Day 76: Highland Lakes Segment (Part 2), Langlade County

Day 76: Wednesday, June 23rd, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 4.7

Location: Middle third of the Highland Lakes Segment in Langlade Country that runs along Kleever Road and Forest Road.  

The Highland Lakes Segment, according to the map, extends 12.8 miles through Langlade County, which includes the 4.7 miles of roadway that passes right next to Bogus Swamp State Natural Area. Technically, that makes this piece of roadway 'trail miles' rather than 'connecting route', so I have it tallied that way in my personal mile tracker. But it's still a road no matter what you call it, and today we planned to call it 'done'.

Today was another after-work dash, going out to take advantage of the long summer days and knock off another tiny piece of trail. Because we were planning to bicycle along this roadway, we decided we would do it in a single vehicle, biking in opposite directions. It was a good plan, but the execution went awry.

Theresa dropped me off at the west end, at the end of Kleever Road where the bus turn-around is, and I started biking immediately down the half-mile gravel road. Earlier this spring the road was hard-packed and looked almost like dirt. Since that time, someone came through with a grater, and it was a much harder crossing than it would have been earlier. 

Anyway, Theresa was supposed to go to the north end on Forest Road where we left off hiking the eastern third of the Highland Lakes Segment back on April 30th and start biking west. Unfortunately there was a glitch with the GPS and she ended up taking a long, winding detour on the south side of Bogus Swamp, and arrived at her starting point mere minutes before I got there. 

So it was that we crossed paths and I was getting off my bike literally as she was getting on hers. This was not the original plan. So my new plan was to drive the car back to the end of Kleever Road, then get on my bike and travel back along the road until I met up with Theresa, whereupon I would turn around and ride back to the car with her. 

This in fact is what we did, although I didn't get anywhere near as far as I thought I would before I saw her trucking up a hill. 

"Holy Cow!" I said. "You got a lot further than I thought you would!"

"Deer flies," she said. "They're a great motivator."

I have no photos from the day, and all I know is that I started my bike ride at about 6:15 pm. I don't even know what time Theresa finished, except that there was plenty of daylight left. What I can do is give an indication of the road conditions. 

Though Kleever Road is flat and gravel, the entire length of Forest Road is paved. It is quite hilly, but if you're biking there is a mechanical advantage to riding east to west, as you will descent about 100 feet in elevation over the 4.7 mile roadway. That's not enough to make or break your day, but it's worth taking advantage of. Originally I thought Theresa made such good time because it was more downhill for her than it was for me. Now I think she just flat-out kicked my butt.

Running Total: 543.8 miles of trail covered; 60.8 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 76.

.

.

Return to Table of Contents

.

. 

Day 75: Hartman Creek Segment (Part 2), Portage County

Day 75: Monday, June 21st, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 2.3

Location: The Hartman Creek Segment in Portage County between Windfeldt Road to the north and Emmons Creek Road to the south. 

Two years ago we hiked the northern half of the Hartman Creek segment, along with the southern bit of the Waupaca River Segment that goes along a trail north of Hwy 54. That hike included our daughter, and we always wanted to come back and finish the segment with her. So today we decided to pack up daughter and dog and take a late afternoon hike after work, taking advantage of the late sunsets. This was the very first full day of summer, and sunset didn't occur until almost 9:00, with daylight extending much longer. 

Parking on Emmons Creek Road was a little spotty, and we ended up pulling mostly off the side of the gravel road and into the weeds. There is a much better and larger parking area a little further east up the road, but we didn't notice it until we were driving away. We picked what we thought was probably the best way to get to Hartman Creek State Park. It was a coin toss, and by the end of the day we had tried both routes and concluded that there is no easy way to get to the Park entrance for Hartman Creek State Park. That's probably why it's not as busy as some of the other parks. 

Once we got there, though, it was no problem driving into the park and parking right next to the trail to start our hike at 5:54 pm, temperature a perfect 64 degrees. You need a State Park Sticker to do this, though, otherwise you can park on Sixth Ave a few tenths of a mile outside the park. 

The trail through Hartman Creek State Park is every bit as wonderful as I remember the northern half of the segment to be. It's a gorgeous single-track trail designed for hiking and well-used by frequent visitors, keeping the trail clear of debris and excess vegetation. 

