Outdoors Reporter Sara Karnes is visiting trails and conservation areas to photograph the sights and write about her adventures. Look for her articles online and in print.

Compared to my first catch-and-keep trout season opener as the Outdoors Reporter, this year's left me much less winded.

If you were reading my hiking series this past year, you may remember me exploring Devil's Kitchen Trail after covering the opening day's events at Roaring River State Park. 

The hike was among the first I did when I started this outdoors beat, and I was quickly out of my comfort zone. It felt like I was hiking uphill both ways and, admittedly, I was ill prepared.

More:Devil's Kitchen Trail was a bit more rugged than anticipated

For this year's opener, I can tell I'm a bit wiser. After wrapping up my coverage at Bennett Spring fish hatchery March 1, I took about a 15-minute break before heading to the Oak-Hickory Trail with my trusty backpack, Dora the Explorer-style but no talking map. I double-checked my map route with the All Trails app and set off.

Oak-Hickory Trail is named so because of its predominant deciduous — trees or shrubs that shed their leaves annually — forest type composed primarily of different kinds of oak and hickory trees, according to Missouri State Parks. The west side of this loop trail was likely used frequently by people living in the area from the 1840s to the present. A group improved the trail during the 1970s.

There were still remnants of snow and ice in the shadier areas of the trail from the previous week's storms, but, thankfully, I didn't slip on it. With winter lingering and the trees still bare, I was struck by how much of the pathway was covered with greenery because of moss.

I've always been a texture person. Food, fabric, you name it. Nothing beats a crunchy, savory meal or running my fingers across the rugged bark of a tree. With a light touch, I investigated the bright green plants with feather-like leaves.

More:Best trails from a year into the Ozarks hiking series, plus a look at what's to come

Rather than continuing waxing poetic, let me tell you what I've learned about moss since this enchanting hike, thanks to archives from the Missouri Department of Conservation.

The color of Missouri's approximately 306 species of mosses varies from black and brownish greens to yellow, golden and whitish green.

Missouri mosses can grow on living or dead trees, on soil, in streams, on rocks and more. Each species grows in specific habitats, such as some mosses that are only found on calcareous rock, like limestone and dolomite, while others grow on siliceous rock, like sandstone and granite.

Mosses help prevent soil erosion and can build back soil, which helps larger plants grow in previously uninhabitable places. The tiny green plants protect small insects.

People have a long history of benefiting from moss, per MDC. 

"Not many years ago, people would use highly absorbent peat moss (in the genus Sphagnum) for diapers and as lining for cribs," according to MDC archives. "When cotton was in short supply during WWI, peat moss was used for bandages. Although more difficult to use, it was more absorbent than cotton and had natural antibiotic qualities that fought infections."

Although dried mosses can be used for medicinal purposes by herbalists, fresh moss has an unpleasant taste.

"It's often described as similar to raw green beans," the archives state. "Other species are reported to have a peppery taste, and one species of moss has been described as overly sweet."

Because mosses are so small, most people can't tell them apart from other species, like algae, lichens and more. I, for one, was shocked to learn that Spanish moss isn't moss at all, but a relative of the pineapple and produces tiny flowers.

Rather than produce by flowers or seeds, mosses reproduce asexually by fragmentation. They contain chlorophyll, which allows mosses to produce their own food. The leaves are one cell thick and absorb nutrients directly into chlorophyll-containing cells. 

Of course, there were "stairs" to climb along the trail, but they weren't nearly as intense as the stone steps at Lakeside Forest Wilderness Area in Branson.

Once at the bridge overlooking the ravine, I took some time to enjoy the view before heading back down the hill.

Sara Karnes is an Outdoors Reporter with the Springfield News-Leader. Follow along with her adventures on Twitter and Instagram @Sara_Karnes. Got a story to tell? Email her at skarnes@springfi.gannett.com.