Black River State Forest - Snowmobile trail

     There are several miles of dedicated hiking trails in the Black River State Forest.  The Wildcat & Smrekar trails are located near Millston at the south end of the forest.    The Levis and Trow trails, north of Hatfield are not technically in the State Forest, but are in Clark County land.  Still both systems provide some nice hiking and skiing.

     There is also a system of ATV and snowmobile trails throughout the forest.  One ATV trail in particular I’ve travelled a few times.  There is an intersection not far from the North Settlement Rd ATV parking area where a snowmobile only trail heads north while the ATV trail either heads south or west.  I’d never been on that snowmobile trail, since I’d only been on an ATV.  I thought that might make an interesting hike.

GPS Track File Download

     The snowmobile trail leaves the ATV trail about 3/4 mile south of the Wildcat Flowage and Kling Rd.  After crossing Kling Rd the trail generally heads due north for a few miles before meeting the ATV trail again.  The last mile and a half (roughly) follows the ATV trail to a parking area on Hwy 54 east of Black River Falls.

     This trip would once again entail a bike leg and a hike leg.

     I spent the day of July 14^th working (from home as I do currently).  When I would take a break for food or to visit the bathroom I would take a minute of two and prepare for the trip.  During a 20 minute lunch break I loaded my bike.  By 15:45 I was ready to sign-off and head out.

    The plan was to park the car at the Hwy 54 parking area.  Bike south down Wildcat/Spangler Rd and then east on Kling Rd to the gate of the snowmobile trail.  I’d stash the bike in the woods and hike the trail back to the parking area.

     Since I was unfamiliar with any of the roads north of the Wildcat/Smrekar trails I wanted to drive to the starting point on the trail and then head up to the parking area.  Considering it was very likely I’d be driving to retrieve my bike in the dark I really wanted to know where I was going.  Plus, the bike is very tough for me.  If I had an idea of landmarks then I’d have an idea of how far I have left to go on the bike.  Uncertainty kills morale.

     There are a couple ways to get there and I took a way I knew and looked like it would be shorter.  Shorter, yes.  Faster, no.

     Take HWY 27 from Sparta north past Cataract.  At the county line hang a right on Cty O.  Follow Cty O past Shamrock and into Millston and Hwy 12.  If I had to do this again here is the route I would take from this point.  Turn left on HWY 12.  Follow HWY 12 north Castle Mound Rd (aka W 7^th St).  Turn right on Castle Mound Rd.  Follow Castle Mound Rd for about 6 miles to Wildcat Spangler Rd.  Turn left and after 4.2 miles (yes, 4.2) stop at HWY 54.  Turn right on HWY 54.  After 0.2 miles the ATV parking lot will be on the right.  Castle Mound Rd and Wildcat Rd are wide gravel  roads.  I found 35mph easy to do.  A person could go a whole lot faster, but there are many things to run into on that road; deer, coyote, fox, frogs, ATVs, and guys biking to their hiking trail.  I make mention of the quality of road for a reason.

     The route I took from HWY 12 was to turn right and then after a quarter mile turn left on the continuance of Cty O.  Another quarter mile I took the left turn on N Settlement Rd.  This goes past a popular ATV parking area.  After 3/4 mile N Settlement Rd forks right while Stanton Creek Rd forks left.  N Settlement Rd is wide enough for two cars and is paved part of the way.

     Stanton Creek Rd begins as hard-packed gravel, but after passing the ATV trail crossing becomes pot-holed, sandy, and rough.  After the second ATV crossing, the road deteriorates even further.  After a few miles and two sharp turns Stanton Creek Rd ends at Hunter Haven Rd.  I turned right on Hunter Haven Rd and initially the road looked like a good quality gravel.  That is, until I hit the first dip at 25mph. 

     Okay, there is something you need to keep in mind.  I am driving a 4dr Honda Civic with a bike rack off a trailer hitch.  There is about maybe 2.5cm of clearance on that car.  Sure, exaggeration that is, but still, dips must be driven over very very slowly.

     The earlier part of Hunter Haven Rd is shared with ATVs.  The road is a sandy rutted mess.  I was fortunate that there had been no rain for several days.  Had there been rain that day or the day before I would have been asking one of the few ATVs that came by to pull me out of the muck.  These roads are navigable in a small car, but only in excellent weather conditions.  I really need a truck.