Also, there are plenty of blazes to get you through the park, with only one notable exception. There is one spot still within the bounds of the State Park where a mountain bike trail crosses the IAT, and there is nothing anywhere to indicate where you should go. The trail goes straight across like you think it should, but we had to go a long, long way before we spotted another yellow mark to reassure us that we had made the right choice.

The canopy is a dense mix of hardwoods, with the majority being an almost perfect blend of white and red oak. Many other species were accounted for, but very few of the fast-growing varieties like poplar or birch were present. This was a very mature forest, and it was being beautifully maintained. 

All of the early spring wildflowers had quit blooming for the year, but now the summer blooms were starting to strut their stuff. 

Young Black-eyed Susan

Virginia Spiderwort

We found a bench to enjoy a little snack for ourselves (and the dog). 

The trail remained idyllic, but did degrade a little bit after crossing into the Emmons Creek State Natural Area. Here, the area had a different 'feel' to it. 

For one thing, the trail visibly shifted from dirt to sand. This happens a lot in the middle of the state, anywhere near the transition into "Sand Country". In the green part of the state below, and a dotted mosaic of locations nearby, sand is the dominant topmost soil layer, and the vegetation that grows there is significantly different than where organic topsoil is dominant. Sometimes that transition occurs literally under your feet as you're walking, and you will see a noticeable change in the tree cover as you move into those areas. This is what we saw here, giving the whole area a far more open feel. 

Emmons Creek Barrens State Natural Area is not stereotypical Sand Country, but it's getting there. There were lots of grasses, and lots of different, often stubby trees. 

As to trail conditions, this area also had a different feel to it, like the difference between two different authors writing parts of the same chapter in a book. There weren't too many hills, but where they existed the trail went needlessly straight up or down, sometimes creating erosion. In fact, one spot had eroded so badly that they had trundled in a whole bunch of round stones and built what was supposed to be stair steps. Sadly, this effort did little to prevent erosion and actually made the descent more treacherous as the small, rounded stones created something that would roll away under your feet when you stepped on them. As evidenced by the new trail that is developing on the side of the stairs, most hikers try to avoid them altogether. 

"A" for effort, but the trail-builders would have been better served just rerouting the trail a little bit and putting in a switchback. Honestly, that probably would have been a lot less work. 

The creek beds were all dry, despite having a lot of rain recently. There was a log walk put in at one point where it must get soupy once in a while, but you can see the trail typically just goes around that, too.

White Wild Indigo/White False Indigo

After we crossed a fairly open area, we came across a kiosk telling a little but about the region we were hiking through, and informing us that state naturalists consider it to be an Oak Savanna, one of a dwindling number in the state, providing harbor and habitat for many species that survive nowhere else, including a number of wildflowers and a rare butterfly.

Even though the sign depicted Lupine, the blue flowers that were blooming close-by were actually Spiderwort.

Virginia Spiderwort

The Oak Savanna

We reached the end of our hike at 7:08 pm, with loads of sunlight left in the day, temperature still 64 degrees. 

We saw very little poison ivy, really only at the parking area in the park, and we didn't pick up any ticks along the open manicured trail, thought the dog found a few off in the weeds. 

We ended our day by driving the other way around to the state park and then down to the picnic area by Allen Lake. This really is a beautiful State Park, and the camping there looks fabulous. We had the picnic area by the lake to ourselves, except for some very lively birds I was never able to identify, and a pair of cedar waxwings that came to visit for a while. 

It was a good day. Compared to the boot-sucking muck we've been walking through all spring west of Taylor County, getting into sand country is heavenly.

Running Total: 539.1 miles of trail covered; 60.8 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 75.

.

.

Return to Table of Contents

.

.

Day 74: Connecting Route, Langlade County

Day 74: Sunday, June 20th, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 6.6

Location: The Connecting Route in Langlade County between State Hwy 45 to the northeast and the Plover River Segment to the southwest.  

Today was Father's Day, and what else would a father want to do with his family but go for a bike ride on one of the connecting routes on the Ice Age Trail? 😀

Actually, we had no plans whatsoever to go hiking or biking today. My schedule at work had me up all night, and I didn't get to bed until after 7:00 am, so when I woke up at 10:00 and told Theresa I wanted to go up and bike the last 6.6 miles of the connecting route we started the day before it came as a bit of a surprise to both of us. 

