From Winter to Summer - Back on my home Trail

When I left northern Wisconsin it was 22 degrees F.  After a 1200 mile drive I arrived at my little piece of beach paradise and was greeted by a temperature closing in on 80.

On my last hike in Wisconsin, it was snowing and I was wearing multiple layers.  This morning, three days later, I was sweating and shedding the one extra layer I had brought along as I did a sunrise beach hike with temperature in the upper 60's.

With wildlife viewing like this, and with different sky and sand conditions daily, beach hiking never gets old for me.

Today I hiked down to touch base with my home trail - North Carolina's official State Trail, a 1175 mile 'linear State Park' called the Mountains-to-Sea Trail (MST).

Back in 2013 and 2014 I worked hard to get this trail routed out to Topsail Island.  I scouted the route then showed it to the decision makers who could make it happen, and they did the rest.  Thank you, Kate Dixon!!!  Just this summer, the route was formally designated by the NC State Legislature as the official MST route, and the local denizens got busy marking it.

This oversized white blaze with marker post is meant to be visible from quite a distance as hikers who are coming eastbound, up the beach from Surf City, approach, looking for the exit point.

As of this writing, Jennifer Pharr Davis, National Geographic Adventurer of the Year, noted for holding the Appalachian Trail speed record, is doing a Through Hike of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, in celebration of its 40th anniversary.  This trail is seriously 'going places'!

But back to my own little hike.  The beach is full of fishermen this time of year, as is the adjacent ocean.  They're pulling them in thick and fast.

Look closely just right of center on the horizon and you can see the New River Inlet buoy.  When the wind is calm, as it was on this hike, you can hear its haunting foghorn--similar to the sound you make blowing over the top of an empty bottle.

Like all good hikes, beach hiking is a feast for all five senses.  The sound of the waves breaking on the sand is, of course ubiquitous.  The gulls and other birds can kick up a racket.  When the wind comes off the ocean there's that distinctive briny sea smell.  Off the land and I can smell the marsh grass and mud.  Sometimes I can even smell bacon cooking as I pass a cottage full of early rising vacationers.  Despite being early November, the clean saltwater is still warm enough for comfortable swimming.  Great barefoot hiking weather--toes in the soft cool sand.

What a treat it is to be back on the beach.

Hiking Wisconsin's Mountain-Bay State Trail

It's one of the longest rail trails in the state - 83 miles from Weston near Wausau, to the west side of Green Bay.  It surely has one of the longest boardwalks for a rail trail.  Shown above, this 1/4-mile crossing of a deep bog was a major challenge for the original railroad builders.

Of course this is not pure foot-trail in the woods.  Its greatest use is by snowmobiles in the winter.  But it sure beats road walking.  I'm hiking the Mountain-Bay Trail to avoid a lot of Ice Age Trail road walking and to pursue the most 'Scenic Route' to my next destination -- my birthplace in Madison.  The Mountain-Bay Trail makes a bee-line toward the eastern end of the Ice Age Trail, which is much more developed, with much lower percentage of connecting road walks.  I'll resume the Ice Age trail at its Eastern Terminus and take it the 'long way around' to Madison.  That will give me the chance to do a substantial portion of this great state trail.  This route will also take me through areas of the state where my family roots run deep--places where I'm likely to be related to more than half the people I meet.

This report covers fifty miles of trail--all that I managed to hike before winter sent me migrating south.

These gigantic wet, sloppy snowflakes were accompanied by a clap of thunder.  It snowed hard for about an hour.  I took shelter under the dense cover of a thicket of hemlock trees.  That night it snowed some more and the salt trucks were out treating the roads.  The next morning the local Rib Mountain Ski Area (the mountain that the trail is named for) was in full snow-making mode, with the temperature hovering in the low 20's.  Winter comes fast and without warning in northern Wisconsin.

Sights of note along this former railroad grade include the obligatory 'infinity' shots, such as this 'green tunnel' view with wild turkeys

and this one that also features the highlight of the new season -- crunchy fresh-fallen leaf season.

There was only one paved section--a couple miles through the County Seat of Shawano.  Here the trail was enhanced by the biggest concentration of winterberries I've seen in ... well ... maybe forever.

Most trees and shrubs have gone bare now, revealing a distinctive twig pattern on this one.

Other sign of the season: a leaf-speckled pond ...

... and the way the perennial plants that are holding on to their leaves are hunkering down--turning dark-colored and hugging the surface in order to stay out of the cold wind and to absorb every last bit of heat that the weak winter sun offers.

The big, noisy Sand Hill cranes were gathering in flocks, which they only do when they're preparing to migrate.

Every five miles or so this trail provides a nice picnic pavilion.

Judging from the growth of weeds, most of these appear to get little or no use.  One of the reasons for that may be the $5 per day (or $25 annual pass) user fee that is required of bicyclers.  At every trailhead, such as here at the Eland rail depot, there are these green signs and payboxes.