     Hunter Haven Rd heads north for about 3 miles before coming to Castle Mound Rd.  I turned right on Castle Mound Rd and within 100ft there is the intersection for Wildcat Spangler Rd.  I continued east and the road becomes Kling Rd.  The road also turns to a narrower gravel road.  This road is highly pock-marked and rutted.  Driving fast, unless in a Wrangler or something of that nature, is really not recommended.  Honda Civic is not the car for this road.  Navigable, but a constant worry about undercarriage damage.  Kling Rd takes a sharp right turn after a mile and then becomes sandy (and rutted).  The road seems to become more sand and more narrow as it goes along.  2.6 miles after starting on Kling Rd (yes 2.6!) the entrance to the Wildcat Flowage is found.  Across the road is the gate for the snowmobile trail.

     I had not yet reached the sharp left turn on Kling Rd when only about 100ft in front me a bear crossed the road.  I marked that spot well as I’d be back here later, but on a bike.  Having scouted the spot I turned around with a careful multi-point turn and made my way to Wildcat Spangler Rd and then Hwy 54. 

     At 17:24 I was in the parking lot and ready to head out on bike.  Clear Sunny skies, a light SW wind, and 84 degrees.  The short spell on the bike on HWY 54 had me wait for two vehicles to pass by and then I was on the gravel Wildcat Spangler Rd.  The gravel consists of large black shale rock.  This makes biking, even on a mountain bike, a rugged experience.  The road was just a very slight downhill heading south, but for all practical purposes, all these roads here are flat.  Except for the ruggedness the biking was pretty easy.  The stretch of road from HWY 54 to Kling Rd I marked at 4.4 miles.  Shortly after passing Little Bear Rd I got off the bike and walked for about 5 minutes.  This was really to give my left leg a little break as biking plays a number on that hip and leg.  I did not want to walk too much as I did have 7 miles to bike and 6.5 miles to hike.  Darkness would come to the woods around 9:00 and although prepared to be in the woods after dark, I’d rather be out.  I also knew from scouting Kling Rd that the last mile or more of the bike would be in sandy conditions.  That would mean walking the bike a considerable bit through that sand.  Even before all these sciatic problems biking in sand like that… I usually walked it (recalling a mountain bike ride on logging roads in Northern Michigan in 2004).

     While heading down Wildcat Rd, a pair of sandhill cranes flew low overhead.  I was met by only one motorist while biking down Wildcat.

     Oddly enough the biking on Kling Rd was far easier.  The first part of Kling Rd was hard-packed sand and while heavily pock-marked the bike navigated around those easily.  The first bits of sandy stretches after the sharp turn were manageable, but that last mile I mostly walked the bike.  My leg was tiring fast and the sand was enough to make it hard to keep the bike upright.

     There was no bear sighted along the bike portion.  I was secretly hoping to have another sighting.  Instead of being eaten by a bear I was being eaten by dozens of deer flies.  I am not exaggerating when I say dozens.  While on the bike they left my head mostly alone.  Occasionally, one would get caught under the brim of my hat and I’d have to swat it away.  By keeping my arms and hands moving every so often I was only bitten a few times.  I was sprayed from head to toe with deet, but that is of little consequence to flies and gnats.  Deet is flavoring to them.

     I made the trail at 18:25.   The bike leg averaged 7mph which I consider pretty good these days.  I’m not sure I’ll ever see the day again where a 7 mile ride was a short 20 to 30 minute hop.

     I stashed the bike about 100 ft into the woods and locked it to a tree.  I took note of a stump landmark, something I’d be able to see in the dark from the trail and then headed out on the trail.

    The sprayed once again for mosquitoes and they seemed to hold back some.  Around my head buzzed at least 8 or 9 flies.

Trailhead on Kling Rd.

         A little more than 10 minutes down the trail another trail joins from the south-east.  The trail is wide, but overgrown with weeds and grass.  Often, the vegetation is knee high providing a perfect launching pad for ticks.  The trail runs through forest at this early part.  The majority of tree are jack pine with some oak intermingled.  The red X’s on a large number of trees indicates there will be a harvest here in the coming months.

     If you were to look at a USGS topographic map you’d see quite a bit of differences in the locations of these roads from maps of today.  The USGS maps were last done in this area in 1980.  The topo map would show that most of this trail makes use of an old railroad grade.  As the trail moves from forest to swamp that becomes very evident.  I make this connection after about a half hour on the trail.  The trail narrows a little, standing about three feet above the swamp on either side.  There are low spots on the trail, that in wet weather would have you walking through shin deep water.  I would suspect in early Spring you’d be up to your knees and not able to discern the trail at all.