Of course, seeing as it was Father's Day we also needed to include our daughter Nicole and her wonder dog Joplin, too. They couldn't go biking with us, of course, but they could hang out on the Plover River Segment while Theresa and I biked the 6.6 miles, so we threw together some supplies, made some sandwiches for a picnic and left for the trail. 

At 1:37 pm we were on our way, temperature a steady 71 degrees.

Today I didn't spend much time taking pictures. In fact, I only got two. One of the concerns we had was that there was substantial rain in the forecast and we were pushing our luck just doing the biking. 

But - for your viewing pleasure - here are two pictures I took along the way. 

Roadside Daisies

Northern Maidenhair Ferns

The road was paved the whole distance, not very hilly, and more downhill than uphill as we rode south to north. The biggest hill was probably the first one on County HH, and that was the busiest road on the route, too, except for Hwy 45 which we had to cross later.

Also - Elmhurst isn't a town. It's not even a ghost town. It's a label on the map that gives a place to name when someone asks where Bear Lake is. 'Bear Lake? That's over by Elmhurst.' That's how the conversation would go. Then - 'Elmhurst? Never heard of it..."  And the conversation would devolve from there. Eventually, someone would say it's about 3 or 4 miles south of Antigo on Old 26. You can't miss it," and the cows within earshot would all roll their eyes. 

Just as we were arriving at Hwy 45/47/52 (what happened to 26 anyway?) we were feeling the very first hints of the first few raindrops. Crossing Hwy 45 isn't any picnic, either, since there is a steady stream of traffic on that road in both directions, but we eventually did find a gap and walked across to the car, completing our day. 

It was 2:35 pm, temperature still a very pleasant 70 degrees under cloudy and brooding skies. Between yesterday and today we had crossed off maps 37, 38, and 39, leaving us with 44.7 miles in our 'Langlade Gap'. 

Running Total: 536.8 miles of trail covered; 60.8 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 74.

.

.

Return to Table of Contents

.

.

Day 73: Connecting Route, Langlade County

Day 73: Saturday, June 19th, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 17.5

Location: The Connecting Route in Langlade County between the Kettlebowl Segment to the northeast and State Hwy 45 to the southwest. 

Today dawned bright and sunny in our home in Wausau, and we have gotten in the habit lately of taking every opportunity, reasonable or otherwise, to go do a little bit more of the Ice Age Trail. Over the last eight years we have chipped away at it, sometimes taking breaks of over 500 days between hikes. 

This year we have been on the trail on 29 separate dates, so far, and by doing so have managed to connect the dots from Map 1 all the way through part of map 32. We are now targeting the "Langlade Gap", meaning we want to cover the miles we have not hiked or biked in Langlade County. Doing so would extend our continuous line from Map 1 all the way through Map 44, and even if some people scoff at us using bicycles to cover the connecting routes, that's still a whole lot of hiking. 

Our plan, by the way, is if we ever do manage to hike every inch of the trail that is available only on foot and make our way to the eastern terminus, we will celebrate that accomplishment for what it is, and then reevaluate if we want to give ourselves the additional goal of walking all the connecting routes to become official 'Thousand Milers'. Please remember that this is our adventure, and we decided long ago that for now, we would bike the connecting routes. 

Which was our plan for today.

The Langlade Gap (our term) currently stands as the rest of the Highland Lakes Segment, the Summit Moraine Segment, the Lumbercamp Segment, the Kettlebowl Segment, and 24.1 miles of connecting route, making for a total of 68.8 miles of trail to cover. The more we hike, the more that seems like a reasonable distance. 

So we decided to ditch our plans for today, if we really ever had any, and go trucking up to the southern end of the Kettlebowl Segment where the trail ends near a bend on Sherry Road and drop a vehicle, then take our launch vehicle to the town of Polar and start biking our way north. 

It was 9:52 am, and the temperature was a delightful 64 degrees. The sounds of Wisconsin floated on the air, from the sing-song tweedle-dee, tweedle-dum of the robins to the I-can-do-it high-pitched whine of a chainsaw hard at work. 