The logic of charging bicyclers a fee stems from the dominance of Snowmobile users.  Wisconsin requires them to pay a registration fee to use the trails, and the State justifies these fees as necessary to maintain the trail system; so it seems that Snowmobilers took offense at the idea that bicycle users would get free use of the trail they are effectively paying for.

There aren't many places where the trail offers scenery other than nice remote wetlands and quiet woods, but it did pass this lakeside park in the town of Norrie, with its huge old willows.

And in Sturgeon Park in Shawano, the wooden sturgeon--exact replica of the biggest fish ever captured (for tagging)--stands beside the Wolf River where it lived.

So that's it for my Wisconsin adventures for the season.  I'll pick up where I left off in spring.  Here's an overview of the route I've taken to this point.  Zoom in to the NW part of the map to get a closer look at my most recent travels.

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I've loved hiking Wisconsin and Michigan's Upper Peninsula.  The people here talk with my 'native' accent.  Unlike in other areas of the country, here I just crave listening to the locals speak, just for the sake of hearing the sound of 'home'.  One local gave me the highest compliment when he told me "You talk like we do.  You sound like one of us."  Honestly, I don't want to leave.  But like the Sandhill Cranes, I'm migrating south for the winter.  Don't worry, Wisconsin, I'm not finished with you yet.  Lots of Ice Age Trail to hike.  Maybe all of it.  Can't wait to get back.

Marathon County does their Trail Proud

The Ice Age Trail has four segments in Marathon County, and all but one - the smallest - gets 'first-class hiking' ratings from me.  Working from north to south, here are the particulars.

The Plover River segment is the best.  It's all new, opened just a few years ago.  It gets its high rating because of three distinctive features.  First, there's a long, well-built boardwalk through a wetland.

Then there's an abundance of very pleasant trail that rambles through some open areas and among big glacier-rounded rocks in mossy mature hardwood forest.

And finally there's an up-close walk beside the Plover River as it skirts a glacier moraine and meanders through the big rubble rocks that rolled down off it.  The best view of this small river or creek is the headline photo above.

Following the Plover River Segment is a four mile road walk along quiet Sportsman Drive.  There was one remarkable spot of lingering fall color there -- a sumac that looked ablaze, even on this overcast day.

The next segment is the Dells of the Eau Claire River Segment.  This follows that significant river through quiet country and through the high-banked 'narrows' that are called 'Dells' from the French word for 'channel' or 'gutter'.  Other places call them Dalles, most famously along the Columbia River between Washington State and Oregon.

The Trail crosses the Eau Claire river twice on footbridges.  Here's the more scenic one, called the High Bridge.

This segment offers views of the small section of white water that cascades through angular rock formations that clearly had *not* been glacier-smoothed.

This is one of the few sections of the Ice Age Trail that is beyond the limit of the last glacier's advance.

Next came the Thornapple Creek Segment.  It is a very short segment and really has two sub-segments not more than a mile each in length.  I chose to bypass both--the first because it crosses private land that the owner wishes to be kept closed during hunting season.

I bypassed the second because, while bypassing the first, I met a local gentleman who was out riding his bike and he told me that this short stretch has two low areas that are basically always wet.  I didn't want to bother for one mile of woods trail on this frosty morning, so I walked the road.

Finally comes the Ringle Segment.  It uses a small piece of an 82-mile-long rail trail called the Mountain-Bay State Trail - sharing the route for just a mile and a quarter.

But the rest of this segment was trail deep in the woods, and very pretty.  Within it there is a brand new section that was just opened this year (2017).  The freshly cut trail is visible at right in the view below, in front of the freshly set bench with its excellent message.

Much of the rest of the woods trail is being rerouted off trails that are open to snowmobiles.  I was tempted to follow the flag tape marking the reroute, but the snowmobile trails were all quiet and grass-covered surface, not ripped up by ATVs or turned into a succession of mud pits as ORVs do, so I really didn't mind the existing route.  Still, the fact that Marathon County volunteers are being so proactive in taking the trail off these multi-use sections and creating foot-traffic-only trail speaks volumes for their dedication.  Thanks, Marathon!

South of the Ringle Segment, I faced the prospect of a road walk of 25 miles or more before the next segment in the next county.  In fact, between here and my destination of Madison the trail is largely on roads.  It's the most incomplete portion of the whole Ice Age Trail, as this overview map displayed at one of the trailheads shows.  Solid red lines are finished trail segments, dashed red lines are the road walks.

Because of this and because my ancestors' roots are deeply embedded all over the region around Milwaukee and just to its northwest, I've decided to take a detour down the Mountain-Bay Trail to Green Bay then the wide-shouldered bike-friendly highway 57 to Potawatomie State Park and pick up the Ice Age Trail there at its Eastern Terminus.  So my next report will come to you from the Mountain-Bay Trail.  Watch this space.