Swampy trail

     The flies have become aggressive enough around my head to necessitate putting on the head net.  I’ve had to do that before to ward off gnats during a hike.  Head nets work great, but they have a drawback.  At 19:06 in the evening the sun is low enough to be in your eyes and the net reflects that nicely leaving you nearly blind.  I used my hand as a visor, but the flies would land on my hand and wrist and bite.  A constant adjustment by both sides.

     About that time there was a fork in the trail.  A sign sat at the crook of the for showing the trail curving right.  That did not seem correct from my review of the maps and terrain.  I was certain that the trail continued straight at this point.  I went down the right fork to investigate and after about 200 yards I could see a wall of short spruce trees blocking the trail.  I went back to the fork and took the straight like I knew it should be.  The trail never did curve to the right and the right fork dead ends at the trees.  I’m not sure what that sign is meant for, but ignore it.

     At 19:20 I stopped at a cleared area for a short break.  My lower back was starting to feel the stress of having had the pack on for the last 90 minutes and frankly I’m just not in very good shape!  A stronger breeze was blowing through the logged clearing and gave me a very brief respite from the flies, but not all of them.  A head net is an absolute must.  People might think them to look goofy, but if the choice is wear one or stay off the trail you can be sure I’ll be wearing one.  In fact, we picked up a 2 person mosquito net at Gander  the day after this hike.  At 12oz it’s light enough to pack for my day trips and should allow me to more comfortably take a break.  I only rested for 5 minutes and really needed about 15 minutes.  The flies and mosquitoes were too much to be standing still.

Break time.  No swamp!

    This logged forest was but a brief area of the trail that was not swamp.  Immediately after that break it was back to the swamp and waist high grass.  The trail at this point heads NNW and the sun is low at 19:45.  The swamp is full of trees, but they are short trees and do not block the sun.  The trail is muddy.  The grass is high.  The flies are all over and the sun makes seeing with the head net very difficult.  I adopted an adornment of having part of the net pulled up over the front brim of my hat.  That left my eyes, nose, and mouth unprotected, but I could see.  Most of the time this worked well enough.

     Somewhere not far off to my right (east) a heron was making quite a racket.  If I could have waded through the trees and swamp there would have likely been a pool of water with a heron or two. 

     Also at 19:45 there is another fork in the trail.  The orange diamond sign for the snowmobile trail is on the left fork and that is the one to take.  I had thought that the trail should start heading more sharply to the NW about that point and it did.  Incidentally, the right fork is still the old railroad grade and the trail leaves it here to head towards Little Bear Rd.

Still swampy....

     As the sun was sinking lower the temperature cooled slightly as well.  I was really hoping that would be the signal for the deer flies to go away for the evening.  And, in fact, they did.  I rounded a corner that was slightly more swamp than not and the flies just disappeared.  There was this odd humming noise that I could not quite figure out.  So I stopped and lifted up the head net.  The humming was a swarm of mosquitoes around my entire body.  A literal cloud of them was around me.  Head net went down and feet went back into motion.  In younger fitter days I would have started jogging away.  The mosquitoes did let up, but were from then on a strong presence.  The flies returned within minutes, but not in as a large a number.  At 20:00 I made the gate to Little Bear Rd and the Little Bear Flowage.  I took off the pack and sprayed down again.  I had hoped to have another 5 minute break, but that was exactly what the bugs wanted me to do.

     At 20:21 the ATV and snowmobile trail merge.  I sat by the side of the intersection to wait for two ATVs to fly past and the sand dust to settle a little.  The last mile and a half of the trail is ATV trail and that means deep rutted sand.  That further means pretty tough hiking, especially on tired legs.  At 20:30 I crossed Battle Point Rd and the final short stretch of trail.

Neat!

     The trail is nice and wide allowing the fading sunlight to provide ample visibility.  I would not need to break out the head lamp.  That daylight is a good thing as at that 20:40 a wolf gave his wake-up call about 100 yards into the tree line.

     Seven minutes later I was back to the parking lot.  I quickly packed up, put on a dry shirt and headed back to pick up the bike.  Complete darkness fell as I turned on Kling Rd.  The bike was right where I left it and then I headed back up to HWY 54 and Black River Falls.  FOOD!  Then home.