I won't bore you with too many details of the conditions of the road. Most of the way it was paved, and there was a little bit of gravel road at the end. We got there at 10:44 am, and it was 69 degrees. The hills weren't too steep, though we had to walk up one or two. 

What I will share is what we encountered on this fabulous last day of spring along the road, which was flowers, flowers, and more flowers. I stopped often to take pictures of the roadside flowers, since that would be the main story of our day. 

Here is some of what we saw:

Marsh Valerian

Red Clover

Hawksbeard var.
Probably Smooth Hawksbeard

Orange Hawkweed

Oxeye Daisy

Bird Vetch

Rose var.
Probably Dog Rose

What you see as you move depends entirely on how fast you're moving. Certainly, when you are walking a connecting route you will see a lot more than if you're driving through in a car, and more that you will if you're passing by on a bicycle. But if you're being observant you can see quite a lot from the seat of a bike, especially if you're willing to stop and take a better look. 

I have found that by photographing and sharing pictures of the many flowers we've encountered, researching the plants as I go, I am learning a lot about the spring flora in Wisconsin. It has been an enjoyable path of discovery for me. 

I also noticed that what you see on the connecting routes is fundamentally different than what you see on the hiking trails through the woods. And for those who think the connecting routes are their least favorite part of the Ice Age Trail let me offer that while there is less 'adventure' to walking along the road, there is a great swath of Wisconsin that they would miss if those road walks were completely eliminated from the IAT. 

On connecting routes you will see different birds, not only because it's easier to see them on wires than in the tree canopies, but because there are different birds there to be seen. You are far more likely to see Kestrels, Merlins and Morning Doves along the edge of a road than you ever would in the forests. 

On connecting routes you will see different flowers, because there are many such roadside wildflowers that cannot survive as part of the forest understory, needing the full unyielding sunshine to thrive. 

There are even different grasshoppers to be found on the roads than in the forests, or even the fields. Life on the road (pun intended) exists in a totally different biome, and it is every bit as beautiful as anything you'll see in the woods. As long as you slow down enough to see it. 

The next thing we did had absolutely nothing to do with our biking for the day, but rather we were exploring if it was possible to use the Primitive Road heading north out of Elton (Smokey Road) to get all the way to the intersection of the IAT at Burma Road. On the satellite view, it looks very passable, and we wanted to know if we could use this to make the very long Kettlebowl Segment a little easier for us. 

Let me cut the conversation short by saying our final conclusion was that No, we weren't going to drive this way again. Could we have done it? Yes, I suppose we could. But realistically we have pressed our luck far too many times by driving on roads that are intended for ATV use using vehicles never intended for such abuse, and we decided we would instead use the access point at Kent-Pond Road, even if we had to hike the extra three-quarters of a mile or so past the gate, twice. 

This side trip took quite a chunk out of the day, but it was worth it for future-planning purposes. 

Our next leg was to go from County Rd S to Polar, a relatively short distance, but we found great parking at the Church on S. We left that spot at 12:24 pm, and it was still a relatively pleasant 70 degrees. 

Yellow Salsify

Common Yarrow

Along the road at one point we saw this critter-hole, probably made by a fox, but it could also have been coyote. I was surprised at the sandy soil, since we aren't really in sand country up here. 

Canadian Anemone

Bigleaf Lupine

We got to Polar fairly quickly, jumped in our van and then drove south for the next leg. 

We intended to find a parking area just west of County AA, so as to finish map 37 entirely, but we weren't able to find anywhere to park our vehicle until we got to the intersection of Parkway and Maple View Road, and even that was a little precarious. 

It was quite sunny, and we continued to enjoy the light breeze and many flowers.

I once read somewhere that the difference between a flower and a weed is that weeds are the flowers that are growing where people don't want them to grow. I think this is clearly true, since many of these 'weed' species have absolutely beautiful flowers. 

Field Clover

Cypress Spurge

More Cypress Spurge

Monarch Caterpillar on Milkweed

Spreading Dogbane

I also think it's unfair that these plants have to suffer the ignominy of horrible names they did nothing to earn. I mean, come on. Cypress Spurge?  Liverwort? Bird Vetch? Spiderwort? Canadian Lousewort?!? Who comes up with these names?

