Trinity Forest

Just south of Dallas there's a big tract of land called Trinity Forest. I've seen it on gravelmap, and always been curious. The exact location always had me concerned though. It's alleged to be gravel, but sometimes gravel just means natural surface, and you're rolling the dice down there. It could be glorious decomposed limestone, impervious to rain, or it could be that afwul Blackland Clay. It seems like it's always rained right before I think about going over there too, so I'm always on the fence about it.

With no more attractive option available, I took the gamble and drove over, mid-day.

There were several trailheads, but the most attractive appeared to be Eco Park. There was a big lot, and some building adjacent to it...

...and a traik kiosk.

Seemed like a good spot. There were several cars in the lot when I got there, but I didn't notice any other bike racks.

Popular place?

I got dressed and ready, making sure to wear appropriately warm clothes, as I had on the last ride.

Ok, lets go...

I crossed the street and took a look at the you-are-here map.

Off to the left, I noticed this wierd, unfamiliar oak.

No idea what that is. I wouldn't even have known that it was an oak, except for the acorns. Odds are that it's some oak that I do know, but the leaves are different in Texas, or something.

There were also these walking sticks making sweet, sweet love. Woohoo, procreation!

It looked like I needed to head down a closed road for a bit, and then it would just become the trail. This turned out to be true, but the trail it became was paved.

Ha! All that worry about gravel or clay, and it was paved all along.

Damn you, gravelmap!

In their defence, it may have been unpaved at one point. I'm sure my maps of the Atlanta Beltline are inaccurate at this point, too.

There were a few side trails, but they looked wet and a bit overgrown. No more overgrown that bits of the East Texas Trail, mind you, but they were definitely swampy. More suited for future exploration in the dry season.

After a while, I crossed...

...the Trinity River.

That seems to be a theme these days. I'd crossed it on the Denton Greenbelt too.

A bit further up, there were a series of lakes.

It looked like there might have once been a campground, or picnic area, and maybe some trails off to the left, among the lakes, but it was all fenced off and overgrown now.

I eventually ended up in the AT&T Lot...

...on the AT&T trail.

Which was much like the Trinity River Trail.

I eventually discovered another lake.

This one, complete with a busted old boat near the shore.

There was also a good bit of unfamiliar vegetation nearby. What are these weird things?

I should probably learn Texas foliage, if I'm going to be running around out there.

After winding around through the woods for ages, I eventually popped out into a neighborhood. Ahead of me, the trail was in the process of being constructed. And, by that, I mean that there was literally a construction crew there, at that moment, pouring concrete. It looked as if the trail used to end abruptly there, but they'd just built a trail running perpendicular to it, and were filling in the last bit of the intersection between the two trails.

I wasn't sure which way to go, and consulting the map didn't really help. The map showed that I should have been able to turn left earlier, jog across some marshland, then head either north to another lot, or south back to my car. I'd seen the turn off though. There was no trail. It looked like there was intent to eventually build one, but none currently existed, paved, gravel, dirt, or otherwise.

Hmm... I ended up consulting the map on my phone for a while, trying to figure out what to do next. It looked like if I headed north, I could finagle my way up above the highway, head west a bit, come back down to the next exit, jog over to a park, and pick up a levee trail over to where I wanted to be.

This took a lot more time and effort than I expected. The scale of Texas is bigger than you think. Stuff is spread out. If you zoom the map so that you can see 2 exits, you're at the next zoom level down from being able to see 2 exits in Atlanta. Those exits are twice as far apart as you might expect. Or, at least, as I might expect.

On the upside, the roads were relatively quiet for a weekday. There was one awkward situation where a school bus was parked on the shoulder, with its hazards on. I went around it in the grass, only for it to get going again right as I was passing. Do I keep passing? Do I let it go? It's going pretty slowly. Does he want me to pass? He'll just have to pass me again...

After riding through some fairly low income nighborhoods and light industrial areas, I found my intended destination: William Blair Park.

I could even see the levee running along the back edge of the park. Score!

So, I rode over to where the road crossed the levee, and, great...

No trespassing on the levee.

Maybe.

Hard to say, actually. The sign specifically says that "Operation of Motor Vehicles is Prohibited on the Levees." However, then lower down it says "Damaging a levee by using an off-road or other vehicle..." Is a bicycle a vehicle in Texas? I'm not sure. It's not in Georgia, but it is in Tennessee. Then there's the less obvious, fine-print sign to the upper left that says "NOTICE: This property is owned or controlled by the city of Dallas and is closed to the public. Any persons entering or remaining on this property is in violation of... some statute..." Goodness. I'm not a lawyer. I didn't have time to look up the statues and determine whether they really applied to me on a bike. Sometimes you see signs like that, but then also see a dozen people walking their dogs up on the levee or something. There wasn't anyone on the levee though. I couldn't just be like: "Hey, do they care if I ride my bike here?"