     Seven miles of biking and 6.4 miles of hiking went well.  Without the head net I’m not sure the hike through the swamp could have been done without serious agony.  With the head net and the dry conditions the hike was easily done.  I’m glad to have done the hike, to have been there, done that.  I’m pretty sure I don’t need to do it again.  The trail is flat and through un-interesting swampland.  Had the trail run past an open flowage or climbed a mound or two, or crossed an interesting waterway there may be more to be said.  There are other roads and flowages and some logging trails that might prove interesting in future days.

     With any luck, the next hike will be back in the Porcupine Mountains of Northern Michigan.

Ice Age Trail - Bohn Lake & Greenwood Segments

COMING SOON!

Coulee Experimental Forest

COMING SOON!

Winter Snowshoe Treks

     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.

La Crosse River Trail - Sparta to Rockland

     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 27^th 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 28^th.  On December 21^st 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 27^th.  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 27^th 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.

Just leaving parking lot

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.

Little La Crosse

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. 

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.

Ice Age Trail - Firth Lake & Harwood Lakes

GPS Track (gpx format)

      Columbus Day had been a perennial day off with the company that owns our little shop.   The last two years in a row I was not able to take the day off, but this year the day was mostly all clear for me.  In honor of Columbus the explorer I set off to do some exploring of my own.  Hopefully, my trip would not involve disease, murder, slavery, and impetuous royalty. 

      I vacillated between two parts of the Ice Age Trail in Chippewa and Taylor Counties, finally deciding on connecting to the hike I’d done in August.

      The Firth Lake and Harwood Lakes segments run from a county highway on the West side of the river from Cornell striking across field and forest before ending at Plummer Lake.   The hike in August took me from the Chippewa Moraine Visitor’s Center to Plummer Lake. 

      The day would entail dropping the car off at Plummer Lake, biking to the parking area on County CC, and then hiking back to the car.  If you’ve read previous entries you’ll know that my sciatica issues make biking a very difficult endeavor.  Biking was never my strong point, but “back in the day” hopping on the bike and putting in 30 or 40 miles was a long ride, but nothing to hesitate at.  A couple hour ride at a moderate pace was all that was.  The 7 mile bike shuttle for the Chippewa Moraine hike was quite a challenge.  My left leg was unsteady for about a mile of hiking before it loosened up.  I was encouraged that the 3 miles Ruth and I did at Merrimac went so very easy.  This bike shuttle would be 12.5 miles.  The only option was to hike shorter.  I just didn’t want to hike 6 miles.  On these day hikes the pack is only about 12 to 15 pounds.  If I managed the hills wisely I’d make it.  Boy, here I go.

     I watched the forecast leading up to the Monday and the day before the forecast for Cornell was very promising.  The weather man called for a high of 60 with clear skies in the AM, becoming cloudy PM, rain in the late evening.    The only weather concern was that the low was going to be around 30deg.  The bike would be cold.  The hike would be nice and cool.  The other concern was that this is Wisconsin and late evening rain could mean mid-morning just as easily.

     I left the house at 04:15 under completely clear skies with the stars studded brilliantly overhead.  The temp in Sparta was 34F.  The trip up North was uneventful and I arrived at Plummer Lake at 06:55.  Dawn was just beginning to seep on the horizon.  Visibility was improving with every minute.  By the time I left on the bike at 07:03 I had no worries about being seen on the road.  The temperature in Bloomer registered 33F.  On the bike I was wearing three layers on top, sweat pants on the bottom, hat and gloves with liners.  I took one last look at the half moon sitting above the lake and biked away.

     Despite the cold temps I really never felt cold.  In fact, only 2 or 3 miles into the bike and I was rolling up my hat and zipping down the outside sweatshirt.  Along the way there was scattered frost.  There was almost no wind, and what breeze there was came out of the West and at my back.  The route cruises up and down County M to County CC.  This almost perfectly parallels the hiking route.  I was feeling very good on the bike.  The hip and thigh were handling the moderate hills well enough.  There came a point, though, after about 6 miles were my left leg just couldn’t go anymore.  The thigh was tightening up and becoming very uncomfortable.  I got off and walked for about 5 minutes.

     I had some time pressures with this.  I needed to be back in Sparta by 18:00 to pick up the oldest from practice.  That meant I needed to be off the trail by 15:30 at the very latest.  I needed to be at the parking area and ready to hike by 08:15.  After 8 miles it was clear that was not going to happen.  After walking for that 5 minute period my left recovered some, but not more than a couple minutes on the bike and it was happening again.  I could tell the last 4 miles were going to be a struggle.  There is a very long hill on County CC.  Halfway up I bailed and walked.  All of this wasting time, but if I pulled a thigh muscle I’d be in a real pinch.