Our last leg (after a brief picnic at the Church) was to drive to Hwy 45/47/52 and park at a surprisingly accessible parking area on Sunnyside Road, just east of the highway. From there we rode to our waiting car on Maple View Road, arriving at 2:18 pm, with the temperature still a very pleasant 71 degrees.

I'm pretty sure I didn't capture all the flowers I rode past. I was sometimes too busy enjoying the sights and sounds and smells of the Wisconsin fields and farmland to take more photos. And had it not been for another pressing planned activity we probably would have just kept right on going and finished the whole connecting route, but it was not to be, and we very much looked forward to the last 6.6 miles. 

Running Total: 530.2 miles of trail covered; 60.8 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 73.

.

.

Return to Table of Contents

.

.

Day 72: Harwood Lakes Segment (Part 2), Chippewa County

Day 72: Saturday, June 12th, 2021

Total Miles covered for the day: 5.9

Location: The Harwood Lakes Segment between the west trailhead on 167th Street to the east trailhead on CTH E. 

5.9 miles of trail covered.

Though I am calling this Part 2 of the Harwood Lakes Segment, I can hardly say we had hiked any of it previously that we were aware of. In fact, we didn't realize we had already hiked 0.2 miles of the segment until we were more than halfway through our hike today. More on that later. 

This morning, we woke up in Cornell in our AirBNB and were not looking forward to the day. The weather was predicted to be another scorching hot day, with high humidity and a heat index near 100 degrees. But we were now just 6.1 miles from closing our western gap (or so we thought). Six miles. One segment. And we would have achieved our goal that we set out this spring, completing all the maps from 1-31 along the northern march. One by one we have been ticking off segments, maps and counties, from McKenzie Creek to Chippewa River, and today we would finally close the gap by hiking the Harwood Lakes segment, if we could. 

Even though it might have worked out better for us to have gotten up at 4 am and gotten on the trail with the first hint of light, we just didn't have the energy after all we had done recently. Instead we had a nice breakfast and got a slightly later start.

We dropped off our target vehicle at the large parking area on CTH E, then drove our launch vehicle down the winding gravel road known as 'Deer Fly Trail'. I can confirm that Deer Fly Trail is indeed very drivable, and when you reach the trail crossing there is plenty of room to park. This is the exact opposite of what you might expect if you have driven down similar 'roads', 'trails' and 'firelanes', that may or may not have the dubious distinction of being labeled 'rustic' or (worse) 'primitive'. This was actually a great way to cut this segment in two, and we weren't the only ones who knew it. 

When we arrived at the parking area, we were met with the same array of vehicles we had seen a few weeks earlier on the Firth Lake Segment. The Chapter Volunteers were here!!

I'll give you a minute to figure out all the jokes packed into the 'Eskergo' plate. 

We weren't sure which way the team went to do whatever trail maintenance they were planning on doing, but we hoped to run into them again and give them a round of applause. 

We started out hiking eastwards at 8:45 am, with the temperature already at 65 degrees and climbing. We touched the sign and off we went. 

The very first part of the trail was a brief downhill, followed by a long uphill climb gaining about 80 feet in elevation over the course of two tenths of a mile, with an almost immediate drop of 50 feet in elevation over the next one tenth of a mile. This pattern would not be broken for the rest of the hike.

The forest here is quite young, with very few of what I would call 'mature' trees. There were lots of ferns and wildflowers in the understory, and the trail was in extremely good condition. I can't think of a single spot along the whole trail that was muddy or unpleasant to hike in any way. There were bridges and boardwalks when you needed them...

Signs when you needed them...

And benches sprinkled along the trail. 

The bench pictured above is at a spot called 'Kim's Crossing'. It wasn't much of a crossing, and it wasn't much of a view, but it was a truly great bench, built with love and hauled out to give us hikers a break if we needed one. 

Thanks, Kim!

Sensitive Fern

So there are a few things I remember about this part of the trail. 

The first is that we encountered what appeared to be a father-son pair making the absolute most out of their hiking day. They were on the kind of hike that achieved 25 or 30 miles in a day, except that they didn't have the right supplies. They had no time to chat, and it seemed like they were working very, very hard at having fun. I wondered if they even noticed all the beautiful ferns around them.

The next thing I recall is that for a brief period of time, the trail was shared with a horse trail. It didn't last long, and the signage was good for both trail hikers and horse riders. 

