Day 59: Parrish Hills Segment (Part 3), Langlade County
Day 59: Sunday May 2nd, 2021
Total Miles covered for the day: 4.5
Location: The easternmost 4.5 miles of the Parrish Hills Segment, between Nelson Firelane to the west and County Road T to the east.
4.5 miles of trail covered
One year ago we were walking on the Ringle segment in Marathon County on what turned out to be one of only two days' hiking in all of 2020, the year of the virus. Uncertainty, prudence, precaution, and a shortage of toilet paper made us put a pause on our Ice Age adventures, and we hunkered down with the rest of the world until we figured out what was what.
This year, with renewed information, increased stability, and most importantly a vaccine, we have refocused our efforts on the trail. Today we decided to go back up to Langlade County and finish up the last 4.5 miles of the Parrish Hills segment.
We had already hiked the western 7.5 miles of Parrish Hills, from the Nelson Firelane to the western trailhead, with a lot of relatively easy hiking on logging roads, snowmobile trails and gravel roads, along with quite a lot of 'normal' hiking trail. Easy except for the 'hills' part. There were a lot of those. And the driving. There was a lot of that, too, and it was memorable.
Today's target was the last 4.5 miles east of Nelson Firelane. Which meant we needed to get a vehicle down that forsaken piece of gravel back to the trail crossing where we started the last time. Having already gotten to that crossing once, we knew it was no easy feat. The last time we drove in on Five Cent Road from the west end, then driving down Nelson Firelane to the trail intersection. Simple. However, I can say with confidence that neither one of those roads was built with the likes of a Chrysler Town and Country in mind, let alone the low-slung fuel-conscious Toyota Prius, better known for traversing parkways and parking lots in Eco-Mode. And if you read our previous blog on Parrish Hills, you'll know that we decided to drive OUT of that spot by heading due south, which we swore we would never do again. The last time we drove down that road I had to get out twice to saw through trees that had fallen across the road and hadn't been cleared yet. If we had broken down, there would be no thumbing a ride any time soon.
Today the plan was to repeat our previous journey, going 3.5 miles along Five Cent Road, heading South on the Firelane, going down and back up that one rather alarming hill in the road, parking our car, and reversing our way back out of there, all the while dodging the ATVs who used the road a lot more than anything without four-wheel drive. And it almost worked. We made it down 3.1 miles, only dodging about 6 ATVs, when we reached blue tape strung across the road with a sign that said 'Trail Closed'.
It says something, I suppose, that the sign didn't say 'Road Closed'. Still, it was technically a 'Road'. It said so on the signs. I decided to walk down and see why they would close a road to ATV use. Certainly we could just slip in, drop a car, then slip out again and no one would notice, right? Unfortunately, anything that would close a road to an ATV proved more than enough obstacle for my humble mom-car. A washout just down the road made the whole thing impossible. But - rather than dropping the car where we were and adding 1.5 miles to the hike, which was already going to be touch-an-go to avoid the rain, we decided to go back and drive back up Nelson Firelane from the south.
Which we did. And it was just as awful as we remembered, only this time we were driving the worst of it going uphill, and not down. We were passed by numerous ATVs, heads turning and wondering what we were doing there as we scrambled along. We wondered the same thing.
My minivan has reasonably good clearance to go over the ruts and boulders sticking up out of the road. The Prius does not. Theresa made it through, though I don't know how she did it without tearing off the heat shields and the muffler. We finally were able to drop the van off at the trail intersection, wanting to get the Prius out of there before the rain hit. That could spell disaster.
So we had a decision. The devil we knew, or the devil we didn't know. We knew already how horrible it would be driving back out to the south. We knew we couldn't go back out the way we intended originally due to the washout, but that left the third option, going back up to Five Cent Road and turning east, driving the 3.5 miles in the other direction, then headed south on West Elcho Road until we hit Line Road and finally County Rd T. We reasoned that if we went out to the north and east, at least we would be driving on 'Roads', and not on the Firelane, so we went north and east.
We have driven a lot of bad roads. The Ice Age Trail helped us find many very bad roads in our quest to cut long segments into shorter hikes. We have never, and I mean NEVER, driven a worse road than this one. The first mile or so wasn't too bad. Then there were bad spots. Then there were worse spots. Finally, there were places where we had to decide how hard to bottom out the vehicle while we fought our way up loose gravel, stones and rocks that littered the ruts and washouts in order to prevent not making it to the top of the hill and having to back down and try again.
"How much farther?" Theresa asked. I shuddered to answer. "1.2 miles, then we hit West Elcho Road. It should be better from there."
Except that it wasn't.
