmlands, and quaint towns along this remarkable trail, accessible from various points such as Flat Branch Park, Forum Nature Area, and Scott Boulevard Trailhead.
As I embark on this new chapter in Missouri, I contemplate the prospect of cultivating a distinguished gray ponytail and perhaps even adorning a tattoo—a departure from my previous norms. Apologies in advance, dear mom.
(_Note: Angels in the Attic in Floyd is a charitable thrift store that has been our go-to source for jackets, shirts, slacks, and dresses for the past two decades. As we transition to CoMo, we shall seek out its counterpart. Rest assured, you will not find me perusing new attire at the mall or engaging in aimless strolls in HushPuppies for mere exercise. That, I solemnly pledge!_)