          The sun was breaking during the bike throwing an amber glow over the un-harvested corn and beans.  There was not a cloud to be seen as the sun rose over the hills on the other side of the river.  As I turned South on County CC the West was now visible.  A large front was moving in and the Western sky was a thick dark gray.

      At 08:39 I finally pulled into the parking area that hosts the trail heads for the Firth Lake and Chippewa River segments.  I needed a break and after putting the bike up and readying for the hike I flopped on the ground for a few minutes to stretch.  At 08:54 I was ready to go, but I was a good 30 minutes behind.  The bike took nearly twice as long as I had supposed it would or should.  Somehow I’m going to have to figure out how to bike with this condition.

Start of Firth Lake Trail

     The trail starts off skirting along fields and diving into forest before skirting more fields.  Step-overs are nicely placed at each fence crossing.  In one case there is an insulated handle to open the electric fence.  Be sure to replace!  Leaves completely covered the rugged trail, making turning an ankle easy.  About a mile in the trail goes into forest with significant blow-down.  This was the first time of the day that took the wrong path for about 100ft before turning around and finding the yellow blaze again.  Between the downed tree and the leaves the trail completely disappeared for about 200 yards.



The trail is actually a footpath to left of the two trees on the left.



     I hit the boundary between the private land and the SIATA boundary at 09:50.  The terrain so far has been very flat, even in the forested portion.   In the SIATA land the trail picks through the forest heading towards the South end of Firth Lake.  The trail has been 99% footpath and has been maintained, but rugged.  I considered this a special treat.   The trail becomes a boardwalk for a little bit as it sidles Firth Lake.  I could see a very large hornet’s nest in a tree.  I could not get a good position for a picture. 



Boardwalk on South End of Firth Lake



Firth Lake

      I had had communication with the chapter head a few days before to make sure the private land owners were amiable towards hikers and I wouldn’t be messing up somebody’s bow hunting.  He had mentioned that there was new parking area on the North end of Firth Lake.  I hit that at 10:15 and found a car parked there.  Shortly thereafter I came across two folks working on shoring up a drainage across the trail.  One of them was a trail adopter for the Harwood Lakes segment.  I felt a bit guilty that they were working and I was hiking.  I suppose I could have abandoned my plans for hiking and got to work.  Maybe I should have.  Regardless, I pushed on.  I was becoming very aware that time was slipping away.  I had hoped to make up some time on the trail by taking advantage of the flat terrain and that I’m a stud.  The ruggedness of the trail counterbalanced the terrain and that I’m not a stud counterbalanced the other.

      I normally take a break every hour, particularly if I’m climbing in the mountains.  Even on flat hikes I try to take a 5 minute break every hour and 10 to 20 minute break every three or four hours.  I hit the West boundary of the SIATA land at 10:26 and hadn’t stopped yet.  This was beginning to tell on my legs and back, but I felt pressured to push on. 

      The exertion sneaks up on me when I’m out on the trail.  I get into a mode of watching, listening, and walking and little else intrudes.  I have to make a point of drinking often. 

     After leaving the SIATA land the trail immediately crosses into Chippewa County land.  The terrain becomes rolling hills and the trail shares an ATV/vehicle trail.  In addition to the terrain change most of the trees here have lost their leaves.

      I hit Moonridge Trail/245^th Trail at 11:00.  I had just passed some logging equipment (but no people.)  I was simply exhausted but had only gone 5 miles.  The bike had taken far more out of my legs than I had thought.  I dropped the pack for 12 minutes and took a break.

     The trail crosses the dirt road and takes loop into the woods before coming back out to 245^th (Moonridge Trail) and the end of the Firth Lake segment.  The coloring in the forest was fantastic.  The bright colors were largely gone by now, but the dark crimson, rust, and deep yellows painted the horizon.  The camera simply could not capture the depth of colors.  There were times where the terrain features were hard to distinguish, but there was one spot in that last little loop where everything but the tree trunks were yellow.  The leaves on the ground and the leaves on the trees were yellow.  Yellow everywhere.  I had to stand for a minute or two to try and take it in.  As I moved on I had to chuckle as the yellow metal plate of the Ice Age Trail had a yellow leaf stuck behind it.  Yellow, yellow, yellow.