Which leads me to a random thought. Time and time again on the trail I have seen people walking their dogs, dutifully toting along a little plastic bag of poop to be discarded later on. There are even signs telling pet owners that they must clean up after their pets, using all manner of icons, euphemisms and/or delicate language. But then there are the horses using the exact same trail. Where is their little plastic baggie, huh? 

I remember seeing this little nugget stuffed into the side of a sign. It was a fortune cookie fortune saying, "Your great happiness is based on the warmth of your heart." It still makes me smile.

I remember that there were a lot of trees that had been cut down in recent logging, but the trail very delicately avoids those areas almost completely, skirting just inside the edge or avoiding completely the open areas. 

One of many benches

And then finally it was no longer possible to avoid the logged area, so the trail cuts across a narrow area that is completely open save for the grasses and the thousands of aspen trees sprouting up. The trail is less defined here, and you can barely see Theresa in the shot below making her way up a short hill. 

And then the work of the Mobile Skills Crew comes back into focus, returning us to the gorgeous dirt single-track route that has carried us along. 

I remember passing the camping area on the southwest side of Picnic Lake, and thinking to myself that for the through-hikers, this would be a glorious place to camp for the day. You could invite friends. You could stay for days. 

And the thing I remember best about this section is being followed by a lawn mower.

Now before you go getting all disgruntled about this kind of noise-making on your oh-so-quietude on the trail, consider this: The only reason the trail isn't completely overgrown with grasses, berry bushes, aspens, thorn apples, poison ivy, nettles and any other variety of vegetation is that people like this go out a couple times a year and actually MOW the trails. Yes - those trails. The ones you hike along, over the rocks and boulders, across the creeks, up and down all those hills, happy that you never, ever have to go back and do that again. There are trail volunteers who take these DR Brush Hogs, or whatever that thing is, and mow the edges, in two directions, not walking in the middle where it's easiest, but walking on the edge where it's all lumpy-bumpy and uneven. 

As far as I'm concerned the single most unappreciated element that makes a good trail into a great trail is the work done by the people who mow the edges. These men and women are true and proper trail heroes. More than the ones who put out benches (though they are also among the trail elite in my eyes), more than the ones who go out with chainsaws to clear the downed trees (and could we get by without those heroes?), more than the ones who go out periodically to refresh the paint on the trees, more than all of those the mowers of the trail stand alone in my mind as the ones who make all the miles enjoyable. 

The guy in the video, by the way, is named Dave. Dave is a lanky, strong guy who spends a lot of his time in the summer mowing trails. He and I chatted for a while and I thanked him and his whole crew for the great job they do maintaining the trails in Chippewa County. I contrasted that to the Blue Hills area, which we said we had just finished and found somewhat lacking, and he told me that they don't really have very many volunteers up there, and once a year this crew goes up there to do volunteer work as well. I told him that of all the things we love on the trail, the benches and the trail mowing were the two we appreciated the most. He said that he has made dozens of benches through the years, and he hauls them out and puts them on the trail himself. In the summer he gets help carrying them whole from the road to wherever they sit, and in the winter sometimes he'll haul them out alone, using a sled. 

This day he had only gone as far as the bridge on the south end of Picnic Lake and turned around, so it was on his way back that we chatted, not far from the camping area on Picnic Lake. "I need to go find my wife," I told him. "It's been brutally hot for days. I'm hoping she found a bench somewhere to wait for me to catch up."

"I just put in a new bench on Picnic Lake," he said. "Be sure to stop there!"

About 30 seconds after we parted ways, I heard his motor stop. I didn't think much about it and I kept hiking. When I reached the bridge at Picnic Lake I noticed that the water level had risen significantly and there had been a stop-gap extension put on the bridge on both ends. 

And as I walked around the south end of Picnic Lake I hollered to Theresa, who hollered back from up the trail. She had indeed found the bench that our friend Dave had placed there just last fall, and it was in a place so completely and totally in need of a bench I marveled that one had not been placed there before. 

The two of us were there for quite a while enjoying the view, when here comes Dave, trailing along behind us. 

"I didn't think I'd be seeing the two of you again", he said. "But then I ran out of gas up there on the trail."

