You may be asking, what in the world is this? So did I. When Libby and I had hiked the perimeter at Roundrock last month, we walked along the road for part of the way since it skirts the fence (and because it is easier to walk on a smooth gravel road than in the tall grass.) The mighty white oak tree in this photo is at the bend in our road where it turns to the east and defines much of our northern property line. We've driven or hiked past this tree scores of times. It's a beauty too. The trunk is at least two feet thick at the base, and the branches begin at about shoulder height and spread luxuriously overhead. It would make an excellent site for a tree fort. (Another reason for Pablo to want grandchildren someday.) When my boys were little they were always on the lookout for good "hideout" trees, and this one certainly would have served. But this tree was set back a bit from the road, blocked by low-hanging branches and some fallen snags, and I had never really walked up close to it to examine it. So it wasn't until last month that I found this odd bit of metal hammered into the trunk of the tree. It's about a foot off the ground, and it looks like it has been there for a long time. Certainly longer than I have been around Roundrock. At first I thought it might be a gate pin of some kind, and I stepped back to examine the area to see why it might have ever been gated. The lay of the land clearly is not suited for any kind of gate here. A small fold in the ground begins here, and it eventually leads to the nearby pond. Nor was there a corresponding "pin" higher up the tree, which would have been needed for any gate. I dismissed that idea quickly. Then I touched the metal tab. You can't tell from this photo, but the top surface of the horizontal part of the tab is textured like a tool handle. Or a tread. And that's what I think this is. A sort of ladder rung to allow someone to climb into the generous branches just overhead. Now why would someone want to do that? Well, as I noted, the pond is nearby. And, coincidentally, the tree stand in my neighbor's farm field is also nearby. Hideout tree, indeed! It seems likely to Pablo's tiny brain that this was a hunter's access into the upper reaches of the tree where he could perch and wait for some unsuspecting deer to approach the nearby pond for an innocent drink and perhaps conversation with other deer. Well, I've stated several times before that I am not opposed to hunting. And I'm pretty sure this little step predates my tenure at Roundrock, so I don't think it's evidence of recent interlopers. In fact, it may be that the tree stand in my neighbor's field is an indication of how successful this corner of the Ozarks is for attracting game. If the hunter was accustomed to using this tree, but then the property changed hands, he (or she) might have built the tree stand nearby in order to stay in the area. (Do these regular flights of speculation I indulge in annoy anyone?) All of this leads me to considering again something I have considered before. I've long thought that I should bring a metal detector with me on my hikes about Roundrock. I've found a few things before. Once I found a horseshoe. And then there was this mystery for a short while. And when my contractor was building the dam, he lost a bit of the blade on his dozer. Somewhere in the lakebed lurks a piece of steel about three feet by one foot by two inches. I'd like to return it to him some day. I'm always interested in discovery at Roundrock, and it seems to me that sweeping the ground with a metal detector just might lead me to all sorts of interesting discoveries and mysteries. Winter is the time to do it too since the going is much more easy. Of course if I have to dig up a tantalizing ping in the frozen ground I may change my mind. And there is another potential use for a metal detector. I could sweep the possible burial mounds at Fallen Timbers. As I've noted before, if they truly are burial mounds, then federal and state law protect them from being disturbed. And, really, basic respect does too. Yet if I could detect a bit of metal within the mounds, then at least I would know that they are not natural formations but something human-made.

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 11th, 2006 at 1:35 am and is filed under Fallen Timbers, History, Mysteries. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.