Otter Tail County man finds healing on Glendalough trails through photography

A routine built on the trail

Greg Gerhart reaches Glendalough State Park near Battle Lake with a 36-pound backpack, four or five cameras, and a habit that has become part grief work, part survival. Since Denise Gerhart died in spring 2021 after a five-year cancer journey, he has kept walking, kept photographing, and kept returning to the same shoreline and trails until the days feel manageable again.

His wife remains the emotional center of the story. Denise was diagnosed with cancer in 2016, and Gerhart says the lesson she left him still guides him: “She taught me patience.” Another line captures her character just as clearly, describing her as “kind, compassionate, had patience...” Those words explain why this story is about more than a hobby. It is about carrying forward the habits and values of the person who helped shape his life.

How photography became part of recovery

Gerhart is self-taught, originally from Brownsdale, and later lived in Belle Plaine for 17 years before moving to Battle Lake. He worked as a federal meat inspector from 2005 to 2021, then built his days around a new kind of discipline: daily photography, daily movement, and regular returns to the outdoors. He takes photos every day and goes to Glendalough at least twice a week, often walking there nearly every day through winter.

That routine matters because it does more than fill time. Gerhart says photography and the daily hikes helped him avoid depression and supported his sobriety. The camera is not just a creative tool. It is part of the structure that keeps him steady, one trail, one stop, and one frame at a time.

What Glendalough gives him

Glendalough works for that kind of slow, repeated return. The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources says the park is open daily from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m., with hiking, biking, wildlife observation, canoeing, kayaking, sandy swimming, and heritage fishing available. Visitors can borrow a fishing kit from the park office, and the historic Glendalough Lodge offers displays that preserve and interpret the park’s past.

The scale of the place helps explain why it feels restorative. Glendalough includes about 2,000 land acres and about 1,000 acres of water, with marshlands, hardwood forests, shoreline, and native prairies shaping the landscape. For someone trying to rebuild after loss, that mix of openness and shelter matters. The park offers enough quiet to think, but enough movement to keep going.

The image that stays with you

One of the most memorable images in Gerhart’s story is simple: a man moving through the park with enough camera gear to make each walk feel deliberate. He carries up to five cameras into Glendalough, and more than 180 of his photo canvases hang in his living room. That home display turns private grief into a visible record of persistence.

His photographs also leave the house. He shares them as gifts for cancer fundraisers, churches, and other community events, extending a personal coping practice into something that reaches other people. The pictures he makes of Northern Lights, butterflies, mushrooms, and the changing park light carry a plain but powerful message: healing can be built out of repetition, attention, and the choice to keep showing up.

Why the park’s history matters

Glendalough’s place in Otter Tail County predates Gerhart by generations. The property began in 1903 as Valentine’s Camp, later became Glendalough under F. E. Murphy, and was purchased by the John Cowles family in 1941. It remained a private game farm and corporate retreat for about 89 years before being donated to The Nature Conservancy on Earth Day 1990 and transferred to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources in 1992.

That history gives the park more weight than a scenic stop usually carries. Glendalough has long been a place set apart, protected for quiet use, wildlife, and reflection. Today, that preserved landscape gives local residents a place to walk, fish, paddle, and breathe, while also holding a more private kind of meaning for those working through loss.

What to notice on a visit

A trip to Glendalough can be active, quiet, or both, but the park rewards people who slow down enough to notice details. Annie Battle Lake is a 335-acre, non-motorized Heritage Fishery, with special regulations meant to sustain a steady supply of large sunfish, crappie, and the occasional walleye. The Beaver Pond Interpretive Trail and the lodge displays add context for anyone who wants to understand the land as well as use it.

• Bring time for a walk, not just a stop.

• Watch for wildlife near the water, trails, and edges of the woods.

• If fishing is part of the day, ask about the loaner kit at the park office.

• If the goal is quiet, the shoreline and lodge area offer room for it.

Gerhart’s story shows how those simple elements can matter. A familiar route, a camera in hand, and a place that welcomes return can help someone stay upright after a life changes shape.

A lesson for grieving families in Otter Tail County

For other grieving families in Otter Tail County, the takeaway is practical and immediate: healing does not have to look dramatic to be real. It can look like a daily walk, a heavy backpack, and the discipline of going back to the same park until the world feels livable again. In Glendalough, Gerhart found a landscape that matched the pace of recovery, and that is why his story stays with people long after the trail ends.