I often have
grand plans. Whether in boots or boats I
lay plans in my head my body could likely never navigate. So, then, I make lesser plans – ones that I
can probably manage. I have to scale
those back further as that elusive day off approaches. There are only so many miles that can be
traversed in a single 18 hour period. A
15 mile hike on the IAT would fit nicely.
Three hours driving there, 6 hours on the trail, and then the three hour
drive to get back home before bed time.
As the day off
approaches, perhaps two weeks away, a school event plants itself squarely in
the middle of that day. That trip across
the state for a 15 miler is out, but maybe the Experimental Forest or county
land. A good 6 to 8 miles in the woods
could take place during the 5 hours between drop-off and pick-up. Grand plans.
December 27th
was just such a day. I had grand plans. Wife at work, kids had nothing on the
schedule, and I had the day off. Three
weeks ahead of time I scoured the IAT trail maps looking for something I could
manage in winter weather. Looking for 8
to 12 miles of trail, maybe 3 or 4 more on the road to get back to the
car. Two or three hour drive would make
the day off one worth having off.
Grand plans
were set for Thursday December 28th.
On December 21st those plans were dashed. I was suddenly on the hook to get both kids
off to a school event, one they really shouldn’t miss. That would be no problem as I would just
switch to the day before, the 27th.
That wouldn’t work either. Again,
chauffer duty called. Oh, by the way,
the weekend was already off limits as there were family plans for both Saturday
and Sunday. Grand plans were not to be. My vacation days would be spent carting kids
around town.
There are two
types of you out there and both types are chuckling right now. One of you sympathizes and sees your own
daily situation painted broadly in my words.
Others of you are chuckling at what you see as a complete buckling of
self. Don’t just chuckle, laugh – both of
you. Neither point of view is even one
smidgen towards begin wrong.
We all make
choices, or allow choices to be made for us.
I made the choice to be chauffer and give my time generously to my
immediate family 10 years ago. That’s
not to say I give it freely and happily.
I chafe and fight with myself. I
complain and grouse. I sigh and get on
with it. I’m a selfish person who craves
time alone. I’m also happiest with the
world when concerns are managed with responsibility and fairness. Duality in personality simply makes life so
very interesting. To put it more
eloquently, it is what it is and I do what I have to do.
What I had to
do on the 27th was hike, somewhere close by, and something longer
than 4 or 5 miles. One little walk I had
wanted to do during the summer months was the bike trail between Sparta and
Rockland. Six miles separates the
cross-roads town of Rockland and the growing small city of Sparta. Most of my interest in travelling the 12 mile
pancake flat route has to do with getting a good view of the new silica sand
mind right along the trail.
I am no fan of
mines. If I had a beautiful solution to
extracting the necessary materials to get on in our modern world that did not
involve mining I might just die a happy man.
I abhor them. As a growing conservationist
mines and dams are simply two of the worst things we humans can do to the
environment. Still, like gawking at 8
car pile-up on the opposite side of the freeway I wanted to see the mine.
At 10:00 on
the button I was walking away from the parking lot on Water St and heading West
on the trail. Work was on-going adding
in railway track to service the sand mine.
The bank said the temp was 14F and I believe it. Almost no wind, but light flurries added an
element of weather. The first mile along
the trail goes past the trailer park and under Highway 27. Once past that it does not even seem like
walking through a town. Woods and field
are on both sides, but to the North is a large portion of homes. Turkey huddled in the corner of one farmers
hay field with interstate just in sight on the other side. By 10:30 I’d gone a little more than a mile,
still inside Sparta city limits.
Amundsen Park lies just to North, across the tracks, behind a stand of
pine, and then across the river. The
park is maybe 300yds from the trail.
This is a quiet little forgotten park bordering the La Crosse River. A gravel parking lot with just a few picnic
benches and a playground make up the entrance to the park. The rest is woods and river.
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| Just leaving parking lot |
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| Turkey!! |
Three minutes
later I’m at the sand mine. Some years
ago benches were placed every two miles along the trail between Sparta and
Bangor. The bench I stood by at this
point once looked across the road. Past
the road was a field that alternated between corn and beans. The first set of visible trees hide the La
Crosse River from view. Past the trees
the hills and bluffs North of Sparta commanded the horizon. This was a great place to take a break and
watch birds play and cloud scud by.
The right-most
10 degrees of vision still take in field and trees. The other 170 degrees are only of piles of
sand and large structures of the sand mine.
Another 200m down the trail is a nicely painted wood sign that reads “La
Crosse River Prairie State Natural Area.”
There is no prairie. There is a
pasture field and barn to the South and the sand mine to the North. There is nothing else but the trail itself.
At 10:42 I hit
mile post 21 which put me at exactly two miles out. The sand mine is almost behind me and as I
cross the intersection of three roads it will be. There are a couple of roads that are worth
travelling in this little stretch between the Interstate and Hwy 16. I like to take the motorcycle out here. Although flat as a pancake, and populated,
the countryside is still charming. The
road that has been paralleling the trail since Sparta is now called Iband
Ave. At this intersection it turns into
Hammer (heading north) and Icebox (heading south). Then, right at the interstate Iberia
intersects Icebox to head West into Rockland.
Hammer
parallels the trail for less than a quarter mile before abruptly turning north
and meeting Hwy 16. Hammer is mostly
wooded with a few houses along the way.
Most notably it crosses the La Crosse River. Although entirely private property along
Hammer I still dream about disappearing into the small bits of woodland behind
those houses.