Positively awesome.

     At 11:47 I dropped the pack at the end of the segment and almost took a nap.  Both legs and my back were in rough shape.  I was also about 30 minutes behind schedule.  It was pretty clear I was not going to pick up much ground.  I could not go any faster and there was no other option but to keep going forward.  The boy would have to wait a half hour.  He’d get over it.  I was disappointed, though, that I’d pushed hard and still only made 2 miles per hour.  Seven minutes later I threw the pack back on and started heading down the gravel road.  At 12:10 the gravel intersects with County E and pavement.  Despite being pavement the walk along County E was very pleasant.  A couple of rolling hills and very scenic foliage made this a quick and easy connecting route.

     The trail picks up again after 1.8 miles and by 12:27 I’d made it to the small parking area.  Two cars were parked there so I expected to see people.  I stopped about 100ft along the trail and took a short break.  The trail overlooks some small lake not named on the map.  I had hoped maybe for some ducks or something, but nothing moved on the surface.  Blackbirds in the trees and a squirrel or two were all the wildlife available there.  There is a geocache hidden just off the trail.  I happened to be looking down at that spot and saw something odd.  Had I been looking at any other minute angle I would have missed it.

     The trail now rolls up and down some short hills and winds between lakes.  Picnic Lake, Paul’s Lake and a few others.  At times the lake is on the other side of a hill, other times the trail makes a crossing over a narrow on the lake.  After crossing a drainage into Picnic Lake the trail climbs up a short steep slope and then heads along a ridge above the lake.  Oh, wait, no it doesn’t.  It takes a left turn and follows the ridge moving away from the lake.  There are several trails up on that ridge and all of them are on private land.  Some of them are on Girl Scout land.  Beware.  If you travel more than 100yds without seeing a yellow blaze, turn around and find the IAT.  You’ve left it. 

     Most of the lakes and streams are shallow and swampy.  At 13:10 the trail leaves private land again and back into the Chippewa County Forest.  The step-over is a 5ft high ladder.  I’ve never seen a step-over like that.

Crossing Picnic Lake

     Twenty minutes later the sun made its first appearance since disappearing around 9:00 in the morning.  That appearance was short lived and within 15 minutes the sky was a gray as it had ever  been the whole day.  The wind picked up considerably.  I was a little worried about rain.  In a very uncharacteristic move I left my rain jacket in the car.  I usually do not even go to work without having my rain jacket handy.  I had reckoned that I still had a good hour and half to go.  Being wet that long wouldn’t be much of a problem, but I’d be very cold that last hour if it were to rain.  The temp was not cold, but neither was it warm.  Maybe around 50F?  During the short breaks I didn’t get chilled but I did not want to sit without moving for too long either.

     Somewhere  past Deer Lake (which is about 100m into the forest beyond the trail) I heard at least three different heron.  A pair of small puddles was coming up on the map so I hoped that I’d see them.  The crossing between these puddles was a boardwalk labeled Kim’s Crossing.  I could still hear the heron.  They were on the larger of the two puddles but they were not visible.  I waited for about two minutes to see if they’d make their way over, but they did not.  No movement and no more calls either.

     The IAT guidebook talks about a glacial erratic in this area of the trail.  Turns out to be a 8ftx8ft rock just off the trail.  The path around the erratic is well worn.  Must be a favorite with kids.

     I hit Deer Fly Trail at 14:00, completely worn out.  Well, at least the legs and lower back were.  I felt like I was walking on two 2x4’s.  I had to stop and rest.  The way things looked I was going to hit the car by 15:15, so I was in pretty good shape time-wise.  About 45 minutes later I passed by Harwood Lakes.  The trail adopter I’d talked with had said that this was a good place to take a long break.  There is a peninsula that runs between the two lakes.  An un-improved camping area sits on that peninsula.  He mentioned he often sits there and almost always catches a beaver or heron in action.  Sadly, today I could not stop.  The Harwood Lakes segment is 5 miles of hiking, but would include a 7 to 8 mile bike shuttle.  Harwood Lakes, though, are only a mile from Plummer Lake.  A family could easily walk in, have a long picnic, do some fishing, and walk back out.

     As predicted I was back at the car by 15:06.  I hurriedly stowed my gear and went for my bike.

     I’d like to come back and do the Harwood Lakes segment again.  The rolling terrain and numerous lakes make an excellent venue for a hike.  I’d also very much like to hang out at the camping area and relax.