I told him I was wondering how that worked, because I hadn't seen him toting any extra gasoline. He said that usually doesn't happen, because he fills up the tank before he goes out and it usually lasts both ways. He told us he was walking to the same end of the trail we were to meet someone who was bringing him some gasoline, which was a heckuvalot closer than walking nearly three miles in the other direction and back again. 

We chatted for a bit longer, and then he told us that the trail we were walking on around Picnic Lake was basically all new because for several years the water level around the lake had been rising. 

"Beavers?" I asked. 

He said that no, it was because of snowfall and extra rain. The lake level had come up quite a bit on its own. He said that's why they had to extend the bridge. It's also why they had to come through and cut a new trail, because the old one was under water. If you go up to the lake picture above and look closer, you'll see that one of the close trees is in fact submerged at the trunk, and across the lake you can see a ring of dead trees right at the water line whose roots had been drowned. 

I told him that he and his crew do an amazing job of maintaining the trails - better than any other chapter as far as we knew, though in all fairness we can only speak to the chapters where we have been hiking to date. We told him that this new trail was amazing, and looked like it had been there for years. Later on we saw where the trail was not only cut fresh, but had been reinforced by boulders through a small switchback. These people really do work hard. 

We sat a while longer on Dave's Golden Bench and bid Dave farewell. Once we finally got up and rolling again, it wasn't long before we found ourselves at this sign, and shortly thereafter came out on CTH E, at precisely 12:04 pm. It was only 75 degrees so far, so the weather was cooperating. 

And, lo and behold, there was Dave, still waiting for his gasoline. 

Long story short, we were there while the owner of the Eskergo car and another very active chapter leader showed up to bring Dave his gas. We offered them all a round of applause and expressed again how pleasant it was hiking their trails and how much we appreciate their hard work. 

"Where are you from?" was the first question. 

"Wausau," I replied.

"Are you a part of the Marathon Chapter?"

"Nope. We're focusing on hiking the trail right now."

"You can do both," was the quick answer, and inside I bristled a bit but remained cordial. 

"I'm volunteering for the Mobile Skills project on the Ringle Segment this August," I said. 

"Well, then, I'll see you out there!" was the reply. "I'm the volunteer coordinator for that project!" (Team Leader? Crew Chief? I don't remember exactly what title he used.)

They proceeded to then take down my name and contact information to be forwarded to the Central Moraines Chapter leadership. 

I didn't mind. Much. I know that the trail needs volunteers. People who are dedicated, hard-working, and care about the quality of the trail. What they didn't know, and I didn't bother to express, is that I 'volunteer' continuously as I hike. One of the items I carry with me as I hike is a small saw, and I use it frequently to clear surprising large obstructions from the trail as we go. I'm sure I have cleared no less than 100 small to medium-sized trees from the trail, including those that have been laying there for years, and tossed uncountable thousands of branches and loose round stones off of the trail. Sometimes I rip encroaching trees out of the ground, the small ones that would eventually need to be cut down. Sometimes I take a branch and lever large trees out of the way, if I can take advantage of a little gravity to remove something that has to be climbed over or around. 

And I know that if people like the ones I was talking to didn't recruit volunteers, then Chapters like theirs couldn't exist. So I didn't mind being recruited. But it is unlikely that I will join the local chapter, at least not now. Instead I will go on contributing in my own way, and being grateful of those who in their way contribute to the overall beauty and wonder that is the Ice Age Trail. 

And I learned that the trail crew were all meeting at one of the Ice Cream Stores in Cornell for lunch, and that they were done for the day, so we wouldn't have the opportunity to thank them all in person. It's too bad. We were invited to come into town and see them in person, but if we were going to finish this trail today, going back to Cornell wasn't in the cards, so we parted ways. The two cars drove east, we drove west, and Dave headed back down the trail with his can of gas to finish mowing the forest. 

Thanks, Dave!

So for the second half of our hike we drove to the western trailhead sign and parked along the road where we had parked in the past. It was at this moment, as we consulted our maps and figured out just exactly how much hiking we had left for the day, what time we might finish, and how hot it would be by the time we were done, that we discovered we didn't have 3 miles left to go (half of the total distance), we didn't have 2.8 miles left to go (the exact distance noted on the map for this half of the segment), we had only 2.6 miles left to go because we had already hiked the 0.2 miles along the road that go north of the trailhead sign, that are included in the total distance for the Harwood Lakes Segment. 