When we finally reached West Elcho Road, our imaginary byway of civilization and salvation, we found ourselves on yet another unloved and neglected gravel backroad, too beat up and unworthy to even qualify for the state's 'Rustic Road' designation. We soon found ourselves crossing a swamp with logs - literally LOGS - laid down perpendicular to the direction of travel, upon which gravel had been tossed during a presidential term that preceded the birth of BOTH of my last two minivans. The logs were laid as foundation to the road to prevent it from sinking into the swamp, and I guess I can be thankful that they had survived long enough to save our Prius from a similar fate. By the time we reached County Road T, and the eastern trailhead for Parrish Hills, we were literally two full hours past when we thought we would be starting our hike.
So let me start by saying, if your thought is that you want to use Five Cent Road to cut your hike in pieces, you have many choices. But unless you drive a truck with some attitude - don't. Just - don't. It's not worth it. You can get there faster by just walking. There is no 'good way' to get to the Nelson Firelane, and Five Cent Road is nothing more than a one-lane playground for ATVs.
OK - time for a deep breath - the Parking area at the Eastern Trailhead, which is located at the Townline Lake wayside on Cty Rd. T, is glorious. There are picnic tables. There's a pit toilet if you look for it. Lots of parking. Families with children. Fish jumping out of the crystal clear lake. It doesn't get any better than this.
After taking a moment for a mental adjustment, we geared up and started our hike at 11:45 am, the temperature a warm and friendly 68 degrees. Any hope we had of beating the rain that was forecast to start by 1:00 was completely out the window, but we had raingear, and we were off.
The first thing the trail does is head north along Townline Lake. I have to say this was a missed opportunity by the IAT trail-makers. Here was this beautiful lake, with a nice hill that traveled along the eastern shore, and rather than work the trail to the top of the hill, they chose cut the trail into the edge of the hillside, 30 feet from the top of the hill that was only about 15 feet higher in elevation. The trail slanted mercilessly, except where the erosion had exposed tree roots and other problems, and the entire walk along the lake was spent taking care not to lose your footing or twist an ankle, rather than enjoying the view from the hilltop only a few tantalizing feet away.
I'm not going to say it was all bad. In fact, the hiking along this section was mostly on very good trail, or on logging roads or the like, with great blazes and all the trees and debris cleared away.
After a mile or so, we encountered Thank God Bridge, which you will recognize and appreciate when you get there. At some point in the past, trail angels toted in the lumber and hardware necessary to build it, and I shudder to think what it would have been like if no such bridge existed. Truth be told there are many such bridges scattered across the IAT, hundreds of them, and if not for the work put in by those work crews we would not be able to enjoy the trail like we do, and we probably would have given up long ago.
A couple of times the trail went straight across a mucky area while the main road went around. We went around. We're literally talking 150 feet. Unfortunately, the mud was not always avoidable.
We had reached the center 'Troad' portion of the hike, comprised mostly of two-track trail/roads. The blackflies were out, and first of the deer flies. Deet kept them at bay.
The trek to the west took us across several miles of stony logging/atv roads. We found little in the way of trash, unless you count all the 20-guage shells left behind by the grouse hunters. It wasn't particularly hilly, but then walking on roads can tend to hide the hills a bit. There was another problem - gravel roads can sometimes be difficult to walk on, and are harder on the feet than trails. I prefer a dirt trail to a loose gravel road.
Of course, hiking roads that are sometimes muddy has other benefits. You get to see tracks from the critters that go through. We saw turkey tracks, deer tracks, and one particularly large dog track. I'm saying dog. A big dog. A dog that leaves tracks the size of the small plates in the cabinet. OK, it was a wolf.
Cool.
When we walked past an enormous clearcut from about 5 years ago, now filled with a hundred thousand aspen trees, we heard off in the distance a woodpecker drilling test-holes. The loud, resonant thud-thud-thud was not the normal, frenetic steady hammering, but more of a tentative tapping, as though the motor wasn't quite catching and it sputtered to a stop.
Finally, after what felt like miles of gravel road (because it was miles of gravel road) we spotted the place where trail left the troads for good and bounded off north through the woods. The turn was easy to identify, because the blazes were excellent, and I'll give one more set of kudos to whoever went through here with yellow paint. Whether it was signposts, tree paint, or even paint on rocks on the ground, they made sure there were enough blazes to keep you going the right way. Well-done.
What remained was not a bad hike. I remember seeing all the typical flowers, and took one nice photo of a blood root plant in full bloom.
A lot of the time was spent hiking the top of a very narrow ridge. At times the ridge was so narrow you could stand in one place and see all the way to the bottom of the valley on both sides. If not for the trees, you would call it an arete. It was that severe.
Then, on the final westward march, we passed through a stand of young trees that were parted like the Red Sea, forming a wall the left and to the right,
IAT Highland Lakes Western
Of all the paths you take in life, make a few of them dirt.
Running Total: 410.8 miles of trail covered; 37.5 miles ‘extra’ hiking/biking. End of Day 59.
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