This winter of 2012-2013 was one of cold temperatures and deep snow. This season of holiday and snow was much like those I remember growing up in Central Wisconsin. The snow came late in November and stayed, only becoming deeper with each new storm. The storms came in strong and left quickly leaving snow covered trees and fields sparkling in morning sunshine.
Christmas was a snowy wonderland. Looking out the living room windows the trees stood out starkly against the 3 feet of snow covering the yard, prairie and upwards into the bluffs.
The New Year saw another blanketing of snow only adding to the ground cover.
I have mentioned before that February and March are my least favorite months of the year. I had an aim to do something about that this year.
I was able to put on the shoes 8 or 9 times this winter, which is a huge record. All of those treks were small ones in the “back yard”, the unfenced hills and woods surrounding the neighborhood. I got to know the ridges and swales much better this year. I even ventured a little further off the snowmobile trail to see some other interesting features.
The afternoon of Christmas day was a cloudy one with a moderate chilly wind. Standing in the driveway strapping on the shoes my fingers were already becoming numb from the cold wind. Somehow Ruth was much more able to put her shoes on without trouble than I.
There is little to worry about, though, knowing that in minutes I’ll be in the trees, protected from the icy wind. To the south is a wide valley of oak that stretches from the neighbors back yard to a bluff ridge. The valley is about 1/3 mile wide and about as long. The north and west are bordered by houses. A ridge borders the east and south. Travel in this valley is easy. A trail winds from the northern ridge (behind a house), dropping into the valley on the east side and snaking along towards the foot of the south ridge. The trail follows the bottom of the south ridge. A couple years ago the trail then cut across on a long angle towards the houses back to the north. One of the neighbors cut a stand of oak (they had oak wilt and presented a very real hazard to his garage). This left his living room too exposed for my liking. He had told me it was no problem, but last summer my youngest boy and I re-routed the trail.
We picked our way through summer brambles looking for a trail that would work well for snowshoes in the winter. We placed trail tape at strategic locations, always trying to keep line of sight with the last piece of tape.
Hardly a creature stirs in this valley. Rabbit, squirrel, and various birds do occupy the area. Their tracks are everywhere, but often not even a squirrel is seen or heard. There are deer tracks, but not nearly as many as in other areas of the woods. The wind carefully braves making a noise here.
We looked to pick up this new trail. This would be the first time since late July that “trail” had been traversed. We spotted the first piece of tape. Actually, we spotted the second piece of tape. The tape that marked the entrance was not found. We found our way to that marker by stepping over logs and fallen branches. This was clearly not the intended entrance. We looked around and found the next, then the next and made our way to where new trail met old. We had to look very hard and there were a couple of markers we missed. I did not consider this back in July: orange trail tape weathered by 5 months of wind and rain look very much like the leaves that have not yet dropped from the oaks.
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Ruth has become a very good hiking companion of mine. I have always been a solitary hiker, enjoying the solitude and the opportunity to make my own way. I think that she understands this and while she might lead the way or she might follow she shares in the sanctity of these travels. I enjoy having her with me on the trail.
Except when she tries to tell me how the land is laid out. I’ve come to understand this woods well in the last two years, particularly this winter. We have a different vocabulary and it is difficult to explain to her the ridges and their directions. So we both say “I guess”, smile, and move on.
Another notable set of hikes occurred in February. The first day was sleet and freezing drizzle but I could not allow myself to stay inside. I had recently taken a new job and was now working from home. This kept me indoors on that day, to be sure, but it also meant that I was a walk out the door on my way to the woods. Despite the weather I put on the shoes and trekked out to the back yard. On this day I climbed the hill directly behind the house. Before reaching the top I left the well-used deer trail and cut cross country. Even in the trees the wind and sleet found me. Within 15 minutes ice was coating the back of my jacket. My hat was frozen stiff. This would be a shorter travel today. Going off trail around here is only a winter possibility. In the summer the woods are thick with briars and bushes… and ticks.
Before taking a right turn and beginning to head back I came by a stand of white birch unlike any I’ve seen before. I had no camera and resolved that I’d need to come out tomorrow and find them again.
The next morning about 07:30 I was out the door and retracing my steps. The day was clear and bright. The freezing stuff from the day before made the top layer of snow hard and crunchy. The winter birds were out but the sound of snow shoes completely drowned out any other sound.
I quickly found the stand of birch. This was a gorgeous day for pictures. The sun shone nicely across the snow fields and sparkled between the branches, leaves, and needles.