This was good news indeed, because it was already 1:10 pm, and the temperature had climbed all the way to 78 degrees on the way to 90. Our break for lunch put us into the hot, miserable part of the day, and the last little push to finally, after weeks of hiking, close the western gap, was going to be an anticlimactic endurance hike through dangerous heat conditions. Any two tenths of a mile we didn't have to hike were cause for celebration.

Once more we touched the sign at the western trailhead and this time rather than hiking north along the road, we went east into the woods for our very last look at Chippewa County. 

I'll be brief in my description of the trail because this is already a very long post, and I have a lot of pictures to share. The trail was fabulous. There were a few hills, but overall they did a very nice job taking the trail among the hills, rather than up and over them. We got a decent view of the Harwood Lakes that gave the segment its name, but there are nowhere near as many lakes and ponds as are hosted by the nearby Chippewa Moraine Segment. When you need bridges, they are there, including the well-renowned curving, one-railed bridge over a peat bog that is dedicated to Cal Kraemer.

Another boardwalk in particular sticks out in my mind that is a long, winding construction that enables hikers to avoid what would otherwise be a long tract of mud. Also, the trail was clear, free of most rocks and debris, and there is at least two benches that I recall. Very, very nice trail. 

And of course we picked up some wood ticks along the way, and one or two deer ticks as well. But we have definitely seen worse. And now I'll just share some of the photos that tell the tale of what we encountered as we hiked through the heat.

Tracks from a very large deer - note that the toes point out, not in. 

Hello, froggie! I see you hiding in there!

Sharp-lobed Hepatica, post blooming stage

I want to take just a moment and elaborate on these next three photos. Theresa was walking ahead of me and she suddenly startled, similar to how she react when she sees a snake, but not quite as severe. She told me she was looking at a rock on the trail ahead of her when all of the sudden it moved. 

A rock in the trail that moved

A closer look told her right away that it was a turtle, of course, but not one we recognized.

Not being at all familiar with most turtles (I now a few on sight) I at first thought this might have been a Wood Turtle, but further research led me to conclude (based on the bright yellow chin on this fellow) that it was a very old and very large Blandings Turtle (Emydoidea blandingii). These are supposed to grow to a carapace size of up to 10 inches, and this old fellow was definitely reaching the upper end of that range. 

Besides taking the photos, we disturbed him (was it a him?) as little as possible and kept moving.

Bench overlooking Harwood Lakes

Cal Kraemer's Bridge

There is a bench build right in the middle of this gorgeous bridge construction that is dedicated to a deceased dedicated trail volunteer by the name of Cal Kraemer. We never knew him, but it sounds like he was a great guy.

Another view of Cal's Bridge. The bench is built into the middle on the left side.

Wild Strawberries!! Yum!

What is pictured above is the very long and very appreciated boardwalk that allowed us to just stroll casually across the top of what is obviously a very wet part of the segment in some seasons. There is a bench on the east end of this boardwalk.

And this is the very last photo we took in Chippewa County. 

After nine weeks of hiking through freezing rain, snow, hail, burning heat, and all manner of trail conditions from terrible to terrific, when we reached the end and closed the 140-mile gap, making for a continuous line from map 1 through map 31, we were too hot, too tired, and two absent-minded to even snap a photo. 

We did, I know, actually set down our hiking sticks and perform a formal 'happy dance', more out of a sense of ritual than elation, and then trudged to the waiting van. All the trail volunteer cars were gone, and we had missed them. We did see the part of the trail they were improving, though, a series of stone steps that were installed to prevent erosion. 

It was 89 degrees, and we were dripping with sweat. Deer Fly Trail lived up to its name as we were surrounded by clouds of them. Our western adventure ended at 3:10 pm on Saturday, the 12th of June. Yet we couldn't stop ourselves from pulling out the trail book while we sat in Cornell, eating our double-scoop ice cream waffle cones, and looking east to maps 32 through 39 to evaluate the 'Northern Gap'. 

We're coming for you next, Langlade County. 

Running Total: 512.7 miles of trail covered; 60.8 miles 'extra' hiking/biking. End of Day 72

.

.

Return to Table of Contents

.

.