I hit the
bridge crossing the Little La Crosse River right at 11:00. The three mile mark is just on the West side
of the bridge. This is the most
picturesque spot along the trail. Although
the Interstate can be viewed looking south it is easy to ignore. The sound is a little less easy to ignore, but
being nearly a half mile away helps some.
This little river meanders from the bluffs between Melvina and Cashton
before meeting up with the La Crosse River about 500m from the bridge I was now
on. This is a handy little trout stream
that garners moderate attention from anglers, especially along Hwy 27 South of
Sparta.
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| Little La Crosse |
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| Mike on the bridge |
A 10 minute
break and it was time to push on. As
usual I keep up my battle between being too hot and not having my sweat
freeze. The worst aspect is that my back
becomes soaked with sweat from the backpack.
On a windy day I can often get that to dry out while I rest, but in the
meantime I have to be cold. Survival specialists
will tell you that in the winter you do not want to sweat. Sweat is deadly. I understand the notion. Eventually, being wet, you are at a serious
risk for hypothermia. To not sweat would
require not moving and not wearing clothing.
I haven’t died yet, but I do have to regulate my body temp constantly. My wife has an Osprey day pack that does not
fit her. It has the aluminum frame with
mesh that keeps the backpack off your back.
It’s smaller than my day pack, but I have to try that out sometime. I also need to get her a pack that fits.
About 25
minutes later the trail crosses over Iberia.
Iberia has been on the other side of woods and fields since the last
intersection of roads. The road will not
parallel the trail, but on the North side, both making their way into
Rockland. Immediately after the
intersection is the LoriLynn Tree Farm, a very popular place between Thanksgiving
and Christmas. On weekends the road is
almost impassable with cars and trucks parked on both sides of the narrow strip
of pavement.
The
countryside since leaving the sand mine has been mostly wooded and
wetlands. Continuing past the intersection
with Iberia the wooded feel continues with the tree farm to the North and the
small hills and woods to the South. The
hills and woods to the South are only about 300m deep and conceal the
west-bound rest area of I-90.
I drive that
stretch of I-90 nearly every day and I found it unique to see things from this
other vantage point.
At 11:32 I hit
four miles and 11:50 hit five miles. Along
the way has mostly been bits of woods and fields. An occasional farm house pokes into view
between narrow stands of oak and pine.
Near the five mile mark there is a series of dirt paths that cross the
trail and tracks diving into the woods on either side. I’m not sure if these access farm fields and
there is no snowmobile trail here except the bike trail. The land is not fenced, as it usually is with
private property. Something worth
exploring on the satellite view some time.
I like to explore these little side trails, but tromping on somebody’s
private property can be sketchy. Some
folks don’t mind a hiker just going through, but others will take out a rifle
and point it in your direction.
I crossed into
La Crosse County at 11:55. Rockland
begins here and the hardwood mill has been visible for a minute or two.
The trail
since Sparta had been a mix of hard packed snow and frozen gravel. Following a significant dropping of snow two
weeks earlier there had been a few days in the upper 30’s. This left the trail a patchwork of dirt and
snow. I tried to walk on dirt wherever
possible. Walking on the snow, even
hard-packed, takes twice as much effort as walking on dirt and rock.
Then, at 12:11
I hit the trail head in Rockland. I’d
covered six miles and fortunately there is a bench and picnic table. I got out of my wet shirts and put on the dry
ones I’d brought along. I did that
quickly as right across the road in full view are houses. They are close enough that I could easily
toss a rock through their living room windows.
Nobody needs to see me without a shirt on, particularly a stranger. Let the feet dry out a bit before they become
cold. I cleared the snow off the bench
and used my old rain jacket as a seat cover.
Ate my PBJ sandwich, grapes, and drank my Coke. Then I got to the business of stretching out
my left leg and hip and lower back.
Shortly after the rest area my left thigh started to give up the
ghost. The hip followed shortly
there-after and by Rockland I was in a bit of hurt. I hoped I could stretch them out. The temps and low wind made it possible to
rest for pretty much as long as I needed to, although not comfortably. Being able to lie down would have been best.
The trailhead
in Rockland has a sheltered board with some trail maps posted to it, but they
also have some history on the board. The
history of Rockland was the rail and the board describes the history of the
mail deliveries in Rockland. Even if you
happen to just be driving by, stop and give the board a read.
Speaking of
trains, I’d not had any rail activity until I reached the fifth mile at
11:50. Since then three trains had
passed. I would have two more go by on
the way back to Sparta.
I started back
at 12:32, figuring I’d spent enough time in the cold and my leg and hip were
not going to get better without a significant break and lying down. To boot, my lower back was acting up which is
something that usually does not occur after I get going. That is, until I’ve become fatigued – maybe 10
or 12 miles in.
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| Just outside Sparta |
The way back
did becoming increasingly more difficult.
I could not wait to get to the Little La Crosse River bridge where I’d
be able to drop my pack and try to stretch.
Stretching, though, was not helping today. The thigh was now beginning to cramp and my
wet socks (which I should have changed in Rockland) were starting to cause
blisters. I passed the sand mine at
14:07 and just decided to keep pushing.
At 14:36 I’d made the parking lot again.
An easy 12
mile jaunt, but I was left struggling the last 4 miles with that left leg and
hip. This has to get better or every
year I’ll be forced shorter and shorter.
Still, I’d seen the mine, viewed the Little La Crosse, and made the
miles. I’d have preferred a grand
adventure, but sometimes the small adventures are what are available. I’ll take that every time.