A few days later, after a new couple of inches of snow, I made my way out the door again. This time I went to the top of the ridge to the north. The top of this ridge sports a walking trail. This trail is frequently used during hunting season. When the hunters leave the trail is maintained by the deer, coyote, raccoon, and me. At the top of the ridge I took the trail to the west. This immediately drops down off the ridge and into a valley where the snowmobile trail used to run. At the top of the ridge I saw something I’ve never seen in 6 years of walking back there… snow shoe tracks that were not mine. My youngest goes out once or twice a year, but these were a pair of adult tracks. One large, one smaller, husband and wife. They had climbed from down below up to the ridge and then went back they way the came. The tracks stayed on the old snow mobile trail for a while until meeting with another foot trail where they peeled off to follow that other trail. That other trail is one I’ve never been on and never will be. It goes behind fenced land that has been worked on twice in 6 years. Someone keeps that fence in good repair and to me that means stay out. Frankly, that is too bad, but I’m allergic to steel shot in my butt.
A couple days later, after yet another couple of inches of snow, I went out during a gray snowy day. The temps were in the low 20’s with a mild wind and occasional snow showers. This day was more like mid-January rather than a day in late February. I wasn’t complaining. If snow was going to be on the ground I was going to take advantage of it.
The track today was to head to the north ridge again, this time taking the right turn following the ridge east. After a ¼ mile the ridge sweeps south and the trail drops off the ridge and heads north. After a gentle decline of 200yds the trail ends at the new snowmobile trail.
Just after dropping off the ridge I stopped dead. There was an owl on a log 20ft from the trail. A large owl. Wait, no. That’s not an owl. What is that? That’s a squirrel. No way. Squirrels do not get that big.
Yes, the do. You need to look at that picture closely. I am 20ft from that squirrel. Notice the tail beneath the fallen log. That squirrel must be 8lbs.
I do not have the history of this land, but I do know some general facts. At one time this part of Wisconsin was largely prairie. Oak, birch, hickory, poplar could be found in isolated stands near water ways, particular the larger rivers in the area (La Crosse, Sparta, Little La Crosse). White settlers set to farming the open areas and clearing the stands of timber for fuel and building.
Sometime during the mid to late 20th century (60’s or 70’s) farms began to fail one by one. The land was left for developers, hobby farmers, and hunters. At the same time the land was protected from prairie fires, not to protect the land but to protect the scattered residences and outbuildings in the area. Without fire, the oak, birch, poplar and jack pine took over leaving much of this part of the county heavily wooded. Today, the woods are gradually disappearing as land is being sold for housing.
In my extended backyard there was, at one time – maybe 30 years ago, a strong deep stream. This stream made its way from a dry spring about a 800yds from my house through what is my actual back yard and eventually into an existing stream. That stream flows into the Little La Crosse, then into the La Crosse, and then into the might Mississippi.
That old stream bed still exists on my land and also in the woods. Near where the spring would have been are old rusted tin canisters left by the old farm for absolutely no good reason.
Along the snowmobile trail an artifact of another old farm stands surrounded by acres of woods.
I decided to be a little more adventurous this trip and follow a vehicle path that split from the snowmobile trail. The path ended at the foot of a small ridge I did not even know about. I was probably in an area I should not be. I turned west and paralleled the path of the snowmobile trail staying just below the ridge. I figured it would eventually meet up with the snowmobile trail. No more than 50ft from the end of the vehicle trail a small wooden bench was placed against a large oak – a hunting seat. Another hunting blind( three pieces of 2x4 plywood stuck in the ground) was placed another 50ft from there. These hunting spots were both within 80ft of where the truck would be parked. There are some things that defy a reasonable explanation. I shook my head and made for the snowmobile trail.
The rest of the trek was a quiet snowy trip back home.
There would be one more snow shoe trek and it would be in March. I do not remember a year in decades where there would have been sufficient snow cover to snow shoe in March. At least 8 inches remained on the ground, despite bouts of freezing rain and torrential downpours in the preceding days.
Another brilliant sunny day with temps in the upper 20’s. I stayed mostly to the same valley as my house, tucked between the north, east, and south ridges. The snow was soft and wet, sticking to the shoes with every step. Every so often I would shake great chunks of snow off the front of my shoes.
I have never suffered from SADS. That’s not to say I’ve always enjoyed February and March. They are generally icy, muddy, cold, and wet months. Typically, they do not allow for normal winter activities, but they also do not allow for non-winter activities either. I’d made up my mind early on in the winter that I would get outside more, despite having little free time to do so. I also vowed I would get out and hike during February and March, even if it meant spending most of that time on pavement of township roads.
Most I talk to are not pleased that we’ve had such a long winter with deep snow cover. I took every advantage of that and have enjoyed this winter like no other. Although, I write this in mid-April where the last piles of snow are not yet quite gone and the forecast is for freezing rain and snow tomorrow.
Still, when others crave a sunny beach in February I have to admit I would rather be deep in the woods of Wisconsin with a backpack and some warm dry clothes.
This winter was important in another respect. This will very likely be the last winter living in my wooded paradise. We expect to move from here to southern Wisconsin this year. Certainly, where-ever we end up there will not give us the opportunity for solitude and nature in the same way as here.
I am glad we had the winter we did. This was a grand way to leave this home behind and pick up life elsewhere.
