(note:  This web site, of course, is all copyrighted, but I give general permission for use of everything that I have written or any of my photos, which, let's face it, aren't all that great.  However, this article, and all other field reports, are not mine to give permission to, and this article, specifically, is copyright to the author. )

While attending my 25th college class reunion at St. Meinrad, Indiana., and after three delays due to rain and thunder storms which broke the long drought in southern Indiana this year, I drove over toward Leopold, Indiana to find "Dauby's Hollow".  After following directions which got one to the spot by saying it was 1.2 miles from a particular intersection, there were still two gravel side roads, one dead ended and the other split into two. The area is a bit remote and not well marked.  I found the "gravel road" needed was actually 1.1 mile from the intersection of Old State Road 37 and County road 166A, or otherwise known by folk in that area as Brandon, Indiana.  A handwritten sign instructed hunters not to block the drive. Fortunately for me,  an elderly man who had property next to Dauby's Hollow was there, so he could send me down the proper dirt road(s): the remains of an ol' logging road and a "trail".  I actually could not go any further anyway as his old pick up truck was blocking the road.  He was cutting weeds with clippers and occasionally turned away to continue cutting as he spoke.  I  got a brief history with elongated jumps (that is, with skips of a few decades between events from the Civil war through WWII) of the area, its inhabitants since the groups immigrated from Belgium and Prussia to that area and decided to name Leopold after their King back home in Belgium, that there are two different German Ridges and how ever time the truck came by through Leopold it would drop off  one crypt for burials at St. Augustine in Leopold, because the truck could only haul two at a time.  I'm not sure where that part of the story was going but it did allow for the  jump to  how he got his middle name Augustus " . . .  you know, after St. Augustine, the greatest Catholic philosopher there ever was" There was also a civil war reference about two statues, "only two in the world," and one being in Leopold.  Uninformed of the micro-history, the references passed me.  He was talking to me like I should just know everyone he was talking about, including the guy, "you know, he was the one who flipped his car and had his head drag on the concrete highway fer a ways.  He was no good after that and  not but soon after died from that wreck, never recovered"; "they said he had a heart attack while driving 105 miles per hour, but you know, he had shell shock from WWII"

  I pretended to know, as so far directions to Dauby's Hollow were not forthcoming.  He also knew of my great grandfather's  flour mill in Cannelton, Indiana although I had incorrectly given my Grandfather Mitchell as the owner, and I also learned that my great grandfather Dutschke (on my mother's side) also owned a second flour mill in Brandon, just one mile from the Dauby spot. The ancestors on both sides of the family must have know of each other or perhaps even immigrated together.   I had not known about the Brandon flour mill but later confirmed all these things with my mother, so the guy was pretty accurate.  He did pride himself with, as he said,  " a knower of a bit of history, you see". "I got this land here next to Dauby's Hollow  because the place where I was born became the dam for Tipsaw Lake so we moved over here which was once the "'Flanahan's".Or was that o'Fallagan's or Falmyon's (Flamion's)??  It was hard not to bedelighted in the simpleness of his comments like, "You see they are gone, they died out. That is, they were two sisters but also neither had children; one died at 97, the other around 94 or maybe 95; so they ain't no more, you understand?"  Finally the directions came in parts.  "You go north at the end of my property.  You do know which way is north don't you?"  When I asked him to show me, he pointed and then said  go north along the edge of my property (like that was well marked anyway, duh?)  and that once on the ol' logging road which goes over yonder for less than a mile and  I'd find the "ferrk" and then I would know that from there I should not continue on the old logging road but go to the right.  I wondered what a "ferrk" was supposed to look like but did not want to appear ignorant, so I thanked him.  He moved his old pickup off his drive so I could park on a grass area (the beginning section of the ol' loggin road) where he was trimming weeds, explaining that he gave permission "to them" to use his drive to get to the ol' logging road or maybe the hunters and, I guess, the other "them" (the forest service) to Dauby's Hollow. Not far along the logging road was a clearing opening the forest canopy to the East.  It was filled with wild flowers.  I am guessing that this is the area that must have been cleared for the Dauby homestead. From this point the descent becomes more steep.  It wasn't until I walked a few feet further, and actually got to the "ferrk" that it finally dawned on me that the "ferrk" was actually a "fork" in the old logging road.  From that point the direction to take eventually becomes only a trail about 1/2 foot in width.  Note that these photos were taken in August 2002 during one of the worst droughts in Southern Indiana on record, yet the hollow is green and water easily found.

The descent was a little less than a mile and steep but not difficult. The Hollow is surrounded by cliffs of varying heights and a stream meanders along the bigger cliffs bases. Considering the drought, I was surprised to find water in the streams, even though the rains of the previous day could explain some of the water, it could not account for the fact  that everything was green and lush with many ferns mosses and a thick damp forest carpet.  Even so it was easy to move around. Several smaller streams seemed to have no beginning except that you could see where waterfalls would be in wetter times. 

  With the water low, some caves under the biggest cliffs are visible.  The ol' man had said he located  "at least two, probably some more corn grinding areas from Indian days." but I wasn't going to start digging around down there by myself.

  I was fortunate, (1), to have found someone who knew where to guide me, otherwise I'd be lost in those woods for sure, and probably would have not ventured in on my own. (2) a new rain shower just starting on my descent was a very light one, (3) mosquitos were surprisingly absent as were deer ticks. And (4) no snakes but I do have to admit that I screamed when I stepped on a cicada which gave a sharp shrill!  At least I hope it was a cicada! Perhaps a tree frog?

I'm planning to return in the Spring 2003 as the area has rare wild flowers such as Jack-in the pulpits, similar orchids and ferns and the waterfalls would be present.  I've also drawn a more detailed map to go along with the directions found on the Web site.  If anyone would like them, just say so.  If any one ventures here I would still recommend heavy duty bug spray.  I believe my time there was unusually fairly bug free.

 

 

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