I drove miles across dirt roads to find Mushroom Rock State Park. The park is a narrow strip of land consisting of only 5 acres, split in two by the road. There are pit toilets and a single bench provided for minimal comfort, though apparently in the summer there are picnic tables. If you visit I encourage you to bring your own water and sanitary wipes. There is an easy trail on each side of the road that provides an opportunity to get a close look at a handful of interesting rock formations. There were cows grazing in an adjacent pasture who watched me with a minimum of interest.
The information I had on the park told me that Native Americans, pioneers, settlers, and military personnel have all enjoyed stopping to admire the mushroom rocks. And I got a kick out of it – that I was also stopping by and admiring the rocks. Through the passage of time there is no sign that I was there – but I know that I was and somehow this makes me feel like a citizen of the Kansas plains.