The last thing I needed was to get arrested. The second to last thing that I needed was to get a few miles down and get told that I couldn't be there, and would have to turn around and go back. My general rule is: If it says don't, I won't, but if it doesn't say don't, I might. This appeared to say "don't" and there wasn't anyone around to ask.

Fine.

I ended up figuring out that I'd have to get up on some 4-lane highway, cross the river, get off at the next exit, and pick up the trail there.

This was also more involved than I expected, both because of the scale of Texas, and also because they were doing construction on the entrance to the highway. The shoulder was the full width of a lane, but it was completely occupied by construction equipment. I had to wait for a big enough space between cars that I could book it past. Of course, this was on the entrance ramp, which was a climb.

Adventure!

Oh, it was also semi interesting just heading in the direction of the entrance ramp. I passed a row of junkyards, a local convenience store, and what might have been a local bar. It was quitting time, and the streets were full of people. Some were walking around, but others appeared to be getting comfy for spending the evening right there out in the street. People were pulling out folding chairs and listening to music. Burn barrels were lighting up. One guy was burning a big ass tree stump in between a couple of big blocks of concrete. Everybody was a character. They were all shouting at each other, but it was mostly good natured. It's funny... I've ridden through a lot of low-income neighborhoods, and consistently, nobody seems to have any idea what to make of me. I've thought about it a lot, actually. I guess it's kind of an uncanny valley thing? Local guys ride bikes around low income areas all the time, but I don't look like a local guy on a local bike. My bike and clothes might look expensive, except that they, and I, are often way more beat up, worn, and filthier than the folks around me. I'm usually moving pretty fast too, but I'm not on the rivet, so maybe I don't look like I'm making an effort to get out of the area. It's got to be confusing. Whatever quick assumption one might make is just as quickly countered. People tend to look at me then look away before I do, or they just never look at all. It's a lot different than walking through a low income area.

I managed to scoot past the construction equipment, get on the shoulder, and ride up over the river. I could see the trail that I needed to be on below me, and it was pretty reassuring.

Except that it was false reassurance!

I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to get onto the actual trail. After riding around for like 10 minutes, I finally figured out that there was a parking lot under part of the bridge, and maybe if I went to the far back of the lot, then the trail might emerge from it. However there were also all kinds of signs like the ones on the levee, and newly erected fences... It looked like nobody wanted me riding around back there either.

I could head east, then south a bit (on another 4 lane highway), then pick up the Great Trinity Forest Way (also a 4 lane highway) and there ought to be another actual parking lot there. If that didn't work, I could keep going south on roads. I didn't have to cross any more major waterways. It was good that I finally had decent options too, because it was getting kind-of late, and I was still a long way from the truck. I gave that a shot.

Aside from having to go around multiple 18-wheelers parked on the shoulder, everything worked out easily.

As I turned on to the Great Trinity Forest Way, I noticed a motel down below me... The Romantic Inn and Suites. Mirror and Jacuzzi Suites available!

Can I get a suite with both?

I pulled off of the highway into what appeared to be a parking area for the trail. In theory, the trail should lead both north and south out of the lot. South would lead back to my truck, but to the north was that section of trail that I was unable to access earlier. I was really curious about it. Did it really just end at that forbidden lot, or did I just not see where I was supposed to pick it up?

As I headed down toward the parking area, I notied that it was gated, and the gate was closed. It's generally ok to go around gates like that on a bike, so I did, but as I made my way over toward where I expected the trail heading north to be, I noticed a police cruiser parked way down by the river. I felt sure he was there to kick people out. I mean, the gate is closed and locked. Again, the last thing I needed was to get arrested, but the second to last thing I needed was to be told to go home some other way. Rather than tempt fate by exploring the northern section of the trail, and risking getting the attention of the cops, I headed immediately south, back toward my truck.

Almost immediately, I passed Little Lemmons Lake, which really caught my attention.

Man, so many beautiful early evening skies on that trip to Texas.

The ride back to the truck was pretty uneventful. I did see one side trail, but the soil conditions didn't make it look too inviting.

Right as I approached the Eco Park lot, I passed like 4 small horse trailers. The horses were out of them, and they looked like they were going out for a ride, rather than coming in. "Ok, if I come by?" "Sure, come on through!" "Thanks!" I want to say the logos on the trailers indicated that the ranch was associated with some film studio, or something. I don't remember exactly. Also, I saw Nope since then, so maybe I'm just confusing it with that.

So, the Trinity River Trail proper wasn't especially interesting, but the overall expereince was a weird sort of sly fun. Definitely memorable.

The trail appears to be under active development. I'll have to keep tabs on it. I'll have to do a little research on the levee trails too. Maybe people ride them all the time, and it's totally fine to do. If so, I'll check them out next time I'm in the area.