Ice Age Trail fun

Flag tape along the Ice Age Trail's Old Railroad Segment demarks an infestation of invasive species.  He looks dangerous, no?  Well, he is.  He represents the most destructive invasive species this planet's interdependent web of life has ever produced.

Worst of all, he's hopelessly confused. He designates beautiful wild natural corridors, gives them lofty names like 'National Scenic Trail' and then allows this to be done to them.

I joined the Ice Age Trail at this rather unfortunate logging site along the 'Old Railroad Segment' in Langlade County.  It was a rocky start--just bad luck, I guess--a first impression that I soon found reason to revise.  Soon I was meandering on dedicated footpath through untroubled woods, passing lovely settings like Narrow Neck Pond and then Game Lake

And that's when I remembered how good it is to be hiking a famous trail--a place where avid hikers, the hiker community, and its many friends, concentrate their resources to provide wanderers like me a chance to touch that primal feeling of being immersed in creation.

Creation never was perfect, just "very good" (Genesis 1:31).  And it's good to remember that that is all that is required of us inhabitants/participants in creation -- to strive to live up to that wonderfully reachable standard.

Wow.  What got me so philosophical today?

Well, this blog is about 'Heart and Sole.'  That was from the heart - now back to the sole part.

In Langlade County I hiked two more "certified" segments after the Old Railroad segment, and then had a long road walk before reaching Marathon County.  The Ice Age Trail Alliance seems to have organized their local chapters by county; and the 'certified' trail within each county is split into named 'Segments' of roughly day-hike length.

On my way south through Langlade County, the next two segments I hiked were called the Lumbercamp Segment, named for a historic site, and the Kettlebowl segment, named for a small, public ski area that is in turn named for a geologic formation that the melting glaciers left behind.

Here's the GPS Track of my traverse through the Lumbercamp segment showing the distinctive topography that this trail seeks out--the deposits near the edge of the farthest advance of glaciers in the last ice age.  Note the flat terrain in the south and west part of the image.  That's land that the glaciers never reached.

Along this segment the woods is full of rounded granite glacier-moved rocks and boulders, and on one of these I found an interesting new-to-me type of lichen with distinctive 'funnel' structures.  I think it is a variety of Cladonia, commonly called a Cup Lichen.

The segment also had a number of open areas, including Peters Marsh Wildlife Area and the Lumber Camp itself.

In the distance above you can see a stand of young aspens.  Because of their network of roots, all of those trees make up a single organism.  This makes them among the quickest species to regenerate after logging.  These aspens had dropped all their leaves, leaving their winter color to dazzle the eye.

The Kettlebowl segment has the same sort of topography.

One of the most extreme examples of a Kettle-hole along the trail is Big Stone Hole--a deep pit full of boulders where the melting ice at the end of the last ice age was mostly free of embedded debris, so when it melted it left a big hole into which the big round rocks in adjacent areas rolled to fill the void.

Big Stone Hole isn't easy to photograph, nor was it easy to scramble around in it.   It reminded me of a one dimensional version of Appalachian Trail's Mahoosuc Notch.

In drier areas the glacier-moved rocks sported more interesting lichen communities. 

This seems to be a variety of 'Placopsis' - a Bulls-eye Lichen

This larger aspen in the woods was also sporting its winter colors

Kettlebowl ski area costs just $5 for a day of skiing.  The rope tow lifts are tractor-operated and all the staff are volunteers.

Yet they've recently built a very nice shelter complete with heat and electricity and a nice snack bar.

Beyond the Kettlebowl Segment I had a road walk of more than twenty miles.  I chose my own route to take me through the town of Antigo and past Peroutka's, a century-old, family owned and run one-off (no chain) independent butcher shop specializing in house-made old-fashioned Wisconsin (German/Scandanavian) sausages.

Their summer sausage was what I was after.  My family moved away from Wisconsin when I was tiny, but we never lost our taste for this special distinctive treat.  Grandparents would send us care packages, so I always had Wisconsin local butcher-shop summer sausage in my Christmas stocking.  Today's Health department regulations prohibit Peroutka's from offering the old style white-mold-covered sausage smoked and cured in natural gut casing, but Peroutka's summer sausage taste is as close as I could come.  It's twice as intense as the brand-name store-bought summer sausage and at half the price!

Other road-walk sights of note included this remodeled old one-room schoolhouse

and a very late-lingering Monarch Butterfly feeding on red clover.

There were a couple examples of the lingering fall color -- in road-side wild asparagus and in a well-chosen variety of red maple in someone's yard in town.

Also in town my route took me past the Antigo  Historical Society and Museum with this well-kept old steam engine in display.

Next for me came more pure foot-trail in the woods in Marathon County - several segments of thoroughly enjoyable Ice Age Trail hiking.  Keep an eye out for my next report.